Once Upon A Curse: 17 Dark Faerie Tales

by Yasmine Galenorn

  “I gave you a knife, a worthy blade, but you became a girl who felt pity for that odious boy who fancied himself a hunter. You might have saved him, pulled him from the water and then where would we be?” Her mouth twisted into a sneer. “You are weak, and I cannot have that.”

  I said, “I am not weak. I survived.”

  “Because of me. I saved you.”

  “And what of it?” I asked. “If we are the same, aren’t you saving yourself?”

  “You know nothing of the way the world works,” she said. “The way it slices things and puts them back together in different ways. Choose strength and I’ll let you live and teach you to become a hunter.”

  “If I make another choice?”

  She smiled, a goofy thing that made me shiver. “Why would you do such a thing? If I wanted you to die, I could have left you in the icy water with the boy.”

  The boy. I had forgotten about him.

  She’s afraid of the boy, whispered the voice in my mind. She is afraid you might make a different choice than she did.

  She rushed toward me then, holding the thick, heavy stick in her hands like an axe, and she came at me. Again, my hand found the blade, but instead of striking her, I let it fall and turned and ran. Her screams followed me into the tide that swept me back into icy waters…

  …where the boy’s dead white face floated in the darkness.

  With all the fight and fury of the girl who never gave up, I grabbed him, kicked my way to the surface and dragged his leaden body onto the gravel-strewn beach where he gagged and vomited.

  There was no sign of the old woman. I found the gnarled length of polished driftwood she’d used for a walking stick not far from the entrance to the cave where a set of footsteps in the sand abruptly stopped. I traced the footsteps back inside the cave until I came to where the knife had fallen, but it was not to be found. It was as if it had vanished with the old woman.

  When I came out, the boy’s eyes were open. He stared about him in wonderment. “I was going to kill you,” he said.

  “I know.”

  A hank of wet dark hair fell across his forehead. Blood trickled from his nose. “You saved me.”

  “I know.”

  “What do we do now?”

  I turned away from the cave entrance and faced the length of the beach and the clusters of houses piled along the shore with their shining windows.

  “We go home,” I said, and held out my hand.

  ***

  The Final Straw - Jennifer Blackstream

  “Another test?”

  The soft, seductive tone whispered over Milly’s skin, wrapped around her senses in a way that sent shivers spiraling over her nerves in tingling waves. She spun around, banging her elbow against the cold stone of the windowsill and hissing as pain shot down her bones.

  “How do you do that? I was really watching for you this time.”

  Her voice was breathier than she’d have liked, and she crossed her arms, trying to summon a glare for the man who’d snuck into her prison—again. Maddox smiled at her, and his grey eyes twinkled with amusement. His long black hair slid over the smooth, pale muscles of his shoulders as he tilted his head at her.

  “I told you last night, I am a sylph. Until I take physical form, you can no more see me coming than you could watch the approach of any other gust of wind.”

  He approached her with light footsteps as silent as a gentle breeze, the faint rustle of his soft cotton shirt and pants barley audible over her own breathing. He took a lock of her hair between his fingers, smiled softly at the golden curl as he looked from it to the piles and piles of straw that filled the cavernous tower room around them.

  “How can the king be so immune to your beauty, your charm, that he tests you still?” He let go of the curl, cupped her jaw with one hand.

  Milly’s throat went dry and it took her two tries to find her voice. “How could the prince of Sanguennay threaten to disfigure a face as handsome as yours?”

  Maddox laughed, a raspy chuckle. “I dare say he was in a poor position to appreciate my appearance. I imagine few men would be, considering he’d just found me in his private chambers with his wife.” He shrugged one shoulder. “My fault entirely. I should have known better than to fly about after imbibing that much wine.”

  His deep chuckle vibrated things low in Milly’s body and she bit her lip to keep from leaning further into his touch. Maddox lowered his hand and part of her mourned the loss of his warmth.

  “It was an innocent mistake and he should have guessed that from the fact you were passed out lying on top of the dresser,” she pointed out. “Besides, you tried to make it up to him. You gave him half of the siren’s treasure when you found it, even though you almost lost your leg to that sea monster trying to get to it.”

  Maddox quirked an eyebrow. “Do you remember every story I’ve told you with such detail?”

  “Yes,” she answered immediately. “I have no adventures of my own to remember. I must live vicariously through yours.” Her chest tightened and she looked at the locked door that kept her a prisoner in the tower, surrounded by heaps of straw. “Ironic, isn’t it? After my mother died, my father barely let me travel twenty feet from our mill for fear that something horrible would happen to me. And yet it was his outrageous boasting that’s put my life on the line. Not once, but three times.”

  “Milly.”

  Maddox’s voice caressed her senses like a physical touch, a soft blanket drawn over her skin. She couldn’t help but look at him, look into his beautiful silver eyes.

  “Your father made a foolish mistake,” he said gently. “One poor choice that brought on consequences he will have to live with for the rest of his life.”

  There was something in his voice that said he wasn’t just talking about Milly’s father anymore. As one, they both turned to look at the spinning wheel in the center of the room, its polished wood perfectly framed by the monstrous piles of yellow straw.

  “Spinning straw into gold,” Milly murmured.

  A muscle in Maddox’s jaw tightened, but he dragged his lips into a smile. “Fate then, that my mistake and your father’s should align so nicely.”

  Wood creaked as Maddox lowered his large frame onto the stool in front of the spinning wheel. The spark had left his eyes, and the shining silver was now the heavy grey of a rain-swollen sky.

  “He will demand a price.” His voice held the edge of a growl, the faint stirrings of anger.

  Milly’s stomach bottomed out and she fisted her hands at her sides. “I know.”

  Maddox put his right hand on the spinning wheel, scooped up a small bundle of straw with his left. He met her eyes then and there was a ferocity there that left her breathless. “If it were within my power to do this for you, I would. I would not ask for anything in return.” The lines around his eyes deepened, pain shining in his gaze now. “It is my power that let me hear your cries on the wind. But spinning straw into gold…that is him.”

  A lump rose in her throat, barring any words from escaping. She nodded.

  He opened his mouth as if he would say more, but suddenly his left hand closed around the straw, crushing it in his grip. Black pupils swallowed his pale grey irises, until there was nothing but darkness staring back at her. A second later, red irises appeared, began to glow softly. Milly held her breath, her veins full of icewater as she watched the demon rise, pushing Maddox away from her, deep into his own subconscious.

  “So, you are in need of my help again, are you?”

  The demon’s voice came from Maddox’s vocal cords, but it sounded nothing like him. There was no hint of Maddox’s strange cadence, that whispering quality that reminded Milly of the wind through the trees. There was no trace of his smile in the macabre spreading of lips that bared white teeth at her now.

  She faced the intruder and stiffened her spine. “Once again, and then no more.”

  “Once more you have to prove yourself, and then the king will make you his queen.” Th
e demon looked her up and down, a leering scrutiny that made her skin crawl. “And what do you offer me in payment this time? Another necklace? Another ring? You had such pretty little trinkets…”

  “You will have your choice of treasure once I am queen.” Her voice wavered despite her determination, her resolve weakened by the sight of Maddox’s lips cradling the demon’s taunting words. The tiny voice that had been screaming in her ear these past two nights chose that moment to screech again. You cannot marry the king! Before you is the man you love!

  The demon narrowed his eyes and Milly’s stomach rolled as he looked her up and down again. Unlike Maddox’s appreciative gaze, the demon’s inspection left her skin feeling cold and clammy, unclean as if she’d just been rolled in filth. She groped behind her for the ends of her thin cloak, drew the faded green material more tightly around her.

  “No,” the demon said slowly. “No, I do not think that will do at all. What guarantee do I have that you will be queen?”

  “I will be queen,” she said firmly. “The king has promised. All that is left between me and the throne is this room of straw.”

  “And the bag of flesh I wear that draws your traitorous eye so,” the demon sneered.

  Milly looked away, realized her mistake, and looked back. The demon was staring straight into her eyes now, and its smile had grown even more frightening.

  “So typical of a woman. You are all such fickle, fickle creatures.” His right hand lashed quickly against the spinning wheel, sending it into a blur of motion. “I will spin for you. But the price will be no less than your first born child.”

  “No!” The word exploded from Milly’s lips before she could think, but it didn’t matter. There could be no consideration of such a demand.

  “Very well. Then I will inform your guards. No sense forcing them to stand in the hall all night when you’ve made your decision.” He let the straw in his hand drift to the floor like feathers plucked from a struggling bird. “Better for me anyway. This evening was so much more promising when I was watching through Maddox’s eyes as he mounted a supple young nymph. Returning to her arms will be so much more fun than sitting here all night doing your work.”

  Images sprang to life in Milly’s brain. Maddox entwined with an otherworldly creature far more beautiful than she could ever be. Bitterness coated her throat, rose up to splash against her tongue. She bit her lip until it bled, shoved the images away.

  “I want to speak with Maddox.” She’d meant it to be a command, but it came out more of a plea.

  The demon snorted. “No. I rather like my bargaining position as it is. You will agree to my terms, or I will call the guards.”

  “That’s blackmail!”

  The demon closed the distance between them so quickly and silently he may as well have been a shadow cast by a raised lantern. The large hand that had toyed with her hair so gently a moment ago now wrapped in her curls up to the base of her neck, twisted her head painfully to the side so he could lean in and press his lips to her ear.

  “Make your choice, little one,” he whispered, his breath hot on her skin, carrying a hint of sulfur. “The time has come to work or play, and the choice is yours. Will I do your work for you? Or will I return with Maddox to play?”

  Milly pressed her lips together, biting back the protest she knew would do her no good. “Fine.”

  The demon didn’t give her a chance to reconsider. He half flew to the stool, set the wheel spinning furiously with one hand, using the other to feed the straw into the madly whirling wood. Milly stared at him, her hatred for the demon burning inside her like a pile of white-hot coals.

  I will never have a child, she promised herself. I don’t want to bear the king’s children anyway. It was easier said than done, but Milly refused to think about that. Instead, she watched the demon, waited for the telltale signs that it had lost itself in its work, had relinquished consciousness to Maddox.

  There. Tension sprang back into his muscles, his head jerked up, gaze flicking around the room with panicked speed before finally landing on Milly. She held her breath, fighting to keep her composure long enough to walk over to the spinning wheel and sit on the floor in front of it before her weak knees gave out.

  “What did he ask of you this time?”

  Maddox’s voice was calm, but the question hurt as badly as if they’d been written on parchment, tied to stones, and hurled at her unprotected body. Milly wanted to look away, hide the shame she knew must be etched across her face, but she stopped herself. If this was to be her last night with Maddox, she would not waste it talking about the wretched choice she’d made to save her own life. With every ounce of self control left to her, she waved her hand in the air, attempting to sweep away his concern.

  “Let’s not talk about him.” She looked down at her cloak, wrapped it more tightly around herself as if it could protect her from the cold chilling her from the inside out. “Tell me more about your adventures.”

  Maddox’s shoulders twitched as if he’d tried to face her more fully, but the tension in his body betrayed the demon’s lingering control. It wasn’t present enough to keep him from speaking, but it was still there in his body, manipulating the wheel and feeding it straw. Manacles on the inside.

  “Adventures.” Maddox spat the word as if it tasted foul. “It’s too grand a name for them. Foolish escapades, that’s all they were. Perhaps if I’d been less infatuated with adrenaline-induced exploits, I would be sharing my body with a wife instead of a demon.”

  Without permission, Milly’s mind painted a tempting picture of her as the wife Maddox spoke of sharing his body with. She cleared her throat a little too loudly, as if the sound could somehow also clear the image from her optimistic imagination. “You didn’t tell me that story.” She hesitated, not wanting to bring him more pain, but somehow needing to know. “How you came to be—”

  “Possessed.” He flung the word from his lips like a stone hurled into a still pond, sending ripples of agitation through the room. His teeth clenched and he stared at his hands flying over the wheel. “It was my own ignorance, my own arrogance. The rumors were everywhere about the prince of Nysa. Rumors that he’d died, that his body was now moved about by a demon and not the queen’s son. They said Aphrodite herself had plucked an incubus from the astral plane and put it into the prince’s body, had done it to protect the royal family from the war that would come if it was learned that their only heir was dead.”

  Milly leaned forward, uncaring of the cold stone floor beneath her palm. “I heard no such rumors.”

  “You wouldn’t. You are human, and such matters are rarely spoken of outside the circles of the otherworld.” He paused. “Except Dacia. But then again, I suppose it is much harder to ignore otherworldly beings when the royal family is massacred in a coup and then continues to rule afterwards.”

  Vampires. Milly shuddered. Yes, everyone knew about the vampires that ruled Dacia. If it weren’t for the machinations of Prince Kirill, the cold man with eyes like a winter sky, trade would likely have stopped entirely. Milly didn’t know how the vampire had kept trade going after his family’s terrifying transformation, let alone urged it to such thriving heights. And she didn’t want to know.

  “I wanted to find out if it was true,” Maddox continued. “And like a child, I didn’t think beyond the satisfaction of my curiosity. I learned how to separate my mind from my body so I could travel to the astral plane myself.” His face darkened and the spinning wheel spun faster, golden thread glittering as it flew through the air to land in a growing pile next to him. “No one told me about the dangers of leaving my body unattended. And I didn’t bother to ask.”

  Milly dug her fingernails into her palms. “The demon entered your body when you were on the astral plane.”

  Maddox nodded, a stiff bob of his head. “I found out later that I was lucky. A greater demon would have been able to keep me from returning to my body at all, could have claimed my flesh for himself and left me an incorpor
eal spirit forever.” He stared at his hands, at the wheel spinning faster and faster, at the golden thread spiraling through the air. “At least this demon is merely my match. I cannot force him out, but neither can he get rid of me.”

  Milly wrung her cloak in her hands. “Isn’t there any way to exorcise it?”

  “Not without knowing his name.” Maddox’s shoulders fell, as much as they could with the demon still controlling him, still using him to work the wheel. “I’m not an exorcist. I don’t have the power or the expertise to cast him out, and so far, I have not found anyone who can. There are rumors of men and women powerful enough to do it, but every time I try to find them, to get word to one of them, the demon takes over and…” He set his jaw and tilted his face away from her.

  Suddenly Milly felt like a wretch for complaining about her boring life, for complaining that her father had refused her control over her own destiny. At least she had control of her body, her mind. She wasn’t demon-ridden.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Maddox looked at her then, and there was a smile on his face, even if it didn’t reach his beautiful grey eyes. “Don’t be sorry. At least now I can take some small comfort that my burden was of use. Without the demon, I would have heard your plea on the wind, but been unable to do anything to help you.” He looked at the golden thread. “Perhaps I can find some solace in knowing that I helped put a good queen on the throne of this cursed kingdom.”

  Something sharp stabbed at Milly’s belly, dread honed to a fine point. I don’t want to be queen. I want to go with you. The emotion was so strong that her lips parted, her vocal cords vibrating with the intention to speak. She made a choking sound as she swallowed them back, humiliation burning her cheeks at the thought of how Maddox would react to such a declaration of love. How many human women had thrown themselves at him? Had seen his beauty, heard that voice like a whisper in a dark bedroom, and wanted to listen with her head pressed against his lean, muscled chest?

  “As much as this land can know a queen,” she said weakly. “There hasn’t been a true king in Midgard for centuries.”