Fractured Fairy Tales

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Fractured Fairy Tales Page 17

by Catherine Stovall

“Perhaps that is because, although I made you younger and by far nicer to look upon than you were, you’re nothing more than a whore out on display awaiting a good bedding.”

  She gasped as Maleficent took a step forward, a step closer.

  “Perhaps all that you’d hoped this would be is nothing more than a tup in the hay for him? Trust me, the best laid plans and all that, and yours wasn’t even well planned.”

  Sela wished she could feel nothing but hatred and jealousy again. She wanted to go back to feeling no emotion so that she wouldn’t feel the pain at what had occurred. Sela’s eyes squeezed shut, the darkness doing nothing to ban the words from looping across her mind’s eye.

  Before she could respond, the door to the room slammed open. The crash of wood against stone caused her eyes to fly open again and she turned to look at who had entered to witness her treacherous bargain in the midst of being completed. It was him, her knight. His name didn’t matter, they would have time to discuss that. She simply needed to convince him to allow Maleficent to leave.

  The man’s deep voice shouted at her and her eyes locked on his. Standing in the doorway; the armor gleaming, his hair tussled and the look of something akin to protection in his eye was all it took to wash out the evil that had begun to creep in.

  “Lady Sela! Get back, it is Maleficent!”

  She didn’t know where he had procured a sword from, but one glittered in his hands as he held it in front of his face, point tipped at Maleficent.

  “Gaurds!”

  Sela felt as if her blood ran cold at the sound of the knight’s voice. Her eyes darted back and forth between him and Maleficent. She could see the hatred pouring from every muscle in the knight’s body and could hear the footsteps of more guards coming to aide his call. She felt dizzy, her throat was dry and felt as if long, tendrils were wrapped around her neck, crushing her windpipe and turning her vision black.

  “Take your hands off her you witch. Do it, or I’ll kill you again!” her brave knight’s voice cut through the haze.

  Raising her hands to her neck, she found that there were indeed fingers wrapped around her throat—fingers that should not be able to do that. Maleficent is nothing more than a spirit with some magic juice. How had she manifested a hold on anything?

  A laugh. Maleficent’s throaty laugh slithered past her thoughts, deep and loud, as her fingers slowly uncurled from Sela’s neck. She shoved her, tossing her body straight into the knight’s.

  “Didn’t think I could do that did you, little fairy? Well that’s why you shouldn’t play around with magic you don’t understand.” A lime green smoke rose from the floor, it twisted and curled around the enchantress like a snake getting ready to strike. “There’s much more to raising a spirit than simply letting them out.” Her hand shot out and a flicker of current traveled from the tip of her black nail straight into Sela’s stomach.

  She doubled over in pain and felt the man pull her upright. The man, the knight, that’s who it all had been for. They’d vanquished her before, surely they could do it again. She wrapped her fingers around his forearm, as much of it as she could at least. His eyes met hers and the fierce anger didn’t radiate from them. Instead, they softened as he looked at her and his mouth had a small smile on it.

  “Lady Sela. You’re hurt. Do not move. We have taken her down before and will again. I promise you.”

  Hope and light shined out of his eyes and she wanted to trust him, to believe that just once there would be someone in her life looking out for her. She hadn’t felt the pain in her stomach, didn’t want to tell him that though. Moments like this were what knights were for.

  “I trust you. But, what is your name?”

  Alric couldn’t break his gaze from Sela’s. He heard the shout as Timothy and two others entered into his bedchambers and saw the witch. He shouldn’t be t asking right now. His hand should be doing more than holding onto a helpless female, but he didn’t want to be. Her question was so strange at first, and then he realized what he’d done. He’d almost bedded a woman without even introducing himself.

  “Alric, my lady. And after we have had the pleasure of dispatching this vile creature, I promise you there will be plenty more to know of me.” His voice held a promise and his lips pressed against hers. They didn’t linger for longer than a moment, but it was enough to set his body on fire.

  A sharp shout drew him away from Sela and back to the danger in the room. Marcus lay on the floor, his body smoking and tiny green flames licking up and down his torso. The screaming grew worse, and Alric watched in horror as the other guard rolled, trying to cease the flames or perhaps end the pain. Without warning, the flames erupted and the screams that Alric heard would forever haunt him.

  Grabbing his sword off the floor where he had dropped it to face Maleficent, he rotated it around in his hand. “Enough! It’s time for you to stay dead.” He didn’t think, just ran headlong, sword extended, towards her. The jarring pain that ran up his arm as the sword crashed into the wall stunned him.

  “My aren’t we full of hubris, human? It is no matter. I will do away with all of you.”

  “But we had a deal! You weren’t to harm any here!”

  Sela’s voice knocked him sideways. A deal? He struggled to pull the tip of the sword from the stone wall and turned. Sela was standing, her fingers flickering ever so lightly with yellow sparks. There was nothing he could do. Something was amiss with the two women and he would see about Sela’s role in it all once Maleficent was returned to the grave.

  “Yes, well, like I said, the best laid plans.” The laughter filled his ears, almost blocking out the sounds of agony that the remaining two guards were causing. He wasn’t on fire though. In fact, he was completely fine.

  Resituating the sword, he lunged for Maleficent again, the blade slicing clean through. Clean through nothing but air. She turned and her smile was pure evil, her eyes reflected the green flames flickering in their center.

  “Your little maiden there forgot to mention a few details, didn’t she?”

  “Leave Lady Sela out of this, witch. She has nothing to do with this. Your magic clearly extended farther than we knew.” His words held all the conviction he could muster. Lady Sela had to be innocent. Or is she? Could that be the reason for the attraction?

  Before he knew what had happened, he felt his body lift off the ground. He hung, suspended in the middle of the room for a second, and then, Maleficent threw his body headfirst into the stone wall as if he weighed nothing.

  Chapter 6

  The scream tore from her throat. Her eyes blurred as she watched Alric’s body slide down the wall. She raced over to him, not bothering to dodge the flames flickering over the charred bodies on the floor. The burn of fire grazed the soles of her feet with every step, but she didn’t stop until she reached Alric.

  Sela dropped to the floor and picked his head up. His body was limp, and she could feel the warm stickiness of blood matting his beautiful hair under her fingers. Tears, hot as the fire in the room, slid down her face. Her eyes frantically roamed over his body, looking for a sign of life,something that would let her know he was only injured.

  She found nothing.

  There was no life left in her knight. Alric’s eyes were locked in a look of confusion, and his chest didn’t rise and fall with even the smallest of breaths. Maleficent had taken him from her, she’d broken the bargain and was walking towards the door.

  Fury gripped Sela as she gently lay Alric down, praying that the flames would not consume his body. Sparks of magic danced around her, she didn’t have control over it. There had never been anyone around to teach her not to go off like a ticking time bomb when she was angry, and she knew how to be angry.

  The sparks jumped off her and landed here and there amongst the things in the room. She wasn’t concerned. There was nothing left to save anyway. She raised her hand and pictured a long stream of magic pouring into the enchantress’s back, but as Alric’s sword had, it went right through. So Sel
a tried again. She heard a grunt and a thud and for a moment she realized, she must have hit another guard that had joined the fight, but she couldn’t see with her eyes closed.

  “Maleficent! Stop!” Prince Philip’s voice boomed in the hallway, and Sela stopped as well. He wasn’t the helpless young boy anymore. He was a man who had slain a dragon for love, and it had changed him.

  “Do you think you can stop me? I’m dead. dear Philip. Dead and raised and nothing can harm a spirit once it’s been untethered from the one who summoned it.”

  “Who would do such a thing?” Philip sounded incredulous, and the weight of Sela’s actions slowly began to sink in and weigh her down.

  What have I done? Her magic continued to spark around her as she closed the distance between herself and the other two. “I did your majesty,” her voice was strong, laced with the anger reserved only for Maleficent.

  “Then you’re as guilty as she and will be tried. I told Alric not to touch you when we found you laying there.”

  His words were venomous and she gasped. He was right. It was her fault that Alric was dead. Her stupid desire for someone to care about her had gotten him killed.

  “It was an accident,” Sela’s voice was so low she doubted anyone would have heard it.

  A streak of green fire danced in front of Philip and she heard the prince growl.

  “To be fair, the little fairy really didn’t know I was untrustworthy. Pathetic really, the things people do for love.” Maleficent lashed out with her hand and Sela heard Philip gasp as the green flames tore through the fabric of his cloak. He hadn’t bothered to dress for battle, had only come running to save his men. Something that could get him killed.

  “Stand down Maleficent. I won’t ask you again.” Philip’s voice didn’t waiver.

  Sela prayed he could do something, but she knew that without her sisters and without magic, there honestly was nothing that could undo a risen spirit.

  “Really, Philip, this is getting tiring.” The enchantress raised a hand, and with it, Philip lifted off the floor. “It’s not nearly as poetic as you slaying a dragon, but it will have to do.”

  Sela, merely a few steps behind Maleficent, shot her own hand out and grabbed the witch. Her hand slid through the spiritual form, in fact, she was almost standing inside of the spirit itself.

  “Time to die, Prince Philip,” the sneer in her voice was prevalent as she moved to aim him at the wall.

  Sela heard Aurora’s voice shouting at them, and Maleficent paused as the princess ran up to them, a crew of guards at her flank and Flora, Fauna and Merryweather flying slightly ahead of her, something round in their hands.

  “Ahh much more than I could have hoped for. Not only can your watch your beloved die as poor little Sela did, but now I don’t have to go through any trouble tracking you down.”

  Philip’s body flew toward the far wall, just as a shattering sound snapped Sela from her trance. Instead of crashing headfirst into a wall, the prince’s body had taken the impact, and he had crumpled to the floor.

  “No! It cannot be!” Maleficent dove for a shiny piece of green glass on the floor nearest to her. “You cannot have done this! Only a fool would have smashed that orb. The power it held—”

  Aurora’s voice was cold as she cut her off, “The power plenty strong enough to send you back to your grave in one sense or another.” The news shocked Sela. The book had mentioned a source of power could trap a released spirit. But she had never thought it would be as simple as her own power source.

  Maleficent clutched at the tiny pieces of glass. “But how? Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” She went to rise and aimed a bolt of green fire where Aurora hung over Philip. Sela watched, stunned, as her sisters flew in front of the royal couple, holding a large chunk of the orb.

  The fire bounced as if hitting a wall and set a tapestry ablaze.

  “We bind you, Maleficent. We bind your spirit to what was once your source of power. Forever to remain within the glass, looking out, but never getting out,” her sisters’ voices chanted as one.

  A surge of wind kicked up around her and Maleficent. Sela scrambled to break out of the spirit, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t seem to pull her way out, it was as if she stuck inside. Panic grabbed at her and she flung her hands, but the magic wasn’t as strong without the wand to channel it, and she wasn’t able to anchor onto anything.

  She felt the floor move under her. Her eyes dropped to watch as she was lifted, along with Maleficent, towards her sisters. “Sisters! Sisters stop this. Please help me. All I wanted was a chance.”

  Flora shook her head and sighed. “Sela, you don’t play with what you don’t understand. You summoned her, you released, you’re her anchor. You will go where she goes.” Her sister almost looked displeased, but none of the three made a move to help her or to stop it as her body moved toward the glass with Maleficent screaming so loudly she felt she might go deaf.

  Then, it was all done. Confused, Sela spun around. She was looking straight at Maleficent, whose eyes burned with rage.

  “You, you insolent, incompetent little fairy! This is all your fault!” A streak of flames whizzed past and bounced off a wall Sela hadn’t even seen.

  Her eyes widened at what she saw. Her sister’s eyes were gigantic and Prince Philip stood behind her. They looked enormous, they were enormous.

  “We’re trapped,” her voice was laced with defeat as she put her hand up the glass. She had no energy to do anything except let it squeak down. How can it be possible? Why had the book not spoken of such a possibility? “Now you get it. Trapped with a pathetic excuse for a fairy, and I can’t even hurt you because we’re linked together!”

  The rant didn’t even reach Sela’s ears. She was too busy listening to the garbled words outside her prison.

  “There’s nothing that can be done. She made her path when she chose to raise Maleficent’s spirit. I don’t think it matters what her reasons were. They’re tied together and when she stood within the spirit, she sealed her fate completely,” Fauna’s voice held real sorrow and Sela almost got caught up on that more so than the words her sister spoke.

  “Fauna, we must put this away. Lock it up somewhere,” Merryweather sounded her usual panicked self.

  “Let me take it. Please. I can have a blacksmith fashion it into a pendant. I want it with me. I want to know this evil can never seek the light of day again.”

  Aurora’s words shocked Sela, but she couldn’t blame the princess.

  “So be it then.” Fauna looked into Sela’s eyes again. “We should have been better to you, we could have prevented this.” With small tears in her eyes, Fauna passed the glass holding her and Maleficent to Prince Philip, who thankfully appeared uninjured.

  Tears streaked down her face. She was numb, utterly and completely frozen in horror at what she had done. Alric was dead, and yet she couldn’t even bring herself to feel pain in that. It was over. She had unleashed a monster, and now fate had her sealed up with the very thing that she had intended to free.

  Philip’s hand closed over the glass containing them, blocking their vision and silencing Sela’s mind forever to anything but thoughts of what she had done and Maleficent’s empty threats.

  The Singing Bones

  *This story is written in UK English*

  Sinead MacDughlas

  I’ve never been one to believe in magic, not the wizards and dragons type anyway. For me, enchantment is found in the small miracles of life; in the blooming of flowers and the appearance of a rainbow; in the laughter of a child, or the flight of a hummingbird. Most of all, for me, music is magic.

  Have you ever done something impulsive, something seemingly innocuous, which changed everything you thought you knew? I bought something at a flea market. That’s it.

    

  I didn’t even want to go, but one of my colleagues dragged me out, insisting that I must do more than work and sleep. That was easy enough for Petra to say. She was born with a bow in
her hand and a Stradivarius tucked under her chin. Literally. Her parents fell in love in the pit of a Broadway musical for cripe’s sake! That was before they gained tenure with the orchestra, and her father became a first chair violinist. Her mother had been second chair until she retired.

  Petra didn’t need to practice her instrument every waking moment. She’d glided into third chair as easily as a swan glides through water, while I was more like a dog, paddling for all I was worth just to keep my head up. There was never any doubt that Petra would get tenure. I just prayed that I could cling to fourth chair flutist.

  It was hard to be jealous of Petra, though. She was so full of joy for the music, as well as life. When she burst in, flashing that brilliant smile of hers and fluttering her lashes, insisting that I join her on a field trip, I conceded with only a little grumbling.

    

  “Isn’t this adorable?” Her voice cut through the crowd at a pitch that could likely summon every dog within earshot. It was impossible to pretend I didn’t know her while her dainty arm was hooked through mine in visible sisterhood.

  She released my arm to pluck her find out of a box of clothing. “This” was a T-shirt bearing the slogan Mozart Lives and a tragic drawing of the great composer in a white, spangled jumpsuit.

  “Please tell me you’re not buying that.” I rolled my eyes at her.

  “Why not? It’s so fun!”

  “It’s appalling.”

  I almost laughed as she pouted and tossed her red curls.

  “Well, I think it’s fabulous, and I’m buying it.” She handed the man tending the stall five dollars for the T-shirt, and guided me to the next stall. This one was crowded with old furniture.

  “I need a coffee,” she announced, suddenly. “Keep looking, Cynical Cindy. Maybe you’ll find something old and creepy that will capture your twisted heart.”

  I laughed at her back as she glided off toward the snack stand. It was a standing joke between us. To Petra, I was Cynical Cindy, and when I teased her, I called her Perky Petra. It should have been impossible for us to share a living space, but being polar opposites actually made us the best of friends, as well as compatible roommates.

 

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