Twist: A Fairy Tale Awakening (Spindlewind Trilogy Book Two)

by Genevieve Raas

  He sighed.

  “I’m sorry,” he said to me. “My mother is of feeble mind. She lives in years gone by.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she chewed the inside of her lip.

  “You always mock me. Now you mock your king. You must bow or he will be displeased. We can’t ever displease the king.”

  Her gaze softened into one of awe as she met my eyes once more.

  “I saw you when you rode through the village. So handsome. So fierce. I swore I’d never forget those green eyes and angled jaw. Now I see them before me again, just as I remembered.”

  I couldn’t control a chill roll down my spine. In her eyes shone the truest belief. My amulet only tingled stronger.

  “Come mother, leave him alone,” he said.

  She kissed my shirt one last time, then he lifted her and she returned to the house.

  The amulet now burned. I tried to ignore it.

  “What king did she think I was?” I asked.

  “King Edward,” he said.

  The book flashed in my mind as did the roaring lion on the spine.

  “What did you say?” I asked.

  “King Edward. I never saw him in person. But my mother’s favorite tale is when she saw him as a young woman. He strode through our village on horseback, surrounded by flags embroidered with golden lions that roared.”

  Why the only book that mentioned this king was in Pater’s chambers? Curiosity burned within me to discover more. There was always a reason for what ever he hid. Surely this Edward wasn’t so terrible that even he feared keeping such darkness away from me.

  “I’ve never heard of this king before,” I said. “I’ve read every heraldry book, and he’s never mentioned once.”

  He laughed.

  “You probably wouldn’t find him. Most don’t dare to breathe his name. Fear it unlucky.”

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “Fear the same thing that happened to him and his family will happen to them. Misfortune.”

  My skin prickled on my arms.

  “Surely it can’t be all that bad.”

  He breathed deeply.

  “The entire family vanished. One day we are under the rule of Edward, and the next, an entirely new king is on the throne. Never found out why. Of course, working men are too busy to pay too much attention to the squabbles of the nobility. As long as my taxes don’t get raised, I don’t care who holds a shiny staff.”

  He paused.

  “I am curious what happened to the little prince. Not even six months old when it happened. Some are still searching for him. Want him to take back the throne. He just vanished into thin air, just like the queen.”

  My necklace smoldered against my skin, as if pushing me to ask.

  “When did this happen?”

  “Nineteen years ago. Who knows where that little prince is. If he still lives. Perhaps I’m talking to him now!” he laughed. “Poor Prince Tristan, never to know the throne that was his.”

  My breath caught in my throat.

  It couldn’t be possible…could it?

  It had to be a coincidence. But Pater reminded me nothing was coincidence.

  I had to settle it once and for all, and I knew there was only one spot to do that. Pater’s chambers.

  I’d never forget those green eyes and angled jaw

  Nineteen years ago

  Poor Prince Tristan

  The stories kept swirling in my mind as I held the amulet and entered Pater’s chambers.

  Could it be? No. It was impossible. They said they never found him. He disappeared. Would Pater keep such a secret from me? Yes. He would, actually. Secrets were his speciality.

  There was only one way to unearth the truth. The heraldry book.

  I went back to the bookcase and retrieved the book from the shelf. I didn’t care other papers fell to the ground this time. The necklace vibrated still. As if telling me I would know what I always wanted to know.

  I took a breath.

  I opened it, a lineage I’d never seen before. There were names and families. Ancient families. Lines, dates, names.

  De Berg’s, Nichols, Rumpelstiltskin, Habsburg.

  Some I recognized, while most I never heard of. As if erased.

  I traced the line, over pages until it came to King Edward. Another line jutted out from him and my heart stopped.

  Written in Pater’s own unique scrawl was the name Queen Laila and above them, a small line scratched heavily into the paper…my own.

  Tristan.

  It was true.

  I’d never forget those green eyes and Angled jaw

  Nineteen years ago

  Poor Prince Tristan

  Anger heated my skin. This was the secret he kept hidden all these years. I was the lost prince. I traced the names of my parents, seeing them for the first time. My family.

  One answer still remained to be answered. Why?

  Chapter Eight

  RUMPELSTILTSKIN

  A jolt to my head and back told me we arrived—somewhere.

  The shock forced me to choke and then suck in a deep breath. Earth filled my nose. I arched my neck, the muscles stiff and cracking from my movement. I winced trying to stretch my body. Dried grass poked my skin, except for where I still gripped tightly around Laila’s arm.

  Laila.

  I turned my head. My blurred vision refocused on her skin, which rose like soft hills between my fingers. I shook her, but she didn’t wake. She remained lifeless on her back.

  I shot up. Dirt smeared across her cheek and her hair fanned out like a crown. Her back was twisted and her legs were bent so sharply they touched her buttocks.

  A bolt of fear had me press my ear against her chest. Her heart still beat. I kneeled beside her and pressed my fingers on either side of her neck checking for fractures.

  Her eyes flashed open. They fell to my hands touching her collarbone. Her cheeks flushed.

  “Get off!” she shouted, whacking my hand away.

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I wanted to make sure you weren’t injured,” I said, standing to escape her attack.

  “I’m fine,” she said, rolling to her side trying to get up. “Help from you is the last thing I need. I wouldn’t want to owe you anymore than I’ve already paid.”

  She looked ridiculous lurching about. I held out my hand to offer her assistance whether she wanted it or not.

  She only glared up at me, determination to defy me etched in every line of her face. Planting her hands and knees into the dead grass, she pushed up, stumbling slightly as she regained her footing.

  Her body stiffened as she stared out passed me. She crossed her arms and shivered. I turned, following her gaze. Cold prickled my skin and a sensation of dread sunk my heart.

  “Where have you taken us?” she asked.

  Damn.

  “The breath must have gone stale. The potion wasn’t strong enough to get us back to awake,” I said.

  We stood on a hill of brown grass, absolutely nothing breaking the monotonous barren landscape. Dead trees twisted towards the orange sky and boulders loomed like giants. Their gray forms resembled strokes of paint against a sea of beige. A flush of warning told me go no farther.

  “Rumpelstiltskin, tell me where we are?”

  I sighed, hating the word about to roll off my tongue.

  “Nightmare.”

  Her eyes widened, and she swallowed hard.

  “Of course. Why should I have expected any less. Still jumping from one problem and instantly causing another,” she said.

  “At least you aren’t in Fate’s control anymore. Or did you particularly enjoy your luxury accommodations back there?

  She sighed.

  “It doesn’t matter. Only Tristan matters. You heard Fate, he won’t stop until he has us. We must get out.”

  She was right. I could already feel his searching gaze. My scar scorched in pain, deep and throbbing with his rage.

  “Easier said than do
ne,” I replied. “The potion was the only way to awake…unless.”

  “What?”

  “Rivers cut through these realms,” I said, looking around us. “Bodies of water are all connected and divide one land from another. If we can make it to one of these rivers, perhaps on the other side will be more hospitable territory and we can get back through to Awake.”

  “Then get on with it. Poof us to the river.”

  “Gladly.”

  I reached within myself to summon my powers, wanting nothing more than to get us the hell out of there. Dread ran like ice in my veins. A distinct force was missing. I hoped I was wrong in what I suspected.

  Dammit.

  I bent down and grabbed a handful of dirt. Grasping it tightly I closed my eyes searching if there was magic enough to leave. I squeezed it harder.

  Shit.

  I threw the handful of dirt, the gray dust and sand curling through the wind. Nightmare already lived up to its name. I was powerless.

  “What?” she asked.

  “There is no magic here,” I replied. “It is worthless.”

  “It can’t be worthless,” she said. “Try harder. Concentrate.”

  “Do you think I am not already trying?” I snapped. “I want to get out of this damned place as much as you. But this realm cannot support magic, or at least, it can’t support mine. It is Nightmare, after all, and what worse thing than this.”

  She fumed, her cheeks glowing red.

  “You better come up with something,” she said.

  “Or what?” I asked. She remained silent. “Let me think in peace for one moment. Berating me won’t make us get out of here any faster.”

  I paced back and forth, my mind a storm of ideas and fears. I stopped. I saw a way, but it would be dangerous.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “The only way out is to walk and cross the river by foot and with hope.”

  “Trek across Nightmare?” Fear quivered behind her words.

  “It’s the only chance we’ve got,” I replied. “We can make it as long as we remain calm. Peaceful. I have no interest in seeing our inner demons manifested in a place like this.”

  She bit her lip and her face reddened with heat. I knew immediately I asked an impossible task, from both of us.

  “Great! We are stuck hiking through hell, without magic, while time runs out and my son is in danger.”

  “Tristan?” I asked, my pulse quickening. “Why do you believe him in danger?”

  She sucked in a deep breath.

  “Because in nineteen years of being Fate’s prisoner, I heard enough slip to give me concern. Fate needs Tristan, but for what, I don’t know. I just know I won’t let him be taken from me again.”

  My nerves frayed. It was only a matter of time before Fate discovered where we were. I knew what he wanted of me, but of Tristan? What part could he play in all this? I couldn’t bare the thought.

  A howl rang through the air, tingling my bones. Echoes of whispers fluttered in the distance. Or, were they beside me? Within me?

  She turned on her heels and marched off, the tall grass clinging to her tattered skirts.

  “Where are you going?” I called after her.

  “I appreciate you getting me out, but now, I have to go after my son. Alone. I can’t suffer any more of your interference. It has only ever led me from bad to worse.”

  A woman howling in grief rippled within the cold wind.

  I rushed after her.

  “Now is not the time to be rash,” I said. “We are in Nightmare. In Dream an entire kingdom existed on desires. Here, this land feeds on our fears and regrets. There’s no telling what creatures, or dangers, we will encounter. Our best chance to escape Fate and get to Tristan is to remain together. You have to trust me.”

  She laughed, the sound cracking out of her throat. She picked up speed.

  “Are you serious? I could never trust you. Not after what you did to me, what you made me,” she said.

  I grabbed her arm and pulled her against me. The memory of her heat hit me hard and made me loosen my grip. Her cheeks flushed.

  Another eerie sound rolled in the distance, a hollow breeze curling around my neck.

  “I know I don’t deserve your trust,” I said, “but I just crossed the entity I loathe for you. To save you. Surely that means something?”

  I searched her eyes for a glimmer that my words fractured her hardened heart. They only grew black and smoldered, like two volcanoes ready to erupt.

  “It means nothing,” she said.

  She ripped away from me. My heart pounded up into my throat which already burned like raw sand.

  “I know you don’t trust my help, but I must give it. What more do you want from me? I will give it.”

  Five seconds of silence loomed like five years over us.

  “Nineteen years,” she seethed.

  The orange sky disappeared behind darkening clouds that swirled with her anger. Lightning tore through the sky and crashed in rumbling waves.

  “Nineteen years?” I repeated, stupidly.

  A loud clap echoed in my ears as she struck me. I bit down on my tongue in shock as pain spread across my cheek.

  “I want back the nineteen years you took from me,” she yelled. “ I want back every lie you told. Every twist you put in that golden thread. Every beat of my heart that yearned for you.”

  I allowed the sting from her hand to sizzle my skin. I deserved every bite. I looked at her worn eyes. The vivaciousness that had once resided within them was burnt out. Her chestnut hair was dull and hung like limp seaweed around her face.

  Thunder split through the earth again. The wind strengthened, sizzling with menace.

  I stepped closer to her.

  Bruises battered her cheeks. Her chapped lips split with every word she spoke. I could mend her wounds, but time was unbendable. In those passing ticks of the clock I would forever be remembered as a villain.

  I had been.

  I was.

  Only her footsteps crunching through the dry grass woke me from my reverie. I couldn’t let her leave.

  “You’ll die for certain if you go by yourself,” I called out to her.

  “Then at least it is a destiny I have chosen and not one predestined for me,” she snapped.

  Nothing would sway her. I saw that now. I bit my lip knowing I had to play my ace, though I hated it came down to this. No other choice remained. I told myself it was for her protection, for the boy’s, but in truth I didn’t want to be without her again.

  “Tristan is still bound to me,” I called out. “Even if you would miraculously find your way out of this hell, you would never be allowed to find him without my permission.”

  She stopped. She turned. Her upper lip twitched.

  “Already the twisting begins,” she said.

  She marched back towards me, her tattered skirts bundled in her fists. Lightning flared again in garish white. The clouds crashed and rolled into one another.

  “I’m not twisting anything,” I said calmly. “I’m only upholding the addendum you requested. Don’t you remember?”

  Behind her face that glowed with hatred a funnel of black surged down from the twisting sky. Pressure pounded within my ears as the air sucked from my lungs.

  “Of course I remember,” she said.

  “Our blood mixed on the page that night, Laila. You gave Tristan to me and ever since he has remained under my protection. The magic is binding. Absolute. Until his twentieth birthday, he remains mine.”

  “How dare you try to manipulate me!” she screamed.

  The vortex roared with majesty and greed as it neared us. This realm was already proving its power and danger.

  I spun her around, hoping she would understand what we faced. How this place already fed on us. We both focused on the spinning clouds consuming the dust and grass.

  I kept calmly on.

  “I know you hate me, but for this moment, right now, I need you to put that asid
e. All that matters now is that we get out of here before it’s too late.”

  Her arms fell to her sides, but her breaths remained deep and fuming. I believed our hair would both turn gray before she finally reached a decision. She pulled out of my touch and faced me.

  The tornado rose back into the clouds that dissipated, and the sky returned to its eerie orange.

  “Fine,” she pushed through tight lips. “I will stay with you, but don’t think this means I trust you. Don’t you dare think that for one second. I am only doing what is best for Tristan, what I should have done since the beginning.”

  “I nodded my head, relief relaxing my hardened muscles.

  “Which way, then?” she asked.

  I closed my eyes and thought. To return to Awake, Dream must be dissolved,

  Tristan’s voice spoke in my mind as he discussed the book Dreams and Enchantments.

  Dissolved.

  I looked towards the setting sun and pointed in the opposite direction.

  “East,” I said. “Towards where the sun rises. Where Dream and Nightmare dissolve into Awake.”

  She started out at a brisk pace and I followed at a short distance behind her. I opened my mouth to speak the thousands of words that needed to be said, but only silence filled the space between us.

  LAILA

  Pig. Imp. Fraud.

  A series of insults tumbled through my mind as we marched on. His every footstep echoing behind me caused these abuses to grow exceedingly graphic.

  Bastard. Git. Prick.

  I kept my eyes firmly on the horizon. It was the only way to keep my thoughts from drifting to the man that I once loved. Who I still loved, though I hated myself for it. There was a time I thought I could heal his heart, but being held prisoner for nineteen years showed me I had been a fool to ever believe I could tame a monster.

  What angered me more was I was equally to blame as he. I took his deal in that dark dungeon. I gave my unborn child away for power. I couldn’t bare these memories. Hating him was far easier than accepting the truth: we were the same. We were both selfish creatures determined to win.

  Now because of us, my son was in danger. Again.

  I focused even stronger on the slice of earth cutting through the yellow sky. I would not permit myself to think on Rumpelstiltskin. I must only think of what lay ahead. Of being reunited with Tristan.