by Jana Oliver
As they stepped outside into the morning air, Briar couldn’t help but notice a pile of torn and blood-stained clothes at the edge of the road.
‘It would appear our ruffians met a bad end,’ Ruric said. ‘I, for one, shall not mourn their fate.’
‘Neither will I,’ Briar replied, then realized how heartless that had sounded. That wasn’t like her.
‘You are learning, cousin,’ her companion replied. ‘There are good people in this world, and there are bad. The trick is to keep the former as your friends and the latter as far away as possible.’
‘So says Ruric.’ He nodded and smiled. ‘Why did the reeve do that?’ she asked.
‘If I was killed or injured, he could easily claim the mare as his own. It appears I have made an enemy.’
‘You could just give him the horse,’ Briar suggested.
‘If I appease him on this matter, what if his next request is for you?’
Her heart skittered. ‘He wouldn’t do that, would he?’
‘Maybe not, but he has power enough. I do not need to grant him any more,’ was the curt reply.
Instead of going directly to the stable, they headed towards the main market, after more food and dye for her hair, he explained. She began to wonder what the dye would be like in this place. Would it stink? Probably.
As they turned a corner on to a broader street, Briar caught her first close-up view of the castle and was immediately disappointed. Where were the pointy spires, the elegant stained-glass windows, the perky princess striking a pose on the balcony?
Instead, this was a fortress with thick stone turrets, broad defensive walls and a deep, smelly moat. Guards stood high on the curtain walls, patrolling back and forth, all human. Over the bridge, others stood in front of a portcullis, questioning anyone who came too near.
Walt Disney would not have approved.
‘There is no way you can get in there,’ she whispered, mindful that someone might overhear them.
‘Of course there is,’ he said. ‘I know at least two different ways. There are more, no doubt.’
‘No,’ she said, touching his arm to make him pay attention. ‘You’ll end up dead, Ruric. It’s not worth it.’
He sighed at that point. ‘Most likely, but I have always been a lucky soul. Nevertheless, it is a grand castle, is it not?’
Not by her way of thinking.
Briar found this market was larger and had a better selection. She also felt more eyes on her, not only from the merchants and the other shoppers, but from the castle behind them. She forced herself to act normally, buying the items Ruric had said they needed, often from people who looked remarkably similar to people back home. It proved difficult figuring out which coin was of what value. She grew smarter at it when one of the merchants tried to shortchange her.
As Ruric chatted with a pair of townspeople, Briar caught the elusive scent of baked goods. In particular – cake. Her mouth watered and she did a slow turn to try to figure out where it’d come from.
Wandering through the stalls, she kept tracking the scent like a bloodhound, because it reminded her of her mother and home. It grew stronger as Briar approached a narrow alley, one with all the doors and windows boarded up. Various hex signs were scrawled on the walls like graffiti, some in what appeared to be dried blood. Curiously, none of that frightened her. Instead, she felt at peace, as if the brooding darkness that shadowed her couldn’t reach her here.
More steps brought her close to an abandoned well, all boarded up with symbols scrawled on every surface. What did they mean? One of the boards had fallen aside and she peered down into a deep black hole. From somewhere below came the steady drip drip of water. Knowing Ruric would be worried about her, she looked back down the street towards the market, but couldn’t see him.
Though she knew she should go find him, that he might be worried about her, Briar didn’t want to leave this place. She sank down on to the stone kerb of the well, fanning herself with her hand. Her new scarf was hot, but she didn’t dare take it off. It’d be better after she dyed her hair, then she could braid it and wouldn’t be so warm.
Briar closed her eyes, feeling at home for the first time since she’d arrived. A faint noise came from behind her and she swore someone tapped her on the back. She looked round, but there was no one there. Had to be her imagination.
Ruric appeared at the end of alley and she waved her hand so he’d see her. There was another tap, followed by a loud giggle. Briar spun round and found . . . nothing. No, there was a teal feather lying on one of the boards and she knew it hadn’t been there before. She retrieved it, entranced by how it glistened in the sunlight, almost iridescent.
Where did it come from?
‘Briar! Come away from there!’ Ruric called out as he ran towards her. ‘It is not safe.’
Just as she stood, he raced up and took hold of her arm, pulling her down the street like she’d been a naughty child. She was just about to show him the cool feather, but something stopped her. Instead, Briar stuffed her treasure inside her shirt.
‘I wasn’t like I was going to fall in,’ she grumbled.
‘The well is very dangerous. They live down there. They kidnap mortals and suck the life from their bodies. I doubt the metal on your wrist would have saved you.’
‘They who?’ she asked, bewildered.
‘The fata. They are the ones who laid the curse on the princess. It is why the regent sends her beasts out at night, to keep them at bay, if not we would all die.’
Was a fata something like a fairy? That was who had laid the curse in the Grimms’ version of ‘Sleeping Beauty’.
‘What do they look like?’ she asked.
Now that they were approaching the end of the alley, Ruric slowed his pace and let go of her arm. ‘Their skin is very bright and colourful, sometimes covered in feathers. They have eyes that shine like a cat’s. It is said that once they pull you underground they change into hideous monsters. They are fond of mortal males in particular.’
Which I’m not. Briar didn’t want to call BS on him, but none of this sounded right. Still, her companion’s fear was so palpable there had to be something behind this. For now, she decided to keep the feather hidden, at least until she had the time to figure out what it meant and why someone, or something, had given it to her.
The time passed without incident as people came and went, collecting or dropping off horses. Briar had found some time to dye her hair, which had proved to be a smelly process. Ruric had helped her with her eyebrows and when she was done, he pronounced her fit to be seen without a head scarf.
‘Your hair is like a raven’s wing now,’ he proclaimed, touching her drying braid. ‘It is magnificent to behold. You’re as beautiful as any princess.’ Then he delicately placed the lightest of kisses on her forehead.
Is he flirting with me? It sure felt like it.
Despite the warmth in her cheeks, she didn’t mind.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Once they were further into the village, Joshua asked a local where they could find the stable and was provided with directions. To his relief, people weren’t taking a lot of notice of them.
The heavy tolling of a gong stopped them in their tracks.
‘What does that mean?’ Reena asked.
‘Probably time to drown a witch,’ Joshua joked.
Reena glared at him. ‘Oh, like someone who works with herbs and roots and does magic?’
He winced at his mistake. ‘Sorry. I say stupid stuff when I’m . . . worried.’ Scared was more like it, but he wasn’t going to admit that, even to his friend.
As the gong struck a final note, the villagers stopped toiling, talking or whatever it was they were engaged in, and began to file towards the castle. Even if Joshua and Reena had wanted to go in another direction, it wasn’t an option with the tide of bodies surging forward.
‘Maybe we’ll see Briar somewhere along the way,’ Reena said. ‘Save us a trip to the stable.’
T
hat he doubted. When Joshua caught a glimpse of a man who looked exactly like Bliss’s mailman, he nudged Reena and pointed at him.
‘The curse is pulling things out of Briar’s mind,’ his friend explained. ‘Remember, the Dark Rider told us that. That’s not good news – she has a really vivid imagination.’
Yet another reason to get her out of here as quickly as possible.
The mass of humanity finally halted outside the castle’s massive front gate as the portcullis was painstakingly winched upward, foot by foot.
‘You’d think it’d be like one of those fairy castles,’ Reena said, craning her neck up to get a better look. ‘This is—’
‘Not good news,’ Joshua replied, keeping his voice low. ‘That is one seriously fortified castle. Someone isn’t feeling secure on their throne.’
Reena gave him a nudge. ‘Check out the building on your right,’ she said under her breath. ‘It’s like . . . metal.’
Joshua followed her gaze and gaped. One side of the structure was wood, the other brass. Before he could comment, a phalanx of armoured warriors exited the main gate. They were heavily armed, carrying either pikes or swords. A lone rider followed them.
‘Look!’ Joshua exclaimed. ‘The horse is metal.’
Reena checked it out. ‘OK, that’s seriously weird.’
Joshua admired the beast from its shiny copper ears to its long tail. It had the grace of a real horse, but with each footfall requiring a series of complex motions as if it were a clockwork toy.
Its rider was dressed in a hat and a long black gown that flowed down the flanks of the steed, her face obscured by a mask made of copper. A black iron falcon perched on her shoulder, its green eyes scanning the crowd as if it were searching for its next meal.
‘This isn’t like any fairy tale I’ve ever read,’ Reena whispered.
‘Not unless Stephen King wrote it,’ he replied.
A servant in a Civil War uniform and a half-mask stepped forward, and, after a trumpet blast, unrolled a piece of paper.
‘As there have been those who question the existence of the Sleeping Princess known as Aurora, the regent has ordered that she be brought forth so that all may see Her Highness and know she is unharmed.’
Excited murmurs broke out around them.
‘She’s here? Is it true?’ someone called out.
‘That means she is still alive,’ another replied.
Joshua nudged his companion. ‘Sleeping princess?’
Reena shrugged. ‘“Sleeping Beauty” is Briar’s fave tale, but I don’t remember a regent in the story.’
As they watched, a quartet of liveried servants exited the castle bearing a small filigreed bed. Resting on it was a young woman, one with flowing blonde hair that cascaded over the side of the mattress. Her hands were folded over her chest and nestled between them was a single metallic rose.
‘It’s Briar,’ Reena said, her voice telegraphing her surprise. As she tried to move closer, Joshua caught her arm.
‘No . . .’ he said. ‘Wait and see what happens.’
As the sleeping form paused in front of the crowd, there were gasps of delight. Many of the villagers fell to their knees as if the princess was some sort of religious icon.
‘This is way off the creepy scale,’ Joshua said.
‘You sure it’s not Briar? We can just grab her and take off.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s not her.’ That earned him a frown. ‘Trust me on this.’
‘If you’re wrong . . .’ Reena warned.
He knew it wasn’t. The girl on the bed was remarkably similar, but he’d spent too many hours studying the lines of Briar’s face to be fooled.
‘You’re right,’ Reena conceded. ‘It’s not her. Her boobs aren’t that big.’
Joshua snorted and that earned him a frown. ‘You said it, not me.’
A young man suddenly dashed forward, intent on reaching the princess, but he fell short of his goal, knocked down by two guards. With a nod from the regent, his throat was cut, the gushing blood spilling forth. The instant it left his body it quickly turned to metal, flowing into the soil beneath him like molten silver as his eyes turned sightless.
‘Oh, God,’ Reena blurted out. ‘Did you see that?’
From behind them, someone shushed her. ‘Be silent. If she hears you, you’ll be next.’
Joshua tentatively took hold of his friend’s hand and it shook in his.
What is this nightmare?
As the young man’s body slumped to the ground, a feminine wail came from the crowd. A young girl ran forward and cradled him in her hands. As she wept, the princess was ferried back into the castle, her part in this drama complete.
‘No!’ someone cried. ‘Free her!’
That person was promptly hushed by his neighbours.
The servant unrolled another parchment. ‘An enemy of the Sleeping Princess has been discovered within the village. To threaten Aurora is to warrant death.’
Joshua shifted weight on his feet, uneasy at the increasing tension in the crowd. They were angry, he could feel it rolling over him in waves, yet still none of the townspeople wanted to share the fate of the man whose flowing blood was anointing the dirt.
The jeers and shouts began the moment guards hauled a small form through the castle gates. Thinking it was a child, Joshua gasped. It wasn’t until the prisoner was dragged closer that he realized it was something entirely different.
‘Cursed swine! Burn it!’ someone called out.
The being was multi-coloured, its skin dappled with oranges and rusts with vivid blue encircling its eyes. Its hair was a light shade of green and small pale flowers were woven with the locks. It was clothed in feathers that fluttered as it moved.
‘What is that thing?’ Reena asked.
‘A fata,’ one of the villagers replied. ‘That’s what it looks like in the sunlight. I’ve heard that at night it changes and it will kill you if it can.’
Joshua touched the sleeve of a man standing next to him. ‘Why do you hate it so much?’
‘Their kind cursed our princess. It is why Aurora sleeps and none can wake her. Why the regent is our –’ the man hesitated – ‘ruler.’
Though he’d meant to say more than that, Joshua got the picture. ‘What’s with all the metal?’
The older man gave him a strange look. ‘It’s to keep them fata at bay. Everyone knows that. Where are you from?’
‘We’re new to your . . . village.’
‘Why in God’s sweet name would anyone come here?’ the man replied, then pointedly moved away from them as if they were contagious.
The crowd grew louder as the small figure cowered, crying blue tears that splashed on its toes, its whole body shaking.
The servant cleared his throat. ‘The sentence is slow death. There will be no mercy shown,’ he announced, then dutifully rolled up his parchment.
With faint cries, the fata was forced inside a gibbet, one lined with iron. It shrieked when its skin touched the sides, but there was no way it could avoid the metal. It was a cruel way to die.
At the regent’s gesture the gibbet was hauled up on a pole for all to see. Only now did the crowd vent its displeasure, both with oaths and rotten fruit. The anger was real, though Joshua suspected it was also meant for their ruler.
‘Should have torn the accursed thing apart. It is an abomination,’ a woman said.
Joshua turned to see who had spoken and then his attention locked on a girl, one that looked remarkably like Briar. Her build was similar, the way she held her head, but it couldn’t be as this girl had jet black hair and the man next to her had his arm round her in a comforting gesture, as if they were a couple.
‘Come on, let’s get out of here,’ Joshua urged.
As they broke clear of the throng, Reena looked back at the creature hanging in the gibbet. ‘Even if those things cursed the princess, that’s just sick, letting it die that way.’
‘Not our problem,’ Joshua replied. At h
is friend’s startled expression, he added, ‘I know that sounds really cold, but our only job is to get Briar out of here, before someone decides to cut her throat.’ Or ours.
‘Now you see why I have been so cautious,’ Ruric said as they walked back to the stable together. He was still holding her hand and she appeared to like that, but Briar wasn’t smiling now, not after what had happened. A sensitive soul lost in a dark world, he knew she grieved for both the dead man and the fata.
‘Aurora looks like me. You knew that, didn’t you?’ she said.
‘Yes, I was told you resembled her.’
Why am I so keen to throw away my life for the princess? Is being a king that important?
It was the same question Ruric been asking himself for the last few months, just one of the issues that had held him back from his quest. Now Briar’s presence made that question more pressing. His ‘cousin’ was a fine young lady, and if he didn’t need to secure a throne of his own she would make a good choice for a wife, if she would agree to such a thing.
Perhaps if he woke the princess and helped overthrow the regent, he could choose another path for his life. A path that didn’t require a throne, but might include a pretty girl with no home.
As he looked over at her, pondering that future, someone called out.
‘Briar?’
She came to a halt, and then slowly turned. Her eyes widened in astonishment. ‘Reena?’ she cried.
Then there was a flurry of embracing as she and the other girl greeted each other. The newcomer’s arms were dark, her face the same underneath her hood.
‘Josh is here too,’ the girl said. She waved at someone and a young man moved closer to them.
Ruric took the measure of the young man and found little fault. He was younger by a few years, but handsome in his own way. This must be the lad Briar had claimed wasn’t a suitor, yet the way he looked at her said she was mistaken.
So he has come for her.
Ruric couldn’t miss the deep frown that came his way. He knew that expression well enough: this one was jealous. How had Briar missed the signs?
‘How did you get here?’ she asked, clearly baffled.