Tasting Gretel

by Lidiya Foxglove

  “I can’t speak of the curse. That is the first rule of curses, Gretel.” He shut his eyes for a moment, and pulled back from me. “The King of the Wicked Revels is supposed to tease out one’s hidden desires. Not force something unwanted. If this is too much for you and you want to go, Gretel, you may go.”

  “I don’t want to go!”

  He laughed dryly. “You really don’t, do you? You are truly my match. You don’t shrink from anything I do to you.”

  “Do I have to go? Did I ruin everything?”

  “Maybe not. I can attempt to dispel the energy. Wait here.”

  “Right here?” I squirmed in my bonds.

  “You deserve a little punishment, don’t you think? I will be back soon.”

  “How soon?”

  He walked out the door without answering me.

  Chapter Eight

  The Magus

  I had been a dead man for almost three years now, but before I stalked out the door, I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror and saw a little color in my cheeks.

  She could bring me back to life.

  But my situation was brutal and impossible. Aramy should have known better than to treat with such a man as the Trickster Mage. Night after night, I ran that fateful morning over in my mind.

  Please, my lord, can you hear me? You’re alive. Thank the gods. Aramy’s voice had reached through the fog. I woke from the worst dream of my life, and then I realized that maybe it wasn’t a dream.

  His relief matched my dread. I was dead, I said. Will killed me. I’m sure of it. I could still feel the knife in my back. What did you do?

  I asked the Trickster Mage for a favor, my lord. He pulled you back from the brink of the underworld.

  What? What have you done? The Trickster never offers a good bargain.

  My first born. Aramy had laughed. First born? At my age? The joke’s on him. Now, there is a stipulation, but at least you have time. You must join with a girl who loves you as you love her within three years.

  So I have to live in this world where my position has been usurped by a human?

  My lord, the kingdom still needs you. Many are loyal to you, even though they’re quiet now. Be patient and you might have your throne back. I was already planning to retire, help my brother out with the flour mill. I’ll show you how to make the confections for the Wicked Revels.

  Until now, I wished my loyal baker had left me for dead. As soon as I returned to the Wicked Revels, I had to see my rival on my throne, and when he condemned me not to a touch a woman for three years, I knew that the Trickster Mage had foreseen this all along.

  But I had Gretel now.

  Since I lost my throne, my thoughts had been consumed by bitterness, but now they were consumed with thoughts of her face. When we parted for each night, I could hardly wait for the next day, to work alongside her. I had never dreamed of taking on a trade, but Gretel was born to put her mind and hands to work. She loved to make humble things beautiful. Her face was aglow when she iced a cake. In this, we were different.

  But in other matters, we were the same. For years now, I had been leading human girls to the Wicked Revels, but I had never met one like Gretel. I realized now why I had always failed to seal the deal with girls in the past. The others could never keep up with me. To other humans, sex was a pleasure and a shame, but to Gretel, it was an art and a way of life, a journey into the depths of her psyche. I could tell she liked that it was never far from her mind, that she was in a constant state of being stirred. She would have been able to handle this agonizing tease, I thought, if only I could assure her this exquisite torture had a proper end. What made her weak this morning was that I couldn’t promise anything.

  I had to promise she would be mine at the end of it all, and I had to fulfill that promise.

  First things first.

  The magical energy of our climax this morning would be something any King of the Revels would sense, even that damned human Will. I had to cleanse the house before anyone picked up on it, or my game would be exposed. Will would search the house, find Gretel, and take her from me.

  I walked as briskly down the forest paths as I could without breaking into a run, all the way to Marte’s cottage, and pounded on the door.

  Marte was one I could still trust. She had criticized my handling of the Revels quite a few times, but she also had little love for humans.

  Her house was built into a hollow hill, the windows cut into the grass. The door creaked open. “And what brings you here to see me, Sir Magus?”

  Coming from my own people, the title chafed. They gave me some honor by calling me a Magus and not merely a baker, but once, I was “your highness” and “your majesty”. Of course, I was the one who I refused to be called by my name. I had always been a man with a title, not a name. “I need a dispelling spell.”

  “Dispelling spell?” She hissed out the “s” sounds with amusement. “Aramy says you have a lady with you.”

  “Aramy would probably do well not to talk about my business,” I growled.

  “Indeed. Trust is one of his faults. We know that. The lad made some sort of bargain to get you back, after all!” She laughed. Aramy was no lad at ninety years old, but Marte was older still. She waved me in and glanced at my hand. “Do you need healing balm as well? You must have touched something you oughtn’t. Any other…appendages that need attending?”

  “No.” I was not in the mood for Marte’s sense of humor. “The girl was the one who failed to stick to the terms of my sentence.”

  “Well…” Marte glanced me over. “That, I can believe. If you decided you had a taste for old women, I would not stick to the terms either.”

  Damnit, she almost got a chuckle out of me. “Just give me the spell.” Following her through the dim rooms, I had to hastily duck not to hit my head on a beam.

  “I have something else you might make use of. Well, well, I haven’t used this one in a while.” I didn’t really want to think about the zest in her tone when she said this. It was obvious that when Marte said “used” she didn’t mean “gave to someone else”. She pulled a bottle off a cluttered shelf, brushing cobwebs away with her hand. “This gives your lover more stamina.”

  “As in…?”

  “It will take much longer, and much more intense stimulation, for her to climax. No more accidents, hm? This is important. You can’t have Will sensing what you’re up to before your sentence is over, can you?”

  “No…”

  “I hear talk, Magus,” she said. “The people would kill for a taste of those cakes and sweets of yours, you know.” Her eyes twinkled. “They might kill any man who would take you away from them, too. Perhaps it’s good for every king to take a stint as an artisan.”

  “Perhaps,” I said, with a small bow. She was giving me a signal. She would support me if I took back the throne. She felt I had learned my lesson. I was the only one who could give my people what they needed.

  Time was running short. I had to hope that the magic infused within the cakes was working on my people, and even the ones who had once rebelled against me would support me now. I could only join with Gretel unless Will was out of the way, with his own inherited magic broken. It was hard not to feel pessimistic. I couldn’t tell anyone the exact nature of the curse. Even Marte had no idea how dire my situation really was.

  Despite it all, I could not suppress a thrill of anticipation when I took the spell. If what Marte said was true, I could up the ante with Gretel, and my magic would grow stronger still. She would scream, she would writhe, she would beg me for mercy, but I knew she would never tell me to stop.

  Chapter Nine

  Gretel

  I was in unbearable anticipation for his return, my legs spread and waiting for him. I was never in pain when I was bound by him; some magic was certainly at work. The faery world seemed to have so many tricks for making my wildest fantasies come true; not just that I was tied up by a beautiful man, but that I could withstand it for so long. I fel
t sure that if I was back in the human world, this would not feel so delicious. But what did I care for the human world anymore?

  When I heard the door unlock and open, I strained at my bonds. But then my stomach dropped. I knew the Magus’ footsteps. This was a stranger. And here I was, naked and spread and wet.

  “Please,” I whispered to the wooden restraints. “Please let me go!” I tugged at them. The whole rack rattled. I managed to jiggle my arms and legs down into a slightly less prone position and that was the best I could do.

  “Magus…?” An unfamiliar male voice sang out the word through the doorway before he appeared. I heard the tap of a cane—or a magical staff, in fact, as he entered the room.

  A goblin.

  I had never seen a goblin up close. They never came through Aupenburg. Some goblins liked to trade with humans, and others stole things, but our village was too poor for either kind to bother.

  He was every bit as alarming as I could imagine, a rangy figure with impressively clawed hands. I could barely see his eyes through a tangle of thick black hair that brushed his shoulders, but that made his fearsome teeth all the more visible. He had two black horns reaching straight up from his head, shaped almost like the perked ears of a wolf.

  “Well, well…what have we here?” he asked, in a slightly raspy voice. “The Magus appears to be doing well for himself. A flaxen-haired beauty hung up to dry… Something to eat over the winter?”

  “N-no,” I sputtered. I had no idea if he was joking. He poked me with the tip of his wooden staff and tears sprang to my eyes. My instincts had told me I could trust the Magus from my first sight of him. They were telling me the opposite now. “Please—he’ll be back any moment.”

  “Don’t worry a hair on your head. I don’t bother with this sort of thing.” He flicked a dismissive hand at my naked body. “Nothing makes men weak like love, does it?” He plucked a freshly baked pastry off the counter and popped it in his mouth. “Mm-hm,” he said, an approving critique.

  “Then what are you here for?”

  “He only has four weeks left, your Magus.”

  “Four weeks of the three years of his sentence?”

  “Four weeks of the three years of my curse.”

  “You’re—“

  “The Trickster Mage, they call me.” He grinned at me, and I could only see the faint glint of one eye through his hair. He ate another pastry. “And as Mages go, I’m one of the best. I brought him back to life, did he tell you that?”

  “No…”

  “No, he can’t, can he? Those were part of my terms. I don’t really like to spread the word that I bring people back from the dead.”

  He frightened me, this strange mage. Maybe this was how Hansel felt around my Magus. I was in the presence of something I didn’t really understand, but this was the ugly goblin who had placed the curse, that was clear. He must have come for a reason. “Sir…Trickster Mage, please…is there any way I can break your curse?”

  “You could give me your firstborn child.”

  “No!” I said reflexively. Any happiness the Magus and I might find would be short lived if we had to give away our first child.

  “You could guess my name.”

  “Guess your name?”

  “I’ll give you three chances.”

  “But…I haven't the slightest idea.”

  He shrugged his slender shoulders. He was wearing a loose patchwork coat that fell almost to the tops of his tall black boots, and no shirt beneath it, just pale skin with a few scars, and several pendants hanging around his neck. “Not even a guess?”

  “Uh…Jack?”

  He laughed. “No.”

  “Puck?”

  “No.”

  “Robin?”

  He laughed. “I have heard worse attempts. But, no. Shall I tell you my bargain with the Magus? You won’t be able to tell anyone else, but perhaps you will reconsider what you’re willing to sacrifice.”

  “I’m not giving you any of my children,” I said. “Maybe you had better just leave.” Even if he wasn’t interested in me, I didn’t like unsettling company, especially in this state.

  “She tries to hide her fear,” he murmured. “And I admire the effort. Your Magus must join with someone who loves him by Samhain night, you know. I thought it was a pretty easy thing to ask of a man so charming…”

  But he can’t touch anyone. It was immediately clear to me what the Magus meant by a sentence and a curse. Will sentenced him not to touch anyone for three years. The Trickster Mage cursed him so that he had to touch someone within three years.

  And he can’t tell Will what his curse is…

  “I suppose I can leave you to ponder that,” the Trickster Mage said. “I will leave you be. But do tell him I stopped by.”

  “I will.” I bowed my head in good-bye, and he left, thank heavens.

  The Magus returned a little later, and he seemed pleased. He put two bottles on the work table and opened a tall one with a slender neck. A plume of smoke emerged from the opening and he carried the bottle around the room, cutting his wand through the smoky ribbon to disperse the magic.

  “So you got the spell?” I asked.

  “Yes, my dear. A truly astute king might sense around it, which is why we must not make any more mistakes, but Will is green.”

  By now, I’d had a little time to consider this curse. “Do you truly want to deceive Will?”

  He lifted a brow. “I must, Gretel. Otherwise he would send me away.”

  “I just wonder if…Will could be obliged to lift your sentence early.”

  “I have no interested in begging to Will.”

  “I understand that you’re proud, but you did admit yourself that you made mistakes as king. And I can’t help but wonder if—”

  “If?” He walked up close to me. He smelled, faintly, of magic. I’m not sure I had ever smelled magic before, but I knew it: smoky and green, like every season at once.

  I held my ground, despite my compromising position, meeting his eyes. “Can you please set me free so we can talk?”

  “No, I’d like to hear this right away.”

  “Have you ever tried to talk to Will?”

  “Talking is impossible. Will despises me and I despise him.”

  “You’re manipulating Will and the Revelers again,” I said. “Using magic that comes from me to win back their favor.” I struggled against my shackles. “I’ve never seen the Revels. I don’t know what they were like when you were king, and I don’t know what they’re like now. But you’re banned from them too. Is it possible that Will isn’t such a terrible king at all, and this is just a misunderstanding?”

  He paused. As well as we got along, we had never argued. I expected him to dismiss my suggestion, as Hansel would. I braced for a fight. I could feel my stomach muscles clenching up with dread.

  But the Magus was as cool as Hansel was hot-tempered. “I don’t want to make the same mistakes,” he said. “All I really want is you. But I’m not going to beg Will to lift my sentence. Will is ruling my people like a human king. He wants rules and order. He doesn’t understand the revels and he never will. I don’t need to see his Revels. I can guess what it’s like. They’re supposed to be the grandest party in the realm.”

  “Do you think I would understand the revels?”

  “You? Oh, yes.”

  “I’m human.”

  “You’re no ordinary human.” He paused. “Who was here?” he asked me.

  “The Trickster Mage. He told me about your curse. He told me—you will die on Samhain night if we don’t make love!”

  He took a slow breath. “I have a plan.”

  “And what is that?”

  “To usurp Will. Aramy is gathering faery clans who are loyal to me, including my nephew’s forces back in Ellurine. On Samhain night, we will run the humans out.”

  “But—“

  “I don’t want to hurt them,” he said. “I just want them to go back where they belong. And you would be
my queen, the queen of the most joyous throne in all the realm.”

  Dismay shot through me. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was really meant to be king. But I knew him as a baker. This was the life I loved. I didn’t want things to change, and maybe that was my own mistake. I wasn’t sure what to say. Something about all of this just didn’t feel right.

  He picked up a cask of the weak, sweet faery wine that we sometimes drank during the day. “You must be thirsty.” He opened the other bottle and put a drop of honey-colored liquid in the wine.

  “What is that?”

  “You don’t want to be surprised?”

  “If it’s an aphrodisiac…I really don’t need it.”

  He laughed. “No, no. If you really want to know, it makes you last longer before you climax. It will keep you safe until Samhain. And I want you to take it. There are even more things we can do, with this.”

  I could not even help wetting my lips.

  “Gretel, I swear to you…I will break the spell and make all our suffering worth it. You will be my queen and I will love you until the end of our days, in the way you deserve.” He held the cup to my lips, carefully. I drank, some of it dribbling down my chin. He grabbed his apron, which was draped on the table, and wiped it off me, sucking a little air between his teeth at the contact of his hand through layers of fabric. He had said he could not even touch me through a glove.

  “I want to do things a little differently now,” he said. “Not a moment will go by when you aren’t thinking about how much you want my cock inside you, from now until the moment I finally claim you for my own.”

  My breath hitched with desire as his words seemed to melt in my ears like chocolate melting on my tongue. If I had not been bound I think I would have had to touch his face and burn him. “Magus…that sounds no different at all.”

  “It will be different. It will be worse. Even at night, I want you to wear your panties, and I want you to sleep in my bed. And if I should hear you stir, I might just brush my wand against your pussy and change the shape a little so you are penetrated even deeper than before and you will yearn for me always. Would you like that, Gretel?”