by Quinn Loftis
“Sir Thomas, it is good to see you. The king awaits you in the throne room,” he said. “Follow me.”
I was forced to slacken my pace. The steward wasn’t going to break decorum because I was in a hurry. I fidgeted as I walked, willing the man to move faster. Finally, we approached the throne room doors, which two guards swung open at our approach.
“King Albric, the men you dispatched to the barbarians have returned. And they’ve brought your nephew along with an…emissary.”
I glanced sidelong at the steward, but I kept my quip to myself. Albric rose to greet us. The man seemed to have aged a decade since I’d last seen him. His face was etched with worry, and his eyes were hollow.
“Thomas,” the king said as he opened his arms to his nephew. They embraced, then Thomas stepped back beside me. “Welcome, Brant…I believe? I recall you from before. Thank you for coming all this way.”
I nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty. We have much to discuss.”
“Please, Brant, before we discuss anything else. How are my daughters? Tell me they’re well.”
Swallowing thickly, I put on a mask of impassivity. “They are in good health, Your Majesty.”
He looked at Thomas as if for confirmation of my words.
Thomas nodded.
It would be the first of many lies I would tell the king that day.
“When that small voice in your head that annoys you talks…it’s probably a good idea not to argue with it and give it your full attention. Lest you end up like me…”
~Dayna Auvray
Something cold splashed across my face. Gasping, I sat up, even as I felt the water begin to run down my neck and chest. I nearly screamed as a sharp pain in my ribs kept me from jumping to my feet. Well, whatever painful spell the witch had inflicted upon me hadn’t gotten any better since our little march through the woods. Great. I had to force myself to take short breaths.
Gisele’s loomed over me, fury in her eyes. She glared with such malice I was a little concerned she might set me ablaze with merely the hatred burning in her gaze, then threw an empty bucket that clattered off the wall of the hut.
“If I don’t get to sleep, then neither do you,” the witch spat.
“You told me not to touch anything or to try to escape,” I snapped. “That didn’t leave me much to do. Sorry, I got a little bored, okay? Besides, the human body can only take so much damage before it has to shut down.”
“I’m here now, and I don’t give a rat’s ass about your fragile human body. Either toughen up or die.”
“I’ll get right on that,” I grumbled. I watched as Gisele stomped, literally stomped, like a child throwing a fit, while slamming books and jars on a small counter pitted with gouge marks and stained with a myriad of colors, from bright acid green to a blood-red crimson so dark it almost black. I shuddered to think about what had caused the latter marks. The woman had been a giant ball of fluff and sunshine before she’d left. Now, though, the cheeriness was almost too much for me to bear.
“Did you have a bad morning? Perhaps your evil schemes aren’t going as well as you planned?”
“You know nothing,” she snarled.
“I know you’re acting like a rooster with its neck in the farmer’s grip.”
“How was I to know his half-wit brother would show up and highjack the princess?” Gisele muttered. She was no longer speaking to me. In fact, it was almost as if I no longer existed. So, I just sat back and listened to see if I could glean any helpful information.
Gisele picked up a small black cauldron, a miniature of the one that was currently hanging in the hearth. She started opening those bottles with the weird, swirling liquids, then pouring various amounts in the cauldron. Then she reached up to one of the baskets that hung above the counter, pulling down an honest-to-gods dead blackbird. When she picked up a wicked-looking knife, I stared, oddly fascinated. I watched as she spread one of the bird’s wings and brought the knife down in a fluid motion, cleanly separating the wing from the body.
Gisele tossed the rest of the bird into the basket, then reached into another container. She pulled out a snake, but it was most definitely not dead. Had I known I’d been sleeping in the same room with the serpent, I might’ve been keener on escaping earlier. It wrapped its body around her arm, constantly coiling and uncoiling itself. All the while, its tongue darted in and out as it peered around at its surroundings. In my mind, I imagined he was searching for something to strike at. Vile creatures, snakes.
“Aren’t you a sweet pet?” Gisele cooed to the serpent.
I snorted. “If by sweet, you mean ‘wants to bite your face,’ then I suppose it could be considered sweet,” I muttered.
The witch uncoiled the creature from her arm before setting it down on the counter. It began to glide away, but it was stopped mid-slither when Gisele’s knife hand came down a second time. She severed it, almost exactly in half, with one clean stroke. She picked up the two halves, both still wriggling wildly in death throes, and tossed them into the cauldron.
Apparently, that’s what happens to creatures in Gisele’s care that she considers sweet.
By the time the witch was done chucking things into her mini-cauldron, I was genuinely curious about what she was trying to concoct. But then my stomach sank. What if she wanted me to drink it? Being forced to drink a disgusting witch’s brew seemed like just my luck.
Gisele muttered some words under her breath, then sliced her hand and held it over the mixture. A line of crimson rose quickly. The woman’s blood dripped into the caldron, hissing as it splattered on the surface of the dark liquid within. Acrid smoke rose from the cauldron and permeated the cabin, causing me to gag.
“That cannot be good,” I whispered.
Gisele’s eyes suddenly snapped to where I sat on the ground. “Thirsty?”
My eyes widened. Great. “Not at all,” I replied. “Actually, I just had a huge drink of water earlier. I’m very refreshed. Thank you for the offer, though.”
“Oh, but I insist,” Gisele practically purred like a cat that had just found a dead bird she wanted to roll around in. She grabbed an earthenware cup from a shelf, then dipped it into the cauldron. Putting one hand on her hip, she held the cup out to me.
“It’s very thoughtful of you to include me in whatever witchy spell you have brewing there, but I am more than okay to be left out. It won’t hurt my feelings at all, believe me,” I said. I tried to swallow, but a knot of fear had formed in my throat.
“Oh, come now,” Gisele said. “It’s not polite to decline your hostess’ hospitality. Just take a little drink.”
“I’m going to have to staunchly decline.” I clamped my lips shut as if that would somehow prevent the witch from getting the disgusting liquid in me. At this point, I would try anything. I made to scoot backward, but my back collided with the damnable wall behind me.
She glared down at me as if I were an errant child who had just refused to eat my dinner.
“This would be so much easier if you would just do as you’re told,” the witch spat, all sanguinity gone.
Yep, an errant child, I thought as I shook my head. “I’m sorry, but I made a commitment to myself that I would never make a witch’s life easier by simply doing what she told me to. I feel extremely passionate about sticking to my commitments.”
“I really didn’t want to do this the hard way because the hard way means you’ll drool. I hate drool,” Gisele said, her face scrunched.
“Me too,” I offered. “I don’t look good with drool. Let’s try something else. Like not making the nice prisoner drink the nasty potion. That would probably be best for all those invol—” Gisele threw out the hand that had been resting on her waist. A flash of illumination pulsed from her hand. Something hit me hard in the chest, cutting off my words. That was when the lights went out.
I had no idea how much time had passed before my eyes slowly blinked open. The world was blurry. What did come into focus was doubled. I jumped when I
saw two of Gisele. “Please, not two. Surely, the world cannot handle two of her,” I muttered as I tried to clear my sight. I rubbed at my eyes and blinked. My lashes fluttered like those ridiculous floozies in court vying for the men’s attention.
Finally, when the room righted itself, I stared up at the witch who hovered over me. She was watching me entirely too intensely. “You’re acting a bit bizarre, even for you,” I said. I felt as if she were waiting for me to turn into a waddling duck that barked like a dog.
“How do you feel?” she asked as she narrowed her wicked eyes.
I thought about it for a moment. How did I feel? At first, I didn’t feel anything. Then, I realized I didn’t want to claw the witch’s eyes out as I had before. In fact, I felt quite agreeable, which made me nervous. Agreeableness was not a quality I valued highly in myself. But now I felt…as if I wanted more than to please the woman before me. I narrowed my eyes. That couldn’t be right. I hated this witch. She killed Hilda, after all. I would stab her in a heartbeat if I could. Wouldn’t I? No, that wasn’t right either. I was being silly. Gisele was my friend. I should do what she said. I scrutinized her through slitted lids. “You’ve done something to me. I should want to kill you. But I can’t seem to muster the strength to hate you. What did you do?”
Gisele grinned. “Nothing too bad,” she said. “I just improved your disposition a little. Gods know you needed it. Now, you won’t try to escape, and I won’t have to worry about fighting you.”
“Why would I want to escape? Or fight you, for that matter?” I shook my head in confusion.
“Exactly, why indeed?” she practically sang. “Now, let’s just do some experimenting—just to be sure things worked exactly how I intended.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” I said, then immediately wondered why in the gods’ name I thought doing any sort of experimenting with Gisele, the mad witch, was a good idea. But the thought fled as soon as it materialized.
“Stand up,” she commanded.
I knew standing wasn’t going to feel good. My body still ached. But Gisele had asked, so it must be best for me. I pushed myself onto all fours. Though it took some time and was accompanied by repeated huffing and guffawing from my spectator—I hated I was disappointing her. I knew my friend’s time was valuable—I finally managed to gain my feet. “Ta-da,” I said, feeling accomplished and wanting to kick my own arse at the same time.
“Now, let me devise an appropriate test,” Gisele said. “What would a spoiled little princess never do? Aha, I know. You’ve always wanted to befriend a rat, Dayna. Ever since you were a little girl. You feel like it would complete your life. Go find a rat and convince it to be your bosom buddy.”
The witch’s words—Witch? That word sounds so negative. The woman’s words filled my mind, and it sounded absurd and completely logical at the same time. Of course, I’d always wanted to befriend a rat. Naturally, who wouldn’t?
Sane people, maybe, a little voice in the back of my mind countered. The voice sounded strange to me.
Who are you? I asked the voice.
I’m the part of your mind that hasn’t succumbed to the spell the witch put you under.
I shook my head, dismissing that immediately. That was silly. There was no way I was under a spell. I was much too strong-willed to ever have my own mind commandeered by another.
“The rat, girl. You’re searching for a rat,” Gisele growled.
“Oh, right. Of course. The rat.” I began walking slowly around the cottage, leaning down and clicking my tongue. “Here ratty, ratty, roo,” I sang. How else would I call a rat? Surely, they’d be more inclined to be my friend if I sounded inviting and sweet, right?
You sound like an idiot. There was that blasted voice again. Deciding it was best to ignore it, I continued my hunt for a new rodent best friend.
Because that’s a completely rational thing a person in total control of their own strong will would do.
Shut up, damn voice.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are. I’ll give you cheese and a warm blanket to curl up in. Rats like warm blankets, don’t they?” I glanced over at the witch.
She barely glanced my way as she waved her hand. “Sure, sure. Whatever. Just keep looking.”
At some point, I got down on all fours, despite the pain it caused, and crawled, going from one end of the room to the other. I was beginning to think that no rats lived in the cottage. Or maybe none of them wanted to be my friend? That couldn’t possibly be true. Who wouldn’t want to be my friend?
Pretty much any person who didn’t want to appear a fool, the voice piped up again.
Hush, voice. Gisele is my friend.
Suddenly, there was a tiny scratching sound in the corner to my right. Scurrying over, I slowly moved a dusty stack of books. Sitting there on its hind legs was a rat, its beady little eyes staring at something it held in its tiny clawed hands. I didn’t even think. I reached out, then snatched it up before the creature had even realized it had been spotted.
The rat squawked and wiggled ferociously, trying to get free. It even tried to turn its head and bite me. Holding it close to the neck so it couldn’t move, I hugged the body against my own. I stood from my kneeling position. To Gisele, I shot a triumphant smile as I said, “Got it!”
Gisele studied the rat in my hands, her lips pursed. “It doesn’t appear the creature wants to be your bosom buddy.”
“Well, we just met. You can’t expect us to just suddenly jump in a relationship. We have to get to know one another. He’ll come around. Or maybe it’s a she…not exactly sure yet.”
The woman’s lips twitched, and I felt as though she wanted to laugh at me. “By all means, please get comfortable and get to know your rat.”
Don’t. Do NOT get to know the rat. You’ll look like a bigger idiot than you already do. For goodness sakes, pull yourself together, woman, the voice practically yelled.
Quit your hollering, I replied. You’re giving me a headache.
I went back over to the same spot on the floor where I’d been sitting earlier, then slid down the wall until I was seated. The rat stilled itself, but its eyes appeared no less terrified. “Hello,” I said, attempting to sound nonthreatening. “My name is Dayna Auvray, and I am a princess.” I told the rat this in hopes that my title might encourage him or her to want to be my friend. Who didn’t want to be friends with a princess?
“What is your name?” I asked. I’d decided to call her a girl because it just seemed more appropriate I befriended a girl and not a boy.
Of course, it does, the voice sighed. Staring at the rat, I shrugged. “I understand if you’re shy. I’ll just give you a name until you want to tell me yours. I shall call you…”
“Asinine,” Gisele interrupted. “You will call it Asinine.”
I frowned. “Really? That seems like an odd choice for a name.”
“You love it,” the witch said.
“Yes, of course, I do,” I chirped. “I love Asinine. It’s a great name. And I can call you Assy for short.”
The witch’s cackling averted my attention, and I was shocked to see her bent over and clutching her stomach. “I may just have to keep you solely for entertainment,” she said between chuckles.
“Ignore her, Assy,” I said, turning back to my friend. “She’s a bit mad in the head.”
Really, the voice said, because she’s not the one befriending a rat and calling it Assy.
The voice sounded so rational. So, why did I want to disregard everything it said?
Because you’re under a spell, it said slowly. The idea of being under a spell that allowed Gisele to control my mind made me shudder. The mere thought of it made me want to dig my brain out of my head. Surely, that couldn’t be the case. I ignored the possibility. Ignoring difficult mental problems was always the best course of action.
“So, Assy, since you are a bit quiet, I shall tell you a little about myself.” I leaned back, got comfortable, and held her a little snugger when
she started wiggling again. “As I said, I am a princess, the youngest heir to the throne of England. I’ve lived a privileged life, and I can admit I’ve been a bit spoiled. However, I am very thankful for all that I’ve been given. My eldest sister is my best friend. Her name is Allete. You will love her. And I’ve no doubt she will simply adore you. Although I think we will have to give you a bath before you meet. I hate to be rude, but you sort of smell like moldy bread.”
“Is that what you tell all your friends?” Gisele asked.
“I am honest with them. There’s no point in being friends if you aren’t willing to be honest.”
“Do I smell?” the witch asked, sounding very curious.
“I would like to point out that we aren’t friends. I don’t have to be honest with you, but, on this matter, I will be because I am the one suffering. You reek. Your scent is so repugnant I have to fight the urge to gag, and I’m beginning to believe the smell of my own vomit might be a better alternative to your stench.”
Gisele’s eyes began to glow an eerie green color.
“Too, honest?” I asked, quirking my brow.
“Tell your rat she means more to you than anything, and you will protect her with your very life. And then be sure to follow through if it comes to that,” she spat.
“Of course,” I replied. I was trying to befriend Assy, and I wanted her to feel safe because I wanted all my friends to be safe. “Assy, I pledge my loyalty to you, and I promise to protect you with my life should yours come into danger.”
Later on, you will look back at this and want to bury your head in the sand because of what a fool the witch has made of you, my friendly, encouraging voice said.
Ignoring the voice, I returned to my new friend and continued to tell her about myself. Occasionally, Gisele would say something that wasn’t helpful, and I simply ignored her.
“You are a very good listener,” I told Assy an hour later. “Although, I do wish you would share a little about yourself. Like where did you come from? Do you have any siblings?”
