First Light (43 page)

“Don’t leave me, Adrielle.”

Darkness closed in, and I was powerless to heed his request.

Nearly all feeling had left my body. I could not speak or see or move my limbs, yet I heard Cristian speaking, as if from very far away.

“What can I do? Tell me what I must do!” Urgency filled his voice.

“You must believe and use the power foretold.”

Merry Anne is here, too.
I could hear her— hear them— though just barely.

It did not seem as though Cristian heard her. “Someone help me,” he called again. “Please.”

“The poor, poor boy.” Kindra’s voice.

“And what of Adrielle?” Zipporah now. “Look what she has been through. She was so brave. She could have run, you know.”

“She never would have,” Florence said. “She loves him.”

I
do
love him,
I wanted to cry out.
Take care of him for me when I am gone.

“He loves her so much, it is breaking his heart.” Merry Anne sounded terribly sad.

“Can we not help him just a little?” Kindra asked.

“No!” the other three fairies answered in unison.

“She may still die. She
will
die if we interfere. You know the laws of magic,” Merry Anne said.

“Only believers may partake in the miracles thereof. Yes, yes. I know,” Kindra said grudgingly. “Fairies shall not interfere with the process beyond the most basic use of their gifts.”

“And a curse may not be binding if the one giving it dies before it is carried out.” Zipporah added.

“Thank heavens for that,” Florence said.

“Come, sisters,” Merry Anne said. “We should not be here. There is no more we can do.”

A whisper of wind brushed my hand, and I felt my fingers folded over something small and hard.

Though I had not seen them, I felt the fairies’ presence depart as if a warm breeze had left, replaced by a chill that was steadily making its way toward my slowing heart. I
was
dying.

“Don’t leave me, Adrielle.
Don’t
leave me.” Cristian cradled my head in his lap.

I was barely conscious of his touch. My body seemed not my own anymore. I tried to think of Cristian, to stay near him, but it was becoming more difficult. The distance between us was widening. I felt myself leaving the earth.

“Adrielle,” he pled. “I love you. Don’t leave me.” He took my hand, unfolding it to press my fingers flat to his face.

Whatever the fairies had placed in my palm fell, and I heard Cristian’s sudden intake of breath.

“The charmed bracelet.” His voice was gruff. “Made of pearls given by the— merfolk in the sea.” I felt a drop splash onto my cheek. “It’s said the pearls grant wishes—” It sounded like he was crying. “—if you believe.”

My chest tightened, and I struggled for breath. It felt as though a great, crushing weight had settled on me. Cristian’s voice was only a whisper now.

“I— believe.” He spoke as one with newfound conviction. “I believe in magic and fairies and curses and powers greater than man can understand or create. I believe love the strongest of all, and it
can bring you back to me, Adrielle.
” His voice rose in strength and volume. I tried to hold on to it.

“I love you, Adrielle,” he sobbed. “And I wish you to be well and whole again. I wish you to live!”

Air surged into my lungs, and a jolt shocked my nearly still heart. I gasped; my eyes opened, released from the weight that had held them closed.

Cristian leaned over me, a pearl in his outstretched hand. His face was wet with tears, and he gathered me close, kissing the top of my head and whispering endearments.

“My girl. My brave, brave girl. My princess.”

I lifted my hand to his face, brushing away his sorrow. For one moment our eyes met, full of joy. Then suddenly his gaze slid from mine, his eyes rolling back in his head. His arms went slack.

“Cristian.” I sat up as he fell, his head crushing the grass as he landed hard. “
Cristian!
” I grabbed the shoulder that had not been hurt and shook him. He didn’t respond.

“Merry Anne,” I cried. “Help us.” I bent over Cristian, searching for the injury that had caused this. Like me, he was burned and wounded, but I could see nothing that might have caused his abrupt change. Pressing my face to his chest, I listened for a heartbeat. It was faint and much too slow. I called for the fairies again.

“Florence—”
She’ll make a tea to heal him.
“Zipporah. Kindra,” I yelled. “I need you.”

Soft fairy wings fluttered near my cheek, and Merry Anne came to rest on Cristian’s knee. I nearly wept with relief.

“Help him,” I pled. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Merry Anne’s tiny frame trembled as she spoke. “Cristian used the sword that Nadamaris cursed. He spilled her blood with it, transferring its evil into himself.”

“I spilled her blood, too,” I said. “
My
hand was on the sword, yet his wish healed me.” Why
had they given him the last pearl?

“The sword’s evil could not transfer to you,” Merry Anne said. “You’d already pricked your finger and had the curse running through your veins, acting as an anti-venom.”

I didn’t understand and knew only that I must save Cristian. Whatever must be done, I would do it— anything to bring him back. “There must be something—”

“No.” Merry Anne’s tiny head turned back and forth. “The poison in his blood will slowly make its way to his heart, and when it does, he will die.”

I looked up at the clouded sky and thought that the woods surrounding Castle Canelia would soon be lush and green again. Since our return three days ago, I’d kept vigil by Cristian’s side, my hand on his, slid through the hole cut in the glass covering him. Florence said it was our touch that had kept the rain steadily falling. Kindra said it was heaven weeping, and she didn’t think she’d ever be able— or want— to build a fire again. Merry Anne kept knitting me new sweaters to replace those that became soaked as I sat in the rain.

Though my parents and his had wished to have him lie in state at the castle, I remembered the way Cristian had longed to see the world, to get outside of the one he’d been brought up in, so I had insisted he be placed in the forest where at least the beauty might see him, if not the other way around. Cristian’s father, grief-stricken with the loss of his only son, had reluctantly agreed.

I had asked for and been granted this time alone with Cristian, though I had promised that when he drew his last breath, his parents would take him back to Rincoln for burial there. Kindra told me that time was near. Cristian had grown steadily colder, until I knew we had perhaps only hours left together. Though he never moved or spoke or gave any indication— other than the faintest pulse— that he still lived, I felt his presence lingering, as if he, too, didn’t want to say goodbye.

I sensed someone else lingering, standing behind me, perhaps waiting for a moment to pay his respects.

Whoever it was could wait. So long as Cristian lived, I refused to leave his side. But I did turn around to see who our visitor was.

Surprise and anger exploded inside me when I saw Gemine walking toward us. I stood to block his way, preventing him from coming any closer.

“Get out! Go away. How
dare
you show yourself here?” I pushed against him. “This is your fault. He’s dying because of you!” When Gemine didn’t budge, I began hitting him, pounding his chest with my fists as fresh tears fell. Soon I was a sobbing, hysterical mess. All the while, Gemine stood there, unmoving, taking his punishment.

It wasn’t enough.

When my sobs overtook all else, he continued to stand silently and let me cry, never once trying to touch me or offer false comfort. I stepped away from him, doubled over in grief and pain.
If only Gemine hadn’t told Cristian where to find me. If only he hadn’t brought me to Nadamaris in the first place. If only.

All the losses of the past months piled up as if in a great mound on my heart. I could no longer bear them, could not see how I would ever live with this much sorrow. My weeping renewed, and, powerless to stop it, I slid into the chair at Cristian’s side and pressed my face to the glass, my tears mingling with the rain trailing down the side.

“You were right,” Gemine said, and I managed to lift my head long enough to bestow a look of absolute hatred upon him.

“I
am
a coward,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have bargained with the queen. I should have fought beside you.” He glanced down at the casket. “Beside Prince Cristian.”

I had no intention of accepting Gemine’s apology— if that’s what this was. Little good his change of heart did now.

“But worse than that,” he continued. “I shouldn’t have taken this for myself.” He held his hand out to me, palm up, a glowing pearl in its center. I gasped.
A charmed pearl. I can save Cristian!
The idea fled my mind almost as soon as it had entered.
No charm can restore him. Nadamaris’s magic was too strong.
I brought a hand to my mouth, stifling another sob.

If only I’d had the pearl when we first met Nadamaris in the garden.

“I
am
a coward,” Gemine repeated. “I took this from you when you slept on our ride to Nadamaris’s castle— and it was I who caused you to sleep so soundly. I wanted the pearl as a last resort with the queen, had she not kept her bargain to let our people go when I brought you to her.”

I stared at Gemine through a watery haze, wanting to fly at him again. He deserved a beating or worse, deserved every awful punishment.

How dare he take my pearl, my last hope!
But
had
he really taken it? Hadn’t Cristian used the last one to save me? Merry Anne herself had placed it in my hand, and he had found it. So what was Gemine up to now with this story and obviously false pearl? Had he found another evil queen to betray me to? Was there more fortune to be gained at my expense?

“Guards!” In a matter of seconds, they emerged from the trees and surrounded us. “Remove him.” I inclined my head toward Gemine. Leaving them to deal with him, I turned back to Cristian.

“I won’t go. Not until you take this.” Gemine dared touch my shoulder.

I shrugged him off. “There is nothing left to wish for.”

“You don’t wish Prince Cristian to live?” Gemine sounded confused.

“Of course I do,” I shouted, jumping up to face him. “But it’s
too late.
A pearl cannot wish someone alive, and it cannot counteract a more powerful, black magic. It will not help me now.” I turned away. “And it’s impossible that is the real pearl anyway.”

He dared to touch me again, this time grabbing my arm and pulling me around to face him. “You’re wrong. It is real, and I’ve seen that this will work. Mother showed me—”

“Snake. Coward. And now liar.” I spat the words at him. “Leave me.” The guards closed in, their weapons drawn.

Gemine’s eyes narrowed. He took my hand and slapped the pearl into it. “I’ve given you the power to save him. Prince Cristian’s death be upon your head now.”

The guards seized Gemine and dragged him away, leaving me alone with Cristian once more. I reached through the hole in the glass and took his hand in mine. Between us we held the pearl, perhaps magical, but likely not. In either case, not strong enough to bring back what once was mine.