To The Fairest

by Adrianne Brooks

  Hidden in the crowd as I was, maybe I could give him the opening he needed.

  “Samuel.” Danielle said pleasantly. “It’s lovely to see you again.”

  Sam inclined his head politely enough but his eyes promised murder.

  “Ms. Woodrow.” He said. This surprised me, though I wasn’t sure why it should have. My father had been dead for years, and legally Danielle had gone back to her maiden name. I’d just never thought of what that actually meant. All this time, I’d still been thinking of her as a Greyson. As an ally. When all the evidence pointed to the exact opposite. It was high time I accepted that. I saw Sam’s eyes dart in my direction, a split second slip. “What are you doing here?” He asked her, and Danielle laughed.

  “Believe it or not young man, I’ve been visiting your little family more often than you have lately. What with my daughter dragging your attention away from your responsibilities.”

  I froze, waiting for her to turn and look at me, to call me out.

  But she didn’t.

  I relaxed by slow degrees. Maybe she hadn’t figured out about the switch yet. Sam must have figured it out at the same time, because he scowled at Danielle.

  “Where is she?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know.

  Danielle glared at him. “Somewhere safe. Which is more than you’d be able to say had I left her in your care.”

  Safe.

  Mal was safe.

  “Though from what I hear, it isn’t like you’ve noticed her absence all that much.” Her upper lip curled. “Really Samuel. A witch? I thought you had more taste than that.” She held up a hand to halt his reply. “Never mind. I didn’t come here to scold you about keeping it in your pants.”

  “Then why did you come?”

  “Because today marks the beginning of a new era.” She said, and her face lit with fervor.

  “And what era is that?” He asked her.

  She threw back her head and laughed and I noticed that most of the teeth were missing. In addition to the bald patches that decorated her skull, I surmised that Danielle must have been keeping herself moderately presentable with the help of cosmetics and hair extensions. It didn’t bode well that she was no longer wearing either. It was sort of like seeing the face of your kidnapper. Once you saw it, your life was forfeit.

  “One in which people like me prosper.” She told Sam. “You can to. If you’re willing to play along.” Sam stayed quiet and Danielle continued. “It was supposed to be that little upstart Paiden, but he wasn’t nearly as strong as I thought he’d be.” She shrugged, the death of the young man as insignificant to her as the death of a bug. “It was agreed that should he gain control of the clutch, he would turn the rest of your people over to us. However, since it seems as if you’re still the head man in charge, I’ll present the offer to you instead.”

  “If I refuse?” Sam asked after a moment.

  Without turning away from him, Danielle flicked her wrists towards us. The same weight in the air that had prevented the dragons from shifting began to move us all backwards towards the cliff’s edge. It was then that I realized that she had placed us within some sort of stasis. She hadn’t forced the dragons to stop shifting so much as she had poured the metaphysical equivalent of wet concrete over all of us. Someone was sobbing behind me but I couldn’t turn to look and see who it was thanks to the stasis spell. The sobbing turned into a scream and then we all heard the clatter of rocks as we lost one of our number to the ocean below.

  “There aren’t many of you left.” Danielle reminded him, almost kindly, all the while still inching us towards the edge. Knowing what she planned now, the dragons began to scramble for purchase, trying desperately to break the stasis. People began crying, pleading for help from the men who stood immobile and emotionless by Danielle’s side. “Your kind are too great a threat to leave to your own devices. Either you swear your loyalty to the demons, or I wipe the rest of you out here and now.”

  ‘Calm down Alex.’ I thought desperately the screaming shifters around me playing havoc with my concentration. ‘You know this. You know this magic. You know how it’s built, where its strong points are as well as its weaknesses. Now break it.’

  It took some doing but I was finally able to shape my magic how I wanted it. Rather than try and halt our progress, I slipped in through the cracks and crevices of Danielle’s spell and began weakening them. Pinpoint holes became gaping ones, thin spots became tears, and the stasis fell apart with enough suddenness to make her stumble.

  The clutch scrambled in all directions and I saw Sam tear into the two shifters standing over Rachel and Chris. There was no time to congratulate myself on a job well done, because the shifters still under Danielle’s control swarmed over me like locusts. I struggled, instinctively reaching for my own allure. I let it wrap around me like an expensive perfume and I felt the dragons clutching at me hesitate, their grip slackening. Danielle screamed something unintelligible and my influence was swatted aside like a fly. She reclaimed their will with a sharpness that had two of them crying out while a third dropped to his knees and clutched his head.

  I tried again, this time honing the familiar magic, letting it build. My scent was a temptation, the very thought of me the purest ecstasy. I let desire build, spread like wildfire, and suddenly hands that had been cruel and unyielding became gentle, reverent. I felt Danielle retreat and in a moment of pure naiveté I thought she had given up. But when she came back a third time, she did so with a vengeance. Only this time she didn’t aim for the dragons, but for me. I felt her pushing against my mind, weighing my power, and I shoved back.

  It was like cracking my skull against a brick wall and expecting it to move, but I gritted my teeth and held on. A spark came to life in my womb, but I forced myself to ignore it. Not to give in. I couldn’t have her knowing about the baby. Considering how tightly our magic was currently intertwined there was no way she would miss a third participant or where they had come from.

  My head began to ache as if someone had driven a knife through my temple and I felt a blood vessel burst in my eye from the strain. The pain of it was too much and with a helpless gasp I succumbed to her. Her magic swamped me, crushed me into nothing and the world went dark beneath its cruel weight.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When I opened my eyes again, I was tied to a stake in the ground. A quick toe wiggle informed me that the glass slippers had been taken. Which meant that when Danielle looked down at me, hands folded at the small of her back, she knew exactly who I was and what she planned on doing to me. What love I had left for her began to die in slow increments.

  There was no sun in the world we stood in, only a moon sitting low at either end of the horizon. Like two eyes watching what went on below. The land around me was barren and black with decay. With the ground under me so freezing cold it put me in mind of a frostbitten limb. All around me were shadows. They were so thick that I could barely see a hundred yards in any direction. There were no stars and everything was cast in an eerie red light that had me shaking as if I were cold.

  “Where are we?” my voice came out a whisper. I was too scared to feign bravery. There were eyes in the darkness. Teeth, hunger, and I knew that they were all waiting anxiously for blood to spill. Danielle waved the point of the knife about in a display of indifference.

  “The fifth level or so I believe. It’s hard to keep track when you’re new here.”

  Pulling a vial from the pockets of her dress she showed it to me, turning it this way and that so that the magic inside of it glinted in the red air. “Do you know what this is?”

  The side of the vial read ‘Wicked’ and I shook my head, ignorant of its meaning or purpose.

  “It’s the curse currently holding our people in check.” She told me with a smile, blackened husks of teeth like insects dangling in her mouth. “Because of this curse none of us have access to our true power any longer. What makes it so ingenious is that no one can break it but a Widow in her prime.”
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  She dropped it and I flinched, expecting the glass to shatter. The make of the glass was so thin that it should have at least cracked once it struck the jagged rocks below, but that wasn’t the case. Instead it simply bounced and rolled to one side. Unharmed and unimpressed.

  “See?” Danielle said, obviously disgusted. “This is what comes of dealing with witches and dragons. Eternal servitude.”

  “Ma.” My voice was shaking and I didn’t bother trying to hide it. Considering what she obviously planned on doing to me, anything that could possibly remind her of who I was could work in my favor. “What’s going on?” My shoulders were beginning to ache and I tugged experimentally at the leather tong keeping them connected to the metal post above my head. My ankles were bound in a similar fashion and I bucked uselessly in an attempt to free myself.

  “What is all of this?”

  “I’m just setting the stage love.” She said in obvious amusement. “We’re the opening act.” She spread out her arms and bowed as if to an audience. With a rustle of sound, lights lit up the surrounding darkness and I saw that we weren’t as alone as I’d thought. Danielle and I were in the middle of a grumbling amphitheater reminiscent of the stadiums where the Gladiators used to fight. There were huge portions of rising seats that had fallen away completely to the wasteland beyond. Dead rose vines and moss climbed the surface of the cracked stones.

  Every available seat had been filled with silent watchers. They sat in black robes, their features hidden behind blank white masks. I was reminded painfully of theatre and stage that Seraphim first used to communicate with me. Back then the players on stage had worn masks as well to play out the events of my life in perfect harmony. The last time I’d seen those players, I’d had to choose amongst them to decide where my fate lay.

  Even now, it didn’t take me long to find the players from back then placed randomly throughout the crowd. They were the only ones wearing masks that weren’t animalistic in nature, though that didn’t make me feel any better about seeing them. I saw my doppelganger perched in a seat closest to the main arena and I flinched away when she grinned maliciously at me. Her teeth too white and sharp in the red light. In a way it was almost fitting that things end where all the trouble had begun in the first place.

  “What are they?” I asked, feeling strangely void of emotion.

  Danielle raised an eyebrow as if surprised by me. “Demons dear. They’ve been working a long time towards this day. We all have.”

  She went to her knees beside me and I shuddered at the sight of the loose skin hanging from her frail bones, age spotted and riddled with veins. Her breath stank of death, and one of her eyes had turned milky with cataracts. It was nearly impossible trying to compare this strange, imp-like creature, with my mother.

  “Once I’m fully restored, I’ll be able to break our curse.”

  “Your curse.” I shook my head. “Not ours.”

  Her lips tightened.

  “You’re A Widow whether you like it or not Alex. You chose this life.”

  “I chose to accept who I am.” I told her. “And who I am is nothing like what you are.” I strained against my bonds. “Exhibit A: I don’t kill what I love.”

  And that was really the crux of the problem. The aspect about my mother that I don’t think even she realized. All of her husbands, all of the deaths that had occurred to classify as a widow, they all had one thing in common.

  She’d loved them.

  Just not enough to choose them over her own vanity and power.

  She didn’t have to live like this. If she’d accepted the loss of her magic back when this had all first come to pass she would have been able to live, love, age, and die like any other woman. But it hadn’t been enough for her. Nothing had ever been enough. Not even Alex. At her words Danielle flinched back as if she been struck and her face paled.

  “I’m not a monster, Alex.” She said softly. “But I can be monstrous. If given proper motivation.” She looked up and I had to crane my neck to get a glimpse of what she was looking at. It was Rachel and Chris. They were being dragged into the center of the stage along with me. Chris looked as if he’d come out of the wrong end of a fight while Rachel was unconscious. Her nose was bloodied and the demon who carried her, had blood splattered across the front of his mask. I met Chris’s eyes and his expression was one of agony, defeat.

  “They don’t have anything to do with this.” I said hoarsely.

  Danielle shrugged. “Maybe not. But they’ve made things more difficult than they have to be for me.” She pointed at Chris and the demon grabbed him by the hair and forced him to his knees. One of his eyes was swollen shut but that didn’t stop him from glaring daggers at Danielle.

  “This one.” She said, voice ripe with disgust. “Has something that belongs to me. A certain stone. Since he seems reluctant to tell me where it is however I no longer have any use for him. While that one—” A quick jab of her nail in Rachel’s direction. “Just pisses me off.”

  I didn’t see Sam anywhere but that didn’t mean that he was all right. It could simply be that the demons were already toying with him.

  “What do you want?” She had to want something. Why bring them here, present them before me like sacrifices, if she would get nothing out of it? What could I possibly offer her that she couldn’t use force to get from me?

  “I want you to make the roses bloom.”

  My breath escaped in a rush.

  “What?”

  She pointed towards the seats where the demons still sat immobile and once more I noticed the dead vines crawling along the surface of the walls and bench seating.

  “Bring them to life.” She said. “I know you can Alex. Make them bloom and I’ll let them live.”

  “Even Sam?”

  Her eyes darkened.

  “Your fiancé is on one of the lower levels. Las I saw, some of his beloved clutchmates were flaying him alive.”

  She must mean the dragons she’d influenced back at the village. If they were torturing Sam then they were doing so under her orders. Which meant that there would be no convincing her to let him go.

  My heart ached and I forced back tears as panic tried to seize my thoughts.

  Sam was so much stronger than me.

  He’d be all right. He had to be.

  “And me?”

  Her smile was almost sad.

  “I have plans for you dear. I need your heart. The heart of a full-fledged Widow.” She inhaled shakily and her cheeks flushed, eyes dancing with what looked very much like hunger.

  “All of this,” I began, outraged. “All of this for a goddamned flower? I’m not playing this game with you.” I snapped.

  She winced slightly. “Language dear.” She said absently as she got to her feet. Going over towards Rachel’s limp form she motioned for the demon to hold her upright. “Did you hear?” She asked Rachel, as if the other woman could answer her. “She says she isn’t going to play with me. Let’s see if we can change her mind about that. Hm?”

  Then she drove her fist into Rachel’s chest.

  I screamed and the demon released her. No longer needing to keep her upright. My mother’s hair lifted on the wind of her own power and Rachel’s body froze. Her nerve endings responding to the pain even if her conscious mind couldn’t. Her skin lit up and from where I lay I could see vines began to dance under Rachel’s skin. She began to fade right before my eyes and Chris lunged for her as her dark hair began to gray one curl at a time.

  Meanwhile my mother was only growing younger. More vibrant. Her familiar sea green eyes shone with good humor and her strawberry blond hair was once more a thing of envy. She looked so peaceful in that moment, so vibrant, that it was like she was picking flowers instead of trying to drag my best friend’s heart out of her chest.

  Chris was struggling against his captor. For a split second he managed to break free but the demon twisted and darted in front of him again. He was wearing a bird mask, the black eyes on either side o
f the twisted beak were the size of dinner plates. As the demon faced off with Chris the mask, which I’d thought to be an object separate from the demon itself, opened its beak and crowed. There were fangs in the endless cavern of its mouth and a forked tongue like a serpent. The dark holes of his eyes began to glow, solitary pinpoints of red that there was evil hidden there, just beneath the surface.

  Chris jerked to a halt, his eyes narrowing and his body lowering. Primed for attack. He growled at the demon blocking his way and the stone against my throat began to warm. I glanced down in alarm, feeling its glow increase. It built in tandem with the heat growing in my belly and I strained. Desperate to control it. To hide it. I couldn’t let her know about the baby. I couldn’t give her yet another weapon to use against me. Which meant that I was choosing. Choosing one life over another. Choosing one thread over another. One fate.

  Could I really do that? Did I have the right? Did anybody? Rachel and Chris couldn’t die. The fates had been adamant about the damage their deaths would cause. In comparison, my baby was a miscalculation. A mistake. In the grand scheme of things, it should have been easy enough to choose between them.

  But it wasn’t.

  As the power built and built and in that breathless moment, as my unborn strove to protect itself, I suddenly remembered what my mother had been drilling into me for months now.

  “Life is held within the earth.” I intoned. “It is mother. It is father. It is the cradle and the grave.”

  What was so different between what I felt for my child, and what the earth felt for me? For a moment, I imagined it. I imagined myself as the ground beneath my back, the sulfurous air above my head. I imagined myself not as some ambivalent being, but as the mother I was. I held life in me. Life I had to protect. Life that struggled to protect itself no matter the consequences. In that moment of imagining, I somehow lost myself. For a moment, I was the earth and the growing things. I could feel the connection. A great web stretching for an infinity. Each piece affecting another and building off of itself to form a solid whole. Like the tapestry the fates wove day and night.