Nicholas, Harper, and Maisie emerged from the dense brush into a clearing, where a large, elegant cottage stood nestled among the trees. It looked oddly luxurious for something so deep in the woods—more like a hidden manor than a woodland dwelling.
They approached cautiously, following Maisie's lead. As she stepped onto the porch, the door creaked open on its own, revealing a lavish interior. Exquisite ornaments decorated the furniture and hung from walls and ceilings. The scent of blooming jasmine drifted through the air—blended with something else. Something faintly familiar, yet difficult to place.
''Oh, uhmm… there's one thing I need to mention before we go in, we're to refer to her as Fairest Nezzar. Gotta say it just like that. And we have to take off our shoes here," Maisie whispered.
Nicholas and Harper exchanged a look of indifference before stepping inside. They scanned the space carefully. From the entrance hall, Nicholas could see a marble island straight ahead through a pair of glass double doors, beyond that, there was another pair of glass doors that opened into a garden. To this right, there was a shut door.
Moments later, two well-groomed cats swaggered through an open door to their left, and sat directly in front of them, staring.
Nicholas looked at Harper, who was looking at Maisie, who curled the corner of her lip and raised an arm signaling that they be patient.
After a short while, the cats turned and strut back the way they came.
"This way," Maisie said, following the path of the cats into what seemed like a coatroom. It opened into a candlelit sunroom where a woman with pale white skin, who looked to be in her forties, sat in a rocking chair at its center.
She was bespectacled and wore a flowing green gown. At the sight of Nicholas, she gasped—and stared at him for a discourteously long time.
Harper cleared her throat, an audible warning.
''Forgive me,'' the woman said, scoffing a laugh. "But you, of all people, must understand. The first time you see him and… them—it takes some getting used to." She removed her glasses and continued to stare intensely.
Her voice had the odd combination of shrill and sweet. She gracefully pushed her slender body from her chair, rising as if in slow motion. Her silk gown swished and shimmered in the candlelight. She looked at Harper carefully, smirking; slowly parting her gown revealing a thin blade with a silver shaft strapped to her snow-white thighs.
Nicholas and Harper powered up instantly—his eyes burning red, hers green. Bodies taut. Ready.
"Easy," Fair Nezzar said, pausing. "I sense you've had quite a night. I mean no harm. I only need to take a bit of his blood."
She drew the blade slowly.
They looked to Maisie.
She gave a small, hesitant nod. Permission.
But Fair Nezzar saw that they needed more. Sensing apprehension.
"I am called Fairest Nezzar. Your companion has told me what you seek. Your pain is thick. Your power, enormous. And yes, I know of the prophecy. But it is not my role to reveal it to you. My duty lies in giving Nicholas something important... if he'll accept it."
''Give me what?'' Nicholas asked.
''Space for a new mind to keep in trust.''
'' A new mind… What does that mean?'' Harper echoed, frowning.
Fair Nezzar didn't answer.
''Is she deaf Maisie?'' Harper spat, visibly irritated and growing impatient.
''Harper…'' Maisie said, carefully trying to pacify her.
Harper took a sharp breath and cleared her throat.
"So, just to be clear—you know what the prophecy says about us, and our daughter, but won't tell us?" Harper pressed.
''Precisely.''
Harper fought hard to suppress the rage building inside her.
''She does know that my daughter was taken barely twenty minutes after I had her… right Maisie?'' Harper said, turning to Maisie.
''Fair Nezzar knows'' She said cutting in before Maisie could utter a word. ''I know that she was taken from your lovers arms while he fought impossibly against the death-crystals. Yet, I maintain that it is not my place to give you the answers you seek.'' Fair Nezzar replied.
Harper swallowed hard. Her jaw clenched. Her hair shimmered faintly green, flickering.
"Then can you at least point us to someone who will tell us what this prophecy is? Or… better still, point us to someone who will tell us where our daughter is?"
''The answers to those questions are lie along your path.'' Fair Nezzar said calmly. '' Nicholas will either permit me to deliver what I have to him, or he won't. Either way, you'll all be gone from my presence in less than fifteen minutes and I'll carry on with my evening.'' She said, pointing the thin blade at Nicholas.
''Now, take off your shirt young man.''
Nicholas looked at Harper, intent that they make the decision together.
She hesitated. This woman had made a choice—she could tell them more. She chose not to. Harper decided in that moment that she would not leave the cottage without answers. And she knew that Nicholas had already made the same decision. Then, slowly, she nodded.
Nicholas removed his shirt. His thickset chest vibrating from the intensity of his heartbeat. His torso, sculpted and defined, tapered into the unmistakable V of a swimmer's build. Two pale scars traced down his left side, remnants—so his father claimed—of a childhood skiing accident.
''Hmm…'' Fair Nezzar hummed, her lips curling lasciviously as her gaze lingered on Nicholas' body.
Harper and Maisie exchanged a glance of mutual disdain.
Fair Nezzar sliced her right index finger. Blood pooled between her fingers as she whispered incantations. Harper caught the distinct scent of Aqua Regia, the alchemical acid, as she strode past her toward Nicholas.
She cut Nicholas' right index, repeating the incantations, and swiftly pulled out a purple vial, uncorking it and letting a drop of its silver content onto the wound, then pressed her wounded finger on Nicholas', holding it there for a moment. Then rubbed her fingers together, ensuring the mixture spread. She spread some of the blood on her left hand as well.
''Are you ready?'' She asked, fixing her eyes on Nicholas.
Before He could answer, she placed her right bloodied index and middle finger between his eyes and that of her left between his chest, just above his abdomen.
As soon as she touched him, both hers and Nicholas' eyes went cloud white.
Their heads tilted up towards the ceiling, they spoke in an unknown tongue.
Harper stood frozen, watching, fighting fear and panic. She cautiously walked around them, observing, not sure what to do, or if she was to do anything at all. The longer they remained as they were, the harder it got to fight the strong urge to snatch Nicholas away from the enchanting touch of the aged witch.
She waved a hand in front of Nicholas' eyes, no response. Then she made to touch him…
''Harper… '' Maisie called, shaking her head.
After what seemed like a long period of tempting fate, their bodies began to vibrate. Harper and Maisie looked at each other, dumbstruck.
''What do we do?' Harper asked, turning to Maisie.
''I don't know Harp.''
The vibrating steadily developed into tremors.
Harper and Maisie shared a scared and confused look.
''I think they're having a seizure!'' Maisie cried.
That was all Harper needed to hear. She surged forward and shoved Nicholas away with all her strength, breaking the contact.
Maisie dove to catch him before he hit the floor.
Harper rushed to him, taking his head in her hands.
''Nic.'' She said, checking for a pulse.
She heaved a sigh of relief as she felt the slow, steady throbbing of the thick artery at the side of his windpipe.
''Watch his head.'' She told Maisie before turning to Fair Nezzar.
Fair Nezzar stirred as Harper reached to check for a pulse, then opened her eyes sharply, startling Harper.
''What did you do to him?'' Harper growled.
Fair Nezzar chuckled. "I made love to him—in a realm of our own creation."
''Filthy witch, are we a joke to you!'' Harper barked, Her hair flared, her eyes blazing. She rose several feet into the air, terrifying and radiant. "You will tell me everything you know about the prophecy. About Emily, About us. All of it."
Fair Nezzar winced with mocking amusement.
Nicholas suddenly jolted awake, gasping, eyes wild.
As Harper turned toward him— Nezzar raised a hand.
''Farewell child. We'll see each other again.''
In a flash, all three of them were gone.
They landed in the same forest clearing—only now, the cottage was gone.
It hit Harper like a tidal wave of depressing disappointment. They had nearly died, chased by enormous lions, now an alabaster witch had just taken them on a ride for her own twisted amusement. They had gained nothing. Not a single step closer to her Emily. She felt stretched, close to breaking point.
She let out a scream—shrill, raw, and full of despair. So piercing that the banshees of the forest wailed back in eerie kinship.
Nicholas reached for her—but she shoved him away.
She turned, eyes wet, glowing, mournful—locking onto Maisie, then Nicholas.
And then, without a word, Harper soared into the air and vanished into the pitch-black sky.