The Evil Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil)

by Gena Showalter

  The compliment stunned me. “Thank you.”

  He grinned as he made his next move. Crap! He’d boxed in several of my soldiers.

  Despite Roth’s success, he sobered. Grim, he said, “Tell me, sorceress. Do you enjoy ending lives?”

  “No,” I said, the denial bursting from me. “Are you kidding? I’ve been torn in two, one half grief, one half sorrow.” Revealing too much. Must hide my vulnerabilities.

  My soldier fired off a shot, killing one of his.

  “Do you blame me for your father’s death?” I asked.

  Silence, thick and oppressive. Then, “I do, and I don’t.”

  “That isn’t an answer.”

  “Yet, it’s the only one I have to offer,” he said.

  Turned out, his answer was good enough to move a soldier into the square just vacated by the dead soldier, but not good enough to fire off a retaliatory shot. “If I freed you today, what would you do?”

  Was he considering freeing me? Hope burned bright, the lone star in a vast expanse of darkness. Such silly hope. “I would return to the forest. I like it there. I would search for Hartly and succeed where others have failed.”

  For some reason, my admission angered him; he stroked his jaw a little too forcefully. Could he not abide the thought of losing me? Had I moved into his head without even trying, now living there rent free?

  “Your mother tried to kill you,” he said. “Why not remove her from her position and rule Airaria?”

  “Because I’m dumb and still hope for reconciliation? Because I love Truly? Because the citizens would treat me as poorly as yours did? Take your pick.” But...my greedy side kind of wanted to do it anyway. First, I needed to consider the risks and rewards. “By your logic, I should take Sevón from you and Farrah.”

  Just like that, the anger got mowed down by guilt.

  Between us, we carried a full set of luggage, every piece filled to the brim.

  I moved a player toward an empty square, closer to his line of defense. He stared at my fingers as if fascinated, and something wicked came over me.

  Voice a sultry caress, I said, “Do you want to touch me, Roth?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Pass.”

  He’d already admitted he thought about our kiss. Why not cop to a desire for more?

  I advanced my soldier directly in front of his. The little guy fired off a killing shot, and I experienced a flicker of triumph. Must win more.

  Roth took the newest loss in stride, calmly stroking two fingers over his chin. “Do you think of yourself as evil, Everly?”

  A loaded question, if ever I’d heard one. “Here’s what I think. My mother—the woman who raised me—told me evil is knowing what is right, but doing what is wrong anyway. Forget about me for a moment. You and Farrah act as if there are good times to do terrible things...but only to save yourselves. Whether wittingly or unwittingly, you cloak your actions in a guileless veneer, claiming you’re saving innocents while destroying other innocents along the way. But anything for the greater good, right?”

  “Everly—”

  “No! The sorceress isn’t done talking.” Game forgotten, I snapped, “Until I was forced into an untenable situation, my only crime was stealing power I knew you would recoup. But I am the evil one? Because I have a sorcerer in my bloodline? Because I disagree with your methods and motives? So be it. If you are heroes, I’d much rather be the villain. Which means, yes. Yes, I think of myself as evil. It is a badge I will forever wear with pride.” Evil queen? Full steam ahead. “But I can’t help but wonder how you and Farrah will react when the tables are turned, and a certain sorceress does terrible things to you in order to save herself or someone she loves.”

  His spiky black lashes nearly fused. His jaw displayed a cruel slant, and the tendons running along the sides of his neck pulled taut. His shoulders squared, a blockade between me and the rest of the world.

  I knew I’d reached him.

  Finally, he said, “Farrah grew up without a mother because of me. Because I wasn’t strong enough to stop the sorcerer. She is flawed, yes, but the same is true of us all. We have done terrible things, yes, but so have you. Deep down, I know we will all do much, much worse to protect the ones we love—which means the prophecy will come true. You will hurt the princess...for a time. Then she will destroy you. I will destroy you. I won’t want to, I’ll hate myself, but in the end, good will triumph over evil.”

  How easily he spoke of my destruction. I’d reached him all right, but I’d failed to win him over.

  Feigning confidence, even as despair stabbed at me, I said, “Tsk, tsk. If you won’t trust your heart more than prophecy, you are the one who fulfills it, Roth, not me.”

  37

  What’s done is done.

  Fight until you’ve won.

  Time passed at a crawl and at lightning speed. Weeks. Months. My birthday came and went. I only knew because Roth told me, and he only knew because Truly told him. He’d tried to throw me a little party, bringing me cake and a present, but I’d declined both. Until I reunited with Hartly and Truly, I had nothing to celebrate.

  Okay, that wasn’t true. I did have something to celebrate. He continued to visit me every day at sunset. Not once did he hurt or insult me. We never finished our game, too afraid to ask any more questions, but he always brought gifts. Those, I accepted. A gorgeous claw-foot tub with an enchanted spout to replace the metal basin Vikander had made for me. A new and lovely privacy screen. A wardrobe filled with finely made garments. Elaborate metal face masks preferred by the avian, a part of their culture. Thin, lightweight armor. Jewelry. Soft blankets. Potted plants. Mirrors of every size and shape.

  I would say, “This doesn’t make my imprisonment any better, princeling.”

  And he would reply, “But it doesn’t hurt, either, sorceress.”

  “Just let me go,” I would then demand.

  “I cannot. You killed seven witches.”

  “In self-defense.” But deep down I knew I could have weakened them and achieved the same result.

  “One day, you will commit crimes against my sister.”

  “Your sister has already committed crimes against me.”

  He never had a response for that one, only an involuntary response: a ticking muscle underneath his eye.

  Yesterday, he’d switched things up, giving me a basket of yarn and knitting needles.

  “Do not even think about stabbing me with those needles,” he’d said, his eyes vibrant with merriment.

  But merriment had quickly turned to heat. Nowadays we couldn’t look at each other without electrifying the air around us.

  I couldn’t even think about those unfulfilled desires without melting. Once or twice I could have attacked him and mounted an escape, successful or not, but I hadn’t wanted to injure him.

  This is you, remaining detached?

  Think of something else before you electrify yourself.

  Right. The gifts. I’d think about the gifts. My favorite was a box of books filled with different volumes labeled Annals of Enchantia. Just like the one I’d found in his bedroom! I got to learn about Enchantia’s history—witches hoping to hide from persecution inadvertently shifted the curtain between dimensions for the first time. I got to study Allura and the forest, royal families, and every magical species in the land.

  Second favorite: the puzzles.

  A few days ago, he’d stomped into my cell, all but vibrating with strain. I’d convinced him to work one of the more elaborate puzzles with me, and the strain had melted from him, amazing me.

  This boy... He liked me. And whether he admitted it or not, he needed me. Every time he visited, he would laugh at my sass, and I would tease him about his stodginess. He’d begun lingering, staying later and later.

  Last night, we’d lain in bed—an Encha
ntian scandal in the making, I was sure—and talked for hours.

  Careful. Electricity sparking...

  I didn’t care. I loved the memory so much, I wanted to relive it every day for the rest of my life. He’d questioned me about my negotiation techniques, hanging on my every word, and then we’d discussed our prophecy.

  When did “my” prophecy become “our” prophecy?

  We’d fallen asleep face-to-face, one of his strong arms draped over me, and I’d loved it. When I’d awoken, however, he’d been gone, and I’d been crushed.

  Was the ecstasy I found in his arms worth the despair I faced with his desertion?

  It must be, because I hoped he returned tonight and every night after. The joy I felt in his presence...

  Worth it. Worth anything. Even though it frightened me. I think it frightened him, as well.

  Detach! Detach!

  I wasn’t sure I could.

  To my consternation, I could no longer spy on him, either. He’d visited Noel and Ophelia to buy a spell to “block whomever is using magic to watch me.”

  “Are you sure you want to block her?” Noel had asked. “I’m giving you a bargain, yes. You must only vow to give Ophelia and me safe passage in your kingdom forever and always. Still. Are you sure?”

  “Her?” he’d demanded.

  She hadn’t confirmed or denied my identity. Instead, she’d replied, “Keep things as is, and you can put on a real show for her. Strip slow and bathe, maybe. That’ll teach her a lesson she’ll never forget.” She’d wiggled her brows. “Or would you prefer she didn’t know you shout her name whenever you get personal with yourself?”

  His lips had pulled back from his teeth in a show of irritation. “What you’re hinting at is impossible. Everly cannot access her magic. Therefore, she cannot be the one who is watching me.”

  Noel had shrugged, saying no more.

  Now I had to get my thrills—I meant, my information—spying on everyone else.

  Hartly and Warick were sickeningly flirty. Her love had tamed the beast of beasts, and the bulk of trolls marveled that their commander had fallen for such a “hideous” girl. Thor was revered by all.

  Truly continued to prepare for escape. I’d observed her as she’d created and shot new arrows and notes, communicating with someone in the Enchantian Forest. But who? Someone who carried the message to Violet? Allura, maybe?

  I’d begun to wonder if Allura was part of the fairy tale. Snow White ran through a forest, after all. The Huntsman slayed a boar there. The Seven Protectors supposedly lived there.

  Nicolas and Ty continued to search for Hartly. At least, I assumed they did. They never left the Enchantian Forest. They definitely didn’t know how happy and content she was.

  Farrah had been planning the ball in Roth’s honor, determined to help the king pick a bride to ease his “burden-filled life.” Never mind the fact that the kingdom ran like a well-oiled machine.

  Roth cared for his people, often risking his life to better theirs. In return, servants and soldiers alike eagerly did his bidding. But beneath their reverence, I sensed frothing fear. No one could soothe his temper or predict how he would react to a situation.

  Case in point: no one expected him to exile Annica, the broom-goblin, but he did it. I hadn’t had the pleasure of witnessing the event. I’d only heard about it secondhand, when two servants—I’d dubbed them Thelma and Louise—had come to clean my cell in Annica’s place.

  The first day T and L had shown up, I’d gotten to check off one item on my To Do list. Thelma had touched the broom handle and dropped as if I’d kicked her feet out from under her. She’d writhed for several seconds, agonized. Both Thelma and Louise had blamed the spidorpion they’d seen earlier, and I’d let them. A mistake. When Louise next saw Phobia, she’d tried to stomp on him.

  I’d jumped up and drop-kicked her for real. When she’d climbed to her feet, ready to backhand me, Thelma had caught her wrist and said, “Remember what happened to Annica? She struck the prisoner, and King Roth banished her forever.”

  Inside, I’d erupted with surprise. Outside, I’d schooled my expression to project only smug superiority. I’d told the servants, “Spread the word. If you see an insect or critter of any kind, anywhere in the palace, you do them no harm. Understand? They are under my protection. I always find ways to retaliate against my foes. Ask Annica. Oh, wait. You can’t.”

  Now I stood on my bed, peering out my window, a cool breeze wafting into my cell. Stalks of ivy had grown over every wall, the leaves soft as they petted me.

  Last night, when Roth and I had our sleepover, he’d pinched a leaf between his fingers and said, “Allura watches over you. Why?”

  I’d told him I didn’t know, and I didn’t. But I suspected...

  In the Annals of Enchantia, Allura was touted as a “rare triad.” A nymph, a witch and an oracle. The Tree of New Beginnings supposedly belonged to her, not Violet, not Stephan. If true, I belonged to her, too.

  A shout drew my attention to the icy courtyard below my tower, where Roth and his army trained. They used to practice farther away.

  I’d asked Roth why they’d moved, and he’d grumbled, “I want to keep you within my sights.”

  I believed him. He wanted me within his sights...because he wanted to show off. Proof: he continued to glance up to assure himself I remained at the window.

  Any other day, I might have cheered and shouted inappropriate comments until he laughed. Things like, Pin him down and kiss him hard—I would! But not today. Maybe not ever again.

  Tomorrow, the royal ball kicked off. Servants and guards had been rushing around for hours, frenzied as they finished last-minute preparations.

  As jubilant as Farrah had been, I’d begun to suspect Roth had finally agreed to pick a bride.

  If he got married...

  I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth to silence a scream.

  Roth and Farrah were out there enjoying their lives while ruining mine. One day, they would regret it. One day soon. I planned to mount an escape as soon as the ball began.

  Something pulled my gaze beyond the mountains...to the edge of the Enchantian Forest. I sucked in a breath. Was that...could it be...Nicolas, Ty, Hartly and Warick?

  Shaking from top to bottom, I dropped and grabbed the enchanted glass. “Show me Hartly.” Nothing. “Show me Nicolas and Ty.” Again, nothing. Argh! Why go on the fritz now? “Show me Farrah.”

  At last! The princess perched atop Roth’s throne. All around, servants scrubbed the walls and floor. “You are no longer welcome here,” she announced.

  Ooh la la. What was this? A firing? I loved when I caught an inciting incident.

  Noel and Ophelia stepped from the shadows.

  The witch offered the princess a dark, sardonic smile.

  The oracle offered a sunny one. “You’ve never needed us more. But all right. What the doomed princess wants, the doomed princess gets!”

  Farrah cringed but didn’t reverse her decision. “You poison Roth’s mind every time you tell him Everly both is and isn’t the Evil Queen. He needs to stop visiting her, stop playing house.”

  Whoa. Hold up. Noel couldn’t lie. So, what made me the Evil Queen, and what made me not the Evil Queen?

  Too tired to deal with further emotional upheaval, I stuffed the enchanted glass in my pillow and waited for Roth to finish his training. He would visit. We would talk and laugh, and he would hold me.

  Waiting... Still waiting...

  Footsteps resounded. I couldn’t contain my excitement, I whispered, “Go, go.” My critters scampered to their hiding places.

  A freshly bathed Roth strode into the cell, another gift in hand. A shoe-size wooden box. I lifted the lid to find...a bloody heart?

  He read my confusion and said, “The centaur who escaped us in the forest came back for you. I.
..handled him.”

  I hugged the box, my new favorite gift, but also I gave him my usual spiel. “This doesn’t make my imprisonment any better, princeling.”

  “But it doesn’t hurt, either, sorceress.”

  “Just let me go.”

  “Say those words again in two days, and we’ll talk.” He sat beside me at the edge of the bed.

  What! Did that mean he planned to let me go? I climbed atop his lap, determined not to react to his words. Two days from now wasn’t today, and only today mattered. “Did you miss me?”

  “Yes,” he said, not even trying to deny it. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close.

  “I shouldn’t find comfort with you,” I muttered.

  “I know.” He sounded remorseful.

  I breathed him in, the scent of pine strongest, reminding me of our time in the forest.

  Combing his fingers through my hair, he said, “What if I took you on an excursion?”

  My heart skipped a beat. “Where?”

  “The village. We can shop.”

  A day with Roth. A normal day—or date. “I’m in! When do you want to go?”

  “The day after tomorrow.”

  Again, such a specific time. Why? Oh, yes. The ball. Envy and anger sparked.

  Reflexes too swift to track, he set the box on the floor, twisted and tossed me onto my back. Looming over me, pinning me with his weight, he grinned with wicked delight...and began tickling me.

  “Stop! I’m going to pee my pants!” I told him between giggles.

  He settled beside me and draped his arm over my middle, his warm breath fanning my face. Goodbye, amusement.

  I wouldn’t be here in two days. Tomorrow, I would escape. Nothing would stop me. Never again would I spend a night in the agonizing rapture of Roth’s embrace.

  “There’s so much I long to tell you,” he said. “So much I long to do with you, for you.”

  “Like...kiss me?” We hadn’t kissed since our time in the forest.

  “Yes,” he said, a hiss.

  Passion-fever heated every inch of me. “What are you waiting for?”

  “While you are trapped in here, I do not deserve to kiss you.”