by Bonnie Dee
Aurora seemed impatient, a little on edge yet excited, and he remembered that she believed she’d never been outside this castle. It was going to be an interesting day.
“All right, let’s go,” he said when she came back from foraging in her bedroom with a slightly dusty and moth-eaten cloak and a small bag. She drew in her breath and set off with purposeful strides.
Because she seemed to need it, he took her hand when they emerged into the courtyard, leading her along the overgrown, broken path, through the trailing bushes.
Although the sun was coming up, it seemed cold. Aurora clearly felt it too because she shivered and her hand twitched convulsively in his, gripping his fingers.
“It’s not far to the village, is it?” she asked. “Don’t you have a horse?”
“No,” he said, “and no.” He frowned at the thorns blocking their path. He was sure they hadn’t been there when he arrived here yesterday. They’d clearly fallen since then. He pushed the branches back, holding them for Aurora to pass under his arm.
As she did so, more sprang across in front of her. She halted, reaching out before he could stop her to push them aside.
“Take care,” he warned, just as she let out a squeal of pain. “They’re sharp.”
Her eyes turned up to his were wild. “That’s how the spindle felt. Joel, don’t let me sleep again!”
“You won’t sleep,” he soothed, examining the prickle of blood on her finger. “They’re just brambles. Let me cut them back.”
Retrieving his Swiss army knife from his pocket, he hacked through the branch and stepped forward, just as another fell across the path. He frowned, cutting through it too, but ahead of them, he saw more and more swishing across what was left of the path, like a falling house of cards.
“What the…?” The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, making his skin crawl with some cold, half-understood warning. He remembered his feeling that the vegetation had parted for him as he’d made his way up to the castle. As if he’d been enticed in. Now he felt they wouldn’t be allowed to leave. Claustrophobia surged up, spurring him forward, hacking at the ever-thickening jagged branches with one hand while dragging Aurora after him with the other.
“Pull up your hood,” he barked. “Stay close.”
There was no need of the latter advice. She could hardly have gotten any closer to him, slipping beneath branches in perfect time with him. She wrapped the cloak around her arm and pushed other branches off both of them as they made their slow, desperate way forward.
“It’s magic,” she whispered. “Bad magic. I’m not meant to leave here…”
“Oh, you’re leaving,” Joel said grimly. “We both are.”
Joel never gave up on anything, and he certainly wasn’t going to be defeated by a few briars. If there was something unnatural in their movement, as if deliberately twisting across the path, blown by an unseen and unfelt wind, he shoved that to one side and concentrated on getting the hell out.
Discovering the rusting iron gates was a relief. “Nearly there,” he said encouragingly to the girl whose eyes were big and frightened but remained focused on the task. Her scratched and bloodied hands shook too, but they were still useful in saving both of them from the worst of the thorns and, after her outburst about evil magic, she never uttered a word.
The gates were no barrier. One hung crazily off one hinge; the other was held ajar by a thick tangle of clinging branches. Joel stepped forward with a relief he was loath to admit, just as the open gate slammed toward him. With a muffled cry, Aurora clutched him, trying to draw him back. The branches that had held the gate lashed against them like the crack of several whips, just as he caught the gate in both hands. The force of it hurt. The broken half of the gate swung madly, as if trying to close too.
Seizing Aurora even closer to him in one protective arm, Joel strode around the now immovable gate that had so nearly crashed into his face. Aurora stared at the twitching, broken construction as they sidled past it, as if expecting it to attack them. Cold sweat broke out on his neck and forehead. He knew how she felt. This was weird. Too fucking weird to be real.
But it seemed the gate was too damaged to harm them. Christ, did he really think that? And there were only a few yards of overgrown vegetation to go now they’d reached outside the courtyard. It too whipped across the path he’d trodden so freely yesterday, but at least it thinned now with every step until, with a feeling of stepping from cold darkness into bright sunlight, they walked free.
Joel loosened his arm on the girl’s shoulder, anxiously scanning her for signs of hurt. Slowly, mutely, she turned her face up to his, as if examining him in the same way. Only one long scratch down her left cheek marred her creamy skin, but her hood was torn. In fact, all of her once-fine cloak was now looking the worse for wear. She reached up one trembling, bloody hand to touch his jaw.
“You’re hurt,” she whispered. “You’re bleeding.”
His face did sting. He smiled lopsidedly. “As if I’ve been mauled by a cat?” He caught her fluttering hand and held it firmly in his. Both he and Aurora were covered in scratches, some of them deep and bleeding. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t that bad on the way in.”
She nodded. “You were meant to come in. But now she knows I’m awake and neither of us is meant to leave.”
He frowned. “Who knows you’re awake?”
“Valborga, the wicked woman who must have cursed me when I was a baby.”
Joel’s nerves were on edge. “Thousands of years ago? I doubt she’s still alive to give a damn whether or not you’re awake!”
“Why not? I am. Besides, I think fairy folk are immortal.”
“Of course they are,” Joel soothed. Oh yes, definitely time for the doctor. Although perhaps he should be seeing one too. He glanced back at the dense, still vegetation covering everything apart from the castle’s turrets. Even the broken gate had stopped swinging. “Come on. Let’s get down to the village.”
High above them the black slash of a raven’s wings cut across the pale blue sky, its presence commanding the air space and driving away all other birds. The raven swooped low, flying silently behind the hiking couple as they made their way through the rugged terrain and down the mountainside. The bird’s shadow fell across theirs, but neither Joel nor Aurora was aware they were being followed.
Chapter Five
By the time they found the doctor’s surgery—part of his house, it turned out—Aurora had stopped clutching Joel’s arm every time she saw a car. Joel could only be grateful for the quiet of the village. He hated to imagine her reaction to the noise and chaos of the city traffic. But if he’d hoped coming out of isolation would have sparked her normal memories, he was doomed to disappointment.
The villagers gaped at her as she passed in her torn cloak, rumpled hair and silken ball gown, nodding regally to them as she passed. In truth, she gaped at them too, although with a secrecy that she seemed to imagine was polite.
“Goodness, they’re dressed just like you,” she said once. “Or almost…”
She had a point. Expensive hiking gear just didn’t look any better than the cheap stuff.
“Good gracious, her legs! All their legs!” she gasped as some girls smiled at her. They wore either tight leggings or short skirts. But at least they smiled. Most people smiled at her, after they got over their astonishment at her appearance. She had that effect.
Even the doctor’s receptionist smiled, and the waiting patients. When Joel explained the problem and mentioned possible head injury, the receptionist got straight on the phone, and two minutes later they were both ushered into the doctor’s surgery.
Joel did wonder if he should be there. After all, he was no relation to Aurora, but it was important that the doctor understand all the circumstances. And besides, Aurora removed all possibility of his leaving by clutching his hand so tightly he doubted he could have escaped if he’d wanted to.
The doctor, a bespectacled, middle-aged man with a slightly bore
d expression, blinked as Aurora took off her cloak, and gave a slightly bemused smile. “So, you’ve had a bump on your head?” he said, holding one of the two patients’ chairs for her to sit.
“Oh, no,” she said.
“Yes, we think so,” Joel said at the same time.
“I see. What seems to be the trouble?”
Since the doctor asked Aurora directly, Joel held his tongue.
“I pricked my finger,” Aurora said, revealing the pinprick she’d shown him last night. It was almost healed. Unlike the scratches which covered her hand.
“More than your finger,” said the doctor. “You need to wash those and put some antiseptic ointment on them. What happened?”
“We were walking in the hills. Up by the old castle,” Joel said hastily.
The doctor frowned. “What old castle?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Aurora said sadly. “There were thorns.”
“I found her unconscious,” Joel interjected. “She seemed—still seems—a bit confused. I’m worried that she has some head injury.”
Aurora gave him a glare that made him feel unaccountably guilty, as if he were a traitor. But the doctor immediately sprang into action, examining her head with thorough care while asking her questions about her name and age and where she lived. At her answers, he cast a more understanding glance at Joel.
He held his finger in front of her face and got her to follow it with her eyes. He shone lights into her eyes, took a blood-pressure reading, a process that Aurora watched with wide-eyed interest, and finally pronounced, “I can find nothing whatsoever wrong with her. She’s one of the healthiest people I’ve ever examined. Perfect blood-pressure, no trace of external or internal injury. I can tell you I’ve never seen her before, so I doubt she lives in the village. I would advise you to go to the city, contact the police there, and have her more thoroughly checked at the hospital. If nothing else, they will direct you toward more specialist care.”
Joel stood, taking Aurora’s hand to draw her with him. “Thank you, doctor.” He didn’t say it wasn’t his responsibility. He couldn’t desert her. “We’ll do that.”
The doctor cast a doubtful glance at Aurora, who inclined her head with incomparable grace. “Good-bye, doctor,” she said and smiled. At once, the doctor’s face broke into a smile of its own.
“Good-bye, my dear,” he said kindly. “Good luck.” He opened the surgery door. “Let me know the outcome,” he added. “If you can.”
On the street, Joel put his hand around Aurora’s waist as he walked beside her. For a man to touch a young woman and particularly a royal princess in such a familiar way was unthinkable in her world. But she was far from the court and the life she’d known there. Even though this country was still called Schlaushagen, it was many lifetimes away from the place she’d known. Besides, even in her own time, Aurora had known little of life outside the castle.
There was so much noise and color and confusion, so many sights to take in and try to comprehend: the vehicles on the street that moved without horses to draw them, the music that occasionally blared from a storefront with no orchestra in sight, the bizarre clothing and hairstyles the people wore, and the strange gadgets they talked into as they passed by on the sidewalk. Few of them looked at or acknowledged one another, and yet they all stared at her as if she was the odd one. Aurora shrank inside her ball gown, wanting to shrivel up and disappear.
“My clothes are not right,” she muttered to Joel.
“We’ll stop by a store and get you some,” he answered. “Then we’ll go back to my hotel room and figure out what to do next.”
She was glad of his warm, strong hand at her back, guiding her past these many strangers and through this outlandish new world.
“Here. This will do.” Joel let go of her to open the door of a shop.
Aurora walked inside and was assaulted by loud, jangling music that tore at her ears and a thudding drumbeat that vibrated through her very spine. She clenched her hands at her sides, resisting the urge to cover her ears and straightened her back, tipping up her chin.
The sales girl had shockingly short, dark hair with unlikely blond strands through it, and a silver hoop stuck right through her nostril. She swept a glance over Aurora’s dress before meeting her eyes. “Can I help you?” There was a snigger in her tone and a quiver in her red-painted lips.
Aurora quelled her with a stare that made the girl drop her gaze. “Yes, you may. I shall require new clothing, as you can see. Are you the seamstress?”
“Um…” The young woman darted a look at Joel as if begging for help.
“The clothes here are off the rack,” he explained quietly to Aurora. “Women don’t use seamstresses these days. Why don’t you choose a few tops and jeans you think might fit and try them on in the dressing room?”
Humiliated to be unable to do something as simple as choose a wardrobe without guidance, Aurora allowed Joel and the salesgirl to make suggestions. The girl seemed to have gotten rid of her bad attitude. She enthusiastically pulled tops off of hangers and blue trousers such as she and Joel both wore from shelves.
“You’ll look hot in these. Trust me.” She handed a pile of clothing to Aurora. “The dressing room’s back there.”
Aurora stared at the brightly colored pile in her arms, then at the young woman. “Aren’t you going to dress me?”
“These clothes are pretty easy. I think you can do it.” Joel took her arm and led her toward the back of the store.
With dismay, Aurora faced a stall with a curtain to use as a door. “I’m to change in there? But how will I get out of this dress?” She turned to show Joel the problem. There were buttons all the way down the back of the gown. It was nearly impossible to put on without a maid.
“I’ll do it. Come on.” Joel pulled back the curtain and hustled her inside. The booth was small and he stood right behind her, his hands working the buttons from their hoops.
Aurora caught her breath, shocked at his temerity. But there was really no other choice and she had opened the door to such familiarity by kissing him last night. She thought of the how that had felt, how it had made her blood burn and her body tense all the way down to her toes. And she thought of how he’d held her hand to the bulge in his trousers, letting her feel the results their kissing had had on him.
Now, as his fingers busily moved down her back, loosening the binding bodice, heat built inside her once more. Her nipples felt tender as they pressed against the stiff fabric and flutters of excitement darted through her like the butterflies that had once flitted in her garden. She held perfectly still until he slipped the sleeves down her shoulders, and then he stepped back, clearing his throat.
“I guess you can get it from here.”
Aurora glanced over her shoulder to watch him draw back the curtain on its rings and step outside the stall. For a moment his gaze met hers and his blue eyes smoldered like a pair of slow-burning coals.
She exhaled as he closed the curtain and then turned her attention to removing the rest of her undergarments. There was no place to put her dress or petticoats, so they fell to the floor in a drift. She stepped out of the circle of silk and picked up the first tiny little top. It had no sleeves, just narrow cord-like things to hold up a tube of fabric. Aurora would’ve thought it was a chemise of some kind, but she’d seen women on the street wearing such tops with nothing to cover them.
She regarded her corset and looked at the top again. Clearly it would not do to put the scrap of fabric on over her corset. She would have to undress completely. Setting the top aside, she unfastened the hooks and eyes on the front of her corset and took it off. Her torso was completely naked, and she was intimately aware of Joel standing just on the other side of the curtain. She felt a terrible compulsion to pull the drape open and allow him to see her completely naked.
Aurora quickly put on the pale blue top and stared down at her front. There were little cups built in to support her breasts, but their rounded shape was clea
rly revealed and the press of her nipples was obvious. She couldn’t imagine going out of the dressing room in this shirt.
The salesgirl had given her a stack of underwear, and Aurora chose a pair decorated with bright red cherries. They slid up her legs and barely covered her sex and her rear. She picked up a pair of the blue trousers called “jeans” and frowned at them. Other than her drawers, she’d never worn a garment that separated her legs. But most of the people she’d seen today, both women and men, seemed to be wearing the garment.
She placed her foot into one leg, hopping on the other foot until she’d slid it all the way through. Then she transferred her weight and balanced as she pulled the other leg on. The jeans fit like a glove, and the row of interlocking notches holding them together was a marvelous invention. She pulled the tab up and down several times, watching the teeth come together and pull apart, and then she fastened the button at the top.
Aurora faced her reflection in the startlingly clear mirror and saw an auburn-haired girl with wide hazel eyes and pale skin. The new clothes hugged every curve of her body. She appeared like all the other girls she’d seen today and wondered if Joel would like her new look. Instantly, shame burned through her. How could she think about what some man she’d just met might think of her looks when her family was gone forever? A new wave of sadness crested and crashed through her, wiping away the momentary flash of vanity. Aurora took off the shirt and tried on the rest of the clothing with scarcely a glance in the mirror to see how they fit.
“How are you doing in there?” Joel called after several minutes, startling her with the nearness of his voice. “You can wear some of the clothes if they work for you.”
Work for her? He had such an odd way of saying things, but his accent was intriguing. She liked the way he drew out his vowels, long and lazy, yet the consonants were clipped and abrupt. His speech seemed to reflect two aspects of his character. She’d seen his capacity to be careful and patient with her, but sensed an underlying urgency that told her Joel was a man used to moving fast and making quick decisions.
