Faetality |✓|

Chapter Eighteen, Part Three - Step Into the Light

"So he basically killed himself as a recruitment tactic? I didn't ask for that - that's not fair!"

Oberon offered no response, He merely continued to stand there, watching me fall to pieces while offering no support. Was this part of the Seelie way too?

"I can't do this," I said quietly, and shook my head. "I'm sorry, but as much as I hate to say it - Acheron died in vain. I've made my decision. I'm not joining any Court."

"I suspected you might choose as such," was Oberon's reply. And not a hint of surprise had crossed his face. His features remained blank and unreadable. "I will respect your wishes - though I cannot say that my sister will do the same."

"I know she won't," I said quietly, clearing my throat. "But I don't care. Once I've found a way to help Westley, I'm done with the Fae. I wasn't sure before, but I'm positive now that I don't belong in the Otherworld. You and Westley really did me a solid all those years ago, when you rescued me."

"So I see," he replied, this time with not only the shadow of a smile but something that I suspected was very close to pride. "But now that you and I have finally met, I must warn you that Titania's Slaugh will return for you. He will expect a decision. In her own, tiresome way my sister is also a martinet for rules."

"Don't worry, I can handle myself," I assured.

"Then farewell, young Tamsyn. Until we meet again."

"Good-bye, Uncle."

I blinked and Oberon was gone, leaving me alone in a ring of grass that was quickly blackening. The green leaves on the trees all shriveled and fell away. The flowers lost their petals and all warmth was leached from the air. I stood alone in a ring of darkness, the Queen of everything dead.

* * *

I may have sworn to myself that I would never return to the Gentle Words after that, but unfortunately it was a promise that I failed to keep. This, I blamed on the Sorcerer.

"How many times are people gonna force me to come out here anyway?" I grumbled to myself, breathing hot air against my cold fingers. In my haste to meet Westley, I had brought my jacket and but forgotten my gloves.

"Ah, shut yer gob," the Sorcerer commanded, picking his way carefully through the trees. "Yeh've got the easy part, haven't yeh? Just waitin' and standin' guard. I'm the one who has to go in after the bloody thing."

"If there was ever a time we needed the Blade of Woe it would be now, don't ya think?" I replied. "Especially since we're not only outcasts but targets as well. So excuse me if I'm a bit cranky. Hmph."

Choosing to ignore me, the Sorcerer said nothing. Instead, he stopped short, pulling the box from a black sports rucksack he wore at his back. Inside was also stored a gallon of water, an Ipod with headphones, and an ugly, pointed knife. I had yet to ask him what any of it could be for.

"What are you doing?" I asked, frowning as he set the box down in the snow.

Westley squinted through the trees up to the iron grey sky. As usual, there was almost no visible sunshine, which only caused our surrounding to be that much colder. Looking around us, I shivered, reminded of Werewolves, and Vampires, and Fae and whatever other dangers could be lurking unseen about us.

"This is a good spot," he determined. "Ok, get back."

Silently, I obliged, all too happy to comply.

Carefully, whilst peeking carefully from behind a tree, I watched as the Sorcerer next produced a small, silver key from his pocket. He squatted down before the box, inserted the key, and twisted. A second later the box's lid snapped open...

Revealing absolutely nothing

"What? That can't be it!" I called out, utterly disappointed as I stepped from behind the tree. The box was completely barren - just a small interior that was lined in black velvet. I had at least expected jewelry.

"Never said 'twas," replied Westley, straightening as he stepped back with a smirk. "Et erubescant ex te,"

I found myself jumping back as the box immediately began to melt. It hissed and oozed until it collapsed in on itself, stretching until it had melted into a pile of what I could only describe as being a thick, black goo.

"What is that thing?"

"Pandora's Box - didn't yeh figure it out? What'd yeh think the 'P' stood for?"

"Well, I dunno," I replied, offended. "How was I supposed to know my mom had a little box full of evil packed away in our attic? So excuse me for hoping the P stood for something a little less dramatic."

"Jayzus," he replied, shaking his head. "Look, just stand over there, alright?" Westley approached me, removing the Sapphire from beneath the neck of his dark, North Face jacket. He took my hand and carefully pressed the jewel into it.

"And take quare good care of this for me, would yeh?"

Before I could stop him or even ask what the hell he was doing, Westley covered his nose with one hand, took a running leap, and jumped feet first into the goo-poodle. He went straight down, as if disappearing into the earth. As he did so there was a small eruption of fluid, the same you would see when a diver plunges into the pool from a diving board. The fluid dropped back down in a controlled spray, and then the goo seemed to be retracting into itself, taking only a few seconds to disappear entirely.

Several moments later I timidly stepped from behind the tree, inspecting the ground where Westley and the box had been. But the forest floor was as solid as ever. Even the snow itself remained intact.

"Gosh-damnit, Westley," I said aloud, and continued to toe the ground, realizing that he had left me all alone.

* * *