[Title here]

by Thorns (epub)

  For that moment my eyes were only for her.

  She was barely more than a child. In the present day she would have lingered in the nursery, learning watercolors and geography. Blond hair covered her silken pillow and her face was pale, pure, and still.

  My eyes went to him, next. He had had time to do nothing else but open the window, and stared at me now in shock and angry surprise. “Not one step nearer,” I said.

  Kohler revealed no fear, and I suspected he felt none. He would have known little fear in his life of privilege. He glared at me impatiently, and said, “You don’t smile as you look on your evil work. Can it be you feel regret?” The thorns had torn his coat and his cravat was askew, his curls tousled. I still didn’t like him. He had a tendency to go red in the face, and he would probably run to fat later. No, he was not the man to melt my heart at such a juncture.

  “Not regret,” I said. The journey here had tired me and this place roused memories. “I was young, in the fullness of my power, and the failure to invite me to the christening was only the last and worst of the insults I suffered. Or thought I suffered. I could not have done else, being what and who I was. In a long life I’ve done worse, and better, since.”

  He shook his head in disgust. “You are cruel indeed, to look on such an innocent face, and relegate it to eternal sleep.”

  “Cruel, yes. But now the cruelty is in the service of kindness. You’ve seen this place; you must guess its age. The time to wake her is a hundred years past. Releasing her into our world would be to relegate innocence to Hell.”

  He laughed. “Lies, sophistry.”

  I persisted, in perhaps a foolish effort to make him understand. “The King here is a King no more. He cannot even claim the land his palace stands on. It would be stripped, the riches stolen. The inhabitants would be lost, maddened by the changes around them. The servants and peasants would be cast out to starve, the nobles trotted about as curiosities. I haven’t the power anymore to protect them from it, and must live with the consequences of my folly. You would expose her to that?” It was useless. They will say I have done it from jealousy, that I am an old and bitter woman and I couldn’t bear to see a beautiful young girl triumph in happiness.

  Let them say it.

  I know the world. I began this in foolishness and a desire for vengeance, I admit, and I continued it in folly. But I ended it in sober judgement, and this was not the Prince to break my spell or warm her heart.

  The gaze he turned on her had passion in it, but it was not the passion of love. I had seen the same light in young Matthew’s eyes, when I gave him the sweet cake. He said, “Her, her I would take back with me, to protect and cherish…”

  “And to perdition with her family, her companions, her loyal servants? She would not thank you for that, if the shock of her situation left her with the power of speech.” He said nothing, staring at me angrily, and I began to suspect that his motives were even less pure than I had thought. Incredible as it seems, I felt responsible for her, as if I was her nursemaid and not her captor. Moving closer, I said, “But perhaps that would be more to your taste. A prince of your age is surely married?”

  He flushed, in a blotchy and unattractive fashion. “I could hardly expect you to understand, witch.” He reached into his pocket and I suddenly found myself facing a small pistol.

  I blinked foolishly. Now there, stupid old woman, how many times did you tell yourself the rules had changed? My most effective method of defense was a sleep spell, but if I raised my hand to my lips to blow it towards him, he would have time to fire. The pistol’s grip was fine wood; if I made the weapon hot, he would still be able to trigger it.

  The curtains on the open window behind him stirred, though the air in the room remained musty and still. Delay, I thought, I must delay. I was too old to throw myself about, dodging balls or bullets or whatever it is pistols shoot at one nowadays. Whatever had possessed me to attempt to talk to the man? I said, “A sword is more customary, and more honorable.”

  His smile was irritatingly complacent. “I know your kind too well to rely on honor, Madame,” he said.

  “Then it’s fortunate you don’t know the rest of my family,” I replied.

  His expression suddenly turned fearful, and I knew he would fire his weapon. I threw myself awkwardly to the floor as the gun went off. Smoke and the stink of powder filled the room. I raised my head and saw Kohler, unconscious and crumpled helplessly on the floor. I pushed myself into an awkward sitting position, and saw the bullet had made a terrible mark on the wall behind me.

  Then Electra was bending over me anxiously. Her hair was mussed and torn from her flight up to the window, and her morning dress stained from crouching in the casement. I had seen her preparing to cast a sleep spell on Kohler, but her spells do not work quite so fast as mine. “Oh, Auntie, are you all right?”

  “Of course I am,” I said. I was not. I was covered in dust from the floor, and I was bruised and exhausted. Electra took my arm and I allowed her to help me up.

  “You should have told me that he meant to come here, Auntie,” Electra scolded. “You should never have followed him here alone. He could have killed you.”

  “He failed,” I said. “That is all that matters.” Then I ruined the solemn effect by sneezing uncontrollably.

  “We’ll get you right home for a nice cup of tea,” Electra promised, and I admitted that it would be a welcome restorative.

  She returned to Kohler’s unconscious form and bent over him. “Take his other arm, Auntie?”

  I looked down at his lumpy body with distaste. “What on earth for?”

  “We’re taking him back to the house. I’ll put a bit of my special dust in his tea, and he won’t remember a thing. We’ll tell him he had a nasty fall from his horse, and send him off no whit the wiser.” She frowned. “You didn’t do anything too permanent to his servants, did you?”

  “Not too.” I remarked, reluctantly stooping to seize his other arm. I am hardly responsible for the vagaries of cats.

  We hauled him toward the window. I had lost my gift for flight years ago, but Electra was strong enough to take all three of us. I thought Kohler deserved to stay here with the woman he meant to awaken. Not as fitting a punishment as I would have devised in my youth, but satisfying nonetheless. But Electra has a soft heart, and it is useless to argue with her.

  This story first appeared in Realms of Fantasy in June of 1995.

  Copyright © Martha Wells 1995-2004

  Photo Copyright © Eric Marin 2004

  About the Author:

  Martha Wells lives in College Station, Texas, with her three favorite things: her cats, her husband, and her tapes of Mystery Science Theater 3000. Ms. Wells is the author of five critically acclaimed novels: The Element of Fire; City of Bones; The Death of the Necromancer; Wheel of the Infinite; and The Wizard Hunters.