All for a Rose (25 page)

“And the episssodesss worsssened?”

“Terribly so. I don’t know if it was that one hard winter when food was scarce that scared her, or if there’s something about being out here in and of itself, but she’s nearly as bad now as she was before. Worse in some ways. Now she’s afraid to go outside most times. She complains more, she’s never happy, she…”

Daman was right. Maribel had used him as an excuse to leave, an excuse to leave Corrine behind because trying to keep her happy was becoming too…draining.

“Would being missstressssss of thisss manor have made her happy?”

“I don’t know.” The words were so quiet, so thin, they may as well have been echoes. There was no force behind them, no…certainty.

“Only when that trust is broken will we be free.”

The voice from her dream echoed back to her and Maribel clenched her hand into a fist around the rock she still held. The sharp edges cut into her palm, the pain helping her to think clearly, to chase away the guilt long enough to consider, really consider, what the serpent was asking. “I—”

“Maribel!”

Maribel dropped the rock and spun around, heart pounding as though she’d been caught committing some sort of crime. “Corrine?”

She scrambled to her feet, sliding on the stones wet from the splashing water and took off into the forest. The figure coming through the woods was dressed in a stunning green dress, silk, satin, and fine beads embroidered into the bodice. There was only one person who would wear such garments on a trek through the woods. As she looked on, the figure swayed and collapsed.

“Corrine? Corrine!” Maribel shrieked and ran faster. She fell to her knees, taking her sister’s limp hand in hers.

Her sister blinked, her head lolling from side to side where she lay on the ground. “Maribel. Maribel, I found you. I’m going to take you home…”

Her sister’s eyes rolled up into her head, her eyelids falling closed. Maribel’s heart leapt into her throat. She patted Corrine’s cheeks, trying to force some color into the pale skin, to get her blood flowing. “Corrine, wake up. Corrine!”

Her chest tightened as her sister remained unresponsive, the pulse at her neck thready. Corrine’s head lolled to the side as she laid her gently on the forest floor and stumbled to her feet. She raced back to the lake and half-fell onto the bank, shoving the end of her skirt into the water. When the material was thoroughly soaked, she lurched back to her feet and rushed to her sister. Water trickled down Corrine’s face as Maribel pressed the soaked edge of her skirt to her sister’s forehead. Her sister moaned and stirred. Maribel nearly fainted with relief as Corrine’s brown eyes blinked open.

“Maribel. Maribel, I found you. I’ll… I’ll take you…home.”

“Corrine, what on earth are you doing out here?” Maribel demanded, her voice faint with relief as Corrine’s eyes remained open. She raised her head and scanned the forest, searching for some sign of an escort. “Are you alone?”

Corrine winced. “Yes. I had to…get away.” She let out a deep breath and eased back against the ground, letting Maribel stroke her forehead. “Maribel, it’s awful. There are so many strangers crawling all over the place now. Did you know that Father’s building a new farmhouse? He never had any intention of moving back home.”

Maribel didn’t say anything to that. Part of her hoped that the reason her father was staying where he was had something to do with wanting to stay close to her. But even if that wasn’t the case, she knew that she and her father shared something in common—they had both come to like living out here.

Her father had never said anything, but Maribel had seen a marked difference in him. The stress of the import business—pirates, unpredictable weather, cutthroat merchants—had melted away from him as he’d worked the fields, haggled good-naturedly with friendly villagers who enjoyed bartering as a favorite means of social interaction. He and Maribel had shared that secret, along with the guilt of knowing that they were getting happier and happier while Corrine became more and more miserable.

Corrine grabbed her hand suddenly and Maribel jumped.

“Maribel, I want you to know I never forgot about you,” Corrine said seriously, locking her eyes on Maribel’s face. “Every day I tried to think of some way to save you, some way to force that…monster, to let you go.”

“He’s not a monster.”

Corrine jerked her hand back, a small tic twitching at her temple. “What do you mean he’s not a monster?”

Maribel blinked. “I… I just mean, he’s not all bad. He’s got a temper, yes, and he…” She trailed off, the world fading a bit around the edges as her mind wandered back to Daman.
He’s not a monster.

“He what?” Corrine demanded.

“I think he’s just been alone for a long time. He’s going through a lot, and he doesn’t have enough faith in himself—or others. But he’s trying to change.”

Corrine stared at her as though she’d lost her mind. Maribel understood how she felt. She herself was having a rather hard time understanding her feelings at the moment. She’d been so angry a few minutes ago, so ready to leave and say good riddance to Daman and his mood swings. But somehow, hearing Corrine call him a monster…
Oh, what is wrong with me?

She gave Corrine a reassuring smile. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me here.”

“Maribel, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I cannot leave you here.” She grasped both of Maribel’s hands in hers. “I’ve been talking to Mother Briar. The stories she’s told me… He’s done such horrible things.”

“No, no, Corrine,” Maribel hushed her. “He’s not horrible, he’s…very moody. But he’s also kind and—”

“He kidnaps changelings!”

Maribel jerked back, startled as Corrine surged forward to grab Maribel’s shoulder. She shook her so hard Maribel’s teeth rattled, sending a dull pain through her jaw. “Corrine,” she sputtered.

“I know it’s true. He… Maribel, he…” For a moment Corrine’s eyes glittered, her lower lip trembling. Then with a tiny sob, she burst into tears and collapsed against Maribel, burying her face in her shoulder. “Maribel, he kidnapped me.”

Maribel’s heart stopped, the entire world coming to a grinding, screeching halt. “What?”

“That day you had an accident in the field—you hit your head on the fence. Your blood was everywhere, even all over me. I helped Father get you cleaned up and into bed and I went back to my room. Before I could wash, he—” Another sob tore from her throat, punctuating her words. “He was suddenly there. He told me I had to come with him, that I didn’t belong with you and Father. He told me I was a changeling, and he was going to take me back to my real parents.”

Maribel shook her head, trying to process what her sister was saying. Her mouth had gone dry and she had a hard time swallowing. “But… But you’re…”

“Oh, Maribel, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to tell you, I never wanted you to think… You’re my sister, isn’t that all that matters? I love you.”

Maribel’s skin felt cold, clammy. “You were covered in my blood. He thought… He thought you were a changeling because…because I’m…?”

Corrine nodded, her face still buried in Maribel’s shoulder. “I never loved you any less,” she said fiercely.

“How did you get away?” Maribel’s head spun, making it difficult to concentrate. She groped for the end of her skirt, raising the still damp section to her own forehead to wipe away the sudden sweat there.

“I used a spell Mother Briar taught me,” Corrine sniffled, pulling away and wiping her eyes. “I was fighting him and he was trying to transform into a dragon. I tried to stop him, to hold him in human form.”

“You… You are the one who cursed him into the form he’s in now. You’re the reason he can’t go all the way back to one or the other.” Maribel leaned back, hand scrabbling at the ground for support. No, it couldn’t be true…

Corrine grabbed her hand, her grip so tight it was painful. “I didn’t mean to! I was trying to get away.”

An ache pulsed to life in Maribel’s temples, throbbing with every laborious beat of her heart. “No. No, that can’t be right. Even if he thought you were a changeling, he wouldn’t have forced you to leave Father and me. He wouldn’t have taken you from your home if you didn’t want to go. He’s not like that.”

“Then why did he take you? Why did he make you come stay with him when you didn’t want to be here?”

Maribel opened her mouth to respond then closed it. She couldn’t argue that Daman had forced her to come here, that he would have forced their father to stay if she hadn’t. But how could she explain his true intentions to her sister without frightening her? Maribel carefully avoided looking back at the manor, suddenly very nervous about the possibility that Daman may know Corrine was here.

“I… I think he’s lonely,” Maribel said weakly, kicking herself even as she lied. She pasted another smile on her face, hoping it didn’t look as brittle as it felt. “Corrine, I’m fine here, really. Go back home, tell Father I’m all right.”

“He wouldn’t be lonely if he hadn’t killed everyone else in the manor,” Corrine snapped. “And I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“He didn’t kill everyone, Corrine, he sent them away.” Maribel pulled her hand out of her sister’s grasp. “Being trapped in the form he’s in makes it hard for him to control his temper, and he was worried that he might hurt someone.”

“But he doesn’t care if he hurts you?” Corrine demanded incredulously.

Maribel pursed her lips. “He wouldn’t hurt me. If he thought he was a danger to me, he’d send me away too. He’s lonely, and he wants to try being around someone. He’s told me about his meditation, about how hard he’s been trying to deal with the temper being trapped in this form gives him.”

“So you’re saying it’s all my fault.” Corrine looked down at her skirt, swiped violently at the dirt clinging to the fabric.

“No, it’s not your fault.” Maribel grabbed a lock of her hair and twisted it around her finger, tugging as if she could distract herself from the mounting frustration inside her. “You were frightened, you did what you had to do to protect yourself. I’m only saying, it was all a misunderstanding.”

Corrine narrowed her eyes and remained silent for an agonizingly long second. Then she nodded once, firmly. “All right then. Take me up to the manor. Let me see for myself how badly I’ve misjudged him, how wrong the stories are.”

The blood drained from Maribel’s face, leaving her cheeks cold.

“Sshe’ss the one who wass ssuppossed to come here. Sshe would have removed her cursse from me, or elsse I would have finally had my revenge.”

“What’s the matter?” Corrine held Maribel’s gaze as she struggled to her feet, swaying a little before squaring her shoulders. “Let’s go talk with the lonely lord. Unless of course there’s some reason you think that would be a bad idea?”

Maribel pursed her lips but didn’t say anything.

“See?” Corrine jabbed a finger at Maribel. “You know he’s a monster. Deep down, you know.” She tugged on Maribel’s arm. “Come home with me.”

“No.” Maribel faced Corrine, putting her determination in her face and stance. “No, I do have faith in him. He’s not a bad man, and he wouldn’t hurt you, not now that he knows how much you mean to me.” Heat pulsed in her head, a warning that bringing Corrine to Daman was a mistake, that it would be pushing him too far. He was so angry already.

He is a good man. I know he is.

“Corrine?” she asked slowly.

“What?”

“Can you undo what you did? Lift the spell so he can shift form again?”

Corrine opened her mouth, then closed it. The skin around her eyes tightened and she wouldn’t meet Maribel’s eyes. “I don’t know.” She snapped a twig off an overhanging tree branch. “My powers aren’t that strong…”

“Will you try?” Maribel asked, trying to keep her voice calm despite a flash of irritation.
What, does magic require too much effort as well as farm work?

Corrine stared down at the twig as she turned it over in her hands. “Maribel…do you like him?”

“Do I…” Maribel dropped her gaze to the ground, trailing a finger through the dirt and fallen leaves. Her stomach flip-flopped in a strange and not altogether unpleasant manner. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I think you do.”

There was no accusation in Corrine’s tone, no underlying heat. In fact, she sounded oddly detached. Maribel didn’t look up, focused on the ground, the small sticks and stones scattered around her. 

“Does he like you back?” Corrine pressed quietly.

Part of Maribel desperately wanted to confide in her sister. After all, wasn’t this what sisters were for? Hadn’t Corrine always been her confidant, the one she came to with everything? Well, until they’d moved to the farm. Until Maribel had emotions she had to hide from Corrine, emotions that would have only upset her.

She’s not really your sister.

Maribel crushed that thought as soon as she had it. Corrine was her sister, in every way that mattered.

“Talk to me,” Corrine prodded. She settled down on the ground next to Maribel and put a hand on her knee. “Please.”

Maribel cleared her throat and started arranging some tiny pebbles in a circle. “I think he does. But…” She hesitated. “It just feels like there’s too much between us. Too many misunderstandings.”

“You mean about me.”

“That’s part of it,” Maribel admitted. “I didn’t believe you were capable of something like that. I didn’t trust him when he told me it was you.”

The twig snapped in Corrine’s grasp and Maribel pulled her attention away from her pebble circle. “Are you okay?”

Corrine’s smile was strained, but she looked away before Maribel could analyze her expression further. Corrine grabbed her bag where she’d dropped it and pushed herself to her feet.

“Well, misunderstandings are a problem. If you like him, and he likes you, then you need to clear the air.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ll try to lift the spell.” She dropped the pieces of the twig and started to brush her hand off on her skirt. She stopped with her fingers above the velvety material, then noticed that it was already filthy from her earlier fall. She pressed her lips into a thin line and brushed her hand off.