The Evil Queen

by Showalter, Gena

  I would...in a minute. Maybe two. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

  “I have a feeling I will always know when you are near.”

  The grumbled admission should have elicited zero reaction inside me. One day, he might want to cut off my hands. Never forget! But it did elicit a reaction. Something beyond the heat and the tingles. Something lasting.

  I asked, “How can you say such a thing? You don’t even know me.”

  “I want to remedy that. I have tried to remedy that. Our first night together, you sidestepped my questions. If I allow you to stay, will you tell me more about yourself?”

  “I’d rather pay a straggler tax.”

  His warm chuckle made me giddy. He reached out, watching as he circled his finger around and around my thumping pulse as if he’d never been so fascinated.

  “Since you refuse to cook, sew or nanny for me,” he said, “how will you pay me?”

  “I could clean your tent.” À la Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. “Does the big bad prince know how to pick up after himself?”

  “He does not,” he replied, another grin stirring at the corners of his mouth.

  Beautiful prince. “Fair warning. If I clean your tent, I will snoop through your stuff.”

  “I hope you do. I have nothing to hide.”

  Oh, the vast difference of our lives. I had everything to hide. “You won’t let me stay out of the kindness of your heart?”

  “My enemies say I have no heart.”

  “You definitely have a heart. It’s fierce and protective.” I’d seen him with his family. The gentle way he’d helped the king get to the table. The affectionate pat he’d given his sister. His willingness to defend Truly, someone he didn’t even like, and his protection of me, a virtual stranger.

  “You’re right,” he said, meeting my gaze. “You make it race.”

  “I do?” When a dark lock fell over his forehead, I didn’t hesitate to smooth back the silken strands. Problem: each new touch made me crave another—crave more. But I didn’t want to pull away, so, I didn’t. I caressed the shadow beard on his jaw, almost moaning when the stubble tickled my hand. More. I pressed my palm against his chest and gasped. He hadn’t exaggerated. His heart raced as fast as mine. “I do!”

  He liked this. He liked me. I had to win Roth over and change his mind about the sorcerian. No ifs, ands or buts.

  “Roth,” I rasped.

  “Everly,” he rasped back, his voice devastating hypnotic.

  More!

  The wind kicked up, a high-pitched whistle joining by the chorus of agonized wails. I tensed, my desires momentarily forgotten. “What is happening out there?”

  “Focus on me, sweetling. Good, that’s good.” He shifted, tangling our legs together. With fingertips as hot as little flames, he stroked my arm up and down until I relaxed, then cupped my hip. “Tell me something personal. Do you have a significant other at home?”

  “No...but you do.” The reminder made me tense again.

  Reminding me of flint, he said, “My father says I’m engaged. I do not agree.”

  “Why, though? Princess Truly is amazing. You can’t do better.” What are you doing, playing matchmaker? Shut up!

  “I want more than she can give me.”

  Don’t do it. Don’t ask. “What do you want?” I croaked. Argh! I needed better impulse control.

  A moment passed in silence. An endless moment, both too long and not long enough.

  He placed his lips at my ear and breathed, “I want to look at a girl and know she’s mine and mine alone. That I am hers. That we belong to each other, body and soul. I want the world to stop when we’re together. I want to dream about her at night and wake for her every morning. I want to put her first, and know she does the same for me. I want...everything.”

  I will give you everything.

  Oh, no, no, no. I would not go there.

  “What about you, Everly?” His devastatingly hypnotic voice had returned, wreaking havoc on my self-control. “What do you want?”

  More than anything I wanted... “Someone who isn’t afraid of me. Who sees worth in me and accepts me just as I am. Someone who is proud of me, never ashamed.” I knew I was revealing too much, my internal armor being stripped away, piece by piece, but I couldn’t stop. “I want someone who would rather die than hurt me. But he won’t die. He’s too strong.”

  The prince’s breathing quickened. My breathing quickened, until we were inhaling each other’s air. Until the wants I hadn’t listed overshadowed the others. I wanted him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted his strong arms wrapped around me, his body flush against mine. I wanted—

  To not set myself up for a fall. The tender things I felt for this boy were dangerous. Want what you shouldn’t, and you will pay a price.

  “Has someone feared you, sweetling? Hurt you?” he asked.

  “Someone has—”

  I yelped as a fist-size spider-scorpion skittered over the ground, just over Roth’s head. For some reason, the abomination stopped to peer into my soul and hop up and down.

  Grunts of pain joined the soundtrack, sounding just beyond the tent, and I wondered if my little visitor maybe kinda sorta hoped to...warn me about incoming trouble.

  He—it—raced away before I could ask.

  “Get up,” the prince commanded everyone, the authority in his voice unmistakable. He reached for his sword. “Trolls are about to bypass our shields.”

  16

  The worst has happened, every path a disaster.

  Behold! Destruction has become your master.

  As the boys freed the horses, letting the animals gallop away to safety, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and shoved the end of a torch into the fire, lighting the end. We’d find the horses after we’d dealt with our bloodthirsty intruders.

  “Trolls fear fire,” Truly reminded me, nocking three arrows at once. She dipped the tips in flames, and unleashed hell, setting one side of the tarp ablaze.

  Fire...the instrument of the Evil Queen’s demise. My knees knocked.

  A volley of spears flew our way—the ones these boys had planted. Reese yanked Truly against his chest, acting as her shield. Roth did the same for me. Thankfully, no one got hit.

  “Let’s go,” the prince commanded. He snaked an arm around my waist, keeping me upright as we hurried out of the clearing, into the darkest night. The others gave chase.

  Saxon claimed the torch.

  Roth readjusted, twining his fingers with mine. Saxon moved to Truly’s side, using his wings to protect her from swatting tree limbs, ensuring she could run, aim and fire more arrows without pause. Reese and Vikander took up the rear.

  The wind fought us, trolls in pursuit, too close for comfort. The cold singed my throat and lungs, but a surge of adrenaline masked the worst of my discomfort.

  Between panting breaths, I told Roth, “You said trolls enjoy chasing prey. Shouldn’t we stop and fight?”

  “They can see in the dark.” Madness and desperation tinged his tone—he longed to fight those who threatened his loved ones. “Until morning comes, they have a massive advantage.”

  As we ran, I searched for any sign of an invisible doorway, a way to hide, as I’d done with the centaurs. A shimmer, a glint. Something. Anything. Had Allura moved the doorways from my path in a fit of pique?

  Vikander created and tossed metal spears. I glanced back, realizing he’d hit trees rather than trolls, who were roughly a hundred yards away, illuminated by Truly’s trail of fire. The spears were as sharp as daggers from tip to tail. Whenever a troll slammed into one, he got sheared in half.

  My twin released a new volley of fiery arrows. Then another and another. She never missed a target, her accuracy awe-inspiring. Even more shocking, her quiver never emptied, some kind of magic at play.

  I could us
e a dose of magic myself, my muscles burning and shaking. Can’t slow. Can’t—

  My boot slammed into a buttress root. Roth kept me upright, allowing me to regain my footing.

  Whoosh. An ax soared between us, then embedded in a tree. Shock...fear...fury—they surged quickly, fiercely. How close we’d come to injury and possible death. How quickly life could change. If I didn’t stop these trolls, one or all of us would die.

  Truly loosed another round of arrows, heralding new grunts of pain. Flames crackled, charring foliage and tree bark. I hated what we were doing to Allura’s territory. Would she blame us? Punish us?

  A throng of trolls leaped from the trees, blocking our path. The hulking beasts possessed an aura of menace, their eyes neon red. Twining shadows and light fell over prominent foreheads, sharp teeth and jutting jaws. Some beasts had horns, most had tusks, but each and every one had dripping black claws. Weapons ranged from clubs to machetes.

  We were surrounded. They’d herded us here, intending to pick us off. We were...defeated?

  No, no. What had Hartly said to me? If there’s breath, there’s hope.

  I wished I were stronger, but I wasn’t. I could work only with what I had. Bottom line: I would not let these people die just to protect my secrets.

  “Stay back!” I extended an arm, determined to syphon from a troll, and only a troll...yes! Connection. A tidal wave of power, allowing me to craft an illusion of a bigger torch and lunge.

  With a collective hiss, the trolls jumped back.

  The prince, fairy, avian and mer closed around Truly and me, their weapons raised and ready.

  Heartbeat, heartbeat, heartbeat. A war cry pierced the night, trolls converging en masse. My guys swung their swords and spears. Metal clunked against metal, wood—and cut through flesh. Limbs piled around us, blood flowing in rivulets. Grunts and groans created a horrid symphony. The scent of old pennies and emptied bowels permeated everything, and my stomach roiled.

  I tried to link with more trolls—tried to weaken more trolls—but I hadn’t practiced doing both at once, and failed.

  Every few seconds, one of the guys ducked and Truly unleashed an array of arrows. No matter how many trolls those missiles felled, other fiends always swooped in.

  Reese skinned his opponents with his scales. Saxon used the hooks in his wing-joints to rip out organs. Vikander forced any metal worn by his victims to lengthen and sharpen, growing inside the trolls.

  My contribution? Watching. Maybe if I crafted a bigger, badder illusion, the army would retreat.

  “Everly, look out!”

  I turned at Saxon’s shout, my heart in my throat. Too late. A troll had leaped from a tree, his gaze locked on me. Impact!

  Except, it wasn’t the troll who’d landed atop me. It was Reese. He’d gotten to me first. He stumbled backward, toppling to his butt. Blood gushed from two puncture wounds in his cheek—punctures meant for me; the muscle underneath looked like raw hamburger meat.

  Rage-tinged horror engulfed me. Reese...hurt beyond repair...

  Roth disemboweled the beast responsible for the mer’s condition, words he’d once spoken rushing back. Get fanged while you’re with me, and I will kill you straightaway.

  No one in my group would be dying today. We would find a way to help the siren. No other outcome was acceptable.

  Focus. The sooner the trolls were dispatched, the sooner we could save him.

  Remaining crouched, I clasped Reese’s ankle and dragged his heavy frame deeper into the circle. My body would shield his. I pressed my palm on the other side of him, flat on the ground, my fingers pointing toward the trolls. Link. I drew power, warmth and energy.

  Trolls feared fire, so, I would give them fire.

  Around us, an illusion of flames erupted, so real a white-hot breeze swept over us. Would my illusion actually burn someone’s flesh?

  I laughed, suddenly overcome with glee. Burn, burn. I wanted to hear the trolls scream. I wanted to dance in moonlight as their ashes twirled in the air.

  Amid the flames, the army backtracked. One warrior proved slower than the others. My unwitting victim? I continued to draw. The flames spread, closing in on the horde, seeming to immerse the trees. Our foes continued to backtrack, fearful, and I liked it, reveled in it. Actually, all of me liked it; for once, I wasn’t divided.

  These monsters had hurt Reese and wanted to hurt everyone else. I would teach them the error of their ways. Strike against me and mine...and suffer.

  Taking my illusion to the next level, I envisioned bomb blasts erupting, debris spraying. Boom! Boom! Boom! The ground shook.

  Infected by panic, a troll shouted, “Retreat!”

  The army ran as fast as their feet would carry them.

  I held the illusion as long as possible, sweat dripping from different parts of me, my arms quivering. Still I syphoned from my troll. The distance didn’t matter, I realized. I could do what other sorcerers could not and maintain the connection, my link too powerful to break.

  Power on tap, yes, please, and thank you.

  But if I drained him to death, I could keep any magical ability he wielded. Pros and cons, risks and rewards. Resist! What if I absorbed his evil on top of everything else, as Violet might have done with Stephan?

  Another realization struck, sickening me: the day I’d entered Enchantia, I’d still had a link to Hartly. I’d syphoned from her. The distance hadn’t mattered then, either. I could have killed her.

  Tears scorched my eyes. Though I still maintained our connection, I ceased drawing from the troll. In an instant, weakness invaded my limbs. I slumped over, strong arms looping around my waist to save me from a face-plant.

  The scent of cinnamon teased my nose. Roth! When had he knelt beside me?

  He petted my hair, saying, “You wield illusion magic, then?”

  “I do,” I replied, my voice wispy from overexertion. Like I could really deny it. Did he suspect the rest?

  “I know of another who had the same ability. Princess Aubrey Morrow of Airaria.” Such a gentle tone.

  He believed he’d solved the mystery of Everly, didn’t he? That I was Aubrey’s daughter and Truly’s cousin. I did not correct him.

  “I wish I could give you time to rest, sweetling, but we must move on.” His expression hardened as he stood. “Reese must be...helped.”

  The siren lumbered to his knees, head bowed. The puncture wounds looked charred, blood and puss oozing from each. A scarlet rash covered half of his face.

  Vikander and Saxon flanked his sides and stared straight ahead, strain knotting their shoulders.

  Dread chilled every inch of me. What was happening?

  Truly dropped to her knees beside me and peered up at Roth. “Please, don’t do this. Just let him go. We can let him go.”

  Comprehension dawned, and I stared at Reese wide-eyed. This boy wanted only to love and be loved, and Roth planned to end him?

  My chest clenched. “Roth,” I croaked. “Don’t. Give me a minute.” I dug into my backpack, frantically searching for my compact. Argh! Where was it? “There has to be another way.”

  Roth moved in front of the kneeling warrior, a sword in hand. I searched faster, fighting the urge to vomit.

  “Just give me a minute.” Searching, searching. Had I dropped it?

  Reese lifted his head. In his eyes frothed a mix of regret and resolve. “Do it,” he told Roth, speaking up for the first time in our acquaintance.

  I sucked in a breath. His voice reminded me of a lullaby, haunting and sweet. A strange calm settled over the group—over everyone but me.

  “Yes,” Truly said with a nod. “Do it.”

  I frowned. Why the sudden change? “There has to be another way,” I repeated. If Reese died because he’d saved a sorceress, I would never assuage my guilt. There! Finally I withdrew the compact.


  Reese caught my gaze and offered me a sad smile. “Let me die as I lived. By choice. With honor.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. This could not be happening. “There must be an antidote. What about the Apple of Life and Death?”

  “We’re out of time.” Regret and resolve frothed inside Roth’s eyes. He bowed to Reese, saying, “I thank you for your service, my friend.”

  “My honor and my privilege,” Reese said.

  “Listen to me. There must be an antidote.” But what if there wasn’t? What if Reese turned into some kind of homicidal rage-beast and hurt Truly?

  I divided once again, half of me ready to defend the siren until the end, half of me ready to do far worse to protect my twin.

  Roth whispered, “We shall meet again.” Then he swung the sword.

  17

  Fight the good fight with everything you’ve got,

  or even your smallest efforts will be for naught.

  Using a metal shaving and an enchanted cloth he’d saved from the fire, Vikander created a gurney. Roth and Saxon carried Reese through the forest. Sorry, the pieces of Reese.

  I gave a humorless laugh. Guess Roth wouldn’t be sending us back to the palace, after all.

  One hour bled into another as we traveled. I remained in a state of shock, cold from head to toe and shivering uncontrollably. The others were in shock, too. No one said another word.

  When we reached a suitable campsite, the guys set traps along the perimeter. I built a firepit, gathered twigs and used the box of matches to start a fire.

  Settling before the flames, I mused about the day I’d first come to Enchantia, how I’d thought a land with such a charming name couldn’t be so bad. What a fool I’d been.

  I’d entered a bona fide nightmare...and I might be the evilest creature on the block, evidence continuing to stack up against me. The Evil Queen was a legit illusionist—check. She communed with mirrors—check. She hurt people and liked it, relishing her power—checkmate. I’d enjoyed torturing those trolls.

  Evil wears many faces, and if you aren’t careful, it will wear yours.