by Jenni James
“The only way to defeat her is to kill her. We need someone who can get close enough to lunge a sword into her shoulder from above. This type of sorceress will only die if the blade pierces through her left shoulder downward into her heart and then left kidney. It is a swift move and I have only ever seen it perfectly executed once. If you falter or slip at all, then all the advantage will be given to her and she will annihilate you.”
Darién expelled a breath and uttered, “This is why she needed me, is it not?”
“It is.” The unicorn was grave. “We have been waiting years for you, your Highness.”
“What if I fail?”
“You cannot.”
“But what if I do?”
Ezralon raised his brows. “Then you do.”
Darién matched his stare. “And…?”
“Yes?”
“And what does that mean?” He walked over to the grimy end table, turning his back to them all.
Ezralon’s deep voice vibrated through the great room. “I do not know. Perhaps it means if you die, then it breaks the enchantment and she is Villeria’s forever. Perhaps it means the queen goes back to sleep again. Perhaps it means all of us die. Perhaps it means—”
“Perhaps it means you fail,” Michael interrupted. “But you will not, Darién. I know you will not. I have faith in you. I have faith in your abilities. I have seen you on the field these many years and have never met nor seen your match. You are the man for this situation—you are the only one.”
Darién turned back around and faced his friend. They stared long and hard at one another across the room for some time, before the prince nodded his head once. “Thank you.”
Michael snapped to awareness. “We must sort the rest of this out before she gets here. I for one would like to go home to my dear wife and children when this is all over—and I’m certain George here would love to eat at least one more meal before he perishes.”
“Hey.” He grinned. “Quite true, I would.”
“So, young man,” Ezralon glanced at the prince, “our lives are within your capable hands it would seem. I suggest we devise a plan to get you as close to her as soon as possible and end this without any more damage than necessary.”
“Or die trying,” mumbled Darién.
“Or die trying.”
“Marvelous. Then let us get to work.” Michael rubbed his hands together and smiled. “I believe we have got ourselves a sorceress to out master.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ALEYNA SLIPPED THE PEARLESCENT shimmery gown over her head and examined the wistful folds through the dusty looking glass in the old servants’ quarters. Humphrey had removed himself, like a true gentleman, when they had found the garment and now waited patiently for her on the other side of the door. “It is so beautiful,” she whispered out loud.
It was the gown her mother had worn to dress as an angel all those many years ago. She sighed as she swayed back and forth letting it dance about her ankles in delicate waves. The gown was slim fitting, long sleeves and shot through with an intricate weaving of silver thread. It was simply breathtaking and the perfect foil for a defense against Villeria.
Quickly tucking her hair around the silver and sapphire circlet she had collected from her mother’s ravaged bedroom, she secured the crown upon her head and gasped at the image before her. For a split second there, it was as if she were looking at her own mother gazing back at her.
Aleyna stared at the image of herself for some time, allowing herself to feel the intensity of all the evil Villeria had caused her family, her life, her future. The horrid pain her people suffered on her behalf was too much to bear. She touched the faint image of her mother, her fingers caressing the looking glass briefly as one small tear trailed down her cheek.
The horror, the blazing screeches, the searing pain, it was all there for her to witness in the back of her memory, but she held fast to this image—to the beloved mother who once was, and is no longer. To see her beautiful, tall, stately…she could almost make out her melodious voice whispering to her to be strong, to be valiant, to be fearless.
Suddenly, a small wisp of white and bluish smoke swirled around her wrist and connected the touching fingers through the looking glass, it was mesmerizing and captivating to watch it interlace and dance its way about her soft hand. It created a strange tickling sensation as it began to lace itself up and around her arm. Woven sparkles and spellbinding smoke worked its way around her shoulders and down the other arm as well.
So stunning, so magical. Aleyna had never seen anything quite so mystical and perfect before. There was such joy surrounding the intertwining threads of smoke and it enhanced the dress perfectly, as if leaving a plaited spell upon her. Was it some kind of protection enchantment her mother was sending her? Would this guarantee safety for them all?
Enthralled, Aleyna watched as the smoke skipped its way down her dress and caressed the dainty slippers beneath, then skittered and hopped its way upon the floor marking a path to pursue deeper into the attics. Collecting her skirts she quickly followed the delightful trail through a primeval doorway and proceeded to climb up an old rickety staircase she had never been before—it looked to be the ancient bell tower her father refused to use.
The enchanting white wisps shone brightly against the faded and worn staircase and lit the way quite nicely. Curiosity loomed as she stepped into the departing sunshine of the sunset as it poured into the little cozy room. Here it was glorious, it was clean—it was as if the room had stayed miraculously untouched as all the castle withered around it.
“Mother?” she asked, turning and scanning the space about her.
In the corner the white smoke began to weave and change and transform in front of her, its delicate wisps forming something quite tangible, quite solid and intricate. It took a few moments to realize it was her mother’s spindle coming to life. The dear spindle her father had finally tossed into the fire all those years ago—it had belonged to her great-grandmother, but had decayed to such a point, infested with termites, they had to get rid of the thing. Yet, here it was—with the identical patterned floral designs upon the shaft!
“Mother? Is it you?”
She stepped forward, her fingers lovingly tracing the gold painted leaves across the wood. “I cannot believe this is here. How you would love to see this right now. Oh, Mother, where are you?”
The wisps of smoke appeared again and encircled her fingers as they caressed the wood. It dancing and skittered its way up the spindle drawing and pulling her hand along. Weaved within its magic Aleyna smiled as the sparkly wisps played and tugged against her fingertips urging them onward right to the very tip of the needle—all shiny and new—within its wooden clasp. Brightness filled the room as her hand obeyed the insistent enchantment, her fingers tracing the needle all the way to the tip.
“Ouch.” She pulled back, the smoke dissipating instantly and she swayed as she watched the crimson bead form upon her fingertip. It enlarged and spilled down to splatter against the pristine woven carpet upon the floor beneath her. Watching the droplet of blood fall, the room began to spin slightly. She felt ill and a little bit woozy.
“Mother?” she gasped out, before stumbling to stand upright.
Something was wrong. She was not well. Taking a ginger step forward, she collapsed upon her knees, her hands bracing her fall became too weak and she crumbled into a sphere of swirling skirts and long dark hair. The dainty crown slipped from her forehead and rolled in front of her view. Aleyna watched as it teetered and collapsed—much the same as she had done—before her eyes became too heavy and all the world went black.
Instantly Villeria appeared in a sea of blue-green film and wisps and grinned down upon the sleeping girl before her. That was simply the easiest thing she had ever done. She crouched and lowered herself, her emerald skirts billowing around her, and mumbled a bit of unintelligible words over the motionless form. She grinned as the little queen disappeared from the room altogether.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EZRALON WAS SO CAUGHT up in discussing strategies that even he was taken by surprise at Villeria’s sudden appearance. No familiar warning had come, no inkling that all was about to begin—just woosh—and then Villeria appeared before them, in all her fiery-haired glory.
“Ahh!”
The men jumped up and scrambled to get away from the sorceress, their hands going to the hilts of their swords.
“I would not touch those if I were you,” she calmly stated. “Where is the girl I have come for?”
Darién glanced out the door, praying Aleyna would not choose this moment to make an appearance. “She is safe.”
“Oh, is she?” Villeria took another step toward him and grinned. “So are you the charming prince who has finally released the enchantment, then? Are you her dear savior?”
“I am Prince Darién of Lybrooke Court. Who are you?”
“You know full well who I am, boy. Do not patronize me.” Her eyes snapped for a moment before cooling into a chilly stare. “Where is the girl I seek? Where is my prize? I am here for her now. I have waited decades and I will not be thwarted longer.” She pointed to Darién and then the door. “Go fetch her, brave one, and bring her back alive or I will destroy you all.”
Darién glanced at Ezralon. The unicorn nodded his head to leave and Michael said, “We will be fine—go.” The look he gave Darién indicated he wanted him to run with Aleyna somewhere far and out of harm’s way.
“Will you swear an oath to keep them safe until I return with her?” Darién asked.
She smiled a sly smile and jutted out her hip. “Why? So when you return you can face me all together? Do you truly believe that will save you or them?”
Darién pulled out his sword and took a step forward. “Or we could end this now.”
“No!” Ezralon stepped forward.
Villeria laughed, a low deep chuckle. “Please, my dear, do not mock me or tempt me. I am in a playful mood at the moment, I suggest you do my bidding and be quick about it, or I may not be quite so friendly for much longer.”
“Are you threatening me?”
Her smile lingered, though her eyes became ice. “It is a simple fact. I do not enjoy being disobeyed. I suggest you fetch her now.”
“Go, Darién. We will be fine until you return.” Michael looked over at George, who nodded his head.
Ezralon’s horn shone brightly for a moment, drawing all eyes his way, before he stated, “There. All will be well until you return with Aleyna.”
“What did you do?” Villeria growled, her dressed swirling as she walked up to the beast. “I am through with your interference, and your belittling ways.”
“I do not belittle you, Villeria, I simply thwart what you are attempting to do from time to time.”
“I will not tolerate this! You may be an untouchable creature—but there are ways around every law of magic. I will not allow you to continue to govern my reign unjustly—“
“Go now, Darién. We are fine.”
Darién did not wait another moment, he fled the room and up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time, determined to locate the attics and remove Aleyna from the vicinity as soon as possible. Ezralon promised they would all be safe until he came back with the queen—so what happened if he never returned with her? Would not that logically signify that all will be safe? He could not risk the uneasy questions to plague his mind until he could sort out a better answer. As he rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, he was surprised to see Humphrey lounging his shoulder against the door frame of a room a few feet from him.
“What are you doing in the hallway? Where is Aleyna?”
Humphrey started at the sound of the prince’s voice and then quickly answered, “I left her some time ago to change into the gown we had found.”
Darién brushed past and knocked upon the door. “Aleyna, are you finished? I need you to come with me now.”
“What is amiss? Is the sorceress nearly here?”
When the queen did not answer, Darién rapped louder. “Aleyna! Aleyna? Are you there?” To Humphrey he answered, “She is here. Villeria is downstairs at this moment. Aleyna!”
“What?! Are you jesting?”
Darién shoved his shoulder against the door and burst into the empty room. There was no sign of the queen anywhere, though her old dress was laying upon an open chest full of clothing and the like. “Where is she?” he asked. His feet quickly walking around the large room. “Aleyna? Are you here?”
“What do you mean Villeria is here? Already? How could she have come so fast?”
“I do not know. It was a surprise to us—Aleyna! Aleyna, where are you?” Reaching the other side of the room, he whipped around to Humphrey. “Where is she? Are you certain she did not leave that door?” He pointed the way they had just come in.
“Positive.”
“How long did you leave her alone?”
“Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. No longer. I swear.”
“ALEYNA!” he shouted, turning about the room. He caught a glimpse of an old spiral staircase that led upwards. Without another thought Darién ran up the stairs to find an decrepit abandoned room—the ropes of the bells dangling near his shoulder, Humphrey was close behind. He could just make out faint footprints marked in the dust, and a larger cleared off section, where it looked like someone or something had recently lied down. In the corner was a royal crown, completely out of place. “She has been here.”
“Where did she go?”
“Villeria! She must have her.” Darién rushed past Humphrey and back down the stairs again. He was nearly out the door heading toward the main staircase when Humphrey caught up.
“Where are you going?”
“She just showed up out of the middle of nowhere, just poofed into existence. None of us were prepared for her at all. Which means, if she can do that to herself, then why can she not do the same to someone else? She most likely has Aleyna somewhere none of us would ever think to look. Hidden in some forest cave or cottage or something.”
“So you are going to rush to the forest and attempt to find a needle in a haystack?” Humphrey asked as they began to ascend the stairs.
“I will do anything to save the woman I love.” His frustration was telling. “How dare Villeria toy with me in such a manner? I will leave at once.”
“Wait!” Humphrey grabbed his elbow, halting them both, as they were about to descend the next landing. “The queen is not allowed to leave this castle unless it is with you, correct?”
Darién’s eyes widened. “Great goodness, she is here!” He clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Well done, you. Well done. I would have searched the forest for years and never found her.” He spun around on his heel upon the landing uncertain as to where to search for her first. Should he go up or down? Left or right?
“If you were an evil sorceress where would you keep your bait safe?” asked Humphrey, his mouth grinning ever so slightly.
“Where do you think she has kept her?”
“Well, reflect on every legend you have ever known to have read or heard of. Where do all evil things dwell and where does all the mischief in the end happen?”
Darién’s eyes met Humphrey’s. “The dungeon.”
Humphrey nodded. “Of course.”
“Unless she wanted to do some serious mental damage, and then we may find her in her parents’ chambers upstairs, alone and frightened and remembering their deaths, or something equally terrifying,” the prince answered.
“If she was awake.”
“What if she has harmed her?” Darién’s stomac
h dropped.
“I will search upstairs—the whole of the upstairs—the sorceress may not know I am here. You search below and I will find you if I locate her first.”
“Thank you. Keep her safe, my lord, keep her safe.”
Humphrey nodded. “I vow I will die before she is harmed.”
“Godspeed.” Darién turned and worked his way down the steps as he heard Humphrey bounding back up the way they had been. He was blessed to have such brave men as friends and could not bear the thought of losing one. However, the notion of Aleyna alone and trapped somewhere, afraid, horrified him much more.
Making his way into the kitchen, he followed the steps down to the cellar. Collecting a torch from the wall, he located the flint upon a nearby shelf and struck it on the chiseled stone archway, and lit the old oil-covered cloth—thankfully it ignited without hesitation. Another few more rooms and he found a wooden door built into the floor. When he lifted it, there were stone steps leading into the damp darkness below.
“Aleyna,” he called, his voice ricocheting off the walls. “Aleyna, are you down here?” He stepped into a large main area, with several offshoots of rooms and cells around him.
The rooms were black and terrifying, a dank stench met his nostrils as his light revealed chained bones of the deceased that clung to the stone within almost all of the chambers’ cells, obviously forgotten prisoners of long ago.
He came upon a long twisted damp hallway to the side of one of the cells and rushed down it, his lungs heavy with the foul, moist smells and the pressure of the cavern. It was extremely chilly and forbidding down here in the depths of the castle. His light flickered against the walls, heralding the way deeper beneath the belly of the castle, when all at once, the winding hall ended. He stepped into the pitch black room, its iron doors open.
There was something remarkably different about this room, it was as if the atmosphere was denser here, as if he were not alone.
“Aleyna?” he whispered as his torch flickered to the left, caressing the barren mud and stone fortress, then slowly he turned toward the right, surrounded in heavy silent darkness—the only source of light dancing merrily against the eeriness. His heart began to pound as he inched the torch around the larger twenty foot room, though it was not until he turned fully that he knew he was most definitely not alone.
