Rue

Chapter 14

I woke long before Henri would have left for the hunt. The sky was changing to pink. The cabin had a slight chill, but between the blanket and Rue’s body heat, I was warm. I slipped my arm out from under her neck and rolled over her to get out of the bed. I tucked the blankets around her. I wasn’t sure how long Faeries could sleep, but I hoped long enough for me to disappear.
I fetched the clothes that I had abandoned from the floor. I dressed and stepped into my boots. I gave Rue a peck on the forehead and left. Leaving her like that made my heart ache, but involving her was something I couldn’t do. I glanced back at the rugged cabin, forcing myself to smile.
I ducked under the cover of the trees, making my way to the house. I kept my ears open for any signs of movement, and my nose alert for any humans. Birds were the noise makers; they grew louder the higher the sun rose. They seemed to be the only creatures around. I stopped at the river to wash my face and gulp a few mouthfuls.
I watched the house for movement and dashed around to the side where Uncle’s old office was. I kept my distance, but the room was empty. I moved around, ensuring Henri was gone.
He left earlier than I expected. I tested the front door, not surprised it was locked. All the windows on the ground level were shut tight, unable to budge. I would have to go in from the roof. I climbed up, facing Lore’s window. She used to sneak out more than any of us, and when she left, I doubted she had bothered to lock it. My guess proved to be right; I stumbled in through the window into her pink and yellow room. All of her things were gone with her, except the few memories of when we would play in here.
I peeked through the door, straining my ears for any noise. The house shifted as usual, its age really starting to show. I stepped out into the hallway like a scared cat. My head jerked back and forth, checking for anyone. Nothing.
I crept to Uncle’s old office. The desk was littered with papers, three times as many as there used to be. Half-eaten food was covered with flies and left in on the window sill. My nose wrinkled from the stench.
I picked up the paper on the top of the pile. On the top right was the crest of a half-moon on a dark blue background and at the bottom was Henri’s signature. It was an official document from the king, and though he was my cousin, I could be killed for even looking at them. My eyes scanned through it, my frown growing. I grabbed the next one and the next one, reading them all. Each paper was a proposal to change the current laws of our people. Henri was trying to lift the hunting limit my father had put into place, change the tradition of the ruler’s killer becoming the ruler, and alter several other necessary laws. Henri was trying to change things, but not for the better.
“A curfew each night? Right,” I muttered.
The more I looked, the worse things seemed to get. Henri seemed to already be engaged to the daughter of an American Alpha. I stacked all the papers into a neat pile. Henri would know someone was in the house, and since I was dead, it would drive him crazy.
I made my way to the attic. Henri didn’t close the door last time he was up there. I climbed the stairs, curious what I would find. There, at the end of the hall, was what looked like a new wall. Henri had covered my bedroom door in so many wooden planks that it was hard to tell where it started. He didn’t want me to get out.
Empty bottles were scattered across the floor. The boards reeked of alcohol. He must have sat outside my door, just drinking the thoughts of me away.
I went to the kitchen, making myself comfortable. There wasn’t much, but I had enough to make a sandwich with some stale bread and an old salami log. The only cheese I could find was spotted with mold. Aunty would have a fit if she ever saw his place and how it was left.
I found some old bottles of wine. I hated the taste, but I needed to calm my nerves. I stopped after a few sips, not wanting to drink the whole bottle, as tempting as it was. My thoughts continued to drift towards Rue. Was she still safe? She was more than capable of protecting herself, but worrying about her had become a more frequent habit.
I leaned back in the chair, putting my feet up on the table. Aunty used to yell at Jan for doing the same thing. I smiled, remembering her pulling his ear and not allowing him to have dessert.
One of the floorboards creaked upstairs.
My head jerked up. I jumped to my feet as I dashed for the stairs. I stopped at the top, my ear pressed to the door.
“Nothing again,” he muttered to himself. Only his footsteps were heard in the empty house. He stomped to the office. He groaned a few times, but I never heard the door shut. I held my breath and pushed open the kitchen door, praying it didn’t make a sound. As soon as the gap was big enough, I squeezed out.
I walked as close to the wall as possible, where the warped boards tended to be silent. Lore often used that trick to sneak out, and I was putting it to use.
“No, no, no,” Henri shuffled the papers. He slammed a glass on the desk—the bottle of whiskey. It was as old as Henri and Uncle drank it on special occasions. If Henri kept this up, he would have drained the bottle in a day.
I took a breath and stepped into the doorway. Henri’s blond hair was a mess. His skin was paler than I had ever seen, making the dark circles around his eyes seem almost black. His pen flicked across the stacked papers. He didn’t even seem to notice I had piled the papers in the first place. He lifted the bottle to his lips, his eyes locking on mine.
I expected him to jump up and wrap his fingers around my neck. Instead, he swallowed the mouthful of alcohol and went back to writing.
I frowned, stepping into the room.
“Don’t come any closer, please.” He took another swig of the drink.
“You’re not surprised I’m here?” I took a seat in front of the desk. The fabric of the chair was worn; a few more years and the stuffing would be popping out.
“After what I did to you? Not really, cousin. I’m surprised it took you so long to show up.”
I leaned back, taking everything in.
“And why’s that?”
Henri looked over a paper, his eyebrows scrunched together, before placing it in its own pile.
“You’ve been dead for a while now, haven’t you? I promise you I’ll give you a proper funeral when I build up the courage to open that door.”
Henri thought I was dead. Dead. I laughed, grabbing my side. I wheezed for breath, wiping the tears from my eyes. Henri didn’t look up during my fit. His hand grasped his pen harder.
“That’s what you’re worried about? Giving me a funeral? What about Rue? You’re hunting her like a maniac.”
Henri sighed. “I can’t find her, if that makes you happy. I fear for my life, you know. I know Titania doesn’t care for her, so if I killed her nobody would bat an eyelid. You were the problem. I’m just waiting for her to attack.”
I shook my head. “You’re driving yourself insane, Henri. Rue isn’t going to kill you. Stop these hunts—”
“I can’t! I can’t,” He took another drink, longer than the other ones. “Until she’s dead, I can’t sleep. I can’t close my eyes without seeing your dead body behind that door. Killing her will bring me freedom. I will burn you both together so you can be happy.”
“If you leave Rue alone it will make me happy, Henri.”
Henri dropped his head in his hands. He was shaking, thinking he was arguing with my ghost.
“Do you know anything about Faeries? I killed you! I killed the man Rue of the Winter Colored Hair loves! She will take her revenge. I don’t want to spend my whole life thinking of this when—”
“Then just leave,” I said. “Leave Germany. This world is huge. Give up your crown and find somewhere to live.”
Henri’s cries started to grow louder. I bit my lip, unsure of how to proceed. Henri thought I was a ghost, and that Rue had sworn to take his life.
“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. She will find me. War will start. I just want this to be over. This is all your fault, anyway.”
Henri leaned forward, yanking open the desk drawer. He shuffled through what sounded like papers and pencils, before dropping a metal object on the desk. A pistol.
He picked it up and popped open the side, loading in bullets with shaking hands. I jumped up, dropping my hands on the desk.
“How is this my fault? You locked me away to die!”
Henri let out a snort. “Don’t play dumb. I know you made that deal with Rosaline. She asked every other potential heir too. But not me. I was never going to be king because of you.”
“What deal?” I had made a deal with her, but it was nothing worth mentioning. I wanted information.
“Rosaline told me, Felken! She told me you made a deal with her! You wanted my crown! You can’t have it, even if you are dead.”
Rosaline Lovelock. She fed Henri false information knowing he would do anything to protect the crown he wanted more than anything. For what? So I could be king? Because of her I had to kill Henri.
“Henri, I am not dead. Look at me! I am alive, and Rue isn’t hunting you. She wanted your life for killing her wolves, but I made a deal with her. She will not kill you. She will not hunt you. Let her go—no, let both of us go. You will never see us again.”
Henri snapped the metal chamber closed. He pointed the end at my chest.
“You’re a liar, Felken. You always have been. You should have told me a Faerie lived in these woods. You should have told me! Now look. I had to kill you, and look what you’ve done to me!”
My heart raced. Henri was growing to be more unstable as time went on and I feared for my life. I brought my thumb to my mouth, and bit the skin with my canine hard enough for blood started to flow from the wound.
“Look, Henri. I am alive. Ghosts don’t bleed.”
Henri started at the blood that dropped to the floor, his mouth hanging open. His eyes were damp with tears and his shaking dropped the gun.
“You’re not dead? I didn’t kill you?”
I shook my head, forcing a smile. “You almost did, but I escaped. You don’t have to worry anymore, Henri. Apologize to Rue for hunting her wolves and the war won’t have to happen. I promise you’ll never see us again. I’ve rather enjoyed living in the woods—”
I heard the sound before I felt the pain. My side throbbed, the blood blooming over my white clothes. Henri pointed the gun at me, watching as I fell to the floor. I pressed my hand to the wound, crying out at the stinging. The bullet didn’t go all the way through; I could feel it against my rib.
“I’ve already killed you once, cousin. I can do it again. I promise to give you a lovely funeral with Rue. Her mother is having a boy, did you know? Nobody will miss either one of you. I will marry that American girl, and I will name a son after you, and if I have a daughter, she will be Rue. See? You will live on through them. But you still have to die. It’s my crown.”
Henri’s rambling became more and more random. He didn’t have to kill me or Rue, but Henri’s mind was long gone. He thought I was taking the crown from him.
I looked around the room, looking for anything I could use. I never knew about Uncle’s gun, so finding another hidden one was out of the question. I spotted the fire poker, just out of reach behind Henri.
I spat out the blood in my mouth, my heart working overtime to keep me alive. Henri missed my lungs, which I counted myself lucky for, but the more time passed, the weaker I was growing. I was losing too much blood, and even as a werewolf, I wasn’t healing fast enough. The silver was going to kill me.
Henri aimed the gun again, this time for my head. He fired. I braced myself for the impact, but his swaying put his aim off. The bullet hit the floor, a few inches from my face.
He took aim again, steadying himself with his left hand.
“Farewell, cousin.”
Bang.
I clenched my eyes shut, waiting for death. I heard the bullet make contact with flesh, but with my current pain it was hard to tell if he missed or I was hit again.
I forced my eyes open, seeing nothing but white. Rue stood in front of Henri, her hand around his throat. Like me, Henri was tall, so she couldn’t lift him off the ground, but her strength was all she needed. Henri gasped for air, his face turning blue.
“Rue, stop,” I begged; I had to be the one to kill him.
She dropped him to the floor, turning to look at me. The front of her dress was turning black, and I realized Henri had shot her in the shoulder. Her blank face made it seem like she was fine, but tears rolled down her cheeks.
I pushed myself to my feet, grabbing the desk for support. I stumbled towards the fire poker as fast as I could, slamming my side into Henri. He stumbled back and reached for his gun, struggling to aim. He shot twice, both missing.
“You said she couldn’t kill me!” he cried, pushing himself into the corner. Rue watched him, her left arm useless.
“When I made the deal,” I spat out more blood, gripping the metal poker. “I said, ‘you cannot kill him yet.’ Yet. I can give her permission to kill you whenever I like.”
Henri’s face paled, holding up the gun at Rue. She dashed forward and grabbed it, turning it to face Henri. Her flesh gave off a burning smell, emanating from her hand. Iron. The gun had iron.
“I’m sorry, cousin,” I panted. “This is for the better. I used to look up to you and thought you were like a brother to me. But this has to end. You had your chance, and I can’t—” I wiped away the few tears I had on my face, and raised the poker above my head.
I swung. The metal buried itself in Henri’s chest. He groaned, his eyes clenching shut. I must have broken a few ribs around his stab wound. I raised the poker again, knowing the wounds I inflicted wouldn’t be quite enough to kill him. It collided with where his heart was. I tossed the poker to the other side of the room.
“You should have been king, cousin.” Henri gasped for air. Each breath became wheezier.
Rue pushed herself closer, a bundle of herbs in her hand. I recognized them from Titania’s party; the purple flowers the apples sat on.
She pried Henri’s mouth open. He squirmed, but was too weak to protest. She stuffed the herbs in his mouth. Henri’s eyes shot open. He clawed for his mouth, spitting out the herbs. He wasn’t fast enough.
His hands dropped to his sides, limp.
The room fell silent. I looked at Henri’s corpse, dread and regret running through me. I killed my own family? And for what? To protect it?
Rue fell. She rolled on her back, and I remembered she had been shot. Henri must have loaded the gun with iron bullets, and the longer it was inside her, the more it killed her.
I gasped, trying to walk to the desk. My legs felt numb and my vision was starting to flicker, but I had to save Rue. I dug through the drawers, finding a letter opener in the shape of a sword. It was dull, but it was long and the best thing on hand.
I pulled Rue’s dress down. Blood poured out of the wound. Grabbing the whiskey, I dipped the letter opener in the bottle, not even knowing if it would sanitize it.
“This will hurt,” I warned.
Rue nodded and closed her eyes. Tears still flowed from them like rivers.
I took a deep breath and dug the letter opener into the hole. Rue didn’t move, which both worried me and relieved me. She twitched when the metal hit the bullet. It was two inches deep. I pried the letter opener under the bullet and started to lift it out. I knew I was causing her tremendous amounts of pain, but if she was to live, this had to be done. As soon as I could see the bullet, I dug my fingers in it and retrieved it, tossing it across the room. I let out a deep sigh and let my eyes close for what felt like the final time.