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She pulled out paper and a piece of kohl from her pocket and drew a rough map. Explaining the enchantments in place.
Oleander took the paper gingerly. “Will you help anyone else find her if they come looking for her?”
Namble glared at him before bending to collect the books and somehow fitting the entire collection in odd pockets lining her felt green jacket. “Course not.”
“Well, that’s good—”
“Nobody else is in love with her.”
Dumbfounded, Oleander watched Namble stride away from him. The gremlin’s words clattered around in his head, a truth he’d only ever looked at out of the corner of his eye.
Still, like rain clearing dirt from a gemstone, the truth of his love for Perine shone back at him.
Everyone else may like Perine Wilder. How could they not? Being with her was like walking through the forest on the first day of summer—she was vibrant with life, bewitching from every angle, and possessed of a serene power that quieted every fear without asking for permission.
But nobody in any realm would ever love her like he did.
He ran a hand down his face and let out an overly loud and dramatic groan.
Oleander stood in front of a gigantic stone that towered over him. It looked to be guarding a field of daisies, but he now knew better. He sliced his palm open, letting the blood spill out, and smeared it across a massive stone. The stone dissolved into pastel-coloured shimmers, and before him materialised a quaint, pink cottage.
He took a steadying breath and on instinct pulled out Perine’s lavender handkerchief to hold. He knocked on the door, willing his heart to remain calm, rubbing his thumb over the floral embroidery.
The door swung open with a creak, revealing three grey gorgons stacked on top of one another, their snakes snapping wildly around their heads.
“I’m looking for Perine Wilder,” Oleander announced. “I’ve heard you might be able to help me.”
The gorgons turned to each other, their eyes glinting with a mischievous joy that made Oleander’s stomach tighten. Their snakes stilled, eyes narrowing on him with distrust.
The gorgons began signing to one another, their hands moving in swift, precise gestures. Oleander couldn’t help but wonder if the snakes were sentient in their own right, or if they were merely extensions of the gorgons’ minds. Either way, the gorgons were obviously deliberating how much they could swindle him for the information.
Oleander waited, his patience fraying as the conversation stretched on.
At least he knew they had the information he was searching for. Watching them sign, Oleander quickly pieced it together—this was where Perine had been hiding the whole time. The relief that flooded him must’ve shown on his face, because the snakes started nipping irritably at their owners, hissing in agitation. The tallest gorgon froze mid-sign, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“Wait—isn’t your brother Hemlock Brightmore?” She eyed him warily.
Oleander grinned. >He is.Shall I propose a bargain? One that doesn’t involve me becoming a statue in your home for a year? Since I’m assuming helping Perine is important to everyone here?You can’t blame us for trying.Naturally. Anyway, my counter proposal is this: a partnership. We continue to work together. I hear you’re artists, but demonkind don’t pay you fairly for your art. I’ll broker it for double what you usually get. You keep all the profits, and in exchange, you help me help Perine. Then I’ll come by once a month for tea and listen to whatever gossip you’ve gathered.Why do we have to drink tea together?We’re not animals.Fine. Oleander, son of Laurel, we accept your weird bargain. Peri’s in one of our spare rooms, but she’s…She’s not well.<
Bowing in acceptance of the deal, Oleander removed his shoes and followed them inside their surreal, pink house. They passed a room filled with grotesque statues of demons—wide-eyed, screaming, frozen in terror. Oleander shuddered. Hopefully, they had other pieces that weren’t quite so... unsettling.
The gorgons led him to a small, tucked-away room in a hallway painted in soft creamy pinks, still vibrant but much calmer than the rest of their home.
He slipped into a room so dark it took his eyes a moment to adjust, only the barest sliver of light peeked through a window mostly covered in thick curtains. From the other side of the room, curled under heaps of blankets he found Perine’s vibrant lavender curls sprawled over a large pillow.
