Page 44 of Wickedly Ever After (A Fairy Tale Romp, #1)
Ida
Those who seem to have the largest hearts often just have a big hole in their chest, while those who seem to have no heart often have the biggest hearts of all. They’ve simply hidden them away against those who would steal them for their own.
Magic and Mischief—A Thousand Years of Happily-Ever-After: A Memoir
Ida North
Ida had slept in many places over her centuries of travel: posh hotels, enchanted forests in glamping tents, gnome homes, dwarf mansions, elvish tree houses, even in a farmhouse one night when her carriage broke down. All of them had some redeeming quality.
Not this place.
Never had a hostel felt more hostile, starting with the skeleton she subdued when it popped out of her closet and tried to confine her in an elaborate ballgown made of blue satin with a million golden flounces.
“The audacity,” she complained to Hari, shutting the last of the angry bones in the chest of drawers in the corner. “Now, let me tend to your hand.”
“It’s fine,” Hari said. “Tinbit dressed it. He’s very good. You should’ve seen how he took care of the pony, and it tried to kick the snot out of him too.”
Ida placed the pouting skull on the dresser and lectured it. “You’ll get your spine back in the morning if you behave yourself. I agree, he’s good, but the thorn was poisonous, like everything else in this part of the world. Let me see it.”
Hari unwrapped his hand. The puncture wound barely oozed, and a fresh smell of sage and the bitter reek of goldenseal soaked the bandage. No doubt about it, Tinbit knew his herbs and poultices. She rewrapped it, adding a healing blessing.
“I wish I could’ve talked you into going home,” she said when she finished. “This is my fault.”
Hari laughed hollowly. “What’s your fault?”
“You’re more in love with him today than you were yesterday.”
“Well, I have news for you,” Hari said, getting up and going to unpack her valise. “It’s absolutely not your fault this time.”
“The magic—”
“Happily-Ever-After magic be damned. I liked Tinbit before I even met him, and I’m going to love him whether I want to or not, even if it’s doomed.”
“I won’t hold you back,” Ida reminded him. “If you want to be with him—”
“We’ve been through that.” Hari took out her nightgown and laid it out on the bed for her. “Do you want a cup of tea from the kitchen tonight, or do you want to brew it here in the fireplace?”
“Here, I think,” Ida said. “I don’t want to see that obnoxious ghoul any more than I must.”
“Who’s an obnoxious ghoul?” Sebastian’s head popped through the floor at Hari’s feet. “Is it me? Please say yes.”
Ida yanked her dressing gown around herself and glared at the head. “Is this how you treat all your guests?”
“No, dear lady,” Sebastian said, bowing in midair.
“I’m much more horrible, I assure you. I beg your apology for the intrusion, and I know it’s late, but I’ve a business proposition for your ears, Your Goodness, and your ears only.
Toddle off to the kitchen, you dutiful little gnome.
I’m going to be a while here, so there’s no rush on the cuppa.
Why don’t you send a skeleton to tell your dearly beloved Tinbit the pony is having a bellyache, and when he comes running, suck him dry in a quiet stall? It works for the vampires.”
“Ida—” Hari protested.
“It’s all right,” Ida said. “I’m sure this won’t take long.”
Hari left, not without an angry backward glance at Sebastian’s grinning skull.
Ida turned to him. “What do you want?”
Sebastian coaxed his body over with a click of his tongue. The body came over, carrying a box, and handed it to Ida. “Present for you.”
Ida narrowed her eyes at him. “What horrible, terrifying thing is in there? A large spider? A vampire bat? A thousand trapped souls screaming in torment?”
“Far worse.” Sebastian giggled. “Go ahead. Open it. You’re probably the only one who can handle it, really.”
She did. Carefully. “Gods!”
“Not quite,” Sebastian said. “Just the dirty old heart of a man who can’t bear it anymore.”
Ida stared at it in shock. She’d thought Hector as heartless as any witch should be. He’d kept it. All through the centuries, he’d kept it, just like she had. She took out the heart reverently, dirt and all, and set it in her lap.
“Interesting, isn’t it?” Sebastian’s hollow eyes glinted. “That old softie. Some people don’t know what’s good for them. And they’re so rich in iron. I was going to sauté it up with some onions and thyme, but I could be persuaded to part with it—for the right price.”
“I make a point to not buy organ meat of dubious origin, and you should be more careful too. I’d suggest you return this to the witch you took it from before it poisons you.”
“That’s out of the question,” Sebastian said. “Have you ever woken him up once he’s gone to bed at dusk like a good little morning lark? He’s liable to turn me into stone.”
It was a much larger heart than she’d expected, glistening, red, beating softly beneath her fingers. “He sold it to you?”
“Gave it to me in exchange for the rooms. I believe he was glad to be rid of it. Of course, I never would’ve made the trade if I’d not had a buyer for it.
” He pulled up a chair and sat, setting his feet on the coffee table, one at a time.
“As you might imagine, good magic in this part of the world is hard to find. Hector can’t do good to save his life.
I can make a tidy profit selling bootleg good magic.
How about it? You get the heart and I get a few canned spells for love and money. ”
She covered the heart in the folds of her nightgown. “Love and money?”
Sebastian grinned. “Think pleasure instead of love. It’s an easier sell.”
“Pleasure, you say?”
“We get quite a few questing knights through here, and they like to cut loose when they are in dragon country. A few lovely virgins who dissolve into mist in the morning would be perfect.”
She ought to sew up his mouth and box his ears. “And when would you want these spells?”
“Ah, ah! Payment due on receipt of goods delivered. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”
Well, she certainly wouldn’t leave it. Hector, you fool . You really need to do a better job of vetting your hard-luck cases . “Very well. One heart for four pleasure spells. I’ll have them made for you by morning.”
“Five.”
“Four,” Ida said.
“I won’t take less than five.”
“Perhaps you can sell it to the next good witch who comes to stay at your hostel. I’m sure you get so many here.”
“Ha!” Sebastian grinned so wide, he split his skull. He held the jaw and moved it with his hands to finish his sentence. “You drive a hard bargain, Your Goodness. But I think I hear your gnome gnashing his teeth outside the door, so I’ll take it. I keep the heart until I’m satisfied.”
“Hector’s heart stays with me, or you’ll find your pleasure spells won’t work.”
“My dear woman, you are a formidable negotiator, but I’m sure I could find a wicked witch who’d love this heart—roasted, on a spit. Agatha East, perhaps?”
“I wonder how much salt it takes to melt a ghoul.” She leaned forward, hissing through her teeth. “I’ve always wanted to find out.”
“Fine.” Sebastian stuck the first cervical vertebral body out of his mouth like a tongue. “Keep the blasted thing. But I want those spells first thing in the morning.” He rose and carried his head out of the room.
Ida breathed a sigh of relief. “You can come in now, Hari,” she said.
Hari did, slamming the door behind him. “Ugh. He spilled his guts in front of me, anus first.” He shuddered. “Gross. I hope you didn’t give him what he wanted.”
Ida dusted the fragments of earth from Hector’s heart.
“I gave him what he deserved.” For the most part, it seemed as if she’d been wrong about Hector and his people.
Now that she’d met them, she felt she’d misjudged their hearts and Hector’s too.
But this ghoul! It looked like Hector actually did have one truly evil creature in his employ.
It was oddly satisfying to think she was the one who got to dispense a fitting punishment.
But for now, she needed to find a safe place for Hector’s heart.
She thought of her own heart tucked safely away under her bed at home.
That would’ve been the best place to keep Hector’s heart—locked away with hers, where nothing could touch it.
But hearts weren’t books. A witch couldn’t send a heart across time and space—anything might happen to it.
There was only one thing for it, only one place it would be safe no matter what happened.
She put it in her chest.