by D A Rice
The queen chuckled as she sat more comfortably in her seat, shifting her hip as she leaned her elbow over the arm of her chair lazily. “You always were so eloquent with words, William,” she replied with a dry amusement.
“Ah, if only Brie would agree with you.”
“Rear pocket.” Brie threatened the mirror again as she smacked the pocket in which Will currently resided. A muffled protest came from him, but he quieted again. The queen smirked before straightening slightly as Brie spoke, “upon further conversation, my queen, I believe that Eason was plucked from another world and deposited here. I do not believe it to be an accident, but of her choosing. I don’t know why his stories are not accurate, but clearly, if Snow can contact this boy,” she waved at Eason, who bit his lip, “it is plausible that she may have planted the story in someone else’s mind. Perhaps she has been trying to gain access to that world for the past fifty years, and is only now strong enough, or determined enough, to succeed.”
Eason tried not to blanch as he jolted in surprise, re-evaluating Brie’s face. Fifty years? How in the world was Brie still so young-looking? Did time flow so differently between the two worlds? It must, and it made sense in an odd sort of way. How else could Snow build up so much power to not only jump worlds, but bring someone back from one? He shivered and glance back up to the dais to find the queen studying him curiously. He bowed his head slightly, nerves building.
“Come forward, child,” the queen’s voice reached him, gentle and soft, not at all how Eason had expected it in this moment.
He glanced up at her from under his lashes, his head still bowed before glancing at Brie to his side. She nodded once. Eason straightened and slowly stepped forward. “My Queen?” he said, his hand coming up to his chest again, fist clenched. He had no idea what to do, or to say.
Fallon tensed next to Brie, his hand going to his sword hilt and moved as if to stop Eason from advancing. Eason had forgotten he was there, his movement startling him in the silence of the moment.
The queen lifted a hand toward the guard. “It is alright, Fallon of Brimwood. He will not harm me.”
Eason looked over at Fallon, licking his lips as the guard’s face changed with the queen’s words. Finally, Fallon seemed to compose himself and dutifully relaxed his posture, his face going blank except for his eyes, which held a warning in them.
The queen smiled in a soft amusement and crooked her finger at Eason again. He stepped cautiously forward, coming up to the dais steps. The queen leaned forward, her eyes intensely focused on his, then changed, almost losing focus, as if seeing him a different way. “Ah,” she breathed before leaning back marginally and re-focusing on him. “I see.”
“Mother?” Brie asked from behind him, a shuffle on the floor making him think she’d stepped forward. He tilted his head, his gaze moving to the queen’s in front of him. He was no longer nervous or afraid and found his hands relaxing. She smiled with a nod, her own hand coming up and resting over his on his heart. “Hold to that, child. For as long as is possible, hold to that.”
The queen stood then, looking to her daughter over Eason’s shoulder, who let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “This boy is under our protection, Brielle. He will stay with us from this point forward. His battle will not be a physical one, but a battle of the mind and heart.” Her gaze met Eason’s again and her eyes shone as he stepped back off the dais steps.
A hand on his back registered Brie steadying him from behind, the queen spoke again, “you will be locked into your room at night, my boy. It is for your own protection, as well as ours. During the day, I suggest you train. You will need to know how to fight on all grounds if we are to find Snow at our front door. The forest can only keep her for so long as she grows stronger.” She turned to the guard who had come in with them. “Fallon.”
Fallon hit his fist on his chest, his legs snapping together. “My Queen.”
“Go to the blacksmith and have him construct more armor, weapons, and helmets; then bring them to me for the spells they will require. I will be in my crypt, looking through all the books I own. We will keep Cylentra, and all within it, safe.” Here, the queen looked at Eason with a grin. “Including the boy brought to us from across worlds.”
Chapter 7
Fallon strode confidently and quietly before Eason. His pace was clipped, his face pinched. The guard was clearly not keen on keeping Eason here, but his duty and loyalty to the queen kept him silent. Eason could tell he wasn’t going to be easy to get along with as the guard led Eason to where his room would be. It was quite the walk from the throne room, up a few levels of stairs and in a drearier part of the palace. He could see the light was fading outside from the windows he passed. The light itself had a magical quality to it, as he paused briefly to take in the view. The land would be gorgeous, even at night. Cylentra had a certain charm that made Eason marvel at how such a place could hold an evil like Snow.
He still couldn’t believe that the stories all kids grew up on were real, much less nothing like he remembered. Snow was not the helpless child the queen tried to kill three times without success, just because she was far too trusting. It was a daunting difference between tale and reality. He couldn’t doubt what Brie said anymore, though. Even the queen spoke of Snow with a darkness in her eyes, a wariness.
His eyebrow furrowed as he contemplated evil in both worlds. That he’d unleashed it here was something he’d have to live with for the rest of his life. He sighed heavily. He wished Callie was here to help him. She’d know what to do about all this, how to keep his heart and sanity at peace. From up ahead, Fallon snapped a sharp command, causing Eason to jerk out of his thoughts and hurry after him.
As the two men fell into an awkward silence, Eason’s thoughts went back to his sleepwalking adventure from earlier. He didn’t want a repeat of the experience. It was one reason why he hadn’t argued when the queen had told him they were locking him in for his own safety.
Fallon pushed a door open with a creak and stood back, motioning for Eason to enter before him. Eason paused, surveying the room from outside. A plush, deep royal, purple-clad four-poster bed sat with black bars for posts and silky-looking drapes that drifted softly in a breeze. There were massive windows there, with neither screens nor glass.
It wasn’t cold. Eason wasn’t sure how cold it got here. If it got unbelievably cold, these guest rooms may not be used, or maybe they had something to cover the windows. There was an unlit fireplace buried in the wall, so maybe the latter. He saw an ornate rug underneath the bed and a black plush chair near a bookshelf, covered with older-looking books. Eason stepped up to the shelf, unconsciously running a hand over the bindings. Fallon followed him as far as the doorway, his fingers never quite leaving the hilt of his sword.
“I trust your accommodations are to your liking?” Fallon asked, not at all sounding as if he meant it. Eason glanced up at him before giving the massive windows the side eye.
“Yeah, I mean, of course! Anywhere to sleep is a good thing…I’m just a tad worried about the windows...” He hadn’t meant to state it so bluntly to this guard who didn’t seem to like him, but he couldn’t help voicing his fear.
Fallon’s eyes narrowed slightly as Eason paused, flinching at what he saw in the guard’s face. “Perhaps the windows should be the least of your concerns.”
Eason nodded, glancing back towards them again. “Yeah, no, of course. I just had this sleepwalking thing happen…” Eason trailed off, he didn’t have to explain himself to Fallon. The man clearly didn’t care about his problems, not that Eason blamed him for his coldness. He shrugged as he turned towards the window, again. “She shouldn’t have a strong hold on me here…right?” He asked, looking at the man in the doorway.
“Her powers are not strong right now, but they will grow as she gains strength,” Fallon replied, nonplussed. Eason let out a shuddering breath as he stared out across the land towards where the forest lay. He rubbed his chest, now more conscious o
f the fact as he pressed his lips tightly together.
After meeting the queen, Eason realized how serious this was, and that made it ten times more real for him. He wasn’t dreaming. He was in another world, and he was the reason things had gone from bad to worse. He wasn’t sure what to do, had no way of going home, and now he feared what Snow would do to him. He liked having his heart inside his chest. These worries and fears only made his time with Fallon all the more nerve-wracking. Eason couldn’t be sure the guard wouldn’t kill him right then. In fact, Eason got the sense that he would be all too happy to take his sword and pierce the heart Snow so coveted.
Fallon cocked an eyebrow at him. “If it’s a fall out the window you are worried about, it would probably be the best thing to happen to you. If you want to save your heart, that is. I would hold no sorrow, but your death is not what my queen or princess Brielle want. They feel you are important, whereas I would gladly find another way to stop Snow without you.” His brows furrowed deeply. “You had better hope that is the least that happens during your stay.” Fallon’s voice turned icy as he gave a shallow bow, his eyes shining fiercely as he met Eason’s gaze again. “Princess Brielle will be by later to escort you to dinner. She will then lock you into your room, per the queen’s demands.” With that, Fallon turned and marched off.
Eason let out a breath, his eyes finding the ceiling as he faced the bookshelf. “Well, that was comforting,” he mumbled. He inhaled again, his fingers grazing the shelf this time as he studied the books there, his head tilted curiously to the side. He wondered if he could gain a history lesson from these. Books had never steered him wrong before, at least not until very recently. Had that book come from Cylentra? he wondered, thinking of the one that brought him here. It’d come into the Book Shop out of nowhere, and he’d learned that most anything was possible. He pulled a large, brown, gold-lined volume out, the pages as thin as a Bible’s. He sat on the bed nearby with it, his fingers caressing the pages as he studied the words. He was marginally surprised when he could read them. “Cylentra, city of sorcery,” he read out loud, his hands smoothing down the pages.
“We have a history in Enchantra. It’s no wonder that even you, from another world, have heard stories. No matter how off-base they may be,” came a feminine voice from the doorway. Eason jumped, slamming the book shut between his hands. He exhaled in relief when he saw Brie leaning against the doorway.
“You scared the living daylights out of me.” His hand came to his heart as he fell back onto the bed. Her footsteps whispered as she entered the room, then she was peering over the side of the bed at him, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
“You are such a strange boy,” she said. She had changed into a tunic, removing her armor. Her hair was half up, half down, flowing over her shoulders. She also wore an elegant royal purple cloak draped over her shoulders, much like the captain wore over his armor. A warrior princess indeed. He smirked as he drank her in from where he lay.
“Yeah, I’ve been told.” He sat up, turning towards her on the bed. “So, city of sorcery?”
Brie sat down beside him, flipping her hair over one of her shoulders. “Indeed. Magic is everywhere in Enchantra. Partly because of Snow, we excel at harnessing that magic.”
“In war?” Eason asked curiously. He found it so easy to talk to her, especially in this comfortable setting. The room was different than he was used to, but it was far homier than the woods. It was medieval, with its stone walls and cool embrace, but he found that he didn’t mind it. All of this was an experience, and as it stood, it could be much, much worse.
Brie met his gaze, her shoulders relaxing as she smiled. “Not just in war, in many things. We have learned how to make flowers grow, how to keep the sky warm. We have learned to make it rain when it’s needed, and how to hunt with it.”
Eason remembered how she’d hunted in the woods. “Ah! So that’s how you got game every time. No wonder you’re so good!”
Brie’s gaze sparked with offense before softening at his teasing smirk. “I learned from the huntsman not to rely on magic. Snow let it corrupt her; I did not want to suffer the same fate. I learned how to survive without it. I can use almost any weapon I lay my hands on.” She stood, the long cloak she wore over her tunic flowing around her as she turned toward the window. “My mother is right about training you.”
Eason leaned across the bed, an eyebrow raised. “You’re willingly offering to train me?”
She laughed small, glancing back at him. “We shall see if the offer stands by the end of the night. Come.” She moved away and towards the door. “It is time to eat, then rest. You will need it.”
~
Eason, my love, why did you abandon me?
Abandon? Eason was dreaming. He knew he was, and yet, all he saw was her. Her porcelain skin, her red cheeks, her green eyes that sparkled. He could feel a burn in his chest, a longing that needed to be fulfilled.
Yes, you left me, my love. You, who has my heart. I long for your kiss. He could feel her hands in his hair, caressing his face as he stared up at her. His head was in her lap and he closed his eyes, sinking into her touch. The red ribbon in her hair tickled his face as she leaned over him, his eyes fluttering open once again. He could see the blue bosom of her dress as she tilted his chin up, her sweet, red lips hovering over his own. You must come to me, she whispered across his mind before touching his lips in the gentlest of ways…
Eason bolted up in his bed, his head screaming at him as he fisted the cloth over his heart. He’d been given a tunic of his own to sleep in, his jeans and shirt folded neatly on the chair next to his bed. He clutched his head, pulling on his white-blonde strands, trying to force his mind to obey him. Brie had told him to focus on his pain. He couldn’t lose himself now.
He stumbled out of bed, desperate to replace the burning void in his chest that Snow had left with her dream. He could hear her haunting laughter in the back of his mind, like tiny bells, even now. He needed something else to focus on, before the numbness took over. He crawled on the floor to the fireplace, one hand still fisted in the shirt above his heart. Pulling out an iron poker, he braced himself, eyeing the wound that was still healing on his hand. Before he could think twice about it, he stabbed the fire poker into his palm, reopening the laceration as an agonized yelp escaped him.
He fell back against the wall as the pain in his hand instantly cleared his head, and he heard the clang of the fire poker as it fell next to him. Every inch of him was sweating.
His door handle jiggling rapidly caused him to jump as Brie clanged the door open in a rush. Her eyes swept the room, taking in the fallen sheets and books that toppled off the bookshelf in Eason’s haste. They fell on the fire poker beside him, and then finally his bloody hand. Her eyes narrowed as she strode over to him, kicking aside the poker and kneeling before him, her hand coming up to his brow. “It was her again, wasn’t it?”
Eason couldn’t talk, fatigue crashing over him in an instant as he nodded. Brie scowled and lifted his hand as it dripped steadily onto the floor. She pulled out a handkerchief from her tunic pocket, then cleaned up the blood as best she could. Then, she wrapped the handkerchief around his palm. Clasping his hand between hers, she met his forehead with her own, as she had in the woods only days ago. She centered him, encouraging him to focus solely on her.
“You still resist,” she said softly, forcing him to meet her gaze. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be awake and bleeding right now. Take comfort in this fact.”
He shook his head, his eyes wandering to the window. “Maybe Fallon was right,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Brie’s gaze followed his own before narrowing. “Don’t you even dare.” She forced his chin to meet her gaze again, her fingers fierce. “This will only get worse before it gets better. If you so much as think of jumping out of that window, I will kill you myself.”
Eason’s eyes widened fractionally, “but wouldn’t it be better for everyone if…”
/> Brie yanked on his chin again and he flinched. “Eason, there is something you should know about me,” she said, voice dangerously low. When Eason only blinked, Brie’s grip lightened, and she sat back. Her eyes watched him intensely. “I keep my word, and if you look towards that window one more time, I promise I will throw you out of it. You have a reason for fighting as you do. I can see it in you. I will not waste such potential.” Brie took his hand and checked the binding once more before standing. “Now, get up and dressed. We have some pre-dawn training to accomplish. You will not see Snow’s face again this day.”
Eason grabbed her hand before she could turn. “How did you get here so fast?”
Brie hesitated. “You are in my wing, Eason. You are my charge and I am a very light sleeper.” She touched a cord around her neck. “I am also your jailer. Does it not make sense that I would be nearby?”
Eason nodded, accepting this. “Will the mirror be joining us?” He could feel the life coming back into him as he teased her, but he could feel the fatigue surface again as well.
She smiled, standing. “He would not miss this for the world, Eason Grey.”
Chapter 8
Eason stood in the training yard with a wooden sword. He’d changed into a training tunic, borrowed from the guards’ quarters, and some simple leather armor. They weren’t a complete set, but they covered necessary pieces of him from permanent damage. Brie swung her own wooden sword before him as she circled in an almost predatory way. They paced the circular arena with its wooden dummies off to the side and sand underneath their feet. The walls were high and it was early enough in the morning that the sun cast a soft glow about the place. The only sound, other than a few chirps now and again, was the sand moving beneath their feet as they scuffled.
After she’d warmed up sparring with other guards, Brie asked Fallon to empty out the place, then told him to go as well. Eason could tell the guard hadn’t liked the idea much, but he’d complied with a stiff bow. Eason had a feeling that Brie had something to do with the fierce gaze Fallon fixed him with before he’d left. He hadn’t meant to get the guard in trouble.
