Chasing Midnight - A Cinderella Retelling (Once Upon a Curse Book 3)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  “Accidents?”

  “Spills, leaks, that sort of thing.”

  “What’s it used for?”

  “A lot of things—powering cars, heating homes, for the fuel we used to fly that plane—” A rumble interrupts the prince and we both jerk our faces toward the sky. I’ve learned to recognize that sound. “We need to hide. Now!”

  He grabs my hand, then Ella’s, and yanks us toward one of the vacant buildings. When he shoves his foot into a door, it breaks away from the stone and falls inward, collapsing in a pile of dust that we run through, coughing as we stumble inside. The roar grows so loud the ground around us starts to shake. Ella and I step farther into the shadows while the prince kneels by the entrance, staring up at the clouds. One plane flies overhead, then another, before the air turns quiet once more.

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” Prince Frederick mutters.

  Before I can ask why, Ella tugs on my hand. “Look, Nymia. It’s a bookshop!”

  “A what?” I narrow my eyes, staring around the space, which is full of shelves—some standing, some fallen over. Beneath the layer of dust and dirt, I can tell it was once a vibrant space full of color and life.

  “A bookshop!” Ella repeats, offering no clarification as she runs deeper into the building, then stops and pulls something from a shelf. “We had this one at the orphanage. It was my favorite.” I read the name across the front—Harry Potter. “It’s about an orphan who finds out he has magic and he gets admitted to this wizarding school. Oh, look at this. Fairies!”

  Ella tosses the book at me. I catch it, for the sole purpose of not being hit in the gut, and curl my lip as I take in the image painted across the front. It’s a very small girl with a round face, large eyes, and glittery wings. “This is a pixie, not a faerie.”

  “Here’s a children’s book full of magical creatures,” Ella continues, ignoring me as she flips through the pages, holding them up one by one so I can see. “A unicorn. A mermaid. A centaur. A phoenix. Ooh, a fire-breathing dragon.”

  “Let me see that,” I mutter, grabbing the book from her hands. I scan page after page, furrowing my brow. Some of the images are pure fantasy, but some are frighteningly accurate—as though the artist saw these animals, as though they knew them. How is that possible? Our worlds were completely separate before the earthquake. Weren’t they?

  Prince Frederick leans over my shoulder, his breath like a warm caress against my bared neck. The steady rhythm skips a beat when I turn the page to a creature we both recognize.

  “That’s what I saw in the ocean that day,” he murmurs, reaching around me to press his fingers to the drawing, brushing the outer edge of my arm in the process. “A hippocampus.”

  “A hippokampoi,” I correct absently, staring at his fingers as they trace the creature’s horselike head and webbed mane. When I turn to look up at him, his face is closer than I realized, hardly a hairsbreadth away. “You didn’t have these in your world before, right? How are they in this book?”

  He flicks his gaze toward mine, meeting my eyes as his hand comes to a stop next to my thumb and grazes my skin. “They were a myth, a legend, stories to amuse children. We never thought they were real.”

  “But they are,” I urge. “In my world, they were real. How is that possible?”

  “I’m not sure.” He frowns. “Maybe our worlds are far more connected than any of us realized, or maybe—”

  He stops cold as the sound of deep voices trickles through the open door.

  We both freeze.

  My heart thumps loudly, drowning out the eerie silence—the sort I know means humans are close by because the rest of the world is holding its breath. Prince Frederick puts his finger before his lips, signaling silence, and then tugs me down so we’re crouched behind one of the fallen shelves. Ella scurries over to huddle beside me as the prince leans around the corner, keeping his eye on the open door.

  Outside, boots crunch on broken glass. The voices slowly grow louder, clear enough to understand. “Infrared picked up two heat signals. Keep an eye out for a possible third target.”

  Beside me, the prince winces. “Bollocks.”

  “What’s infrared?” I whisper.

  He shakes his head, then presses his fingers to his temples and runs his palm over his face. Stress and concern wrinkle his features, but by the time he looks back up at us, gritty determination is the only thing lighting his pale blue eyes. “Ella, I need you to use your magic. Not so much you lose control, but enough that the power goes out and they can’t rely on their imaging systems. Then Nymia, you need to make us disappear like you did before. As soon as we see an opening, we’ll make a run for it, and we’ll figure the rest out later. One step at a time, yes?”

  Ella nods.

  I swallow and do the same.

  “On my signal,” he murmurs as the voices outside continue to rise. A bright beam of light passes slowly over our heads, scanning the shadows of the bookshop. “Now!”

  Ella releases a blast of power that sinks into the ground beneath our feet, making weeds grow in the cracks between the tiles, bright green against the dirt and dust. The light immediately blinks out. In the darkness, her features strain. Wrinkles knot her brow and her face scrunches as she tries to force the magic to bend to her will. It’s like a beast beneath her skin, fighting for control.

  “Comms just went dark,” a voice calls.

  “Radar too.”

  “The truck isn’t working.”

  There’s a beat of silence, followed by a spattering of soft clicks. The hairs on my arms rise as a tingle crawls slowly down my spine. I’m not sure if it’s my own experience or something from Omorose’s past creeping out of hiding, but I’ve come to recognize that sound.

  Guns.

  They know someone is using magic.

  They’ll destroy us if they have the chance.

  I grab Prince Frederick's and Ella’s hands, wrapping the cloaking spell around our bodies as the prince leads us forward, toward a small table against the wall. He crawls under first, then scoots to the side, making room for the two of us. It’s a tight squeeze, but we drape our arms across each other and become as small as possible.

  The soldiers step inside.

  They hardly look human, draped in shades of green with helmets on their heads and goggles over their eyes, arms outstretched with guns half the size of their bodies, in thick black vests that bulk their chests. Ella buries her head against my side. Prince Frederick squeezes my hand. The air simmers with the burn of magic, but they don’t seem to sense it as they creep across the space, crushing books beneath their boots. They keep a formation, circling each other, one man always with a set of eyes in each direction, as though they’re a single person with multiple heads. They don’t need to speak and they don’t need their inventions.

  I hold my breath as they come close.

  One man leans down, glancing at the space beneath the table. His eyes pass over us and he stands, moving on to the next shadowed nook.

  Prince Frederick releases a soft breath.

  The minutes stretch on, warping in the silence until I feel I’ve lived an entire life cramped in the dark. The soldiers are slow, inspecting every inch, but eventually, they leave.

  We wait until the sound of voices disappears before speaking.

  “What now?” I whisper.

  “Will your spell hold up in the sunlight?”

  “Only if we’re perfectly still.”

  “Okay. I can work with that. We need to get some distance between us and them before we make our next move. If I squeeze your hands twice, like this”—he tightens his fingers in two quick pulses, giving a demonstration—“that means stop. No talking in case they’re close enough to hear. Now, let’s go. There’s got to be a back door somewhere.”

  Prince Frederick pulls us from our hiding spot and shuffles us toward the back of the building. We walk in a chain, with him at the front and Ella behind, the two of them connected through me. Ella’s fi
ngers tremble, shaking my arm, but she doesn’t complain. I’m not sure if it’s the pain of her curse or the strain of controlling her magic, but she’s tougher than she looks. And so is the prince. For all his bravado and smiles, he’s sticking to his word. He’s keeping us safe. I never thought I’d live to see the day when a human, a faerie, and a human with stolen magic were gripping each other as though their lives depended on it, trusting each other, helping each other, yet here I stand, using my magic to shield us all.

  The prince pops his head through a door, peering out, before tugging us through. We take a few steps before we hear voices, and he squeezes—one, two. All three of us stop. A troop of humans walks through the break in the buildings, but their eyes pass over us, and they march on. We do too, turning around bends and down streets, moving as far away as quickly as we can. We only need to stop two more times, and then we’re out of the town and into the more wooded area beyond. Houses pepper the abandoned streets, and the prince pulls us around the side of one before finally speaking.

  “I don’t think they saw anything, for now.”

  “How did they find us?” I ask, dropping their hands. The cloaking spell falls away. “What’s infrared?”

  “It’s like the magic radar I showed you, only it tracks heat signals. Every living animal has one, humans included, though faeries might be different. If we can get to a more populated area, they won’t be able to use it. But out here, we’re sitting ducks. Ella—”

  He breaks off sharply when he turns to look at her, prompting my gaze to shift. A fine sheen of sweat glistens on her skin, which has turned a little green. She wobbles on unsteady feet.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “My curse.” She forces the words out, voice strained.

  “Curse?” He flicks his gaze toward me.

  I pointedly keep my focus on her. “How much longer can you hold on to your magic?”

  “It wants to be used,” she mutters. I can sense the power leaking into the ground beneath her feet as she speaks. The grass grows taller in a halo around us. Wildflowers start to bloom. “I’m trying to slow it down so I don’t burn out like last time, but it hurts. I never knew it hurt my mum so much.”

  I wonder if the effect is strengthened because of her age, or because she’s not used to it, or if maybe on some level Aerewyn’s power senses my presence and knows the chance for freedom is near. But I’m not sure. And there’s nothing I can do.

  “She won’t last long.” I look to the prince, watching the questions swirl silently in his eyes. “How can we hide from this infrared when their inventions start working again?”

  He blinks, and I can almost see his mind force itself to still, to focus on the task at hand instead of the new information he’s trying to parse through. “Short of finding a more populated city, where our heat signals will blend with the crowd, there’s not much we can do.”

  “What about animals? You said all animals have them?”

  “Yes, but we’d have to find, I don’t know, a pack of wolves to blend in. I’m not sure about you, but I don’t fancy turning into dinner.”

  I close my eyes and reach out with my magic, letting the Mother fill me as my senses sink into the earth and spread, searching for the heft of bodies on grass or the bite of teeth on leaves. I feel the soft brush of antenna and the scurry of little paws on branches. Then a little farther away, I find what I’m looking for—the heavy weight of hooves.

  I turn to the prince. “What about a herd of deer?”

  Ella falls before we make it halfway there. Prince Frederick dashes forward to catch her, then scoops her into his arms, carrying her with us. If she were awake, I know she’d be swooning, shining so bright her smile would be blinding. As it is, she’s limp as the curse collects its toll. If her extra weight strains his muscles, the prince doesn’t say a word. If anything he moves faster, as though the sight of her pain has mustered a newfound perseverance in him. As I watch the two of them, my body grows warm, as though I’m lying peacefully in a meadow beneath the hot summer sun, content in the Mother’s fiery embrace, except it comes from within, a comfort blossoming from the inside out.

  I send that sense of calm out into the world as we approach the herd, so they breathe it in. Creatures with magic are impossible to influence—their deep connection to the Mother makes them too smart. But other animals are simpler. All a faerie has to do is trick their instincts into welcoming us rather than fearing us. With each step closer, I send a message with my magic—we’re friends, we come in peace, we’re one of you. Deer are terribly frightful, but by the time I see them between a break in the foliage, my magic has stolen their nerves.

  Prince Frederick slows as we approach, but I step around him and close the distance. It’s a herd of females, four does and two fawns with a smattering of white spots down their spines. A branch crunches beneath my foot and they all look up, staring at me. I pause and reach with my magic instead, urging them closer. One doe steps forward, the biggest and probably the oldest. I lift my arm, extending my palm forward. She sniffs the air around my fingers, then shifts her nose up my arm, around my side, walking in a circle as she breathes in my scent. Then she steps to the prince, doing the same to him and Ella. After a few minutes, she returns to the herd and they all bow their heads back to the ground, resuming the feast we interrupted.

  I release a breath.

  “They’ve welcomed us,” I murmur to the prince. Then I dip my magic beneath their hides, touching the little bit of the Mother in each of their souls, and tie them to me so they won’t wander away. They’ll stay with us until I release them. “You can put Ella down.”

  I nudge my head to where the two fawns rest curled in the grass. He places Ella gently between them. Out of his arms, she curls on her side, hugging her knees into her chest, all gangly limbs and childhood innocence, just like the animals beside her.

  I turn away and drop to the ground to dig my fingers into the dirt as I refocus my magic. Berry bushes break through the soil, forming a circle all around us as their branches stretch and intertwine into a protective thicket. Red and blue spots emerge within the green and the deer shift their snouts from the ground to the new meal surrounding them, grazing on the sugary sweetness. I thicken the grass and add some beds of moss, my favorite for sleeping, before growing some tulips and lilies, partly as a thank-you to our hosts and partly because I happen to love them. When I’m done, I turn to find the prince wide-eyed as he drinks in every inch of this newly grown paradise.

  “How…” He shakes his head, glancing at me in awe. “How did you do all this?”

  “It’s what I was made for,” I answer with a shrug as I plop down and reach for a handful of raspberries. “To protect nature and to nurture it.”

  He stares, disbelieving as I pop a red berry into my mouth. “May I?”

  “Sure.” I hold my palm out and he takes one.

  When he bites down, his entire face brightens with pleasure. “It’s good!”

  “It’s just a raspberry.”

  “I know, but I didn’t expect it to taste the same. I’m not sure why.”

  “The magic only enhances the speed of growth,” I explain. “It doesn’t change anything about the plant itself. It’s how we grow all of our food.”

  “Who? Faeries?”

  I nod.

  “How many of you are there?”

  Pain slices deep within my chest, and I drop my gaze to the ground.

  “I’m sorry,” he hastens to say and reaches for my hand. For some reason, I let him. The glitter beneath my skin brightens when his fingers slide through mine and squeeze tight. “I didn’t mean to intrude. Was it the earthquake?”

  I shake my head.

  Something in my expression must give me away because he doesn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he reaches back with his other hand and grabs another handful of berries, then offers some to me. I take a few and we chew in silence, but it’s nice in a way. I might be the only faerie alive in the w
orld, but his presence in this moment makes me feel a little less alone.

  “Thank you.”

  He turns to me and studies my profile. “For what?”

  I’m not entirely sure. The words were as much of a shock to me as to him. There’s something deeper happening between us, something I’m too afraid to acknowledge, so I glance up and meet his gaze, taking the easy way out. “Thank you for traveling with us. Ella and I never would’ve gotten this far on our own.”

  “To be fair, I’m sort of the reason you’re on the run in the first place.”

  “True.” The edge of my lips quirks wryly, but then I pause. “Did you mean to expose me at the ball? At the time, I’d thought yes. Now, I’m not so sure.”

  “Honestly, me neither,” he confesses as a frown passes over his lips. With a deep breath, he collapses back against the moss, crossing his hands behind his head and looking up at me. “I meant what I said. I never wanted to hurt you. But, on some level—on some very deep, naïve level—I might’ve hoped that if people saw you, they’d see what I saw, something majestic instead of something fearful.”

  His words bring a heat to my cheeks and I look away. “But they didn’t.”

  “That doesn’t mean they won’t,” he counters quickly, nudging my knee with his in an intimate sort of tap. “This might sound ridiculous, Nymia, but I feel as though I was supposed to meet you, as though it was fate.”

  I raise my brow skeptically. That sounds like just the sort of thing a human man would say to get his way—sweet empty words.

  “Hear me out,” he continues, rolling back up to a seated position in one impassioned swoop, as though I were about to vanish in the wind. “I’ve always been the only one in my family without a sense of direction. My oldest brother has always known he’d be king one day and he’s spent his life preparing for that. My sister wanted to be a doctor for as long as I can remember, and now she’s the first member of the British royal family to go to medical school. My other brother is an artist and a philanthropist. He travels the world photographing the aftermath of the earthquake and raising money to help communities in need. And then there’s me. Aimless. Boundless. I joined the air force because I love to fly, but my heart’s never been in it. My father used to say I had the brain for war, but not the soul for it. I’ve attended every social gathering that’s ever been asked of me, which has earned me a reputation as a bit of a playboy, but it’s not because I wanted to party. It’s because I’ve been searching for purpose. Or at least I was, until I found you.”