by Talia Haze
Book One
Kisses to the seraphs
To Market, To Market
The Cellar
The Empty Blackness of the Unknown
Chancellor Caldron
Princess Connie of Tempton
Shortcut
Hot or Cold
Angel’s Sweet Face
Saramine
Aira – Sent One
Book Two
Key One
Key Two
Key Three
Key Four
Key Five
Key Six
Key Seven
Key Eight
Scratched, but Unbreakable
The Final Keys
Book Three
Nee Gus
The Ring
A Simple Brown Nut
Princess of The Elves
Telo!
The Old Glass Chandelier
Mourn
And I Cannot Stay Here
Ryan’s Sudden Wisdom
Thelathini
Book Four
Renard and Syrah of Tashin
A Fable Within
The Bumpkin Girl Act
A Thirst for Adventure
Captive
An Act of Friendship
The Xri
Aléni, Moura
Happily Ever After
ABOUT
Fables of the Lands
The Fairy Tale
Talia Haze
THE FAIRY TALE Copyright © 2019 by Talia Haze. All Rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Cover designed by Talia Haze.
Model: Alexis Pettigrew
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Talia Haze
Visit my website at www.taliahaze.com
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing: Aug 2019
Edited by Lydia Henline
ISBN: 9781082800788
Much love to my
supportive family and friends!
Grandma & Grandpa Bruno,
this one’s for you.
Book One
Once Upon a Time
Chapter One
Kisses to the seraphs
Once upon a time there was a beautiful maiden named Gabriella. She was the fairest in the kingdom of Tempton; noble, wise and pure. Her soft skin was without flaw; her black locks long and silky, her shape small and perfect. Her beauty was eminent, her splendor supreme. Her face shamed even the ones of the goddesses, her mind shamed even the ones of the seers. Her wit could captivate the solemnest of men; her charm could enchant an enraged fire demon…
The brush landed hard in the bucket, splashing the cold water upon my knees.
“Use this one, Gabriella,” Aunt Beth repeated for the fourth time. “You best start focusing on the task at hand! Set aside your silly daydreaming and pay attention!”
I shrugged and began to scrub with the new brush. Pay attention to what, exactly? I had spent the entire day cleaning the manor. Because Aunt Beth made up her mind to throw a dinner party, I had to scrub floors, walls, cabinets, banisters and every other obscure object that had any faint chance of catching a visitor’s eye. What else was I to do but daydream?
Perhaps the lovely Gabriella would journey to meet a maiden with long hair that cascaded from a tower. Perhaps she would pass the time woodworking with a clever pig. Perhaps she would dine with bears, hug foxes, or swap riddles with Rumpelstiltskin. Perhaps…
Someone rapped loudly on the door. Aunt Beth’s footsteps echoed through the halls as she walked briskly across the stone floors. I leaned to look as the heavy door creaked open. Just a courier, delivering the month’s income and the note, but he also carried a letter and a package!
I didn’t get to watch for long. Aunt Beth folded the package and letter in her arms before she even took the money. Our income came every month from one of my parent’s old trading companions...apparently a good friend who took pity on us. I was only a small child when my parents died while on the road trading. My memories of them were only in tiny fragments.
I pushed the stray hair from my eyes. I didn’t like to think about it. Aunt Beth and Uncle Harrison didn’t like me to ask. It was just better for everyone to leave the past in the past.
Aunt Beth thanked the boy and flashed a charming smile, which instantly disappeared when she turned and saw me watching. I quickly looked down, continuing my work. She brushed passed me, pulling the note off the money bag and handing it to me.
“This is fine for now,” she commented. Just fine? I thought the place never looked better. “Go and help Anna in the kitchen.”
Her footsteps faded as I opened the note and quickly scanned it, hoping it would give some clue as to what the mysterious package was. But it just the standard, “give our kisses to the seraphs and our hugs to the boys.”
I sighed deeply and set the note in my lap. Kisses to the seraphs. That is what he called my sister, Angel and me. He still didn’t know. Angel disappeared nearly four years before in the middle of the night. She went off “searching for answers,” as her note read.
Even the thought upset me. I hated that she left, I hated even more to be reminded of her. My sister! My companion, closer to me than even the boys. She abandoned me. We had searched for weeks to no avail. I felt so hurt and so worried.
I tried to imagine her somewhere lovely. Sometimes as a maidservant to a princess. Sometimes as an archer for a hidden fortress. But most times, I would imagine that she had found her answers and was already on her way home.
“Gabriella!”
I already forgot. I quickly picked up my bucket and clomped down the stairs into the kitchen.
Anna seemed nothing but a blur as she breezed through the kitchen. I set my bucket down next to the wash basin and winced as I placed my torn and blistered fingers into the warm water. The grime soon disappeared, and after gently patting my hands dry, I helped Anna finish plating the food: roast chicken, fresh bread, savory soup and sweet vegetables from the harvest…a grand feast.
Uncle Harrison was a gourmand…every night was a grand feast. His opulent meals were why Anna spent all her time in the kitchen, and why he dismissed the other servants when the boys and I were younger. Our generous income still wasn’t enough to support daily expenses as well as his lavish appetite.
I carried the soup and bread first to the dining room. I hadn’t seen Uncle Harrison all day; I wondered what kind of humor he was in. I set the bowl before him gently, and laded the soup into it. He smiled, breathing in the aroma. I smiled too. All was well.
I returned with the chicken and vegetables, and cut the chicken at the table, placing the choice pieces closest to Uncle Harrison. I glanced up at him every now and then as I worked, measuring my success by his expressions. He ate steadily and I relaxed.
My stomach suddenly moaned loudly. The day’s chores and the hour’s tales had distracted me. I hadn’t eaten since my small portion of bread in the morning...I hoped there would be some scraps left from the meal.
The vexatious Jessica heard the rumble. The youngest daughter of Uncle Harrison and Aunt Beth, ten-year-old Jessica seemed happiest when I was saddest. She bent over her bowl and slurped loudly as I spooned the vegetables onto her plate. “Delicious,” she said. I didn’t respond and turned to go about my business. “
It does need salt, however.”
She had only discovered the purpose of salt the week before. I unconsciously sighed, but immediately bit my lip. Too late. The evil Jessica had a talent for using any of my weaknesses against me. I always tried to keep on guard whenever she was around, but my weariness created carelessness.
“Gabriella!”
I jumped. It was the third time she called my name. “Stop daydreaming and fetch me the salt!”
We both gave quick looks to Uncle Harrison. He didn’t even look up. The bean soup was his favorite. I smirked and picked up the empty bread plates. As I passed Jessica, I leaned close and whispered, “Fetch yourself the salt.”
Jessica cried out at my response, banging her back against the chair. She hadn’t meant to whine so loudly and shrunk into her seat when Uncle Harrison looked up from his meal. I quickly turned on my heels as he demanded what was wrong. He hated “nonsense while he supped,” and no one was spared from his hand.
“Stay, Gabriella.”
I slowly turned, giving Jessica an angry look. And now I would be punished as well? She couldn’t mock me; Uncle Harrison still awaited an answer. Jessica chose her words carefully…he loved the soup. “Father, I need salt and Gabriella refuses to bring it to me, even when I asked her kindly.”
Kindly. I rolled my eyes and looked to Aunt Beth, who quickly looked down at her food. There were some nights when she would defend me, but it wasn’t one of those nights. Uncle Harrison’s gaze shifted to me and I stood straight. He gave a look to the bowl on the table, and I quickly jumped to get it. I scooped a heap onto the spoon and was just about to sprinkle it over Jessica’s bowl, when she tapped my arm with hers, making me drop the entire spoon into her bowl.
“Oh, Gabriella! That is too much!”
“Why must you play these games?” Uncle Harrison leaned back in his chair, tossing his spoon in his bowl. I smirked but his eye had rested on me. “Do you not tire of this?”
It was Jessica’s turn to smirk. I winced, but he only raised his hand to dismiss me. I turned towards the kitchen but stopped when he cleared his throat.
“Be without supper tonight, Gabriella, and learn your place.”
My stomach wailed loudly at the penalty, and Jessica’s grin grew. I set my jaw and stood straight. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I brushed my hair from my eyes and shrugged. Jessica huffed.
“That is all, Gabriella. Do not make me repeat myself or you’ll find yourself in the cellar.”
I curtsied quickly and opened the side door, forgetting all about my hunger. Hunger was a problem that could be solved…like the captain of the Forty Thieves, I had grown quite talented at picking locks. But no such hope existed in the cellar. Accessible only through a single door that was kept closed tightly with an iron bar before it, the cellar was a dark, terrible prison. The single window let in only tiny rays of sunshine. Even worse, the narrow passage within it led far into the depths of a crypt. I spent many an afternoon trapped inside, my imagination casting shadows on the walls, or turning the drafting wind into menacing wails. I didn’t want to be confined there.
My steps on the walk were nearly inaudible under my rumbling stomach. At least the evening was nice enough. It felt nice to breathe in the crisp, autumn air after spending most of the day trapped inside. I navigated the turns of the familiar path towards the bench, but the boys had already finished eating dinner and were gone. So, I lay upon the bench and bent my arm over my eyes, shielding them from the sun.
The fair maiden Gabriella sat up in a start at the sound of a dove’s flittering wings. He had a golden key in its beak. The key was to a lock in another tree, where Gabriella found enough milk and bread to still her hunger. How kind the dove had been…
I paused my narration, sighing deeply and scolding myself. Even just the thought of food made my stomach growl. I wished the boys would have taken more time to eat. They would have gladly shared their portions.
No. They had worked hard all day too. Aunt Beth demanded the gardens cleared in case her dinner party guests wanted a walk after dessert. The boys had been up since before sunrise to complete such a task. I hadn’t seen Ryan all day, and Sean only for a few minutes when he woke me for morning chores.
Sean was the son of one of my parents’ trading companions. He was older than my sister Angel and me by three years and lived with us quietly in the manor. As a dimorphous dragon, Sean’s life was consistently in danger. His parents had died with mine, murdered by the hands of slayers. Uncle Harrison simply reported that had been careless, and forbid Sean from changing back into the mighty beast of old. Instead, Sean kept his true form concealed, masking himself as a simple lad.
Sean’s deep-set, hooded eyes were the only herald of his secret…bright yellow with long, vibrant green vertical slits for pupils instead of circles. Most didn’t get close enough to Sean to tell, but he remained careful anyway. When Sean’s parents lost their secret, a battalion was brought, and the slayers were called. My parents and Sean’s parents both fought for their lives, but to no avail. We lost all of them in one terrible day.
I moved my arm from my face since the sun shifted behind the manor. I didn’t like to think about it. Sean never changed back, so he was safe. He was our protector, even without changing into his awesome form.
Sean’s kindness is what brought Ryan to us. We had only gone to market when Ryan plowed through us, knocking my sister and I over. Sean caught him, only to find that Ryan was looking for his little brother. We joined the search, but it was well into the night before despair took over. Ryan returned to the manor with us, rather than the lonely alley where he slept. We continued this vain search for three more days, all the while hiding Ryan within the stables at night.
He stayed though. Even after so many years. He didn’t have to stay. We hid Ryan for weeks. Our trickery was only found out when the monthly notes changed from “and a hug for Sean” to “and a hug for the boys.”
Kisses to the seraphs. Our benefactor knew when we added Ryan. Even when we hid him. So why didn’t he know that Angel had left? My dear sweet twin? Would it have even made any difference?
“Stop daydreaming and pay attention to me!”
Jessica rudely pushed my legs aside to sit next to me. I didn’t know how long she stood there, calling my name.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you over the sound of my aching stomach,” I replied. Jessica huffed.
“I didn’t know he would do that,” she replied, simply. “Do not be cross with me.”
I rolled my eyes. “And why not? You’re the reason I will go without eating the entire day.”
Jessica groaned and swung her legs, occasionally kicking mine in the process. “Oh, just find something in the garden, Gabby! There is no need to be cross! Or are you just bitter because of tomorrow?”
I felt flattered that she remembered, but I didn’t blink. I wouldn’t let her get me again. “What? Bitter because of Wednesday? My favorite day? Why, I never…”
“That is not what I mean, Gabriella.” Jessica stuck her chin out and leaned closer to me. “Tomorrow is your birthday! It is your birthday and you’ve got to clean! No one will trouble themselves about it!”
“I will not trouble myself about it,” I agreed, sitting up and stretching. I didn’t want to think about it.
“You cannot fool me, Gabriella.” Jessica smiled at me with a condescending air. “You wish Mother would do something nice, but she will just forget. With you, she always forgets.”
I had no other rebuttals and just stared. Jessica smirked at my silence, reading my eyes. Not again! I spun around and stormed down the walk. Three times in only half an hour. I passed a tomato plant and paused. She danced far behind me, chanting and teasing. I picked a tomato from the vine and threw it. I didn’t hit her, but the tomato splattered against the stone and the juice splashed up onto her white and pink frock.
“Father!”
Oh dear. I ran through the servant’s door, but quickly slowed to
a brisk walk once inside. My arms already throbbed from the day’s tasks. I didn’t want to add a face sore from Uncle Harrison’s fist to that. I passed the opened kitchen door as I headed towards the refuge of my room in the servant’s quarters. On the table near the door, a small, blue bowl sat, holding a fresh pastry and an apple. My dove had arrived!
“Have I ever told you how grand you are?” I asked, calling into the kitchen. Anna didn’t come into view but answered from deep within the pantry.
“Only several times every day!”
“Well, in case you forget…you’re grand!”
Anna laughed as I continued down the hall. Anna was more than grand…even when she wasn’t allowed to be. She used to make Angel and I gifts with no special occasion, she used to read books to us or tell tales of our parents. Uncle Harrison forbade her from doing any of it after Angel left. Perhaps, he was afraid of Angel. She had a stern, no-nonsense personality.
I didn’t.
Anna defied his wishes for a while, adding gifts to my meals, or reciting the tales as we cooked. But even she was not excused from Uncle Harrison’s hand and flaunted many a bruised face. After a few months of steady punishment, even she chose obedience.
Obedience was hard, but it was certainly better than the alternative.
Or perhaps we just needed to be more careful. I paused in the corridor. I would try my luck. I carefully crept up the stairs to my old bedroom, stepping skillfully on the spots that I knew wouldn’t creak. I quickly picked the lock, opened the door and locked it behind me. The fading afternoon sun illuminated my room just enough. I missed it. The large window seats overlooking the avenue were cushioned; a wonderful place to sit and recite my favorite tales. Tiny windows lined the large ones, and I had used pressed flowers to decorate the glass. Now, with the sun behind them, beautiful shapes were cast to the floor.