by Jessa Lucas
“No longer will you hold power over anyone,” Valtronya said. “No longer will you seduce with filthy lies and take lovers from my bed. Come now, tell me how beautiful I am.”
The queen smiled, and the image faded.
“Oh my god,” I said, turning back to Aiayla. I silently swore to never be as much of an asshole about the rhyming as I knew I’d want to be.
“More, milady,” she nodded, motioning back to the fountain, “for that was of me, your story now if you wish to see.”
I reluctantly turned back to the water to see it warp once more. New images scattered upon the surface. When the water stilled, it was the queen again, this time accompanied by two odd looking men. They were rather opposite; where one was tall and thin with a large hooked nose and balding head, the other was short and squat with a bowl cut and a long rucksack tunic like a monk.
These were not the queen’s quarters from the first vision. Here the walls were dark and grimy, as if a slick condensation glazed the surface of each stone. A single rudimentary chandelier hung from the domed ceiling, a circle fitted with stubby candles. There were no windows to offer other light, but across the chamber I recognized the gilded frame of the mirror which now held Aiayla’s soul.
“It is done,” Valtronya said to the men. “But now the difficulty of his daughter remains.”
The shorter one chimed in with a chattery, high pitched voice, “But surely the princess does not pose a lofty thr—”
“The princess is one of her kind,” Valtronya thrust her finger toward the Reflection. “You remember my sister from our previous meetings, yes? I’m happy to say the last decade has tempered her some.”
The taller one inclined his head morosely, but the other seemed to be the mouthpiece for the two of them. His words were slimy, as though he were always salivating. “Yes, yes, yes, we will never forget that night, Queen, the night our lady conjured the forbidden fruit and showed the full power of her capabilities. Pray tell why you have called the Grimms back into your presence?”
“As a symbol of your loyalty,” Valtronya answered, “I ask for your help disposing of the girl… discretely.”
“You know we are loyal to you only, yes Queen, but we wonder,” the stout one glanced up at his lanky brother, “if mayhap your private contempt of the siren presents weakness in your authority. The princess is dearly loved.”
“You did not see her as I did, Wivhelm, the night her powers woke!” the queen snarled. “My disgust is irrelevant. Such wretches are dangerous to people and dominions alike, and I will not have one in my courts, royal or not.”
Valtronya took to pacing, her fingers knit together as if she were contemplating her options.
“Ah, Queenie,” Wivhelm said with a twisted smile. “We see your plan don’t we, don’t we, Ja-kov? Yes, yes, we understand. With your powers and our imaginations, there are endlessly creative ways to get rid of a seductive princess… to maim… yes, yes, so many of her parts could make good profit on the black market...”
I had to lift a hand to my mouth to keep from throwing up. After the gore of Aiayla’s severed wings, my imagination had no problem picturing what a bunch of for-sale siren parts might look like.
The queen, though momentarily considering the prospect, did not seem convinced by the offer. “Her father fell to madness within a single bite of that apple. Perhaps she is susceptible to iron as well.”
“No wonder you called on us,” Wivhelm smiled, “You lack imagination. You must do greater things than those which inspired you yesterday. Besides, fae blooded or not, it would take a great deal of exposure for a siren to even be weakened by iron.”
Valtronya smiled at the Reflection.
“Mirror, mirror hanging there, tell me truly— if you dare— how to kill one such as you—”
Before Aiayla could answer, the tall, silent one opened his mouth and stuttered: “Y-y-y-ou cannot kill her.”
“What?” The queen turned back to him, her skirts swaying.
Wivhelm sighed. “Yes, yes, Ja-kov is right. Besides-besides, always a far easier answer to slay, but far more worthwhile to punish, no?”
“I want to stamp them out!” Valtronya shrieked. “I do not want to know she exists anywhere in this world, that she can thieve any man she likes from the bed of his lover, that she can—”
I took an unwilled step back from the fountain as I watched her tirade abruptly lose steam, awed by the jealous rage this woman contained. It terrified me to realize that I’d known her once.
“They are a virus, Wivhelm,” she finally said in a deadly whisper.
“Milady,” he answered, bowing his head in apology. “Yes, yes, I understand exactly what you mean. But killing a siren is very difficult… very difficult indeed… there are magical repercussions, a strict method for success… it is all very sordid and messy. Besides, as Ja-kov means to say, imagine the only heir, vanishing after her father is driven mad? The kingdom would be in uproar! You would have no immunity in the political narrative, regardless of what could be proved.”
Valtronya continued her pacing, her lips a thin red line of fury as she evaluated the Grimms’ logic. The Reflection eyed the scene curiously from the background, tendrils of white-blonde hair dancing around her face.
“Might I suggest this,” Wivhelm lifted his finger, forcing a light tone that reeked of apprehension. “Make an announcement that you are sending the princess off to the finest school to prepare her to take her father’s place. Hold a trial for those who wish to escort her, and invite all eligible and willing men from the Five Realms. You send her off, Queenie, with public celebration so that ill intentions are overshadowed by your transparency in allowing the participation of the people.”
“When she does not return?”
“By then you will have such great power, my Queen, yes, yes, their concern for themselves will surpass their concern for the princess,” Wivhelm smiled, and for the first time I got a good view of his nasty yellow teeth.
The queen’s nostrils flared and she finally sighed. “And what of Saylorabel, if we are not to kill her?”
“Saylorabel will sleep.”
“People wake from sleep,” Valtronya snapped.
“Not always, Queen. Not when the dreams are so real that they would never think to wake.”
“How long can your dreams last?” she asked, a cruel thoughtfulness coming to the tone of her voice.
“We can make the sleep deep-deep, but we never promise such things as duration. That much depends on the person. Though… yes, yes, your idea of using iron might work after all. It could weaken her power to break the sleep.”
“If we can’t kill the little wretch, I want every fortification put in place to ensure she is as good as dead.” Queen Valtronya walked the length of the room with long strides and a smooth gait, dark black skirts trailing after her. “We shall have her placed in the Tower of Abduult above the Black Mines her father was dragged from. Is there anything, Wivhelm, which could increase the power of the iron tenfold?”
“Elements affect other elements,” Wivhelm mused. “Yes, oh yes, mayhap the moon or the stars. An eclipse!” he piped suddenly, hands flashing in the air.
“Yes,” she said impatiently, “and when is the next one?”
“Let me see, let me see,” Wivhelm muttered, withdrawing a long pamphlet of paper which unfolded down from his hands and spilled across the floor with a mild clack. “Yes... mmm, mmm... ah! Forty-nine years and eleven months from now.”
“So long?”
Wivhelm consulted his papers again, “It is the only full eclipse in the next century. The only one with the power to weaken her enough that once it passed over her, she would never wake.”
“Fifty years before we are certain, and at any point she could wake up with strong enough will— your dreams are the best in the land, but pardon me if I am unwilling to underestimate a siren.”
“We will craft a good dream,” Wivhelm smiled, wiggling his eyebrows, “Promises, Queeni
e.”
“It is not enough. I want more than that.” Her ruby red lips pursed, her nostrils flaring again. “Perhaps… yes. I have just the curse.”
Wivhelm began to babble while Valtronya remained lost in her deep malicious thoughts. “All curses have perimeters. Outs. A time limit, a loop hole, something. You can build it in, or let Fate decide it. Tricky business, letting Fate choose. Often the mistake that novices make—”
“Do not speak to me as if I am your apprentice, Wivhelm. I outgrew your expertise in this area long ago!”
“Forgive me, Queen,” Wivhelm bowed his head.
“Seven watchmen immune to her powers,” Valtronya mused. “They will guard her day and night, and should Saylorabel wake, well… she must love a man and he her in return, before the moon passes over the sun, or…” she smiled to herself.
“Ahh, very clever my queen. And the watchmen?”
“Oh, they are never to be released, they would be too culpable. They will share her fate when she never wakes or fails to break my curse,” Valtronya waved a hand as if the men were of little concern to her.
She waltzed to her sister in the mirror and cocked her head at Aiayla, considering her ethereal form. She reached out a hand as slid it across the glass, as if stroking her sister’s face.
“Yes,” she said, seemingly to herself. “Let the newborn siren’s powers seduce and destroy her in both life and dream. Mirror mirror,” she said to the Reflection, “hanging here… whose power of beauty will more fear?”
The Reflection swallowed before replying, “Beautiful though my sister older, the young siren’s power is still far bolder.”
“Make sure, Wivhelm, that it is one nightmare of a dream.” Valtronya turned away from her sister to expose the full scale of her wrath to the Grimms, her perfect white teeth bared in a vengeful smile. “Let us see if a siren can be saved by love.”
The vision in the pool faded and I turned back to Aiayla, a frown knit between my brows. "But I didn't find him. I didn't find 'love.’”
The Reflection stared back at me, something like vague sadness in her eyes. "The curse is not yet broken."
"But I'm awake," I said, putting a hand on my hip. “That’s how it works in the stories. The spell is broken when you wake up!”
"You heard the curse, you heard what was spoken. Trapped are you still, though you have woken."
"What do you mean ‘trapped’?"
And then it dawned on me. I turned on my heel instantly and ran towards the doorway, making my way through the labyrinth halls and winding down the spiral stairs until I saw the main entrance to the tower. The front doors were two stories high and as I reached my fingers for the handle, a spark of power ignited between my skin and the door.
"What the—“ I murmured, trying again. This time I pushed past the spark as it ripped into my body with a sharp pulsating, but even when I grabbed the doorknob it wouldn't budge.
I released my grip immediately, saving myself the physical pain. It was pointless. We were still trapped in Abduult.
My breath began pounding against my lungs. Was this hyperventilating? Was this a panic attack? I couldn't be stuck in a tower with five men I didn't know! I couldn't be stuck in a fantasy land I was responsible for saving…!
By the time they found me, I was draped across my knees, the floor seeming to sink into me and I into it.
"Princess?"
"Saylora?"
"The doors are locked," was all I could manage. "They're locked, we can't get out."
"Impossible," Jabari muttered, but as he tried the test I'd just failed, his hand, too, pulled away in pain and failure.
"Gods above," Gilles muttered.
"And below," Dash finished darkly.
"What is this?" Sy sauntered into the entry way, observing the five of us with a stolid gaze.
"The doors are locked, Sy. We’re still trapped here."
"Check the back exits and any of the paths out we found through the mines. Go."
The four around me scattered, but I remained on the floor, dazed.
What was I supposed to believe in— the world where I ruled an entire kingdom but was cursed by an evil queen, held captive and unconscious for nearly fifty years? Or the world where I’d burned all that I'd had to the ground, leaving myself with nothing and no one, only ash and disaster in my wake? Which of the two did I even want to be real?
A hand entered my line of vision and I looked up. Sy was offering his palm to me. I moved my eyes up to him, trying to keep the disloyal tears from invading my eyes. After a moment, I lifted my hand to meet his, but he didn’t try to pull me up and I didn't try to rise. Instead he just held my hand tight.
"I don't know what's real," I said to him.
"I know," he answered quietly.
I finally sighed and used his weight to pull myself from the ground.
Dash returned first, breathing heavily. "They are all locked, Sy. Nothing has changed.”
Sy nodded and moved forward with a rapid gait, dropping my hand. It fell back to my side and I hugged my arms into my torso. So cold in this damn tower.
Sy led us all back to the chamber I'd come from: the chamber of secrets and starlight. Her reflection was waiting.
"What is this?" Dash demanded. "Why are we still unable to leave?”
"The princess has not yet broken the curse, and come the eclipse a dire situation shall be made worse..."
"What do you mean!"
"How does she break it, then?"
"Silence." Sy held up a hand and addressed the Reflection. "What happens, if we cannot get out of the tower before the eclipse?"
"Reality shall the princess's dream become, unless against this curse is victory won."
"I thought sleep was the curse!" Dash spat.
My brain was spinning. I felt certain there was a reason the Reflection didn't elaborate, why she didn't say that I was supposed to fall in love. Why she left it up to me... the only able-bodied woman in a tower full of men. She gazed on at me meaningfully, like it was our secret to keep.
I was going to be sick.
"How long until the eclipse?"
"A fortnight."
Holy shit. Two weeks? What kind of bullshit was this, being forced to fall in love in order to secure my freedom? On Earth I'd been into a little thing called feminism, which apparently evil queens had never fucking heard of.
"Time might not be on our side, but we will figure this out," Jude said, stepping next to me. I could feel his body heat feather against me as his hand hung millimeters from my own. "Saylora is awake now, and maybe this is the key. Maybe she dreamt something useful, something that will help us get out of here."
"And we are still operating in secrecy," Sy said quietly. "The Crown does not yet know she is awake, so we will not experience interference from their end. No one sends word, is that understood?"
"Hunter, you do not speak what is true,” the Reflection whispered. "For there is indeed a traitor among you. You know the law just as I, I must do the will of any among you, even a spy."
"What?" Sy roared, gazing around the room. "Who did this?”
When no one answered, he turned to the Reflection. "Who was it? Who told you to summon the Crown?"
“What is hidden in the dark can only be drawn out by the light, what is hidden in a whisper cannot be answered by sight.”
"Speak plainly!" Sy slammed his hand against the glass.
"He came in the dark, he came at night, the traitor would not step into the light!" she cried.
"What did his voice sound like?" I asked, moving to the front of the group, and eyeing the faint reflection of the watchmen behind me to see if anyone betrayed themselves with a look.
"Smooth as honey, cold as ice—”
I held up a hand, "Yes that helps a lot, thank you very much." Silly of me to trust the poet locked in the mirror to tell me something with any amount of clarity.
I turned on my heel, shivers running up my spine as I looked over them. On
e of them was a traitor, perhaps one of them a lover, but all of them were my watchmen. My subjects.
“I had nothing in that world,” I admitted. “I’m not ready to go back to it. Not now, not ever.”
I took a deep breath and tried to find the authority in my voice, the golden confidence that radiated the sound when the siren in me was set free. But I didn’t aim to speak with the siren, or the princess for that matter.
No, my next words were those of the tired but resilient woman I’d become, the one that was going to show that bitch queen exactly what a nightmare looked like, since evidently hers hadn’t been bad enough to break me.
“We’re going to find the damn way out,” I said.
Part II
The Lonely Dreamer
Chapter 4
Dust and Sunlight
“Stuck inside with a siren indefinitely… oh no, whatever will we do.”
I slid my eyes to Gilles. His dirty blond hair rustled in the breeze slipping in through the window as we all peered down into the dark stretch of land pulled out beneath us like a long carpet. A few black birds that’d strayed from their flock hovered in the distance, moving freckles on a canvas of burgeoning dawn.
I gazed out, longing to soak in the fresh air and grateful that even if we couldn’t get out, at least the wind didn’t seem to have a problem getting in.
“Could we… climb down? With magic?” I asked. Since apparently such a thing existed in the Five Realms.
“Can you fly?” Gilles countered.
“I don’t know,” I craned my neck around to peer back at my shoulder blades, “I don’t seem to have wings, Gilles. Though, neither do you, but that won’t stop me from telling you to give it a try,” I snapped.
He picked at his nails. “As reassuring as it is to hear what a proponent you are of consent, how many times must we tell you, Princess? You can’t use your powers on us.”
Excuse me, I was all about consent when I could get it. “Still fun to give it a try.”
