All of the Lamias snarled, and then most disappeared, leaving the true one to charge at Shani.
***
Little Red giggled as she set the next fire and then, just for the fun of it, hurried to the next apartment row and went to work on one of the thick support posts with her small, sturdy ax.
Imagine. A city on stilts. It had been invented for her to have fun with, she was sure of it. People in the next building over were screaming. Most in this building weren't coming out yet. The urge to help one's neighbor wasn't strong here.
Completely understandable, Red thought. But this time it would work against them.
"Red!"
She turned quickly, her smile broadening as she saw Snow White. "Princess," she said, giving a mock bow. Far from the first person she'd expected to show up here, but this could be entertaining. "How wonderful to see you again."
Instead of answering-- apparently she wasn't in a mood to play tonight-- the Princess simply drew her sword and slashed down. Little Red was ready, her own long blade in hand, and metal clashed against metal as the fire grew behind them.
***
She was so focused on the fight that at first Cybele barely realized that someone was working on the ropes binding her hands. She looked to the side, blinking in surprise when she saw the Prince.
"You . . . what are you doing here?"
"Trying to rescue you." He nodded to the fight. "Granted, it's not as dramatic as all that, but--"
He cut off as the two women fell to the ground only a few feet away, Lamia landing a hard punch to the side of Shani's head as they fell. Shani grunted in pain, but returned the blow with one of her own-- and she was still clutching one of her daggers.
Shrieking, Lamia rolled away, clutching her wounded head. She watched Shani as the other woman staggered to her feet, bloody knife in hand-- and then she ran.
"Well," Shani said. "That's that, for now."
"No," the Knight said. "The Door's unguarded, she--"
"Not anymore," Shani said. "Roxana ran for the Guards as we were leaving. There's probably twenty of them on the other side of the Door by now, waiting for whoever comes through. Here," she said, handing the Prince her remaining dagger as she went off to search for the one that had gone missing in the fight. With that, he made quick work of the ropes.
All three of them scrambled away from the building before the fire could collapse it on top of them, and then Cybele grabbed both the men's arms, pulling them into a tight hug. Then she let go of the Knight, giving him a smile and a nod of thanks before she grabbed the Prince's shoulders and pulled herself up on tiptoe to kiss him.
"Prince," Shani said quietly, and he slowly moved away from Cybele, looking toward where the other woman was staring. His sister staggered into view through the smoke, and both he and Cybele ran to her.
"What--"
"Swordfights with Little Red, not really the best idea," Snow White said, leaning hard against her brother. "Come on," she said. "Let's get through Wendy's Door before the Guards decide to come in."
"Wendy's--" Cybele asked.
"Long story," Snow said.
The Knight shook his head. "I'm staying," he said. "People are hurt. The dragons will come hunting."
"I'll stay as well," Shani said, picking up her second dagger.
The Prince nodded, then glanced back at Shani. "If . . . I know now you haven't been happy in the harem. You don't have to stay." He smiled. "You're a Knight. And as soon as we get this whole mess sorted out, I'll declare it in front of the Kingdom myself."
She gave him a brilliant smile-- the first one he'd ever seen from her-- and then disappeared into the smoke.
***
". . . and then he and Snow White came back tonight to talk to us about this place. And you know the rest," Estelle said, as the group of them slowly made their way toward the rebel camp.
Cybele nodded. She did indeed know the rest. And though she normally might've let it go at that, part of her mind was still trapped with Lamia and Little Red, hands bound and smoke clogging the air. It didn't help that her hair still smelled like smoke. "I just wish I would've known everything else sooner."
Estelle paused briefly. "What?"
"I didn't even know the Prince was gone. Or . . . or anything about Catherine. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want you to worry."
"I worried anyway!" Cybele said. "I got thrown into the Shadow City for no reason and that was because I was lucky; I was so scared that one day I'd just stop getting visits from you and it'd be because someone had lied about you, too, only the Queen wouldn't listen to Mother Miriam this time and-- and I knew something was wrong," she said, embarrassed to hear tears in her voice. "I'm not a fool."
"I never said that. I never thought that," Estelle said, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a tight squeeze.
***
Fiametta looked up at the sound of a pained groan, shoving a lock of soot-caked hair out of her face as she motioned the man forward. "Come on, then," she said. She'd dealt with several before him and there was a line of many after. "What happened?"
"Dragon-- bit me. . ."
He moved closer then, grimace turning into a grin, and something silver flashed in his hand. Fiametta quickly leaned back, the knife just grazing her shoulder. The man laughed, a high-pitched giggling sound, and started to go for her again.
Then a blade seemed to erupt out of his throat.
Fiametta winced and looked away, simply heard the thump of his body hitting the ground. "Everyone," Shani said, yanking her sword out of the body. "Fiametta is here to help you and is therefore to be treated with the utmost kindness. Is that understood?"
People nodded or murmured their assent.
"Good," Shani said, and walked away.
Fiametta edged away from the body as she got back to work. Most of the Shadows had been moved up to safety, into one of the two remaining structures. The Knight and Shani had carried those who were too weak to walk; she hadn't the strength for such a thing and had stayed down here to attend to those who were too wounded to join their companions yet.
The Guards from the palace had retreated, to get supplies so that some of the buildings could be remade once daylight chased the dragons back into the forest. But for now night still reigned, and dragons were lured by the uncommon noise and the smell of burned flesh.
She thought she'd seen the Forest Witch, standing off in the trees, a smile on her face. Hopefully it had just been a trick of her overactive imagination combined with the smoke. She had still warned Shani, just in case. Maybe the Witch would just take the opportunity to flee. She hoped so, for Shani and the Knight's sake. They had enough to deal with already.
Shani hadn't realized how much she'd truly missed battle.
The harem was another kind of war entirely-- making sure her hatred for those she was supposed to be eternally grateful to was never discovered; always saying the right thing at the right time; guard never down for a moment.
But this. Actually striking at an enemy with her sword, killing that which needed killed for the protection of others. It brought a fierce light to her heart that no important dinner or new dress could ever hope to compare to.
She drove her sword straight into the mouth of a charging dragon, spearing it through the brain, her teeth bared in a smile.
"How do you fare?" she called to her companion. For once, the Knight didn't answer, and she turned to search for him. He was running from one of the dragons and she started to go to his aid, but then she saw the pile of rubble he had almost reached and realized his plan.
She watched as he turned to face the beast and then dropped down, propping his sword against some of the heavy former columns. The animal, fully into its charge, impaled itself on the blade.
He edged away from the dead creature and retrieved his sword. "Well done," she said.
He gave a look to her sword, which was also coated in blood. "And you."
An odd thing
, Shani thought. Even though he'd become rather tolerable, to her there was still something boyish about the Prince. She saw nothing boyish here.
It made no sense. The blood, his own and that of others; grime and sand that matched the coating on her own skin; and she should be wrinkling her nose and suggesting a trip to the nearest river as soon as they were certain all of the dragons were taken care of. Instead, by Scheherazade, she wanted.
It was forbidden-- simply because the Prince had promised her Knighthood didn't mean he would not still expect her to come to his bed-- but for a moment she let herself imagine what it would be like if she risked it.
***
She wasn't the first person they saw-- there'd been a guard of some sort; Alice rocketing across the field and asking a million questions that all blurred together; men and women asking how everything had gone. But she was the first one Cybele truly focused on.
The young woman was sitting by a tree, her eyes on them and her hands twisting restlessly in her lap. Her hands. Shining metal ones, to replace the ones she'd. . .
Some of her bone-deep exhaustion lifted enough to let her change direction and head for the tree. The young woman started to say something, but before she could Cybele dropped down next to her and enveloped her in a tight hug. "Oh, you poor thing! I wish I'd been there; I would most certainly have convinced you not to go through with it or at the very least I would've stolen a pain-dimmer potion from Fiametta's bag because that must've hurt terribly. You are all right now?" she asked, pulling back enough to look her in the eye. "And only the truth, please. I have had plenty of people lie to me lately and while they did mean well, I still do not appreciate it and from now on I am only accepting plain fact. Well?"
"I . . . I cannot say that I am fine," Catherine stammered. "But I am much closer to it than I was on the night when I took such drastic action."
"I suppose that will do for now," Cybele said. "Once I get some sleep I shall tell you some of the stories that Alice and Wendy gave us; those will cheer anyone up. Well, maybe not the one about Hannibal Lecter. I do not know why Alice would subject to keeping such a thing in her memory, much less decide to pass it on to us." She yawned, decided that any bed was too far away to walk to, and just scooted over enough to curl up on the ground, pillowing her head in her hands.
Catherine stayed where she was, eyeing Cybele like she was unsure whether to laugh or simply edge away slowly.
“Oh!” Cybele said, bolting up. “I almost forgot! Estelle! Estelle, you simply must give the other Shadows the potion that Fiametta made!” She patted Catherine's arm. “I'll be back in a few moments.”
“All right,” Catherine said, watching as Cybele rushed over to her sister, who took a clear jug of blue-and-gold potion out of her satchel.
Eight other people, all of them gray, slowly approached. Cybele herself leaned on her sister for a moment, catching her breath.
“You shouldn't run,” Estelle scolded gently. “Are you all right?”
“I'm fine. Do you think this will be enough for everyone?”
“If not, I'm quite sure Fiametta will make more after this-- after all this is done. Cups?” she asked, and then she divided the potion up as evenly as she could. It left what looked like two or three swallows for everyone. Catherine edged closer, waiting to see what would happen.
No one's energy flared back. Skin still held a grayish, chalky tone. Hair didn't shine.
But cheeks regained some color; shades of eyes brightened or darkened; lips looked natural again instead of death pale. The former Shadows looked to each other, grinning, and Cybele smiled as she put an arm around her sister's shoulders.
Chapter Twelve
Once Upon a Time...
Rudolf didn't know how it happened. He'd never heard of people accidentally going through Doors before. Doors were for sorcerers and witches, for people who knew what they were doing. They were not for someone who was just out for a walk in the forest.
But with one step he was in the forest-- familiar, warm, the sounds of the nearby birds letting him know that there was currently no danger-- and with the next step he was in a world of ice.
He sucked in a surprised breath and immediately regretted it; he felt like he'd just frozen the entire inside of his body. He whirled around and tried to step back through whatever Door he'd accidentally encountered, but nothing. For what seemed an eternity he ran around in circles, feet crunching in the deep snow, frantic to find an escape.
"Rudolf."
He turned, panting, breath visible in front of him and hair in a wild disarray from all the spinning, and abruptly wished that he made for a better sight. For the woman in front of him was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.
He'd always been tall. Had grown taller than his mother early in his teenage years, and soon after had surpassed his brother. This woman was almost a head taller than he was. Her hair was pulled back in a severe topknot-- almost everything about her was severe, from the lines of her clothes to her stance. But the necklace she wore was a delicate thing, and he fancied that he saw some softness in her gaze as she regarded him.
He bowed to her, for he felt that nothing else would be acceptable. Such a vision had to be a Princess, if not a Queen.
"Come with me."
Without question, he followed.
***
On the day that he finally had a thought about leaving, she placed a hand on his shoulder and told him he could not.
"At least, not without a high price," she murmured. "Those who come to my realm are not suited for anywhere else."
He nodded. She was right; he felt more at home here than he ever had in the forest or the palace back home. Granted, he did miss his mother and Wolfram-- it was thoughts of them that had him entertaining the thought of going back home-- but this place was extraordinary. And he was growing to actually like the cold. Though she hadn't said as much, Rudolf was deeply certain that the Snow Queen had chosen him to come here.
"You will leave one day," she said, certainty in her voice. And was that sadness, as well? He liked to think so.
He rested his hand on top of hers, relishing the chill it sent through him. "Never."
"You will steal a kiss," she told him quietly. "And six months from that day, you will go. Regardless of the fact that you will not be suited to your old home anymore, will not survive there for more than a year."
He felt another chill, though this one had nothing to do with her touch. "That is ridiculous, then," he said. "If here is where I can live, then here is where I'll stay."
She smiled, a wry expression, shard of ice for a mouth, and then walked away.
***
He began to miss the sun.
***
One day, though he knew it was a mistake, he did steal a kiss. And as he pressed his lips to hers he knew that this was something he'd always been fated to do.
She pulled back a moment later, her lips slightly pink, the rest of her face as impassive as ever.
Then she turned and walked away.
Furious, his pride wounded-- had she felt nothing even then? Had he only been fooling himself that she'd brought him here? Perhaps he truly had just stumbled through a Door and now he was simply a bothersome houseguest, the equivalent to a fly buzzing around her-- he hurried after her, all the way to her bedchambers.
She slept on a smooth block of ice.
He barely had time to register that fact before he saw her stop in front of the wall and press her hand to it. The wall curved out, forming a clear, hollow globe. He started to ask her what she was doing, couldn't seem to bring himself to speak.
Then she leaned forward and touched her lips to the ice, exhaling a deep breath.
When she turned back to him, her lips were blue-toned once again. He kept his gaze on them, unable to fully comprehend what he had just seen. For when she'd sighed into the globe, he'd seen a shape form in there. A shape that looked eerily like an infant.
The infant still hung suspended there; he
could see part of its silhouette past her shoulder, but he dared not focus. Though later he was ashamed of himself, the only thing he could do at that moment was turn and run.
***
She found him outside of her sanctuary, delirious and snow-blind, and silently led him back home.
***
Once he'd recovered, he went to go see the child-- his child-- again. He nearly touched his nose to the thin ice, staring in at her. It was a her. Dark hair grew, first a fuzz on top of her head and then two days later reaching down to her tiny shoulders. Though it was deep black, it was a color, and he thrilled to see it in this place.
Though he wanted to rest his hand against the ice that held her, he refrained. The Snow Queen had warned him against it, had told him that at this stage of her development, too much warmth was dangerous.
As she grew further, he knew what the Snow Queen had meant when she'd told him that he would leave. For however much he'd tried to selfishly convince himself otherwise, no child belonged here. She belonged in forests she could roam, lush places with animals and birds and greenery. Belonged in the palace, with other people.
Even if it meant his own life, she would have what she deserved.
***
"It is time."
Rudolf opened his eyes, and leapt up off his pallet of straw so fast he nearly slid across the floor. Heedless of the potential danger, he ran to the Snow Queen's bedchambers, stopping in front of his little girl.
"She's ready?" he whispered.
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