“Have at thee, foul tree-thing!” Sir Giles slammed the fiery end of his torch straight into the tree-man’s trunk.
With a strange warbling scream, the tree-man stumbled backwards, trailing smoke and embers. It crashed into the shifting field of magical energy.
There was a horrible screeching sound, followed by a blue flash that was brighter than the sun. A smell of burnt ozone filled the stairwell.
Sir Giles lowered the arm that he had thrown in front of his face. “Well. I say. Good job, Lily.”
Lily rubbed her eyes, coughing from the drifting smoke that hung in the air. She peered up the stairwell.
The shimmering blue field of energy was gone. In front of it lay the burnt and charred corpse of the tree-man.
Sir Giles prodded the blackened remains with his foot. “Not very…traditional. But it gets the job done, I suppose.”
Ella lowered her mace. “You’re giving her credit for that? Pearls, she had no blinking idea what she was doing.”
Sir Giles retrieved his sword with a grimace. He tried his best to rub the ashes and soot off the handle of the weapon. “Come now, Ella. No need for pettiness.” He raised his weapon. “Onwards!”
Ella glared at Lily.
Lily shut her spellbook. She gave an apologetic shrug.
“Oh, my nose.” Dirk stood up. His hands were still cupped over his nose, muffling his voice. “I need healing, Ella.”
The Elf cleric strapped her shield on her back again. She glanced up at Dirk. “Yeah, that’s going to happen.”
Sir Giles led the way up the stairs.
Ella and Lily followed dutifully behind him.
Dirk just slouched against the wall and sobbed softly.
The stairs of the tower opened into a large room. There was one small, barred window, which let in a stream of moonlight. Spider-webs and dust hung heavy and thick, covering the sparse furniture. In only one place had no dust gathered.
In the direct center of the room was a large altar-like bed, draped in white silk. On it laid a beautiful young woman. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her hands folded serenely on her breast. Golden hair fell over the pillow under her head, curled and radiant. The blue dress she wore was of silk, undimmed and unfaded by the obvious passage of time around her. Her eyes were closed. She showed no signs of life.
Ella wrinkled her nose. “Is she…dead?”
Sir Giles shook his head. His eyes were fastened on the beautiful creature in front of him. “Nay, dear Ella. She but sleeps a sleep as deep as death, waiting to be awakened.”
“Is that all?” Lily pushed forward and grabbed the woman’s foot. She shook it fiercely. “Hey! Wake up.”
Sir Giles laughed. “Sweet, ignorant Lily. This maiden can only be awakened by a kiss from her true love.”
Ella closed her eyes. “Please, tell me this isn’t the reason why we climbed up all those stairs.”
Sir Giles turned with a frown. “I am a knight of the realm, fair Ella, lest you may have forgotten.”
Ella sighed. “How could I?”
If Sir Giles heard, he didn’t show it. “It is my duty to rescue those who are in peril. To defend the weak and innocent. To be the savior of those who are in evil’s grip.”
Lily peered at the sleeping woman’s face. “Especially if they’re young and beautiful, I suppose?”
Sir Giles cleared his throat. “That…is one of the benefits of the job, yes.”
Lily gave Giles a cold glance. “And I suppose that you are this woman’s true love?”
Sir Giles shuffled uncomfortably. “I…well, I suppose that I could well be.” He lowered his voice. “I think it’s the kiss that’s the really important thing.”
Lily crossed her arms. “Are we talking like a forehead kiss? Or the cheek?”
Sir Giles began to grow red in the face. “Well, I was thinking her lips, I suppose.”
Lily’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? The woman’s insensate. What if she doesn’t want to be kissed by you?”
“Not want to be kissed?” Sir Giles gestured towards the unmoving girl. “Are you suggesting this woman would rather be trapped in a death-like sleep for the rest of her life than be kissed by me?”
Ella had opened her hand mirror again and was adjusting her long hair. “I know I would.”
“It just doesn’t seem right,” Lily protested. “Anyone could come barging into this tower and…and…do all manner of unseemly things to this poor woman—”
Sir Giles straightened. “It’s a kiss, Lily. For the purpose of saving the poor woman’s life.”
Lily tapped her foot rapidly against the ground. “Oh, so you’re saying it’s a pity kiss? You don’t find her at all attractive? You have no desire to kiss her whatsoever?”
“Well, I—” Sir Giles fumbled for a moment, his mouth working without words. “I didn’t actually say that. I just—”
“I suppose,” continued Lily hotly, “that you’re just planning on kissing every beautiful girl in a sleep as deep as death that we come across? Is that your plan?”
“I—” Sir Giles turned bright red. He turned. “Ella, help me out here.”
Ella continued adjusting her curls. “Don’t drag me into this. I’m not kissing the tart.”
“No surprise,” came a gravelly voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once. “You could never be anyone’s true love, Ella.”
Lily closed her eyes with a sigh. “Dirk, what in the Seven Kingdoms are you still doing up here? You’re supposed to go help Torval, remember?”
“I go where I please,” came the voice again. “A shadow, just out of sight. A wraith that—”
“Oh please, Dirk,” said Ella without looking up from her mirror. “You’re right over there behind the dresser.”
There was a long beat of silence.
A mocking laugh floated through the room. “Am I? Am I indee—”
“Now you’re behind the couch,” said Ella.
There was another beat of silence.
Sir Giles sighed. “Come on, Dirk. Stop hiding.”
Dirk practically exploded out from behind the couch. A bloodstained piece of cloth was jammed up his right nostril. “That was a guess, admit it. You had no idea I was back there.”
Ella snapped the mirror shut. “Pearls, Dirk, I can tell where you are by your breath alone.”
“I hate to interrupt,” Sir Giles said, “but we have to save this poor girl.” He glanced back at the stairwell. “And soon, too. I am starting to think I made the wrong call about leaving Torval behind—”
“Fine,” said Lily as she turned her back. “Kiss the girl. See if I care. I hope the two of you fall in love and are desperately happy and that she bears you a whole breed of little brats that look exactly like you!”
Sir Giles looked over in confusion at Ella and mouthed a silent question.
Ella threw back her head with an exasperated sigh. “Am I really the only one here who isn’t hopelessly stupid?”
Dirk leaned over the girl. “She’s a real looker, for sure. Can I have a go at her?”
“What?” Sir Giles stiffened. “No…absolutely not. It…well, it wouldn’t be proper at all.”
“Why not?” Dirk looked over at Sir Giles slyly. “Who says you’re this girl’s true love? Maybe I am.”
Ella laughed. “You wish.”
“I have just as much chance as Sir Stuffy-Pants here,” said Dirk. He gave a cocky grin. “Besides, you know the girls all love the bad boys.”
Sir Giles raised a hand. “No, Dirk. I forbid you to touch that fair maiden.”
Lily spun around. Her eyes gleamed with tears. “Oh, why can’t we? Why don’t we all just take turns kissing her?” She turned back around again, arms folded.
Dirk raised his eyebrows. “Okay, I vote that Ella and Lily go first.”
Ella shook her head. “You are so sad, you know that?”
A scream echoed up from the stairwell, followed by a large roar.
Sir Gil
es lifted his head. “Oh, right,” he said uncomfortably. “Torval.”
Ella waved a dismissive hand. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Well, tell you what,” said Lily as she grabbed her staff. “How about you all take turns making out with this poor defenseless girl here and I’ll go help Torval.” She started for the stairs. “It’s better than being in here with you cretins.”
Sir Giles waved both arms. “That’s enough, everyone!”
Lily paused. Dirk and Ella both looked at the knight.
“Now,” said Sir Giles with a cough, “I’m going to kiss the girl.”
“Did you want us to break out into spontaneous song and dance for you?” Ella asked sweetly.
Sir Giles ignored her. He crossed over to the unconscious girl, hesitated for a moment, then bent over and kissed her on the lips.
The room was silent.
Sir Giles stood back up. He watched the girl’s face carefully.
She didn’t move. Her eyes stayed closed.
Lily turned her head away.
Ella gave a deep sigh. “Well…this is awkward.”
Sir Giles touched his lips self-consciously. “I—hmm. Perhaps it needs…I mean maybe I have to—”
“My turn!” Dirk dove in and planted his mouth on top of the girl’s.
“Pearls of Talrilla, Dirk,” Ella squealed. “Get off the poor woman!” She slapped him hard on the back of the head.
“Ow!” Dirk pulled away, rubbing the back of his head. “What the blink is wrong with you? I should get a chance too.”
“Oh, sure,” Lily shot over her shoulder. “Let’s sell tickets, shall we?”
“Now that’s enough, Dirk,” said Sir Giles as he pointed a finger at the rogue. “You can’t—” He stopped mid-sentence, staring down at the unconscious woman. “Wasn’t—wasn’t she wearing some kind of crown just a moment ago?”
Ella glanced down. “I believe the proper word is tiara. And yes.”
Sir Giles looked around. “Well…where did it go?”
Everyone looked over at Dirk.
“Oh, sure,” Dirk said angrily. “Go ahead and blame me. I’m a thief, so I must have taken the woman’s jewelry, right?”
“Dirk,” said Sir Giles sternly, “the tiara is sticking out of your vest pocket.”
Dirk glanced down at the glinting gold. “Dragon’s fire,” he mumbled.
“Put it back, Dirk,” said Sir Giles loudly.
“Oh, come on.” Dirk stared down at the woman. “It’s not like she needs it or anything. And we’re not exactly getting paid for this little expedition of yours.”
“You know,” said Ella thoughtfully as she raised the woman’s arm in the air, “this is a nice bracelet. I think those are real sapphires.”
“We are not robbing a defenseless woman!” Sir Giles cried.
“It’s not robbing,” said Dirk brusquely. “It’s…property reallocation.”
Lily spun around again. “Rob her or kiss her, what’s the difference? Should we go get Torval and see if he wants to kiss the girl too?”
Sir Giles turned a deeper shade of red. “Now see here—”
“This whole thing seem a bit suspicious if you ask me, anyways,” said Dirk with a furtive glance around the room. “I mean, how did this girl get here?”
Sir Giles gave an exasperated sigh. “I…don’t know. I imagine some witch or sorcerer cast a spell on her and—”
“But why?” Dirk looked around the room with a frown. “Seems to be a lot of trouble to go to. Why not just kill her and be done with it?”
Ella held out her hand. The sapphire bracelet dangled around her wrist. “What do you think, Lily? Does it go with my armor?”
“Ella!” said Sir Giles, shocked. “What would the goddess you serve have to say about that?”
Ella searched the ceiling for a moment. “I don’t honestly know. I think I skipped that day at the temple.”
“That a girl,” said Dirk. “Come on, let’s get her rings.”
“That’s it,” said Sir Giles furiously. He pointed at the stairs leading down. “Everyone out. Now.”
“Oh, this isn’t about that silly old Torval, is it?” said Ella as she adjusted the bracelet on her wrist. “I’m sure he’s dead by now.”
“I won’t have us profaning this place and this poor woman any longer,” said Sir Giles hotly. “Now everyone out.”
“You didn’t seem so concerned about not profaning her earlier,” Lily said as she stormed out of the room.
Ella started forward, then stopped. She leaned down and gave the unconscious girl a quick kiss.
Sir Giles stared at the Elf.
Ella waited an expectant second, then shrugged. “Oh, well. Couldn’t hurt.” She followed Lilly out of the room.
“That is so hot,” said Dirk under his breath.
“That’s quite enough,” said Sir Giles. “Now put that tiara back.”
“What?” Dirk pointed towards the stairs. “Ella got to keep the bracelet!”
“She has been corrupted by your malign influence, no doubt,” said Sir Giles. He hefted his sword. “I mean it, Dirk.”
“This is so unfair,” Dirk grumbled. He pulled out the glittering tiara and set it on the side of the raised dais. “There? Happy?”
A roar sounded from down below, followed by a hideous screeching noise.
“By the Seven Lords,” Sir Giles breathed. He dropped the torch, then reached for the kite shield on his back as he raced out of the room. “I’m coming!”
“So am I!” called out Dirk. He craned his neck to look down the stairs, then snatched the tiara again. “Sorry, babe. Easy come, easy go.” He started forward, then paused. He turned back towards the girl and gave her another kiss. “One for the road,” he said with a smile.
Dirk raced out of the room.
The sounds of shouts, an explosion, and the clanging of metal came from below, echoing up the stairwell. There was another scream, a roar, and someone begging for mercy. Finally there was a thud, and the sound of ragged cheering.
Then there was silence that dragged into several long minutes. The torch sputtered out, leaving the tower room in darkness once again.
The girl on the bed suddenly blinked her eyes. She sat up. The silken sheets spilled down onto the floor. She raised a hand to the place where the tiara had been on her head, gazing around the room as she did so.
“Hello?” she said.
Her voice echoed in the empty room.
She stared at her wrist for a moment, then put two fingers to her lips. She frowned and gave a deep sigh.
“Oh, Pixie Flickers,” she said.
* * *
Ben Cassidy is the author of the fantasy action-adventure novels in The Chronicles of Zanthora, as well as the “sword and planet” Tales of the Two Rings. He lives in Vancouver, Washington, with his wife and three children, all of whom are deeply concerned about him. He is desperately attempting to make something significant of his life, to drown the bitter regrets of paths not taken, and to get his downstairs toilet to flush properly. He can be found lurking in dark alleyways on moonlit nights between the hours of 2 am and 4 am, as well as online at his facebook page, which you should not visit under any circumstances whatsoever.
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ben-Cassidy/393172364133550?ref=hl
*
This Moment
J.L. Jarvis
“You're not trying hard enough,” Cam hissed.
“I shouldn't have to try hard,” answered Mac.
“Barton Hillman is perfectly suitable,” Cam said.
“For someone.”
Cam narrowed her eyes.
“Look, either it’s there or it isn’t.” Mac shrugged. “Tonight it wasn’t.”
“Or the time before this, or the time before that. Do you realize how many times I’ve tried to find someone for you?”
“Do you realize how many times I’ve told you to stop?”
Frustration lined Cam’s forehead. “
I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I’m not. Every day I’m surrounded by people who love me.”
“You’re a kindergarten teacher.” Cam rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“But do you know what I mean?” Mac glared at her sister. “If I’m meant to be with someone, it will happen. If not, I’ll be fine. Thank you. I love you. Now leave me alone.” She grinned until Cam smiled back, and they hugged.
Hearing footsteps approach, Cam pulled the guests’ coats from the closet. Her husband, in a well-rehearsed dance, helped Mac shrug into her coat. He leaned back just in time to avoid her sable tresses as she whipped them from inside the collar. Cam handed a coat to their other guest.
While she slipped on her gloves, Mac watched the affable man layer one side of his cashmere scarf neatly over the other, fringed ends matching precisely. As he buttoned his coat, Mac was tempted to give the scarf a tug just to make it askew. Resisting, she offered her hand and her most charming smile. “It was so nice to meet you, Martin.”
“Barton.” The corner of his mouth curved, but he gave her gloved hand a cordial shake.
“Barton. I’m so sorry.” She winced as she felt a flush creep into her cheeks.
Their hands slipped apart awkwardly. He offered a patient smile and turned his attention to donning his gloves. Barton Hillman was an executive at the same corporation where her brother-in-law worked. He seemed smart enough. He was friendly, well bred, and impeccably groomed, as her sister had promised. Cam could have been describing a canine.
After a kiss on her brother-in-law’s cheek, Mac said, “See you at Christmas.”
“It’s so early,” Cam said. “Are you sure that you want to go now?”
Nodding, Mac said, “Yes, I want to beat the weather.” She peered at the sky, where the lightest flurry seemed to mock her. She fought back a frown as she willed the weather to support her excuse. The weatherman had predicted a wintery mix, turning to four to six inches of snow. Cam tossed her a wry look, but Mac looked right back. Lame as it was, she would own her excuse.
After being escorted to her car by the perfectly suitable Barton Hillman, Mac drove down the long, private road that led from the affluent Westchester County home.
The Kiss: An Anthology About Love and Other Close Encounters Page 2
