Stone Queen

by Michelle M. Pillow

  A hardness had settled into Thomas’ face and a burden to his once carefree smile. His eyes did not shine as they once had and they did not linger on any of the pretty faeries that crossed his path in the Silver Palace hall. And then, like the sun’s first light peeking over the horizon to introduce a new day, realization dawned on him. Thomas felt the weight of responsibility. His look was the one Hugh had carried for many years. Only after marrying Tania did his burden ease.

  “You say you only saw one rider?” Hugh asked William.

  “Aye, but I swear it was him.” William appeared worried, a great feat for the brother who hardly showed any such cautious emotion. “The wind stirs strangely.”

  “Methought Tania said the wizards lord over the weather. We can thank your kind for this,” Hugh answered.

  “I know wizard magic and this is not it. Other forces control this foul change.” William looked up at the sky. “I fear what is happening this day. We must find King Merrick. I cannot keep Juliana’s voice out my head.”

  “You hear her?” Thomas looked ready to jump off his horse.

  “Only whispers of a memory.” William was unconcerned with the threatening stiffness of Thomas’ stance. “My senses are telling me to find King Merrick because Juliana needs him. And if she needs him, we need him.”

  “Most kings will not ride alone when at war, even so close to their castle. The Unblessed King does not appear the foolish kind. We will ride to the Black Palace and inquire of King Merrick there.” Hugh urged his horse on, picking up the pace once more. They were close to the palace, he could feel it. “It makes for a better plan than riding all over Valdis trying to find a man on a horse. At least from there we will have a better chance of tracking him.”

  Merrick glanced over his shoulder. He tried to resist, but he couldn’t help but study his brother for his reaction as he stepped into his home. Ean’s eyes traveled over the dark walls and floor, lingering briefly on the thick crimson tapestries and banners hanging behind Merrick’s throne.

  “The Blessed King,” Iago taunted in a frightful hiss, laughing as King Ean looked around. “Eee-an.”

  “Eee-an,” Borc mimicked, the words sounding from the other side of the hall.

  “Blesss-ed Eee-an,” added another, raspy and low. A figure moved from the shadows, rolling across the hall floor where King Ean didn’t look.

  “E-an, E-an, Eee-an!” said a voice raspier than the others, the tone higher. Mocking laughter sounded all around, coming from nearly twenty voices.

  “What?” Ean asked, frowning as he turned several times to see who spoke.

  Aside from their taunts, Merrick heard the goblins’ whispering, but they did not show themselves.

  “He invites King Ean into the unblessed hall,” Merrick heard Tuki say.

  “Nay, he captures him. The war is won and we have taken it,” Iago told the others.

  Adal put his back to King Ean, placing his hand on his sword in warning. Ean looked at Merrick in question. The cackling laughter grew. Merrick felt their uneasiness feeding his power.

  “Do not mind the goblins,” Merrick said. “They try to scare anyone who steps into the hall. They will not attack without my command.”

  “Call them away,” Adal said.

  Merrick frowned, not liking the order in his tone. Nevertheless, he commanded, “Leave us, goblins!”

  The creatures scurried off in vocal disappointment, a few still hissing their jeers at the two blessed elves.

  “They will not be back.” Merrick again led the way across the hall. Two sets of footsteps followed him and he stopped. “Commander Adal, is there anything I may get you while you wait in the hall?” Merrick motioned his hand to the side and a table appeared, filled with food and drink.

  Adal glanced at it, shaking his head. He opened his mouth to protest, when Ean held up his hand. Nodding at the table, the Blessed King told his man to stay behind.

  “This is an affair for brothers,” Ean said. “King Merrick will swear your protection on his life, won’t you?”

  Merrick smirked, but nodded all the same.

  Not happy with the decision, Adal didn’t move toward the table as Merrick led Ean to the door behind his throne.

  “Now that we are alone…” Ean walked beside him down the passage toward the gardens. “What is this we are doing?”

  “Juliana is trapped in stone. I need your blood to free her.”

  Ean stopped walking. The palace was quiet, hardly a soul stirred inside the walls. Merrick detected Lord Kalen pacing in the high tower where he normally slept. The man would not come down anytime soon.

  “Not all of it,” Merrick closed his eyes. Ean always expected the worst. “Only a few drops. You can spare that much for the life of my son and wife, can you not?”

  “I am here,” Ean answered.

  “This way. She’s in the garden. Stay close to me. The grass is a glamour. If you step on it, you will fall for a very long time.” A dark wall encased the area. Merrick crossed over the black cobblestone path toward the arched entryway in the garden, silently willing Ean to hurry. The pointed lancet windows gave off a soft orange glow from within, helping to light their way.

  “Are things always so dark here for you?” Ean asked. Moonlight shone from above, the full silvery moon bright in the night sky. Stars spotted the clear heavens, a perfect background to the twisted castle towers above them. The door leading back to the palace disappeared and Merrick felt a small measure of relief that Ean could not escape the garden. Part of him expected his brother to change his mind at any moment.

  Merrick kept walking. “Nay, sometimes there are clouds.”

  “I do not know how you stand it. I have only been here a short time and the depression is making me sick.”

  “I feel the same with just a thought of seeing the Golden Palace again.” Merrick walked straight, ignoring the paths that veered off in several directions.

  “Where…?” Ean asked as Merrick didn’t turn.

  The plants along the walls were withered and neglected. Thorns, as sharp as blades, edged the vines. As Merrick neared, the crimson flowers bloomed on the vines and the stone wall beneath them parted, letting him pass.

  “They bleed?” Ean reached toward one feeling the dewy petals.

  “Keep up,” Merrick ordered. Behind him, the walls closed. Ean swore under his breath. Belatedly, Merrick said, “Watch the thorns. They are sharp.”

  They made it to the center garden. Merrick’s eyes went directly to his wife as the vines enclosed them. His feet hit hard upon the ground as he hurried to her side. Juliana’s mouth was open wide in a scream and her dress, which had changed from the one she’d been wearing, was torn at the bodice and along the bottom hem.

  “This is her?” Ean asked, eyeing the statue. “She is beautiful.”

  “Aye. She is.”

  “What did you do to her?”

  “I dared to love her.” Merrick touched her stone face before reaching to his chest, willing the knife he carried by his heart to come through his clothing. He gripped the hilt of the jeweled dagger. “The witch said I need the blood of royal brothers on opposing thrones. Both of us need to give it freely.”

  “Why this?”

  “Juliana thought she was doing the right thing. She hoped to repair—” he paused, sighing. Taking the knife, he cut his hand, slashing through his palm. Blood ran down his hand, but he didn’t let on that it hurt. “She thought she could end my suffering by mending our brotherhood and ending the war. She did this to force my hand, only she was betrayed.”

  “I’m jealous,” Ean held out his hand, “that you have found a woman who would go to such lengths.”

  Merrick couldn’t speak. Somewhere, his wife was in pain. He took Ean’s hand in his bleeding one and lifted the blade.

  “Make it fast—” Ean began, only to be cut off when Merrick didn’t hesitate to cut him. The blade sliced easily through his palm. Merrick let go of his brother. Ean lifted his hand to touch
Juliana. Pausing inches from her arm, he looked down to the Unblessed Queen’s stomach. “You must trust this witch you speak of very much to listen to her.”

  Merrick’s hand lifted only to stop, not touching her. “I don’t trust her, but I trust Lord Kalen and he said to do this.”

  Ean tried to reach forward, but Merrick stopped him.

  “Wait, give me a moment to think.”

  “What’s to think about?” Ean asked. “She’s your wife.”

  Merrick stepped back. “I don’t trust the witch. She would only tell me enough to do damage. When Kalen read her, he mentioned the baby being overdue. He said if Lucien…”

  Merrick went to the statue, kneeling before her. He put his cheek against her stomach. The stone was warm.

  “If Lucien takes the baby, it will kill her. Free from the prison or not, evil will win this way. That is what the witch has to gain. If the queen dies, she’ll take my pain over it. There will possibly be enough power for her to escape.”

  “Then what do you want to do?” Ean asked.

  Merrick leaned back, holding up the knife. Drawing back his arm, he hit it against the stone stomach. It chipped, but didn’t crack. “Find a rock. Help me.”

  “Are you sure?” Ean asked.

  Merrick’s hand shook. He was careful not to get his blood on the stone. “I hope so.”

  “Ahh,” Juliana moaned, grabbing her stomach as pain racked every inch of her body. She was sure the fire would burn her alive, and for a moment it felt like it was, but they passed through it unharmed. Her vision swam, everything on the other side of the fire was a blur. All she knew was that the stone hands holding her had turned into cold flesh when they came out of the heat.

  “Cut it from her,” Anja’s voice ran out. “Make her bleed. She’s dying anyway.”

  “Quiet, Anja,” a woman’s voice ordered.

  “Do not cross me, Ari,” Anja warned.

  “Anja!” King Lucien growled.

  “I do not answer to her,” the child pouted. “Now cut her, my king, before it’s too late.”

  Lucien laughed, a dark and vicious sound. “She will not die here. This alternate realm is protected by magic. It’s the only way I could draw them both out alive. She won’t have the baby until I take her out of it, or until we take it.”

  Anja giggled. Juliana moaned louder, her jaw working as she tried to speak. She felt tapping against her stomach and the fear that they were going to take her son made her voice finally break free. She screamed, thrashing on the hard, flat bed.

  “What is happening to her?” the female voice asked, not as joyous as the other two. “Her stomach is bleeding.”

  “I haven’t touched her,” Lucien said.

  “Do not look at me,” Anja protested. “I am over here.”

  “She is weakening,” the Demon King said.

  “Nay,” the woman said softly. “She is dying. You are losing her.”

  “Ah!” Merrick yelled, beating his wife’s stone stomach, trying to break through.

  Ean stood behind him, not helping to fracture the pregnant belly. He’d merely said, “I will not hit her, Merrick. If you are wrong, the fault of her death and that of the child will not be mine.”

  Suddenly, a loud break sounded over the garden. The stone cracked, a jagged trail breaking open from between her stone thighs to her chest. Water pinkened with blood ran out over his hands. Merrick pulled at the stone, chipping at the crack with his fingers.

  “I see something,” he grunted. On his knees before her, he clawed at the stone, his fingers slipping in the wetness. “Ean, help me.”

  Ean was by his side, pulling at Juliana’s stomach. Together they broke a hole through the stone. A baby’s bloody foot popped out only to withdraw back in.

  “My son,” Merrick cried, seeing that the baby was alive. He ripped a piece of the statue away. A loud wail echoed out of the stone. “My son.”

  Reaching into Juliana, he pulled the baby out. The wet bundle squirmed in his hands as he pulled it to his chest. Already he could see it had his mother’s dark brown hair, but when the baby blinked, Merrick saw his own black eyes staring back at him.

  “Merrick,” Ean whispered. “What about her?”

  Merrick looked at the broken statue. Tears threatened to spill over, as he stood. Thrusting the child at Ean, he ordered, “Hold my son.”

  Ean took the baby, making a weak noise as he held it. Merrick frantically looked around for Juliana’s dagger, only to find it on the ground where he’d dropped it. Crawling toward it, he picked it up.

  “Please, Juliana,” Merrick whispered, drawing the blade hard against his hand. The first wound had started to heal and he wanted to make sure she had enough blood to come back to him. Looking at his brother, he said, “Ean, your hand!”

  Ean hesitated, as he stared down at the child.

  “Ean!” Merrick pleaded.

  Holding the crying baby with one arm, the Blessed King offered his palm to his brother. Merrick cut it open once more and together they touched the statue—Ean on Juliana’s arm and Merrick on the top of the crack, right above her heart.

  “Please, Juliana, please,” Merrick pleaded. “Take me instead, fate, take me. Not my Juliana.”

  The stone trembled beneath them. Ean’s arm tightened as he held the baby tighter. Then, suddenly, the stone beneath their hands crumbled into a pile of dust. She was gone.

  “Nay!” Merrick screamed, causing the child to wail louder at the sound. He reached for the dust, trying to pull it to his chest before the breeze swept it away. “Juliana, nay. I have killed my wife. I have killed her.”

  “Merrick, we need to get your son inside,” Ean urged. “We need to clean him up.”

  Merrick saw his son in his brother’s bloody hands. That was the vision he’d had of the future. “Hands and blood.”

  “Merrick?” Ean asked, slowly stepping back.

  “That is what Kalen and I both saw.” This time the tears did fall, spilling down his cheeks.

  “Merrick, we need to go inside.” Ean’s tone was calm, though his expression was strained. “Don’t you think Juliana would want you to care for your son?”

  “Aye.” He nodded, knowing Ean spoke the truth. “But what can I, the king of all that is unblessed, do for him? I have killed his mother.”

  “The woman you described to me, the woman you love, sounds like the type of woman who would want you to take her life for her son’s. You did the right thing, brother.”

  Merrick wasn’t sure how, but he managed to stand. Juliana’s voice echoed in his brain, a speechless tone he always carried with him. He saw her face clearly, floating in his memories, memories he would forever keep close to his heart.

  “My Juliana,” he whispered as the vines parted and closed as they walked through. “I am so sorry I could not save you. My perfect Juliana.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “We heard a child crying.” King Hugh rushed forward as Ean and Merrick entered the great hall of the Black Palace. The Unblessed King tried to be strong, but Juliana’s three brothers were the last people he ever wanted to see. All three of the Bellemare brothers bowed to them when they saw the Blessed King, though the action was weak and rushed. Hugh searched both men, only to stiffen when he saw the baby in Ean’s arms. “Is that?”

  “My son,” Merrick said weakly. His magic automatically searched for her, but all he felt was his son where her power used to be. The child already was a powerful being and Merrick could only guess that his magic would grow stronger in time.

  “A son?” Thomas whispered, going toward the child. “It is over? The curse is lifted?”

  “The way was open,” William explained.

  Merrick didn’t move. He’d forgotten to close the entrance when he led Ean and Adal into the hall.

  “Where is Juliana?” William asked, searching behind Merrick to look down the hall.

  Merrick felt Ean’s eyes on him, but what could he say? He felt as if his heart had b
een ripped from his chest and in its place was the echoing reminder of his loss. His nose burned, but he did not cry. How could he? He had to be strong for the only part of his wife that was left.

  “What have you done, Merrick?” Hugh pointed at the Unblessed King’s bloodied hands. The wounds had healed shut on the elfin king’s palms, but Merrick did not will the crimson reminder of what had happened away. He did not clean himself, did not change his attire.

  “King Merrick, please, where is our sister?” Thomas asked.

  Merrick opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Deliberately, he shook his head once. The brothers’ faces fell. The smell of food drifted over the hall, coming from the banquet table he’d procured for Commander Adal. The commander stood next to it, back from the others, watching what happened.

  “Nay,” Thomas whispered, stumbling back as if Merrick struck him. He grabbed his heart. “It cannot be. Not Juliana.”

  Hugh stood still, his body tense, his eyes hard. He said nothing, merely stared at the Unblessed King. Merrick felt his hate of him.

  “Her child…” William mumbled incoherently to himself as he went toward Ean. He held out his hands. “Please, may I see the boy?”

  The wizard took the child, pulling out his wand. Murmuring low incantations, he blessed the child, cleaned and swathed him in a thick cloth. The baby instantly settled.

  “What happened?” Hugh demanded.

  “She didn’t make it back. We did all we could, but we could only save the child,” Ean answered.

  Merrick closed his eyes tight. Ean lied. It was Merrick’s fault that Juliana did not make it. He was the one who decided to take the baby out of her. But if he hadn’t, wouldn’t the child have died? Was that the price fate had wanted him to pay as Unblessed King? He had to pick one life over the other and fate would make him live with that.

  Why had he brought Juliana to his world? He should have just left her in the mortal realm where she was safe. Magic, curses and Kings of the Unblessed didn’t exist in the mortal world. If he had left her there, she’d be safe now.