Isabelle

We work as if time has already run out. There’s something horrible about the uncertainty of all this interwoven with the intangible cloud that hangs over our heads. When we go outside to set up the only trap we can set, the spring breeze sends a chill up my spine. We do what we can and retreat into the castle as quickly as possible.

When all is done – we barely have time to go over our plan a second time – I don the T-shirt I wore the first time I met Astrid and stare at myself in the mirror, hoping to invoke some form of familiarity, comfort – something. Anything to quell the unsettled stampede in my stomach.

Imogen is already wearing light armor and riding boots, her hair tied up in a ponytail. She looks a lot younger dressed like this, wide-eyed and acutely aware of every shift in our surroundings. But when she directs me to hurry to the armory in her stern tone, I am reminded of the age in the crease between her brows.

Bayorn stands frozen like a statue in front of the rack holding all sorts of weapons. He doesn’t even acknowledge me; he simply fixes his gaze on the stone wall.

I approach the rack and watch his stony expression. Only when I clear my throat softly does he snap out of his reverie.

He moves to find a set of armor as if nothing had happened. His eyes don’t meet mine when he helps me tighten the straps across my shoulder blades and arms.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I try to break the silence before it unnerves me.

He doesn’t reply at first. I have to cock my head to one side to prompt at least a one-worded answer from him. He notices.

“I am wondering how willing I will be when it is my time to pay my price.”

I blink, startled. “You mean...to break the curse?”

“No,” he says. “Kieran...Kieran has brokered a deal with Lady Selaena to ensure our freedom.”

“Immortality for immortality,” I say. Surprise flickers briefly across his expression before it settles. He nods in acknowledgement: an acceptance of the secret we now share.

“Is he really going to die?”

He instructs me to stretch my arms out to test my own mobility. The chainmail is both lighter and heavier than I’d imagined. If I ever imagined wearing chainmail at any point in my life, that is.

“The enchantress is...cryptic,” he says with a sigh. “She guaranteed his mortality. When and how, we do not know. All we know is that the worst is yet to come. And after…” he shrugs. “Whether or not it occurs naturally, he wishes to put an end to his eternity.”

I swallow.

“How can you allow that?” my voice drops to a low whisper, as if someone else might hear.

“I cannot allow anything. Control is not a luxury I have possessed for many years.” He fixes me with a square look. “All I can do is to fight until my very last breath, my lady. For him and for your safety. Whatever else happens to me – perhaps it may be my time as well.”

“No,” I shake my head, stepping away. “Don’t say that. You haven’t been living at all these past hundred years. You’ve been frozen. All of you. Including Kieran. You deserve a chance to live.”

He regards me with a softened expression. Somehow it reminds me of the look my mother used to give me whenever I threw a tantrum after learning my father wasn’t going to show up for a birthday or two, back when I was a kid who couldn’t understand that we just can’t have everything.

I can’t understand it now. I don’t understand why I have to grip the hilt of the sword – my sword – he hands to me, why I have to brace myself for the possibility of death. Of murder, if anything gets out of hand. Why Kieran would want to leave us.

Why things have to end.

Bayorn leaves. The air in this place suddenly grows thin. Even in my chainmail, my skin pricks at the stale draft that rushes in from the window.

The windows are open. Someone might come in this way.

I cross the room to shut the windows tight, even though they’re too small for anybody but a child to climb into.

The oxygen level in the room suddenly drops to an unsettling degree. I open my mouth and try to suck in deep inhales. They turn into quicker gasps. There’s not enough air.

My hands trail along the tables, the handles of the weapons, the racks. I can’t breathe. I have to leave this place.

Someone is going to die. That someone could even be me. I will never go home.

I will die here.

I can’t see anything but the stone floors until my hands fumble with the latch on the door. They barely thump against the heavy wood until it gives way.

Air. I gasp and bend over my knees.

“Isabelle?” a voice rumbles in the distance. I blink at the cartoon red of my sneakers. One set of shoelaces are undone. How could I not double-knot them at a time like this?

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“Isabelle.”

A hand grips my shoulder with a sudden force. I jerk free from the person’s touch and straighten up.

Recognition falls over the set blue in Kieran’s eyes. He gives me space.

“Breathe,” he tells me. “Breathe. You’re alright. Look at me – you’re alright.”

One of us mimics the other’s deep inhales and exhales. He keeps saying words I can’t decipher until they start to overshadow the other voices in my head.

When I finally find some ounce of stability, he reaches out to catch my outstretched arm. The tips of my fingers sink into the warmth of his skin.

He winces but glances away to hide it. But it’s too late.

“You’re transforming,” I realize. The sun has barely begun to set.

“I’ll be with you guys for as long as I can,” he says instead, gripping my elbow tighter. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Will it last longer this time?”

“Probably. Lady Selaena says the worst is yet to come.”

I run a hair through my hair. This day just keeps getting better and better by the moment, huh?

“You can’t hurt them, Kieran. We can’t let anybody get hurt.”

“I know, I know. Astrid’s already given me the lecture.”

“What are we going to do?”

He regards me for a second. He moves his hand up to my shoulder.

“If you want to go home, nobody will fault you for it. There is no dishonor in having a choice.”

Control is not a luxury I have possessed for many years, Bayorn had said.

Despite my thumping heart and the restlessness in my bones, I have to shake my head. I have to tell him: “No.”

I have to fight. For them.

Kieran nods. He reaches up to run a hand over the side of my face. It’s a gesture that sends a wave of comfort over me. I exhale into the veins embedded in his wrists.

“We will protect each other,” he vows. “That’s all that matters. Until the very end.”

“Okay,” I say, willing myself to stay calm. To breathe. “Until the very end.”

Astrid

I cannot bring myself to say goodbye to my best friend in the whole world.

Alfeir stills at my touch. His initial restlessness upon sensing the urgency in the air when the rest of us were bustling about making preparations disappears as soon as my hand rests upon his muzzle.

I have already released Bayorn’s old steed, and now I must release my father’s gift to me. My last family member.

“You will find plenty of these if you can find your way to one of the towns. I daresay they will not recognize you in Ainsfrel, should you choose to return there,” I say, bringing a sugar cube up to his mouth. He takes it up greedily, leaving some slobber on my palm.

“But you’d like to be free, wouldn’t you? With Lumiere, perhaps. Or even Valkyrie, if she will let either of you near her.”

I am talking nonsense, of course. Every word coming out of my mouth is silly. What is even sillier is that, even as I speak, the tears start to fall to the ground like rain.

When he dips his muzzle against my shoulder, I cannot spout any more ridiculousness. I can only bury my face in his beautiful hazelnut mane and cling onto him for a shadow of the security I cannot seem to find.

Alfeir waits patiently until I manage to steer my thoughts back into coherence. Time is running out. My lips press against his cheek one final time. He nickers next to my ear.

“Goodbye, old friend,” I whisper.

He follows me out of his stall, probably wondering why I am not fitting any saddle or bridle on him. When I simply stand aside, he waits for me.

My hand lingers on his body. A lump rises in my throat.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

He starts at my soft thump against his rear. Releasing a neigh, he curves out along the walls and eventually the sound of his gallops recede.

When I make my way out of Alfeir’s stall, Lady Selaena stands in front of Valkyrie’s open stall. It should not surprise me that the mare stands obediently still before her as she gazes up at it. I quickly wipe the tears off my cheeks with the back of my hand.

She keeps one arm folded behind her back as she reaches up to touch the horse’s muzzle.

“I gifted it to him, you know,” she murmurs solemnly.

“There were many other horses to choose from in the royal stables, but he always loved wild things.” Her eyes flick towards my appearance, as if finally acknowledging my presence. “So when the monster killed near every living thing in this castle, I made sure Valkyrie and Lumiere were always protected. I...I suppose I’ve always had a soft spot for these intelligent creatures.”

“As do I,” I say. Her nose twitches ever so slightly when I come to stand beside her, but I ignore her obvious disdain.

“Then perhaps we have one thing in common, after all,” she sniffs.

We stand in silence before Valkyrie. I feed her the last sugar cube, to which she responds with a contented snort.

I break the peace after a minute or so.

“I have another request.”

“On top of all the other orders you’ve given me?”

“Yes. Take Eli somewhere safe if none of us survive this. Somewhere he can grow up a happy child and live knowing his mother’s love.”

These are not my own words; Imogen had requested this of me just before Bayorn ordered me to the stables. I hate that I am even asking this. But more so, I hate that I believe in its possibility.

Lady Selaena sighs. “And what makes you think I will not grow bored before all this even ends and leave?”

I tear my eyes away from Valkyrie to fix her with my most deadpan stare.

“Because you care for Kieran. And Kieran cares for the boy.”

This time, she makes no sarcastic remark nor derisive smirk to downplay the weight behind my words. Instead a new expression takes over her face, one I have not seen before: her eyes turn into two pools of endless emptiness. She drops her arms to her side.

She looks...weary.

“You can make every preparation you want, Astrid, but nothing will ever prepare you for what you must suffer through. Take it from me: pain is inevitable.”

She bunches one hand into a fist. Then, slowly, her slender fingers extend. She blows unseen dust off her palm at Valkyrie.

Stepping back, she lets her hand fall again. The mare gallops off into the twilight without hesitation.

Something about watching the horses leave digs up a well in my chest. I know something terrible is coming – I know there must be a greater price to pay for the breaking of our curse, greater than I can possibly imagine.

Tonight might even be the end of my own life as I know it.

My fate thus far truly has been cruel enough for me to believe that only worse times will come.

“I know,” I say, my voice equally as tired as she looks. “And you know what we agreed, Lady Selaena. If you do nothing else to help us, you will at least keep your promise to me.”

She nods at the castle grounds.

“Make that boy suffer for what he has done.”