I’m supposed to be with Annalise. I don’t understand any of what’s happening to me.
The Locked Drawer
It seems like a lifetime since Mercury kissed Annalise to wake her. I’ve been sitting here with Annalise for three or four hours and I’m glad she’s still asleep. I can sit on the chair by her bed, my head rested back and my eyes half open, and look at her, at her pure beauty, and if I think about that I don’t have to think about other stuff.
There’s a knock on the door and before I say anything Van walks in. I can see that she’s healed well and fast but one side of her face is scarred.
“Nesbitt said you were here. Any change?” she asks.
“Nothing. Mercury said she’d done the first stage of the process; she said it’d be hours before the next. But I’ve no idea what that is. I don’t know if I have to do something or what.”
Van sits on a chair on the other side of the bed. She’s wearing a new clean suit and looks as perfect as ever. Even her hair isn’t looking too bad, though I can see some of it has been burned off around her right ear.
She lights a cigarette and says, “Let’s wait and see. I would assume the next stage is when Annalise starts to wake.”
I close my eyes and doze. I think of Gabriel. I wanted to kiss him, wanted to know what it was like, and it was nice, good. I liked it. But I’d rather kiss Annalise. And Gabriel is my friend, though I’ve probably messed that up, but I hope not because Gabriel of all people should understand. Though I’m not sure what there is to understand.
I open my eyes and sit up. Without really thinking about it, I say to Van, “Do you think I have to do something?”
“To wake Annalise?”
“Yes.”
Van tilts her head to the left and she sits up a little. “Do something like . . . ?”
“I don’t know. The old stories say the prince wakes the sleeping princess with a kiss. Mercury kissed her but maybe I need to as well.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t tried it,” Van says. “Though two kisses doesn’t feel much like Mercury’s sort of thing.” She looks at Annalise. “But it has to be said that nothing much is happening now.”
I get up and go to Annalise and gently lower myself down and kiss her lips. They’re cold. I try again, harder. I feel her cheek: it’s cold. I feel for a pulse in her neck: nothing.
I sit back down and stare at Annalise. “I’m sure this isn’t right.”
Van drags on her cigarette and says, “Do you notice anything about that chest of drawers beside you?”
I turn and look. It’s a tall oak chest of eight drawers. The furniture in the room—the wardrobe, bed, chest, and chairs—is all the same wood.
“I’ve been looking at it for the last hour and now it’s beginning to annoy me. Why does every keyhole in the chest of drawers, indeed in this entire room, have a key in it, except that top drawer?”
I look round. She’s right: all the drawers have locks but each one has a tiny key in it. The door to the room also has a lock and key, as does the wardrobe. I try the top drawer but it won’t budge. All the other drawers open and each one is empty.
Van stubs her cigarette out on the arm of the chair and gets up, saying, “I think you’re right: you do have to do something to wake Annalise but it’s not a kiss that she needs; it’s something else. And that drawer is where I’d put the something else.” Van tries to open the lock with the key from the drawer below. It doesn’t work. “We need the right key.”
“Mercury didn’t use keys,” I say, and I walk quickly out of the room. I know Gabriel has one of Mercury’s hairpins but I’m not sure I can face him at the moment. I’d rather face a corpse.
It’s still smoky in the great hall. I look to where I dropped Mercury’s body. It’s not there but there are two tapestries rolled up, lying next to each other at the side of the room. The bigger one must contain Mercury’s body, the smaller one, Pers.
I drag the longer bundle to a space in the middle of the room and unravel it. Even this is unpleasant. She’s stiff and unrolls with a jerk onto her front and then onto her back, until Mercury is lying there, eyes open, staring at me. Her eyes are still black but with no stars shining or lightning flashing in them. I carefully feel through her hair and pull out all the pins. Seventeen of them! Some with red skull ends, some black, white, green, and some made of glass. I can’t remember which ones are for which tasks, though Rose did tell me that some open doors, some open locks, and some kill.
I put the pins carefully into my pocket. All I have to do now is roll Mercury back up. I flop the end of the tapestry over her and move round to slide my hands underneath her, and, as I do so, I see something slip from Mercury’s bloodstained dress. It’s a silver chain and locket with a complex clasp that slots inside itself. The locket is held within an intricately designed nest of woven silver and gold. It won’t open. I pick one of the hairpins with a red end and push it against the locket.
I’m not sure what to expect—some special potion or valuable jewel—but inside the locket is a tiny painted portrait of a young girl who looks like Mercury. But it isn’t her. Mercury isn’t vain enough to wear her own picture. It must be her twin sister, Mercy, my great-grandmother. Marcus killed her and now I’ve killed the other sister. Black Witches are renowned for killing members of their own family and it seems in that respect I’m turning out Black.
I close the locket and replace it in the folds of Mercury’s dress.
I roll her body back up and drag her to the side of the room.
In the bedroom with Van I show her the hairpins. “The red skull ones open locks.” I put the point of one into the keyhole and there’s a satisfying, quiet click. The drawer slides smoothly open and inside is a tiny purple bottle.
Van takes it and pulls out the worn cork. She sniffs at the bottle and jerks her head back, eyes watering. She says, “This is the potion to wake Annalise. I’d suggest just one drop.”
“On her lips?”
“That’s romantic but not very effective. In her mouth, I’d say.”
I take the bottle and, while Van holds Annalise’s mouth open, I tip the bottle up. A glutinous blue blob of liquid grows at the bottle’s lip and I’m just beginning to think that it’s too much and not right as the drop falls into Annalise’s mouth.
I keep my hand on her neck, feeling for a pulse. A minute passes and there’s nothing. I still keep hold of her and another minute passes, and then I think I feel something—the faintest of pulses.
“She’s waking,” I say.
Van checks Annalise’s neck. “Yes, but her heart’s weak. I’ll see what I can come up with for that.” And she leaves the room.
Annalise Not Breathing
This isn’t good. This isn’t good. Annalise’s heartbeat is far too fast. It’s getting stronger all the time but it’s not normal, not regular. My hand is on her neck, feeling her pulse, which is racing faster and faster—and then I feel no pulse, nothing. It’s stopped. This is the second time it has stopped. Last time it started again on its own after ten seconds. I count the seconds:
Five
And six
And seven
And eight
Come on come on
And ten
And eleven
Oh shit oh shit
And a beat, faint, faint like before, and another, and another, each a little stronger. This is the pattern. Oh shit! If it’s a pattern it’s going to happen again and again.
I still have my hand on her neck. Van hasn’t come back and I’m not sure—
Her eyes flutter open.
“Annalise? Can you hear me?”
She’s looking at me but not seeing me.
And her heart’s going faster and faster again, and harder and stronger, but far too fast now.
And it stops, again.
“Annalis
e. Annalise.”
And four
And five
And six
And seven
And eight
And nine
Please, please breathe
Please
Please . . .
Her eyes close.
Oh no, oh no.
But then I feel it again, faint but there, her pulse.
It’s building again but not so fast. Am I just trying to convince myself? Annalise doesn’t open her eyes.
“Annalise. It’s Nathan. I’m here. You’re waking up. I’m here. Take your time. Breathe slow. Slow.”
Her pulse seems to be steadying, fast but not racing as frighteningly as before, and she feels warmer too. I hold her hand and it’s so thin, so bony, it scares me.
“Annalise. I’m here. You’re waking. I’m with you.”
Her eyelids flutter again and they open. She looks ahead but still isn’t focusing on me. Her eyes look wrong; they look dead. There are no silver glints in them. And now I feel her heart begin to accelerate again, going faster and faster. Oh no. Her eyes are still open and her heart is racing so fast and so hard I think it’s going to burst out of her chest and then—
“No. No. Annalise. No.”
I check but I know her heart has stopped again.
I can’t count anymore. Can’t face it. Oh shit. Oh shit. Do I do heart massage or something? I need her on a hard surface for that. I slide my arms under her, lift her, and she’s so light, far too light. I lay her down on the floor gently and I’m not sure what to do.
I put my hands on her chest and push and push. There’s a song I think you’re supposed to do this to; I vaguely remember Arran telling me. It’s fast. That’s all I remember. I push on her chest, massage her heart, get it beating again. But really I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I’m doing it right but all I can do now is keep going. I have to keep going.
“Nathan. What’s happening?”
It’s Van. She’s kneeling beside me.
“Her heart keeps stopping. Her eyes opened but they looked dead and her heart’s stopped again.”
“You’re doing the right thing.”
“I think I’ve broken her ribs. I don’t know how hard to do this.”
“You’re doing fine. Ribs can heal.”
Van feels Annalise’s neck, her forehead, her cheek.
She passes me a cigarette. “One breath every minute into her mouth until the cigarette’s gone. It’ll strengthen her heart, though it might weaken yours.”
I inhale on the cigarette and as I breathe the smoke into Annalise’s mouth I feel myself go light-headed. I inhale again and feel OK but as I breathe out my head swims as if I’m giving Annalise all my strength. My lips are close to hers. I look into her eyes but nothing has changed. I take another puff of the cigarette and as I breathe out into Annalise’s mouth my lips brush hers. Her eyes don’t change. I do it again, another breath out, and my lips are clumsy on hers and I look at her eyes and they’re glinting.
“Nathan?”
“Yes, I’m here.” I feel Van touch my shoulder and murmur, “I’ll leave you now.”
Annalise says, “Is this real?”
“Yes. We’re both real.”
“Good.” It’s a breath as much as a word.
“Yes, very good. You’ve been asleep, under a spell.”
“I’m cold.”
“I’ll try to warm you. You’ve been asleep for a long time.”
Her eyes are focused on me; the blue is intense and the silver glints move slowly, and she says, “I’m so cold.” But her hand moves, searching for mine, and I hold it. I pull a blanket down to cover her and lie close to keep her warm and I talk to her. Just repeating the same things: I’m here, she’s going to be OK, she’s been asleep, take it slow.
She’s slept for months but seems exhausted by it. Her body is too thin; her bones are sticking out and her face is drawn now that she’s woken. She looks more frail and ill than when she was asleep.
We lie together and I hold her close to keep her warm.
She asks, “Were you smoking?”
“Yes. We shared a cigarette. Not tobacco, something else.”
She doesn’t reply. I think she’s gone to sleep again but then she says, “Nathan?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
And she sleeps.
Getting Stronger
Annalise is asleep in my arms. We’ve been together like this for hours and it’s good. It’s what I’ve battled for and waited for. It’s not perfect, though. Annalise is frighteningly thin and weak.
There’s a knock on the door. I don’t want to move as I don’t want to wake Annalise. Her face is snuggled against my chest, her forehead warm now. I’m hot. Sweaty.
The door opens and an icy wind comes toward me. It’s not Mercury.
“How is she?” Gabriel’s voice is almost civil. He’s standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He looks pissed off.
“Sleeping. She’s weak. Really weak. I think she needs food. And liquids, I suppose.” I try to sound matter-of-fact, like I’m discussing a medical problem, not the girl in my arms.
Silence. A long silence.
Then he leaves, saying, “I’ll get Nesbitt on to it.”
I want to say thanks but he’d hate that and anyway he’s gone.
Annalise sleeps on.
A short while later Nesbitt appears with a bowl of something. “Soup. With a little pick-me-up of Van’s in it.” He puts it down. “Gabriel’s in a foul mood for some reason. Can’t understand him myself; after all, we’ve rescued the girl.”
I ask, “What time is it?”
“No idea. Why?”
“I’m sure it must be after dark but I don’t feel bad.”
“Oh that. Yes, it’s night. Van says Mercury must have had a spell for the bunker. To make it habitable. Very impressive apparently. Van doesn’t know how to do it.”
I remember now. Mercury had a similar spell for the cottage in Switzerland.
After Nesbitt has gone I wake Annalise as gently as I can. She opens her eyes and says, “I feel dizzy. And a bit strange.”
“You’ve been under the spell for months.” I don’t say wasting away but that’s what appears to have been happening.
“Months?”
“Two months.”
“Wow, that’s a long sleep.” She sits up a little and looks around. “Where are we?”
“Mercury’s home in Norway.”
“And where’s Mercury?”
“She’s dead.”
Annalise thinks about this for a few seconds and then says, “So we’re safe?”
“As safe here as anywhere, I think.” I lift the soup bowl up. “You need to eat this.”
“How did you find me? What happened to Mercury? Tell me everything that’s happened while I’ve been asleep.”
“I will if you eat.”
“Deal. I’m hungry.”
I feed her soup. I talk while she takes tiny sips, and eventually the bowl is empty and I’ve told her everything, even about my Gift, even about killing Hunters, and even about killing Pilot. She asks a few questions, not many. Mainly she’s quiet, taking it all in. She asks about the Alliance and says it sounds a good thing. And she asks about my Gift and I try to explain but it’s hard and I end up just saying that I transform. She insists that killing Hunters to protect myself is understandable but she doesn’t comment on Pilot except to say, “I would have died if it wasn’t for you.”
So I’ve told her everything. Only of course I haven’t.
I haven’t told her that one of the Hunters I killed was her brother and that I killed him by ripping his throat out. I haven’t mentioned that I tasted his blood. I haven’t mentioned anything about the bloo
d, in fact. I haven’t told her that when I’m an animal I have a tendency to eat things, like deer and foxes and rats.
And I haven’t told her that I like being an animal.
And I definitely haven’t told her that a few hours ago I was kissing Gabriel.
But I know this is not the time for that. Annalise nearly died. She’s still not well and I just want to savor the good things about us being together.
Annalise looks at me and asks, “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. I’m just worried about you. Your heart kept stopping.”
“Well, I’m feeling a bit stronger. I want to see if I can walk around.”
I get up first and Annalise swings her legs out of bed and stands and wobbles. “Whoa! Dizzy again.” I grab her and she clings to me. “But OK with you here.”
She leans on me and I hold her. She’s as fragile as glass. I’m careful not to squeeze too hard as I remember her ribs. “Do they hurt?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “A little sore.” But she winces when I touch her ribcage. “But I’m alive. I’m awake.” She smiles at me. “And my healing is working. I can feel it.”
She puts her hand up to my cheek. “You saved me, Nathan. You searched for me and risked everything for me. You’re my prince. Coming to my rescue.”
“I’m no prince.”
She leans her face up to me and kisses me on the lips. “Whatever you are, thank you.” Then she stands back and stares at me. “You look tired.”
“Rescuing people from evil witches is exhausting, I’ve discovered.”
“You need to rest now.” She turns. “Oh, look. A bed! That’s handy.” And she pulls me to it, saying, “Come back here with me.”
And I let her guide me to the bed and she lies down and I crawl onto it and I lie next to her. She smells so good. Even after all this time asleep, she smells clean and of her.
She says, “You are my prince, my hero. No one else in the world would have done what you’ve done. Not even my family. In fact especially not my family. But you, the one person everyone told me was evil . . . you risked your life to help me.”