The Stepsister's Lament

by S R Nulton

  I just shook my head. He was acting oddly again, but I wasn’t going to push it. Not when we had wasted so much time laying around, regaining equilibrium and talking about my feelings. It was pretty ridiculous, actually. I mean, who in their right mind talks about feelings when they know they are in danger? Not someone being hunted by psychotic relatives, that’s who.

  Honestly, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of his confessions. The fact that he didn’t hate me was a bit dizzying. Adding to that his apparent nervousness when dealing with me made much of our relationship clearer. Granted, he was still obviously hiding something, and something big at that, but I wasn’t as concerned over that as I should have been. After all, he was one of a handful of people who didn’t hate me. It was a heady feeling, much like the freedom of being outside when spring finally takes hold of the land.

  There was only one other time I’d felt this utter relief, and that was after meeting Cindy and her father. They treated me so differently from everyone else. When Portia, Mother and I moved in, they were so kind to all of us, even when our ignorance over proper table settings caused issues at formal dinner parties. They always went out of their way to make each of us feel special and wanted, a part of their family. For that I would always be grateful.

  I didn’t know how long my relief would last, but I was determined to enjoy it while it did. I didn’t want to destroy possibly the only gift my husband could ever give me. Besides, by my reckoning there wasn’t much time left. Might as well appreciate life while it is there.

  ~

  The forest was incredible at night. Everything seemed to be painted in shades of blue, green, or purple, all except where the moonlight touched the leaves and edged them in silver, like stardust had been mixed with morning dew to color them. Lack of sleep and general exhaustion made everything seem fuzzy around the edges. It almost felt like a dream as our legs ate up the miles. The nerves certainly didn’t help. Neither did the aftereffects of our ill-advised flight through the mirror.

  Every sound was heightened: the creaking of tree limbs, the rustle of leaves, the snap of a twig under foot, the gentle thump-thump of a deer as it leapt over a log. Everything echoed in my head as we followed near invisible game trails and stepped around the occasional rabbit snare.

  If you had asked me before I left my aunt’s cottage if I was a good hiker or comfortable in the forest, I would have said that I was. I’d been trained to be so, to move with silence, to be sure when I stepped and careful when I walked. If you asked me during that walk, I would have replied with a resounding ‘no’ because that night I realized how much I still had to learn and I had a master right in front of me.

  Honestly, I felt like I was seeing Reese for the first time.

  He didn’t walk or hike. He glided ahead like a will-o’-the-wisp. He looked so graceful that he could have been dancing. I’d noticed it before, but that was during the day. It’s difficult to walk through a forest in full darkness without disturbing the silence. I sounded like a herd of oxen in comparison, and while I was decent at woodcraft, there was no way I could walk through a forest and not leave a trace. But that’s just what he did. Not a footprint marred the forest floor, not a fern frond was bent, and not a twig was broken. It was like I followed a ghost.

  It’s a terrifying thing when you realize that you are married to a stranger, something I was all too familiar with by that point. It is even scarier when you realize that there is more to him than you could ever imagine. It’s hard to see every facet of a person, no matter how long you know them. It is just a fact of life. Sometimes, though, you realized that what you were looking at all this time was just the reflection of the facets cast by the sunlight, not the gem itself. That you haven’t even begun to understand the person standing next to you…

  On the bright side, he was finally being more honest about who he was.

  I began to think back to all that I did know, trying to make sense of it. Perhaps he had learned it during the three years he had lived in the wilds of his homeland. But… this went beyond even that level of skill. It was almost akin to magic. I finally came to the conclusion that he had hidden a lot about himself while we traveled. Not that it’s easy to divulge your entire life to a stranger over the course of a week. Still, maybe I needed to think about what I did know.

  His grandfather was close personal friends with not one but two well-known Fey. Reese was well versed in the care and use of magic mirrors, objects that most people considered to be a myth. He was not only best friends with the crown prince of Alenia, but also an accomplished politician. At least, that’s how it appeared, particularly when we were at Queen Caillte’s castle.

  Then there was the fact that he was powerful enough (and knowledgeable enough) to use the residual energy from a ghost to power a mirror and take us exactly where he wanted us to go. Safely. Well, mostly safely. He’d tried to pass it off as something fairly simple, but through my studies at Aunt Grace’s cottage, I knew for a fact that harnessing the energy of a ghost for anything other than necromancy or telekinesis was nearly impossible unless you had more power than the ghost did. That wouldn’t be terribly difficult with a regular, human ghost. The ghost of a magical tree spirit though? That took a magic user more powerful than any I’d ever heard of.

  I decided it was time to change the subject before I went mad with questions that I knew would never be answered. “Reese?”

  “Yes?” he answered without looking.

  I stepped carefully over a root. “Why does everyone believe Merriweather is a girl?”

  He stumbled slightly before continuing on with a smooth gait. “Well, the person reporting about the christening of Princess Aurora was… to be quite frank, he was as blind as a bat and yellow-bellied to boot. When everyone else ran in fear of the supposed evil Fey Maleficent, he was too terrified to move. He froze in a dark corner of the room and watched the whole thing. The only problem was, he thought that Merriweather was a beautiful female and he was half-besotted. So, he spread a story about a benevolent and beautiful woman named Merriweather who saved the princess’ life.”

  “That must have gone over well,” I remarked as I worked on containing my giggles.

  “You’d be surprised,” he responded wryly. “For some reason, Merriweather gets a kick out of confusing people. It’s half of why he was in a foul mood when we met him. Neither of us commented on how he wasn’t a female.”

  That sounded like him. The Fey had a sense of humor that was only rivaled by my sister Portia. Both could tease a body to commit murder.

  “Anything else bothering you?” Reese asked as he helped me over a felled tree.

  I thought about it. “Actually, yes. Before you fixed the mirror, Queen Caillte’s castle was giving me this really bad feeling. It was like… vertigo and the flu all at once. Then, when you fixed it, it went away. What was that?”

  Reese stopped and stared at me. “You felt that? That strongly?” I nodded. “Incredible. I mean, I suspected, but…” He shook his head and gestured that I should sit. When I had, he asked, “What do you know about your magic, Joy?”

  “Not much. I know that there is something about it my grandmother wants to use, but I’m not exactly sure what. Mother never worked with me on it, which is probably a good thing considering how bad she is, and Aunt Grace would only teach me a few tricks here and there. Most of those were for housekeeping purposes. The rest was about herbology and the like.”

  He rubbed his face and sighed. “Do you know the basics of magic? The differences between, say, a witch and an enchantress?”

  I shook my head. Aunt Grace had never explained that to me, and mother refused to talk about magic once she realized that I couldn’t do it the same way that she could. It made growing up a bit odd. I’m sure that other children learned about such things in school, but I had been taught at home my entire life. At the beginning, it was to avoid my grandmother’s reputation. When we moved in with Cindy, we had a governess, and she decided not to leave when
things got lean and she couldn’t be paid. I suspected my mother stopped her from talking to us about magic.

  “I do know about the four bases of power,” I ventured.

  Magic was not something that just happened willy-nilly. It had to be based on something. Centuries ago, magicians had come up with a theory that was generally acknowledged as true, even if it was a bit… squirrely: the four bases of power. It was observed (through dubiously ‘responsible’ experimentation) that each style of magic had a different place that power was drawn from. For some, it was an innate power, something that came from within. For others, spells seemed to channel all loose magic in the area into the shape specified by the magician. Others gained energy from objects. The last group drew magic from the elements of nature.

  Most magicians agreed that the combination and degree of each power base you used determined what type of magician you would become. Others thought it had to do with having non-human bloodlines, but that was still pure speculation.

  “Right,” Reese began. “As you probably know, there are five main types of magicians: sorcerers, enchanters, mages, witches, and seers. There are other, less common types, but those are usually derivatives of the first five, so they don’t matter right now. Sorcerers are the most powerful of all magic users. They have massive amounts of innate magic and are very good with spells. They also have to study for years to be able to successfully use their powers.

  “Mages are also extremely powerful, but not very good with small tasks. They tend to be overpowered. They gain their powers from the elements, primarily. Witches, on the other hand, are notoriously underpowered, but have the widest range for power and ability. They are also the most common. Seers are the least common and only possess innate magic, allowing them to see outside of time and space.”

  He took a deep breath before continuing.

  “Enchanters are tied with mages for power, but they receive it from different means. Enchanters primarily use objects to enchant objects. They are quite versatile; they can use any of the four bases, after all. The problem is, that where mages and witches receive their magic early in life, sorcerers and enchanters don’t until they are in their early to mid 20s.”

  I puzzled this over, knowing that my exhaustion was making me miss some glaring clue. Seeing my lack of understanding, Reese took pity on me and kept going.

  “You’re aunt wouldn’t have received her powers 'til she was about your age. Some minor abilities always present earlier, but just enough so that the magician is aware that they need to be trained. Grandfather says it is a survival mechanism. Mages need to slowly build up their tolerance to the power they wield, using it steadily so it doesn’t overload their senses. The elements can be very demanding. Witches need to slowly learn spells, practicing nearly continually as they age so that they can gain a greater capacity for power. Sorcerers need to look inside for strength and fortitude, something that only comes through introspection after living through trying circumstances. Living without powers helps them search for them search for the best option, not the easiest. Enchanters need to learn to use the world around them to find answers, pushing beyond the selfishness of youth. And they always retreat into quiet places for a few months before their powers truly begin to manifest.”

  And it finally clicked. “Are you saying I’m an enchantress? That’s, that’s…” but I froze. It actually made sense. It was probably why my grandmother had waited so long to come after me. Had to see what type of magic I had, if I had any at all, and what I would do with it. She must have gotten tired of waiting, though, and just decided to deal with me once and for all.

  “It’s true,” Reese replied gently. “That’s why you can do so much with elements without training or being a mage. Like using the wind to clear a circle of herbs. It’s the same reason that you don’t need help to run the hat you were given. You had the excess power to stabilize it. And why you were trained with herbs and hid near a forest when you might have been safer at the castle. You needed the quiet to let the magic reset your body. You will be a little stronger and faster soon, not to mention aging slower once you turn 30.”

  My brows rose. “30? Really? Why 30?”

  “It’s when your magic will finally stop growing. You will, for lack of a better phrase, finally be mature. Right now, though, you’re basically a baby, so you need to be careful. Large workings will tire you a great deal; they might even kill you.”

  That is the plan, I said to myself, thinking about the spell I had in place and wondering what my future might have been, if things had been different. No use worrying about it now. You can’t change the past, and you wouldn’t be you if you did. And with that, I put it out of my mind and let my attention shift back to moving without tripping over any exposed roots.

  Our trek continued through the night with very few stops and absolutely no sleep. My muscles ached from the exercise, but my joints and feet were doing pretty well thanks to Maleficent’s shoes. I doubted that I’d ever wear anything else ever again. If it weren’t for those amazing boots, I’d have gone lame, what with all the hiking and running we had done. On the rare occasion that we did stop, it was usually for no more than ten minutes of sitting before a quick stretch, and then we moved on. The night began to feel like it would never end.

  ~

  It felt like we’d been walking for days when I suddenly noticed the shadows thinning. They were slowly lost their midnight appearance and fading to the softer blue of false-dawn as the sun rose behind us.

  We’d walked the whole night through and were just now getting close to the capital. I could see its towers over the trees, flags flying jauntily. So close to resting!

  I thought over our journey thus far, how much ground we had covered and how close we were to where it had all started. That’s when it hit me.

  We were halfway between Mallie’s castle and Caillte’s castle. My grandmother didn’t need any advanced warning from Rancune. We were right in her path!

  “Reese,” I whispered. He nodded, understanding the fear in my voice. We were running out of time to get to the castle. My grandmother could show up at any moment! He sped up.

  We came to a clearing just as the sun broke over the horizon.

  And then a wolf howled.

  Chapter 14: What Big Teeth You Have

  The bass tones of the wolf’s howl echoed through the clearing. I could feel the deep sound rattling my very bones as it grew louder. It was every nightmare I’d ever had come to life, and I could taste my own panic as the sound grew and moved closer.

  Reese grabbed my arm and pulled, making our eyes snap together. “Joy, run!”

  So I did. I ran. I wasn’t fast enough though. I never was, not while asleep and not while awake.

  Before we’d even gotten to the other side of the clearing, reality came crashing down. It was too late to escape our fate. We were too late and everyone might be doomed because of it!

  If I can’t manage to stop them…

  He melted from the trees, his gait slow and sinuous, eyes glowing gold in the quickly fading darkness. Gold and black. Just the way I remembered. Always gold and black. Human or wolf, just gold and black. A low growl rumbled through the clearing and Reese and I backed away from the wolf as he turned back into a man.

  “It’s over, Joy. It’s time to stop running.”

  I spun around, shaking with fear as I faced the true monster. “Grandmother.”

  She looked good for her age, clearly using the same beauty regimen as Rancune judging by the fact that she didn’t appear to have aged. At all. In over ten years. Her hair was still thick and dark, with the few streaks of grey framing her face, a face lacking almost any wrinkles. I always secretly believed that it was because she didn’t feel things like normal people. She never felt guilt or happiness or anguish, so the emotions never left their mark on her face. It still looked flawless; mature but youthful, like a woman in her early to mid thirties. Adding further to that image, her figure was willowy, practically delicate
and her corseted waist exaggerated her tiny waist. After all, she had to be 70 if she was a day. It made one wonder just how much magic she had used to maintain this impossible appearance, particularly considering none of the other women in our family were built that way.

  I am happy to say that no one would know we were related by just looking at us. In fact, the only resemblance between us was our average height and our eyes. Both of us had dark eyes, the color of rich earth, or, in her case, shadows. Only, I desperately hoped my eyes never looked that empty.

  As always, she wore her signature red dress in a shade so dark that it nearly looked black. I’d asked my mother about Grandmother’s choice of colors. She told me it was to hide the blood. I was four when she told me that. Even then I knew it wasn’t a joke.

  “You know, this would have been easier if you’d just given up and let me kill you early on,” she said, completely casual. There was no expression in her voice, no emotion. Just a bland comment that made chills go down your spine. I’d heard her order mead with more emotion in her voice.

  “Honestly, I’m surprised that you didn’t come for me earlier. You’ve known the prophecy for a long time. So why now?” My voice was shaking slightly, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking. It was the question I kept circling back to. She’d always hated me, so why now? Why did she suddenly care?

  “Why not?” She stepped forward, crossing in front as her wolf did the same behind. “Besides, your stepsister is married to a prince now. That changes things quite a bit. I mean, it was one thing when you were the most hated person in the kingdom, but now your idiot stepsister has everyone convinced that you are just misunderstood. It would make things a lot more complicated for me if you’d ever decided to come back. So I chose to… eliminate the problem before that stupid prophecy could come to fruition.