18.
PRESENT DAY
It was annoying that Maloru was the only person Lotte could speak to, since she didn't want to see him at all. She returned to them an hour later with Fintan sitting on her shoulder and the ache of a new tattoo pulsing on her stomach.
Both Rowan and Maloru wore twin expressions of shock when she returned. Lotte had no idea what she looked like, but she assumed the enchantment worked.
"Holy cheese," Rowan muttered.
Maloru looked away, colour flooding his dark face. "Now I understand what you were talking about..." he said, his tone sulky.
It was annoying how vulnerable and hurt he looked, as if he were a beaten puppy. Lotte vaguely knew she'd be just as vexed if he were to act cheerful too. She just found being around him very uncomfortable.
Get used to calling me Sylvarnan, she thought. It wasn't exactly an elvish name, it was what elves called girl-child. It was shortened to sylnan or changed to sulsylnan (my child) as endearments, but they didn't have to know that.
Lotte didn't know how long the enchantment would hold. It could be weeks or months before she'd be her old self again. Some tattoos wouldn't run out for years.
At least not having the best ingredients was a good thing, for once.
They travelled a mile more on foot, with Rowan constantly complaining about her aches and bothers, before climbing down a shallow ravine with earth soft enough for Maloru to root himself. They were out of view from the road and even if airships travelled overhead, they wouldn't be seen.
It was just her and Rowan again.
"Don't you get cold?" Rowan asked. "You're supposed to be half human."
Lotte did get cold, a little. Not as cold as a human felt outside during a wintry night. But it wasn't as if they were in freezing temperatures, it was just not hot like summer.
To the red light of her gaze, Lotte gathered some sticks into a pile. Using a twig dipped in mud, she drew a fire enchantment on a crumbling old leaf and placed it underneath the sticks.
They crackled in a sudden blaze. Lotte didn't expect the effect to be quite as sharp. All her enchantments seemed to be doing that lately. Maybe silence was the price she had to pay for magic. If that was the case... maybe she could fashion a new voice for herself out of all these enchantments.
She and Rowan hunted around the little ravine, feeding more sticks to the fire until it seemed to calm.
The human woman crawled as close to the flames as she could, sighing with pleasure. Lotte could feel the heat. It was nice. But, just as she didn't mind the cold, it didn't make a meaningful difference to her.
She proceeded to make, to the light of the fire, a few paper enchantments to ease Rowan's aches and to keep her warm. Humans really were a lot like babies with how gentle their constitutions were.
"You know..." Rowan said after an hour of silence. "I know it's unfair to talk to you when you can't talk back, and..." She shrugged her shoulders, looking upwards towards the stars. "I've built my whole life, one lie at a time. I'm not the best person, I'm not the best friend. Maybe I don't deserve to have a single nice thing anymore. But I'd like to believe..." Rowan looked at her in a time of sidelong way, as if she couldn't approach Lotte directly. "I'd like to believe that even liars should get second chances."
Lotte paused her drawing, brush hovering over the paper. She didn't really have a response. Silence eliminated so many possibilities.
"And I'm not just talking about me," Rowan continued. "Mal tells me you just met a few days ago. Do you even know what he went through before you met? Yeah, he made a mistake. But I'm sure he thought it was the best thing he could do. He's just a kid, you know? Kids make mistakes, and then they learn from them."
Lotte could do nothing but stare at Rowan. So, Maloru hadn't told her that he was a little older than he looked. Not that she was surprised. He didn't exactly trust Rowan because of her humanity.
Maloru idealised elves a little too much. The way he had stared at her with her enchantment in place, his eyes drinking in the sight.
Lotte shook her head. She was being too harsh. Of course he'd long to be surrounded by those like him after living his whole as a stranger. What would Lotte have given to meet another Leilan Lotte like her?
Even though she had always been an odd duck even among Yomi Lotte, she could still remember the excitement she felt the first time she met them.
Lotte handed Rowan the completed enchantments and motioned for her to put them under her clothes.
Rowan, sadly, did not understand. "These are pretty," she said politely. "Thanks."
Lotte rolled her eyes.
"Oh," Rowan said after a moment. "This is some kind of magic? This paper's all hot. You made them to help me?"
Lotte nodded, trying to keep her expression neutral.
"Ah, I get it now. You want me to put it up against my skin."
Lotte bowed her head into a nod.
"Well," Rowan said. "This is progress. Thanks...."
She made to put the enchantments under her clothes, but hesitated. "It's alright, though? Don't humans...doesn't magic kill humans?"
That was, of course, a grand misconception. Just like elves could eat flesh with traces of iron in it without falling ill, humans had no problem enduring magic. It was all a question of balance, Poe had taught her.
A balance that Lotte had disrupted inside herself.
And even Poe's teachings in her mind were losing their footing.
"Good night," Rowan said, after a time. It looked like she decided to trust Lotte with the enchantments. She was lying comfortable near the dying flames.
Lotte lay across from her, not among Maloru's roots like she usually did. It was hard to get to sleep. She felt the night-elf enchantment on her making her cling to wakefulness as the darkness whispered in her mind.
Lotte had meant for an illusion, but it didn't quite feel as illusionary as she hoped. She was taller, her senses stronger, as if she had simply given intensity to her elven side, obscuring her human side.
Leilan elves could go weeks at a time without sleep. She worried she wouldn't be able to see Blue again. After the events of today, with the bitter aftertaste of quarrelling with Maloru, she needed Blue more than ever.
She wanted to see him so badly. She closed her eyes, wanting and wanting and wanting.
She continued wanting, and without realising, she was there.
Or was she?
Blue was before her, his eyes wide with surprise. The tower room was around them—somewhat. But something was odd. She was lying on the floor as she had been when she went to sleep. And she didn't feel quite as asleep, or distant.
In fact, she could hear Rowan's breathing coming from somewhere in the tower room.
Blue was taking her in. Apparently, even here she looked different. "You missed me that badly?"
Lotte felt her face flush, and the rosy glow of her skin was lighting up the night even outside the tower room. "What makes you say that?"
"Instead of coming to see me, you summoned me to you." There was something gentle and sad about his smile, but more than anything, he looked at her with longing. She could tell he wanted to hold her, but he was being oddly restrained.
Perhaps because he was a guest in her mind now, instead of the other way around.
It was impossible for her to hold back her desires now, with him inside her own head. "Of course I missed you," she said, reaching for him.
He slid towards her at once, arms wrapping around her body. She could feel his warmth, and the racing of his heart. She could even feel the buzz of the curse as it held him in a relentless vice.
"Could I love you?" she asked. Why was she even asking? It didn't seem like either of them had a choice in the matter.
"Even if you do, I don't think you should."
She laughed. It wasn't funny. He was being serious. But hadn't she always been searching to love things? "Why did you tell me you love me if you don't think I should love you back?"
"In dreams, the distance between emotions and actions is so small, you can't even call it distance. The moment you feel love, you're already loving."
"In that case, I'm already in love with you," Lotte said. "It's too late."
He drew back a little, so he could look into her face. He still had that impossible look of longing in his eyes. She could feel the same thing spark inside her, and reached out to trace the beautiful gemstone-like scales that decorated his cheek. They were hard, but not cold. He was a lot warmer to the touch than she'd expected.
Alongside the longing, though, there was something else. A darkness worrying at the edges of this sparkling desire.
Fear.
He was afraid.
"What have we gotten ourselves into?" he whispered.
Lotte shook her head. Blue was the dragon's heir, and the magnitude of that—if she allowed herself to think about it—was overwhelming.
But, earlier today, Lotte had enchanted iron—a thing that should be impossible. Even if she never had her voice again, if she could do that, she could do so much more.
She traced her fingers over the point of his ear, pushing a lock of his silky white-blue hair behind it. "I'll save you."
"Do you think I'm worried about me?" He scoffed. "For once, I couldn't care less about me."
"I'm the only iron enchantress in the world," Lotte said, feeling her chest swell with pride. "You don't know how powerful I am. I don't know how powerful I am."
"This isn't about power or weakness, Lotte." He put his palm to her chest, making her cheeks burn even hotter. "You'll understand once you reach Serades. You'll understand, but you might also misunderstand. This needs to be remembered. Remember now. Whatever happens, don't forget now. Iron is heavy and strong, but it can also break."
His words were unnerving. She didn't know what he could mean by them. But Lotte was beyond the point of wavering. She wanted to love, and loving Blue proved as easy as drinking water. "I've been broken before," she said. "But there's always another unbroken me inside."
She could save Blue.
She could save Serades.
She could meet him in person, hold him like this.
She could even, she could...
She pulled him towards her. He drifted closer, gaze unfocused, lips looking impossibly sweet.
A squeak sounded from the corner of the tower room. They both sat up, startled. For a moment there was Rowan, sitting in the tower room, looking at Blue entangled in Lotte's arms, taking in the scene.
Then Blue and the tower vanished all at once. There was nothing but the night, the dying embers, and Maloru in his sleeping tree form.
Lotte opened her mouth in dismay, to call out for Blue.
Her voice was gone with the tower.
"I heard voices," Rowan said. "You were talking. Who was that? Where were we? How did... What..."
Lotte gathered her knees to her chest. Things were about to get very nice just then. She'd never kissed anyone before. It was one experience she had been looking forward to for some time now.
She felt both like giggling and weeping. She missed Blue already.
Rowan was watching her. Lotte couldn't explain anything. For once she was happy not to have a voice.
She pointed towards Maloru, and then pressed a finger to her lips and made an X with her arms.
"You want me to keep this a secret from Mal?" Rowan asked, doubtfully.
Lotte nodded her head vigorously. It wasn't that Maloru finding out about her nightly visits to Blue's tower bothered her. It was the having to explain herself bit that was troubling. She didn't want anyone pointing out to her how badly this could all end.
Lotte was perfectly aware.
But she was going to love Blue regardless.
It was just better not to have to argue the point with anyone.
"Yeah, okay," Rowan said, nodding her head while looking at Lotte through narrowed eyes. Then she laughed and pointed at Lotte. "I was right, though." She chuckled, lying back down, her shirt crinkling with the paper enchantments underneath. "Sighing when thinking about ink? Pfft. The girl's in love. I'm always right about these things..."
***
9 YEARS BEFORE THE WAR
Wysley didn't bother to cover Lotte's face when he hauled her out of the car. They were in a back alley in the factory district. Lotte recognised it by the smell and the graffiti sprayed on the walls. She'd wandered here before, back when she lived on the streets. He pressed the gun to the back of her neck.
"Walk," he said.
So, she walked. Eyes watching everything, searching for a way out. They thought she was just a human girl. They didn't know how strong and fast she was, how painfully she could bite, how her blood could devour their flesh and bones.
The gun was a problem. A gun could kill her just as easily as it killed humans. But they couldn't hold it all the time. If they believed her to be just a normal girl. Just a small, defenceless creature. A scared and miserable creature—they'd lower their guard.
She was scared. But she wasn't defenceless.
Melony moved in her arms.
And she wasn't alone.
They led her towards a basement flat, the driver walking after Wysley. Then she was shoved into a dark, dusty room with a moth-eaten mattress in one corner and a toilet in the other.
A cell.
Wysley turned her around and pulled off her glove. It was probably too dark for him to see the sharp points of her nails. He shoved her again, making her fall onto the mattress. The door closed with a bang, then a lock clicked into place.
"Let's wait another hour," Wysley said. "Let them worry. And then send that girl you hired with this and the ransom note. Tell her to tell them that it will be gloves first, and fingers next."
"You're asking for too much. They're not going to pay," said the driver. Lotte listened to the shuffling of their feet as they walked from her door. They weren't leaving the flat.
"You know how much she's worth? He'll just have her make him more."
"I don't like this..."
"You don't have to like this. You just have to do this and get rich."
"The exchange will get messy," said the driver. "They'll have constables stationed. We'll get ambushed. Too many places for this to go wrong. You want revenge? Take the money, kill the girl, skip town. That's my advice."
Wysley laughed. "How is that revenge?" Lotte heard his footsteps pacing the length of the other room. "If her paintings sell for this much now, do you know how much she'll be worth dead? Every piece will first triple, then quadruple and the ball will keep rolling every year as her story turns into a legend. If I were Henri Treebald, I'd wait for the opportune moment and kill her myself. She needs to age and outstay her welcome. Eventually these prodigies always disappoint."
The driver tsk'd in annoyance, but said nothing more.
Obviously, the other man rightly assumed Wysley was a lunatic.
Only Lotte could understand his logic.
She examined the small cell. There wasn't much she hadn't seen on first impression except for the tiny air-vent, about the size of her fist. She set Melody down on her feet and they both paced the length of the room together.
After about an hour, the driver left the flat and only Wysley remained.
After that, the sounds in the flat died down and Lotte got bored. She sat on the floor and drew in the dust to the red glow of her eyes.
There was an easy solution to Wysley's revenge. All he needed was to reveal to the world what she was. Her worth would plummet in the human-fuelled art industry. How could anyone compete with a child who had magic in her blood?
The fact that elves were never much artists to begin with wouldn't interest anyone. Mr. Henri always said that her art talent was the greatest proof that she had a prominent human half. That she could draw so beautifully while being only half human was even more remarkable.
Lotte looked at Melony who looked back at her, blinking her sparkling doll's eyes.
The world wouldn't see things in the same way Mr. Henri did.
Wysley didn't know Lotte was a Lotte. So, he couldn't use that.
Eventually, though, he was going to find out.
"Move against the wall," came Wysley's voice. Lotte huddled onto the mattress and closed her eyes to hide their glow.
He opened the door and turned on the light. He was carrying his gun in one hand, and his tray in the other.
He set the tray on the floor and kicked it towards her. There was a bun wrapped in plastic and a juice carton. She stared at him.
"Don't look at me like that," he spat. "Eyes down, or I'll shoot."
Lotte wanted to continue glaring at him, but she also needed him to think she was frightened, so she looked down.
"Listen, this isn't personal," he said. "Henri'll give me the money I deserve and you'll be back to being his show dog. You're being fed, no one's hitting you, so stop being an ungrateful little bitch."
Lotte held her tongue. She never used to have this problem. Once upon a time, silence was the only option.
Wysley turned off the light and slammed the door shut, locking it. After a moment, she heard his footsteps on the stairs and the rattle of keys when he locked the flat behind him.
Then, all was silent. She sat back onto the mattress.
Lotte's mind wandered as her finger shuffled through the dust on the floor. It calmed her mind just to draw lines and shapes without much meaning behind it. But, after some time, her finger moved with a firmer purpose, though her mind wasn't actually present.
She drew a flower in a flower in a flower in a flower.
She drew a diamond in the centre of the central flower.
She drew a star around the flowers.
And an octagram around the star.
And a fire surrounding everything.
There was silence in the flat.
Two locks in two doors clicked open.
Lotte picked up Melony and moved towards the door.