Page 81 of A City of Emeralds and Envy
“Of course, love,” says Caer. “Whatever you need.” Jasper nods enthusiastically, and Riordan bows his head to me.
West doesn’t protest. As Dorothy and I move into the hallway, Fiero trots after us and begins nosing along the baseboard.
“I’m sorry.” I force the words out, my hands twisting together. “I know Fae don’t like apologies, but you’re part human so… either way, I owe you an apology for behaving as I did. I was incredibly selfish… so blinded by the nearness of the future I wanted that I was willing to do anything to get it. I sacrificed myself once, you know—sacrificedeverything. I believed I was going to die. And then, when I didn’t—well, I supposed I got greedy for the things I never thought I could have. It made me a little mad, I suppose. As Caer would say, everyone’s a little mad in Faerie.” I release a faint laugh. “But that doesn’t excuse how I behaved toward you—what I asked you to do to the person you—” My voice cracks. “Dorothy, I’m so sorry.”
She regards me coolly, as if she’s gauging my emotions, my sincerity. Calculating what her response should be.
“You don’t have to forgive me,” I add hastily. “You have every right to be angry as long as you need to. I just had to say it, before we—you know.”
“In case we die.”
“Yes. That.”
“I understand why you wanted me to kill West. You love Caer and Riordan. You can’t bear to think of them existing in torment.” She nods. “You acted as I would have if our circumstances were reversed, and I can’t fault you for that.”
“Then… we’re all right, you and I? Friends?”
“Friends.” She seems to be testing the word, seeing how it feels in her mouth. “Yes.”
She heads for the parlor again.
“I hope this works,” I blurt out. “Not just for me, but for you. I think you are more yourself here than you ever were back home.”
Dorothy glances over her shoulder, with a mysterious half-smile. “But thisishome. And I think I’ve always been trying to get here.”
When we return to the others, West is holding the potion, preparing to drink it, but he says, “There’s one final piece of this puzzle. We need the Wizard to take his god-star form, otherwise he can’t be trapped inside the stone.”
“He showed that form to Alice and me,” Dorothy says. “He might do it again. But if we ask, he might get suspicious.”
West shakes his head. “We can’t just ask. We have to force him into that form. Someone has to make a wish.”
“But each person gets only one wish, and we’ve all made ours,” says Caer. “Can you have one of your servants do it?”
West shakes his head. “People who have been under thrall cannot make wishes to the god-star, even if they’ve been released from the thrall by their master’s death. There’s a conflict of magic there…. Or perhaps it’s a fail-safe the god-stars instituted, to prevent the Wizard from becoming too powerful during his exile.”
Everyone falls silent, but my eyes snap to Jasper, who’s standing by a sculpture, his fingers tracing the contours and details with wondering admiration.
“Jasper hasn’t made a wish,” I say. “And he’s never been under thrall. The East Witch’s power didn’t work on him. He might be the only one on the entire Isle who can do this. Certainly the only person we can get on such short notice.”
Every head in the room turns toward Jasper. He stares back, blue eyes widening as he grasps what I’ve said.
“Fuck,” growls Riordan. “I suppose it’s a good thing we rescued him.”
“Of course it is,” says Caer. “With a cock like that, killing him would have been a terrible waste.”
“Oh gods, Caer.” I shove his shoulder, and he grins.
“Right, then.” West plucks the stopper from his vial. “I suppose it’s bottoms-up for me, and then Dorothy, you’ll take us to the Emerald City.”
She holds his gaze. “If we both survive this, we need to talk.”
“Of course.” He winks at her. “I’d be happy to—talk—with you.”
Her mouth twitches slightly—the barest hint of a smile. “Drink up, motherfucker.”
30
I am sick, sick, sick of being here. Sick of being trapped on this fucking Isle, barred from the rest of Faerie, from the other realms. Prevented from expanding through the universe as I’m used to doing. Confining me here is like taking a magnificent dragon from the skies and jamming it into a thimble. It’s barbaric. It’s fucking infuriating.
