“No!” Ever shouted back, squinting through the rain that was beginning to pelt them more steadily. “It’s too far!”
“We can’t stay out in this!”
As if to agree, a bolt of lightning struck a tree just behind them, and as it fell, Isa and Ever had to swerve dangerously, making their horses scream in protest. Isa prayed the children would hold on.
“Wait!” Henri’s call was so frantic that Isa slowed just a hair to look back at him. “I know where we are!” he shouted. “My old cottage is just that way!” Henri pointed south. “A tree fell on it, but we’ll be out of the rain!”
Immediately, Ever turned and began to lead the charge southward. As they ran, Isa prayed that the children’s parents had not died in the cottage as Henri thought they had. For the children’s sakes, she begged the Maker, let someone have come and taken the bodies!
But as they continued to push on, Isa made out what looked like a light up ahead of them, a faint yellow glow against the black of the forest. It was a lantern, she realized, which hung in the window of a fully functional little cottage. She thought about asking Henri if this was a different cottage, but a bolt of lightning struck so close that a tree not thirty feet away caught fire. Just then, they reached the cottage. Ever dragged both children off of the horses and pushed them under the eaves with Isa, then he practically yanked the horses into the pathetic little lean-to that stood beside the house. “In!” he ordered, throwing the door open.
None too soon, either, for as soon as the door was closed, another tree even closer to the cottage burst into flames behind them.
“That was close,” Isa murmured as she looked at her little band. They were all dripping and looked quite disheveled. They were also all staring in the same direction. Ever’s face was drawn into a tight frown, and Genny’s was one of timidity. Henri looked as though he might faint. When Isa turned to see what they were looking at, her gaze rested upon two commoners, a man and a woman.
The man was stocky and short with a scraggly brown beard, and the woman was lean with a pinched face. They had been eating at the little wooden table just to the left of a glowing hearth, but now they both stood, looking as though they wanted to run.
Isa had thought at one point that her heart couldn’t break any further. In the last few months, she had lost her home, her friends, Garin, her kingdom, and her hope of ever bearing a child. But she had been wrong. For the single word that Henri uttered caused her more pain than she could have known possible.
“Father.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
A Lucky Thing
The king looked down at Henri. “I thought you said your father was dead.”
“But a tree fell on the roof...” Henri stuttered, looking back at his father. It was wrong, but he somehow felt more bothered by Claude’s life than he had been his death. Henri had seen the tree and the smashed roof. But as he looked around now, Henri realized that the house had been completely repaired. New glass windows were in place, unfamiliar stones strengthened the walls, and the roof was even higher than it had been before.
“Your Highnesses!” his father sputtered, finally seeming to awaken from his initial stupor before turning to his wife. “Don’t just stand there gaping like a fish, woman! Get them something to eat!”
Helaine blinked a few times before nodding blankly at Henri’s father. But the look she sent Henri and Genny over her shoulder made Henri cringe. That look often came with an ear boxing.
“Allow me to introduce m’self.” His father gulped. “My name is Claude Biscoup. This here is my wife, Helaine. And you, Boy,” he looked down at Henri, “go get some more firewood for our guests.” Henri swallowed the storm of feelings that raged inside him as he prepared to face the storm outside again, but a hand placed itself firmly on his shoulder, pinning him to the spot. Henri looked up to see the king glaring at Claude.
“He will do no such thing,” the king’s voice rumbled. “It is dangerous.”
Henri could have hugged the king.
“I want to go home,” Genny whimpered, turning to Miss Isa and wrapping her arms around her legs. But the queen was distracted, too, staring furiously at Helaine much in the way King Ever was doing with Claude. A long, awkward silence stretched between the four adults.
“Thank ye for bringing our children back,” the woodcutter finally mumbled, looking at his feet as he spoke. “We was looking for them for quite some time now.”
“The boy says they became lost in the woods. Twice.” The king’s reply was icy. “They even found their way back once to find the cottage destroyed.”
“Storm did that while we was out looking for the little buggers,” Claude muttered.
“Of course.” But the king’s face was dark, and his mouth was in a tight line.
“I’m sure once you’ve eaten and warmed and the storm is over,” Claude nodded at the window, “that you and Her Majesty will wish to be on your ways?”
Henri’s chest suddenly tightened, and he silently begged the Fortress not to let the king push his father too far. Once the king and queen had gone, he and Genny would be all alone again. And who knew what kind of punishment Claude and Helaine would pour out upon them for their subsequent humiliation? Henri hadn’t realized just how much he’d wanted to stay with the king and queen until he had seen his father and Helaine again. His stomach twisted into a knot. The king had moods, to be sure, but so did Claude. And at least the king’s moods had a purpose. Claude’s moods, and worse, Helaine’s, could come at any time, often ending in purple and blue marks on his and Genny’s skin. And for all of King Ever’s stern words and expectant looks, never once had he struck either Henri or Genny in anger. Of course, this thought only made Henri shake harder.
“Actually,” the king said, his grip tightening on Henri’s shoulder, “we are in need of a place to pass the night. I am sure it will not be an imposition to stay here with you.”
“As you wish, Sire,” Claude bowed his head and turned to throw another log into the fire.
“You, two!” Helaine’s grating voice snapped. “To bed with you. It is late, and you will be worthless in the morn if you get no sleep now.”
Henri knew Helaine would make him regret it later, but he dared a glance up at the king, wishing suddenly with all of his heart that the king would carry them away again just as quickly as they’d come. Henri would never run in the Fortress halls again or spill the king’s wine, and he would keep a tighter rein upon Genny. But King Ever only gave him one slow nod.
Surprisingly, Genny did as she was told, something Henri gave silent thanks for. But in spite of that miracle, wretched tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he slumped forward to obey his step-mother. It felt strange to lay upon the scratchy straw mat with Genny, now that he was used to sleeping in night clothes and in the palace bed. But the itchy straw pallet and lack of bedclothes were the least of Henri’s worries.
Witch or no witch in the Fortress, Henri knew that under no circumstance could he live in this house again. Never again could he watch his stepmother lay a hand on his sister, nor could he endure his father’s cruel words. After the king and queen left them, they would run to Soudain. He didn’t know how, as they had no horse, nor did they have any food, but he would get them there somehow. Perhaps Miss Isa’s parents would allow him to work in their store. They seemed nice enough. Anything was better than living unwanted and despised.
A lone tear rolled down his cheek.
“It’s a lucky thing you’re getting rid of these ones,” Helaine was saying in a sour voice. “They’re no innocents like other children their age.”
“How did they come to wander in the forest alone?” Miss Isa asked, ignoring Helaine’s comment. Henri wanted badly to see her face as she asked such a bold question, but he didn’t dare. Helaine would double his punishment in the morning.
“They were out in a storm,” Helaine said uneasily. “My husband had been cutting wood in the deeper parts of the forest. Some parts of
the woods is more confusing than others. Anyhows, Claude here turned to find them when the storm got closer, and that’s when he found they were gone. None too convenient, either. The lightning just got so close he had to come home.” She paused. “The witch got them the next day when we went looking for them again.”
The queen said something else, but Henri didn’t hear what it was. Instead, his heart began pounding, and he began to shiver. Helaine was lying. Her story hadn’t at all been how he and Genny had gotten lost. Such he had expected from her.
But how did she know Henri and Genny had been captured by the witch?
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Half-Truths and Quandaries
“You’re lying.” Isa interrupted whatever gibberish the pale, stinking woman was spewing. Ever had been considering interjecting with some objection of his own, but Isa’s quiet tone promised danger. Claude and Helaine stared back at her blankly.
“What happened? In truth.” Isa leveled a dark look at them, Helaine in particular. Her voice was perfectly calm, like a lake of ice. But Ever knew that deep inside, her heart was breaking.
What Ever couldn’t understand was how Henri and Genny had come under the care of this worthless man and his awful wife in the first place. Despite that fact that his world was falling apart back at the Fortress, Ever suddenly needed to know. It made sense, of course, that his father’s mistress might not have wanted to raise the children, as she must have been Fae. But if this couple disliked the children as much as they obviously did, then why had they kept the children for so many years before getting rid of them? Did they know where the mistress was? Did they know that the children had royal blood? Fortunately for Ever, he didn’t have to ask many questions. It seemed Isa would do all of that and more for him. She was still glaring at the silent couple across from them.
“I would answer her,” Ever warned them.
“I am not their mother!” Helaine blurted out.
“So the children have told us,” Isa said.
“They belong to my first wife,” the woodcutter said.
“Well,” Isa asked after a moment of silence, “do you care to explain? Or shall I make you?” she raised an eyebrow, daring him to refuse.
“She was an odd little thing,” Claude sighed. “Half starved and half mad when I found her in the gutter of a village not far from here. Kept muttering that the king was her father. I thought it was the hunger that was driving her mad, so I brought her back to the village’s church and asked her to marry me. Told her I would feed her and give her a home. I never thought the madness would stay after she was fed and rested,” he added with a grumble.
His first wife? Ever was reeling. Sacha was the children’s mother?
“Her mouth was so dry she could barely say the vows—”
“You didn’t have the decency to get her to her right mind before wedding her?” Ever asked in disgust. “You couldn’t even wet her tongue?” His voice was louder than he’d meant it to be, and the man shrank back like a frightened rat. Good. When Ever glanced at Isa, however, he realized she didn’t seem nearly as surprised by this sham of a marriage as he was. Only angry. How common was this kind of marriage, where one could carry the other away and the holy man would oversee the vows without question?
“I didn’t want nobody to think I was being indecent with ’er.” Claude swallowed loudly.
“Continue,” Isa said.
“We... We gets home, and she has a fit. ‘I can’t find the veil,’ she says over and over again. It was a few weeks with me before she stopped talking so much nonsense. Liked to take long walks in the woods, though. And never got terribly fond of me.”
“Did ever she find anything on her walks?” Isa asked.
“Not for a long while. Another few months and she was too heavy with the boy to walk far anymore.” The woodcutter frowned, scratching his wide chin for a moment. “I didn’t know what she was after until the boy came, though.” He glanced at Henri, who now snored quietly in the corner beside his sister. “I found soon that she an’ him could do things... Came in one day to see them playing with fire!”
“What were they doing?” Ever leaned forward. He had an idea as to what Claude meant, but he wanted to hear more about Sacha’s abilities. And Henri’s.
The woodcutter held up a rough, meaty hand. “The boy was making some sort of fire with his fingers, rolling it and bouncing it upon them, and she was watching.” Claude shivered. “When I saw th’ look on her face as she watched our son, I figured for the first time that she was no ordinary woman. An’ she was different after that. Like another creature. Somethin’ had changed her, somethin’ like,” he leaned forward and whispered, “the Sorthileige.”
“What did you do after that?” Ever asked.
The woodcutter just shrugged. “What could I do? She was short-tempered and did as she pleased. Still went on walks every day, left the boy with me most hours.”
Would it kill him, Ever wondered, to ever use his son’s name?
“Few years later we had Genevieve. As soon as she saw the child, she insisted on walking again, though she was dirty and still breathing hard from the birthing bed. Still didn’t find nothin’. Began to get even more ill-tempered. It became so that if I displeased her, something unpleasant would happen the next day. She all but stopped talking to the boy. Would come back from her walks with books and such. I can’t read, but they gave me shivers enough whenever I looked at ’em.”
Ever was beginning to see why Henri had spent so many hours at the church instead of at home.
He sighed. “I knew that it wouldn’t be long then from the look she got in her eyes whenever she looked at them. Sure enough, soon as the girl was weaned, barely over a year, Sacha went for her usual morning walk. Never came back. After she left, I had the holy man come and bless the house.” Claude’s voice cracked as he stared hard the table. “’Twas a house of darkness.”
Ever glanced at Isa, but her face gave nothing away. “Is that why you remarried?” she asked.
Poor Isa. She must be dying inside to hear how these children she loves so much were cast off, Ever thought. And, Ever found, it angered him, too.
Claude nodded hesitantly, the silver in his beard glinting slightly in the firelight as he mumbled something about not being able to care for two young ones on his own.
“And I tried!” Helaine squawked. “But soon it was obvious that boy had witch powers in him. He would set things on fire! The house, the woodpile, even—”
As she prattled on, Ever couldn’t help but think that it was a wonder Henri hadn’t caused any more accidents than he already had, especially with someone like her around to make him doubt and hate himself so much.
“You still haven’t explained how the children got lost in a place where they have lived all their lives,” Isa snapped. “Why would they get lost here? And now?”
Claude didn’t answer, though. Instead, he turned to his wife and slightly lifted an eyebrow. Her gaze flitted back and forth between her husband and Isa before finally nodding and making a subtle noise with her throat.
“Before the children were lost, unlucky things started to happen. Accidents befell us. Common and uncommon sicknesses, fire... even more than the boy’s usual upsets,” Claude whispered. “I knew it was her, calling them. I could feel her near.”
“So you gave them to her?” Ever stood so fast his chair flipped backward with a bang, but he didn’t care. “You are their father!”
“What could I do against her?” Claude blanched, holding his hairy arms out before him. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, you have never been in my place, nor do y’know what you would’ve done, what with Her Majesty not being able—”
“I would never have traded them for mere peace and quiet! I can promise you that.” Ever spoke through clenched teeth, leaning over the table so that his nose nearly touched the large man’s.
“Hold on,” Isa said. “You say you heard her calling for the children?”
�
��More or less.”
Isa stared at Claude. Her dark blue eyes flashed as Ever felt her reach out with her power and wrench the man’s soul out from its hiding place. And she didn’t do it gently, for which he was glad.
“Oh, just tell them!” Helaine crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.
Claude took a deep breath. “Very well. She came to us, and we made a deal.”
Ever had a mouthful of words that he wanted to shout at the man, including a few words in particular that he rarely uttered. Before he could, though, Isa turned to him with fear in her eyes.
“She was the one who placed us together!”
“What?”
Isa shook her head impatiently. “When I hit my head and fell through the tear, Sacha was the one who placed me with the children! They weren’t there by accident. She wanted me to fall in love with them! Ever!” Isa covered her mouth. “She’s planned this from the very start!”
Ever stared back into her eyes as her words sank in.
“Get the children.”
Isa scrambled to do as he said, but Claude protested. “You can’t just take my children! You just brought ’em back!”
“You said yourself that you cannot protect them.” Ever grabbed the stocky man by the arm, satisfied when he heard something snap. “I’m not about to leave them with someone who would use them again to purchase peace of mind.” With that, he turned and stormed over to where Isa had awakened Henri and was trying to rouse Genny. Ever scooped the little girl up in his arms and strode toward the door. “We’re going. Now.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The Right Thing
“Ever,” Isa called softly as he placed Henri in front of her, and then lifted Genny up onto his horse with him. Henri stirred in her arms but quickly settled into another doze. Ever didn’t answer her, so she called his name again, and finally moved her horse in front of his to make him stop. When his eyes met hers, they were full of a kind of pain Isa had never seen before. And yet, she had to ask. “What are we doing?”
Beauty Beheld: A Retelling of Hansel and Gretel (The Becoming Beauty Trilogy Book 3) Page 21
