In the Shadows (14 page)

And I know that this is only the beginning.

Chapter Fifteen

T
here are only two days left before my senior prom. Isobel insisted that I come to the castle after school Thursday for a fitting. I tried explaining to her that this wasn’t my wedding and that most people just buy a dress off the rack and call it good but she couldn’t fathom such a ridiculous thought. And truth be told, she’s pretty stubborn when she wants to be.

Eloise is probably the only elf I’ve met so far that actually stands taller than me, albeit not much, but enough for me to take notice. Her long dark hair is pulled back and braided intricately, yet it still falls to her calves. I think if she were to undo it, it would fall into a shiny black heap on the floor at her feet like a dark-haired Rapunzel.

She designed five different gowns for me to look at and try on. The first is a tight yellow sheath dress as bright as the sun with diamond embellishments and a slit up to my thigh—which is more than a little out of my comfort zone. The next one is a lavender dress with a big poofy bottom that reminds me of a shower loofa. There is also a red satin dress with a sweetheart neckline and a champagne colored ruffled organza strapless gown, but I ultimately decide on the simplest one of the bunch—a midnight blue one made out of silk with a corset top and a full billowy skirt.

I stand on a low wooden box as Eloise works her magic, making the strapless, blue dress fit perfectly. I feel a little like Scarlett O’Hara in the full skirt that moves like a bell when I sway side to side—which I keep doing over and over much to her dismay, but it’s just so much fun. I don’t think strapless dresses were in fashion back in the pre-Civil War times, but if there was a Southern belle who would have attempted to pull it off, it would’ve been Miss Scarlett.

Freya and I exchange exaggerated annoyed looks back and forth but honestly, it’s not the worst thing ever. I think Isobel, however, is having the best time. She keeps gushing over how stunning I look.

The dress is lovely and no one else will have one even remotely similar so that’s definitely a point in its favor. Plus, I can’t complain too much--Eloise did agree to make it short enough that I can wear flats.

“Oh, Mia, you look stunning,” Isobel tells me for at least the hundredth time. “Do you love it?”

“It’s beautiful.” I assure her, also for the hundredth time.

There’s a quick tap on the door. “Come in,” I call out.

“Mia, your—,” Grey stops mid-sentence, eyes widening like a cartoon character and he swallows harshly before regaining his composure. I guess he likes the dress, I think to myself. Hopefully Jacoby has a similar reaction. “Um, your father would like to see you before you head home,” he finishes, clearing his throat nervously.

“Okay, thanks. I think we’re almost done.” I look hopefully at Eloise.

“Yep, that about does it,” Eloise tells me before turning to Grey. “Do you mind waiting outside?”

Grey clears his throat again before nodding and backing out of the room, never taking his eyes off of me.

Eloise and Freya lift the dress off of me. “I’ll have the alterations finished this evening and you can pick it up tomorrow.”

“That quickly?” I ask.

“Oh yes, my dear.”

“Okay, thank you!” I tell her, completely impressed.

“Before I go,” Eloise says as she exchanges a look with Isobel. “Which dress is your second favorite?”

There’s something about the way she asks that causes me to narrow my eyes in suspicion at her. Isobel smiles sweetly and I have a feeling this isn’t about having a back-up prom dress.

“Why?” I ask, feigning ignorance.

“Oh, you know my dear, just curious.”

“Fine. The champagne one.”

“Thank you!” She scurries from the room, holding the dress folded over her arms.

“Don’t think for a second that I don’t know what that was all about,” I tell Isobel.

“Oh, don’t spoil our fun!” she says with a perfectly delighted smile. “The champagne one was my favorite.”

“I liked the red one too. It was really hard to pick one. They were all really pretty,” I admit.

As nice as it was to have dresses custom made for me, I feel a twinge of sadness that I didn’t get to go dress shopping with Hannah and my mom. 

She wasn’t in class again today. I tried calling her cell and when she didn’t answer I called her house but nobody answered. I left messages on both phones and I even went so far as to drive by their house to see if anyone was home—they weren't.

Their neighbor said that she hasn't seen any of the Petersons in a few days so there's probably a logical explanation for Hannah's absence and as her ex-best friend, I'm just not privy to the information.

Something about it still bothers me though. I can't help but wonder what Ethan meant by his 'big plans' for her and I'll feel much better when she's back and I can see she's okay with my own two eyes.

“Are you okay. Mia?” Isobel asks.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about everything.”

“Have you and Hannah made up yet?”

“No. I guess she's out of town or something. She's not returning my phone calls.”

“It's hard, living this dual existence of yours isn't it?”

“Yeah, it is. I feel like I don't really belong any where.”

“I wish I could tell you it will get easier, but I'm afraid I have no way of knowing if that is true.”

“I know, thanks anyway. Is Jacoby still here?”

“I think so.” Isobel smiles affectionately. “We're supposed to have tea so we can discuss some more options for closing that portal we found. So far, nothing we’ve tried has been successful.”

She scrunches up her brow in frustration.

“Do you think it’s even possible?”

“There must be a way to do it. We just have to keep trying. Don’t worry my dear, we’ll get it figured out eventually,” she assures me.

“I hope so. Tell him to call me later okay?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks. See you later, Isobel.”

Grey is still waiting outside my door so I’m guessing he’s supposed to walk me down to wherever Alberico is.

Alberico is in his throne room, which always makes me nervous since it’s so much more official than his sitting room despite the fact that both rooms are for, well, sitting. Why he needs so many gigantic rooms all to himself, I’ll never know. The sitting room is casual, bright and airy with large windows, a perfect place to display all of his paintings. The throne room on the other hand is stuffy, with small circular windows so high up on the wall that they afford no view and do nothing for the lighting. Columns line the walls decorated with colorful tapestries depicting images relating to the history of the Light Elves. Alberico’s throne sits in the center of the room. It seems so majestic and overstated in contrast with my father’s personality which is actually very laid back, despite his over-protective tendencies.

“Mia, how are you?” Alberico greets me as I enter and the remaining few Light Elves in the room bow deeply before making their exit.

“Good, I guess,” I tell him.

“Did you choose a prom dress?”

“I did. It’s lovely, definitely one-of-a-kind.”

“Good, good. Well, I just wanted to let you know that I will be away from the kingdom for a day or two, though I should return before Saturday. I’d really love to see you and Jacoby before prom.”

“Where are you going?”

“I just have some business to take care of, nothing for you to worry about. However, I would like to know how you would feel about being left in charge in my absence.”

“What? Me? Um, no. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I understand. I just wanted to offer you the chance.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m really not comfortable being in charge. Can’t the Duke and Duchess do it?”

“Yes, they are naturally my second choice. Like I said, I just wanted to give you the chance.” He seems disappointed by my rejection of his offer.

“When do you leave?”

“Today.  I just wanted to make sure to say good-bye before I left.”

“Oh, okay. Well, um, have a safe trip.”

“Thank you, I will see you soon.” Alberico gives me a hug before dismissing me.

When I transport back into my house the putrid smell of burnt pasta and cheese is heavy in the air. It's not like my Suzy-Homemaker Mom to burn anything so I immediately assume the worst and race down the stairs knowing something is horribly wrong.

“Mom?” I call, rushing over to the stove top to turn it off and remove the skillet full of blackened penne pasta in alfredo sauce and shove it in the sink. “Mom?!” I cry out again as I run cold water over the pan until it stops steaming.

“I'm in here, honey,” her voice sounds strangled and my insides clench tightly as I walk towards the living room where I can now hear the TV.

The 5 o'clock news is on with a special report.

There's been another report of a missing person, bringing the total up to six locals. They're now calling in the FBI to investigate the matter. And while that news alone is terrible, that isn't what has my eyes glued to the screen. That isn't what causes the bile to rise from my stomach into my mouth. That isn't what has my throat tightening to the point that I can't breathe.

It's Hannah's face on the TV that suffocates me.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry,” My mom says as she stands up, arms outreached and ready to comfort me.

I can’t speak. I hold my hands up to stop her before she gets close enough.

“I—I can’t—I gotta—” I turn and run from the house as fast as I can. I run down the street, turning on the back road that connects my house with Hannah’s. The one we spent countless days riding our bikes back and forth between our houses all summer long. I see the cars, the lights, the news reporters from a block away and  I can’t run any further. I stop, clutching the stitch in my side, trying to catch my breath but my lungs feel too small. I gasp desperately for air, but it’s no use. 

My head is spinning, black circles are interfering with my vision, and just before I give in and allow the darkness to overtake me, strong arms wrap around me, pulling me up and cradling me against a chest that smells familiar—like apples and sandalwood.

“Breathe, Mia. Just breathe.”

“I can’t.” A million what-ifs are racing around the dark corners of my mind. What if I would’ve just told Hannah the truth? What if she had been aware of the other world where evil creatures of storybooks actually exist? What if they took her because she’s my best friend?  “Grey, do you think it’s too late?”

He nods sadly. “I’m sorry, Mia, but if they have her, I’m not sure if there is anything we can really do.”

The world distorts itself around me like a Fun House mirror, making me feel dizzy and nauseated. My lungs collapse in on themselves as the furious beating of my broken heart threatens to slam right out of my ripped open chest.

“I—can’t—breathe,” I gasp as Grey pulls me into his arms and holds me close to his chest, whispering words that I don’t understand. My tears fall freely, staining his shirt with wet splotches but he doesn’t care, he continues to hold me tight, comforting me just like he has done before. I feel his lips press down on the top of my head and even though this sweet gesture is completely innocent, my stomach flips unexpectedly which in turn elicits a crashing wave of guilt that instantly squashes the butterflies that had suddenly been awakened by his simple touch, shredding their wings into powdery oblivion until they no longer have any semblance of beauty.

Responding to the new tension, he lets go of me, unwrapping his arms from around me and taking a nervous step back. “Come on, let me take you to the castle. I’m sure Jacoby will—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence and I don’t really know what to say either so I just nod as I realize that the world has shifted again, leaving me wondering: what just happened?

Grey was my first crush, but he always made me feel like I wasn’t good enough for him. It turns out that wasn’t it at all. The biggest reason a relationship between the two of us would most likely be an epic fail is purely logistical; I’m mortal and he’s not. I’m the princess and he is employed by my father, the king, to protect me which means no distractions.

It just never made much sense for us to be together. And then of course I met Jacoby and, like Grey said so many weeks ago in the garden after our first kiss, Jacoby and I are the same. We make sense.

I thought I was over my little crush, but now I’m wondering if those feelings for Grey will ever really go away.

I shake the traitorous thoughts from my head. I’m with Jacoby. I love Jacoby. This is not the time to be thinking about this. Hannah is gone, vanished without a trace and it’s completely my fault.

Grey hesitates a moment before holding out his hand for me, like he always does, so that we can transport together but this time I’m not sure if it’s a good idea. Somehow, in just a matter of seconds, the harmless act of holding his hand doesn’t feel quite so innocent anymore. My eyes glance up from the palm of his hand to his face and his indigo eyes look so apologetic that I can’t reject his offering. With a deep breath, my hand connects with his, and the slight increase of pressure as his hand grips my own does not go unnoticed.

Neither does the faint fluttering of wings from the pit of my core.

Chapter Sixteen

C
haos.

That’s what we just transported into. Complete chaos.  Everyone seems to be heading toward the north wing which contains the residential apartments.  Grey and I exchange a look then fall in line with the mad-rush.

We push through the crowd of elves that are congregating in the entrance way. I recognize the back of Freya’s head, and make my way toward her to see if she knows what’s going on. I tap her on her shoulder to get her attention and ask, “What’s happened?”

“Oh Mia, it’s terrible!” She leans in close to my ear and whispers the words. “It’s Isobel. There’s a rumor that she’s---that she’s dead.”

“What?” I gasp audibly. This cannot be happening. First Hannah and now Isobel?