In order to go home.
Because I sure as shit am not staying in this crazy place a second longer than I have to.
“Cameras?” Bain asks, and it occurs to me that he might not even know what a camera is. I haven’t seen anyone with a cellphone here. No TVs. No computers. Pretty sure they don’t have the sort of technology that we do back home. “They have scrying orbs, certainly, but I’ve planted an enchantment in your room. Anyone who looks in on you will only see what they want to see.” A small smile quirks his lips. “That should prove interesting.” Bain unties a golden key from his braid and tosses that onto the bed. “You can put the glasses back on using this, but try to wear them as little as possible.”
“Wait!” I call out, before he can do that spinning thing and disappear again. “Why not just take me with you?”
“Oh, little wizard,” he says with a sad smile, pulling his hat off briefly and holding it against his chest. The little glowing fairy inside it flitters out, circling my head a few times before alighting on Taavi’s back. It’s hard for me to see what she’s doing through the orb-like glow around her, but she manages to snap off an extra dog tag that I hadn’t noticed before. There are the one he’s always worn—a black matte skull with the name Toto engraved on one side as well as a rabies tag—and the one the fairy’s just removed. “Don’t despair. We’ll meet again.”
Bain smirks as the fairy drops the tag on the bed. It’s in the shape of a green emerald, and a true testament to how tired and freaked-out I’ve been that I hadn’t noticed it before.
As soon as the tag comes off, Taavi lets out a long, low groan, his body shifting into that of a naked man as I sit there gaping.
“You could’ve fixed him this whole time?!” I snap as I waver between wanting to rub Taavi’s back and wanting to get as far away from his muscular form as possible. He lifts his head up, but with great effort, like he’s got the hangover of the century or something.
“You manic witch,” he snarls as Bain’s smirk turns into light laughter.
The fairy fiddles around with the tag before flying back up and diving into Bain’s hat. He replaces it on his head and then points a golden nail at the tag.
“You’ll be able to remove and replace that tag, as needed. I don’t know how many times I need to stress this, but do not let Dorothy discover it. Don’t let her or her minions discover any of my tricks. If she knows I’ve been here, I’ll have a hell of a time coming back.”
Bain spins on his heel three times before disappearing as if he’d never been.Taavi sits up fully, looking like he’s torn between passing out and vomiting. The old leather collar my dad splurged on hangs around his neck, the skull tag hanging in front of his pale throat. He blinks blurry eyes and turns to look at me, his expression puzzled as he tries to put together our situation.
“What was the witch doing here?” he growls, his voice more animal than human. As if he’s just realized how he sounds, Taavi clears his throat and tries again. “How long have I been … out?” The way he says that last part makes me wonder if he doesn’t have at least some memories of the last few days.
“I’m not sure,” I say, standing up and using a fresh teacup to pour some jasmine-scented liquid for Taavi. Four pots of tea came on my tray, with a cup for each. There are plenty of cakes, too, and I decide to grab the whole platter rather than put any on a plate. I hand the cup to Taavi and set the cakes down on the bed. “I woke up last night, got summoned to see Dorothy this morning.”
Taavi stares at me for a long moment, searching my face for … something. He growls again and turns back to his tea, sniffing it and then downing the cup in one swallow. I get him another.
“I thought I was dreaming,” he says, his voice deep and rough, on the edge of a growl, but most definitely human this time. As he sips the second cup—more slowly now—I wrap the candies Bain gave me in a shift I find in the top drawer of the dresser. His brown eyes watch me curiously as I slip into the bathroom and stick them behind the toilet, wedging them between the tank and the wall.
“How much do you remember?” I ask as I sit back down on the bed, sweeping loose strands of brown away from my face. Taavi looks me over, taking in the voluminous mountain of green skirts, the tightly cinched bodice, and the string of emeralds around my neck. I fiddle with them, rubbing my thumb across the surface of one. Unlike the stones outside the castle walls, these ones feel real.
