Briar Rose

by Jana Oliver

  Joshua fell next to her, a knife at his neck.

  ‘Please get them out of there!’ she begged.

  ‘They’re accursed fata lovers,’ one of the guards said, and then spat. ‘They’ll learn what it’s like to care for the regent’s enemies.’ Then he laughed. ‘Trust me, soon you’ll wish you were down there with them.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I should have made Briar go home.

  Joshua had never felt so powerless. It’d all gone wrong. Pat and Reena were probably badly injured, perhaps even dead, while he and Briar were being marched to the regent and whatever gruesome death that lunatic felt they deserved.

  It was a true nightmare on steroids, something right out of the Brothers Grimm. Those two had always gone for the darker tales, like the one where a queen’s feet were clamped into red hot iron shoes, and she was forced to dance herself to death. Or the one where a father had to chop off his daughter’s hands so the devil wouldn’t carry her off.

  They’d love this tale.

  Reena had been right – the curse was changing and adapting. It was a chess game with no rules and all the pieces were on the other side. How could they defeat something like that?

  Joshua thought of his family, his hometown. What if four of Bliss’s teens died in their sleep? How would the reporters spin that one? The town would become infamous.

  Enough. He was shovelling fuel to his fears and that only made them stronger. Joshua gritted his teeth and tried to clear his head as best he could. Coldly evaluating their chances of escape told him the odds sucked. There were too many guards, all armed, and all motivated to keep the regent happy.

  He gave Briar a quick glance. Her eyes were wide and her breath was coming in little gasps, proving she was as freaked as he was. Even if Pat and Reena had been with them, they couldn’t fight back. The only option was to meet with the regent, try to reason with her.

  That was a plan doomed to fail. This was a tyrant who had a guy’s throat slit just because she could. Appealing to the regent’s sense of fairness was like trying to explain to a ravenous tiger that you’d not make a tasty snack.

  As they were led through the streets, Joshua expected the same boos and rotten fruit the fata had received. There were none. Instead, there were whispers and, occasionally, Ruric’s name was mentioned. No one came to their aid. What would it take for these people to fight for their freedom?

  The instant they crossed under the castle’s portcullis Joshua sensed the sting of cold magic pass through his body like an electrical charge.

  ‘Whoa,’ he said. ‘Did you feel that?’

  Briar nodded. Her mind kept replaying the desperate look in Pat’s eyes, how he’d let go of her hand rather than pulling her down into the well with him. He might be an arrogant jerk, but he had a good soul.

  If he and Reena were dead, those last few seconds would haunt her for however many days she had left in this life. Considering who they were about to meet, it couldn’t be that many.

  When viewed from the outside, the fortress seemed immensely large, threatening even, but from the inside it wasn’t as impressive. The majority of the regent’s servants were twisted half-human creations, part flesh, part metal. The metal didn’t mesh well with the skin, but burrowed into it like some sort of ravenous parasite. A young girl hurried by, one side of her face swollen and oozing a thick silver fluid. Her one eye was completely metal and it swivelled in its socket.

  ‘Is that what’s going to happen to us?’ Briar whispered.

  ‘No. Nothing like that,’ Joshua replied as he winced at the sight. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.’

  He is so lying.

  ‘Now that’s hospitality for you,’ he said, angling his head towards a line of eight wooden poles placed along one side of the courtyard. Severed heads decorated each one of them, and crows perched on a few, tearing pieces of flesh away with their sharp beaks.

  ‘Oh, gross,’ Briar said. She looked away, her stomach roiling.

  ‘There’s some good news – your friend isn’t one of them.’

  She sighed in relief. ‘Thanks.’ He’d saved her the stomach-emptying task of checking each head herself. It meant Ruric might still be alive and that gave her hope.

  They were led inside the castle proper, up a short flight of stone stairs, then into a vast chamber. The sight of it took Briar’s breath away. The walls were stone, no doubt part of the original castle’s design. A vaulted ceiling rose high above them, each roof support clad in shiny brass. The floor was constructed of the same metal, with an intricate pattern of wheels nestled within wheels. Situated in the centre of the biggest wheel sat a throne, of sorts. It wasn’t one in the traditional sense, but an elevated platform with pikes of brass and iron arrayed in a semi-circle round the seat.

  It spoke of power and of something else. Sanctuary, perhaps? As Briar stood, transfixed, she swore she could hear the room breathing, assessing them to determine if they were friend or foe.

  ‘Go on,’ one of the guards said, and gave them a shove towards the front of the chamber.

  Once they were closer to the throne, they were ordered down on their knees.

  ‘Is this the part where you try on the glass slipper?’ Joshua said under his breath.

  Briar couldn’t stop the grin. If this had been anyone else but Joshua, she would have hugged him in thanks.

  She felt the regent’s presence before she saw her, like a river of ice water coursing through the marrow of her bones. The ruler crossed the chamber with silent steps in a dark black dress. Her mask was in place, but this time Briar could see her dull brown hair, plaited in short braids that reached her collar. The woman was taller than her by several inches and she moved oddly.

  Briar let loose a cry of recognition at the figure behind her.

  ‘Ruric!’

  He observed her solemnly, but did not reply.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  Still no reply.

  What has she done to you?

  When the regent took her place on the throne, she revealed her feet, which were clad in leather boots with peculiar buckles. Despite her height, her feet didn’t reach the floor.

  ‘Why have you come to my kingdom, child?’ the regent demanded. The voice was deeper than Briar expected, like that of a heavy smoker.

  ‘I was sent here by a curse,’ she replied.

  ‘Who laid this curse?’

  Joshua shifted uneasily next to her.

  ‘I don’t know. I just want to go back home.’

  ‘If you wish to leave, why do you side with my enemies?’

  ‘We . . . felt sorry for the creature,’ Joshua jumped in. ‘We did not mean to anger you.’

  What is he doing? Playing to her sympathy was a waste of time.

  ‘Why are you in my kingdom, boy?’

  He gave Briar a look. ‘I came to get her.’

  Which still didn’t make any sense to Briar.

  ‘What of the others in your lawless band?’ the ruler asked.

  ‘The same.’

  The copper face turned in her direction. ‘Who are you to warrant such attention?’

  Briar really didn’t have answer for that, so she shrugged. ‘I’m just lucky, I guess.’

  ‘Or you are very important. But you are not this man’s cousin, as you claim,’ she said, indicating the silent Ruric. ‘He admitted as much.’

  ‘No, I am not.’

  The regent leaned closer now. ‘I smell magic on you. Perhaps your father is a sorcerer?’

  Magic? Me? Maybe it was the curse she was sensing.

  ‘What is your ransom worth?’ the ruler asked. ‘How much gold or silver will your family pay for your freedom?’

  ‘She can buy her freedom with a bracelet of finest silver,’ Joshua said.

  It took a moment for Briar to catch on, and she nodded energetically. ‘Yes, I can.’

  As the regent shifted on her throne, an earthy odour struck Briar’s nose, one that spoke of caves and soi
l and no sunshine.

  She held up her wrist, displaying the bracelet. ‘In exchange for this rare bracelet made of silver, you will let us go.’ She realized she hadn’t been specific enough. ‘That means me, my friends and Ruric.’

  He maintained his silence, staring at her as if he had no idea who she was.

  What has she done to you?

  ‘Silver, you say?’ the regent said, her voice huskier now as she rose from the throne. A few steps forward and her gloved hand secured Briar’s arm. The masked face moved even closer, inspecting the bracelet, a strange sniffing noise coming from behind the metal. ‘Yes, it is silver. Such workmanship. What metalworker crafted it?’

  ‘An old family in our kingdom, Your Grace,’ Joshua replied, his voice silken. ‘They are highly . . . regarded.’

  Nice apple polish.

  ‘I can take it off, put it on your arm,’ Briar offered. Anything to get this thing to step away from her.

  Before she could move, the regent’s free hand reached out to touch the bracelet. When the gloved fingers closed round it, there was a fat, crackling spark as rivulets of magic flew along the bracelet’s length and into each of the charms.

  The regent shrieked and lurched backwards, grasping her hand in pain.

  ‘Foul sorcery!’ she cried.

  The blow struck Briar’s face before she could duck, and sent her reeling away across the smooth floor.

  ‘You bitch!’ Joshua cried, trying to wiggle free of the hands that pinned him in place. ‘Let me go!’

  Even before Briar’s head stopped spinning, she sat up, if only to show Joshua she wasn’t badly injured. When she gingerly touched the side of her face, it was numb and her fingers came away slick with blood from the cut on her mouth. She’d never been hit in her life and it gave her a new fear on which to gnaw.

  The regent was back on her throne now, her hands clenched like claws.

  ‘You would have cast a spell upon me. That was a mistake.’ She gestured and Ruric instantly moved forward. ‘Show her what you have become.’

  On command, he pulled back the sleeve of his shirt. Metal had flowed over the flesh on his arm as if he’d been dipped in silver. Once the process was complete, he would be one of the regent’s elite warriors, human no more.

  ‘I am hers now,’ he said, his voice barely a whisper. ‘I pray for death, but it does not come.’

  ‘Ohmigod,’ Briar exclaimed. ‘Why are you doing this to your people?’

  ‘My enemies would destroy me,’ the ruler replied. ‘I cannot let them do so.’

  ‘The fata, you mean? How could they hurt you?’

  ‘They and I cannot exist in the same world. They would destroy my metal and that would make me weak. I shall never be that way again.’

  The regent gestured. ‘Bring the boy forward. Let him pay for her arrogance.’

  ‘No!’ Briar tried to grab at Joshua, but he was dragged to the throne. Then he was on his knees again.

  She couldn’t let him get hurt. ‘Look, we’re sorry for what we’ve done,’ she began, ‘but maybe we can work something out.’

  ‘Watch in sorrow as one of your own becomes mine.’

  ‘No, don’t you dare—’ Briar called out, but the regent had already seized hold of Joshua’s throat. As he struggled, a torrent of unintelligible words flowed from the small mouth-opening on the mask, and the overwhelming smell of dirt and metal shavings filled the chamber.

  Though Briar thrashed against her captor, she couldn’t get to Joshua. When the spell ended, he was on his knees, glistening tears running down his reddened cheeks.

  ‘Joshua?’ Please be OK. Don’t let him be like Ruric.

  ‘Show her, boy. Show her who owns you now.’

  With a grumbled oath, Joshua pushed away his shirt. Briar had expected to see herself reflected in the silver, but instead the skin was only faintly red. There was no metal.

  She gaped in wonder. How did you do that?

  The regent lurched backwards in surprise. ‘What shield keeps my magic at bay? Is it the same as hers?’

  ‘Yes,’ Joshua said, shooting Briar a sidelong glance. ‘You just need to let us go. Your metal can’t harm us.’

  Their enemy pondered on that for a time, then waved them away. ‘Take the prisoners to the pit. We will see if your magic is stronger than mine when darkness falls and the metal reigns supreme.’

  As she was roughly yanked to her feet, Briar tried one more time to reach her friend. ‘Ruric? You have to fight her. Don’t give in.’

  ‘It is too late,’ he said, his voice but a whisper. ‘I am sorry.’

  As she and Joshua were marched out of the chamber, Briar took one last look over her shoulder. Ruric was on his knees in front of his ruler now, his head bowed in reverence.

  Like she’s a god or something.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Though the drop into the well had been horrifying enough, the sudden dunking into the chilly water was a brutal wake-up call. Reena clawed herself to the surface, gasping and coughing as bubbles rose around her. Next to her came a huge splash as Pat did the same.

  After another round of coughing, she called out. ‘Josh? Briar?’

  Only Pat’s laboured breathing returned. Just them, then. ‘You OK?’ she asked.

  ‘Hell, no,’ he spluttered.

  Though it was hard to see in the limited light that wormed its way around the broken boards high above them, Reena groped along until she found the side of the well. The stone was cold to the touch and slick with moss. She worked round in a circle, hoping to find a place where there might be a ladder or a foothold that would allow them to climb out. If they remained in the water too much longer, hypothermia would claim them.

  When she’d just about given up hope, she found a flat section of stone built into the wall. She didn’t know why it was there, but it would give them a place to rest. She made her way back to where Pat was weakly treading water. Reena grabbed on to his damaged shirt and tugged.

  ‘This way, dude,’ she said.

  With effort, they beached themselves on the damp stone. There they lay, trying to regain their breath as the chilly air sent shivers down their spines.

  ‘Now what?’ Pat said as he rolled on his back. ‘How do we get out of here?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  As she waited for her vision to adjust to the dim surroundings, Reena remembered the skeleton key and frantically dug for it under her sodden clothes.

  No key. No way home.

  When her fingers closed round it, she sighed in profound relief. Unfortunately she had left the canvas bag full of herbs and roots on the surface, but maybe she’d find more somehow.

  From what she could see, the well wasn’t like the ones at home, but had an elaborate set of stairs cut into the sides that wound all the way to the top. They were composed of smooth, weathered stone, as if countless feet had trodden them over the years. The flat area they were lying on was probably where the locals knelt to fetch their water.

  ‘Hey, look. We got steps,’ she said, pointing. ‘We can get out of here once you’re ready.’

  ‘Good. Give me a minute,’ Pat said, but his voice sounded off.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘My arm hurts,’ he replied, which for a guy meant it was somewhere between a bump and a compound fracture.

  Before she could follow up on that, a colourful face came close to hers, causing Reena to start in surprise. It was one of the fata, who had no notion of personal space. It twittered at her in a high-pitched voice that was almost out of her hearing range.

  ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying,’ she said.

  Then, suddenly, she did.

  Come, now, it said, beckoning with yellow hands.

  ‘No. We have to go help our friends.’

  Gone, it said, looking upward sadly.

  ‘The guards got them?’

  A nod.

  ‘What’s it want? Can it get us out of here?’ Pat asked.


  ‘I don’t know.’

  They both rose with some effort, all the aches registering now. With a groan, Pat stared up at the top of the well and shook his head in disbelief.

  ‘We fell that far? It must be two miles at least.’

  A bit of an exaggeration, but she was good with it.

  Instead of leading them up to the surface, one of the fata extended its arms towards the water and issued a single melodic tone. It reminded Reena of birdsong, but even richer, if that were possible. Gradually the water level began to change, lowering some ten feet or so. As it receded, it exposed more stairs.

  The creature beckoned to them and, though Reena wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, she followed along.

  Pat didn’t budge. ‘No way. I’m not going any deeper into this thing.’

  The fatas began to chitter in agitation and she caught their concern in the tangle of voices.

  ‘They say it is too dangerous to go up right now.’

  Pat cradled his right arm to his chest, his face pale. ‘How do we know they’re not lying to us? How do we know we can trust them?’

  Before Reena could argue, one of the fata marched over to him, waving a thin green finger at him. Once it had his attention, it pointed downward.

  ‘Nope. Not going. You can’t make me,’ he said defiantly.

  A teal foot lashed out and caught Pat squarely on the knee. He yelped and as he reached down to check for damage the hand grabbed his uninjured arm and tugged him along. He tried to break free, but got nowhere, skidding over the stones. ‘Hey, this thing is really strong.’

  Reena grinned. ‘Then don’t be a jerk. We need to find out what’s going on and they might have some answers.’

  One of the beings shyly took hold of her hand. Its skin was soft, like delicate silk, and a curious shade of pumpkin orange.

  He does not trust us, the fata said in her mind.

  ‘I don’t think he trusts anyone,’ Reena murmured back. ‘Will our friends be all right?’