A White So Red

by Krystle Jones

  “You always were weak,” the copy said, leaning over him. “Why do you think Father wanted another heir? Because he was hoping he would get a real son.”

  “That’s not true,” Caspar spat.

  “Oh, isn’t it though? Why do you think he never spent any time with you and devoted all his resources to training Jaspar?”

  Caspar’s resolve faltered as he thought back to the many nights spent watching the Elyon king dote on Jaspar while he was left to his own amusement, feeling alone and unwanted.

  “Yes,” the copy purred. “You know in your heart it’s the truth.”

  Caspar glanced at Snow, lying so still in the ash, her peaceful, pale face turned toward his as if asleep.

  Fire flared within him and determination filled his eyes as he looked at her. Strength returned to him and he gripped the rapier. “Father spent all that time with Jaspar because he was sickly,” he said. “When he was born, he was well underweight. We thought he wouldn’t make it through the night, but he did because he’s a fighter. Like me, like her, like this kingdom. And I won’t let you defile it, or try to bring me down because I. Am. Not. Weak.”

  Caspar brought his head straight back, feeling the copy’s nose break in the bash. When he felt the pressure ease off his back, he rolled over and plunged the rapier deep in the copy’s chest.

  The copy’s mouth opened in shock and he looked down as blood began to run from the corner of his mouth. He fell over, disintegrating into a skeleton and then nothing.

  Caspar dropped the rapier then turned and crawled toward Snow, picking her up and brushing the hair from her face. Her skin was so cold it had started to turn blue. She looked dead in every sense of the word. He rocked her, searching her face and wishing he knew what to do.

  “I have failed you,” he said softly. “Forgive me, Natalia.” He kissed her forehead, a feather-soft gesture that left his lips feeling chilled. His throat felt dry and he couldn’t bring himself to look away. “So beautiful,” he murmured. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you before how much I admire your bravery and your undying love for your sister.” His gaze dropped to her lips, which looked redder against the backdrop of pale ash, and he found himself subconsciously leaning in. Before he realized what he was doing, his lips were on hers and he closed his eyes.

  The kiss was chaste, no more than a brushing of lips, but as they kissed he felt a breath of life against his cheek as she exhaled softly, coming to. He stopped breathing for a few seconds as he jerked back, frozen, wanting her to live more badly than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

  “Natalia,” he whispered.

  ***

  She had been dreaming. At least, she thought she had. All she could remember was floating through black emptiness, which had no beginning and no end. It was peaceful there. She had wanted to stay, to drift forever if that meant not facing the horrible reality of life.

  A white hole had opened up in the darkness, as if it were coming apart at the seam. It opened wider and wider until she was surrounded by blinding white light. For some reason unknown to her, she thought of Caspar. His presence was all around her in the bodiless form of a powerful, warm emotion. It was like sunlight; she craved it as much as she did oxygen. She went toward it, reaching for the light until her arm wouldn’t stretch anymore. Then she could feel again. First, she felt her fingertips. Then she was aware of the thrumming of her heart as it resumed beating at a normal pace, pumping blood through her with renewed vigor and prodding her awake. As if in a dream, her brown eyes fluttered open and she found a blur looking over her.

  A man said her name, as if it were the most wonderful thing in the world. His features came into focus as her vision cleared. “Caspar,” she rasped, confused. “What happened?”

  He did not say anything for several long seconds, and she began to blush after enduring his wonder-filled stare for so long. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, sitting up.

  She no longer hurt anymore, though she could not remember why she thought she was supposed to be hurting in the first place. Her body felt relaxed, each muscle soothed and limber.

  “How are you feeling?” Caspar asked, instantly by her side with a hand at her back.

  “Fine,” she murmured, brows lifting as she examined herself. “Better than ever, actually. What happened?” she asked again.

  She saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard and the emotions running through his eyes became guarded. “You were enchanted.”

  She blinked. “Enchanted? By who?”

  “Do you not remember?”

  She shook her head. “No, not quite. My thoughts are all fuzzy. I remember an orchard, but that is it.”

  “Yes, my own memories are a bit vague as well,” he said, troubled. “That’s about all I remember before I came to and found you unconscious.”

  She lifted a brow. “How did you awaken me?”

  She had never seen his cheeks turn as scarlet as they did now. It suited him, somehow making him look boyishly cute. He looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I…” He bit his lip, fumbling for words. “You awoke on your own,” he said at last in a hurry.

  “Oh. Well, that’s good then. Caspar?”

  “Yes?” he said quickly. His eyes froze on her, wide and a little frightened.

  “This may sound strange,” she said softly, “but when I was in the darkness I could sense you. You called me out of that place.”

  He quickly looked away, avoiding her questioning gaze as he stood and dusted off his pants. His hands were clenched tightly at his sides. “Do you have any idea what it was like seeing you there, so cold and dead?”

  The emotion in his voice startled her. “Caspar?” she said, standing and gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

  At her touch he whirled, catching her by the arms and grasping her so tightly it almost hurt. “I thought I had lost you. I can’t afford to go through that again.”

  “Go through what? Caspar, you’re not making any sense.”

  He released her, walking away a few feet and running his hand through his hair again.

  Slowly, cautiously, she approached him, taking care to keep her voice soft and measured. “Caspar, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You almost did.”

  “But I didn’t,” she said, turning him to face her. The look in his eyes caught at her heart; hopelessness, fear, pain, they were all there. She reached up, trailing her fingertips across his cheek before he grabbed her hand and pulled it away, looking down so his gaze was hidden.

  She took a deep breath. “I know you’ve been hiding something from me.”

  He didn’t say anything; he merely stared at the floor, mute.

  A wave of exasperation hit her. “You can’t avoid it forever.”

  “Some truths aren’t worth knowing.”

  “Why? Because I’m not strong enough to bear it?”

  “Because I don’t want you to think of me any differently,” he said sharply, raising his gaze.

  She searched his eyes. “Try me.”

  Her heart was racing as he pressed his lips together, exhaling sharply through his nose.

  “You’re my fiancée,” he said at last.

  The world stopped. It had to of, because in that moment of time, she could not think or feel. “Fiancée? But that can’t be. It’s not possible.”

  He stepped around her, walking with a sloppy, thoughtful grace. “When I was a young boy,” he said, “my father brought me to Thesperia one summer, where I became enchanted by a spirited young lady with raven-colored hair and red lips that shamed the roses blooming around the castle grounds.” He paused, looking out over the orchard. “Our parents got the idea that we should someday marry. We even played dress-up together as bride and groom,” he added, and she could hear the smile in his voice. He looked back at her then, catching her eyes and stealing her breath. “When I saw you in the forest, I thought I was seeing a ghost. Everyone said you were dead, and the contract was termin
ated when the Queen took the throne.”

  Her heart skipped a beat as he started to walk toward her, never removing his eyes from hers. “I have loved you since the first day I met you,” he said. “And I always hoped and prayed that someday I would find you again.” He stopped before her, smiling sadly. Her breath was shaky and she was hot all over, close to tears. “I never imagined fate would be this kind to me,” he said, brushing a finger along her cheek. “You are my angel, my all, my one redeeming grace. You give me purpose and give me hope of a better tomorrow.”

  They came in a flood, all the happy memories of her childhood she had fought so hard to suppress because it hurt too much to think about how wonderful things once were. At the forefront of her mind, there was a young boy, with hair the color of sunshine and eyes green as the meadow. With him came the overwhelming sense of affection; it filled her up, to the point she thought her chest would burst with the agony of losing her true love.

  She closed her eyes, wishing they would stop burning and the tears she had fought so hard to control would simply go away. Caspar brushed his thumb across her cheek as a tear rolled down.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

  “Then don’t say anything.”

  She looked up at him and her breath caught at how close he was. All she could see were his lips, parted and drawing closer to hers. Holding her breath, she closed her eyes, craving his kiss like oxygen.

  A draft blew by and she opened her eyes briefly, finding her breath fogging in front of her face. The temperature had plummeted and ice crystals had begun forming on everything, clouding the leaves and ground in a thin silver haze. “Caspar,” she said, looking around. “Do you feel that?”

  “Yes.” His brows steeped, casting his eyes in shadows. “Something’s not right.”

  At the far end of the orchard, two massive doors that reached all the way to the vaulted ceiling opened with a groan. Faint purple light spilled out from the opening, but it was soon swallowed up as a massive silhouette rose in the doorframe.

  “Caspar!” she hissed, but her voice was lost to a terrible roar.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The Huntsman’s Fate

  It felt like her eardrums were melting.

  The roar grated against her skull, scrambling her thoughts, and both Caspar and she hastily covered their ears. She ground her teeth together, feeling the vibrations of the roar in the roots of her teeth, making her entire mouth tingle. When she thought she might start screaming along with the beast, the sound stopped, leaving grave silence in its wake. Slowly, she dropped her hands and looked at Caspar, who appeared as if he had swallowed a brick. “What was that?” she asked.

  He shook his head, his eyes locked onto the exit. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to.”

  From the darkness beyond the trees, hissing and snarls crawled toward them, chilling her flesh. Something about it sounded wrong. “Somehow,” she said grimly, “I don’t think we’re going to have much of a choice.”

  Caspar retrieved his rapier and positioned his body in front of hers. “And what do you think you’re doing?” she asked, raising a brow.

  “Being chivalrous?”

  “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, you know.”

  “That’s beside the point.”

  The exit disappeared, blocked by an enormous, hulking shadow, and their banter abruptly ended. For a moment, neither of them said a word, too puzzled by the creature in front of them.

  “What is it?” she whispered, her voice sickened by horror.

  It was grotesque, something not quite human or animal, seemingly slopped together by an apathetic creator. The body was feline, bulging with muscles and brown fur. Black claws the size of a sword scraped the floor, protruding from fat paws. Its head – well, one of them – was also that of a lion, drool stretching from its mouth of pointed teeth to the floor, a low growl buzzing in its neck like angry wasps. Its tail seemed to possess a life of its own, whipping about and slithering along the floor. Where a tuft of hair should have been, a large serpent head turned to hiss at them, its green scales turning into fur where the tail met the body, as if it were literally fused together with the lion. But that wasn’t the most nightmarish part.

  At first, she thought her eyes must be playing tricks on her. As she stood there, blinking slowly several times, she knew the twisting figure on the lion’s chest was most certainly a face, its eyeless sockets drooping while a moan drifted from its lips. The outline of hands pressed against the lion’s flesh, as if a human being were literally imprisoned inside the beast.

  “Help… me…”

  She gasped. “I know him.”

  Caspar quirked a brow, as if to ask, “You do?”

  Unable to tear her gaze from the face, Natalia shakily nodded. “Yes. It’s Ace, the huntsman.”

  The lion shifted its weight as a lump rose from behind its head. Looming on the creature’s back, merged directly with the spine, was the head of another serpent-like animal, only it had two ivory horns right above its brows, and a mouth lined with rows of massive fangs. It spotted them, arching its long neck, breathing puffs of sulfuric smoke dotted with embers.

  Every ounce of moisture dried up in her mouth. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Yes, it’s a dragon,” Caspar replied, his voice as small as hers. “This is an abomination.”

  She ran her tongue along her lips, too transfixed by the creature to look anywhere else. “What is it?”

  “A chimera, an animal made from the parts of other animals. This is the darkest kind of magic – alchemy. It is against the law in most countries to practice it, and the punishment for being found guilty is death. For the Queen to even be able to perform this level of sorcery… she must be more powerful than we thought.”

  “Fantastic.”

  To her complete astonishment, Caspar actually turned and gave her one of his token smirks. “But don’t worry. This is nothing I can’t handle.”

  “This is not the time for careless jests!”

  Swoosh.

  They both looked up as the chimera unfolded two giant red wings, no doubt another part of the dragon. They resembled those of a bat, only with ten times the wingspan.

  “Oh, look,” Caspar said lightly. “It can fly, too.”

  The chimera reared and all three heads roared or hissed at them. Caspar and Natalia braced themselves. She shifted all the weight to the balls of her feet, ready to spring out of the way. A flash of orange caught her eye. The dragon’s jaws were open, its mouth growing brighter as fire climbed up its throat.

  Eyes widening, she screamed, “Caspar!” right before a column of flames erupted from the dragon’s mouth. The prince dove to the side, shoving her to the other. Fire licked the space where they had been standing, boiling the air. Caspar cried out to her left; her eyes snapped up in time to see him stab the lion’s paw as it swatted at him. The lion didn’t seem to feel anything, and the snake’s head slithered around, opening its mouth as it lunged for Caspar’s waist.

  Conjuring a sword, she ran forward and sliced the snake’s flesh as hard as she could. Her sword cut a deep wound but didn’t tear all the way through as she had hoped. She pulled her sword free as the snake hissed angrily and whirled around, fixing its blood-red eyes on her. It kissed the air with its forked tongue, sliding across the floor toward her. She backed up. Then it lunged and she brought the blade up parallel to the floor, catching the snake in the mouth. Its fangs hung on the blade and she grappled with it, the serpent trying to break free while she pushed back, grunting. A drop of venom landed on her arm and she winced as sharp pain sizzled along her flesh. Her eyes flicked down, seeing a hole burned clear through her armor. A huge welt began rising on her forearm.

  The snake violently jerked back, nearly dragging her along the floor with it. It ground its jaws so hard together that one of its fangs snapped off on the blade. Blood poured from the wound in its mouth, and it hissed, coiling and preparing to
strike again. The pale white fang rested at Natalia’s feet and she dove, snatching it up and holding it with the pointed side facing out while clutching the bloodied sword in her other hand. Dizziness rushed through her, and the sword flickered in and out of existence. She gritted her teeth. Come on… stay with me!

  The snake grew still and she had only a moment’s notice before it leapt toward her, quick as death. She ducked, plunging the fang deep into its throat. The snake fell, frantically trying to shake the fang free, and she brought her sword down, severing the head. Blood spurted from the neck, which writhed around uncontrollably on the floor, unsure what to do without the head to guide it. The snake’s tongue drooped out of its mouth, the life gone from its eyes.

  The lion and dragon groaned in pain, each searching for the missing part of its body but finding nothing there. The chimera’s attacks became more frantic. It wildly clawed, snapped, and swatted at them, the lion fixed on Caspar while the dragon turned its attention to her. It was all she could do to avoid it setting her on fire. The chimera tried to take flight. The downward gust of air from its wings threw Caspar and her to the ground, knocking the breath from their lungs. The lion was ready. It landed, placing one paw on Caspar and the other on her, pinning them both to the floor. She scrambled to slice at it with her sword, but it had vanished upon impact. The beast pressed down on her, crushing her beneath its weight, and her vision blotched.

  No, not here, she thought frantically. Not after we’ve come so far!

  She struggled to maintain enough hold of her consciousness to summon an energy blast, but she couldn’t breathe, making her mind sluggish.

  Beside her, Caspar continued to fight, though his movements were becoming weaker and weaker as he too fought off falling unconscious.

  When she thought she could not fight anymore, shouts from within the orchard poured into her ears, giving her renewed hope. The chimera shuddered and reared, roaring angrily. Gulping down air, Natalia rolled out of the way and staggered toward Caspar, who was struggling to stand. She gripped his arm and they held each other steady. Her eyes caught the flash of small, moving bodies and the glint of axes and swords buried in the chimera’s hide.