The Evil Queen

by Showalter, Gena

  With that thought, my heavy eyelids slid shut, and I felt myself drifting off...

  * * *

  I awoke with a start.

  The vines were gone, sunlight filling the cubbyhole. How long had I slept? Must have been a while. My back screamed in protest.

  With a groan, I stretched as best I could within the confines of the cubby—only to still and dart my gaze in every direction. Someone had visited me. My canteen overflowed with water, as if I’d never taken a sip. A new dress lay folded at my feet, a handful of shiny gemstones resting atop the fabric. Best of all, there was a wooden bowl brimming with scrumptious red berries.

  More gifts from Allura, I’d bet. Roth had her all wrong. Temperamental? No way. Try kind and thoughtful.

  I downed the sweet berries in record time, moaning with satisfaction. I stuffed the gemstones into the bottom of my pack, my blistered shoulders weeping at the thought of added weight. No way I’d leave anything behind, though. In one of the bedtime stories Mom had told us, a princess had refused a gift, insulting the giver—a witch in disguise—earning a curse.

  Pang. Mom and her stories. I wished I’d known they were based in fact. I would have listened better, would have asked more questions. Knowledge was as powerful as magic.

  I palmed my compact and checked the glass. Unbroken, no cracks. Grief glinted in my eyes. Blood and mud caked my face. Berry juice had stained my lips scarlet red. Twigs and leaves tangled in my hair.

  Taking a deep breath—pine and roses—I waved my hand over the glass. “Show me Hartly.”

  Waiting, waiting...again, nothing happened.

  Dang it! I still needed to syphon. With no one nearby, I had a grand total of zero options. Except...

  Deep roots. Bonum et malum. I might be linked to the forest—maybe even linked to Allura herself. Did she have power of her own? She must. How else would she aid the forest?

  She knew I was a sorceress, yet she seemed to like helping me. I doubted she would object to me syphoning from her. For all I knew, she’d be offended if I didn’t.

  I was decided, then. I would try to syphon from Allura.

  Desperate and determined, I slid my free hand into dirt as soft as silk, closed my eyes and wiggled my fingers. The movement acted as a catalyst, my magical side reaching deeper and deeper.

  A connection did not click; it strengthened. Oh, yes. Allura brimmed with power, a link already established between us. Noel and Ophelia were right. Bonum et malum had deep roots.

  Suddenly I saw myself as a tree in her forest, planted the day Violet ate of the Tree of New Beginnings. And...and... No way. I thought I sensed... Mom?

  Excitement shook me, but though I searched I found no evidence of her presence.

  Bye-bye excitement. Hello disappointment.

  Ignore. Move on. I syphoned like a boss, lava invading my veins, then spreading through the rest of me. My blood fizzed like champagne, muscles and bones energized.

  When the process completed, I opened up my compact to peer at the glass. Foreverly grinned at me. White hair streaked with black had been braided in the shape of a crown, crystals rising from the strands. Bold makeup, a bloodred gown and a diamond choker with teardrop dangles turned her into a princess with edge.

  “Mmm. Pure power,” she purred with contentment.

  No time to waste. “How is Hartly?”

  “Missing you, but well.”

  “Nicolas hasn’t hurt her?”

  “He has not. Should we trust him? I’m unsure. Should we should trust Noel and Ophelia? Again, I’m unsure. Their intentions are hidden from me. Murky.” She drummed her fingers, the metal claws clinking. “Right now, they are not our primary concern. There is something you need to see in Sevón.”

  “Show me.” Had Roth and Truly already returned?

  Ripples ran through the glass, erasing Foreverly. Princess Farrah appeared. She stood beside an ornate throne made of ice, and I smiled with affection. How I’d missed my old friend...a friend whose spine was rigid.

  Something troubled her. I wanted to fix it, whatever it was, wanted to help her as she’d once helped me, distracting me from my troubles. And I kinda sorta considered her family now. She was Truly’s girlfriend, after all, secret or not.

  Farrah lifted her hand, palm up, and curled her fingers inward. Ice sprouted at the tips, an apple-size ball forming. My jaw dropped. What amazing magic!

  Envy sparked, and there was no denying it. If I could create ice like that, I could return to Airaria, freeze Violet and win her realm.

  And act the part of Evil Queen, doing awful things, betraying Mom?

  Ugh. Way to ruin a good revenge fantasy. Lucky nonsorcerers. They could power a magical ability without syphoning and accidentally killing people.

  I couldn’t see Foreverly, but I heard her voice. “Those nonsorcerers have a self-charging battery, yes, and they do not need to take fuel from an outside source, but they cannot borrow or steal from others, so their loss. Plus, they are hypocrites. They often pay witches to transfer one person’s power to another. That is how most royals acquire a magical ability in the first place. Of course, the ones they take from are willing to give.”

  An idea took shape. What if... No, surely not...but maybe? What if Farrah was Snow White, named for her magical ability?

  Problem. Roth and Farrah would never be romantically involved.

  Unless they were stepsiblings, with no blood tie?

  No, they were definitely blood related. They had the same eyes.

  I inhaled, needing as much oxygen as possible to jump these mental hurdles. In the earliest versions of “Little Snow White,” Prince Charming never kissed her. He inadvertently removed the piece of “poisonous, poisonous” apple lodged in her throat.

  So, their connection didn’t actually require physical attraction, just love.

  The idea deserved more thought. Later. Now I focused on the scene in the mirror. Behind Farrah was a magnificent wall of mirrors. At her sides, intricate wall murals that depicted icy mountains, fire-breathing dragons and a forest engulfed by flames. The only source of light came from a massive chandelier dripping with thousands of teardrop crystals.

  Her father sat upon the throne, looking fatigued and defeated. A crowd of blonde females, anywhere from sixteen to fifty years old, formed a line in front of him. One by one, they stepped forward, held out their arms and curtsied.

  Farrah waved each one away, growing more and more defeated, too. Was this some sort of tradition, like bring your blondes to the palace day? There was no sign of Roth or Truly. For that matter, no sign of Vikander, Saxon or Reese, either.

  “Why do I need to see this?” I asked.

  The scene diminished and Foreverly reappeared. “I have heard whispers that Noel had another vision concerning Roth’s father, yet the details remain hidden from me. I only know that she spurred this proceeding, and it affects us in a major way.”

  Another mystery for my growing pile. Peachy. “So what do I do now? There has to be a way to keep the centaurs at bay. For good!”

  “There is. Kill them.”

  How easily she offered such a brutal suggestion. “Do centaurs wield magic I can syphon?”

  “Every creature in Enchantia has power you can syphon, though not every creature has an ability you can wield.”

  Good to know. But I still wouldn’t kill in cold blood. “There has to be another—less evil—way to deal with my foes.”

  “If so, you need to find it fast,” she intoned. “Remember Noel’s warning. Diamonds are made with pressure and heat, trees are pruned to bear more fruit, and butterflies cannot fly without a fight. For you, the worst is yet to come.”

  13

  In battle, stay calm, be smart.

  Expect losses and a broken heart.

  I left the safety of the cubbyhole. As I walked forward, th
e pink forest vanished, the blue one reappearing. How and why did that keep happening? Had I stepped through a series of doorways?

  How soon could I step through another one? The centaurs caught my scent within minutes.

  I sprinted over uneven ground, leaped over buttress roots, twisting here, turning there. Panting, sweating. Eventually, I lost my tail, but I didn’t slow my pace, unease blending with urgency.

  Rocks cut my feet as if my boots were mist. Thorns sliced my face and arms. Vines purposely tripped me. Trees and bushes often moved into my path. Ants that looked like flecks of lava crawled over my legs, burning holes in my pants. A bird crapped on my shoulder, and a cluster of grapes withered to dust before I’d managed to eat one.

  I should have listened to Roth. This was Allura’s doing, no doubt about it. I’d stolen power from her, and now she would make me pay.

  “I’m sorry,” I said between labored breaths. I trudged through a patch of land glazed with sticky tree sap. “I was desperate.”

  A tree limb smacked my backside, and I yelped.

  “A spanking? Seriously?” As usual, I was torn about my reaction to everything. Part of me regretted what I’d done. Part of me...didn’t. Fully charged, I could use the compact like GPS, a dot showing me which direction to travel to get to Sevón.

  I reached out to Noel, seeking help, but once again she failed to respond.

  Horned squirrels threw nuts at me. Spider-scorpions jumped from their webs to dangle in front of my face, attempting to scare the pee out of me.

  “What do I need to do to make this right? I’ll do anything.”

  Crickets stopped chirping. Birds stopped squawking, and locusts stopped rattling, silence encompassing the forest. Then...

  Why, why, why?

  Suddenly the rapid thump-thump of a stampede resounded. My nerve endings electrified. The centaurs were closing in fast. Too fast. The forest floor shook, the vibrations scurrying up my legs, tripping me.

  I chugged along, racing for cover, wheezing every breath. When I tried to hide, bushes batted me away, leaving me out in the open, vulnerable. Message received. Apology rejected.

  I would have to take a stand and fight. I had my magic and Mom’s. I sucked in a breath. That’s right. Mom had wielded illusion magic, and I’d stolen it. Ignore the pang. Why not try to use it? Once, she’d rendered herself invisible. Why couldn’t I do the same?

  I’d survive or die trying.

  I gave a shimmy, letting the backpack slide off my shoulders. My muscles sang with relief. After dumping the bag’s contents at my feet, I dropped to my knees and filled my pockets with Allura’s gemstones. Then I returned everything else to the pack and refit the straps to my shoulders.

  My heart a war drum in my chest, I patted the daggers sheathed at my waist. Still in place. Excellent. I positioned myself in front of a tree. Hands are conduits. I just needed to syphon. Who had better power than Allura?

  Furious with the forest nymph, I decided, Why not? Still linked, I had only to point my fingers at the dirt to draw from her. Consequences be damned!

  Power surged. I waved a hand over my body...

  Expunged. Deleted. Erased, right before my eyes. Yes! Adrenaline pumped with new life as I freed two of the stones from confinement. Standing as still as a statue proved difficult, fight and flight going head to head, but I managed it.

  The ground shook harder, leaves clapping. In the distance, limbs parted. A horde of centaurs galloped into the small clearing, carrying the aroma of hay, sweat and old pennies—blood. They’d killed something or someone. Recently.

  I counted my opponents. Five...ten...fifteen. The moisture in my mouth dried. All males, all shirtless, all bulging with muscles and covered in scars.

  They had waist-length hair plaited at their temples, the other strands free-falling over broad shoulders. Those wavy locks ranged in color, everything from the palest ivory to the darkest jet. Same with their skin tones. A good portion of the warriors were speckled, and not just with mud and blood.

  They carted an arsenal. Spears, swords. Bows, daggers. The leader carried a scythe. At least, I assumed he was the leader, since he led the charge.

  As they passed me, wind blustered, kicking up dirt. Don’t cough. Be silent.

  The second they galloped out of range, I would run in the opposite direction. Hold. Hold. Almost time...

  The leader shouted, “Halt!” The others immediately obeyed.

  No, no, no. Move on. There’s nothing to see here.

  “I smell apple blossoms,” he said, his deep voice crackling with impatience. “She’s nearby.”

  I smelled like apple blossoms?

  The horde turned, ready to backtrack. Okay, split-second decision time. Did I stay put and hope they couldn’t pinpoint my exact location, or flee, leaving trackable footprints?

  Here, now, I didn’t want to be Snow White. I wanted to be the Evil Queen. I wanted my foes to bow before me, surrendering to my superior strength.

  A goal for another day. Today, I’d have to run. Again.

  Decision made, then.

  Hoping to earn a head start, I tossed the stones as far as possible. The ensuing clunk-clunk drew their attention, and they bolted in that direction, only to stop and turn, facing me once again. The leader sniffed the air.

  I reached out with a ghostly hand...a mystical hand...linking with a centaur. Why not syphon from my prey—weaken my prey?

  My prey? I thought I was theirs.

  As I drew power from him, I bolted. Limbs sliced me. With every step, my heart crashed against my ribs anew, as if trying to revive itself, and the gemstones clinked inside my pockets, announcing my location.

  Keep going. Faster. I dashed up a hill, muscles burning. All of me struggled. I chucked one stone after the other, always in a different direction. My stomach bottomed out when the link with the centaur severed abruptly. Had he just—

  Nope, not going there. Guilt was not my friend.

  The illusion magic dissipated, a cold sensation flowing over me. I wouldn’t panic. I wouldn’t!

  “There!” the leader shouted. I’d call him CL.

  Pounding hooves, faster and faster. Sweat dripped into my eyes. Panting breaths singed my throat. My lungs constricted, and my limbs quaked with more force.

  I rounded a tree trunk and threw another rock, directing my aim at the centaurs this time. Rinse, repeat. Round a tree, throw a rock, until only two stones remained. I hopped over a slithering root, threw—a meteorite, I realized at the last second, regret singeing me. I didn’t want to part with Mom’s keepsake.

  The missile nailed a redheaded beast in the chest, his bellow of pain echoing through the forest. His legs gave out. He toppled and writhed, looking agonized.

  Centaurs were sensitive to the meteorites?

  Pumping my arms, I picked up speed. Passing a large birch, I chanced a glance over my shoulder. No! Two pursuers were almost upon me.

  A vine shot out, snaring my ankles and yanking. Falling...

  I never hit the ground. Fingers tangled in my hair and jerked me into the air. My scalp stung, the least of my worries. My captor flung me over his back, pinning me in place with a too-rough grip.

  Cheers resounded, the others celebrating. The prize had been bagged and tagged.

  I could have let fear choke me; already a barbed lump grew in my throat. But fear was just another face of evil, snuffing out hope.

  I didn’t think, just acted, pressing the remaining meteorite into my captor’s flank.

  He roared and reared up, tossing me to the ground. Impact proved jarring, nearly unbearable, but I didn’t care. I rolled to my feet and darted left.

  A wall of centaurs blocked me.

  I darted right and drew up short. Blocked again. The creatures encircled me, radiating malice, and slowly inched forward.

 
“This isn’t going to end well for you,” I said, doing my best to sound confident. I held out the meteorite, all, Behold your doom.

  CL stepped to the forefront, unfazed. He had black hair and fur, golden brown skin weathered by the sun, and eyes the color of whiskey. Handsome in a homicidal maniac kind of way.

  He grinned, all satisfaction and glee. “Queen Violet says we are to kill you quick. We will obey...eventually. New toys are fun to break.”

  Though I was a mess inside and longed to shrink back, I pasted on a grin of my own. “You don’t have to give me the hard sell. I know breaking you is going to be fun.”

  He scowled. Others snickered.

  If he lunged at me, I would play dirty, going for the vulnerable groin. Or a flank. Perhaps an eye. Until then...

  I held out my arms and spread my fingers, luxuriating in the newest rush of tingling heat, greedy for more. I had no idea which one I was drawing from, and I didn’t care. More. More!

  CL paled and edged back, muttering, “Sorceress.” Maybe I’d linked with him. Terror darkened his eyes, and I luxuriated in that, too.

  “Someone comes,” one of his soldiers shouted.

  Another foe? An ally?

  Roth, Vikander, Saxon and Reese exploded into the clearing, as lethal as bullets, and I could have danced. I’d never been so happy to see someone I knew.

  How had they found me?

  Easy. Noel.

  CL faced the incoming threat, forgetting all about little ole me. I struck, stabbing him in the human part of his gut. Not just stabbing—slashing. He cursed as blood and bile spewed out.

  When he reared, intending to kick my face, I ducked, but not in time. Just before impact, Roth crashed into me, knocking me down and taking the blow between his shoulders. He grunted as we rolled in the dirt.

  The moment we stilled, he surged to his feet, dragging me to mine. Our gazes met for a suspended moment.

  “Stay back,” he commanded. “A great oracle says you are to live, no matter the cost.”

  “But—”

  He cut me off, charging into the fray. Man against beast.