Stinking Beauty

Home > Fantasy > Stinking Beauty > Page 15
Stinking Beauty Page 15

by Elizabeth A Reeves


  The queen in the middle of the floor screamed with rage. “What have you done, Eberhardt? You have killed that girl as truly as if you had cut her throat.”

  The king looked down dispassionately at the body on the bed. “I don’t believe she’s dead yet,” he said mildly. “But I don’t believe she will last much longer. And what of her prince? Do you believe he will survive the wound I gave him?”

  The queen wobbled from where she stood over the young man’s body. “I’ll make sure of it,” she cried. “Once I have your blood on my hands.”

  The king laughed softly. “To think you were this bloodthirsty all along. I do believe I could have enjoyed you after all. But I’m afraid it’s too late. You must all die. The kingdom will weep when they learn you died in childbirth. Isn’t it delicious?”

  The two guards roared in response to his words and hurtled themselves towards the king. He shifted and I saw that he had been hiding a sword from my view, behind his body. He lifted it almost casually and with two strokes, and what appeared to be no effort at all, he cut the guards down.

  The queen screamed again.

  “What will it be, my dear?” the king taunted softly. “If you come to me, I will kill the babes as they lie. If you take that knife from the prince’s boot and cut your own throat… I may just let the wee ones live. Perhaps. Shall we play a game, my love?”

  I was trembling in terror and rage. I didn’t know what could be done. The king was in the position of power. If anyone moved at all, he would kill the infants on that bed. Not one of us could stomach such a result.

  My lips moved slightly. I could feel Dallan’s hand tighten on my arm.

  I didn’t try to think of a spell. I could see Gloriana waving her wand in vain. It wasn’t working. There would be no help from her.

  The king stared straight at us and laughed again. It was a pleasant laugh. It should have been disgusting and cruel, but it was a bubbling, light-hearted laugh. “Only the truly pure can work Magic here, didn’t you know that? Only the truly strong can hold this place, which is why I dug into it from my castle. Legends say it was the home of dragons.” He laughed again, lightly, and lifted his sword.

  Light flashed through me. My eyes were blinded. I lifted my hands with no conscious understanding of what I was doing. I splayed my fingers and the light climbed through me and burst through my chest. I called out one word, one strange word from no language I knew, but something deep within me recognized it. My voice cracked and broke over the sound I knew I would never be able to replicate.

  The cavern echoed the sound, again and again, and again.

  Until I realized that it was not an echo at all, but the sound of a hundred dragons answering my call. They appeared in the lights that had burst from my heart, a tear that carried them from the cavern beneath my house into this twin cavern that carried their name.

  The king shrieked under the chittering of a thousand angry lesser dragons, but he did not truly scream until the white dragon came.

  As she passed through the light, the darkness came for me.

  I would have fallen to the ground if Dallan hadn’t caught me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Well, that was an overreaction,” Astraea said as I groaningly pried my eyes open. My head felt like it was ten times its usual size and it throbbed painfully with every breath that I took.

  “What happened?” I whispered groggily. I touched my throat.

  “Oh, didn’t you notice? You broke your voice,” Astraea said. “You screamed and a crack appeared in the air. The air, Grace! A crack! It was a crack of light so bright we couldn’t stand it. And do you know what came through it?”

  I thought it had been some sort of mad dream. “Dragons,” I croaked. “I called them.”

  She nodded. “We figured that out. Later. Much later.”

  “Talia,” I managed to push through my unwilling vocal cords.

  “She’ll live,” Astraea said compassionately. “And you will, too, if you care to know.”

  I glanced down at my body, looking for injuries.

  “Ancient gods,” Astraea groaned, “you are naïve. What do you think happens when you use your own soul to rip a hole in the ether?” She threw up her arms. “You know what? Forget it, because I don’t even know. Nobody knows. Because no one is stupid enough to try!”

  I cracked a smile even though it felt like the gesture was going to crack me into a million shards of glass. “Sorry.”

  She groaned. “No, you’re not. You would do it again this moment if you had to.”

  “Sorry you were scared,” I managed.

  She smiled at that and set her hand on top of mine.

  “Just so you don’t have to destroy what’s left of your vocal cords,” she said cheerfully, “I’ll let you know that Talia and her babies, and Prince Alexander are all safe and headed home under the watchful eye of a group of Godparents that specialize in medicine. The King is dead and no one knows or cares exactly who killed him, and the Queen is in a sort of law-related purgatory because she’s a killer, but she’s also currently the head of her country which pretty much grants her the right to kill her own subjects. At least, that’s how her late husband interpreted it.

  “Who?” I growled.

  “Easy,” Astraea warned. “I’ll tell you, just give me time. I’m serious about your voice. You came very close to losing it permanently.”

  I hadn’t realized that. I decided I should not try to speak anymore.

  “Apparently, Princess Talia was already missing from the tower when the queen arrived to rescue her. The queen, her name is Astrid as it happens, did not know what to do, so she decided to let her handmaiden, Seraphina, take Talia’s place as they had planned. Only, before they added her to the Sleeping Spell, it appears that Seraphina had a lot to say to Queen Astrid. It turns out that Seraphina was a favorite of the king and he’d promised to make her his new queen after Astrid was beheaded. Her choice of execution, by the way. After the girl was asleep, apparently the queen snatched up a pillow and smothered the little beast to death.”

  I gaped.

  Astraea nodded. “I know. Not quite in character for sweet Astrid, right? I don’t blame her altogether, but it is a good reminder that all humans are capable of murder.”

  I shrugged, not wanting to waste my energy disagreeing with her.

  But something was still bothering me. “Sleeping Spell,” I rasped. “Godparent. Brunhild.”

  Astraea sighed deeply. “I know. We don’t have any neat and tidy answers. The Sleeping Spell adding the dead girl into your existing spell had to be the work of a Godparent. And Brunhild was definitely murdered by a Godparent, too.”

  “She knew,” I whispered. “She was killed because she knew who did it.”

  Astraea nodded. “That’s what I think. Now, do you need to use the bathroom or anything I can help you with before I let my devastated brother in to see you?”

  As soon as she mentioned it, my bladder started protesting. I ached all over. It was distressingly difficult to use the bathroom and wash my face and hands. By the time I returned to my bed I was exhausted.

  I didn’t recognize the room or the bathroom. I raised an enquiring eyebrow at Astraea.

  “You’re at home,” she said. “the dragons brought you back. They insisted.”

  I smiled to myself.

  I abruptly sat forward and reached back to feel along my shoulders and my back.

  Nothing.

  I frowned. I would have thought that something like that… an act of Magic so powerful and for such a good cause would have been enough for me to earn my wings, but…

  “Nothing,” Astraea said. “I know, I checked. I can’t explain it. I’m sorry.”

  I shrugged. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how I felt. Yes, I was disappointed, but I’d also spent the last four centuries of my life without wings. It could be challenging to have to learn new skills like flying with new wings at an age like mine.

  Astraea opened the d
oor and let Dallan in. He rushed to the side of the bed and looked down at me, an unreadable look on his face.

  “I’m fine,” I croaked.

  He winced. “Don’t try to talk.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  He smirked. “I know how difficult it must be for you not to be able to babble in my presence, but you need to rest your voice. Godmother’s orders. Your mother’s orders as well.”

  I winced. My mother had seen me like this? Had she been in my house?

  “She didn’t stay long,” Dallan said. “She said she didn’t like the way the house felt. She called it ‘antagonistic’.”

  I laughed and quickly realized that laughing was the most painful possible thing to do when one’s entire body ached.

  Dallan stroked the hair out of my face and looked down at me. “There’s talk of throwing you a party when you are well.”

  I grimaced.

  He laughed. “Well, I’m afraid that the guest of honor is required to go. You can always pretend that you are still too weak and leave early.”

  I raised my eyebrows in agreement. That was an excellent idea.

  “Gloriana has been here off and on,” he said. “She wants to see you. She never seemed to believe us that you are getting better. Strange that she couldn’t get her wand working.”

  I nodded. That had been bothering me. That cavern had been a strange place. I could only imagine what sort of protections dragons kept on their lairs, even the ones not in use anymore.

  “I’ll let her in the next time she comes,” Dallan suggested. “I’d prefer to wait until your voice is better, but I don’t think she can wait that long. I don’t think she trusts me and Astraea. I do believe she thinks that we have kidnapped you and are keeping you somewhere no one will ever find you.”

  I winced. The idea was just too close to what we had seen.

  Dallan grimaced as he realized what he had said. “I do always seem to be putting my foot in my mouth around you,” he said. “I’m sorry. I am a horrible verbal klutz. You will have to help me with that.

  I leaned my face against his hand and smiled up at him.

  He caught his breath and stooped to kiss me softly on the lips. “You should rest. The more rest you get, the sooner you can tell me how to behave myself. My sister agrees that I need that.”

  He winked as he left the room.

  I shook my head and laughed.

  It took me a few days to recover my strength, but soon I was back to exploring my new house. Astraea and Dallan’s house had worked its Magic and “awakened the soul” of my house, whatever that meant. So far it meant that my house was having a few growing pains.

  “Thank you for helping me find the kitchen,” I said, patting the wall closest to me as I waddled down the hallway. I couldn’t understand how one blast of Magic could make every muscle in my body so sore! Maybe it was a sign that I needed to exercise more.

  The lights of the hall flickered in response to my words and I gave the wall one more pat. I figured that my house waking up probably felt a lot like I had, after my spell. I felt like gravity had put on a few pounds and my limbs and eyes didn’t work right.

  We would have to be patient with each other while we got our legs back under us.

  I had noticed the house playing with making changes around the place. It was nothing huge, just a painting moving from one room into another, and furniture switching places. I’d noticed that the tapestries in the entryway had been swapped out for something brighter and more colorful.

  So far I had given the house free rein. If it ended up doing something I couldn’t live with, then I would step in and make suggestions.

  Suggestions, the twins had warned me, never demands. Not if I wanted to be comfortable in the next century.

  I hobbled the last few steps into the kitchen. It was an ambitiously large room. Even the Greater Dragons would have no difficulty making a space for themselves near the wide fireplace that took up one entire wall of the room. Compared to the rest of the castle, it was bright and airy, with large giant-sized windows down one wall, overlooking sinks and counters and ovens and gleaming copper gadgets I had no names for.

  While there was a formal dining room not far from the kitchen, I much preferred the kitchen table. For one thing, the view looked out over the woods in the direction of a majestic mountain range. For another, I preferred cozy over impressive, and the dining room was beyond impressive. It was intimidating.

  I didn’t think I was ever going to be comfortable with owning such a grand place. I felt more like I was a temporary keeper, a librarian maybe, or a live-in companion to the dragons.

  I’d discovered very early on that when I didn’t have visitors, the dragons made themselves at home pretty much anywhere in the castle. There were secret hallways and doors and rooms to accommodate their movements so that no one they didn’t wish to know about them would catch a glimpse of an errant tail or wing moving from room to room.

  Most of the dragons I had met were polite, some, like Flit, we downright friendly. Others were more remote. I tried to give them the space they wanted and didn’t bother them with my questions.

  And I had so many questions. About everything. About unimportant things and huge things. Mostly, though, about that strange light that had poured from me, and the word I couldn’t seem to remember even though it had cracked my voice so dramatically, and how I had cut a hole in the world and brought the dragons to the rescue.

  I felt a little awkward about the whole situation. I was a Fairy Godmother. I was supposed to guide heroes or prevent them from being needed, but I had panicked in the panic of the moment and let a flight of dragons rescue me. As if I were a princess in one of our spells, and the dragons my prince.

  And I didn’t know how to politely handle the problem of finding cockatrice in my bathroom. So far I had been nearly petrified half a dozen times. I didn’t want to be rude.

  I sat down at the table and a mug of chocolate skidded to a stop in front of me. It slopped over the edges, but I grinned and applauded. “Well done, house! That’s your best landing yet!”

  The white walls around me flushed pink, then turned back to white. It was a remarkable effect. I shivered a little in delight.

  The clock on the far wall ticked a little louder. I looked up at it and gasped. “Thanks for the warning, house! You’re right! I’m late!”

  I gulped a scalding mouthful of chocolate and praised it profusely as I hurried, as much as I was able to hurry, out the kitchen door and towards the stable.

  By a work of Magic, I didn’t understand yet, Agape had been saddled up and was waiting for me outside the barn. His black, skeletal coat gleamed in the morning sunlight. He arched his thick neck and snuffed at me. I stroked his nose. “No one is going to laugh at me when I have you, are they?”

  He snorted in disdain at the very idea that someone would laugh even in the vicinity of his greatness.

  I managed, with much groaning, to pull myself up into the black, crafted saddle and shortened the stirrups so my legs could reach. Brunhild had been significantly taller than I was.

  A wave of sadness passed over me at the thought of the Fairy Godmother who had given me so much. In a manner of speaking she had been my Fairy Godmother. I would be grateful for the rest of my existence for what she had done for me.

  I just wished I had been able to find her killer and bring him to justice. It seemed so wrong that no one was even looking anymore. I wasn’t satisfied with the idea that a human had killed her. They wouldn’t have been able to, not without a weapon from a Godparent. And then there was adding Seraphina to the Sleeping Spell in the tower. That was an intricate piece of Magic that would have taken at least a talented Godparent to manage. No human magician could have done it.

  I turned my focus back to Agape as he broke into a canter and spread his wings. I ducked against his neck as he beat down forcefully and took to the sky. The duck was completely unnecessary, but I couldn’t seem to keep myself from doing
it.

  Luckily, it appeared to amuse the longma, not offend them.

  I drew in a deep breath of clean air as the wind pulled at my clothes and played with my hair. Despite his skeletal appearance, Agape was warm beneath me. I buried my hands in his thick mane and just enjoyed the ride.

  I hadn’t seen Gloriana in a couple of weeks and had decided that, since she appeared reluctant to visit me at home, we should go out on a ride together and catch up. She had agreed happily when I’d called her in my mirror.

  Since I had left home on the late side, Gloriana was waiting for me at the riding park we had decided to ride in. Agape landed lightly and tucked his wings up around my knees. We trotted to meet my cousin.

  While I was riding astride, Gloriana was riding sidesaddle on a pretty, shimmering palomino mare. As the horse did not have wings, I guessed that she was some sort of human bred creature whose ancestors had come through the cracks between the worlds. They made a pretty pair, with Gloriana’s glorious hair, and the way her wings matched the gold of the mare’s coat and the silver of her mane and tail.

  It astounded me sometimes that artists didn’t follow my cousin around, begging to paint her portrait. I admitted to myself that I wouldn’t want to be so showy, so visible. Gloriana enjoyed having people look at her, but I didn’t.

  I smiled at her as we trotted up beside them. Gloriana’s mare gave Agape a jaded glance and made a half-hearted attempt to dance sideways away from him. Gloriana touched the mare’s shoulder with her crop, which she used as an extension of her arm when she was riding sidesaddle, and the shy turned into a sigh.

  “You look better,” Gloriana said, eyeing me up at down with a smile.

  “It feels great to get out of the house,” I said, grinning back. I stroked Agape’s neck. “We haven’t gone riding together in ages.”

  Gloriana nodded. “I thought it was past time. Remember all the times we rode together when we were children?”

  I nodded, smiling at the memory. Gloriana had been conscious of her image, even then. She had always had the prettiest, sweetest ponies, while I had terrorized my family with my series of brave and sometimes half-wild mounts. I’d fallen off plenty of times, but I’d only broken one bone. Eventually, my parents had stopped complaining and just let me be. At least, as far as mounts were concerned. The rest of my life was another story.

 

‹ Prev