Kingdom of Mirrors and Roses

by A. W. Cross

  “Now, now, no reason to get hissy.” Approaching, he unfurled the cloak around her shoulders. Thick warmth seeped into her skin, allowing her body to release a grateful sigh. Relief was short-lived. His hands still atop her shoulders, he murmured, “Could it be you were trying to run away?”

  The darkly-put words and his lingering touch shoved a spark of fear into her chest, but she refused to pay it mind. Clutching her book until her red fingers went ashy, she faced him directly. “What else would you expect an unguarded prisoner to do?”

  His hands dropped, allowing her a moment’s reprieve. “Honesty is a good trait. So rare in humans.”

  “Must your backhanded compliments always insult my species?” She glared.

  “Of course.” Humor glimmered in the pits of his eyes, melding with something almost like anticipation. Anticipation for what?

  Frowning, she wrinkled her nose. “What are you?”

  “A nightmare and a prince wrapped together and living in the imaginations of young children.” Auber, for an instant, appeared both forlorn and majestic, his chin raised like a proud ruler. The illusion faded quickly.

  She pressed ahead. “Are you human?”

  He snorted.

  Her eyes narrowed. “A monster then?”

  “Because there are only the two options?” His quirked brow didn’t condemn her words, but a seed of guilt sprouted. And abruptly died.

  “Anyone who settles a debt with a life could be both.” Fayre’s eyes drifted toward a window, finding half an inch of powder on the sill. Her lips parted, frail hope of leaving without a trace wrenched away. When would she have another chance?

  “Do you miss the woods?” The gentle question burrowed into her, so she looked up to find Auber’s gaze fixed on the distant trees.

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “Back to your cell, my dear. I have an appointment right about—” He checked his bare, tattooed wrist. “—now.” Long strides took him to the door, and he opened it for her. A final glance at the grey sky, she exited and followed him through the empty halls.

  “What do you even do out here?” she asked once the tower steps had managed to come into view.

  “Pardon?”

  “What’s your appointment?”

  He stopped with his foot on the first stair. “You’re curious?”

  His large back stilled so completely he appeared made of stone, and she clutched her book tighter. “Yes?”

  A smirk stretched across his face, and he spun, plucking the leatherbound from her arms as though she didn’t hold it in a death grip. He set it against the steps, then clapped his hands. “Marvelous. You’ve been cooped up for quite too long. Humans have been known to go insane under such conditions. And we simply can’t have you turning out like me.”

  Her heart pounded at the possibility he was going to take her outside, and she forced herself to remain calm lest he think better of it. Every move from this moment till they left this place would be vital if she would have a chance of repeating them when the snow cleared. However, neither she nor her head were prepared when Auber swept her off the floor and leaped through the nearest mirror.

  Her vision skittered to the left, then dropped into darkness.

  4

  Fayre gasped, blinking fast to clear the fog. Strong arms were coiled around her, like a snake, and she looked directly into Auber’s horrifying gaze after coming to. He smiled, patting her back as one would a child.

  “She awake?” A gruff voice tore her attention from the fact she was seated upon the monster’s lap. “Pretty eyes.”

  Her body tensed. A human sat across from Auber at a small round table, a single candle illuminating his matted hair and stubbled face. The less-than-pleasant scent wafting off him and his gold-plated grin made her stomach reel.

  “I’m still curious.” He ran his tongue over his gold teeth. “What’s she doin’ ‘ere, Beast?”

  “None of your concern,” Auber replied coolly, his thumb drawing circles against her back, then drifting into more elaborate designs, almost like he was fending off boredom, agitation, or both.

  Though she glared and remained deathly still, the motions were not terribly frightening.

  They stopped. “We have yet to reach a conclusion, and I’m growing tired.”

  The man spat on the dirt floor of the cramped room. “Not my fault.”

  “To say that it’s not your fault…” Auber chuckled, the sound foreboding in the worst ways. He leaned forward. “Living so uninteresting a life that not a single memory is appealing to me can only be your fault. I cannot provide you women and riches for anything less than an extraordinary piece of your past.”

  The man sneered, crossing his arms, then his gaze blackened, tracing over Fayre until she had the distinct urge to scream. “What about just her then?”

  Auber leaned back, jet tar filling his tone when he spoke. “Excuse me?”

  Fayre’s hair prickled all along her arms, and her head whipped to face the other man. He grinned, acting like nothing had changed. “What about just that young woman? I didn’t spend all this time or risk finding you to go home empty-handed. What do ya want for just her?”

  Fayre’s throat tightened as she met Auber’s gaze. He didn’t bat an eye, but the words slipping from his lips poured like pure, pitch oil. “A year.”

  “A year?”

  “Of your life.”

  Terror surged, and Fayre choked. Her hand darted to her neck when she realized she couldn’t speak, but it was too late. The man slammed his fist against the table. “Deal!”

  Auber’s hand raised, and a snap echoed in the space.

  The man’s grin slackened, his eyes rolled back, and he fell to the floor in a discarded heap.

  “—you can’t just—” Fayre halted, panting for breath the second she found her voice.

  Auber lifted her as he stood and set her on her feet before stretching his arms above his head, yawning, and asking, “I can’t just what?”

  “Sell me to…him.” She swallowed the bitterness resting on her tongue. “What did you just do?”

  “I sold you for a year of his life. I took the year he was currently using. And in case it’s unclear, I’ve stolen you back from the dead man.”

  Blood rushed from her brown cheeks. “You killed him?”

  “I didn’t think that part was unclear.”

  Mind blank, she stared.

  “Don’t look at me like that.” He crossed to the rickety door and opened it. A breeze rushed in, snuffing the candle from existence and catching three leaves where the table and chairs had been just moments before. “I was rather kind, all things considered. He deserved worse. I was tame for your sake.”

  “My sake!” she stammered, forcing her eyes off the body just a foot away. “But you killed him?”

  “Don’t your laws permit a death penalty? When severe public humiliation or extended bouts of torture isn’t enough, of course.” Auber leaned against the shack, and it rocked with his body.

  “Yes. In response to mass murder. Not lechery. Or buying slaves.” As she spoke, Fayre found it hard to pity the man, but Auber’s judgment remained harsh, terrifying with how emotionlessly he had served it.

  “A pity. There are far worse things than murder, lechery and enslaving people being two fine examples. Anyway, come along. I’d like to be back before supper.” He pushed off the wall, and the shack teetered. Fayre followed him outside if only to escape the putrid scent filling the stagnant air.

  An open field dotted with homes lay before her, a distance away, and she pulled her cloak tight against the wind, wishing she could bolt into the lake of rippling green and never see the creature walking in front of her again. “Where are we?” she asked.

  “A couple thousand furlongs from your kingdom, in a direction that I will not specify.” His pace didn’t falter as he cut through a main street in the village, dodging the sparse residents. No one noticed either of them.

  “More magic?”
she noted, no longer able to deny the mystical abilities he had displayed, from lighting a hundred candles without touching them, to killing a man instantly. Could she manage to leave now? To slip away into the field, hide in the rushes? If she did, what could stop him from taking her back?

  “Not so much of a charlatan now, am I?”

  “No.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, but she averted her eyes. Entering a modest home, Auber whistled before striding down the hall and opening a door into a room with a small bed.

  Fayre peered around him, stilling when something stirred beneath the covers.

  “Knock, knock,” Auber murmured, tapping a knuckle against the wall. The tiny lump shifted again, dark brown eyes peeking from beneath the thread-bare comforter. Auber’s expression gentled into something almost tender. “Afternoon, sweetheart. Remember me?”

  Like a burst of lightning, the child tossed her blankets aside and darted to Auber, throwing her arms around his legs and squeezing her eyes closed. Tears overflowed down her cheeks. “Did you do it?” Her voice broke. “Am I okay now? Am I safe?”

  Auber bent, lifting the girl into his arms. She touched his grey cheeks as he nodded. “He’s been taken care of, and you’re safe. If you’re good, no one is going to hurt you again. At least until you’re a teenager.”

  “I’ll never be a teenager,” she stated, completely sincere. “I promise I won’t.”

  Auber smiled. “Good girl.” His eyes flicked to Fayre. “Teenagers are nothing but trouble.”

  “I don’t understand…” Fayre whispered.

  The mischief in his gaze died. “That’s for the best.”

  “Is she my new mother?” The girl’s eyes brightened. “I miss having a mother.” She reached for Fayre, displaying a bruise that twisted around her wrist, like large fingerprints. Something dreadful constricted in Fayre’s heart, but she cupped the tiny hand in both of hers and smiled at the little girl anyway.

  Before she could reply herself, Auber huffed. “Sadly, no. I’m afraid she has a horrible temper, and this is in fact the first time I’ve seen her smile, so, alas, I must keep her under my watch and allow her no responsibilities.” When Fayre’s smile dropped back into a frown, he grinned. “But. We should get you home, shouldn’t we, sweetheart?”

  The child nodded, pulled her hand away from Fayre’s, and wrapped both arms around Auber’s neck, settling her head against his chest and drying her tears on his shirt. Sleepily, she replied, “Yeah. Home.”

  ✶

  This time when Fayre stepped through the mirror, she felt only the slightest bit nauseous. Whether that was from the smothering sensation of walking through glass or what had happened with the little girl, she couldn’t be sure.

  “Little boar,” Auber drew her attention out of her thoughts.

  Glaring, she faced him.

  “The mirrors don’t just work for anyone, so don’t accidentally break them, please.”

  “Who are you?” She ignored his statement and held his gaze. “What do you do?”

  “I already told you I was the amalgamation of children’s fantasies and nightmares, and I believe you’ve just seen what I ‘do’.” He folded his arms, raising his chin. “I steal away children and memories, leaving trails of broken lives in my wake.”

  “But why? Why help the child? You took nothing from her, as far as I could tell.”

  His lips pursed, gaze shifting away. “It’s very rude to take things from children. Have you ever considered how tiny their hands are? They have to choose very carefully what they hold onto because they can’t hold much.”

  “You aren’t going to give me a clear answer, are you?”

  “I’m not going to give you the answer you want to hear, the answer that would give you any hope about your situation.” Fangs flashing, he leaned forward. “I don’t have a heart, little boar. It doesn’t ache for the young ones or pity the corpses I forge through to reach them. I follow a set of duties; that’s all.”

  She swallowed but refused to flinch. “And how am I included in this rigid set of duties?”

  “You?”

  “Me.”

  The unsettling smile thinned into a smirk. “Well, I’m not sure. Perhaps that’s partially what makes you so amusing.”

  Her fists clenched, but she took a deep breath to calm herself. “Why did he call you ‘Beast’?”

  “My goodness. Do you ever run out of questions?”

  “No.” She set her arms akimbo.

  Auber’s head shook, but he patted down his clothes all the same before seemingly flipping a slip of thick paper out of thin air. “The Beast of the Magical Black Market; you did indeed mention having heard of me. My card.”

  Fayre didn’t take it, but she glanced at the excessively prim script. Make a wish in a mirror and dare to believe. “Do you cater to children?”

  “On the contrary—” He flicked his fingers, and the card disappeared. “—children cater to me.” Holding out a hand, he didn’t quell any of the mischief dancing in his eyes. “Anyway, we’ve had an exuberating morning. I’m certain you’re quite starved.”

  Fayre stared at his painted fingers. He had killed a man. He had saved a child. He had kidnapped her and kept her in a tower. He didn’t have a heart.

  “I think I might be sick.” Turning to the stone steps, she glanced up the dark path, then down at her herbology book where it still rested against the wall.

  “I nearly forgot.” His voice stopped her mid-bend to retrieve it. “You’ll have a visitor later, so do try to be in your room.”

  Dread welled as she remembered the man who had claimed to be her father. Leth. Why would he wish to see the poor girl he’d pawned off? But who else would even know to visit her here? “You allow your prisoners visitation rights?”

  “I take them on excursions too, don’t I?” Giving away nothing more, Auber turned on his heel, running his fingers through his thick black hair. “I’ll have a tray brought to your door in case you fancy not starving as well. I’m really such a wonderful warden.”

  A hand against the wall, she looked at his retreating back, then called, “Beast, with the girl did you disguise how you looked like the first time we met?”

  He shifted his head to peer over his shoulder. His smile broadened to his fangs. “Now, whyever would I do that? Having a strange man in your home is terrifying.”

  “So no?”

  “No.”

  Then how could someone so young have been at such ease? A chill crawled up Fayre’s spine the longer she stared into the pitch of Auber’s eyes. With fangs, pale tattoos, and those unsettling, animalistic eyes, he fit his nickname perfectly. Beast.

  But was he really as beastly as he seemed content to display? For all his flippant actions, she couldn’t help feeling purpose directed his moves. So what part did she have to play in his games? Did she really want to know?

  Dropping her gaze from his manic stare, she snatched her book off the steps and slipped up to the tower. Once the door was closed behind her, she rested her back against the rough wood and took a moment to breathe.

  Snow bleached the world outside the window, every twig powdered white. It fell soft and silent, hiding trails creatures had left in the brush, but it was too late to hide hers. Perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. If she was going to find her freedom, and keep it, she needed a way to defeat the beast.

  Or a way to make him let her go.

  5

  Fayre lifted a piece of bread from the tray in her lap to her lips and turned the page of a worn hardback titled The Feather. The slim novel had appeared outside her door several hours ago alongside the tray of food, and her curiosity had forced her to open it.

  Enchanting tales of magic and myth spun off the page, painting pictures of pirates, oceans, and even jellyfish. She had only paused once when a sketched illustration of the plasmatic creature had caught her eye. “’Tis a fantasy novel,” she’d told herself in her most prim tone. “You can’t believe everything
you read.”

  But she did. The vivid places described, the characters, the images, all of it felt so close, so real. Maybe when she left this place she would venture out upon the waves, view the foamy beaches, trail footprints across the sand.

  As the last few pages turned into paragraphs, mere lines, then a final word, Fayre had nearly forgotten everything in the world around her, until a soft knock sounded at the door.

  Her mood soured instantly when she jerked back to reality. Remembering the company Auber had mentioned, Fayre scowled. If Leth stood outside that door, she was more than prepared to physically fight him over the matter of her freedom. The moment she won, she’d ask Auber to take her through a mirror to the ocean and be rid of this mess.

  Nothing but salty breezes and endless, rippling waters.

  Steeling herself to meet with the man who had damned her, she crossed the room. Fayre slammed the door open and glared down at an unsuspecting teenager, who jolted. Shaking like a leaf, the little woman stepped back on her hooved feet.

  “What?” Fayre’s frown melted away as she blinked. “You’re…”

  “Delhi,” she whispered. “I’m Delhi.” She held a dainty hand to her chest and took several deep breaths. “You’d think I’d be calmer, what with everything, but…oh well.” A smile lifted the young woman’s lips. “Hello.”

  “Hi.” A few fragile seconds of silence thickened the air while Fayre adjusted. “You’re the girl from the bear trap.” How was she here? Had she been a spy for Auber?

  Delhi brushed her hoof against the stone, her small brown nose twitching. “I am. It’s nice to formally meet you.”

  Fayre’s lips parted and closed several times before she managed, “Nice to meet you too.”

  Peering around Fayre, the woman took in the small room, then pouted, murmuring something Fayre couldn’t make out.

  “I’m sorry…” Fayre interjected as politely as she could manage. “Why are you here?”

  Delhi snapped straight, eyes giant. “To thank you.” She shifted her hoof, displaying peeled fur and a jagged scar upon her calf. “Timings are so difficult. If you hadn’t come when you did, I would have lost my leg.”