Eliana: Remembering Rumpelstiltskin (Kingdom of Fairytales Boxset Book 5)

by J. A. Armitage

  I summoned Avery and Williamson, and by summoned, I mean that I walked to the door and poked my head outside my suite of rooms to tell them where I was heading. As expected, they saluted and followed me as I carried Fae from my room, strapped, once again, in her sling.

  After a detour to drop Fae off with Mother, I headed outside, flanked by my trusty guards.

  I found Jay in the staviary, exactly where I’d hoped he would be. It was where he spent most of his time, even if he wasn’t technically on duty. Jay didn’t have the bond with the flying steeds that I did, but he certainly cared about them just as much.

  Jay’s face lit up when he saw me, but it fell a fraction of an inch as he scanned my empty arms and met my eyes, looking both disappointed and reproachful all at once. “No Fae?” he asked.

  “She’s with Mother. Not today.” I shook my head.

  He splayed his arms wide at his side. “But Fae wants to see Uncle Jay!”

  “You’re a poet,” I said, grinning at him.

  “That I am. A true wordsmith. You love me for it.”

  My heart leapt to my throat as that word—love. It seemed to swim through the air, etch itself into the ether, and then squirm into my insides, where it burrowed in. I wouldn’t have thought much of it, not too long ago. I was more than willing to admit that I loved Jay. I still did. Only these days, I wasn’t sure exactly how I loved him. In what way.

  Jay’s smile faded, his wide grin vanishing when he realized I was no longer laughing. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head and forced a smile to my lips. One that became genuine when I saw the warmth and worry in his eyes. “Nothing,” I said. “It’s nothing. It’s a nice day to check on the unicorns, though. Do you want to take a walk down to the meadows with me and check on the traps—or I guess I should say, the hopeful lack thereof? The boys are coming too.” I gestured to Avery and Williamson, who were idling by the entrance to the staviary. Avery cocked a hip to the side, and Williamson gave Jay a flippy little wave in hello.

  Jay nodded back. “Hello,” he said solemnly.

  “Lead the way,” he said to me with that damnable little head tilt of his that he did.

  It made his hair fall into his eyes, casting them into the slightest shadow so that the light that did still hit them made them look as though they sparkled.

  It also made my heart skip a bit.

  In no particular hurry to get there, we took our time, strolling over the grass and through the flowers. The grass crunched beneath our feet and bees buzzed from flower to flower, collecting their pollen and bypassing the buds that had yet to open. Despite my resentment of the sun this morning for daring to wake before I’d really been ready to, now I relished the warmth of its rays on my skin.

  The skies were clear. It was a beautiful day. And this was the perfect place to be.

  And—I snuck a look at Jay—the company was about as good as it got.

  The farther we walked from the palace, the more the tightness in my chest seemed to ease. I hadn’t even realized it had been there.

  Everything that had weighed heavily on me, pulling me down, I was leaving behind, if only for a short while. My mother and the endless arguments, the burden of motherhood, the constant worry that I was going crazy.

  The only thing that wasn’t weighing me down was Jay. I’d expected a walk with him to be fraught with worry about how he felt, about how I felt, but I found I was just enjoying his company.

  Jay cast me a curious look. “You all right? You’re quiet. Which is weird for you.”

  “No one knows weird better than you. You’re the expert,” I said playfully, sneaking another peek at him, taking in his strong profile, the shape of his jaw.

  He really was a good-looking guy. How had I not noticed just how good-looking before now?

  We made it to the hill where we’d found so many traps. I nodded a greeting to the guard on duty. He wiped his brow as he dropped the salute he’d assumed when he saw that I was with Jay, Avery, and Williamson. “Your Highness,” he greeted. “You honor me with your visit.”

  “At ease,” I said with a smile. The poor guy looked more nervous to be meeting me than he did to be overseeing the meadow.

  He relaxed a fraction, his posture a little less rigid now. Below his helmet, a bead of sweat dripped onto his upper lip. “Phew,” he said. “It’s warm out today.”

  It was. I had broken into a light sweat myself, but I didn’t mind. In fact, I relished it. “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Carson, ma’am.” He almost flinched at his own voice. His hand spasmed like he had to force it to stay at his side instead of flying to his head for a salute.

  “Any sign of trouble, Carson?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light and friendly.

  He shook his head vigorously. “Not a lick of it, Your Highness. No prowlers except for a young couple with a picnic. No traps to find anything caught in. And the unicorns themselves have been quiet too.”

  That twanged a string of discord within me. It didn’t sound right. “Exactly how quiet are we talking?” I asked. Dread built within me.

  He exchanged a look with Avery and Williamson, as if to see if they thought this line of questioning was as strange as he did. They only shrugged in response as if to say, Beats us.“Well…” he drew out the word. “I guess that I mean I haven’t seen hide nor horn of them in my last two shifts.”

  Jay, however, saw exactly where I was going. He swore under his breath, but I held up a hand for quiet, heart suddenly pounding. Hope wasn’t lost. “Do you consider yourself an observant man, Carson?” I asked.

  I’d thought his spine looked rigid before. Now, it was like a steel rod. From his reaction, my question had obviously offended him. And I was sorry if that was the case, but I had to know.

  “Yes,” he said curtly, not bothering to tack on a formal address. “I’m an observant man. Soldiers in the palace guard are rarely simpletons.”

  I ignored that little bit of bitterness to press him further. “What about your partner? The man on the night shift. Has he had any unicorn sightings?”

  “No, ma’am?” The end of his statement lifted it into a question. The offense had left his voice as it seemed he’d cottoned on to the fact that something was greatly amiss. “Why?”

  This time, when Jay swore a blue streak, it wasn’t at all under his breath, but loud—it would shake the leaves from the trees if he wasn’t careful.

  My hands shook with the revelation. I could hardly blame him for his reaction, but my turmoil stayed inside.

  Why had I waited so long? Why hadn’t I come sooner?

  Unicorns were shy creatures, that was true. They didn’t often approach many humans. But they were also innately curious creatures. They never could resist at least peeking at us from a safe distance. And usually, during their peeking, we’d catch a glimpse of them right back. The fact that Carson and his partner hadn’t even seen light glinting off a unicorn’s horn in days was… well… Disturbing was putting it too lightly for my tastes.

  That had to mean that the unicorns weren’t here at all—not in the meadow that was their home. Why would they leave it? What could make them do such a thing? Not just one of them, but all of them?

  They’d either been captured… or they’d been chased away by something.

  I swallowed hard and couldn’t help the word that leaped into my mind. Rumpelstiltskin.

  The singing trap-layer had to be behind this. It was too great a coincidence for those events to happen so close together. I mean, one day, traps intended to injure the unicorns of Vale were laid, something that had never been done before. And a couple of days later the unicorns just up and disappeared? I didn’t believe it could be a coincidence.

  I had only questions, no answers, but I thought I knew someone who might.

  “We should go check on the unicorns in the staviary,” I told Jay. “If the meadow unicorns are gone, they could be next.”

  He nodded, worry crinkling
his brow. “Eliana.” He caught my arm as I moved past him and lifted worry-filled eyes to mine. “Who would do this?”

  I lifted his hand and twined my fingers with his, and gave them what I hoped was a comforting squeeze. I tried to smile for his benefit. “I wish I knew,” I said softly.

  Not officially dismissed from his post, Carson stayed in the meadow, but the rest of us raced to the staviary. Avery and Williamson checked the perimeter while Jay and I went inside.

  There, we found Zacarina with her head protruding from the top of her stall as though she’d heard us coming. I let out a relieved breath when I saw her. I’d worried that whatever had gotten to the meadow unicorns had stolen her and Baby away too. At least, we could still try to keep the two of them safe.

  “There is a wild energy to you, child,” the unicorn said. “What has happened?”

  I stalled, not wanting to answer her in Jay’s earshot. I didn’t want to waste time on explanations of why I was talking to a unicorn as though she could actually understand me.

  “You go check on Baby,” I instructed Jay. “I’ll stay here with her mother.”

  He nodded and set off toward Baby’s stall at a sprint.

  The moment he was out of earshot, I told Zacarina what we’d learned. “Do you know where they would go?”

  “Who?”

  The splinter of hope I’d been carrying fractured. She didn’t know any more than we did.

  “The other unicorns are gone,” I stressed, splaying my arms apart and widening my eyes.

  Zacarina made a “tch” sound and tossed her head disdainfully. “You’re mistaken,” she told me. “We do not leave the meadows. Or at least, we do not stray far from them.”

  This distracted me for a moment. “You don’t?”

  “We do not. There is a bond between us and this land. We can break it if we so choose, but it would be unheard of. And for it to be broken by another… that would take a dark magic indeed. And our herd would not leave me and my offspring behind.”

  A chill lanced through me. “Zacarina, you know the meadows, right?”

  “I do.” She arched a brow over her golden eye as though to ask, “What of it?”

  I continued. “So then, you know that at certain spots, you can see all over the hills and valleys.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “I know those meadows as well as you do, Zacarina. And I’m telling you—I could see far from my vantage point. And I did not see a single unicorn today besides you and the others in this Staviary. They’re gone.”

  Her eyes widened. “Gone… where?”

  That was certainly the question, wasn’t it?

  4

  2nd May

  "Gone... where?"

  The next day, Zacarina's words echoed in my mind like a shout bouncing around an empty room. Jay and I had gone back to the meadow and searched for any trace of them. We’d checked the woods, the valley, the hills. We’d been out all afternoon and not seen a hint of a unicorn. It was as if they had all vanished into thin air.

  Despite the fact that there hadn't been evidence of any traps, I felt sure that the person or creature who laid the traps was to blame. It was too big of a coincidence to believe that they weren't.

  I tugged on my boots, arranged my hair into a braid, and rang for Judith to watch Fae. I’d pumped as much milk as I could last night for bottles for my daughter. I hated to be away from her all day, but this time, I was going to use all of the resources that I had at my disposal. And Fae’s nursemaid was one of them.

  A knock came at the door, and I gave permission for Avery and Williamson to let Judith inside.

  She curtsied as she entered the room. Surprise and confusion were written clearly across her expression. I hadn’t requested a nursemaid since the day of the dance lesson, preferring to look after Fae as much as possible on my own.

  “Your Highness!” she said as she stood back up. “You rang for assistance?”

  "Yes," I said. "I wondered if you may be available to watch over the Princess Fae today.”

  Her eyes lit up, and a smile bloomed across her face. "I'd be delighted! Any way that I can assist Her Highnesses would be very much my pleasure. I’ve been wondering when you’d call on my services again. I’ve missed the princess Fae. She’s such a beauty.”

  “She is one cute baby, that’s for sure.”

  I took Judith about my suite of rooms and gave her a quick run-down of where she could find everything she might need. Where she could find the bottles I'd pumped, where the burp cloths, blankets, extra diapers, and other changing supplies were. I knew by the smile on Judith’s lips that she thought I was being more than a little overbearing, but I still wasn’t used to leaving Fae. I had to restrain myself from demonstrating Fae's different cries and telling her what they meant. The woman was a professional. She'd figure it out. There were only so many things she would need in the hours I’d be away from her. Fae would be perfectly fine in Judith’s care.

  I caressed Fae’s cheek and bit my lip. Her little lashes rested upon her cheeks.

  She’ll hardly know you’re gone, I told myself.

  I wrenched myself away from the bassinet’s side and cleared my throat. “I’ll be in the library if you need me," I told Judith.

  Quickly, I walked away, but I paused at the door, heartstrings tugging at me as I watched the nursemaid settle into the rocking chair, hands folded across her middle as Fae slept. I slowly closed the door to my suite behind me as I left Fae in Judith’s capable hands.

  When I entered the library, I hadn't brought Mr. Swink a bribe this time. His eyes eagerly searched my empty hands, and his face fell. I could see that he wanted to ask, but couldn't bring himself to. I smiled at him, anticipating the unasked question. "Go down to the kitchens later and tell Mrs. Bellon I sent you," I told him. “She promised me cookies for dessert with dinner this evening, and I told her to set a couple aside for you.”

  He nodded, pink overtaking his features again as he gave me an embarrassed smile. “I would never presume—but thank you. It’s much appreciated. I didn’t expect you back again already, Your Highness. Is there anything I could help you with?"

  I paused. Perhaps, he could help me. After all, I didn't need to tell him where I'd heard of Rumpelstiltskin. I just needed to know if he had. He had been the palace’s Master Librarian for as long as I could remember. Which meant that he'd had his hands on more of these books than anyone else.

  "Actually, maybe you can," I said.

  Mr. Swink set aside the books in front of him and clasped his hands. He looked at me expectantly, giving me his full undivided attention.

  "Have you ever heard of a song called ‘Rumpelstiltskin’?" I asked. "Actually—I’ll be honest, I’m not even completely sure that that's the title of the song. But I know it's in the lyrics of the song." I tried to make the question casual, not too overeager. But despite my attempts to stay calm, my pulse beat a tattoo in my throat. This was the closest I’d come yet to telling someone what Zacarina had told me. I could hardly believe that I was telling Mr. Swink, of all people.

  He hemmed and hawed, thinking it over, but finally, he shook his head. "Hmmm. I can't say that I have. Do you know anything more about it? Kingdom of origin? Composer? Anything like that? It may give you another research angle to find it.”

  The brief hope that had flared was extinguished. I sighed, let down. "I'm afraid that’s all I know,” I said glumly.

  And gods, did I ever wish that I had anything more to go on than what I had. It would make my search a hell of a lot easier.

  He smiled at me sympathetically. "Music is not my area of expertise, I'm afraid. I did help with the intake of the books in that section to a certain extent, but largely our music collection was built by..."

  "My mother." I finished his sentence.

  I knew that. I knew it well. I just didn't want to give her anything more to worry about when it came to me. And she would worry. It was in her nature. She tended to latch on
to the smallest thing and blow it way out of proportion. I knew if I asked her about Rumpelstiltskin, I’d be bound to the palace until my hair turned white.

  I’d just gotten to go to the meadows again. I was loath to do anything that might make her place further restrictions on me.

  But between her music knowledge and the fact that she'd used the word my entire life, she had to know something.

  I mulled that over on my walk back to the music shelves. I’d handed the books I'd borrowed back to Mr. Swink. I knew he’d want to see them safely back to their proper places himself. I had managed to get through all three of them in the time that had passed since I'd last been in the library.

  I set my things down at a table and got down to business once again.

  I pulled book after book after book from the shelves and pored over their texts. Time and time again, I was only disappointed by no mention of Rumpelstiltskin in any of their pages. At one point, my heart had nearly leaped clean out of my chest when I thought I saw it once—but the book only referenced a composer named Rumpleschtein. Apparently, he had been known for his attempts in the melding of two music genres—usually, the critics said, extremely unsuccessfully.

  Despondently, I shut the last book, replaced it in the stack, and glanced outside. The sun was starting to set over the valleys outside, casting them in a golden glow as it outlined the hills in light. That meant it would be dark soon, and the library would be closing. I'd save Mr. Swink the trouble of kicking me out. Neatly, I put away the books on my table and pulled some more from the shelves to take with me for evening reading.

  I’d keep on with it, but this felt like a fruitless pursuit. I was beginning to fear that I would never find Rumpelstiltskin.

  I looked down at the books in my bag forlornly. I'd keep on trudging along, I supposed, but unless a miracle happened, I couldn't keep on going like this. I hadn't stumbled upon Rumpelstiltskin yet, and I'd barely even made a dent in the “R” authors of the music section. How much longer would it be before I found a mention of it? Days? Weeks? Months? Years?