"Then we're stuck," I said, feeling hopeless. "All we have to go on is the trail of blood." And words from a talking unicorn. “The unicorns might just be the next valley over, but they could just as easily have flown to some island miles and miles away. Or gone south. Or north.”
The point was, there was very little direction to be had.
Jay resumed his seat and looked at me excitedly. “Hold on. I told you that the library was only my first stop. I thought we were stuck too, at first. So my next stop was to a tavern to get myself a beer and think it over."
I arched an eyebrow. “‘Think it over?’” I air-quoted skeptically.
He shrugged. "Or drown my sorrows about the matter. Whatever you'd like to call it. Anyway, I don’t know if you remember John McKenna?”
I shook my head and he waved a hand. “I didn’t expect you to, really. He’s the older man who drives the carriage that delivers grain to the palace and sometimes straw down to the staviary. You probably only met him once or twice. But I’ve met him more than a few times, so he recognized me and claimed the bar stool next to me, clinked his glass, and asked what I was doing in the city. I don't get down there too often.”
I nodded, following along. It wasn’t like Jay to go to a bar. He wasn’t the drinking type usually.
“So I was feeling a little down and looking into those smiling blue eyes in this friendly wrinkled face, I just thought—what the hell? Why not? So I told him."
My eyes shot open wide. "You told—"
He raised his hands to proclaim his innocence, seeing where my assumptions had leapt. "Not about the unicorns."
My heartbeat calmed down. Good. The last thing we needed was a citywide panic about the vanishing unicorns. Some of our citizens were a superstitious lot. They would jump to all sorts of conclusions if they knew. It would be like the gods abandoning us to an elaborate unicorn racing ring, run and covered up by the royal family. Vale and the unicorns were practically synonymous. I questioned our kingdom’s identity without them.
"But,” Jay said, “I did tell him that I was in the city trying to find out about something called Rumpelstiltskin. And Eliana... he knew the name.”
I sucked in a startled breath as Jay continued.
“He choked on his beer and asked me to repeat myself. And when I did, he looked at me, pale-faced. He immediately downed the rest of his drink and thumped it down on the counter, hollering for the barkeep to bring him another.”
Jay put a hand to his head, eyes far away as he relived the conversation.
“And when he got it, he looked down into his glass and said, ‘I had hoped to never to hear that name again.’ He gathered himself, then looked at me, and croaked, ‘Rumpelstiltskin is not a something. It's a someone. And if you've never met him, you should count yourself as gods-blessed.’”
A him. My mind sang out with the realization. It wasn’t just a song. It was a man. And Rumpelstiltskin was his name. My mind whirled. And a cocky enough man too, if he was singing his name while he committed a heinous crime. He had to have been confident he wouldn’t be overheard. Or—a chill went through me—been certain that there was nothing anyone could do about it even if they did figure out who he was.
"How did he know this Rumpelstiltskin?" I asked. There were no problems with my attention span now. My eyes were locked onto Jay and there was no chance I was looking away until I heard the end of this story. He’d taken the hopelessness I’d felt about this quest and was spinning it into gold. A golden promise—at last we’d learn the true source of Rumpelstiltskin.
Jay took a shaky breath. “It was more than fifty years ago, he said."
Fifty years ago? My brow crinkled, trying to do the math. That didn't make sense to me. I knew that Jay said that this John McKenna was old, but if his Rumpelstiltskin was the same one as ours, that would have to make the culprit around seventy years old at least. And I had a hard time imagining an elderly man laying traps for unicorns. The bending alone was bound to make a senior citizen's back seize up. I knew men half that age who couldn’t handle that much leaning over.
But I let Jay carry on with his story, not pointing out these inconsistencies yet. We'd figure out the “how” of it all—later.
At last, it seemed, we were finally getting closer to the “who” of it all.
"At first, he tried to keep his story simple. He wanted to just tell me that Rumpelstiltskin was a slippery character who helped him out of a sticky situation a long time ago. That was all he wanted to say. But I pressed and after a little more persuasion and—” Jay shot me a secret little smile “—after buying him a couple more beers—he gave me a bit more detail.”
“Rumpelstiltskin is in the business of making bargains,” Jay explained. “When my friend was a young man, he and his new wife and child had been in an impossible situation.” Jay shrugged. “That, I didn’t ask about. Figured that part of the story didn’t matter much and I’d pried into the poor guy’s private affairs enough already. But when he had nowhere else to turn, this Rumpelstiltskin was the only one who gave him a way out.
“At the time, he said, all he remembered feeling when the situation was taken care of was relief. He'd been so grateful that he babbled his thanks for Rumpelstiltskin agreeing to take his burden on. John agreed to give him whatever he asked for.” Jay’s eyes turned down as he shook his head.
“The poor guy. He thought it was just an expression, no more than a simple turn of phrase. He didn't know that for Rumpelstiltskin, saying that was as good as a binding, verbal contract.
“Then the task was completed. And the time came for payment.”
“What did he want?” I asked, fully drawn into the story.
Jay spread his hands in a helpless shrug. “Everything. Rumpelstiltskin asked for all of their livestock in return. Every last cow, sheep, and chicken. Of course, they immediately refused and tried to clarify their initial agreement. Rumpelstiltskin could have whatever he wanted—within reason. But taking their livestock wasn’t reasonable. It was how they earned a living. Without it, they’d land in the poorhouse. They tried to make him see reason.”
Jay huffed out a breath. “And then, to hear John tell it, something turned then in the friendly fellow who had been so willing to help them. He flew into a rage. He demanded he be paid what he asked for, as the initial terms they’d set out guaranteed. They'd agreed, he’d bellowed. Whatever he asked for. He left their house with the intent of heading straight for their livestock. Of course, John tried to stop him and he turned on him next. He moved so swiftly that they never even saw the weapon.” Jay exhaled shakily. "I'd always wondered how he'd lost that hand."
I let out a soft cry and my hands went to my mouth.
A missing hand. I did know who John McKenna was now. I could picture his face with his friendly blue eyes beneath white hair that peeked out beneath the cap he’d worn the few times our paths had crossed. I had wondered about that missing hand too, but I would never have asked him about it. I guess I had my answer now. But wished that I didn’t.
“John said the pain was blinding so he didn’t remember much after that. His wife rushed him to a healer, but she told him that Rumpelstiltskin just cackled and called it interest.” Jay’s lip was curled into an expression of distaste. “He took the hand with him.”
Bile rose up in my throat at Jay’s story. I’d never heard anything so horrific in my whole life. What kind of sick mind must Rumpelstiltskin have to even contemplate such horrors?
“And even taking that from them didn’t stop him. To this day, John isn't sure how he did it—their gates had already been padlocked shut that night. The key was still in its place on a hook. But when his wife returned home to fetch payment for the healer the next morning while John slept in the healer’s bed, all of their livestock was gone.
“He destroyed their livelihood. Left them penniless. They had to sell the house and land. His wife got sick, but they had little money for doctors and she soon passed. And, while his son lived, he b
lamed his father for their lot in life. He left Vale and John hasn’t even seen him in twenty years.”
My hand went to my throat. Jay’s story was getting worse and worse. A part of me wanted to cover Fae’s ears so as she wouldn’t hear it, but I knew how ridiculous that was. She was asleep and wouldn’t understand Jay’s words anyway. It didn’t stop me from wanting to shield her from the horror, though. Maybe that was what my mother had been doing for me all these years. Shielding me from all the bad in the world.
“At the end of the story, he told me that if I was really set on looking for Rumpelstiltskin, if and when I find him, I must make absolutely sure not to barter, bargain, or trade with him unless I was prepared to lose everything I held dear. The price is never worth it," Jay said, his face grim.
I couldn’t find the words to speak for a moment. “Poor Mr. McKenna,” I said softly.
“Yeah,” Jay said. “You’d never know from how nice he is what a hard time of it he’s had.”
"That's awful," I said slowly. My mind tried to turn over what I’d learned, but it was so much to absorb so quickly. But one thing stood out to me and failed to make sense. Rumpelstiltskin made bargains. But I didn’t think that mattered in this case. I didn’t think an agreement could have been struck that would get us into the situation we were in now.
"But Jay—we haven't made a deal. We've never even met this man. So he has to be operating on his own accord. No one would have the authority to promise him the unicorns. And I don't know of anyone who would be horrible enough to try."
"You're right,” he said. “But that's not my point. Don’t you get it?” He pointed back in the direction of the palace. His finger was like a knife, stabbing toward it. His eyes were fierce on mine and I couldn’t look away. “The point is, we know his name. We may not have known who he was, or what he did, but we damn well know his name, Eliana."
His name. The images danced through my mind. Of my nursery. My rooms growing up. The word splayed across my walls, framed as art. Jay and I shrieking it during a round of hide and go seek as children, growing into teenagers and using it as a creative swear. The stupid decor, the made up word that hadn’t even been made up at all, but a warning of its own.
And my mother. My mother's pale face and tight lips as she made me promise to never forget it. As she pressed upon me how important it was. The shattered plate on the floor when I’d questioned her about it the other night, her hands on my shoulders demanding to know who had sung that word where I might overhear.
It was all so clear now. She wasn’t so much worried that I’d uncover her secret.
No… she was afraid of something else.
She was afraid Rumpelstiltskin was back.
And that explained why Jay was acting so odd about talking in the palace too. He was worried that our discussion would get back to her before we could see what we made of it all.
I lifted my eyes to Jay's, stunned by the revelation.
"My mother."
He nodded, his arm slowly descending from its accusatory direction toward the castle.
I swallowed, feeling sick, repeating it.
“My mother. My mother had to have made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin.”
Throne of Sacrifice
1
5th May
“He told me that if I was really set on looking for Rumpelstiltskin, I must make absolutely sure not to barter, bargain, or trade with him unless I was prepared to lose everything I held dear. The price is never worth it.”
The memory of Jay’s voice echoed in my mind as I swept through the palace, fists clenched at my sides, anger burning a flame within my chest. Courtiers and servants bid me a good morning with cheery grins on their faces, used to being greeted with the same in return from me. But that wasn’t what they got today. Oh, no, today they backed away hastily when I turned to them, an uncharacteristic scowl on my face.
If word spread of this, no one would be calling me the Unicorn Princess for long. That moniker brought to mind someone serene, someone gentle and pure of heart like the unicorns themselves. I didn’t exactly feel like I fit the bill right now. I felt as though I could breathe fire, like a dragon, if the wrong person looked at me the wrong way today.
They would be innocent victims if they were to step into my path. After all, it was hardly their fault. They couldn’t have known the information I’d learned yesterday. How could they possibly be expected to guess how the news had shaken me to my core?
At a fast clip, blindly, I turned a corner, then another one, my feet quickly finding their way in a palace I knew as well as the back of my hand. Good thing, too. My eyes were open, but I had to admit that I wasn’t really seeing the pathways before me. My mind’s eye was too busy remembering the expression on Jay’s face—pale and deeply disturbed as he told me of everything a man had lost at the hands of the man named Rumpelstiltskin.
“But Jay,” I’d said when he’d explained how Rumpelstiltskin had a reputation of dire bargains where his partners in trade almost always came off worse than he did. “We haven't made a deal. We've never even met this man. So he has to be operating on his accord. No one would have the authority to promise him the unicorns. And I don't know of anyone who would be horrible enough to try."
“Don’t you get it? The point is, we know his name. We may not have known who he was, or what he did, but we damn well knew his name, Eliana.”
And just like that, all of the pieces had fallen into place like the simplest puzzle. I did know the word Rumpelstiltskin. Not its meaning or who it belonged to, but I had grown up with the word. There was one person who had made sure it was a part of my vocabulary by decorating the walls of my childhood bedroom with it.
My mother. My mother had to have made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin.
“Your Highness!” A shout echoed down the hallway after me. Not long after that, the sound of panting and clanking weapons reached my ears as my guards, Avery and Williamson, jogged to keep up with me. “Your Highness,” Avery repeated in a huff, face growing red with exertion.
Williamson picked up the thread of conversation that Avery had dropped. “We thought you were still in your chambers.”
“Oh?” I said, uncaring. Mechanically, my feet turned another corner, and the men kept pace with me. We were almost to my parents’ rooms now. My blood thrummed with the promise of the inevitable conversation. At last, I’d have my answers, one way or another.
“Ye-es.” He sounded annoyed.
I couldn’t blame him. I probably would have been irritated if I were in his shoes too. But I had my own problems to deal with. Didn’t we all?
“We thought that because,” Williamson continued, “you told us you wouldn’t leave until at least the normal breakfast time.” He didn’t specifically admonish me, but it was implicit in his tone; Williamson’s voice sounded as if he was gritting his teeth. Probably regretting the day that he and his partner were saddled with the duty of babysitting the rebellious princess. Well, the two men were fine and upstanding fellows, but their job still grated against my principles. I wanted my independence, so I didn’t much like it either.
“My mistake,” I said. I was flippant, not even bothering to try and pretend to cover up the out-and-out lie. I knew that I wasn’t fooling either of them or sparing their feelings, as they knew they couldn’t trust me. Trust was a valuable currency. They were better off learning not to just give it away as I had.
But that was too bad. I was going to speak to my mother today, and I was going to do it now—or as soon as humanly possible, anyway. Jay had convinced me to wait a day. I wouldn’t wait any longer.
I reached the door to my parents’ bedrooms and nodded curtly at the single guard stationed outside their chambers—her favored man, Hardy. He’d grown up with my father and been with my parents since he was old enough to enter royal service.
“Princess Eliana,” he said. His caterpillar eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Is your mother expecting you? She hasn’t mentioned
any visitors. I don’t think she expected to see you in between any occasions when you dined together today.”
“Can’t a daughter pay her mother an unscheduled visit?” I smiled and made it as saccharine as I could. But Hardy wasn’t fooled. The fact that he’d been with my parents so long meant that he’d seen me grow up. And he could occasionally figure out when I was lying or playing at sweetness in order to get what I wanted like I was today.
Hardy slid a cautious glance behind me to my guards. I turned my head enough that, out of the corner of my eye, I could see Avery shrug helplessly and mouth “No idea.”
But Hardy seemed to decide that whatever business I had with my mother, it was a matter between mother and daughter. Oh, if only he knew. It was a matter that may well have concerned the entire kingdom.
Finally, he stepped aside so that I had unbarred access to her door.
I lifted my hand and paused for a moment, looking over at him. Just the one man outside the King and Queen of Vale’s rooms.
It had never escaped my notice that my parents had perilously few personal guards. Sometimes, my mother allowed me to be unescorted—although those days seem to be over now—but whenever I had an armed escort, it was always at least two guards.
My mother wasn’t half so concerned with her safety or my father’s as she was with mine. I had always thought it a strange thing. Yes, I was the heir to the throne, and it made a certain amount of sense for my safety to be thought of, but they were the ruling monarchs. Surely their safety should take a great deal of precedence over mine. Vale would be left in a lurch without them. I was a long way away from being ready to inherit the crown and keys to the kingdom.
My mother had hand-waved away such questions, citing Vale’s history of a low crime rate as the reason they didn’t have a larger personal guard. I’d told her that explained absolutely nothing. If anything, it should have meant that if she just had one guard, I should have had no guards at all.
Eliana: Remembering Rumpelstiltskin (Kingdom of Fairytales Boxset Book 5) Page 15
