“I have your favorite unicorn tied up outside the window. You can escape on it,” Cerené said.
“I won’t escape,” Shew said. “I will fight.”
“Don’t be impulsive. You still need to learn a lot. You still need to find your own Art,” Cerené said. “There is a cottage in the forest that I know of.”
“What cottage?” Shew wondered, already heading for the window. “Is it safe?”
“I found it once and hid in it when running from my stepsisters,” Cerené explained. “It’s my secret place from the darkness in Sorrow. I don’t know if it’ that safe, but its secret is that you can only get if someone guide you to it. It’s like Candy House; it changes places. I met a kind old man there once who told me I could go hide in the cottage anytime I like.”
“What old man?” Shew turned around.
“When you get there, you’ll see there are other people using it. I haven’t met them, but don’t fear them. They look lost like you and me.”
They look LOST like you and me.
The words rang in Shew’s head. This must be them, The Lost Seven.
“You didn’t answer, Cerené. What old man?”
“His name is Charmwill. Love his name, but I don’t think you’ll see him again. I just met him once. Just go now,” Cerené pushed her. “I’ll find you.”
“How?” Shew asked. “How am I even supposed to find the cottage?”
“Ah. I forgot,” Cerené walked to one of the bigger candlesticks in the chamber. She pulled out one of her mixes and let it heat. She attached the molten to her blowpipe and breathed into it. She ran back to Shew, and blew her pipe onto the world outside, “the butterfly,” Cerené pointed at the butterfly fluttering out into the world, just out of her blowpipe. It looked like the one Shew had seen in the hallway. “It will usher you to the cottage through a secret path. Hurry and follow it before it dies. The life I gave it won’t last long. Take my bag also. I think it will help you.”
“What’s in the bag?”
“You’ll see as you ride,” Cerené replied.
Shew took the bag, ready to follow the butterfly. Although she could hear the servants’ footsteps outside, she turned back to Cerené, needing to ask a question.
“How did you resurrect me?” Shew asked.
“I heard Dame Gothel say she could bring your soul back within forty-two minutes with her snake,” Cerené said. “I thought I’d use my breath through the blowpipe and see if it worked.”
“Every breath you give is a breath taken from you,” Shew reminded her.
“Yes,” Cerené giggled. “I thought if I’m going to give my breath away, I’d give it to someone who deserved it, instead of butterflies and sea horses.”
“You gave me your life, Cerené,” Shew said. “Those breaths you gave will shorten your life severely.”
“Life comes and goes, Joy,” Cerené said. “Friendship stays,” she raised her blowpipe like a victorious leader to her troops. “Now go. I have to escape through the fireplace, too.”
Shew jumped out of the window and landed on her unicorn. She rode it away with tears in her eyes.
34
A Path of Butterflies
Shew rode away.
She galloped down the hills, heading back to the fields before the forest, looking for the butterfly she’d missed when talking to Cerené.
Hordes of horses and three-eyed unicorns were coming after her. Dame Gothel and the servants urged the locals of the kingdom to help them hunt down the princess. They persuaded them that Shew was a vampire on Night Sorrow’s side. Regretfully, Shew snarled at a couple of locals trying to block her way, making Dame Gothel’s lie believable. Shew had no time to prove otherwise. She had to find the butterfly.
The poppy fields spread wide in front of her. She rode her unicorn across the fields as the weather changed all of a sudden. The sky darkened slowly into purple-reddish patches and snow began to fall, burying the lovely poppy flowers with a thick layer of white. Her unicorn struggled in the snow and the dark but still kept on going.
What is happening to the weather?
The thought reminded Shew that she had been capable of controlling the weather to her liking in the Waking World. It was one of the Sorrow’s powers. She must have learned to control that power later after she’d split her heart because it was beyond her capabilities now. Carmilla had changed the weather, trying to slow the princess down.
The weather slowed the locals down, but not the huntsmen. They were getting closer.
Still looking for the butterfly, Shew opened the bag Cerené had given to her. A wicked smile crossed her face when she saw its content. The bag was full of chalk and dead Rapunzel plants. Shew knew what to do with them.
Finally, Shew saw the butterfly, fluttering her feeble fiery wings against the cold. She admired the butterfly’s courage in this stormy and darkened weather. It put a brief smile on her face. Shew stretched out her hand, hoping it would get the message and rest upon her palm, but the butterfly wasn’t there to take shelter in the warmth of her hand. She was there to show her the way.
Shew followed the butterfly into the Black Forest.
She began marking trees with chalk on her way. It was Cerené’s gift to her so she could find her way back if she needed, and also to have some kind of a map to get to the cottage in the future, in case Cerené couldn’t create guiding butterflies for her.
A little later, the butterfly stopped by a tree. It kept circling around a certain leaf buried in the white snow.
“What?” Shew asked, her heart beating fast as the distant voices of the huntsmen worried her. “What do you want from me? Just show me the way to the cottage.”
The butterfly continued circling, its wings getting heavier. Shew worried it would die. She knew butterflies were Cerené’s longest living creations, but they died eventually like everything else.
“You want me to pick up the leaf?” Shew reached for it, watching the butterfly land on the back of her hand.
“You want me to be gentle?” Shew said impatiently.
She moved her hand slowly over the leaf, brushing the thick snow away. Underneath it, there were seven caterpillars. Shew’s heart almost stopped. It reminded her of another suppressed memory of Angel Sorrow’s infatuation with butterflies. The King of Sorrow had kept caterpillars safe in his garden, taking care of them. He’d been fascinated by their life cycle, watching as their cocoons as the fought their way to a new life.
You have no time for this! That damn voice inside Shew’s head growled. Forget the butterflies and run for your life.
“I know what to do,” Shew told the butterfly, burying her inner thoughts in the same dark place in her mind they came from. She imagined what Cerené would have done if she were in her shoes.
“We’ve got seven soon-to-be-beautiful passengers on board,” she told her unicorn, wrapping the caterpillars in their own protective leaf and tucking them in a safe place in her dress.
The butterfly flew higher, swirling with gratitude then began leading the way to the cottage again.
Then Shew heard the sound of approaching huntsmen. The butterfly froze in its place.
“Don’t worry,” Shew told it. “I think I know what to do,” she pulled a fistful of Rapunzel plants out, remembering when Cerené told her they would come to life again if planted back in the earth. She got off her unicorn and started planting the vicious plants everywhere, creating a shield against the huntsmen when they arrived.
“We’re going to rip off your toes!” One of the plants screamed at Shew.
“Can’t you just be grateful and shut up?” Shew complained, making sure not to walk near them. The plants were dark by nature and knew no manners.