by May Sage
Plus, to make the ordeal complete, she was barefoot, in a miniskirt and a flimsy tank top.
“I can’t keep going for much longer,” she managed to say, her throat burning at each word.
“The likelihood that the rebels might have taken a vehicle is overwhelming,” the machine replied. “They will catch up unless we reach cover.”
Dammit. “How much further?” she asked, her tone almost begging.
“The forest lies a quarter of a mile ahead. At your current pace, we should reach its borders in under ten minutes.”
Aurora stopped, bent in two, and breathed in and out, trying her best to not have a heart attack right now.
“The forest?”
Her voice was weak; her question, rhetoric. She knew where they were now, despite the cover of the night. And she knew where they were headed too.
The forest of thorns. The machine was leading her into the mouth of the tiger. Maleficent’s domain.
“And what would she do to that stranger?” she’d asked.
“You honestly don’t want to know.”
He’d told her to relax, explained that it would be him disturbing the beast. And Maleficent wouldn’t harm her old friend. She’d bought it with difficulty.
But it wasn’t going to be the king of Ferren, proverbial knight in shining armor. It was going to be her.
Fuck.
“I can’t do this.”
Her head snapped left, catching a noise and a light. There was some movement. It was far, but the robot had been right, they were chasing her with cars. They might not be crazy enough to enter fay land, but in the quarter of a mile between her and the forest, they’d catch up with her.
Aurora closed her eyes and prayed that she wouldn’t regret it this time.
“I wish for some fucking help right now.”
Chapter 17
The creature in front of her was positively shocking. It shouldn’t be possible to be quite so handsome. It was too much; he should have seemed effeminate with all that long hair floating and the super long lashes. He didn’t.
She knew who this was. She’d heard that he was one to smile and that his eyes were full of mischief. That wasn’t the case at all now. Rumpelstiltskin looked tired. Exhausted.
“Another one,” he grumbled. “At least now I’m done with all my goddaughters, I guess.”
She lifted a quizzical brow. “Ignore me. Baby brain. Now, let’s get this over with. I’m on nappy duty. Your wish was a little too general, narrow it down.”
Aurora bit her lip. “Can you wake up Princess Aurora, save Rupert, stop my father and his acolytes, and—”
“And get you a neon green unicorn with a yellow bow on top for your birthday too,” he completed for her. Her shoulders sagged. Like that hadn’t been specific enough, he shook his head and said, “No. I’m not abusing magic.”
Aurora twisted her neck to look behind her again. Then she frowned. The car didn’t seem any closer.
“They’re frozen.”
“Observant. And inaccurate. We’re currently having this conversation in your mind. I’m not here. The moment we’re done, time will resume its course.”
She tried to make sense of that and decided that her head hurt enough as it was without adding another pile of unnecessary crap.
“Let’s make things simple. You have problems. All of them can be solved by one person.”
Rupert, she thought at first, but she dismissed the idea. Her gaze returned right ahead, past Rumpelstiltskin’s shoulders. Maleficent. She was the one who’d started all this from what she’d heard. And if Rupert was right, if she really was his friend, she no doubt could help now.
That left her with one little problem.
“I’ll never make it.”
“Yeah, you’re screwed.” The fay wasn’t exactly pulling his punches. “Well, you would be without me anyway. You asked for help; I can help you get to the castle.”
Aurora beamed. “You’ll get me there.”
He bent in two, hands around his middle, and laughed out loud like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his entire life. There even were tears at the corners of his eyes.
“Sorry. Yeah that’s another massive ‘no.’”
Aurora grew frustrated and impatient. “Some fairy godfather you are,” she told him, crossing her arms.
He eventually stopped laughing in her face. “You know, you’re very much like Ella when you do this.” Aurora narrowed her eyes, tired of hearing of her resemblance to a woman she didn’t know at all. Who cared?
Rumpelstiltskin went back to the subject at hand. “Apologies. It’s just that, you think you have problems now? Make me step a foot in this place and you’ll know what problems are. That’s one sure way of starting an immortal war in this world.”
Oh. “Why?”
“Because,” said he, “I’m the last unseelie royal, son to the unseelie queen. And she,” he pointed behind him, “is queen of the seelie realm. Her land is sacred to all of her kind. There’s peace between both of our courts right now, because we leave each other alone. Entering her domain without an invitation means starting a war that’ll destroy this world.”
Well, as far as excuses went, she’d definitely heard worse.
“Okay. So you can’t get me there. What then?”
The fay tilted his head before clicking his fingers.
“How about that?”
She followed his gaze, looking down at herself. Her mouth formed a perfect O, because she was stunned.
She looked freaking ridiculous. Armor covered her, from toes to her neck—comfortable, light armor made of material she wasn’t familiar with. She had a shield on her left arm and a sword in her right arm.
“It’s freaking pink!” was all she managed to say.
Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes. “Better?”
Looking down again, she saw it had changed to blue now. Which, yeah, was a thousand times better.
“I don’t see how this is gonna help at all.”
“It’s an exosuit,” Rumpelstiltskin explained. “It’ll protect you and make each of your steps ten times faster. Each of your movements stronger. You’ve done some fencing.”
“Back in high school!” she protested.
He just shrugged. “You’ll do just fine. Now if you excuse me, I need to go.”
The next instant, the man disappeared. Aurora felt some cool air brush her face and heard movement behind her. She was back in the real world—in shining armor and holding a sword.
Here goes nothing.
She forced her tired muscles to move and yelled as she leaped into the air, landing a good ten feet away.
Her eyes widened when she was back on the ground. Then a smile spread on her face. Okay, so the fay hadn’t been completely out of it.
She ran—or jumped—and less than a minute later, she’d arrived at the border of the imposing thorn woods. The land no one—no one sane and not suicidal—ever entered.
“Are we really doing this?” she asked the machine next to her.
“The odds of success have dramatically improved, Miss Stephenson.”
She chose to take that as a yes.
Breathing in and out, Aurora walked into the frightening woods she now knew to be the entrance of the seelie court.
Chapter 18
“Sign.”
Rupert smiled. His captor was growing frustrated.
“That’s never going to happen, Stephenson.”
He expected the next blow, hitting him right in the stomach. But their beatings were of little consequence. They knew as well as he that he couldn’t die. Not unless they wanted the whole of Ferren to be destroyed. Only his signature and his verbal authorization to transfer the leadership of Ferren to their care would do the trick. Even then, he—or someone of his blood—still had to be alive.
Rupert knew his own weaknesses. He knew that if they’d managed to get their hands on Aurora—either of them—he might have relented. So he’d taken
precautions days ago, transferring the commands of the kingdom to Rory, in case he was ever captured. If they’d taken him out of these walls, he might have been a little more nervous, because there was no telling if the security system would have come to the right conclusion. But they’d chained him in his palace. From the corner of his eye, he’d seen dozens of security cameras taking in the situation. They’d done what he’d instructed, he was sure of it.
Aurora was queen of Ferren now—legally. If they got his signature, it would mean nothing. In a kingdom so heavily reliant on technology, there was no fooling anyone.
He smiled, knowing that if they’d managed to get their hands on her by now, they would have brought her to him. She was out of here; the security system would have prioritized her safety. Now it was just a matter of waiting until these idiots realized they’d played their cards and lost.
Like her suit, the sword and shield she wielded were made of something she couldn’t recognize; not quite magic, perhaps some science. Whatever it was, it certainly did the job, and good thing too, as those thorns were seriously attempting to kick her ass.
Her armor deflected or softened the blows she took; her sword cut through every branch in her way.
But it had been a long time, and she still didn’t see an end to the forest at all. There was no light ahead, although she could tell it was dawn now.
Aurora sighed and took a second to breathe, lowering her shield and sword. She frowned as the woods grew still around her.
Oh.
Slowly and carefully, she sheathed the sword in the guard on her belt and locked her shield on the hook she’d felt on her shoulder.
She held her arms up.
“No weapons,” said she. “I come in peace. Sorry I cut through so much wood.”
Nothing happened at first, and she felt quite silly for a beat. Then the thick woods before her parted, branches and trunks moving to leave a clear path out of the enchanted forest.
She breathed out before jogging ahead. Damn, everything hurt. Without the suit, she would have been dragging her heels.
She was out of the woods in no time, entering a land so beautiful it didn’t seem real. The sky had never appeared quite so colorful anywhere else. There were little lights floating around fountains, and fluffy, adorable creatures bathing, while others snored softly. A freaking unicorn drank nearby, and there was a bear. Aurora’s eyes widened, and she whispered, “Oh shit.”
The bear looked at her with no interest whatsoever.
She relaxed but moved along quickly.
It occurred to her that Rumpelstiltskin might have given her weapons to pull one on her; without them, she might have made it out of the woods much quicker. The idea had just crossed her mind when the evidence before her eyes made her dismiss it.
She’d arrived at a corner, and now she could see a magnificent castle made of dark, shimmering crystals. It was the single most imposing and gorgeous edifice her eyes had ever beheld.
She pulled her sword and took her shield, hiding her face behind it, protecting herself from the black dragon aiming right at her, spitting fire in her direction.
The fire hit her shield and her armor and parted, leaving her hot and scared out of her mind, but unscratched.
The dragon roared in protest and came down toward her, sharp talons outstretched menacingly.
Aurora jumped out of the way and hid behind a column, knowing how useless that was. Fuck. What now?
No fire came. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she guessed why. She was an intruder and the creature wanted to kill her, but it wouldn’t harm those who belonged here—the animals and beasts resting around her. Still, just because it wasn’t willing to set fire to their Eden, it didn’t mean that it wouldn’t find a way to kill her—eating her alive or clawing her until there were little pieces everywhere.
She gulped.
“I’m not here to fight you,” she screamed from behind her column, not daring to peek. “I’m not here to take your treasures or kill any beasts. I’m not a hero. Or a hunter, knight, poacher, you name it. I’m a freaking head scientist with a PhD in biochemistry. I’ve sat on my ass behind a computer calculating odds for the last half dozen years!”
No noise indicated whether the dragon was paying attention or not. But she was still alive, an encouraging thought.
“I’m Aurora Stephenson. My father, the regent of Ferren, spent years dismissing scientists when we said we could revive the king. So I took a chance and just did it.”
Steps. The huge creature was taking heaving, ground-shaking steps. Toward her.
She closed her eyes and bit her lips.
“Rupert made it. Only just. He said he kept on hoping Maleficent would hear about it and come help him. Give him a hand with his daughter. He was so sure she’d want to help. But something went wrong last night. He’s been captured, maybe even hurt, I don’t know. Some weird-ass robot got me out of the palace before the traitors could get to me and led me here. I just need to speak to Maleficent. Then I’ll be gone, I swear.”
It was close. So close. But the steps weren’t quite so heavy now. They were silent and, if possible, more threatening. Aurora’s heart beat so freaking fast as she turned to face the dragon.
It was still dark, still dangerous, still mystic. But it had now taken a very different shape.
A long skirt, falling to the ground. A tight leather corset. A cape floating behind a woman so painfully perfect watching her hurt.
She had dark horns coming out of her head, covered by a black metallic crown.
“Well, well,” said Maleficent. “Look what we have here.”
Chapter 19
The seelie queen was very different to Rumpelstiltskin. Wilder. Darker. Angrier. But against all logic or reason, Aurora found her heartbeat slow down the moment she met her eyes. Fear left her limbs. This was a formidable creature, no doubt—it just didn’t strike her as a foe.
“You’re a dragon,” she stated the obvious.
“I wish,” said the queen, laughing. “But not quite, no.” She could have fooled her. “So, you love Rupert,” she stated, making Aurora’s eyes widened. “Don’t look so surprised. I spent the last century meditating on that damn curse. I don’t think anything could have saved his life, other than True Love’s Kiss. My magic is too powerful to be thwarted by less.”
She blushed. True love? She’d certainly been quite infatuated with the sleeping, beautiful king. But that was quite a leap. Although now that she knew him, Aurora had to admit that she was indeed very, very close to falling.
All right, so she might have already gone ahead and jumped off that cliff a little while ago. But still. Didn’t mean that she’d loved him to begin with, did it?
“You have fay blood, little Cinder,” said Maleficent. “That’s what we call it now, and here, anyway. Magic blood coming right down from an ancestor that wasn’t human at all. That race came in pairs. Soul mates, you’d call it. Don’t try to rationalize things that are beyond your understanding. You love him. And a good thing too.” Her smile was downright wicked. “I know better than to give a chance to women who don’t deserve him now.”
Aurora’s head was going to explode. She concentrated on the least understandable part of her little speech. “Cinder?”
She knew of the Cinders—everyone did, now more than ever. The last Cinder, humans coming from the strongest line of fire-using fays, was Ella De Luz.
“You think I’m a Cinder?”
That made no sense. She had no magics, save for those two wishes she’d now used up. Cinderella could wave her hand and summon fire.
“Cinderella’s mother was one of three sisters—triplets. All born with fay blood aplenty. One was seelie, one was quite mortal, and the last, as unseelie as they come. Wild and reckless. Reckless enough to leave her baby at its father’s steps before disappearing.”
Aurora blinked, again, and again, and again. “You’re not serious.”
“Both courts have looked after you,”
she told her, somewhat defensively. “I sent Fae. That poser, Rumple, sent Petunia. We take care of our children.”
As Aurora’s entire world was flipped upside down, the seelie queen started walking away. Seeing that she wasn’t following, she turned and lifted a brow. “Well, are you coming? Seems like we have a kingdom to save.”
“You’re kidding,” Stephenson groaned, when his men reported what they’d just found out.
“Every access code has changed. We can’t even enter the Council chambers, let alone the king’s office. When Rench tried to take the crown, he was stopped by…”
Rupert smiled.
“Well?”
“Statues, sir. The statues next to the throne. They… move.”
Poor souls.
Before the traitor could regain his wits, a panicked guard rushed in, fear emanating from his every pore.
“What now?” Stephenson practically screamed.
The guard only said one word, half whisper, half cry.
“Dragon.”
One second passed before they all started to run.
Rupert got to his feet, shaking his head. He walked out as they’d left the cell open, hands still tied behind his back.
When he’d reached the first statues at the bottom of the tower, he asked, “Has the whole thing been filmed?”
The automaton wasn’t equipped with vocal function—an older model, no doubt—but it inclined its head.
Rupert turned and moved his wrists. “Can you help with this?”
The machine fiddled with the bonds until his wrists were free.
He could have put a halt to the whole thing quite easily. One word and the men who’d come to target him would have been stopped. But this wasn’t about taking care of one lot of enemies—it was a necessary reminder to everyone who’d presume to fight him.
He was probably not the best leader in a world he didn’t quite understand yet. He’d try his best, but it would take time. None of that mattered. This was his domain. His kingdom. And attempting to take it off his hands was pointless.
