Secrets We Keep: Chapter Sixteen

Credence returned to the field with John.

Ajo was waiting, concern painted on his face, like he was steeling himself for the brunt of Credence's anger.

"The wolf has a way with words," Credence said curtly. "It's time to hear yours."

She looked at John and the wolf turned to depart. Credence watched him leave, and it was only when John became a dot in the distance that she looked back at Ajo.

"I never meant—" Ajo began but Credence held her hand up.

"I don't need an explanation. What do you intend to do about it?"

Ajo's eyes narrowed.

"I've seen enough blood," she continued. "I will have peace. It will take time to earn the love and trust of your subjects. But that is what you will do."

He studied her face, calculating his answer.

"And you will admit that mercy is not always the correct path," he countered. "Dark and light are mutual. You cannot have one, but must have both. You will cease clinging to this notion of complete innocence. Even Galeia did not adhere to it."

"All right. Balance then."

"You accept it?"

"I understand it. Do you?"

"More than you may ever know."  His tone shifted into calmer territory. "How will I earn the love of my subjects?"

"Treat them the way you treat me," she replied. "With patience and civility."

"I treat you that way because I love you."

"You must love them, too."

"They believe I am a villain."

"And what reason have you given them to think otherwise? Show them you aren't. What Lilith did—"

"It doesn't matter what she did. She's dead."

"Let her death be the end of the Collector then," Credence pressed. "You should release the Queen from her imprisonment as a show of good intent." Ajo raised an eyebrow but gave no argument. "Let her live in her kingdom. Not as its queen, but as someone who can help you. As your mother."

"And what of treason in my kingdom? How should those who wish me harm be dealt with? Tell me how a queen would do it."

"Cease these needless killings. Even if they are traitors. I don't care if they arrive before you filled with fire and hatred. John should bring them to you and you should listen to their concerns."

"Bring them to me? Or to us?" Credence would not answer him, would not give him the satisfaction of hope. "And if they still seek rebellion after I hear them, what then?"

"Then they will be dealt with accordingly."

"Not a single day spent in lessons on ruling," he said, "but you already know the language of a sovereign."

Before she could stop herself Credence answered, "Some say I was born to it."

Ajo nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. It was the kind of look that could make Credence weak in the knees, but she stood her ground.

"But I also know what marriage should look like. I saw it with my parents. They were equals. You told me that was you wanted, too." She paused. "I need to learn proper magic. Not flowers and sparks."

"I could teach you how to call storms and—"

"No. I don't want the pretty, simple things. I want to learn how to fight. How to understand the magic within me. I want to know what I did that night in the woods when I brought you down."

Ajo regarded her carefully. "You want to learn how to fight me."

He expected her to become defensive but she nodded.

"I want protection against anyone who threatens my happiness. Including you."

After a moment of consideration, Ajo answered, "It would be my honor to teach you."

"I already have a spell in mind."

Ajo remained silent as Credence brought forth Ma's book and turned to a page that was half torn away.

"I will learn this one first."

She handed the book to Ajo, who accepted it with slight hesitance. His eyes scanned the writing.

"I threatened John with it once and saw fear in his eyes at the mere mention of its name."

"The Soul Bind," Ajo muttered. To her surprise, he smiled. "You intend to use this spell on me?"

"If I must," Credence answered, trying to appear stern but confused by the giddiness in his eyes.

"Oh, but it's my deepest wish that you do."

"What do you mean? This is a terrible thing. Ma wrote that it could destroy everything."

"I suppose, at the time she wrote this, Galeia felt that way. But she used it all the same."

"On you?"

"On your father."

Ajo handed Ma's book back, but when Credence reached for it he took her hand.

"What do you think the Soul Bind would do?" he asked.

"I thought...it would destroy an enemy's soul."

"The Soul Bind is not an act of attack. It's a spell of love." His finger traced over hers. "The purpose is to create one from two. It's the greatest show of passion one can perform, for in the act the pair gives a part of their soul to the other. It's what made Galeia mortal, when she combined hers with a human."

He let go of her hand.

"It cannot be severed," he continued. "Once completed, it is as much a part of you as your blood. My life would be yours, and yours would be mine. Irrevocably."

"But—wouldn't that mean that you would become mortal?"

"You are only half mortal, Credence. Combined with me, it would most likely prove the opposite. You would become immortal."

An immortal life, Credence thought with a shiver. With Ajo.

"I lament in telling you that I cannot teach it," Ajo said. "The spell was lost, and the only one who could produce such magic again is the one who created it. But she remains defiant."

"Your mother?"

"She alone knows the secret of it."

"Perhaps...I could ask her."

Ajo's eyes glittered with joy. "I do not mean to command anything of you...but that is precisely the conclusion I hoped you would come to."

"You want to share such a thing with me?"

"I want to prove my devotion. I told you once that if we married you would be free to leave, but there would be a pain that called you back to me. It's the pain of the soul that I spoke of, so tremendous it cannot be denied. I would have a piece of your life, and you would have a piece of mine. This is the power of the Soul Bind, and I would be overjoyed if we recited it. But you must know that it is not just a promise, it's a sacrifice. You should fully understand the intention behind it."

"My life and yours...entwined."

"What happens to one would be promised to the other." His gaze fell to the ground and shame took hold of him. "Your father was able to hold off the demon within him for so long because he was touched by Galeia's power. And it's why Galeia knew that after her husband died, it was only a matter of time before she joined him."

Credence's hand went to her mouth and she shook her head.

Ma knew she was going to die. So she sent her children away.

The moment she ended Pa's life she knew...

We were always going to be left alone.

Wind ran over them, chilling her skin into goose pimples. There was so much she was still naïve about, and no matter how confident she felt, she would always be one step behind the truth.

Credence's breath quickened, coming out in stifled pants. An overwhelming sense of doom wrapped around her, and Credence believed she would choke on her fear. It was too much. Everything was too much. Ajo said something to her, but his voice was muffled behind the blood pounding in her ears.

"I need...to sit down," she whispered.

Her body swayed as her breath became ragged and her chest tightened. "I n-need...water..."

She fell forward, taken under a faint.

Ajo caught her in his arms.

***

Credence woke to an unrecognizable view.

She was laid upon a grand bed, sinking into a downy mattress. The flames of several candles lit her surroundings dimly, revealing the barest hint of stone walls and tapestries.

Ajo's castle. She was in a room within it.

Ajo must have moved her, though she had no memory of leaving the field. She was alone, but had an uneasy suspicion someone was nearby.

Was this Ajo's room?

No, she decided. He would not be so bold or improper. This room felt long unlived in, with a whisper of dust in its scent, and a staleness that only settled over a place if nothing moved in it for a lengthy period.

She thought to close her eyes and fall back to sleep, so that she might wake somewhere familiar, but decided that would be the cowardly thing to do. She rose from the bed, a humorously difficult task given how deep her body had sunken into the mattress, and stretched her arms and legs.

Her stomach grumbled with a faint hunger. She wondered if John would know where to look for her when dinner arrived, or if she was supposed to find her way to the dining hall alone. There were two doors for her to choose from, so she made her best guess and opened the nearest one to make her way out.

It was the wrong door, but behind it lay a pleasant surprise.

Between two standing candelabras was a tub of white stone, filled to the brim with water. Dozens of flower petals floated inside, and their perfume lifted with the steam of the warm water.

Next to the tub was a high-backed cushioned chair, a thing of opulence, and on its seat was a folded cloth for drying and a bristled brush. Laying across the back of the chair was the purple gown Ajo had gifted her, and on the floor sat an elegant pair of satin slippers.

Credence could not resist the temptation and removed her clothing before slipping into the bath. What a balm its warmth was to her body! It eased the tension in her muscles, coaxing her into a state of calm, while the fragrance of the flowers soothed her mind.

She closed her eyes and laid her head on the lip, letting her body fall and rise in gentle floatation. She listened to the rhythm of her breathing, occasionally interrupted by the tiny clink of the golden chain on her ankle hitting the floor of the tub.

Her thoughts drifted away from Ajo and the Queen, from Ma and magic, from everything that held her in a state of confusion and sorrow. In that release, she found the freedom to simply let things be.

It didn't matter what was expected of her. It didn't matter what she thought or what course of action she would take. As it had been in childhood, it was so much easier to let the world descend upon her, without any desire to shape its future.

This is what it should always be like, she thought. I should surrender.

To what?

To whatever may—

The sound of tearing interrupted her peace. She opened her eyes and sat up, covering herself with her arms. The noise stopped for a few seconds, then began again in earnest.

"Who's there?" Credence squeaked. Was it time for dinner? "John?"

At her voice, the tearing ceased.

Thinking it must have been a trick of her mind, she closed her eyes, desiring to fall back into the embrace of acquiescence—but the second her eyelids shut the tearing began again, more loud and vigorous than before. Credence leaned over edge of the tub and squinted, trying to spot the intruder in the dim light.

"You're ruining my peace," she snapped. "Show yourself."

In the corner of her eye she caught a flash of movement from one of the tapestries rustling against the wall. She turned to it and saw a slender body descending the drapery, tearing gaping holes through the fabric with its claws on the way down. Its black and white fur shimmered under the candlelight, enhancing its sleekness. It leapt onto the floor and planted itself a few feet away from the tub.

It stared at Credence with a bored expression.

A cat.

No, not just a cat, but the cat. The one that helped her break the spell of John's cabin.

"You're not under any enchantment this time," it observed.

"No, I'm not."

"Why are you here then? Don't tell me you choose to be?"

"I was brought here as a prisoner."

"Don't see any chains on you. Except the one around your leg."

How could the animal have spied it?

"It's a gift," Credence said and cupped water in her hands to pour over her shoulders.

"Sure it is," came the unconvincing reply.

"You don't have to be chained to be a captive," Credence said. "Or under a spell."

"But it helps." The cat winked. "Odd sort of prison. There's no locks."

"It's not a prison anymore. I'm free to leave, but I've chosen to stay for the time being."

She rose out of the bath and grabbed the cloth from the chair to dry herself. The cat watched her through narrowed eyes.

"You're afraid of his anger," it observed.

"Well—no."

"You've resigned yourself to surrender."

"It's not like that."

"It's just easier to make him happy."

"He makes me happy, too."

The cat laughed at her. "Oh yes, I imagine that chain was such a delight to receive! He wanted you under his thumb, and you got a bit of string in return."

Credence grit her teeth. "What he wants is for me to marry him and become a queen. I haven't given him that."

"Oooh, how delicious that innocence is! You are a treat, child."

"I'm not a child."

Something stung her conscience when she said it.

"I'll say you aren't," the cat chuckled and looked pointedly at her body. "More's the pity. A child is the only thing that's got any sense around here."

"You came to tell me that?"

"I was just passing the time. And I wanted to see how you spent the last years of your nonage."

"What does that mean?"

"Did you not notice how long you've been kept? You're not the child who stumbled into the woods and cowered around a fire, afraid the dark. Now you are the woman who dines with it."

"I know I've changed," Credence snapped. "I know I've grown up. If you think I'll be insulted by that fact, you're wrong."

"And it doesn't bother you that you've been a prisoner for so long? That the last of your childhood was taken from you?" The cat snorted. "It would bother me quite a bit to learn I'd been locked away for all of my adult life. I'd be beside myself in mourning."

"Maybe I'm stronger."

"Or more submissive. Try journeying beyond his world, and see if you like what you find there."

"What do you mean?"

"Time and movement. Fast and slow. Everything and nothing. You've aged in this kingdom of purple, true—but the woods outside of it have grown up so much quicker. You think it's been weeks since you first arrived? Months? Try years, little thing. Try decades."

"I've not been here that long."

"You haven't...and you have. Your body certainly agrees with one side, but the real world lives by nature's rule. Good luck understanding it."

As she dried herself, Credence glanced at her arm. The marred skin symbol, which had once been a bundle of raised, pinkish scars, had sunken in and been drained of its color.

Now it had faded into almost nothing, a forgotten wound.

Credence wrapped the cloth around her body and picked up the brush. She sat in the chair and ran the bristles through her hair, a task that proved uncomfortable given the amount of time that had passed between brushes, and the knots and nests that had tangled there in the meantime.

"How did you slip in," Credence asked. "I've seen no one—nothing else in this world."

"I go where I want. No one stops me. No one would dare."

"You could show me the way out."

"I could."

But I won't, was the implied end. "I want to see what decision you'll make."

"You don't already know? I thought you were a god."

"You mortals still have the capacity to surprise me. But I have my guess."

"You think I'm going to marry him?"

"Think, know, what's the difference?"

"I could destroy him."

"There is another path."

"You're right. I could save him."

"Oh, yes. You could do that. But there is still another you haven't considered."

"What is it?"

"You could die."

Credence frowned. "You're not very pleasant company, you know."

"I thought it was quite humorous."

"And you won't help me?"

"Help you with what?"

Credence sighed in frustration but the cat didn't care.

"I already helped you once," it said. "Most don't even get that. You'll come to nowhere good in life if you think someone is always going to save you."

The cat flexed its paws and sharp claws spread out before quickly retracting.

"I thought this looked like the perfect spot for a nap. Did you know that when I sleep it rains? Every time."

"I doubt that."

"You doubt so much. You doubt yourself."

The cat yawned and blinked at her slowly.

"I made the world, you know," it bragged. "There's not a single branch or patch of dirt I didn't place with my own paw."

"Ajo made this world."

"It still sits inside of mine. I allow this...little dalliance...because I don't care to chase him away. He does seem terribly devoted to you, though."

"He loves me."

"Does he? I thought it was Galeia who held his heart."

Bitter jealousy came to Credence, and without thinking or comprehending her intention, she snapped at the cat.

"She's dead. He loves me."

"She is gone, yes. And who's hand dealt the blow?" It was a fierce question, asked in a hiss. "What an odd thing you are, to sit and cackle with the one who killed your own. To believe he loves you after all he's taken from you."

The cat's words bit at Credence's resolve, replacing her anger with sharp guilt.

"He loved Galeia more than his own life," the cat added.

"He thought he did, but he was mistaken. He knows that."

Credence had finally smoothed her hair enough to twist it into a braid. She tried her best to tuck the braid higher onto her head to reveal her neck, and carefully pulled a few stray curls to settle around her face and shoulders.

"How easily you flicker in your emotions," the cat said while studying her. "Sometimes you hate him, sometimes not so much. You think love is the highest of all, and yet here you would give proof that it means absolutely nothing."

"What does that mean?"

"You didn't see how passionately devoted he was to her. Have you ever stopped to consider that...if things had been different...you would have been his daughter?"

Credence winced at the thought.

"But maybe you're right," the cat said, "and it wasn't true love he felt for Galeia after all, if it can be lifted from her and transferred to another."

"They made a vow and he gave his heart to me."

"So he chased a child through the woods—"

"He was upholding a promise."

"And that thought comforts you?" The cat clucked its tongue. "He just decided he was going to love you."

"No. He never knew what love really was until—."

"He met you?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I see." The cat's tone implied it didn't believe a word of it. It had been cleaning its paw but stopped when Credence stood from the chair to dress herself.

She looked back and forth between the gown and her clothes, caught in a standstill.

"Which one will it be," the cat remarked, voicing Credence's hesitation. "The gift of the man who desires your future, or the solace of what's familiar? Decisions, decisions. Of course, either choice is a declaration. Choose the dress, and you're announcing your intention to step forward. Choose the other, and cling to that last bit of innocence."

"Are those my only options?"

"Oh no," the cat said coyly. "You could always leave naked. Oh, do try that, and let's see what befalls you."

Ignoring the feline's cheek, Credence took the gown from the chair. The weight was hefty, but the glitter of its black gems enticed her. She dropped the cloth from her body and stepped into the gown, pulling it past her hips and closing the clasp over the back of her neck.

The cat gave a low murmur of approval.

"If only you could see yourself," it said. "You do look rather becoming. I suppose you'll have to trust that you look every inch a princess—no, a queen."

Credence smiled at the compliment.

"Why would Ajo lie to me," she asked and motioned to the gown. "Why make all this effort?"

"Why do children play games? Why does a predator allow its prey a bit of a chase?"

"I shouldn't trust a single word from you. You helped me once, but it's obvious you had no intention beyond your own entertainment."

"Ah, you do understand." The cat flopped onto its side. "Come pet me."

Useless animal, Credence thought and shook her head. She sat on the chair and pulled the slippers onto her feet.

"Ajo has shown me he has the capacity for love and kindness. And I am the first to see it. I'm the only one who can understand, he said. He was right."

"You're not going to rub my belly then?"

"No. I will take my leave."

The cat groaned. "Well, go on then. Submit, if you feel it's the only thing to do. It is easier. And who said you had to suffer in the act? Who cares? I don't."

"I'm not submitting. I'm in control of my choices. I trust myself. And I trust the Queen of the Wood. She told me that choosing love was a noble act."

"She did? Now that is most curious." The cat's eyes grew wide but its surprise passed in an instant.

"See? You don't know as much as you think," Credence said with a smug grin.

The cat bared its teeth. "So serious. So boring. You all begin as such happy, carefree things, but you turn around and grow up, and then everything is so urgent. A flaw in your design, I suppose. You're always in a rush, rush, rush. To nowhere, to nothing. You spend your whole life racing from one problem to the next, always worrying, and before you know it, you're dust. And where am I? Right here, licking my fur. Time means nothing to me—why must your lot care so much about it?"

"Maybe because we have very little of it."

"I thought you would see that as a reason to make the most of it. But no, what fools and failures you are, you only look to the end and worry your little lives away. Do you know how much of your life you've spent worrying over one single question? Should I marry or should I destroy? Should I accept fate or make my own destiny? All that wasted time." The cat yawned. "I'm devastatingly bored now."

It writhed in a pleasurable stretch, then rolled onto its back to display its tummy.

"Come pet me and scratch behind my ears."

"No."

"But my fur is so fluffy. It feels like clouds because it's made from the same stuff. Come on, I won't bite. Maybe."

Credence moved to the door.

The cat sighed. "Rush, rush rush."

Just as she began to leave the cat called to her, imparting one last remark.

"Don't hurry and worry all your time away, little half-breed. Stop and enjoy my world, if you can. And should you desire a good petting, I'll be right here..."