Page 54

EVERY HOUSE SHOULD HAVE ONE

A pfela, obviously, took charge of the orchard. Nissa refused to lie abed and instead sat next to the stream, dangling one hand in the gentle current. The only reason Gisele didn’t protest was that the contact with the water did actually appear to be helping her.

“Why don’t you give the cut flowers to the house?” she asked after Gisele ruthlessly trimmed back an enormous dahlia that was encroaching on a nearby path. Nissa held out her hands. “I can arrange them.”

Since this was a task that could be done while seated and also the first time Nissa had offered to help without an elaborate system of debts involved, Gisele could hardly refuse, but she worried about the girl nonetheless. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

Nissa rolled her eyes. “Like a syphon-hound tried to bite off my leg—how do you think?” When Gisele hesitated, mid-handover, Nissa made an impatient hiss and snatched the disorganised bundle of flowers from her arms. “No one appointed you my mother. Stop fussing and go make eyes at your besotted cat-boy. It’s more entertaining, at least.”

Gisele fumbled for a response, flustered even though she knew that had been Nissa’s exact intention. The nixe girl grinned sharply at her, ready for battle, so in the end Gisele merely reminded Nissa not to overdo it and went to fetch a suitable vase for her.

She could feel Skymallow humming happily to itself as they worked. It liked the activity and the increase in the number of people within its bounds. The house felt more alive than ever, and each time she ventured inside, she was certain that the cracks were getting smaller.

Gisele found Nissa a succession of vessels to use as vases when the standard ones ran out, ferrying each one carefully back inside.

Nissa could fill the entire house with flowers if it kept her reasonably stationary and out of trouble.

Besides, Skymallow seemed to appreciate the gesture, rotating each vase in turn as it was set down, like a housekeeper fussing with replacing ornaments on a mantelpiece.

Mal came to stand beside her. “I don’t know why it never occurred to me to give it flowers. It looks as if it were always missing such a thing. I think it even prefers this to excessive amounts of gold leaf, which is saying something.”

Gisele would have suspected he was trying to make her feel better about the loss of his gold magic except that she could feel Skymallow too and the house did seem enamoured.

Or perhaps that was only Mal’s proximity, every nerve ending tightly aware of how small the distance was between them. She wanted to touch him and simultaneously didn’t want to reveal how much. They hadn’t really discussed how matters lay between them now.

Whether there’s anything more than physical lust between you, you mean. Whether you can even know that, with all the magic tangling you up in each other.

It was a relief nonetheless when he casually took her hand and twined his fingers with hers.

“It’ll be wanting a subscription to florists’ magazines next,” she said, making him laugh.

They both felt the shift in the house, like a flight of bees taking off in the distance.

Mal’s eyes widened.

“Is that…?” Gisele asked.

“Only one way to find out.” He didn’t drop her hand as they made their way up to the budding hallway. From the new door gleamed an old-fashioned doorhandle.

“Will you do the honours?” he asked her.

She was touched. “Together. It’s your house.”

They turned the knob. The door opened slowly, revealing the room beyond.

It was small and octagonal, with long glass windows.

The roots of a tree emerged from the centre of the ceiling and grew down each join all the way to the floor, as if the walls were being held in the tree’s grip.

It lay empty but for a central plinth, on which rested a solid sphere of crystal.

“Is that… what it looks like?” she asked in disbelief. It held shifting smoke, like the contained heart of a storm, and Gisele felt Mal’s jolt of excitement.

“A crystal ball,” he said, drawing closer to inspect it. “I’ve never seen one in person before. Oh, Skymallow, you have outdone yourself.”

“Those are real ? I mean, crystal balls actually work?”

He blinked. “Yes? Well, not universally. But this one is house-locked, so it ought to work for me. In theory, a crystal ball should show a heart’s desire. Don’t think I’m not aware of the irony.”

He peered into it, but the ball showed nothing but a fragmented version of their reflections.

“It might need more direction.” Mal removed his hand from hers.

There was a flash of a claw, and a single drop of blood fell from his finger before she could protest. Instead of falling upon the crystal’s surface, the blood absorbed into it, and the swirling mists glowed red. “Show me what happened to my name.”

The smoke began to whirl faster, colours running together. A picture began to form, of a tree within a walled garden.

It was a shock to recognise this unfamiliar version of her own garden back in Isshia, with this tree that no longer stood there and her tower absent.

She stiffened as a figure came into sight: Malediction, a different version to the one she knew.

He had two gold eyes, and he wasn’t simply younger but…

brighter? It was hard to put her finger on it, but it was as if someone had taken the Mal she knew and subtly changed the contours of his face, sharpening him, rendering him in stronger colours.

It unsettled her. She didn’t know this Malediction at all.

This young, strange version of Malediction leaned closer to the tree, whispering, though the image in the crystal ball had no sound. From his mouth, something sparkling gold and bright emerged. Malediction gathered it into an orb, compressing it between his palms.

His true name , she thought, fascinated.

Apparently satisfied, Malediction pressed the orb into the tree, which immediately gained an extra degree of vitality.

The man beside it, by contrast, was lessened.

This version of Mal was the one she knew, with a slight air of weariness upon his shoulders, his loose curls not so red as they had been a few moments ago.

Mal left, and the tree remained, its leaves a vibrant green, its bark a rich, strong brown.

Time sped up, the sun tracing its path behind the tree’s strong branches.

Days came and went, the tree’s boughs swaying in wind and rain.

Birds came to nest in its branches, and squirrels ran up its trunk.

Subtle shimmers of gold shifted between its leaves, hinting at the power it held safe.

Then came a great storm. Lightning flashed. The tree’s branches shook violently in the wind.

Mal gripped the rim of the plinth so tightly his knuckles were white. Gisele, too, couldn’t tear her gaze away, knowing what came next.

The storm’s intensity grew, until at last, with a blinding flash, a bolt struck the great trunk.

There was still no sound, but Gisele could imagine the deafening crack.

Within the white of the lightning, the gold spark of Mal’s name burned.

The light faded. The tree had split, setting the golden sparks free, and they took to the air and swirled in the wind around the ruined trunk.

The crystal ball’s view began to shift away from the tree, following the golden sparks as they tossed on the wind’s currents.

Eventually, the storm faded and the wind became a gentle morning breeze, caressing the towers of the palace.

The first brave bird began to sing, sucking in the golden light to support its trill.

Just like the tree, an extra vitality imbued the bird, its feathers sparkling in the sunlight.

It sang, and for a moment it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

“A bird has my name,” Mal breathed, but the crystal ball wasn’t done.

With a flash of ginger fur, the song came to a crashing halt in a puff of violent feathers. A cat stalked into view, carrying its broken prey with the smug satisfaction of all cats after a successful hunt. It was a very familiar cat.

The ball went dark.

They exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“Zingiber,” Mal said grimly.

They found the orange cat on a rock beneath one of the bridges, tail switching as he watched the fish. Water splashed as a paw lashed out, but the fish darted out of his reach.

“Zingiber!” Mal said sharply. “I told you not to attack the fish.”

Zingiber turned lazily towards them. The fish are fine; settle your fur.

“What would you even do if you caught one?” Gisele pointed out. “They’re as big as you are!”

Zingiber smiled. Find out .

Now that she knew to look for it, she could see that there was an extra vitality to the cat, a subtle boost in saturation that made him seem more alive than his surroundings, like a living piece of sunlight.

“Zingiber, I need you to tell me why you came to Skymallow. There’s fish in it for you.” Mal settled down on his haunches next to the rock.

Zingiber began to wash his bib. I came here on my own four paws. Stayed for the good hunting, free food, soft beds. A cat can put up with a lot for that. Even hideous fae.

“Were you an ordinary cat in Isshia before you came here?” Gisele asked him. “Living in a palace, with humans like me?”

I have never been ordinary , Zingiber told them primly.

“Different to how you are now, then,” Gisele amended.

Zingiber curled his tail around himself and thought. I was different, before I came here , he eventually allowed. Could only talk to those who knew the language of cats, before. Don’t know what the humans called it. Lots of humans, lots of buildings. Bigger than this house.

“ Do you remember catching a bird?”

The look this time was contemptuous. Have caught a lot of birds.

“This one would have been different. It’s what would have changed you into something different, back when you”—Mal grimaced—“ate it. It had my name in it, you terrible feline. Do you remember?”