by K. A. M'Lady
I stood up and made eye contact for the first time in eight years with four inches of beautiful, amazing, ugly, raw power. There was no better way for me to describe her, really. For some reason, my new Tell I had to presume, I could see every layer of Queen Corral’s power and beauty; and just underneath it was the stripped-down core of her soul, burning black as the darkest pit in hell.
How does one so ugly come to lead the children of Light? It’s too bad I didn’t have any answers.
The dais was before us and on that, a golden table draped in a frothing golden cloth. On the table sat the Queen’s High Table, her Throne Chair and that of her personal Court.
The Queen was an interesting rare beauty. One I didn’t recall her being. Her small stature had nothing on her, for the outward appearance would put most human women to shame. She bore a perfect hourglass figure, set off to perfection in her flowing sea-foam gown that hugged her waist, emphasized her ample breasts and set her bronzed skin off to a golden glow.
Her long honey-blonde hair was coifed into an intricate topknot with perfect wisps of curls left to hang free about her face. She bore thinly arched brows over aquamarine eyes, a small rounded nose and a cute, pert chin. Even her lips were perfectly bowed and colored just the right shade of shimmering coral. I don’t remember her ever appearing lovelier.
That’s when I really noticed the difference in her though. It was when I stared just a little too long. There, beneath the surface, the suffused haze of shaded light creeping in around the edges like sludge from a cesspool, the Darkness creeping in ever so slowly, blocking out the rainbow of her chakra. Distorting the glimmering glow. Covering the beautiful white light with the thick, oblique darkness, the dank stench and rot, leaving behind its smear of blackness on her pretty little flesh.
I briefly wondered if you could smell its putrid haze lingering around her flesh as well, or if she had to drench herself in the floral fumes of the forest just to cover the rot.
It seemed my Queen had been dancing in the Darkness. It made me wondered if her subjects knew of it. It made me wonder who she was dancing with.
“What in all the powers that glimmer is this bastard spawn of a human heathen from hell doing here? Who allowed her to violate our Queen’s presence with her half-breed, whorish ways?” The screeching had officially commenced and with it, the scene to begin all scenes for the mother of all bitches on wheels had officially arrived at the Pixie Court.
Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to present—Lady Gwina—psycho bitch with wings or without—depending on the spell. Otherwise known as my mother.
“That’s your mum?” This from Mercy, who was standing next me. Yes, standing. Her I’ll bow to no goddamn four-inch Sprite; kiss my Irish Goblin, bloodsucking arse! was all the comment she gave when Gimlit advised that it might be wise for her to adhere to court politics and bow before Queen Corral. No one corrected her that the Queen was a Pixie, not a Sprite.
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “Real beauty, isn’t she?”
“If you like your ladies short and pink…I suppose. How the hell did you end up with green hair?” she asked looking at me with a sideways grin.
Was Mercy teasing me? There was a first. This night was definitely something for changes.
My mother was literally pink from head to foot. From her long, wavy pink hairdo to her flushed pale pink skin to the tips of her fuchsia-pink toenails. Every bit of her was even decked out in pink. She wore a long flowing gown of sparkling pink, three shades darker than her own flesh.
It probably explained why I detested the color in all its various shades.
She was just under four inches tall, but she might as well have been ten feet for the amount of fear, vengeance, and hatred that rolled off of her towards me.
I think there was only one characteristic that I’d gained from her and that was her eyes; hers being so dark in color they were just shy of becoming red. Maybe they turned red when she was really pissed. I didn’t know, and I really didn’t want to stay long enough to find out.
“If you and your slut of a Death Stalker are done with gossip hour, you pathetic, sniveling, wretched excuse for a Pixie, I’ll ask you again. Who the hell allowed you the right to come before my Queen?”
“Does she always interrupt your Court business, your Highness?” I questioned, completely ignoring my mother.
“Don’t you dismiss me!” Her voice thundered through the room, and any Pixie—or any Other, for that matter—within a five-foot radius stepped back away from us, clearly avoiding the wrath that was Gwina.
“She is allowed her time to speak,” the Queen stated. You could see the gleam of amusement in the Queen’s eyes. She was thoroughly enjoying herself. Maybe she’d planned it this way. It did keep her from sullying her perfectly bronzed little fingers.
“Answer my question, Goblin Whore!”
I was really growing tired of listening to this bitch patronize me. Really, what was the worst she could do to me? Ditch me in the fucking forest and leave me to die? Or better yet, give me to a fucking Goblin for a month while I was powerless, while he…. Well, she’d already done that too.
“What is it you want, Mother?” I emphasized the word just to piss her off. I knew I shouldn’t be pulling this particular monster’s tail, but she was really pushing my buttons.
“I wanted you dead.”
“Well, we all can’t have what we want, now can we?”
“I see your Goblin has raised you not only to be disrespectful, but mouthy and rude as well,” she said, glancing towards Gimlit with disgust. “I also hear that your home is now filled with a variety of vagabonds whom you randomly fuck as well. Tell me, daughter. Have you fucked the Ogre too? Is that part of your arrangements? Is that why he has let you live all these years? So you can be a whore, passed about the Other World? Have you become the Silent Court’s Lady Whore?”
Laughter began to blossom up around the room and my anger level went from contained rage to fueled fury in a matter of two seconds flat. Anger that spurred my Wolf. Like a dark force she rose up inside of me, her hackles raised as a low, simmering growl escaped me.
My mother looked at me, for the first time with interest and intent; her eyes dark with a fire all their own. “So, daughter, it seems you have come home ripe full of secrets.”
“This was never my home,” I said, my voice low as my Wolf slowly paced inside of me, watching my mother’s every move.
“Very well,” she said, waving off my comment. “But here you are nonetheless. Tell me, what is it that you seek? What has brought you and your pathetic band of creatures before my Queen?”
“My business is with the Queen, Mother. Not with you.”
“But you see, dear Rihker, that is where you are wrong,” she said, all but leering at me. “We are not fools here! The Silent Court does not idly send its Hunter without a reason. If you and the Silent Court wish to play some sort of game, I will not stand by while you try to make fools of us. While you try to make a fool of our Queen.” Her voice had risen to a thundering crescendo, the crowd held in awe.
I could see why the Queen kept her around. She liked to make mischief where there was none. The Lady Gwina liked to stir the pot.
“If it is a game you wish, I’m afraid you won’t like the outcome. For you are yet to be a match for me. You will never be a match for me.”
I hadn’t realized that the growl had been a challenge but apparently just being here, in her home was challenge enough. Fine. So be it. Bitch wanted to dance. We could dance.
“Name your price,” I replied, never once taking my eyes from her, my hatred and rage for this woman so thick in my belly I could feel the Darkness curl around me like a chenille blanket on a cold winter’s eve as it warmed itself by the fire of my hatred. Even here, in this place of Light, the Darkness was a cold, chill flame burning inside me.
Suddenly Gimlit was beside me. His hand tight on my shoulder pulling me back from the dais. “Rihker, you do not know what game it is
you play. Your mother may be a child of the Light, but there is a Darkness here. Can’t you feel it?”
“I feel it, Gimlit,” I whispered softly as the Darkness settled in the pit of my soul.
Gimlit looked at me, his eyes holding deep concern. “I don’t like this,” he remarked, his face holding an array of strange and unspoken fears. “You don’t know what these court games are like, Rihker. She will use your greatest fear and your weakest link. She will use them, and when you concede and do not follow through, she will own you. You will get nothing. Nothing that we came here for.”
My mother and the Queen were whispering back and forth with each other, conferring in their little game of politics. Trying to come up with their worst torture for me; to see if I would bear it or be willing to die trying. I bet I knew what my mother was hoping for.
“All right,” my mother finally said, a dark, viscous gleam glowing from her now-bright eyes.
“Tell me this first,” I said, cutting her off. “When I win, what do I get?”
She laughed the sound a sharp, shrill cackle coarse enough to break glass. You’re serious?” she finally gasped when she was able to draw a breath.
“What do you want?” the Queen asked, deep interest filling her bright aquamarine eyes. I figured it was now or never.
“Entrance through the secret door,” I said, keeping my face still, my eyes direct with hers. I knew she knew exactly what I was talking about by the sudden stillness in her form, the quick intake of breath. She stared at me for a solid minute, considering all possibilities before replying, “So be it.” But she was definitely not happy with the agreement.
I knew whatever trial I was about to suffer was really going to hurt.
Gwina looked at the Queen for acceptance. With her nod of approval my mother said, “Very well. Rihker Tennai, This Court orders you...”
“To fuck your Ogre,” the Queen finished. Gwina turned and looked at her Queen, her own shock clearly written all over her features.
Chapter Eighteen
Scanning in his mind so many times and places,
He’d had enough of dying species,
The triumphs of the strong over the weak,
The endless struggles to survive,
All doomed sooner or later.
From Consolation by Wislawa Szymborska
Translated from the Polish by Clare Cavanagh & Stanislaw Barańczak
The screeching that ensued from the Queen’s obvious unplanned decree was from my mother. As she belted out her, “You can not be serious!” Along with, “I refuse to be a party to this outrage,” rang through the entire Throne Room. In fact, the entire room was up in arms as the Queen’s Court discussed their distaste.
I merely stood in the same spot, digesting the Queens directive. What exactly would become of Gimlit and I, were we to do as commanded? How would this affect us?
I turned to look at Gimlit, and he was staring at me, his eyes hooded, his head bowed. Did he already know the answers? I tried to search his eyes for my own answers, but he wouldn’t look at me. Instead I reached for his hand; large, warm and as always, comforting. I found the answers I needed in the strength of his responding touch.
I looked to Jade, somehow seeking his approval. Though why I needed it, I’m not entirely certain. Yes, I had taken him as my mate. But even that was not entirely explained to me as of yet. I still didn’t understand all of the rules. For some reason, though, I didn’t feel that he owned me. I felt like it was the other way around. I had claimed him. I merely looked to him for acceptance out of respect, not for his permission.
His nod of approval eased something inside of me that I didn’t fully understand, but was glad for it all the same.
“Very well,” I said, keeping my eyes on Gimlit. The crowd was still raucous, voices whirling through room.
“What did you say, Rihker?” This from the Queen, her voice raised above the throng, their voices finally fading as her power rolled through the room quieting the masses.
“I said, very well. But not in your Throne Room. If I’m going to agree to this, then I deserve the respect of the Queen’s privacy.”
She looked at me intently, her golden hair glowing in the illumination of her own power. “As you say,” she agreed with a nod. “A royal bedding you shall have.” The smug little smile that creased her lips was so sickly annoying, I wanted to smack it off her face.
“No! I’ll not allow this,” Gwina stated. She was wringing her hands, her jaw clenched so tightly I was certain her teeth would crack under the pressure of it.
“Enough!” The Queen bellowed. “Lady Gwina, you seem to forget yourself. My maid you may be, but I rule this Kingdom. Or have you forgotten your place?” Queen Corral was now glowing like a beacon in the night; the outer core of her body circled by a brilliant hue of aqua, her tanned skin so bronzed it seemed that the Light lived beneath her flesh and at any moment would explode from beneath it.
I could feel her as she took that power and sent it rushing headlong into my mother. She flung it at her with all of her might, like a lightning bolt charged directly into her center. She called Gwina’s power, her Light and then sucked it out of her like a swirling vacuum.
We watched in amazed silent horror as Gwina was lifted off her feet, her body floating several feet in the air; the Queen’s outstretched hand before her all but pulling the Light from her wavering body. The life force that had once filled Gwina with a bright pink flame became a sputtering ember, her skin growing pale, eerily luminescent. Withering, wavering before our very eyes until the Light all but faded out and she fell to her knees before the Queen, her body falling flat on the dais, her face prone at the feet of her Queen as she groveled for forgiveness before her. Begging for her pardon.
“Let me show you what I do to those who disobey my authority,” the Queen stated, her body lit up like a neon aqua glowstick. Underneath it, deep in the center of all of that beautiful Light, I could see the core of her, burning, her soul burning in the sludgy haze that could only be the long-reaching arms of the Darkness.
“Wasn’t that it?” Jade whispered to Gimlit.
“Not even close, I’m afraid,” he replied.
As I stood lost to the glow of what seemed to be a new power immerging within me; awed by the Darkness beneath the Queen’s Light, I missed the grand entrance of what had apparently become the Queen’s punishment—Modgav the Goblin King. Modgav, rumored to be half-brother to Queen Corral herself. Apparently, he had become the nightmare to Pixie Land, and I’m quite certain he relished the title.
With a nudge to my ribs, Mercy returned my attention to the rest of my unfolding nightmare. “What is a King of the Dark Lands doing in a Land of the Light?” she asked, watching intently as the Goblin crossed the front of the dais, some sort of creature—at first I thought it a girl, then a Troll and then somehow a chair—chained to his wrist as he dragged it behind him.
However, I wasn’t at all surprised to see him there.
Modgav was just as horrible as I remembered him being; stout, round and barrel-shaped, he had long, gangly arms and meaty trunk like legs. His flesh was a sickly mixture of blue and puce and had lumps, bumps and hairy warts of various shapes and sizes all over it. His head was overly large, but his flat-topped skull somehow managed to sprout a cropping of golden peaks of hair atop the strangely shaped melon.
He still had the eeriest eyes of any Other World creature I had ever seen; a swirling cyclone of aqua, orange, green and yellow all fading into his large black pupils. His cauliflower ears, large bulbous nose over the long line of his razor-sharp teeth completed the horror of his face, all of it a lingering nightmare that I had thought was long behind me. But seeing him, dragging that poor creature behind him, made all those long terrible days and even longer nights return in one long, agonizing vision of hatred and vengeance.
All of it re-igniting the Darkness in my belly that lay in waiting, resting beneath my flesh; my own demon haunting my soul.
I watched him approach Queen Corral, her entire Court all but holding their breath in fear as he jerked the chain attached to his wrist, sending the creature careening into the edge of the dais.
“You have but to call, and I will gladly attend,” he said with a slight bow to his portly waist. He was dressed from head to toe in black; a black leather jerkin, black breeches and black boots. At his waist he wore a sword as long as my leg and I wondered how a creature his stature could walk, let alone fight with a blade half his size.
“The blade is Kushkun’s Zion—The King’s Soul Seeker. It is said to steal the very souls of those whose flesh its blade pierces.” This from Mercy, who had not taken her eyes from the Goblin since he’d entered the room. She watched him in a morbid sort of feared pleasure, making me worry if she was truly going to have our backs if shit went south.
“What is it you seek of Modgav?” he asked as he jerked the chain again and the creature attached to it scraped along the floor, cowering at his feet.
When I could finally draw my eyes away from the grotesqueness of all he represented, gathering my rage inside of me once again where I pushed it down and slammed the door closed on it until it was time to let loose the mighty storm that would become the fury of a long awaited destiny of payback, I turned my sight, finally to the creature at the end of his chain. What I saw I was unprepared for; the battered, wounded and mystical beauty before me withering in the shadows and suffering wrought at Modgav’s hand.
Her form was small, petite in its fragility, small boned and thinly structured. She had waist-length multi-colored hair parted down the center and without bangs, leaving her face unobstructed. She was exceptionally pale, which set off her large, doe-like bright green eyes. Her nose was thin and up-turned over bow-shaped lips that hid an equally small chin. Her face was round, her cheekbones high and by the sad, hollow look that her eyes held, it had been an extremely long time since she’d had anything to smile about.
