With a Kiss (Twisted Tales) (32 page)

I threw the apple at Hobs and he caught it with surprisingly deft fingers. That only made me more annoyed with him. “Why don’t you just jump?” I suggested. “That’s a good way to get down.”

“Only if you promise to heal me with your tears. You
would
cry, right?”

I didn’t answer, watching his sober face. I wasn’t prepared for honesty right now. “Maybe,” I said. “I’d have to use onions, of course.”

Hobs stared at the apple in his hand. He held it carefully, probably knowing what potent poison coursed through it. “I had to save you.” His voice was subdued and his directness surprised me. “Despite what you think, I’m not my mother’s servant. For all her beauty, for all her powers, she cannot love. She doesn’t know what it is.”

It sounded familiar. Well, it once was, though having no feelings didn’t hurt as much as this did. I leaned against the wall and pulled myself down to sit next to him on the cobbles. It felt good to be near him, but nothing eased the tension in my head. I tried to understand what he was saying. “Who sent you for me then?”

“She did.” He shrugged. “My mother awarded me a fancy medallion in some fine ceremony—ironic that it worked against her. It kept me safe from her
minions. No matter how much they tried, none of them could invoke me. My mother
was right, of course. I wanted you for myself. I knew it the moment I touched you.” He reached for my hand, and despite his confession, I let him take it. There was something comforting about the touch of his skin on mine, not that (I told myself) it meant anything. He turned my hand over in his, his fingers tracing the delicate veins at my wrist. “The thing is . . . I’m sensitive.”

I was shocked. Besides not having a sensitive bone in his body, I didn’t see the correlation. Hobs bit back a self-deriding laugh, which meant he read my expression perfectly. “I’m sensitive because I see things—just glimpses of the future, really. And I feel things, too—like when I touched you for the first time. I always knew that my mother’s plans would kill us all. None of us could stop her, but I had to try. I went to the Otherworld, pretending I would take you back to her, but I was going to hunt out the Otherworldly instead, make him pay for what he did to us—all of us, Ratis, you, my mother, my father . . . my brother. You were just an excuse, but when I touched you, I knew there was hope for our world. And there was more, something I never knew, though I had searched for you so long. You belonged with me.”

The pain in my head wouldn’t subside to numbness. I tried to hold still, but my thoughts were making me crazy. What had happened to his family? His mother’s vengeance screamed of pain that I couldn’t understand. And what Hobs said about me—was it true? Did I somehow belong with him? It made my heart race and didn’t help the headache at all. I squinted under it.

Hobs got to his knees, sliding the hair back from my face. His expression tender, he no longer held back the affection he had for me. His hands cradled my aching head. “Where is Babs?”

“Your mother took . . .” I couldn’t finish. Just knowing that Babs was somewhere in the Sidhe and I couldn’t get to her was driving me crazy.

“We could’ve used that kid. The way her hair grows, she’d be our way out of here.”

I blinked up at Hobs. “We’d be stuck up here for a really long time.”

“At least we’d be together.”

I groaned, knowing he was trying to figure out what my feelings were for him. I wanted to be with him, but I couldn’t let myself trust him. Not like before. I dragged my head up from his capable hands—hands that seemed to have been through more than this. They were roughened from past suffering, the hands of a survivor, everything that made up him, and yet they weren’t enough to help me. “Did I take Babs’ place on earth?” I asked. “Is she me? Is she Halley? You need to tell me what’s going on.”

“She’s just a mortal who got in the way.”

“My poor little baby. Everyone used her to get to me. Why? I’m not a threat to anybody! I have no power. I can’t even save her.” I choked on a sob and hid my face from him with my hands. “I don’t have a name.”

“You have a beautiful name.”

My hands fell to my sides. “You know it? Tell me!”

“That’s not how it works. You have to remember it.” That was ridiculous, and I was sure he could see my frustration. He took a steadying breath. “Listen to me. You’re ready now. No potions, no tricks. I couldn’t do it before. There was a shard of ice rammed in your heart that made everything I did dangerous. I could’ve shattered it. And if not, if you knew too soon who you were, you’d be just like the hag—unstoppable, with no heart.” He searched my face. “It was genius of my mom really. The only way to melt the ice was to love a mortal. No faery does that. Once I realized what the curse meant, I knew how hard it was going to be to break it. Why do you think we wandered the Sidhe in meaningless circles with that poor kid?”

“You didn’t? All that time wasted . . . on me?”

“You needed to learn how to love. Truly love.”

“And you? Why did you come along?”

“I was going in the second the ice melted. We’re connected, like it or not. The hag did everything she could to keep your heart frozen so no one could touch it, so
I
couldn’t touch it. That’s why I had to wait until you were ready. You see, there is only one way for you to know your name—you have to fall in love with a faery.”

I stared at him. Did he know how I felt about him? I liked him. A lot. But, he could hurt me so easily. I was so inexperienced—I couldn’t control my feelings. The fact that my heart could’ve easily shattered days ago meant none of this was very safe.

Hobs touched my hand. “We have too many memories to give up on each other.”

“Memories?”

A single eyebrow went up and I saw a hint of his familiar smile. “I suppose they haven’t happened yet, but don’t worry,
Leannan Sith
. I remember them. I see things.”

Leannan Sith?
It meant “faery sweetheart.” My lips lifted . . . even as the tiara reminded me.
Don’t fall in love with a faery
. . . but if you are one? If he was my Prince Charming, then everything could be fixed with a kiss. Already he knelt before me. Sure, I was doubled over with a raging headache. His forehead furrowed in concern. His was a face I had learned to care for. Now, he implored me with his eyes. Couldn’t I just let go for once? Trust him? It was only one kiss, after all. I leaned forward and gave him a light peck on the lips.

He grinned.
“Why did you do that?”

I felt my face go red. “I thought,” I stuttered. “You’re not my Prince Charming?”

“Just your consort.”

“What’s that?”

“Your Prince Charming, but
I
have to kiss
you
for this to work.”

My breath caught in my throat. That meant I really had to trust him. Give him the power. If the shard in my heart wasn’t melted properly, if his intentions weren’t good, if my curse wasn’t even close to being broken, Hobs could shatter my heart in an instant. Kisses were deadly here. It thumped loudly as I stared into his dark eyes and I took a chance. I closed my eyes and waited.

His hand slid over my chin and he leaned over to kiss me, just a brush of the lips really, and yet with that light touch, a spurt of awakening thoughts and emotions surged through me and I felt a burst of memory—well, a backwards memory, since according to him, it hadn’t really happened yet.

We were no longer freezing in a solitary tower, but sitting near a gurgling fountain. A blue scarf fluttered over my shoulder. Hobs played with it. I smiled at him, taking in his tunic and faded jeans. As always he took a modern twist to the faerytales. The fountain sparkled in the moonlight and I turned to stare at my reflection in the pool of water. Just like a dream, I could see the tiara on my head. The star on it twinkled over us.

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

My mother was singing my song. I could see her in the distance. Beautiful blonde hair flowing. The sky was dark with tiny lights from the stars shining above. The foliage around the courtyard swayed lush green and high, a maze of color behind us. I belonged here.

“Prosperity,” Hobs whispered. There was concern in his eyes. His fingers brushed my cheek. “You’re guardian of the Harvest, Lady Luck, Abundance. You are the life of the Sidhe. Without you, we are lost. I need you most of all.” He rested his forehead against mine. “
Habonde Dáma a wanders.
I’ve called you Habonde always.”

“Habonde?” I closed my eyes briefly. It was a strange name, vaguely familiar. “It goes well with Hobany.” I smiled. All my dreams—he was in them. He was my best friend, even though I didn’t know him like that yet. This vision held the promise of what was to come. And now that I knew him, I knew myself—just a faint memory, but it was enough to realize what I was capable of doing. I wasn’t some heartless villain or even a sweet princess. I was just . . . well, me. Same likes, same weaknesses, same hopes. Now that I knew, I felt silly. How could I have forgotten who I was?
Princess and the Pea, Goose Girl, Thumbelina.
They were all just Otherworldly euphemisms for living, breathing people in this world. People who weren’t me. He kissed me again.

I opened my eyes to see that the cold stones still held us captive in the tower, but I could only see Hobs. He watched me like he knew me, and now I understood why. We meant something to each other, the promise of what was to be. The pain in my head had subsided somewhat; it had become bearable. “Habonde?” I tested the name on my lips. “Yes, it’s so . . . me, isn’t it?”

He smiled. “You and I are the only ones who know it.”

“Besides my parents . . .”

“No.” He shook his head. “Faeries don’t name their babies. We’re born with them. Keep your name to yourself, Habonde, for now.” At my quizzical look, he explained, “It will keep you safe.” I was startled and he smiled at me and laughed, and completely surprised me by picking me up and swinging me around. “Habonde! That sounds so good. I’ll call you Halley to keep you safe, but when we’re alone together . . .” He kissed me again. With the help of his visionary touch, it transferred us to another prospective memory in the near or distant future—I couldn’t tell which.

This time we stood in the courtyard of a vast marble castle. Dancing couples swirled around us. Gardens surrounded us with glittering lights hanging over the trees like icicles. I wore a sleek, white evening dress, my hair gathered high on my head, and two braids plaited past my shoulders. My hair was so long and heavy. Was it even real? Hobs tucked his arm around my waist. We were in the middle of a formal occasion, but he wasn’t dressed for it, as usual. He was in black and white and looked like a court jester—a super hot one. He wore a mask. With a wicked look, he danced something above my head, trying to keep it from me. I could only guess that he had been teasing me—it was definitely in character. I tore away from him and we were back in the tower.

“You jerk!” I shouted.

“Don’t get mad.” He held his hands up to defend himself. “It hasn’t happened yet . . . it might never happen.”

“But it did!”

“Yeah, but for now it’s just a faerytale prophecy, and not a very helpful one at that. At least now you got to see what I saw the first time I touched you.” True to form, he hugged me to force out some of my temper, completely aware of the sparks flying out of me, and yet I knew that he loved every bit of me. “C’mon, we’ll find a better memory.”

Before I could shove him away, we were interrupted by a scream from below. The ogre standing watch sounded absolutely terrified. Hobs rushed to the window. “I think we’ve been discovered. We don’t have much time—only till the stroke of midnight actually.” Now my mother’s words made sense. She had given me a time limit. Midnight. It was always midnight. “They’re still having the Midsummer Night celebrations here,” he informed me, “when the moon is aligned with the heavens. That’s how we tell time in the Sidhe. It’s been a summer since my mother took you to the Otherworld to live with the Starrs.”

 “A summer? I’m seventeen. I don’t think so.”

“We’re going by faery time here, you oaf.” At my angry look, he hurriedly explained. “Sorry. Oaf just means you’ve been switched at birth with a human.”

Oh.
I felt myself relax. “I see. So just enough time passed for
some
of us to meet the required maturity levels.”

“It’s been 13,896 cloud drifts, 3,956 moon shifts, and almost seventeen Midsummer nights since we’ve been apart. Believe me, I felt every moment. The world came to a stop when you left, Habonde. I didn’t know why until I touched you, but I searched the Otherworld endlessly for you, not even finding a shadow of you. I’ve spent years in the Otherworld numb with worry for you until it hurt to feel.”

I wanted to kiss him for that, but it really was important to stay in the present and figure this out, so I hugged him instead. His strong arms wrapped around my waist and he pulled me in tightly. I listened to the steady rhythm of his heart before we pulled apart.

Another scream alerted us to the action below.

I leaned over the window, not seeing a thing in the shadows. On one side, the tower was tall like a skyscraper, the Sidhe a constellation of glistening lights below. The other side? I couldn’t see the ground there—it was so dark. I took a deep breath, getting vertigo when I tried to think of a way to scale down. A cluster of snowflakes melted against my face, though it gave my aching head no relief. “Shouldn’t winter stop?” I asked. “I know who I am now.”