The Evil Queen

by Showalter, Gena

  “So you’ll keep me here? Locked away?” I palmed my daggers, even as one of the tears escaped, sliding down my cheek. “I’m leaving this palace one way or another.”

  A shadow passed through her eyes, there and gone, as if she’d summoned a vile wind inside herself. “I remember cursing my husband for his seer magic. Evil magic. He learned of my plans to flee and stopped me. I seized the opportunity to save one daughter, only one. I agonized over who to pass to Aubrey, finally deciding to keep the quiet one. She could be hidden, you could not. I grieved for you, but finally, blessedly, I let go.” She stood, her movements as fluid as molten gold. “To ensure the king spared Truly, I made a deal with a devil. But I worried day and night. How long until Stephan changed his mind and struck us down? For years, I saved every jewel, every coin, and sold everything I valued. Last week, I had enough. I paid witches to transfer his power to me. I smiled as he died. And now, you have come back, threatening to ruin everything I’ve fought to build.”

  Emotion clogged my throat. “I only wished to meet my mother. To love her.” To be loved by her in return.

  “Liar! You think I haven’t pondered the prophecy and figured out who is who?” she spat. A great wind kicked up, blowing her hair around her face. “I have. I know. You are an extension of Stephan, the Queen of Evil, and I will die before I let you win.”

  I stumbled back. Bleeding inside. Dying? She’d compared me to a murderer of innocents. Someone despised, unloved and unwanted.

  This woman...she might have loved me once, but no longer, and never again. She didn’t just hate me; she blamed me for any evil to come.

  “Seize her!” she shouted now.

  All five guards sprinted my way. Seize me? I sputtered. She couldn’t be serious. But a guard reached me and swung a spear, not to seize me—to kill me.

  Neurons started firing in my brain again. I dove and rolled across the floor, bypassing my attacker without injury. As I straightened, my birthmark heated, and Noel’s voice filled my head.

  —Here’s hoping I timed this right. Are you currently in danger?—

  Yes! If the guards caught me, I would die here, alone and forgotten.

  —How exciting. For me! I’m getting good at sensing danger and reaching out. Let’s take a moment to consider the impressiveness of my skill.—

  Another guard reached me. I ducked and dodged and evaded. I needed to make arrangements, just in case.

  Noel, I need you to hear my next words. Do not let Ophelia take Nicolas and Hartly to Airaria. Okay? All right? Promise me.

  —You have my word. The witch will never take Hartly and Nicolas to Airaria. She will never take Hartly to Airaria, period. Now, use your magic, escape the palace and kick-start your job interview.—

  One worry alleviated, at least. I would love to escape. Tell me how—never mind. I could walk through a mirror. Duh! Simple, easy. If I could wield my magic under pressure and if I reached that wall of mirrors in time.

  As the guards herded me away from my destination, Noel twittered happily. —There’s the girl I pre-know and pre-love.—

  Left with no other choice, I charged toward two of my opponents, dropped and slid closer on my knees. If you couldn’t outrun them, hobble them. With my daggers, I jabbed kneecaps and severed Achilles tendons. Howls of pain. Blood.

  No mercy.

  I took a boot to the side, and my lungs hemorrhaged air. Stars winked through my vision. Another kick left me wheezing, but I rolled with it and kicked back, my boot slamming into the underside of my opponent’s chin. Pop. Bone cracked.

  With an open path, I ran. Closer to the mirror... Argh! Another guard jumped in my path.

  —Go ahead. Use her magic.—

  Whose? Foreverly’s? How?

  —I say the name, and you waste precious seconds questioning and doubting me. Been there, seen that. So figure it out and use her freaking magic.—Irritation and impatience dripped from the oracle’s tone.

  A spear whizzed past my shoulder. The vibrations rattled me, and I paused, shocked. How close I’d come to death.

  Back in motion. Running, spinning to dodge, running again, faster and faster...almost there... The mirrors beckoned. Literally! Foreverly consumed the glass, reaching for me.

  “Hurry,” she commanded.

  Trying! I zigzagged.

  —Do you want to live, or do you want to die? Asking for a friend. Use. Her. Magic.—

  Her who? What else could I do, what other magic could I wield? Think!

  Someone snagged the hem of my cloak, yanking me backward. As I fell, I kicked. My boots met his snack basket. Score one, Everly.

  Freed once more, I surged forward. Faster... Come on, come on.

  Another guard jumped into my path. Obstacle. I stabbed him in the thigh, warm blood gushing over my hand. He toppled and writhed in pain. I wanted to weep. I’d just hurt someone, maybe fatally.

  Another worry for later.

  Thoughts whirling. The only other ability I possessed—the maybe-maybe not syphoning of other people’s power. My eyes widened. Yeah. That. That was what Noel had meant.

  I needed to syphon. But how? If ever I’d drained anyone—don’t think about Mom, not now—the mechanics of it eluded me; I’d done it automatically, subconsciously.

  Another spear. This one grazed my biceps, cutting skin and muscle. Pain singed me, and I cried out.

  “Hurry,” Violet shouted. “End her!” She waved her hand, unleashing a savage wind, knocking down her own men.

  I managed to dive away. Another spear sliced me, cutting into my side. More pain, another cry.

  —As soon as you finish playing tag with the royal guards, I’ll send someone to patch you up. Noel, signing off to get poop done. By the way, mortal vernacular is atrocious. Tootles.—

  On my own? But...but...

  The doors swung open and the rest of Violet’s armed force began filing into the room to surround me, blocking Foreverly. I whimpered. Trapped?

  Violet stalked closer, menace in every step. Her men parted. Suddenly, I had a straight shot. If hands were conduits for magic... Here goes nothing. I stretched out my arm. My fingertips heated, tingles hurrying toward my elbow, my shoulder.

  The queen frowned and slowed. Was I doing it, syphoning? If so, I should be able to summon gale-force winds.

  Use her ability, Noel had said. Her. Maybe she had meant the evil queen. Just not me or Foreverly—not today, at least. I had to try.

  Pushing through the pain, I waved my free hand toward the guards who obstructed the mirrored wall. A strong gust of wind sent them staggering to the side.

  Yes, I had syphoned.

  I was a sorceress, no question.

  Though I hadn’t exhibited the same forceful intensity as the queen, I’d exhibited enough. A new path opened up.

  “No,” Violet shouted as I hobbled forward. “Do not allow her to—no!”

  Finally, I reached my destination. I didn’t know if anyone would or could follow me, but I extended my arm and clasped Foreverly’s hand.

  As Violet screeched, “Fetch my centaurs. They’ll find her, one way or another,” the throne room vanished, a familiar warmth and darkness washing over me.

  Where would my heart lead me this time?

  11

  For all the warnings you failed to heed,

  prick your heart and let it bleed.

  Pain consumed me inside and out. Physical. Emotional. I had no defenses, every inch of me raw and agonized.

  My birth mother had ordered centaurs to find and kill me, and I’d effectively proven Nicolas’s suspicions. I was a sorceress, and I had drained Aubrey to death.

  Everly is a danger to you.

  I didn’t have the strength to build another wall around my heart, and I didn’t have time to mourn. What I did have? An unshakable desire to survive. I turn
ed and slammed my fist into the glass I’d just exited. Shards tinkled to the ground. New pains burned my knuckles, warm blood trickling, but no one would follow me through.

  Where was I? I tried to focus, but my vision remained blurred, so I listened instead. No voices. Birds, a rush of water.

  Cool, crisp air caressed my face. Already on my knees, I burrowed my hands into warm earth, not wet enough to be classified as mud, but not dry enough to be sand. Had I left Airaria?

  Inhale. I detected pine, wildflowers and honeysuckle, but no jasmine, Violet’s scent.

  Hate jasmine!

  I rubbed my eyes until the blur faded, then looked around. A multitude of trees, some with black bark, others covered with glowing lichens or dotted with green slime. Still others had gnarled limbs dripping with ripe red apples.

  Noticing a familiar blue glow ghosting through the shadows, I sagged with relief. I’d reached the Enchantian Forest, the same spot I’d seen in a vision.

  But why had my heart led me here, and who had left a full-length mirror out in the open? Noel?

  Whatever. I had a decision to make. Hole up where I was or try to move on without bleeding out. Both options had risks and rewards. I just had to—

  A strong arm slid under my knees and another pressed against my lower back, lifting me up. Fear and fury collided, reducing me to a short-fused bomb. I erupted, struggling for freedom. But I was weak, and the gash in my side opened up, spilling more of my blood. Once again, my vision hazed.

  Still I thrashed. I might go down, but I’d never go down easy.

  “Whoever you are, you have five seconds to put me down.” Unless this was the person Noel had sent to patch me up?

  Crickets sang and locusts buzzed. Snakes hissed. But my captor remained silent.

  His arms...what were those jagged, scratchy protrusions? Other details filtered into my awareness. He projected zero heat, smelled like maple and held my body away from his. I felt like I was floating.

  Without a word, he passed me off to someone who smelled like smoke. The new person carried me a short distance before passing me off to another. This guy smelled like pine.

  I concentrated on my breathing until the haze faded, revealing—

  Branches? My jaw dropped. Trees were carrying me, not people. I didn’t... I couldn’t... The trees weren’t walking around, using their roots as legs, but they were leaning, leaning to “hand” me off. A vine curled around my shoulder and side, applying pressure to my wounds to slow the flow of blood.

  During the next handoff, a velvet soft leaf caressed my cheek with...affection? Were trees sentient? Being commanded by the nymph, Allura, perhaps? Maybe they were under a witch’s spell.

  Decision time. I could continue to resist without results, or I could conserve what little energy I had, attacking only if provoked.

  Talk about a no-brainer.

  I relaxed into the limbs. “Be gentler, okay?” Expecting trees to talk back? I kind of...did. Because, why not?

  And maybe they could talk back. Whispers drifted on the breeze, though they were too gossamer to decipher. However, I knew the trees had understood me. The handoffs did soften.

  Minutes later—an eternity—I was eased onto a bed of moss, next to a pond so clear I had a perfect view of the gemstones scattered across the bottom. Sapphires, rubies and emeralds, oh, my.

  A short distance away, a lovely girl emerged from a tangle of shadows. She had curly brown hair, rich brown eyes and flawless brown skin, all familiar to me. Ophelia, the witch who’d visited Aubrey.

  She approached, fearless, saying, “I am Ophelia de Luc, and you are Everly Morrow, princess extraordinaire. Noel has told me much about you.”

  In person, she pulsed with divine power. All I could think: I can steal it, the way I stole from Violet... Anything to better protect myself.

  Hurt someone who’d come here to help me? No!

  “Go ahead. Try to syphon my power, like a true sorcerian.” She spit the last word like a curse. “I really want to hate you.”

  “I do want to syphon from you,” I admitted, and she blinked with surprise. “Don’t hurt me, and I won’t hurt you.”

  “Why don’t I believe you? Oh, yes. I remember. Because your kind has slaughtered mine for centuries, performing countless witch-sacrifices to steal our abilities. I’ve lost family, friends.”

  “I’m sorry. I am. But I am not responsible.”

  “You’re right. Which is why you are the only sorceress in existence who need not fear me. As Noel has told me repeatedly, our fate is tied to yours.”

  Good to know.

  “Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Ophelia spread her arms wide. “I will aid you...for a price.”

  “If your fate is truly tied to mine, my acceptance of your aid is payment enough.”

  She chuckled. “Smart girl. Unfortunately for you, I will spite myself to spite others. If you want my services, you’ll pay for them, just like everyone else. Only fools work for free.”

  Agreed. I pushed anyway. “Consider this a taste test of sorts, so I know if you’re worth the hassle in the future.”

  Another chuckle. “How about this? I’ll patch you up and answer any questions you have without charging you double. A two for one special.”

  “What do you want from me? I have zero money.” I had one jewel, but there was no way I’d give up Aubrey’s ring.

  I miss you, Momma. One day, I might use that ring to prove my existence to the citizens of Airaria. I might take the crown from Violet.

  A tendril of satisfaction unfurled deep inside me. Destroy the mother who’d tried to murder me? Lay siege to the very thing she’d striven to deny me?

  Maybe I was destined to become the Evil Queen, because a secret part of me thrilled over the idea. That part of me even admired EQ.

  She had her faults, yes. She obsessed over beauty, and had tried to murder her daughter/stepdaughter, but she’d had a goal, and she’d stuck with it. Honestly, if she’d used her wits and power for something less nefarious, she might have been touted as a great role model.

  Another option: I wasn’t the Evil Queen—Violet was.

  I hadn’t grown up around her, so our connection had a very stepmother/stepdaughter feel. But that would make me Snow White. Roth’s love interest...and a class dum-dum who fell for an evil woman’s tricks not once, not twice, but thrice.

  But how would my seer magic fit in such a scenario? In no version did Snow White commune with mirrors.

  Symbolism, maybe? The Evil Queen’s vanity destroyed her, the mirror acting as Snow White’s greatest weapon.

  A possibility, yes, so why did I feel like I was grasping at straws? And what of Hartly? Truly? Up for grabs: the Huntsman, the Seven Dwarfs, the deer the Huntsman killed, the blade he used and the apple.

  The Huntsman betrayed the Evil Queen and protected Snow White. Only one person would struggle against a betrayal of Violet—Truly. Hartly would struggle against a betrayal to me.

  The Seven Dwarfs protected Snow White. Hartly would die for me if necessary.

  Maybe I was Snow White.

  “Pay attention. You’re fading in and out,” Ophelia said, yanking me back into the present. “You asked about payment. Easy. I want your firstborn.”

  “What!”

  My shout echoed through the trees, a school of birds taking flight.

  “I tease, I tease,” she said with a grin. “As if I’d want your squalling brat. If ever you are crowned queen, you will give safe harbor to Noel and to me. No matter the kingdom, and no questions asked.”

  Let’s face it. I might not ever rule a kingdom. But even still, unease slithered through me. Why? Did it matter? The witch’s aid might be the difference between life and death.

  “Give me a sample of the kind of answers you’re offering,” I said.

  She
thought for a moment. “You probably wonder how I found Princess Aubrey in the mortal world. The answer is Noel. The answer is always Noel. She sees far, and she sees wide. Timing matters. Long ago, seeds were planted. Now the harvest has come.”

  “Actually, I didn’t wonder. I knew.” I remembered Ophelia talking to Mom the night she and Nicolas fought. I could put two and two together.

  She cracked the bones in her hands, as if preparing for a fight. “Very well. I will tell you all about Nicolas Soren.”

  Well. Like a good salesman, she’d just reeled me in hook, line and sinker.

  Could I trust her? I didn’t even trust Noel, not 100 percent, and she’d saved my life. Both girls were mysteries to me.

  Black dots wove through my vision, and I decided I had to trust her. I might not survive otherwise. “For safe passage in my kingdom, you will patch me up, vow not to harm my sisters and answer all of my questions honestly. If you later betray me, I will...” What? Nothing sounded violent enough. I let her imagination fill in the blank.

  “Deal,” she said, no hesitation, and I knew I’d somehow been played.

  “Then do your worst, witch.”

  She shrugged. “I came prepared to do my best, but I’ll do as Her Highness desires.”

  “No, no. I’ll take your best,” I rushed out.

  Chuckling, she crouched beside me. As she ripped through my T-shirt, cool air left me shivering.

  Disney met horror as birds flew over, hovering around her, with different items dangling from their beaks. Thorns, vines, rags.

  Ophelia claimed the rags and washed blood and debris from my wounds. I jerked and twisted when she shoved a thorn beside every gash. White-hot licks of fire shot down my sides. Too much! My back arched, a scream tearing from my throat. But within seconds, a strange and wondrous numbness flowed through me, as if the thorns leaked medicine.

  I winked in and out of focus as she sewed me up, using a thin length of vine as thread.

  “Thank you,” I murmured when she finished. Now for my questions. No time to waste.

  “As for the information I owe you... I know I will never bring Nicolas back to Enchantia,” she said, settling on her haunches. “He is pure evil. Dangerous. Dastardly. Self-serving. Trust him, and you will suffer for it.”