For the first time, I smiled.
How perfect.
On the way to the entrance, I’d passed the dragons who’d been wearing costumes with curved ears and long tails. They’d flapped their wings in protest like it was a party trick.
Were they meant to be…flying monkeys?
I’d shaken my head at myself.
Why, what an absurd thought. Of course, they must be Halflings of some sort.
Then I’d blinked at Ambrose, Ezekiel, and Ty who were guarding the shifters dressed in the same costumes. Ambrose had clutched his tail in his hand and glared at me like he’d been daring me to laugh.
Candles and bells, how could a witch resist, when her dominant Seelie professor looked cute enough to cuddle?
“Aye, laugh it up,” Ambrose had said, disgruntled.
Ezekiel had slipped a wink to Ty, who’d flapped his wings and hopped (almost like he was doing a monkey impression).
When Ambrose had swung Ty onto his back with a chuckle, it’d been startling.
Fox trusted Ezekiel after what he called their walled up alive bonding experience, and Sleipnir trusted Ambrose would do anything to save his son.
I’d protect any Rebel who’d only become a professor to survive. When I quested my magic through the roots of the academy, I sensed that only ghost traces of the wards remained: thin, brittle threads that were ready to snap.
Tonight, I’d break them.
Tonight, I’d destroy my curse.
Tonight, I’d free all Rebels.
But first, I had to face the past that haunted me.
Taking a deep breath, I adjusted the choker at my neck, smoothed down my dress, and strode towards the archway.
“Hold the fuck up, boss,” Flair called.
I glanced at the dark specters of Flair and Echo, who were circling above me. “I’m late to the ball, and so are you.”
“We were looking for the chicken costumes that your foxy fuck said we should wear, remember?” Flair’s beak snapped in a warning series of clicks.
“Ah, indeed.”
“But then we realized that we didn’t have any magic to make them, unlike the pretty Princes, and that we’re invisible anyway,” Flair’s voice became steely.
“Invisible, invisible, invisible,” Echo sang; I winced.
“You don’t fuck with the crow twins.” Flair flapped to the entrance. “You don’t mind if we neuter the cat, boss? It’s the chicken’s turn to hunt the fox!”
Ah, sweet revenge.
But I had to hide my smile because my familiars loved Fox now the same as me, and once they loved, they were loyal. Of course, that didn’t mean his balls were safe.
“I do mind,” I called out. “As will he. No neutering of anyone. Do I have to make that a rule?”
“When do I follow rules?” Flair waggled his tail feathers.
Echo glanced down at me, before following his brother. “I’ll kiss foxy, after my brother pecks him. Don’t forget us…?”
I didn’t miss the insecurity that I’d leave the academy without them one way or another. “Never.”
All of a sudden, a cold wind blew down my neck.
“Robin…?” I whispered.
Please, please, please…
Then the gust of breeze circled me, catching me in its whirlwind embrace. I gasped, as it held me with one step into the hall and one foot still in the shadows.
“Robin…?” I screamed into the darkness.
I blinked against the sharp slice of the wind. An outline formed, which was first no more than a smudge of charcoal, and then like painted sweeps of green and gold, the ghostly outline was filled in, until Robin stood before me.
Hecate above, Robin had been returned to me.
I froze. When I should’ve rushed into my lover’s arms, I was paralyzed at the shock of his resurrection.
Well, now I knew how the Immortals must’ve felt at Hecate’s Tree.
Robin’s smile was soft, however, as he took the step towards me, sweeping me into his arms.
He could touch me…?
His chest was muscled. He smelled of sweet blackberries.
He was alive.
On my magic, if this was a dream, never let me wake.
Joy thrilled through me; my magic spiraled up to dance around the stars.
Robin slipped one arm around my waist to rest his hand in the small of my back, while clasping his other hand in mine. Then he led me in a slow dance to Sleipnir’s beautiful fuzzy guitar, which mesmerized like a trance.
I couldn’t look away from the emerald of Robin’s eyes. How had I ever broken his gaze?
“Am I doing this right, wife?” He asked, biting his lip.
When he stepped on my toes, I hid the gasp with an over bright smile. “You’re an excellent dancer, husband. Have you been taking lessons?”
Robin snorted, but his eyes creased in the corners in the way that I loved. “Liar.” Yet he was still smiling. “It was my greatest wish to dance with you at the Enchanted Ball, no matter how hard I was beaten for it after. I planned to give you the Your Hearts Desire Book as an official courting gift. I’d loved you for so long, and I don’t think that I even realized how much, not truly. Dying for you was nothing.”
“Not nothing.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded. “But letting you go tonight…that will be something.”
My joy died inside, becoming heavy in my guts. My magic fell like pink falling stars around us.
“How are you here tonight?” I demanded.
“Horn and hoof, just let me dance a little longer and then…” He rested his cheek against mine.
How was it warm?
I shook, clutching him like he’d vanish at any moment. Inside in the light, were my lovers, professors, patrons, and Titus.
Yet here I was, dancing in the arms of the man who’d been dead for decades.
Reluctantly, Robin drew back to look at me but he didn’t stop our slow dance. “Do you remember your papa’s peacock amulet?”
I blinked. “Well, aren’t you quite the Romeo. Do you wish to discuss mother’s hat collection as well?
Robin rubbed his nose against mine in a way that was so familiar it hurt. “Please don’t mention those appalling robin skin hats.” He shuddered. “Your papa was a good man. He cared for me when nobody else did and he taught me secrets of my mage heritage, including my god, Pan.”
I paled. “I remember, and he would’ve been whipped for such sacrilege. It appears that papa was quite the rebel, and braver than me.”
I loved the pride that swept across Robin’s expression because I knew that it was mirrored on my own. “The lie was that the peacock amulet was showy finery. In truth, it was a Blood Amulet to bind his magic.”
I stopped dancing, wrenching away from Robin.
My mouth was suddenly dry; I couldn’t swallow.
I didn’t believe it… I wouldn’t…
Mother had murdered my mage lover, while marrying her own?
“The hypocrite,” I howled.
Robin caught me, as my knees buckled. He soothed over my hair.
“Hush,” Robin kissed my hair in light pecks, “it’s done. Your mother and he were friends as children, and when he revealed his magic, she persuaded his family to give him to her, rather than to throw him to the wolves. Yet the deal was that he must hide his magic. Why not rejoice that he wasn’t killed?”