By the time morning came Aurum was still in a daze. She hadn’t fallen asleep, her thoughts a mess. She sat still as a stature, not noticing the lightening sky as she kept staring into the fire, the memories grasping at her and holding her in place. If the cottage tried to speak to her again, she did not notice. The thing that ultimately broke the spell was Alice as she came out of her room, the sound of the door closing and Alice’s quiet footsteps startling Aurum into looking up.

She is still moving stiffly, but it’s much better than before, Aurum noted automatically, watching as Alice sat gingerly at the kitchen table. She sat very still, facing Aurum, keeping her eyes trained on the bookshelf behind her. Aurum wanted to laugh at her transparent attempt to seem nonchalant even as she was obviously tracking Aurum’s every movement. She looks tired. Perhaps she hasn’t gotten much sleep either. The thought was oddly comforting – if Alice was unsettled by last night, then they were at least on a more even footing. It certainly didn’t make sense for a minion of the witch to be upset about their conversation.

It doesn’t make sense for a minion of the witch to have acted anything like Alice has, and you know that, a voice whispered in Aurum’s head, chiding her, a voice that sounded an awful lot how she imagined the cottage’s would. Whatever she is, she is not an enemy. You know that much.

Aurum shook off the thought and tried to harden her heart. She needed to remember that there was no use for anything but extreme caution in this situation. She had already let her guard down once here, and it had ended with a shocking declaration and a revelation that Alice had been lying – or at least, that she had not been honest. Aurum couldn’t afford to weaken her resolve against trusting Alice now, not with the entire kingdom at stake. She had already risked so much just by admitting her own deception to Alice.

Nevertheless, even though she had decided to run again, to leave Alice, Aurum did not get up. Wrestling with her conflicted feelings, Aurum sat in the chair for a long time, Alice sitting across the room from her, ever vigilant. Eventually, as the sunlight turned bright and cheery, signaling midday, Alice stirred. She stood slowly and carefully. Aurum turned to watch her. Alice was moving as though she was concerned she might frighten a wild animal in front of her, her movements subtle and unobtrusive. She practically tip-toed to get the kettle, filling it with water as quietly as she could. Aurum stared openly at her antics, finding herself wanting to laugh despite the situation at hand. As if there was any way Alice being quiet would prevent Aurum from leaving.

“What are you doing?”

Alice jumped at the question, spilling water all over the floor and wincing in obvious discomfort as the motion clearly aggravated her injury. Big dark eyes looked at Aurum plaintively. She looked so much like a disappointed puppy that Aurum almost imagined dropping ears and a tail on her.

“I’m going to leave,” Aurum said, as much to herself as to puppy-Alice.

Alice’s throat worked as she obviously struggled to come up with a response. “You – you should – you can’t leave.”

“I certainly can,” Aurum replied in a dangerously low voice, no longer amused. “If you are going to try and stop me, you are making yourself my enemy. I don’t know what you really are, but I was going to leave you be since you’ve helped me, and I put you in danger. But if you get in my way, I can’t pretend you aren’t a threat.”

Alice closed her eyes and shook her head. “No, no, you should leave. But not yet. You aren’t ready, and you haven’t met the hero yet. You need his help to fight the witch.”

“I told you to stop telling me your predictions.” Aurum was angry now, and she knew no small part of why was the implication that she needed help. It was ridiculous to be told by this madwoman that she needed to find an unnamed man to help her fight the witch – useless and ridiculous.  Aurum was alone, and she needed to find a way to fight the witch alone, and that was that. Alice promising her help based on her foolish delusions when there was no help was insulting and frustrating. “You either don’t know what you are talking about or you are trying to lie to me. Neither will do me any good. Don’t you understand? This is all too important for me to risk trusting you, much less for me to entertain your wild story.”

Alice winced, falling silent. Wordlessly, she refilled the kettle, still moving slowly but no longer in the odd way she had before, rather as though she was trying to move without aggravating her back. The silence dragged on, Aurum still not moving – why am I still here? I should have already left – and Alice going about preparing tea and porridge. It was as though she thought if she pretended it were a normal day she could undo all of yesterday.

Finally, she finished making the tea and looked directly at Aurum, two mugs on the kitchen table with two bowls for the porridge that was bubbling in a pot. She took a deep breath.

“I know you don’t trust me or believe me. That’s – that’s fine. But I swear I can help you, and I’ve been completely honest with you. You know this is dangerous. And you can use any help you can find. And even if you don’t believe my story, please believe in everything that’s happened up until now. I was wrong to stay, but please believe I don’t want to harm you. Please, if you are going to leave, take me with you so I can help you.”

Alice let out a shaky sigh. “I shouldn’t have interfered. I was selfish, and that’s why everything is so complicated now. It’s my fault. Please let me try and make it right.”