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Stepmothers and the Big Bad Wolf eARC

Page 4

by Edited by Madeline Smoot


  “No, my lady, no bribe. The gift is yours whether or not you grant the boon.” Alyssa swayed again, then sank slowly to her knees. She was so tired.

  “Hmm.” The fairy lifted her hand and the basket floated towards her. When she removed the checked cloth, she smiled in delight. “Why, tis lovely!” She lifted out the framed watercolor picture of Alyssa’s favorite bend in the little river, brightly colored with springtime flowers, a blue sky overhead. Beneath the painting was a loaf of bread, a wheel of cheese, and a selection of vegetables from the garden. “I will hear the boon you ask of me.”

  Alyssa cried silent tears. “Please, Lady Fairy, please. My daughter is injured, dying. Only with your blessing will the waters of the river heal her.”

  The fairy’s delight vanished. She returned the painting to the basket and stepped lightly down the bank. She set the basket beside Alyssa and touched her tears with a gentle fingertip.

  “You know magic, young mother. It has a price that must be paid. If a death is coming, it cannot be averted. I will not choose another to take her place so she may live.” The fairy’s heart-shaped face was sad, but resolved. “Take your gift and return home to say your goodbyes. I am sorry.”

  “Please.” Alyssa grabbed the fairy’s hand, desperation quickening her voice. “Please, I’m not asking you to choose another. I offer myself instead! I will take her death if you will but let her live!”

  The river fairy tilted her head and looked puzzled. “She is not the child of your body, and you have just borne one that is. You would leave the little one?”

  Alyssa blinked back a new wave of tears. “Not happily, but I know Ginnia and Heather will raise their sister well. My brother will hide them from their father until they can be moved to a more distant village. We have a cousin, far away. He will give them a home.”

  The fairy was not content with this answer. “What is the girl to you, that you trade your life for hers?”

  Alyssa shook her head. “She is my daughter, of course, and I love her.”

  The fairy lifted her head and looked straight towards the road, which came near the river at this point. A horseman paused, his horse rearing a little at the sudden pull on the reins. The fairy and Alyssa had been hidden from his sight until the fairy willed it otherwise.

  “Do you hear this, young Lord William? The woman you have despised and scorned this past score of months trades her life for your sister Heather, leaving her own child behind. She will hide your sisters away from your father’s anger. What say you?”

  William slowly swung out of his saddle and stepped down to the riverbank.

  “I am sorry,” he told Alyssa humbly. “I was jealous and selfish; I thought you married my father for his money. I see now that you did not.” He looked at the fairy. “Take my life instead. She deserves to have her daughter, and she’ll take care of my sisters.”

  The fairy stepped back and shook her head. “Most often the price for a healing is refused. ’Tis seldom indeed the price is agreed to by one, and never by two. Very well, I’ll grant the token for the healing, but know this: I cannot say who will pay the price. Magic is willful and has its own way. You know this, young mother, and you respect it. You have but touched the edges of what can be done, and have ventured no further than was safe. Magic approves this respect.”

  The fairy held out a perfect pink rosebud. “Place this bloom in the bucket of water you draw from the river. Let it rest there until the flower unfurls from its sleep. Have young Heather drink one cup of the water, and pour the rest into a basin. Allow her head to rest almost completely submerged in the water. By morning she will be well, and the price will be paid.”

  Alyssa gently lifted the rose from the fairy’s palm and cupped it in her hands. The fairy tried to hand back the basket but Alyssa refused to take it.

  “A gift is a gift,” she insisted.

  “Come, Aly—Stepmother,” William said gently, helping her up the bank to his horse. “We’ll get back to the village faster,” he added gruffly as he helped her mount behind him. “Hold tight; we’ll be going fast.”

  Alyssa pressed her cheek to William’s back and held tight while the gelding launched himself into a ground-devouring canter. If both William’s back and his cheeks became wet, neither mentioned it. The distance it had taken Alyssa so many hours to walk flashed by. As they neared the village again William turned his horse off the road to ride through the woods.

  “Where are the girls now?” William asked quietly as he guided the horse through a stand of trees.

  “At my brother’s,” Alyssa murmured, aching and stiff.

  “Hold on, Stepmother,” William said, leaning forward and urging the horse into a fast trot.

  Young Lord William’s many rides through the countryside had given him a thorough knowledge of how to get to and from anywhere. He used the knowledge now to quickly and covertly reach her brother’s house, with only a brief pause at the riverbank to draw the bucket of water. Alyssa dropped the pink rose into the water so it could work the magic needed while they finished their ride.

  They arrived in full dark. Only one dim light burned in hope of guiding her home. William helped Alyssa down from his horse, taking the bucket of magical river water from her and carrying it to the door. It opened before they reached it. Ginnia’s young face was wan and tired, dark circles bruising the skin beneath her weary green eyes.

  Ginnia’s eyes widened and the slump vanished from her shoulders.

  “Stepmother, you are back!” she exclaimed, throwing the door open and taking a hasty step towards Alyssa before coming to an abrupt halt, her relief dimming just as quickly. “You did not find the fairy.”

  Alyssa stepped up to her, closing the distance that fear—fear Alyssa now understood—would not allow the girl to cross. She laid her hand gently on Ginnia’s cheek.

  “I found her,” she said gently. “I have it. Come; we must hurry!”

  Tears shimmered in Ginnia’s eyes, and she opened the door wide. William preceded them inside with the precious bucket, following Alyssa’s murmured directions to the room where Heather lay senseless. Her hair was spread neatly over the pillow, its golden glory hidden in the dim candlelight.

  “Quickly,” Alyssa whispered, reaching for the empty cup on the bedside table. She dipped up the water and settled on the side of the bed. She paused and looked around. “The babe?” One last time she wanted to hold her daughter, let her feel all the love she bore her.

  “Here.” Ginnia bent over a cradle tucked in the corner of the room and lifted the warm little bundle that slept within. She handed her half-sister to her stepmother and stepped back, watching sadly as Alyssa kissed the soft skin of the baby’s forehead.

  “Now,” Alyssa said. “Lift Heather’s head, William. Caress her throat, Ginnia, so she will swallow as I pour the water into her mouth.” Together the three accomplished the task, with little spillage, until the cup was empty.

  William poured the remaining water into the basin, the pink rose floating serenely on the surface. Ginnia arranged her sister so that her head rested over the side of bed and Alyssa placed a low stool beside it. With the basin on the stool, Heather’s head rested completely within the water, only her pale, heart-shaped face visible above it.

  The three settled to wait. Alyssa sat in a chair, her babe in one arm and her hand holding Heather’s. William leaned against the wall by the window, his face dark and brooding. Ginnia sat on the bed beside Heather, holding her other hand and humming. The long hours of the night passed slowly, quietly, disturbed only by Amber’s whimpered pleas for feeding or changing.

  Dawn seeped through the world and at last Heather gave a long sigh and opened her eyes.

  Tears of joy spilled from Alyssa’s eyes. “Oh, darling! William, she’s awake!”

  Ginnia gave a glad cry and bent to kiss her sister’s cheek, mindful of whatever injuries she might still have. Even as William jumped to the bedside and Heather struggled against their arms to sit up, Alyssa�
��s joy dimmed. It was dawn. Heather was healed. It was time.

  Alyssa rose to her feet, her movement distracting William. He looked up at her;his smile faded and he too rose. Alyssa bent and kissed Ginnia’s forehead, and then Heather’s. She placed sleeping Amber in Ginnia’s arms.

  “Care for her and love her, as I love all of you,” she said gently, touching Heather’s hair. “My beautiful, wonderful children. You will be safe, and never have cause to fear again. I promise you.”

  “It’s time?” William asked somberly.

  “It’s time.” Alyssa accepted the arm that William extended to her and together they walked from the room. “I would like to see the sunrise.”

  “It is a beautiful time of day,” young Lord William agreed.

  They walked out into the field, to the river’s edge where the sunlight glittered like diamonds on the ripples the wind stirred up. The sky brightened to a serene blue. Birds sang from trees and bushes. The morning grew later; Alyssa and William waited.

  As the midday hour approached and Alyssa began to fear that Heather had not been healed at all, the sound of hoofbeats interrupted the symphony of wind, river, and birdsong. Her brother Robert rode up to them, his face somber.

  “What has happened?” Alyssa asked, rising from her seat on a large river rock. “My baby? Heather?”

  “Both well and growing stronger,” Robert assured her as he pulled his horse to a stop. “Alyssa, I have sad news. Lord Gavin was at breakfast when he discovered that you and his daughters were gone. His servants say he became enraged. In the midst of his shouts and threats, his face turned purple and he fell to the floor. He is dead, sister.”

  Alyssa gasped, her hand reaching for her throat as it closed on her. “Dead?” she whispered. “My husband!”

  William’s face was stony. “He was a cruel man,” he said simply.

  “He was kind to me, and gentle,” Alyssa whispered as tears blurred her sight. “I know what my future was, after Amber’s birth, but I loved the man I thought he was, that he pretended to be. Love does not die. It endures, even if the recipient is gone, or never truly existed.”

  “The price has been paid, young mother,” the river whispered. “Go to your children. Raise them to love and not fear, to give and not demand, to know joy despite any sadness. You have the river’s blessing.”

  William took Alyssa’s hand and helped her down from her river rock. Robert took her other hand. Together her brother and her son led her back to her waiting daughters.

  It is said among the villagers that their village was blessed on the sad day that Lord Gavin died. From that day forward, the frivolous parties that Lord Gavin had thrown were no more. Games were played in the vast gardens of the estate. The orchards and fields were opened for the villagers to use; whatever they grew they could keep. The many empty rooms sheltered the temporarily homeless of the village, and the money that Lord Gavin’s estate continued to earn went to helping the village.

  When the king’s family came for their summer retreat the following year, Ginnia caught the eye of the eldest prince. The king and queen found no objection to his choice, and Ginnia blossomed under his gentle attentions. The following summer a simple wedding was held, and one guest of remarkable beauty caused many whispers, and more than one sideways look when shimmers seemed to trail at her back.

  Alyssa did not marry again, but found her life full and happy with her four children and, in time, grandchildren to love, and, it seemed, the whole village to mother. She became known as Stepmother by all in the village save one: her own dear Amber.

  Ameria Lewis lived the life of an American gypsy for most of her adult life, floating from state to state as the whim and wish took her. But regardless of her physical address, she’s had a permanent home in daydreams and writing. Ameria has run a writing club for nearly 20 years, currently attends college as a non-traditional student, and won NaNoWriMo for the first time in 2013. She is currently pausing in northwest Louisiana, for who knows how long.

  “I’m stopping by the mall to pick up a book I ordered before going to help Grandma with her gardening. She’ll probably want me to stay for dinner. If I can’t catch the last bus, I’ll give you a call to come get me. Love you, too.” Julie pushed her phone closed, grateful to end the call. After hearing her youngest brother screaming in the background, she was glad to be out of the house for a while, even if it would involve tiring work outside on a hot Saturday in September.

  It was shortly past 10:30, so at least she’d have some time to read her book before catching the bus across town. Even if the mall was busy, it would be quieter than home. There weren’t many cars in the lot yet, or much traffic, at least not at this corner of the mall away from the food court entrance; that was probably why the bus stopped here.

  The central food court area was busy as mall walkers finished their coffee and breakfasts. Julie zigzagged through a brigade of strollers to get to Now and Zen, one of the few independent stores at the mall.

  She gagged slightly at the smell of incense as she entered. None was being burned, yet the smell still permeated the air.

  “Julie! It’s been too long, girl!” came the greeting from Nadine, the 18 year old daughter of the owner; she ran the shop on Saturday mornings.

  “Hi,” Julie replied, “I can’t stay long. I am here to actually buy something this time, though.”

  Nadine smiled “Yeah, I saw you had Dad order Wings of an Eagle for you. Let me know if you like it. We ordered a couple other copies to sell; we like to support local authors.”

  As usual, Nadine chatted on without much encouragement as she rang up the book. Julie paid and said she’d stop in to talk again soon, then headed back to the food court.

  Ricky circled the parking lot looking for a good space. He thought about parking back among the employee spaces since there wouldn’t be much traffic there until the afternoon, but he opted for a close space behind the trash dumpster since almost nobody parked near those. He was driving his dad’s old Grand Marquis. Though his dad didn’t mind him driving it and adding extra speakers, a CB radio, and other audio stuff, Ricky would never hear the end of it if somebody scuffed it in a parking lot. His dad probably wouldn’t even know he’d made the trip since he was away on business this weekend, yet it was still best to be cautious. Hopefully he’d find something quickly and be on his way. Shopping wasn’t his favorite thing, yet it was early enough in the day that a run to the mall shouldn’t take too long or be stressful. He’d resigned himself to going since some things couldn’t be found online, and sometimes you needed things right away; malls could be good for that.

  Once inside, Ricky browsed through the game store and the electronics store, yet didn’t buy anything. None of the new games appealed to him, and he mostly played online anyway. It was starting to feel like it might be a wasted trip, yet there were still a lot of other things to see.

  Heading towards the other end of the mall he passed a group of girls talking at the entrance to a clothing store. They hushed, staring as he walked by, and started giggling. He really hated it when that sort of thing happened. He shoved his hands in his pockets and continued on, looking at the floor.

  “They think they’re better than me,” he thought, “and they don’t even know me. Nobody does.”

  He looked around the food court where lines had started to form for lunch. Why people would go to the mall to eat didn’t make sense to him. Why not eat your own food at home and make a shorter trip? He went to use the restroom, watching people going about their lives oblivious to him. Then, when he came out, he saw her.

  She was sitting on a bench next to an escalator, casually twisting a stray piece of her pony-tailed hair as she read a book. She looked about five years younger than him, likely still in high school. She was poised, and relaxed, like she didn’t have a care in the world.

  Ricky averted his gaze and walked around the promenade. He kept glancing at her, seeing her from all sides. He went down the stairs and his heartbeat
quickened as he crossed to go up the escalator. He got a good look at her ring free hands when he passed within two feet of her, and he noticed the bus schedule with some times circled that she was holding for a bookmark. She didn’t reek of perfume and was dressed simply in scuffed sneakers, jeans, and a t-shirt with a thin flannel shirt. Most people probably ignored her, too. He couldn’t though; she was like a dream.

  A mix of thoughts ran through his head. He wanted to take a chance—maybe he needed to do so—yet he felt conflicted. He went back to the parking lot, quickly, arguing with himself the whole way.

  Julie’s phone dinged to remind her she had 20 minutes to catch the bus. She sighed, and closed her book. She wasn’t thrilled about gardening, yet knew she’d feel bad if she didn’t help, especially after Grandma’s heart trouble the previous year. Mom couldn’t do much with the other kids in tow, and it did give Julie a bit of a break. She put the book in her bag and decided to walk outside since the weather was nice, and it would be less crowded.

  The sun was bright as she stepped outside, and she blinked as her eyes adjusted. She followed the sidewalk towards the bus stop, hoping the A/C on the bus would be working.

  “Excuse me miss, could you help me for a minute? I seem to be in a bit of a pickle,” a soft spoken young man, with an accent she couldn’t place, called from the next row of cars. He looked only a little older than her, and rather cute.

  She glanced around, startled. “Uh, I don’t think I can; I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

  He looked a little hurt, and anxious as he came over and stopped about ten feet ahead, directly in her path. He was tall, tanned, and looked rather strong. He blocked the sun as she approached. She squinted against the surrounding glare as she looked up at his face. He smiled at her and wistfully said, “Are you sure?”

  She thought to herself that if she were the one needing help she’d be really frustrated to be dismissed out of hand. So she asked, “What’s wrong?”

 

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