I rested my head in the hollow of his neck, suddenly, exquisitely, deliriously happy. I’d won him over. I knew it!
We fell asleep like that. I awoke certain he would cancel the ball and set me free. But once again, he was gone. No note. Servants still rushed around preparing for the ball.
Don’t care what Roth does or doesn’t do. This is for the best. I would be leaving today. I needed to get used to being without him.
Where was my detachment now?
With a screech, I tossed my pillow against the wall, only to remember my enchanted glass was still inside it. I scrambled over.
Please be intact. Yes!
Sunlight streamed through the window, urgency, excitement and nervousness consuming me...and maybe a little dread, too. I had a ball to attend, a king to usurp and no fairy godmother to make me presentable.
No, not true. I was my own fairy godmother, and there was none better.
“Today is the day,” I announced. My friends had come out of hiding. “Today we escape.”
First up—preparation. As I bathed, brushed my teeth and styled my hair in an elaborate half plait, my spidorpions performed the most important task of the day. Would they succeed?
Twitters of excitement provided the perfect background music as I dressed in a scandalous silver gown threaded with gold. One of Roth’s gifts. To match your eyes, sweetling.
I anchored a shard of glass to my thigh, donned a sapphire choker above the torque, and an array of bracelets on each wrist—my makeshift cuffs—then studied my reflection. Missing something...
Phobia and Webster entered the room through a crack in the wall, dragging a length of web behind them. Anticipation swarmed me. Had they done it?
Yes! In the web was a bloody, severed thumb.
I laughed, overjoyed. Cinderella had rodent helpers. I had spidorpions.
During my spying, I’d watched different fairies who lived in the palace. One male had patted the backsides of female servants, no matter how many times they’d protested.
“I’m so proud of you, my loves!” I bent down to pick up the thumb. “Did you cut off the fairy’s other fingers and scatter them about, so no one would realize the thumb was missing?”
—We did!—
I pressed the appendage against the torque...please, please, please. The metal separated, the pieces falling to the floor, and all the magic I’d stored up surged through me.
Relief nearly buckled my knees. I collected Phobia and Webster, one in each palm, and lifted the little darlings to my ears. They used their stingers to hang from my lobes, the perfect earrings.
Days ago, Vikander had visited. He hadn’t come inside, he’d just tossed a tiny, lightweight metal stinger through the bars in the door.
A prosthetic for your pet, he’d said. Allura asked, I granted.
I hadn’t known the fairy and the nymph were...friends?
I’d stood before the ivy and told the forest nymph, I want to give you something in return. I have nothing to offer but my thanks and appreciation, and I offer both liberally.
—We leave tower now?—
Phobia’s voice drifted through my head. “Soon,” I said. “After stage two.”
If I took off, Roth and Farrah would come after me, because they saw me as a weakling, someone easily subdued. I had to prove I was a foe with whom one did not screw.
I had to attend the ball.
I put the pieces of the torque on the bed and rolled my head back and forth. I had to be careful. Because of the spidorpion venom and its mystical pulse of power, I could use magic, yes, but it was untried. And how long before I burned through it?
I’d be better served syphoning. But the moment I syphoned, word would spread, everyone suspecting the sorceress had gotten free.
I could syphon from Allura. And maybe she wanted me to? That pulsing, flashing blue glow seemed to say, Syphon. Syphon. Syphon.
Such power...no one here would know...
If I was wrong and I ticked her off, she might try to keep me out of the forest.
Can’t risk it. I broke my sliver of enchanted glass in half and handed one of the pieces to an adorable rat I’d named Bitsy. “You know what to do.”
Off she raced, other rats chasing after her.
I settled Cuddles around my neck, then clutched the remaining sliver of enchanted glass to my chest and paced. Five...ten...fifteen minutes passed. My army watched from various locations within the cell, their excitement unmistakable.
Lord Nut Sack—Nutty—perched on the bed, eating pecans and acorns, leaving a mound of debris behind. “You’re lucky I’m blowing this joint,” I said, wagging my finger at him.
He held an acorn in both of his tiny hands and rocked his hips, all bow-chicka-wow-wow.
Phobia translated. —You want some of his nuts?—
I rolled my eyes. My amusement didn’t last long, overshadowed by impatience. “Why hasn’t Bitsy returned?” And dang it, the ivy continued to call to me. Syphon. Syphon. Syphon.
No! I’d wait for my planning to pay off and syphon from Farrah once I had her locked in this tower.
Finally, the rat darted from the hole in the wall and squeaked.
Again, Phobia translated. —She do good. Just what you wanted.—
Excellent. Bitsy and her crew had scared Farrah’s ladies-in-waiting. Then, during the commotion, they’d slipped the second sliver of enchanted glass in the princess’s pocket, ensuring I could have a private meeting with her, without leaving my cell.
“All right. Places everyone. It’s showtime.” I trembled with excitement and nervousness. The moment of truth had arrived.
My critters raced to their assigned stations.
“Here goes.” Deep breath in, out. I lifted my piece of enchanted glass.
“Show Farrah to me, and me to Farrah. Let us see, let us hear...” Could I bait the princess into visiting my cell before the ball, without causing her to alert Roth? My entire plan revolved around her reaction to our conversation.
Of course, I’d worked up a plan B, C, D and E, just in case I failed.
Don’t fail.
The nervousness won, sweat dotting the back of my neck. I had to bait her. I had to trick Farrah the way the Evil Queen tricked Snow White. And I could. I now knew the chinks in her armor.
Her image appeared. Her dark hair had been twisted into an elaborate crown of braids, her cheeks rosy. Her lips were apple red, her dress as white as snow. How innocent she appeared. Like the angel I’d first believe her to be. How deceptive.
She stood in the center of a crowd of servants, issuing instructions. Waiting for her to walk away proved difficult, but I managed. Then, it happened.
The moment she was alone in a hallway, I pasted on my game face and said, “Hello, Princess. It’s Stepmother dearest calling. How about we have ourselves a mother/daughter chat, hmm?”
Gasping, she spun. Her gaze darted this way and that as she searched for me.
“There’s a shard of glass in your pocket,” I said.
She withdrew it, changing my view. Our gazes locked.
The roses drained from her cheeks. “How are you doing this? You still wear the torque.”
I smiled slowly, tauntingly. “Do I?” I stroked Cuddles. “Do you like my dress? Your brother gave it to me. Just between us, I think he secretly hopes I’ll throw my heart in the ring and vie for his hand in marriage.”
“No. No! You’re in the tower. Trapped.”
“Maybe I’m standing right behind you.”
I knew chills had raced up her back when she whirled.
I laughed. “Made you look. With my illusion magic, I can become anyone. Just ask your brother. Or not. For all you know, I’ll don his face as soon as we end our conversation. I could be anyone, anywhere...”
“But—”
&n
bsp; “If you didn’t want to deal with an irate sorceress, you shouldn’t have locked anyone away.” I gave a mocking wave with my middle finger before dropping the glass and doing something I’d been dreading...
I stomped on my precious shard, ensuring Farrah couldn’t spy on me.
Would she come to the tower to make sure I was here? Hopefully, I’d instilled so much doubt, she wouldn’t trust anyone she came across, even Roth. She would need to see me in the tower first. If not...
I would deal. If the prince showed up in her stead, I would do to him what I planned to do to Farrah. Nothing would sway me from this path.
Tremors beleaguered me anew as I picked up the comb my spidorpions had stolen for me. Earlier I’d soaked its teeth in my blood. The poison would subdue my next visitor, whoever it happened to be, just long enough for me to enact stage three.
Come on, come on. “Where are you, Princess?”
Finally! Hurried footsteps. Panting breaths.
Relief showered me, drying my perspiration. “Get ready,” I whispered.
Metal clinked and hinges squeaked. Among my army, exhilaration skyrocketed. They’d waited for this moment, too.
Farrah stalked inside the cell, accompanied by a cloud of floral perfume. Two guards dogged her heels. More bodies than I’d hoped, but nothing I couldn’t handle. The door closed, sealing us all inside.
“You lied! I knew it!” Scowling, she raised her hand to blast me with a stream of ice. But she’d underestimated me and overestimated herself.
The mistake would cost her dearly.
I had already stretched out my hand. Now, I began to syphon, drawing as much power from her as I could. At the same time, Boomer, my feral cat, leaped onto her back, scratching her, while one of the snakes dropped from the ceiling to wrap around her wrists and press her hands together, “disarming” her. As she opened her mouth to scream for help, I struck, slamming the comb deep into her neck.
The poisoned prongs embedded in muscle. She jerked and collapsed, momentarily paralyzed. I dropped with her, shoving a rag into her mouth and securing it with a strip of fabric.
Phobia and Webster dove from my ears. One landed on each guard. A quick jab, jab of their stingers, and out popped their eyeballs. Oops.
Swords dropped. The guards dropped. A boa constrictor wrapped around each man’s mouth, squeezing to silence their screams. Other snakes bound their hands and wrists.
I continued to draw from Farrah. Using her power, her magic, I bound each of my foes with shackles of ice, freeing my army.
So close to freedom myself!
Farrah bucked, banging her head against the floor as if knocking on a door for help.
“Uh-uh-uh.” I tied her long braid around the leg of my bed, forcing her to still or go bald. Drawing, drawing...
I wanted more; I wanted all. Never again would Farrah have the means to harm me. Released from Roth’s compulsion, I would let nothing and no one stop me from draining this girl to death.
No! Resist temptation. If I killed her in cold blood, I would be a murderess. Officially. An evil act by an evil girl. More like Violet than I wanted to be.
There was still goodness inside me, and I would prove it.
“Keep the princess and guards quiet,” I told my army. “If the worst happens and our prisoners are discovered, run. We’ll meet in the Enchantian Forest.”
Farrah’s eyes spat contempt at me.
“We don’t have to be enemies just because fate decrees it.” I returned Phobia and Webster to my ears. “Let’s think this through. Prophecy says I try to kill you three times. First with the corset—done. Next with a comb—done. Finally with the apple. After that, you and Roth are supposed to kill me. In a very unheroic way, I might add. Except, multiple sources claim death could represent a new beginning. I want a new beginning. So, why don’t we jump to our happily-ever-after? You leave me alone, and I’ll leave you alone. Or ignore everything I’ve said and come after me. I’ll steal your magic, your title and your family. I’ll leave you destitute.”
Fury joined the contempt.
“Let’s be honest. You are dim-witted—even the Brothers Grimm knew it—and need time to consider my offer.” I reached into the wardrobe and selected an ivory half mask with wingtips on both sides, a fan of peacock feathers rising over the brow like a crown.
Giddier by the second, I approached my full-length mirrors. I’d lined them up side-by-side, one pressed against the other. “Mirror,” I said, taking a little more power from Farrah. Just a bit, yet it pitched through me, hot and bubbly.
Foreverly appeared in the glass. Today she wore bold makeup and an even bolder black gown, the deepest V showing off her cleavage. Spiked metal bands circled her neck, more deterrent than decoration—protection against a torque, no doubt.
“All hail the mighty Queen of Schemes and Poisons.” She smiled, proud, and curtsied. “You’ll be happy to know Princess Truly escaped the palace.”
Really? “When?”
“Only a few minutes ago. No one knows she’s missing—yet. She’s currently in the forest, meeting with Hartly, Warick, Nicolas and Ty.”
I had seen Hartly and the troll! But how had Truly gotten to the forest so quickly? “I will join them...later.”
“First, you must attend the ball,” Foreverly confirmed.
“Yes.” And not just to prove my strength. Vengeance beckoned...
Roth had ruined months of my life, so I would ruin his party.
“You cannot let him form a marriage alliance with Azul,” she said. “He will become too strong.”
“Stop a marriage. Check.” For me to strengthen, my foes had to weaken. “Can I bring others through the mirror?”
“Of course. I don’t want to brag, but I am pretty incredible.”
And modest. “Any advice for me, oh incredible one?”
“Yes,” Foreverly said and grinned. “Show no mercy.”
38
What’s theirs is yours.
Prepare for wars.
The throne room appeared in the glass next to Foreverly. The space brimmed with people and creatures, all having a merry time. The injustice of it... I rotted in a prison cell, everyone else indulged in frivolous fun.
Fury lashed my heart and dimmed the bliss of my escape.
Roth sat upon the throne, so beautiful it hurt to look upon him. I’d never seen him so dressed up. A white jacket fit him to perfection, molding to his muscles. Gold tassels lined the shoulders, and a golden sash slanted over his chest. A utility belt hung at his waist, sheathing daggers. Beige riding pants and knee-high black boots completed the look.
One suitress after another vied for his favor, hoping to win his hand in marriage. I couldn’t blame them. The king looked good—really, really good—but he was stiff and uncomfortable, even sulky. Why? And why did I still yearn to be in his arms?
An orchestra played a lovely song, and one of the girls began a slow, sensual dance for Roth. She had delicate features, long black hair and pale skin with a hint of blue. A Grecian white gown with spaghetti straps that crisscrossed in back molded to an hourglass figure. Like Reese, she had scales on her arms.
A mermaid shape-shifter? The siren duchess Farrah had mentioned? A shape-shifting swan, perhaps? I’d studied all three in the annals Roth had given me, fascinated by the undersea culture. Did this girl live underwater?
Everyone but Roth watched her, enraptured. Including me! Did she possess some kind of enchantress magic?
Why didn’t Roth succumb?
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, my ears twitching as a trio of girls held a whispered conversation.
“I hear she’s cursed.”
“I hear her voice makes men kill each other in a fit of jealous rage, so she hasn’t spoken in years.”
“It’s not her voice, it’s her song.
When she sings, people are enthralled and battles erupt.”
So. She was the siren, and she would be a wonderful ally to have...or a terrible enemy. I might risk her wrath to syphon some of her power.
Roth shifted to peer in the direction of my tower. Could he be...missing me?
I thrilled as I studied my new battleground. Armed guards were posted along the walls. Saxon stood at one side of the royal dais, and Vikander stalked through the crowd. Every avian wore a mask or headdress. A handful of the mer-folk wore one, as well. Though Noel and Ophelia had been dismissed, they were in attendance, too. They laughed loudly and danced with abandon.
“All right, my darklings,” I said, stroking Phobia and Webster. “Follow me into the throne room and hide. When I give the signal, attack.”
Twitters, chirps and hisses created a chorus of agreement.
I glanced at Farrah over my shoulder. “Don’t worry, stepdaughter. I’ll show Roth the same kindness you showed me.”
If looks could kill, I’d be bleeding out right now.
I laughed, the way Roth had once laughed at me. “You are adorable.”
My flippancy pushed her over the edge. She bucked and strained, despite her fear of my critters.
“Calm yourself, or you’ll miss the final stage of my plan.” I waved a hand, giving myself the face, hair, and skin of a supermodel I’d once seen in a magazine. Brown eyes, dark curly mane and bronze complexion. I took the disguise a step further, making the mask, gown and jewelry bloodred.
With the illusion in place, I didn’t need the mask, but I derived comfort in its cover.
Farrah bucked with more force, struggling to no avail.
“Now you know how I’ve felt all these months,” I said, and refocused on the mirror.
The party grinded on. Had Noel foreseen my attendance? Would she or Ophelia recognize me, despite the illusion? Probably. But I would proceed anyway.
Head high, shoulders back. Link with Farrah—still in place. Heart racing, I stepped forward, walking through the mirror. Warmth enveloped me, and I luxuriated. Different sounds erupted, some loud, some quiet. White lights exploded all around.
The Evil Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil) Page 40
