by S R Nulton
Not that I wasn’t interested in seeing that happen. Well, not seeing per se. More like, I was fine with anything that would take the attention away from Reese and me so we could act like rabbits again.
Alas, no such luck or lettuce, I thought as one of the muscle men opened the door for Charlotte and we got our first sight of her sitting room. And what a sight it was.
The house had been built to impress, that was obvious from the first glance of the gardens and the architecture outside. That same theme continued inside as well. After all, there is only one reason for a home to be made almost exclusively of precious stones. At least, that was what it looked like in the hall. All that changed as we walked through the door. The room we were entering was the exact opposite of everything else we had seen.
There was almost no stone to be found; instead, it was built almost entirely of wood. The floors were made of hardwood, as was all the furniture and the chair rail and wall panels. Massive windows (with wooden sills) stood on one side of the room, showing off her gardens, while the opposite wall was covered in mirrors (in elaborate, thick wooden frames), making the room feel much bigger and allowing one to enjoy the view outside no matter where they were seated.
It was elegant, it was refined, and it made me feel sick to my stomach. I couldn’t figure out why, though. It was like there was something just on the edge of my vision, but no matter how I turned, I could never quite see it. In fact, it reminded me strongly of the feelings the broken mirror had given off at Caillte’s castle.
“Now,” our unwanted host began as she sat delicately in a heavy oak chair. “I haven’t seen Sunny in over a year. How is the dear girl?”
I blinked. I never thought that the first thing a captor would do was to ask after my grandmother’s health. “I imagine she’s fine. She hasn’t seemed to have much trouble chasing me around the continent lately. How did you–?”
“Know who you are? Don’t be ridiculous, child. I’ll grant you, it has been a while since I saw you last, but you look just like your grandfather. It’s where the red tones in your hair came from. His family is known for that particular trait. Honestly, that’s probably the real reason Sunny hates you so much. She never did like that man. He always had far more power than she could ever conceive of and he never used it for anything. A waste of talent. Your aunt is the exact same way. Too kind and no vision.” Her eyes twinkled coldly as I jerked.
It was painful to hear about my grandfather for the first time from the likes of her. My family had never been all that great at talking about family. I still didn’t know who my own father was, let alone my grandfather. I’d been told that they despised me and my mother. That they left because of it. It became a prevailing theme in my life, people hating me. I’d heard it from such a young age that I hadn’t ever remembered who said it. It came back quite suddenly, though.
My grandmother had said it to me when she was watching me while my mother was sick. She had sat there and told me, rather calmly, that I was completely unlovable and everyone would grow to hate me at some point, if they didn’t already. This was before I realized she would say things like that just to watch me cry. It’s amazing how something you hear when you are young can shape the person you become, even when you don’t remember the incident all that clearly. It wasn’t the time for self-introspection, however.
“Now,” Rancune continued, oblivious to my epiphany. “Let’s discuss something much more interesting than your poor, idiotic grandfather. Who is this lovely creature you’ve brought with you?”
Reese’s jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. I didn’t blame him. Her eyes were everywhere and nothing if not thorough in examining her new prize.
“He’s the godson of a Fey I met a few days ago. She volunteered him to escort me home. He didn’t even want to come here!” It was so awkwardly said that even I thought I was lying despite it being mostly true. Nevertheless, I took a deep breath and continued. “Look, regardless of what you do to me, I wouldn’t recommend harming him. She is… well, actually, she’s fairly sane. Her… oh, let’s call him a partner… well, he isn’t all there. He might take offense on her behalf and if I survive, I really don’t want to be caught in the middle of it.”
My husband froze. He seemed to be thinking about my words before sighing. “You’re probably right. He’ll likely decide to tunnel through the clouds and attack another city with a contagion so the refugees bring it here and poison you. Then he’d tell someone that a good dose of frog spit and a cake will cure the illness.”
That seemed to confuse Charlotte. She got over it quickly though and moved on. “He can try, but I doubt anyone will notice if you go questing and never came back. Young men do, all the time. And besides, the Fey are busy with their own troubles; they have been for quite some time. I made sure of that.”
Reese’s head jerked. “What do you mean?”
Before she could answer, I gasped. The last ray of sun had struck my eyes, nearly blinding me. When it did, I suddenly realized why the room made me so sick.
“You killed them!” I whispered. As the sun faded away, the room was bathed in red, and I saw the faces. What many don’t understand about trees is that if you cut down one that hosts a dryad, no matter what you do to it, or how you use it, you will always see the ghosts. As the day dies, you see them once more, trapped in whatever form artisans have given them. They are usually the cause of household hauntings.
The room we were in was filled with ghosts. Every chair, every plank of flooring, every side table and chair rail, all had once been alive. Now, I had no problem with killing non-sentient creatures, nor did I object to using the trees of deceased dryads for building. Most of them actually preferred to help the living after they had passed, but that wasn’t what happened.
It was murder, pure and simple. Each and every one of these creatures had been young and vibrant; their trees must have been small. There was no sign on them of being ravaged by disease or old age. Unfortunately, there was evidence of torture left on their spirits. These poor things had suffered before they were killed.
Beside me, I heard Reese curse. He had seen it too; he understood.
“Why would you do something like this?” I asked.
“Because I could. I had the power to, so why not? And because these pathetic, nosey creatures deserve everything they get.” It would have been easier to take if she’d said it with a mad grin. Instead, her voice told me she thought it was obvious. There was no indication she cared about what she’d done anymore than someone would care if they cut down a normal tree for firewood.
I was so confused by her words and manner. There was nothing offensive about a dryad. They mostly kept to themselves and avoided humans. In all of history, there had never been a rogue dryad attack. They couldn’t physically affect the world around them. As for mentally, well, they could all feel when one of their own was becoming unhealthy and they policed themselves ruthlessly to prevent any issues with the more ambulatory population of the continent.
“Oh, skies! You didn’t just take her name to scare people; you actually are her. You’re the Queen Charlotte,” Reese choked out. The room went deadly quiet. The concept had never occurred to me but made perfect sense all the same. All the pieces fit perfectly and Reese needed no further proof than the fear in the eyes of the guards. “How are you not dead?”
Charlotte shook her head at him, her expression playfully stern. “Now, now. I couldn’t exactly tell you that, now could I? Then you would try and take away my immortality. We wouldn’t want that, would we? Not when we have so many years together ahead of us.”
Reese slammed his mouth shut before turning to face away from her.
“I’m so glad that we have my identity determined. Now we can go on to discuss more important things. Like how much use I can get out of Sunny’s little granddaughter before letting her die. I mean, your stepsister is the new princess, so I should be able to get quite a bit done. The poor thing is purported to actually enjoy your compan
y, and if you help me I’ll make sure that Sunny finishes you off quickly. No playing with her kill like normal.”
My husband turned back around quickly. Instead of the horrified expression his face had held before, it was almost arrogant. “If only you had used your time to figure out who I am. Maybe then, this could have been avoided. As it is, you are now on my family’s list, and we don’t give second chances.”
She laughed, her voice soft and melodious. “Was that meant to scare me, child? I have been alive longer than you can imagine. Little boy, I have bathed in the blood of dragons, committed and survived atrocities that would destroy your delicate little mind, and have danced with death more times than I can count. Your silly threat is no more troubling than the mewling of a kitten.”
“Ah, well,” he responded, taking my hand as he spoke. “It is a shame we haven’t the time to finish this discussion. Alas, we must hurry if we wish to get home in time for tea. Farewell!”
And then he turned and dragged me straight into the mirror that stood at our backs. This wasn’t like the last time, though.
Maleficent’s mirror was directly connected to another one. It was maintained properly and the spells were renewed yearly and it never turned on and off. It was like stepping through a door, seamless and smooth. This one, on the other hand, was a bit like walking into a silver snowstorm and slipping down a mountain. You didn’t know when the ride would stop, where you were headed, or even which side was up. All you knew was that it would end and it would do so in one of three ways: with you dying outright, miraculously surviving to tell the tale, or living but begging for death.
Happy days…
Chapter 13: Questing Questions
The lurching motion felt like it was going to last forever. My head was constantly being flung from side to side, slamming into glass, tree bark, rocks, and salt water. The last surprised me so much that I gasped and took in a huge breath of water, nearly drowning. Finally, we were thrown free from the mirror, rolling across the landscape, only to slam into a boulder. Head first. How lucky am I?
I lay there, gasping and trying to regain my wits. My skin was over sensitized, to the point that the lightest pressure feel like someone was slamming a knife into me after covering it with grapefruit juice. I’ve actually had that happen before, so I speak from experience when I say that you never want to feel that. It’s a pretty miserable experience, even when it is done by accident. I love my sister, but she can be extremely clumsy. In all fairness, that was the same summer that Portia’s legs grew five inches in two months and her feet moved up about two shoe sizes. During that time nothing and no one was safe. That is beside the point though.
Anyway, naturally, feeling as I did, I decided to roll over, groaning as I went. That wasn’t such a good idea. In fact, my stomach felt like it was marching around with a picket sign letting me know just how bad an idea that was.
“Hey Reese?”
“Yeah,” he said. Well, it was more of a gasp really, but the intent for actual sound was there.
Despite the pain, I soldiered on. “Do you think we’re ever going to use a normal door again?”
“Wouldn’t bet on it.” And then we started laughing. It didn’t last long, considering how much pain we were both in, but it lightened the mood slightly.
“Ow. Let’s not do that again,” I croaked at Reese.
“Agreed,” he replied breathlessly. “I think it might hurt less to actually die.”
“Ugggh! What did you do?”
Reese lay quiet for a moment before carefully pushing himself into a sitting position and leaning against the boulder that had attempted to finish us off. “I used the residual energy of the dryad the mirror was framed in to power the mirror and draw us back to where it died.”
“How did you know something like that would even work?” I asked skeptically.
He paused before responding. “I didn’t. In fact, there was a high probability that we would get stuck halfway and die. Or become trapped in the mirror realm. Grandfather always told me it was possible. He also told me to never, under any circumstances, attempt it.” Reese sighed. “He’s never going to let me live this down.”
“So, wait, you pulled me into a possibly deadly mirror to escape the crazy immortal who wanted to used me to blackmail a kingdom before having me killed?”
“Yes.”
I sighed and tried to sit up. “Oh, good. I was hoping that I hadn’t suffered any memory loss. Or hallucinations. I hit my head a few times in there.”
Reese nodded before wincing and holding his own head. Then he gently brushed a hand through his hair, dislodging some sort of dust. “I hate sand. I wish I knew how you ended up being dragged through water while I was half-buried in a desert somewhere at the same time. For that matter, I’d love to know how I know I was in the desert while you were in the frozen seas, considering I couldn’t actually see anything,” he grumbled before turning back to me. “So, how long do you think we have before your grandmother finds us?”
I giggled. It wasn’t a happy giggle. There was an edge of hysterics to it that even I could hear. Sighing out an apology, I returned to the topic at hand. “About as long as it takes good old Rancune to suck up her pride and let granny dearest know she lost their fugitive. It really depends on where we were dropped.”
“I was afraid you’d say that. We’re pretty close to the capital now. At least I’m pretty sure we are. It might be best to head straight there, all things considered. We may even be able to reach Christopher in time to warn him about everything.” We both stared up at the stars as dusk gave way to full night. Neither was willing to move, deciding by process of procrastination to just let the last of the pain and adrenaline leave our systems. It had been a long afternoon.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
I turned my head slightly so I could look at him. “For what?”
“For what you heard about your grandmother. I know you aren’t close,” I snorted at that, “but I also know it had to hurt to find out that she…” He trailed off, as if he were suddenly aware he might be making things worse.
“To find out that I was never going to be good enough for her? Or bad enough, I suppose… I think that it’s a relief to know that I wasn’t imagining everything. It even helped me remember some things. Do you know, she was the one who first told me I’d always be hated?” My throat closed up as something warm rolled down my cheek and landed on the forest floor. I forced myself to swallow a few times before continuing. “I should thank her. I mean, if she weren’t trying to kill me. If it weren’t for hearing those words when I was young, it would probably bother me more.”
Reese leaned down to looked at me, his face blocking the stars. “What do you mean?” He caressed my cheek, capturing another wayward tear before it could feed the earth. He didn’t let go, though, just stayed there, holding me gently and searching my gaze for all my secrets. He was so serious, but not like normal. This serious face seemed less practiced, more like he actually cared about me and not the show he was putting on. Reese was always so real in these types of moments. It made me feel like those were the times when he was being true to himself instead of trying to figure out who I wanted him to be.
It was an interesting concept, but not one I had time to dwell on right then. Right then I had a question to answer.
“Well, she was the one who told me that I was generally hated by everyone. That sooner or later everyone would hate me. I had to decide what to do about that. I think she was trying to make me bitter and distrustful, but all she really succeeded in doing was making me disillusioned and helping me reach a place where it didn’t bother me anymore. After all, if I can’t affect it, why should it matter if I’m despised by everyone? I will just do the best I can and let everyone else worry about how they feel.”
I looked up at my husband’s frozen face. His mouth had even fallen open a bit as he listened and his eyes were huge and round. “Is that why you accepted my irrational anger after we left M
erri’s? Because you expected me to hate you at some point?” His tone was incredulous and edging toward angry.
“Of course. You’ve lasted longer than anyone else, actually. And you’ve been able to put it aside remarkably well while we are on the run, but you won’t have to do that much longer, I don’t think.”
He silenced me with a finger on my lips and looked deep into my eyes before speaking again. “I do not hate you, little gem. It’s actually quite the opposite. I was angry that we were being hunted and you seemed so trusting and nonchalant about everything. Also, I’m never quite sure how to talk to you. I’m far too used to politics to feel completely comfortable being honest and you didn’t respond to any of the tricks that worked for me in the past.”
Now it was my turn to be astonished. “That’s why you keep trying on new personalities like hats? I was wondering why you changed from light flirting and friendliness to super serious.” It seemed I was partially correct, but not entirely. Still, it felt good to know that the mystery of my husband’s mercurial personality was solved.
“You aren’t like the other women I’ve met,” he told me. “You constantly defy convention. Just remember, not everyone will hate you and, more importantly, you are worthy of love. That won't change, no matter what any of your relatives might think.”
My smile was brittle as I pulled away from him. “Thank you, Reese, but life has never shown that to be true. I mean, I didn’t even get to marry someone who wanted me. I was sort of forced on you, but thank you for being a friend to me anyway.” I sighed and sat up. “Come on. We need to get to the castle.”
He hesitated, muttering to himself with heartbroken expression before standing and offering me a hand. “We should be on the outskirts of the castle grounds by sunrise. We can deal with this more when we’re safe. I’m just lucky we were dropped where I hoped we’d be,” Reese told me with a laugh, trying to sound cocky and reassuring.
