Foxheart

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sighing, Esme stripped and turned on the shower and got in quickly instead of waiting for the water to heat up. She scrubbed herself down with the bar of soap she found and gave her short hair a rub, but, as she showered, her hair began to grow. She glanced at the slightly steamed mirror and stiffened. Her natural black colour was beginning to seep through the blond, making her hair look like patchwork, and several locks had grown to its normal length. Elenore had warned her water would cause the glamour to falter but Esme was growing frightened she'd broken it entirely.

She clambered out of the shower and hurried over to the mirror, dripping water everywhere. Her hair was darkening still and growing in length and her eyes were this weird marble of honey yellow and blue. She began to panic.

'Oh no.' Esme breathed.

Grabbing a towel, she dashed for the door and poked her head out.

'Fox!' She bellowed.

At first she could only hear the clattering of breakfast downstairs. There were no signs Fox was rushing in response to her desperate plea so she shouted again, this time louder. A door now opened and she could hear Fox complaining as he stomped towards the stairs. Esme fidgeted, tugging at her still growing hair, until Fox was finally up the stairs and coming down the hall looking irritated.

He took one look at her and stepped back. She flushed. She didn't like how he stared at her, like she was some kind of freak.

'I took a shower.'

'I can see that.'

'Have I broken it? I cannot remember what your friend said.'

Fox tilted his head as he gazed at her weird hair and freakish eyes that were still changing every second. She much preferred the smug or grumpy looks he'd give her, not this.

'She said water makes it weaken but won't break it. Time or magic will kill it.'

'So it'll come back?' Esme said in relief.

'Shouldn't you be able to tell this by yourself? You're the Wizard here, not me.' Fox said and folded his arms with a suspicious glare.

She didn't like the obstinate glint in his eyes so she pulled on the haughtiest expression she could. 'I cannot use my Grimoire. I told you before. If I use it, the Tower will find me.'

She was happy to see that glint vanish to be replaced by his usual annoyed scowl. She didn't want him catching onto her weak magic.

'Well hurry up and get sorted out. We want to leave soon.' Fox grumbled.

'But my hair.' Esme whispered.

'Cuckoo knows who you are. It don't matter with him and it'll fix itself by the time we need to go. Just hurry up.' Fox said and turned away, marching back down in the depths of the clock shop.

She sighed, suddenly feeling nervous about facing Cuckoo, and pulled herself back into the bathroom, shuffling over to the mirror. Her old hair was virtually back expect for a small blond path in the roots. Her eyes had turned back to the colour of her mother's. For a brief time, Esme stared at herself and it hit harder than she thought it would. She hadn't realised how upsetting not seeing her real self was.

Swallowing the tears back down, Esme breathed slowly before rubbing her hair madly. After a few seconds, she pulled the towel away. The blond patch had grown and the length was receding again.

'Well at least the spell isn't broken.' She said while not feeling an ounce of happiness.

She pulled her clothes on and trundled the creaking stairs into the lounge of Cuckoo's home. It was cluttered in here, almost as badly as his workshop, but with books instead of tools and cogs. She stood nervously in the whirlwind of mess. She could hear Fox and Cuckoo in the kitchen and the scent of warm food churned her stomach with excitement but she felt scared. Fox said Cuckoo knew who she was. Did that mean Cuckoo was an enemy now? It didn't matter now though. He knew and nothing could change that.