Five Magic Spindles: A Collection of Sleeping Beauty Stories

by Rachel Kovaciny

“I do not think there will be a shortage of things to discuss.” Edmond smiled and reached for Arabella’s hand but pulled away when he realized what he was doing.

  “Go ahead. You will need to hold her hand.”

  “I will?”

  “Yes. And hold this as well.” Lona pulled a string from around her neck. It was tied to a long wooden spindle which she held out to him.

  Edmond took it warily. “Is this the spindle that brought the curse on her?”

  “Yes. I think that is why it is able to do what it does. It has a connection to her. I discovered it by chance.” Lona pulled a stool up beside the bed and beckoned for him to sit down. He did so then gently took the hand nearest him on the bed.

  Her skin was soft and warm but slack. The pulse throbbing in her wrist reassured him.

  “You must go to sleep, for she can only talk to you in the dream world. I have learned to fall into a light sleep from which I can easily rouse myself, but I do not know if that will work for you.”

  Edmond relaxed and awaited further instructions.

  “Go to sleep. The spindle will do the rest. And do not worry. Martin and I will stand guard.”

  Lona left the chamber, and Edmond thought for a moment how strange this all was. But he was tired, and the feather mattress seemed to call to him. He wished he could stretch out on it, for he hadn’t slept in a bed for over a week; but he settled for leaning his head on it, with the hand holding the spindle beneath his forehead as a pillow.

  Sleep found him quickly, and he was pulled into a vortex of colors from which he emerged into Arabella’s chamber again. It looked precisely as it had before except that there was no bed here and no sleeping princess—only a very awake one.

  He saw that she was taller standing than he had expected and more regal with her perfect posture and tipped-up chin. Even more striking were her blue eyes, as clear and blue as a deep lake.

  After a moment he realized he was staring and tore his gaze away. He bowed low and said, “Princess Arabella, I am honored.”

  She gave him a regal nod. “As am I, Prince Edmond.” Then she laughed, a short, breathless sound that betrayed her nervousness. “Perhaps now you will feel more as if we have been introduced. I don’t think you quite believed the last one.”

  “Do you blame me?”

  “No.” Arabella gestured to the space around them. “How do you like it here? This has been the sum of my existence for over a century now.”

  Edmond looked around, finding the room empty of furnishings and ornaments of any kind. The window, however, swirled with colors. Walking over to it, he looked out and found that he could see for miles around. If he focused on any one thing, he could make out every detail of it.

  “This is how you were able to see me cross the border as Lona said.”

  “Yes. I can see anything within my kingdom.”

  Amazed, Edmond said, “My father would give his whole fortune to do that. Everything you see is real?”

  “So far as I can tell. Certainly they have always been proven true from what we learn of the outside world, though that isn’t much. But I cannot hear anything in these visions of the real world, and I do not see everything, so most things remain a mystery.”

  “And yet, I wonder if you don’t see more than most.”

  “It is true that I have learned much about human nature and the masks people wear.”

  “People like Lady Rhoswen?”

  With a slight, hesitant nod, Arabella said, “Yes, her most of all. Though I still don’t know what to believe. She has always been my older, wiser cousin. I do not think she has ever loved me, but she has loved my people. They are her people too, after all. But just as she has sacrificed the lives of so many of the fairies, she is now prepared to take my life for the good of the kingdom.”

  “I am sorry, but I cannot credit her with such pure motives.”

  “And what can you, a stranger here who has only met her once, know of her motives?”

  “Perhaps more than most because of the very fact that I am a stranger. I may observe her with new eyes.” Edmond folded his arms across his chest and wondered how Arabella would react to his next words. “She proposed that I should marry her.”

  Arabella’s eyes widened and she tilted her head. “That is certainly interesting.”

  “She was careful to point out the advantages of marrying her if I wished to be king rather than risking my life to find you.”

  With a delicate shrug, Arabella sighed. “Her logic is solid. And she had already determined to end my curse the only way she could.”

  With one sharp shake of his fist, Edmond said, “Exactly. The only way she could. She knew, however, that there was a chance I might break it another way: by waking you. And she has tried to stop me using every means available to her. I barely escaped her castle, her dragon attacked me by the river, and I feel in my bones that she has another scheme in play with Prince Nicol.”

  “But all these years she has protected me.”

  “All these years her father was alive and heir before her. Now there is nothing between her and supreme power in this kingdom but one defenseless sleeping princess who is in her keeping.”

  Her eyes troubled, Arabella paced between Edmond and the window. “I cannot believe that she has planned this all along. Has power corrupted her?”

  “Power has that effect on most people, so it is possible. I do not claim to know all the answers here.”

  Arabella stopped pacing and looked at him. “And yet you have discerned so many of them already.”

  “I am well versed in scheming and manipulative royals.” Edmond heard the derision in his voice and wondered if Arabella would question it. But though she studied him briefly, she said nothing of it.

  Her voice was soft when she spoke again. “Yet you are willing to love me, a royal, and break my curse.”

  Edmond’s muscles tensed. “I will be honest with you, Princess Arabella: I did not come here expecting to love you or even believing that I could.”

  Arabella’s head drooped, hiding her expression. “Then why come at all?”

  “I came because my father sent me. Indeed, he sired me, his second son, only for this purpose—a gamble that might pay off, and one for which he was willing to gamble my life.”

  “This still does not explain why you came.”

  “No, I suppose not. I came because I have not been allowed in the whole of my existence to choose for myself. But if I survive this quest, I might escape any more of my father’s interference in my life.”

  Arabella smiled a polite, courtly smile. “So your reward does not depend on breaking this curse.”

  There was a long pause. “No. It doesn’t. And I have no desire to be anyone’s king.”

  Arabella turned and leaned against the window sill, looking out into the swirling images.

  With a surge of frustration rising in him, Edmond spoke more sharply than he intended. “Where is your spirit? Do you not want to be free of this?”

  She only turned her head, but her words jabbed at his soul. “You cannot know how I want to be free. The chains of this curse are such as I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. But I am at your mercy, sir.”

  “Then find your courage. Enthrall me until I am at your mercy as well. You have beauty, grace, and wit to aid you. I have nothing to offer you but a soldier’s skills and a heart that has never known gentle emotions. But they are yours to command. I never said that I was unwilling to stay at your side and try.”

  With a choked laugh, Arabella turned fully to face him. “No man has ever dared speak to me as plainly as you do.”

  “I brave it only because at present you are in no position to throw me into a dungeon and torture me.”

  “You forget my loyal protector. Lona wields her magic with discretion at all times—unless she is angry.”

  Edmond grinned. “Then I hope you will account my words as I meant them. I want to see justice done here, and I can do it only if you fight by my si
de.”

  She laughed again, this time with a bubble of true mirth. “Now I know why others watch you and respond to your presence as if you were a king among them, whether you want to be one or not. You are sharp and hard like an arrow in flight—a force for good, and one to be reckoned with.”

  “Perhaps not a poor choice to give your heart to then?”

  “Perhaps. Though I believe love is no slave to wisdom. I wonder what does rule it? If we could command our hearts, this would be easier.”

  “I am entirely uneducated in the science of love. I must have words with Martin about neglecting so important a matter when he trained me for this quest.”

  “Martin seems very loyal.”

  “Yes, and his loyalty lies first with you. I—”

  Before he could finish, Arabella focused her attention elsewhere. “No!” she screamed. “Someone is touching me.”

  “What? Do you mean in the waking world? I am holding your hand.”

  “No.” She gave a disgusted, frightened gasp. “Someone is kissing me!”

  Alarmed, Edmond asked, “How do I get back?”

  “You must wake up.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He shouted inside his head, “Wake up, you fool!”

  With a heavy, foggy feeling, he pulled himself back into consciousness and opened his eyes to see Prince Nicol on the other side of Arabella’s bed with his head bent over hers. In a flash, Edmond pulled a knife and shoved its point against the man’s white neck.

  “You will stop at once,” Edmond said with venom in his voice.

  Prince Nicol froze, lifting his head only a fraction. His hands quivered slightly as he raised them off the bed, but his voice was calm. “May I stand back?”

  A little awkwardly, Edmond drew his sword while keeping his knife against the other man’s skin. “Yes, though if you are wise, you will do so with great caution.”

  In slow, careful degrees, Prince Nicol straightened. Edmond held him at sword point as the distance grew between them.

  “It is a pity she didn’t wake up,” Prince Nicol said. His voice was refined and bored.

  “Did you expect her to?”

  “No, but it was worth a try. Now I shall have to kill her, which is a shame, don’t you think?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but the lady is under my protection.”

  Prince Nicol leapt backward and drew his sword. With the bed between them, Edmond was forced to vault over it after him.

  “I am a fool, I suppose,” Prince Nicol said. “Lady Rhoswen was most insistent that I not kill you, only the princess. I gather you are to be her new plaything. But now I shall have to kill you anyway, and it would have been so much easier while you were snoring.”

  Edmond kept his face a careful blank though his temper burned. “Yes, you should have taken the opportunity. You won’t get another.”

  Moving cautiously like a cat afraid of startling a bird, Prince Nicol adjusted his stance. “You are grown confident after besting my men, I see. However, you face a different class of foe now.”

  “Not so different. One class is poorly trained and the other is cowardly.”

  Edmond’s mockery broke Nicol’s caution. The man sprang forward, swinging his sword. Edmond met it with a crashing blow of his own. The collision jarred his wrist and shoulder, but his muscles held firm. He was able to disengage and draw back several paces. He dared not glance toward Arabella where she lay still and defenseless, so close to danger. His need to protect her hampered his ability to attack.

  With a cry, Edmond rushed on Nicol, cutting and jabbing with violent strokes, driving him back against the thorn-covered wall. Before he could corner him, Nicol spun away. Edmond fell heavily against the wall and pushed off again, thorns digging into his unprotected hands, then turned in time to see Nicol raise his sword over Arabella.

  With a running leap, Edmond tackled him from behind. The sword went flying, but Nicol crashed on top of Arabella. The adversaries slid off the high, narrow bed, bringing Arabella down with them. Edmond heard her head hit the ground, but he could not help her. Nicol was pinned beneath him, struggling to break free; so he punched his fist into the side of the prince’s face once, twice, and a third time before the man went limp.

  Just as Edmond stood and rolled the other man across the floor in a heap, Lona burst into the chamber, her wild eyes searching in the dim light. “Is the princess safe?”

  “Safe, but likely hurt.” As Martin ran in, Edmond pointed at the unconscious prince. “Guard him. If he wakes up, don’t be gentle about knocking him out again.”

  He leaned down and examined Arabella. She was as peaceful as ever on the surface, though she breathed more quickly and shallowly than before. “Forgive me, Arabella,” he whispered, both for letting her be hurt and for what he needed to do next.

  He slid his arms beneath her and lifted her back onto the bed, carefully laying her head on the pillow. Then he ran gentle but firm hands down her arms and legs, searching for breaks. “Nothing seems broken, but I do not know where she hurts. How can I ask her? I couldn’t possibly go to sleep now.”

  “Let me,” Lona said, holding out a shaking hand for the spindle.

  After a quick search Edmond snatched the spindle off the floor, handed it to the fairy, and watched, amazed, as she slipped effortlessly into sleep. A moment later she shook her head to wakefulness and said, “Her head aches terribly, and she feels bruised all over but believes she is well. She wishes me to thank you for saving her.”

  Edmond said nothing. But he gripped Arabella’s warm hand in his and mentally thrashed himself for not protecting her better.

  Lona scowled down at the limp prince as Martin stood over him. “Curses! Who is this? How did he get in here?” She pointed her wand and directed the thorns to slither across the floor and wrap themselves around Nicol’s ankles and chest, binding his arms to his side. The thorns cut his flesh wherever it was not protected by leather or steel armor, but he didn’t stir.

  Edmond was thinking hard. “He is Prince Nicol of Windemore. I suspect Lady Rhoswen told him about your secret tunnel. Where were you two all this time? How did he get past you?”

  “That blasted dragon was trying to burn down the castle, so Martin and I were out in the courtyard doing what we could. Then it flew away and we heard the commotion up here.”

  “A diversion then,” Edmond said, nodding. “He was here at Lady Rhoswen’s bidding, sent to kill Arabella.”

  “Then she is not holding to the time frame she gave me,” Lona said.

  Edmond met Lona’s eyes. “She’s desperate now that I’m here. I threaten all her ambitions.”

  Chapter 8

  FEW THINGS REMIND A person they’re alive quite so vibrantly as pain. Arabella felt oddly comforted by it. But she could tell by the grip of his firm, calloused hand that Edmond was distressed. And it was just as clear that Lona was furious.

  Arabella’s mind could move freely between the realm of dreams and the darkness behind her eyelids. She preferred the dreams because she hated feeling blind, but she wanted to be present in the real world to fully grasp what went on around her. To her left, Lona spoke.

  “I’m going to turn him into a slug and put him out on a stone in the sun.”

  “Will you at least wait until we question him?” Martin said.

  “You wish to question him, do you? Then I know what to do. I’ll be back.”

  Martin spoke again in his low, rough voice. “What do you suppose she’s doing?”

  “I wouldn’t dare hazard a guess,” Edmond said. In contrast to Martin, he spoke with refinement, but his voice was firm and decisive. And it was directed toward her so that she knew he was looking at her.

  “She’s a rare beauty, isn’t she?” Martin asked. “The princess, I mean.”

  “Rare indeed.”

  “Did you really talk to her in the dream world like Lona said?”

  “As strange as it seems, I did. She
can hear us, you know. It feels strange to speak of her as if she isn’t here when I know she’s listening.” Then Edmond laughed, a deep rumble that took her by surprise, and said, “Martin, you’re blushing.”

  “No, I’m not. It’s hot in here, what with that fire outside and running up all those steps.”

  Lona’s voice erupted into the room, vibrating with purpose. “I found it.”

  “A birdcage?” Edmond asked.

  “Just wait.” There was a soft whooshing sound and then shouts of “Catch it! Catch the mangy thing!”

  After much jostling and exclaiming, metal clanged, and a squeaky voice said, “Turn me back! Turn me back! How dare you do this to me?”

  “Because you are a rat, a filthy vermin, creeping in here to kill my princess. Now you look like what you are.”

  “I am a prince, woman.”

  “You are muck. Answer our questions or you will find that a worse fate awaits you.”

  “Prince Edmond, I appeal to your mercy,” Nicol said. “Torture me, slay me . . . anything but this!”

  “We shall see how forthcoming you are with information,” Edmond said, his voice as hard as granite. “Take him to the kitchen, Martin. Lona, see what you can discover from him. I’ll join you in a moment.”

  Their footsteps faded away, as did Prince Nicol’s indignant squeaking. Then Arabella felt a tickling sensation on her cheek and realized Edmond had brushed back a strand of her hair. “I cannot possibly express how sorry I am that I failed you, Princess. I will not do so again, I assure you.”

  Then he too was gone.

  Time seemed to crawl at half its normal speed before Edmond returned to visit her in the dream world, though it was only the next morning.

  “Martin and I blocked off the tunnel,” he said as soon as he appeared. “There was plenty of broken furniture, crumbling statuary, and loose stones from the courtyard wall to do the job. If anyone tries to use the tunnel, they won’t get through easily or with any degree of stealth.”

  “I’m glad. But Rhoswen won’t give up,” Arabella said.

  “No, she won’t, and I’m very aware that she has a dragon to do her bidding. I think we should move you to a safe location.”