Faerietale

by Stephanie Rabig

  Alice resisted the urge to throw a pebble at him. She'd only met the Princess once before and even she could tell that something was wrong.

  "There was a windstorm," Snow White said quietly. "The Third Village. Some damage in Two, Four, and Six, too, but Three got hit the hardest. Early reports were of over a hundred dead. Less than an hour ago, part of the ceiling for the Village Shelter collapsed. At least three hundred dead there, maybe more. I'm--” She glanced around at the others, cleared her throat. “Brother. We need to do something."

  "Like what? The Queen and Mother Miriam will be back within the week, they--" At her look, he sighed. "Oh, all right. Set up a memorial ceremony. Summon everyone from the Third Village to the Central Courtyard. Tomorrow morning work all right?"

  ***

  “I don't envy his job,” Wendy said quietly, as the Prince addressed the crowd. “Trying to console a thousand people like this?”

  “Shouldn't be trying in the first place,” Alice muttered. “Not right now. 'Oh, you want to mourn with your family or set up arrangements to bury your loved one? Too bad, here's a summons, come listen to me talk!'”

  “And we will funnel all the funds necessary into the Third Village to not only rebuild the shelter, but to make it the best shelter in the Kingdom,” the Prince continued, reading from the speech he'd told Estelle to prepare for him last night. “As soon as all the names of the dead are verified, there will be a memorial. . .”

  Wendy sighed quietly. So far there were 428 people listed dead, with hundreds more injured. The--

  Then a flurry of motion, something flying toward the podium, and as Little Red pulled Snow White back, Wendy instinctively ducked down. The Prince was pulled down by another guard, but a few seconds later he was up again, his face splotchy.

  Mud, she realized. Somebody had thrown a handful of mud at him.

  “Who did that?” he yelled, and she flinched back at the fury in his voice.

  Furtive whispers flowed through the crowd, but no one stepped forward-- or was pushed forward, as Wendy had half-expected.

  “I said who?” When still nobody moved, the Prince nodded to Little Red and the other guards. “Go out there. Check their hands. Anyone who has mud--”

  “We all do!” one of the citizens yelled. “We've been digging!”

  The Prince swiped at his face, the rough motion reddening his skin even more than the anger already had. “Who did it?” Still, no one moved forward. Angry and embarrassed, he turned to Little Red, who whispered in his ear. When he turned back to the crowd again, he was smiling. “Whoever did this, you know who you are. And there were several people around you who had to see you make the throw. Whenever you want to come forward and tell me, you're welcome to do so. Until then, all monetary aid is cut off to the Third Village. Anyone from the other Villages caught trying to sneak money in will be imprisoned until the culprit is caught.”

  As the noise from the crowd grew louder, he turned and walked away, back into the palace. Snow White hurried after him, Alice on her heels. Wendy muttered a curse and ran after her. Now was certainly not the time to start spouting her opinions; in the mood the Prince was in she'd get tossed into the dungeon.

  “-- not going to punish all those people because of one person's actions,” Snow White was saying. “Offer a reward, and--”

  “And you'll get a thousand people turning in someone they don't like,” Alice said. “It was a handful of mud. These people just lost their families and one of them acted out and did something stupid. Wipe the mud off and get on with-- hey!” she yelped, as Wendy grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the siblings.

  “This is not your business,” Wendy said quietly, once they were out of earshot.

  “Like hell it's not! Those people need help and he's threatening to cut them off because his little ego got bruised?”

  “And you think your lecturing him will help how?” Wendy asked. “If anything, it'll only make him more stubborn. You aren't anywhere close to his equal. In his eyes,” she elaborated, when Alice glared at her. “Snow White is. I don't think she'll allow him to go through with it.”

  “I hope not. Because if he does, I'm going to cheer when someone does something a lot worse than throw a handful of mud at him.”

  “Do not say that,” Wendy hissed. “You think you'll do any good-- for those people or yourself-- if you get locked up because of your temper?”

  Alice glared at her a moment longer, and then her shoulders sagged. “No.”

  “Good. Now come on. Hopefully by the time the Prince comes across you again, he'll have calmed down.”

  Alice moved down the hallway slowly, trying to settle her nerves, and arrived at the harem's quarters a few minutes after Wendy. Her friend was sitting on the dark blue couch next to Fiametta. Estelle was continuing her book, though her hands were trembling as they turned a page. And Cybele . . . she was not changing again.

  Alice couldn't hold back a sigh. Before the speech, while even she'd been worrying over what was going to be done to help all those people-- she hadn't even been here for a full week, for Pete's sake-- Cybele had been fussing over the contents of her closet, trying on one outfit after another before finally scurrying out.

  “Are clothes all she ever thinks about?” she grumbled.

  Estelle got up from her seat and moved closer. The other woman made no attempt to touch her, but Alice took a step back just the same.

  “Our family is in the Third Village.”

  “I . . . she never said-- I'm sorry, I didn't--”

  Estelle didn't answer, just turned away from her, sitting down again. Alice couldn't blame her. Wendy was looking at her curiously now, and she gave the other woman a perfunctory 'don't worry about it' smile and then headed out into the courtyard.

  She needed Estelle's powers of observation, she thought wryly. Thinking back on it, Cybele hadn't been smiling as usual as she'd gone through her closet, hadn't been trading jokes with Fiametta or calling across the room to her sister. And her motions were usually fast, yes, but they were also purposeful. Not jerky and hesitant like they had been this morning. If she hadn't been so caught up in her own irritation, she might've realized something was wrong.

  From now on she'd make the effort, she thought. She'd try not to shoot her mouth off, work on just listening and watching instead. See what all she might be able to find out.

  She heard the door open behind her and glanced back, looking to her feet as she caught sight of Cybele. “Hey.”

  Cybele gave her a nod and walked several feet away, pausing for a moment before finally sitting down in the grass. Alice looked around, wondering if she should go back inside. Finally, she spoke. “You okay?” If she didn't answer or if she snapped at her or something, then she'd know to go back in. But she already felt bad enough for basically accusing her of being a shallow idiot behind her back; she didn't want to compound that by leaving her alone if she needed to talk to somebody.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh. Um. Well, glad to hear that.”

  Cybele glanced up at her. “Estelle told you, didn't she?”

  “About where your family. . .? Yeah. She told me.”

  “They'll be okay. I'm going to check on them." It was only then that Alice realized the outfit she'd been looking around for included a dark cloak. So far her observation work wasn't going so well.

  "Is that-- I mean, is that even allowed?"

  "I don't believe the Prince is in a mood to be bothered right now," she said with a brief smile. "He most likely won't come back to the harem for a day or two. I'll only be gone for today. He won't even miss me."

  ***

  "You cannot look me in the eye and tell me you want to do something so harsh," Snow said quietly.

  The Prince sighed deeply. "No. I don't. Now will you let me at my wardrobe? I need to get cleaned up."

  "After you send out the order to the guards to let aid go into the Third Village freely."

  He smiled, something sad and twiste
d and, worst of all, cynical about it. As much as she got after him sometimes to get more involved in the workings of the palace, a part of her regretted to see any change from the happy-go-lucky, laughing boy she'd always known. "What's the matter?"

  "My first order was never sent out. I overheard the guards talking. Not because I wanted to, mind, but they were quite close to the kitchens when I went down for a late-night snack for myself and Estelle. Nothing of importance is to be done before our dear mother and her closest friend return." Again, the twisted smile. "You didn't think they'd really leave us in charge, did you?"

  ***

  She had no idea where she was. She'd grown up here, thought of this place almost every day, but now she couldn't get her bearings.

  Cybele took off the black cloak that had afforded her passage without being noticed. Now she wanted people to see her out-of-place clothes, to know that one of the women from this Village who'd been chosen for the harem was here, for them to tell her family. Their home had been on the edge of the woods. Many of the trees were torn up now, but at least it gave her some point of familiarity so she could begin her search.

  She wandered through the rubble that had once been her Village, eyes searching for any familiar faces. She saw one of her former teachers, sitting on a broken stoop, staring out at the wreckage blankly. She saw one of her younger sister's friends, clutching a torn stuffed animal and crying. The girl's parents, thank Scheherazade, were beside her.

  "Cybele!"

  She turned quickly at the sound of her father's voice. "You're okay! Where are--"

  "Come help!"

  Cybele ran after him, coming quickly to what remained of her family's small house. She saw a painting that her mother had done of their family when she'd been a little girl and her sister Ravi had been only a baby, now torn and dirty on the ground. Her mother was close beside it, her hands torn and bloody, pulling up boards and clay bricks and shards of glass and tossing them aside.

  Ravi was still in there.

  She dropped down beside her mother and father, helping them dig. "Ravi!" she called. "Ravi, answer me! Has she said anything yet?" she asked her parents.

  "No," her father whispered.

  "She's fine," Cybele said. "She's okay. Ravi!"

  A short bark behind her had her glancing back and then stumbling away, nearly falling into the rubble at the sight of the wolf. She'd never actually seen one in person, though one of her strongest childhood memories was listening to their mournful howls and standing on the top of her flimsy dresser to peek out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of one out in the trees.

  "Mom-- dad--"

  "It's all right," her mother said, not looking away from her work. "It's been here since the winds died down."

  The wolf made a low grumbling sound as it passed them, and then it climbed to a different part of the remains of their house and started to dig.

  Cybele watched it for a moment, and then gingerly climbed over to help. Her parents could dig in one area, she and this animal could work on another, and hopefully they could find Ravi even faster.

  "We're looking for my little sister," she said, as she dragged a heavy board back. "Her name's Ravi. She just turned twelve a couple of weeks ago. I sent her a necklace. Mom keeps teasing me, says I can't give a practical gift if my life depends on it, but Ravi needs some impractical things once in a while, I think. Everybody does, right? And here I am talking to a wolf. I can't get much more impractical than that," she muttered. "Ravi!"

  "Sis?" Her sister's voice was thin, shaky, but there.

  "Hey! We're coming! Mom, dad, over here!" she called. Her parents raced over to them, dropping down to help dig, calling to Ravi and telling her to keep talking to them.

  Several moments later, a small, filthy hand poked its way out of the rubble, fisting itself in the wolf's fur. A second hand followed, and the wolf moved back, dragging her out of the crevice she'd been curled up in. Her mother snatched her up, hugging her close, laughing and crying at the same time. Cybele and her father surrounded them, patting Ravi on the back and asking if she was all right.

  In the midst of it all, Cybele almost didn't hear the yelp. She glanced to the side and saw the wolf, limping off toward the forest.

  Must've stepped on something, she realized. Was a miracle it hadn't happened sooner. She kissed Ravi on the cheek, then moved away. "I'll be right back."

  Her father followed her gaze, quickly put a hand on her shoulder. "Leave it. You don't know how a wounded animal's going to act."

  "I'm fine," she said. "Get Ravi to the shelter; I'll meet you there."

  She walked off before he could protest. She knew that she could try to explain that she faced a more dangerous predator almost every day at the palace now, but learning about Little Red would only worry her family further. And she wasn't going to corner this animal or anything else blatantly foolish, but she needed to at least check on it.

  Cybele found it again a short distance into the cover of the trees. It wasn't hard to find; it left a patter of blood drops with almost every step. It was curled up by a tree, inspecting its front left paw. There was a nail driven almost all the way through it.

  "Ohhh," Cybele said. Poor thing. "Here, let me get that out."

  The wolf jerked its head up at the sound of her voice, flattening its ears as it snarled.

  "It's okay," Cybele said quietly, sitting down on the ground. "I just want to help. All right?"

  The wolf huffed out a breath in a way that sounded eerily like a human sigh, and then it limped over to her and set its injured paw in her lap.

  "That's better. Hm." She looked at the injury, winced. Now that she'd gotten what she'd asked for, she wasn't entirely sure how to go about this. "I think you'd be better off having Fiametta here, really. She's studied potions and poultices and all sorts of other useful things. Okay. I'm just going to pull this out. You're not going to bite me when I do, are you?"

  The question was rhetorical, of course, but to her surprise the animal actually shook its head.

  "You're beginning to scare me a little," she said, and then took hold of the nail. "Okay. One, two, three." She quickly pulled the sharp metal out, scratching the wolf behind the ears as soon as it was done. "There, see? All better. Well, not quite," she amended. "That needs washed out. And it couldn't hurt to put a little gem leaf poultice on it. They'll have supplies at the shelter. You probably don't want to walk with me all the way there, though. I'll go get something for you, and you stay right here."

  She didn't worry too much about him leaving-- she couldn't imagine an animal wanting to walk any kind of distance on that paw-- but by the time she managed to reach the shelter, talked to her family, got updates from other people she knew about their families and friends and what aid arrangements were being set up, got a bit of medicine and water and made her way back, it was after dark.

  The wolf wasn't there.

  "Oh dear," she whispered. She couldn't track bloodstains in the dark. "Hello?"

  She half-expected a bark, something to tell her where the animal had chosen to hole up for the night, so the soft, "Hello", that answered her nearly made her jump out of her skin.

  "Who are you?" she asked. "Have you seen a wolf around here? I left him right next to this tree."

  The stranger smiled crookedly. "He's fine. Trust me."

  "I can't really do that," Cybele said. "I would like to, truly, but there were some rather distasteful people back in my Village talking about how they would like to have a wolf coat come winter, or a stuffed trophy in their main room. So I'm afraid I'm going to have to just stand here until you tell me where he is."

  "Right in front of you."

  Cybele stared at him. She'd never heard of an ability like that. And if there was a way to achieve it with a potion then surely Fiametta would've mentioned it by now. "That's impossible."

  "I think you already know it's not."

  She noted the makeshift bandage on his left hand, remembered the way the animal
had seemed to communicate with her. This man's voice was deep, reminded her oddly of the wolf's growl. But still. . . "If it's the truth, then show me."

  The man shrugged, then began to unbutton his shirt. "Unless you want to purchase new clothes for me. . ."

  "Sadly, I left all my silver in the castle," she said, her lips twitching in amusement. If he thought to offend her and thus send her off with no answers, he had chosen very much the wrong tactic.

  She did rather feel sorry for men, she thought. Though there were some variations in their clothes-- the Prince always had such wonderfully styled coats, and hats, and his waistcoats were always impeccable-- the basic style was the same. White or black shirt, dark or tan trousers, suspenders . . . where was the color? She got to choose between an infinite variety of colors, materials, long or short dresses and skirts, and the jewelry was consistently amazing. All the poor men got were pocketwatches and walking sticks. The Prince and some of the higher-ups who visited the palace had some quite stunning gloves, but that seemed a trifle in comparison to what she could choose from.

  Though, she decided, she would have to see if the Prince might start wearing his shirtsleeves rolled up halfway. She'd decided within the past couple of moments that she quite liked that look.

  Then every thought flew out of her mind as the air around the man began to glow. It wasn't a bright light, rather a deep forest green with striations as gold as the wolf's eyes. And when the odd light faded, the wolf stood before her.

  Cybele laughed, clapping her hands in delight. "That is the singularly most fantastic thing I've ever seen!" she said. "However did you manage it?"

  "Unfortunately, it's a curse," he said as he changed back. "I don't have any choice but to change form if I leave this forest."

  "Well, I do thank you for leaving the forest today," she said. He winced a little as he started to get back into his clothes, and she shook her head at herself. Here she had the gem leaf poultice and a flask of water in her satchel, and she'd still managed to forget his injury. "Here, let me get that."