Forbidden Boys

by Chantal Cross

  The silver handle was the one I first saw. The magic of this place could be trying to trick me into thinking the silver one isn’t special. I turn it. The door swings open.

  “Thank you,” I sob into the fog and tumble through the door. My knees groan in protest as they struggle to bear my graceless weight. I run as fast as I can, eager to feel the fresh air on my face once more. I just need to get through this fog.

  I press on and on. The fog doesn’t lift. Walls rise up on either side of me. They’re filled with doors with no handles.

  “Oh, no,” I cry and fall to my knees. The silver handle was a trick, and I fell for it like the silly fool that I am. Tears slip down my cheeks. It’s so cold here that they freeze on the way down and shatter on the stone floor when they fall.

  I want to curl up on the floor and never move again, but it’s too cold. I have no choice but to pick myself up and keep walking. Maybe I can find the door again.

  As I walk, I notice the walls on either side of me getting larger and larger. How is that possible?

  I spy another door with a handle. I run for it and fling it open without thinking twice.

  The room is completely dark except for a circle of light illuminated in the center. Something scaly and feathery sleeps in the center. I quickly back out of the room and shut the door before it wakes.

  When I come to the next handled door, I hesitate. In the end, I decide possibly coming face to face with a hell beast is worth it if I can find my way out. I open the door slowly. Before I’ve even opened it fully, something snarls and slams its body against the door. I stumble back with a cry.

  As I walk on, I notice the corridor becomes tighter and tighter. I’m being funneled somewhere. Hopefully not into the lair of a fearsome beast with an appetite for little fools like me.

  After walking through corridors so narrow, I have to turn sideways to move freely, the walls drop away. I’m standing in a courtyard of sorts. High walls tower three, maybe four, stories above me. The ceiling is so black it looks like a starless night.

  Rising out of the fog on the opposite side of the courtyard is a set of impossibly large metal doors. As I approach, I notice the patterns on the door aren’t random, but carefully etched metalwork. They’re a larger, grander version of the wooden doors that lead into headmaster Leo’s office. Every creature imaginable is represented on those doors. Their eyes are all gemstones. Some of the teeth look like they could be made of ivory or moonstone.

  There are scenes of wars, marriages, births, and funerals, molded into the metal. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. I could stand here and trace the scenes with my hands or stare at it for hours and still never notice every detail. As I step closer, I know the doors are slightly glowing. Magical energy radiates from them.

  Come to us, a seductive voice hisses through the mist. I look over my shoulder, expecting to see someone, but there’s no one there.

  “Hello?” I call out. Silence answers me.

  What a pretty creature, the voice purrs again. Come inside, you lovely thing.

  The doors. The voice is coming from the doors.

  Your greatest desires lie beyond the Gate of Stories. Power greater than you can imagine. The world at your fingertips.

  My limbs feel lighter. My eyes struggle to stay open. My mouth turns up at the corners in a serene smile. I could put my life to rights with power like that. I could bring Ivora back to me. We’re supposed to be best friends. I could make Gabriel be kind to me once more. I never did anything to him in the first place.

  With my power, I could make Cordelia into the mother she should’ve been to me all those years. And Seth. Oh, sweet Seth. I could make him love me for real. And I could make myself love him back. But not before I finally drag Lucien into my bedchambers and keep him there until I tire of him. Though, I can’t promise that could ever happen.

  Just enter the room, the voice whispers.

  “I shall.” I place my hand on the cool surface of the door. Little bolts of light spread from my hand and work their way up through the intricate scenes carved before me. Gate of Stories indeed. The doors creak open, and I step through them.

  I’m in some kind of vault. At first glance, it appears to be a weapons vault, but there are other things strewn about as well. In addition to piles of swords, laces, and spears, there are dolls, mirrors, and even a spinning wheel.

  Power radiates from every object. It permeates the air. I take deep breaths until I feel quite drunk on it. Any one of these items will grant me the power I need. I’m sure of it. There’s a sword I quite like. The golden dragon carved into the hilt stares at me with ruby eyes. I reach for it.

  Something inside me halts. A tiny voice in the back of my mind whispers that nothing will ever be real if I force it to happen through unnatural power. I don’t want that. I want Seth to love me for real. I want to earn back Ivora’s companionship. I want Gabriel to understand how he’s wronged me and apologize for himself.

  “Thank you for your offer,” I say, in case the voice can hear me. “But I’m afraid I have to decline.”

  “Of course, you do,” a sneering voice very different than the soft whispers I heard before comes from behind me. I whirl around. “You’re preparing yourself for Her.”

  “Professor Glaw?”

  17

  Ebony

  The white haired woman smiles down at me from her great height, hair tossing in a breeze that doesn’t seem to be touching me. Her warm grin stretches across her face, crinkling her eyes. I feel instantly at ease, she even soothes the anxiety from my interaction with Glaw.

  “My dear, it’s so lovely to see you again! How fresh and beautiful you look.”

  “I’m sorry, but have we met?”

  “Of course, my dear. You don’t remember me?”

  I look her over incredulously. She’s not the kind of person you could forget.

  “I’m sorry, I really don’t.”

  She leans over and peers into my face, searching my eyes with intense curiosity.

  “It’s me, Snow White. It's Berwyn.”

  Why is she calling me Snow White? My name is Ebony Black. Now my mind is going completely off track. I think I might have crossed dimensions on the way out of the party. First Glaw and now this.

  “I’m sorry…” I don’t know how to say this without offending this Berwyn lady. She seems really nice, but maybe she’s a bit unhinged. Intense magic work can do that.

  “I am really sorry.” I’m so tired of apologizing, especially when I’m not even sure what for, “But I think you may have me confused with someone else.”

  Berwyn pulls back, examining me critically then swooping in again to look deep into my eyes.

  “Well. Alright then my dear, if you say so. I apologize. I can see in your eyes that you have not awakened, but your soul is still there, shining out from the depths of your eyes.”

  I resist the urge to scratch my head. “Okay.” I’m tempted to apologize again. It’s almost like a reflex. “I’m sure I’ve never seen you before. So, if you had me mixed up with someone else, that would make sense.”

  Berwyn smiles that wide smile again, making her eyes crinkle. “I’m sure you’ve heard the stories, dear. You must know who I’m talking about.”

  “Well, of course! I just don’t know what it has to do with me.”

  Berwyn nods sagely, as if this is great wisdom.

  I go back to thinking she might be a bit deranged.“I’ve never seen you around school before,” I say trying to change the subject as well as remind her I don’t know her. “But you seem familiar with Glaw?”

  “Yes, dear one. I’m a researcher. Not as boring as it could be in the human world. I visit ancient sites collecting artifacts and translating hieroglyphs. I also sit in old libraries and pour through old books, but it’s not all my time.”

  “That sounds exciting.”

  “Oh, truly, it is! So many people don’t appreciate the variety of ancient texts out there. I just returned fr
om Gobekli Tepe.”

  “Oh… I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Alas, not many people have.” Berwyn shakes her lovely head. “The cradle of civilization, and most people, in our world and the human one, don’t even know of it. So many people are fascinated by Egypt, but I tell you, the Egyptians were a bunch of arrogant nuts. Obsessed with material wealth but the eternity of afterlife at the same time. What a paradox!”

  “Yes.” I can’t help smiling at her genuine enthusiasm. “When you put it that way, it does seem at odds.”

  “Well, my dear. I simply find it difficult to believe that an entire civilization could be so disciplined and religious yet fill their tombs with riches. Surely, after all those years of religion, they knew the only gold you could carry with you was the weight of your soul.”

  “I never thought of it like that.”

  “It’s not a great tragedy, dear girl. They did learn. Abandoned all the fancy temples and tombs and took off into the wilderness to become gypsies. Then they truly knew the value of things. I’m trying to discover what drove them, in the end. Surely it was a vision or message from the gods. I’d like to know which one.”

  “The Egyptians became the gypsies? Like the wanderers from the northern European countries? Wow. I never knew that.”

  Berwyn smiles, indulgently. “There seems to be a lot you don’t know dear! It’s only a theory in the human world, one that’s hotly debated. People like the fantasy of both sides so much they have difficulty putting them together. But no one even pays attention to the word root. That’s where truth always lies, and we know it.” Berwyn winks at me. “That’s why it’s called spelling.”

  “What do you mean, word root?” Berwyn’s totally lost me.

  “E-GYP-tians. GYP-sies.” She emphasizes the syllables.

  “Oh!” I have a lightbulb moment, not just about this, but tons of other words as well. “I see. The relationship between the words shows an evolution of language.”

  Berwyn claps her hands. “Yes! I knew you knew. It is inside you.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I think she’s getting weird on me again. She reaches out and grips my chin lightly.

  “You should ask your mother for the old stories, my dear. The battles and the rebellion and all that came before. I can’t believe they haven’t told you.”

  I smile politely. “Yes, I’m sure I will.” I have no clue what she’s talking about, again.

  “You know, I am related to Ivora? Only loosely, some generations apart of course. It’s lovely, you two are friends.”

  “Oh, you know we are friends here at school?”

  Berwyn winks. “You can’t hide anything from a fairy, my dear.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were a witch.”

  “Witches often have fey blood.” Berwyn shrugs. “Fairies taught witches everything they know. When I’m in Europe, I move through the fairy mounds. That’s one of the reasons I’m the head researcher. I can move around faster than others, and there’s always more to learn down in the realm itself.”

  “I’d love to see it.”

  “Perhaps you will one day. But it’s very dangerous. Fairies may like to keep you or curse you. You never know. Fairies are fickle.”

  “Are you?”

  “Well, no dear. I don’t live in the mounds anymore. I’ve become civilized.”

  Berwyn laughs as if she finds this ridiculously funny and I smile again. I still feel utterly lost with this conversation, like she’s speaking in a language I barely know.

  I’ve been distracted—she’s literally overflowing with information I’ve never heard before—but I’m still conscious of the fact I need to get out of here.

  Just when I’m about to ask her to excuse me, I hear footsteps. They aren’t close yet, but they will be soon. I can’t take the chance of getting busted again. I really will get kicked out.

  “Berwyn, do you hear that?”

  “Hmm. Someone coming to check on the party, I suppose.”

  “I need to get out of here!” I keep my voice low, but I can’t keep the panic from rising in it. “I’m in so much trouble already.”

  “Well, that certainly won’t do.” She smiles with amusement, her white gown flowing around her as she steps closer to me. “We need to keep you in the right at all times.”

  I’m confused again, and it makes me kind of mad. Like always, whenever I have an emotion that provokes me, I feel a horrible, encompassing fear. Like if I keep going in this direction, the consequences would be very bad.

  So, I swallow my anger and let it get taken over by my usual meek demeanor.

  “I’m so sorry, Berwyn. I really don’t have time to talk in riddles.” I reach out and touch her arm, just lightly. I want to cling to her and scream, but I’m a little scared of her.

  “Please help me, please.” The footsteps are getting closer. I’m starting to panic. “They can’t see me here! I’ll get in so much trouble!”

  “Oh. You’re asking me to do something?” Her smile has changed into something sharp, and her grin looks far too satisfied.

  “Yes! Please! Help me!”

  The strange breeze that stirs her garments and hair whips around her and her eyes glow. Her smile seems to be full of sharp, long teeth.

  “Do you know the fairy price? If I help you, you will owe me. It will be a great debt. Fairies don’t work for free.”

  “Please! Yes! Anything! I don’t care!” Berwyn’s scaring me now, but I don’t care about that, either. Only that she helps me.

  The footsteps ring even louder on the concrete, much closer than before.

  “You must be bound.” She puts her hand out, a look of triumph all over her face. I look at her hand uncertainty, but the clatter of footsteps energizes me. I grab her hand and shake it.

  There is a rush around us as her power whips around me, dragging me into her aura. There is a deep shifting inside me, like a key turning inside a lock.

  “There you are, my dear.” As Berwyn steps back, her face is not as friendly, and her tone is not as affectionate. “You are glamoured and will be hidden from sight. None shall detect you. It will wear off when the time is right.” She smiles, gaily. “Now I’d best be off. Don’t want people to see me out here talking to myself, do I?”

  There is a white-blue flash, like a strobe. She just vanishes. There isn’t even an energy trail.

  I have no idea what Berwyn’s done to me, or if it even worked.

  “If it didn’t work, I don't owe you,” I whisper into the night.

  As the footsteps come around the corner, I stand behind a tree. I bring my hand up to look at it but cannot there is no difference in the dark.

  I wave my hand back and forth a couple of times, not quite believing.

  I’m invisible.

  18

  Ebony

  I run through the grounds, hurtling through the shadows, swift and clear. My breath starts to heave, and my feet slap the ground—if I keep this up, I’ll be heard if not seen.

  I hear noises from the kitchen, and I think, maybe mother is in there. It would certainly be a—reasonably—safe place to hide, at least for a little while. Maybe if I explain what happened before the news gets to her another way, she will understand. I can ask for her help.

  I don’t have to show myself if I chicken out, either. It might be difficult trying to explain how I ended up invisible, anyway.

  Along with clattering pots and pans, I can hear raised voices. One of them is definitely mother. As I inch closer, I can identify the other voice is Glaw's.

  Glaw didn’t waste any time. She must have rushed straight here to spill the beans. What kind of satisfaction does she get from kicking me while I’m down all the time?

  I inch closer, not able to hear anything over the sounds of pots and pans clanging. I sneak up to the warm light from the window, peering in.

  I see Glaw and mother standing over the low wooden table. Mother looks like she’s rearranging the cupboards. I get the feeling she h
as the pans out because she needs to hit something. Mother looks severe, yet restrained. She usually does.

  Mother’s eyes are tired, and her mouth is strained. It’s not the first time I’ve thought that she seems to be carrying an enormous burden. I wonder what it is, and why she would think she needs to carry it alone?

  “This needs to be addressed.” Glaw steps forward and places her palms on the table. “I think we’ve let you dodge this for long enough now. Whatever you are doing, it isn’t working.”

  “It’s working well enough!” Mother snaps back. “She hasn’t done anything! Why are you so determined—”

  “I told you where she was.” Glaw’s tone is low, but her voice burns the air. “You know what could happen. Why would she be there at all, unless she was being drawn by her deeper purpose?”

  “Glaw. You see evil everywhere. It’s your nature. I’m sure the forces of good appreciate your vigilance. But you are seeing what you want to see. Ebony is fine. I admit there have been some issues—”

  “Issues! Are you going to pass this off as ‘issues’? Do you really think that’s going to cut it with any of us? Any of them? I think you are leading yourself astray, Cordelia. You’ve become emotionally involved.” Glaw shakes her head.

  Mother stands before Glaw, arms folded, pots and pans forgotten.

  “Aren’t we all emotionally entangled Glaw? Shall I pick up a black pot and belt you over the head with it to make my point?”

  Glaw looks like she might snarl. Her eyes shimmer, and mother stands her ground, a brief flash of amusement playing on her face.

  “Her powers are fluctuating, Cordelia.” Glaw tries to get the conversation back under her control. “This is causing her to come dangerously close to her old memories. I’ve seen demonstrations of her magic. She awakens a little more every day, just from the familiarity, the associations, and her opportunities to reach beyond her current physical form.”

  “We always knew her powers would flicker. It was accounted for.” Mother sets her chin. “She hasn’t done anything. That’s what counts. Her will is as strong as it ever was. Do you doubt the strength of a woman who brutally murdered herself to save her kingdom?”