16. Normality

Days moved faster than I thought they would. In short spurts, as if I had missed a whole week here or there. My family were worried about me. I often woke, screaming into my pillow, drenched in a cold sweat. I hardly ever saw anyone besides Mix. And even her I saw scarcely. But how was I supposed to concentrate on real life when I had seen so much more.

The first day of school almost killed me. I kept to myself, tyring to deal with everything. All the people and talking and gossip. I hadn't realised until now, but high school was so trivial. There was so much out there that no one knew about. A whole new world. A real world. A magic world. It sounded strange whenever I spoke. Like the words or the voice didn't belong to me. I was going to have to work on that; I was getting weird looks whenever I opened my mouth. Or maybe the looks were simply because I was opening my mouth – it didn't happen often.

I tried. I honestly did. But it wasn't working out for me. It was during chemistry, sitting next to Mix, that everything began to pile on top of me. It was all too much. How was I supposed to think about electron configuration and ionic bonding, when River was the only thing I saw? I didn't notice the tears, until I heard one hit my notebook. That was when I realised I couldn't see anything. Everything was swimming in tears. Hazy. Like the paintings that lined the walls of River's mansion. The painting of me, in the midnight blue gown, staring at the cross. I had become Giselle. I was nothing more than a shell. An empty void. There was nothing left.

It took months. Months for both Adam and I to get better. Adam, was so weak and sick for so long he hardly looked like himself. But he was getting better. When I'd first returned, I noticed how little I was worried about Adam. I was, of course, but I didn't think he'd die. Angus said someone would die. And that was River. So, I figured by that logic, Adam would live.

Also, I had blocked out any real feeling and emotion for so long, it took a while for me to watch my family and begin to feel. I had… improved, but I wasn't well. Mum and Dad were mostly too worried about Adam to send me off to counselling, which I was entirely grateful for. I couldn't exactly talk about what had happened to me anyway.

I honestly began to wonder if it was real. Everything was normal again. It was as if a few months had disappeared from my life, but that was it. Those memories of France that I'd created almost seemed real now. Perhaps I had just gone to France. I mean, I knew I'd taken drugs. Perhaps… everything, was just drugs and depression. Maybe nothing was real at all. I didn't know anymore. I didn't even care anymore.

Mix and I walked into my room one day after school, dumping our bags on the floor. Mum was at the hospital and Dad was still at work. I'd invited her to study with me. I doubted how much we'd actually study.

She moved to the radio and flicked it on, slumping into my beanbag and grabbing a magazine from the floor. I was about to fall onto my bed when something stopped me.

A tiny figurine. A faery. With auburn coloured hair and a midnight blue ball gown. Sitting on my pillow. And this time she wasn't happy. She was hunched over her knees, hugging them into her chest, crying softly. Her hair fell about her face and her eyes were sunken in, face gaunt, eerily beautiful. There was a small envelope.

"Mix," I said carefully.

"Yeah?" she asked, flipping through the magazine, not quite reading it, but almost.

"Is that real?" I asked softly, pointing to the figurine.

Mix looked up and threw he glance towards my pillow. She stood, a frown on her face. "Yeah." She shrugged. "Why?"

"Well, my sense of reality and psychosis is fairly mixed up. I just needed to check."

"What is it?" Mix asked.

"It's me." I picked it up, ensuring it was real, and handed it to her.

"How did it get there?"

"I have no idea." I picked up the envelope.

"It's beautiful. So real," Mix said, staring at the figure. "She – you – look so sad. It's awful." Mix put the figure down, as if she couldn't bear to look at it. Her face looked at me, as if she saw a resemblance that hurt her, then looked at the floor.

I opened the envelope; mildly scared that this was trick the Queen was playing. Inside, there was a small note.

It read: I made her as you wished. Unhappy. Is it a true representation now? Did it change anything?

"What does it say?" Mix asked. I passed her the note. "I don't understand. 'Did it change anything?' What does that mean?"

It changed what he thought of me. That's what it changed.

"Giselle, what is this?"

I grabbed the note and the figurine off Mix, and threw them at the wall. The figurine didn't smash; it just fell to the carpet. Mix looked startled. "It's nothing," I told her. "Someone playing a joke."

"It wasn't very funny," Mix said, sinking into the beanbag again.

Yes. That's what it had to be. The Queen. Or Angus. Playing a joke. Messing with me. That's all. It was written like River, but that was impossible. It couldn't happen. He was dead.

That night, I had more nightmares. That had stopped being so frequent and scary, but now they were back in full force. It was mostly images of River and Lilith and Angus. I saw the ballroom and my prince and Jocelyn. The cross was there, as well as the paintings, figurines and daggers. Mostly, it was just memories. When I woke up I felt cold; the pendant at my neck burning me. My body was shaking and my head pounded. I felt like being sick, but didn't want to get up. I didn't go back to sleep until the sun came up.

I'd still been seeing faeries, because I still had the Sight. I guess that was how I knew what happened actually happened. Unless I was crazy and imagining things. I just kept to myself and ignored them. If I pretended I couldn't see them they didn't know any difference. And that worked for me. Most of the time.

It was a couple of weeks later, when again, I'd invited Mix to my house – no one else was home. Except this time it was in the kitchen. Mix had sat up at one of the stools by the bench and I was raiding the fridge. Mix was the first one to see it.

"You want Coke or Pepsi? We also have apple juice," I called from the fridge.

"Pepsi. What's that?"

I leant back from, looking past the door of the fridge. "What?"

"This gold box."

And I saw it.

My golden-opal box. I walked to it, taking it gently from Mix's hands. The last time I'd seen those daggers they'd been imbedded in Angus's fur. Slowly, I opened the box. And there they were. The two beautiful silver-opal daggers. I assumed they'd been washed, because they looked as beautiful as they had when I'd first seen them. I picked each one up, finding the engravings. Underneath the daggers were the leather sheaths.

I spun the blades in my hands, almost tempted to throw it as something, just to see if I was still good.

"What are they? And why are you… how come you can use them?"

"They're daggers. And I learnt how to use them."

"When?" Mix seemed incredulous.

"Um… in France." The figurine was on my bedside table. I'd burnt the note. But I just couldn't throw away the figurine. It was River's artwork. And I just couldn't.

"Well, that's just weird. But who keeps sending you this stuff. Maybe you should tell your mum."

"No," I answered, surprised by how calm I was. "I know who's sending it. It's okay. It's a joke. It's from a… friend." Well, I wouldn't call Lilith or Angus a friend, but whatever.

"There's a note," Mix said, putting her hand in the bottom of the gold box, and pulling out another envelope. She handed it to me and I opened it, ripping the paper slightly.

It read: I retrieved them for you. A memento. Do they scare you?

And I was relieved. Because River couldn't have retrieved them. Not unless Angus had let him. Angus had River's full name, and power over him. I'd been right. It was the Queen or Angus. They wanted me to hurt. To remember.

"What does this one say?" Mix asked. I handed her the note. She shrugged. "You have some weird friends."

No, I wasn't scared. Not at all. I understood the daggers. That's all I needed.

The third time, again Mix was with me. I was beginning to wonder if someone wanted Mix to know something. It was a couple of weeks later and Mix was staying at my house for the night. My parents were out – again. We were just going to watch movies and talk. We were in the lounge, where the TV was, when Mix, and I, both noticed something new. A painting. Above the TV. Where we'd never had any art hanging there before.

"That's beautiful," Mix breathed.

"It's me," I told her. Me. Painted through my window. In the dress.

"The same French friends?" Mix asked.

"Something like that."

"There's another note stuck underneath the frame," she pointed. I walked to the painting, plucked away the envelope and ripped it open.

It read: I watched you that night. Memorised you. Beauty in the purest form. Do you feel beautiful?

I passed the note to Mix before she asked. I wondered why they were doing this. I didn't even mind so much. I was getting things I thought I'd lost. Or never had.

And even though I was sure this wasn't from River, he'd painted this, and made the daggers, and sculpted the figurine. So while the notes meant little, the other things did. So, yes, what he thought of me changed, but I think that was okay.

And yes, in the painting, I did feel beautiful.

The fourth, and I thought, final time, it was in my room. Mix was over again. My parents downstairs. We were getting ready to go out to a restaurant with Adam. I wasn't sure what to wear, and Mix and I were raiding my closet. It was Mix who found it.

"Oh. My. God," she breathed. "This is amazing."

The midnight blue silk of the dress floated over her hands.

"Yeah, I know."

"Where did this come from?"

"France." I almost smiled. It was sort of a joke. Mix passed me the note that was pinned to the corset.

It read: It's yours. Perfect. As only you could be. Does it hurt you?

Yes, it hurt, but I guess I didn't really mind. It was meant to hurt.

That was the last of the gifts. Well, I suppose, not really. But the next part happened a few days later.

It was at school. There was a new guy.

The news of the new guy in town was all over the school. Of course it was. When a new kid came to a town as small as mine it was practically Christmas. Especially for the girls – who were always on the look out for fresh meat. I wasn't interested. I was happy keeping to the little hole I had dug for myself. The thought of school made me feel sick. All the people. All the flirting and testosterone. How was I supposed to deal with that? I had seen so much more and now I was supposed to live a normal human life again. Sure thing. As if. I may have loved River, but somehow I hated him more everyday.

The whispers of the new guy didn't intrigue me, as they would have a year ago. Even Mix talking animatedly to me, didn't really do anything to stir any sort of emotion.

"He's in my history class. And he's so cute. I think he's Middle Eastern. Well, his heritage must be. He has that really nice dark skin. But anyway, we were in history, and he is so smart. He knew, like, all the answers to the questions Miss Rewal gave us. And he's really polite, you know. And even though he is, like, really hot, he's not an arrogant jock or anything. He's actually really nice. He talked to me. Me. Fat, unpopular me. So he must be nice."

"You're not fat," I answered, not really taking in anything Mix had said. I'd been like that since River had died. Mix looked at me with that look I often got. That, you-are-scaring-me-with-your-corpse-like-state-I-think-you-need-to-see-someone-you-are-crazy look. The pursed lips, slight frown and worried face. And the you-going-to-crack-at-any-time face. I got those looks too often.

"This is us," Mix said as we reached our English class. We walked in and found seats near the back. I think this may have been Mix's way of protecting me from teachers, students and jerk-offs. Since when had I needed protection? I was always the charismatic pretty one. The one with charm and wit. People liked me. I had never needed any sort of protection. I was the one who protected and stood up for Mix when the jerk-offs were being… well, jerk-offs. I was always calm and measured. That was when I realised I was still calm and measured. Except this time, I devoid of anything. I was useless.

"Now everyone, I would like to introduce our new student we are all thrilled to have," our teacher began.

"Oh," Mix said excitedly. I didn't even look up. "He's in our class."

"Great," I said, my voice monotone. Mix gave me another you-going-to-snap looks.

"Everyone, this is River Carter," the teacher said. My head snapped up at the name – a knee jerk reaction. I think somewhere in the back of my head I would have know that this couldn't be my River. He was gone. But when I did look up, I think my heart stopped.

He was right there. My River. But he was different. So different. Different to the hideous monster I had grown to love. Different to the gorgeous price I had grown to fear. He was younger than both. Now that I looked at him, my dreams had been very far from the truth. He would only be seventeen or eighteen. Certainly no older. Yet he did have a man's face – square chin, long face, prominent cheekbones – and tall, square body. But he wasn't as perfect as my dream had made him. Sure enough he still had the gorgeous russet skin and bright blue eyes to match the thick black hair. But he wasn't as perfect as my prince was. I liked that. He was more… normal. No, not normal. More human.

I hadn't even realised I was standing until I head Mix hissing, "Giselle! Giselle! What are you doing?"

I moved forward without hesitation.

When River's eye caught mine, he looked at me strangely, cocking his head to the side and studying me with his eyes. "Giselle?" he whispered in his alluring, deep, honey voice. But it wasn't in recognition. It was as if he knew who I was, but couldn't remember where we had met. I froze on the spot. Could he really not remember? Could he really be… human?

"Giselle?" came the teacher's voice. I didn't answer. I was still staring at River. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes," I managed to choke out. "Wait…" I reconsidered. "No. I'm not feeling that well. Do you mind if I go to the sick bay?"

"Um…" I got another one of those don't-snap-on-me looks. "Yes, go ahead." If it had been anyone else, she would've said no.

I got out of the room as quickly as I could. I didn't know where I was going, except away. When I finally stopped, I realised I was having a hard time breathing. Seeing too. Blood was pounding in my ears and my breaths were coming out in gasps. My hands were shaking and my knees collapsed beneath me. I fell onto grass of the school oval, and let the tears run from my eyes. I was still sobbing my heart out when I heard my name. I guess I had missed the footsteps.

"Giselle?" the voice questioned. Immediately I shuddered. This was wrong. River was gone. He shouldn't be here. "Are you all right? Would you like some help?" Before I could answer I was being lifted onto my feet, and into the chest of the human River. He still smelt the same; I inhaled deeply. "We know each other," he said, voice coming from just above my head. It wasn't a question. I nodded anyway. River had his wide arms around me, head rested on mine. But in that moment he pulled me away from him, so I was still encircled in one arm, but the other hand held my face up to his. He looked at me intently, chewing his lip in concentration, just like he had so many times in the library of his mansion, when trying to work out some impossible equation or theory. "Would it be insane if I was to say I had… dreamt of you?" He looked embarrassed.

"No, that would be one of the more sane things I've heard you say," I told him, humour not really working in this instance.

"I feel like I've spent a lot of time with you. I know you well." River's brow creased. "You have a family. Mother, father and older brother. Your best friend is Mix. I think that was why I was attracted to her in history. I knew her somehow. And I keep seeing… well… I keep seeing you in a midnight blue dress in a ballroom. A… rose, above your head. But you are a little blurred. I just don't understand…" River trailed off in frustration. "And… I keep seeing images of… daggers?" River seemed to be talking more to himself than me. "And there was a song. Played on the piano."

"I spent months with you," I told him. "I know that… in the past, you were impatient, bad tempered, quick to judge and very vain. You were rich. Set to inherit…a kingdom. But… something went wrong. I'm a little sketchy on the details but I think you were – for want of a better word – cursed." River looked at me blankly. I noticed we were still embraced. As if we had know each other for a long time.

"I grew up in a town just south of this one with my mother," River said softly.

"You remember nothing? The mansion? The piano? The dinners?" I asked desperately. Maybe I had truly gone insane. Maybe none of this ever happened. No, my family had thought I was in France for months on exchange. It had definitely happened. So how come this River, the one who chewed his lip when he was thinking, and held me like he loved me, was so human. So young. So normal.

"I remember some," River said, still thinking. "I've had these dreams since I was a child. Dreams of you, of a mansion, of a cross and huge garden. Of a dress and piano with a rose. But mostly, the dreams were dancing with you. But these dreams, they were always… hazy. As if I were looking through water… or an opaque piece of glass."

"Like a painting?" I asked. At that River's eyes focused on me.

"Yes. Very much like a painting. In fact… I have painted these things. Often. I would wake and paint. Seeing you."

"Something happened," I said, trying to piece it together somehow. Had I just gone crazy? I didn't understand.

"You're beautiful," River said, touching my face.

"We need to see the Queen."

Jasper Park was all I knew of the Natsu Court, so that's where River – human River – and I ended up. Enda, the tiny bat-like sprite, met us at the edge of the park.

"Queen Lilith is waiting," she said in my ear, flittering to my shoulder.

"I figured," I muttered.

"I will take you," Enda said. She eyed River, and his hand on my waist. "I'm Enda," she told him.

"River," he told the little faery.

"Yes," she nodded.

Enda didn't have to take us far. The Queen – in all her wicked lovely beauty – was sitting in the crook of a tree. Kial, the faery that had injected me with the Sight, was standing beside her on her left. Angus, was on her right, in faery form, his hound features all too scary. The Queens porcelain skin danced and her braids seemed to float. She was wearing a black spider silk dress that made her look so startling ashen I could have sworn her glow was pulsating.

"You found him, Giselle," she said, voice bittersweet.

"This wasn't ever about me. It was about him."

"Until it became about you." She looked me up and down. "It became about you when he fell in love with you."

"So what now?" I asked. "Why did you send me those things? Why did you send him back?"

"Because I'm not as sadistic as you think I am. He's served me for too many years. I get tired. And he deserves something. He's learnt his lesson. So I've given him back to you."

"He isn't how I remember him."

"He's how I remember him."

"And my memories?" River asked. His hand was still on the small of my back. I felt like he was trying to protect me.

"You can have them back. If you want them."

River looked at me. "Do I want them back?"

"You were so full of guilt, though. I'm not sure."

"But it was the previous me you fell for. Right?"

"I suppose…"

River put his other hand on my waist and pulled me close. "Then I want my memories back. My real memories."

"You don't even know me," I said, looking away.

"But I know that I love you. That's all I need to know."

"That's stupid."

Then River kissed me. He held me gently and kissed me chastely. "I've done enough to you. I want to do something for you."

"Then it's settled," the Queen said, smiling. "You get your memories back."

It seemed as if nothing happened. Then River gripped me. River held me so tightly I could hardly breath. He put his face into the crook of my neck, breathing deeply.

"Will you ever forgive me? For everything I've done to you?"

"Of course," I answered automatically.

"You don't even know what you are forgiving, do you?" River asked, looking at me.

"It doesn't matter."

"It does. Everything I put you through. Everything I put all those girls through. It was evil and vindictive."

"You never hurt me," I reasoned. "You were good to me."

"Physically, yeah. But mentally, I knew what I was doing was wrong. It just… when I was cursed… I lost so much humanity. I forgot love and life. I forgot most human emotion. I was a monster. It was only you – so vibrant, confident and beautiful – that made me feel things again."

"River," I whispered. "No more."

"I've given enough," Queen Lilith said. "Angus and Kial returned your things, Giselle, and I've given you River. I think you can leave. I'm tired."

It was River who steered me away from the court as fast as he could.

When we got home together, Mix was waiting at my doorstep.

"Are you okay?" She started talking fast. "You left, and you were crazy, and River followed you. God, I was so freaked. I didn't know where to go, and then-"

"Mix. Relax. I'm fine. We're both fine." I unlocked the door and let the three of us in.

Mix eyed how River was touching me and asked, "What the hell happened?"

"A few things," I shrugged.

"Giselle?" she questioned.

"You know the Queen wants her to know, right?" River told me.

"I guessed," I said. We walked into the kitchen.

"I'll be waiting for you in your room," he said to me. "Tell her." Then River kissed me once softly, and left the room, touching my hand. I turned back to Mix.

"What is going on?" she asked, sounding annoyed. "You're depressed one day, then you meet River and you're fine. Now you're talking about magic and whatever. What the hell is going on?"

"Well, you remember that time when I went into the mansion?"

"Yeah, it was just after you went to France."

"Well… not quite."

"What do you mean?"

"It happened quite a few months earlier."

"How?"

"Remember when you told me about that faery in the mansion that took young girls as slaves and destroyed memories of their family and friends?"

"Yeah…" Mix looked hesitant.

"Well… that isn't so far from the truth. You, see, Mix, you know the old fey myths?"

"Yeah…" Now she looked scared.

"They aren't so mythical…"

And my story began. Again.