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

by Kaitlyn Davis

  “I think…” I pause, unable to quite believe the words waiting on my lips. But they’re there. They’re true. And after all we’ve been through, after all his faith in me, he deserves to hear them, no matter what the future holds. “I love you too.”

  “You think?” he teases.

  I roll my eyes and shut him up with a kiss. Frederick laughs softly against my lips, then grips the back of my neck to gently pull me closer. We let the space between us vanish as we explore the new sensation of each other’s lips, tingling with an awareness that what we feel is real, it’s true. Our first kiss felt like goodbye, provoked by desperation, dramatic and overwhelming, less a choice and more a demand. Right now in this tent, with no pressure, no timeline, no one but the two of us to consider, it feels as if we’re choosing each other.

  Wherever she is, I know Aerewyn is watching.

  I know she’d approve of my decision.

  I only wish I could go back and return the favor. What might have happened if I’d helped foster her relationship with her human prince, not scolded her for it? What if instead of forcing her to go behind my back, to act in secret, I’d been more accepting? Would the past have been different? The future? Or was it all supposed to lead to this, no matter what choices we made?

  I pull back and rest my forehead against Frederick’s, closing my eyes and breathing in his presence. Did Aerewyn’s prince bring her peace of mind the way he does me? Did he instill a calmness that grounded her greatest worries and fears? Did his nearness whisper that somehow everything would be okay?

  I wish I knew how he betrayed her.

  I wish I knew why.

  Because sitting here, with Frederick’s arms wrapped around me, hearing his heart thud with a beat just as steady as mine, I can’t imagine ever doing that to each other.

  “There’s one more thing I need to say,” Frederick whispers in the space between our lips. “I wanted to tell you days ago, before you started avoiding me like the plague.”

  “I wasn’t avoiding you.”

  He snorts. “You were.”

  “Ella can be very demanding.”

  “Sure, blame it on the thirteen-year-old.”

  He’s right. Of course he’s right. But I wasn’t ready to face any of this then. I was running from him. I was running from Ella. I was running from my feelings. Maybe not in body, but in mind. I was running from the world.

  I’m done running.

  “What?”

  “I know what my purpose is.”

  A smile comes to my lips as I remember our last conversation about this topic. “I thought I was your purpose.”

  “Well, now I have you,” he says, tightening his arm around my waist. I silently add the word arrogant to the list of adjectives I might use to describe him to Aerewyn when the day eventually comes. “So I thought I’d dream a bit bigger.”

  “How big?”

  “That children’s book full of magical creatures from your world? Those dreams you had about my world? They got me thinking.”

  “A dangerous pastime.”

  He gives me a look and keeps going, ignoring the playful jab. “Everyone from your world, everyone from my world, this whole time we’ve all been thinking of this earthquake as something that happened to us. But what if it’s not? What if it’s something we brought upon ourselves?”

  I lean up onto my elbow, staring down at him as the teasing spirit falls away, replaced with someone serious. “How do you mean?”

  “Our worlds were running parallel, yes?” he asks, and I nod along. “Everything was fine, until something shifted. In your world, humans stole the magic. In my world, we had the industrial revolution. Both of our planets started to suffer. Our earths were dying. I’m not sure if I believe in God, or your Mother, but I don’t know how else to explain it except to say something divine intervened. What if our worlds merged because separately they were both being destroyed, and the only way to save them was by acting together?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Look at it like this,” he says, sitting up on his elbows, impassioned and brimming with conviction. “In your world, humans had all the magic, which left you and the other magical creatures with no way to overthrow them. But in my world, we have technology, we have weapons, we have the means to put the magic back in its rightful place. In my world, all that same innovation was destroying our planet. But your magic can save it. You can help us clean the oceans and the earth. You can regrow forests. You can provide food. There’s so much my people and your people could do if they just worked together—and that’s my purpose. Our purpose.” He holds my gaze, willing me to understand. “To show them how. To teach them not to fear one another. To be an example.”

  His words turn over in my mind, flipping and tumbling and spinning, until what started as a little ball of snow is now a boulder racing down the side of a mountain, growing in size and speed.

  He’s right—and it’s not only the humans who were at fault.

  I think of my world, my old world. Faeries kept themselves apart. Magical creatures kept to their own kind. We left the humans to fend for themselves. We let them starve in droughts when we could have given them food. We let them fight wars over resources we could have provided in abundance. We let them grow to covet our magic, to yearn for it, because we thought it was something they’d never have. But if we’d helped them, if we’d shared our power, if we’d showed them the same level of respect and caring as we gave to the rest of the world, maybe they wouldn’t have wanted our magic so badly. Some would’ve, yes. But not everyone. And that could’ve made all the difference.

  “We’ve been enemies for so long…” I trail off, shaking my head.

  Frederick takes my fingers in his, folding our hands together as he finishes the thought for me. “We should’ve been allies all along.”

  That was Aerewyn’s dream.

  It seems fitting I should take it up in her stead.

  “Where would we even begin?” I ask. It’s a beautiful dream, but I’m not sure if I see how it can be more. Hate is a powerful tool. Fear even more so. I’ve lived them both. I’ve let them guide me long enough to know they’re not so easy to overcome.

  “We need to start small,” he explains, with so much enthusiasm I want to dive into his voice, to submerge myself in it, so I can see the world the way he does—as a place full of possibilities. “If the shifters will let me, I’d love to take some videos of them, and of you. No faces, obviously, just the magic. We’ll make them go viral. We’ll get a website started. We’ll spread awareness and create a petition to save the natural kind of magic. We’ll grow an underground following to get people interested in our cause, so when we’re ready to go public, we’ll have support. If enough people make their voices heard, our governments will have no choice but to listen. At least, that’s what I’ve come up with so far. It’ll be a big job. A tough one too. And it’ll take years to see it through. But we’ve only got one life. I’d rather spend every second of it devoted to a cause I believe in than waste another day doing nothing at all.”

  For some reason his words draw me back to a conversation I had with Aerewyn a long time ago, on a night when we’d snuck out of the meadow and into the forest. We were perched in the highest branches of a towering pine tree, leaning against the trunk and looking at the stars.

  “Do you ever wonder what it’s like to have a family?” she asked me out of the blue.

  “I have a family,” I answered confidently, no waver to my voice, no question. “You. The priestesses. The other girls.”

  “No.” She shook her head with an airy laugh. “A human family. A blood family. To have a mother and a father, maybe a child of your own one day?”

  I scrunched my nose, not understanding. “Why? To what end?”

  What good were a mother and father when we had the Mother and the Father and all the gifts they’d bestowed upon us? Why want a child when we had an entire world to care for already? More creatures and critters and
plants than we could count?

  “Never mind.” She sighed and pulled her legs into her chest, then rested her chin on her knees to stare up at the moon. “It’s just, sometimes I wonder when you live forever, do you really live at all? Maybe the humans have it right. Maybe one life is all you need, if it’s full enough. Maybe one life, with the right person—”

  “Don’t.” I cut her off and clutched her arm as fear raced through me. “Not for him.”

  “You worry too much,” she teased, placing her palm over mine and squeezing reassuringly. But her tone was too light. It rang false. “I could never leave you like that.”

  My heart slowed at her words, because I wanted to believe them, but in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but notice that she never said no. It’s why I buried the conversation, why I tried to forget it, until Frederick’s words pulled it back from the depths.

  I blink and return from my memories to find his curious eyes. In them, I see all the things Aerewyn tried to explain, all the things I never understood until now.

  One life might be enough.

  One life with Aerewyn. One life with Ella. One life with Frederick. If I only had one life, but it was with all the people I loved, I’d be happy. I’d be fulfilled. I’d be whole.

  “What?” Frederick pulls his brows in. “What’d I say?”

  I shake my head.

  It’s not him. It’s me. The answer has been there all along, staring me in the face, but I’m only just realizing it now. “I know how to save them.”

  “Who? The world? You’re sort of stealing my thunder here.”

  “No.” I laugh as my joy bubbles up my throat and spills out, laced with all the glory of the rising sun, spreading light with every touch. “Aerewyn. Ella. I know what to do. I know how to break the curse.”

  I dash across the snow, slipping on the wet slush brought about by the warm spring day, uncaring as the shifters give me strange looks. Frederick follows quick on my heels. Without bothering to announce my presence, I burst through the flaps to the tent Ella is sharing with her sister, breathing heavily as three faces turn to stare at me.

  “I know how to break the curse.”

  Omorose and Cole freeze, while Ella’s face twists into a grin. “I told you guys she’d figure something out. Nymia’s the best.”

  My stomach clenches at her praise—words I know I haven’t earned. But I want to. Someday, maybe I’ll eventually feel as though I deserve her steadfast faith in me. What I say next might be a huge step toward bringing that day a little bit closer. “I can give you my immortality.”

  Ella’s face falls ever so slightly, but I don’t have time to ask why as Omorose jumps to her feet. Her mind is already spinning. “You’re immortal?”

  I nod emphatically. “All faeries are. We can be injured and we can die, but it’s never permanent. The Father can bring us back to life whenever he wishes. Our spirits are immortal.”

  “How can you…” Omorose pauses, trying to understand. “How can you pass that on?”

  “The magic within me comes from two sources,” I try my best to explain. “The Mother, who is all things living and light, earth and air, and the Father, who is all things shadow and spirit, space and time. The gravest punishment we used to bestow upon traitors was to steal the Father’s magic from their souls, stripping them of their immortality and gifting it to the earth instead. Without it, they grew old. When they died, instead of joining his realm, they turned to dust in the wind. But it doesn’t need to be a punishment. I think I can strip that magic from my spirit and give it to Ella instead. Her curse is death. If she’s immortal, she can’t die, not really. The curse will be broken.”

  Omorose’s eyes glaze over as she runs through the possibilities, turning the idea over and over. I know the moment it sticks, because she blinks, finding my eyes with perfect clarity. “That might work.”

  “No,” Ella cuts in.

  We all turn to her. “What?”

  “No.” She shakes her head, staring at me with disbelief. “I don’t want you to punish yourself. We’ll find another way. There’s got to be another way.”

  I probably shouldn’t have been quite so forthcoming with the truth. But once you start being honest, it’s a little difficult to know where to draw the line. “Ella—”

  “No.” She stomps her foot, looking more the stubborn child than she ever has before, yet it warms my heart. “You can’t do that, Nymia. I won’t let you do that. Not for me.”

  “It’s not,” I counter, realizing there’s one more truth I haven’t told her. I told everyone else, but not Ella. And she deserves to know. “I mean, it is,” I say more gently as I step closer and put my hands on her shoulders, imploring her to meet my eyes and see the sincerity within them. “I love you, Ella, and I want to do whatever I can to save you from your curse, to stop the pain I know it brings you, to give you the long life you deserve. But it’s more than that. The magic trapped inside you?” I pause and take a deep breath, darting my gaze over Ella’s shoulder. Omorose’s lips drop into a frown, but she doesn’t try to stop me. “It belongs to my sister. And I’d do anything to have her back.”

  “No,” Ella says a fourth time, but the meaning has entirely changed. Her voice isn’t hard with refusal, but flat with denial, hollowed out by despair. She lifts her hands to her biceps, wrapping her arms across her chest as though suddenly cold. Her body sways with the weight of this new pressure pushing in on all sides. “I… She…”

  I tighten my grip on her shoulders. “It’s not your fault.”

  I never thought I’d say those words to a human with stolen magic, but I mean them. It’s not Ella’s fault. It’s the fault of someone in her family, hundreds of years before, and I won’t punish her for a crime she had no part in committing and wants no part of now. If she reveled in the magic, maybe I’d feel differently, or if she abused it. But she doesn’t. And she’s not.

  “Get it out,” she whispers, scratching her fingers against her skin as though they're claws that can scrape the magic free. “Please, Nymia, get it out.”

  “I will,” I promise her, drawing her into my chest for a hug as I meet Omorose’s eyes, then Cole’s, then Frederick’s. “I will.”

  We draft up a plan.

  I want to perform the spell right then and there, but it’s too dangerous to the shifters, whom I’ve done enough to already. There’s no telling how much magic will be released—if it’ll be powerful enough for the humans to sense from their base or from their mountain outposts. If it is, we need them to track it to a random location, not the center of this peaceful village.

  The same bear shifters who helped us before volunteer again, and we spend the rest of the daylight hours racing deeper into the mountains, to a safe location far away from the humans and from the village, not accessible by anyone without paws. The air is a bit colder, crisper. The altitude leaves us all a bit light-headed. But we came prepared. Frederick wraps a blanket around my shoulders, then takes the spot beside me as we watch the sun set across the range, painting the world in soft pastels. We eat without saying much. When the stars begin to sparkle at the outer edges of the sky, I watch them solemnly. After I do this, I’ll no longer have a place among them. My soul will disappear in the wind when I die. There will be nothing left.

  As though sensing my thoughts, Frederick takes my hand, giving me strength. I rest my head against his, watching the last sliver of gold sink beneath the ridges and disappear. When I glance to the side, Ella is watching us. She waggles her eyebrows suggestively and makes a kissing face, teasing me silently. I stick my tongue out and wrinkle my nose. It’s as sure a sign as any that it’s time to get to work.

  “Okay,” I say as I stand and stretch my arms over my head. “Let’s do this.”

  Frederick and Cole stand back with the two shifters still in their animal forms. Omorose lays a blanket across the snow and sits at the top while Ella eases down. She nestles her head in her sister’s lap, takes her hand, and squeezes it t
ight. I kneel in the open spot by her side.

  “Nymia?” she asks softly. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  “You’re going to be free,” I say, taking the hand on the blanket by her side.

  “Will I live forever?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. I don’t think a faerie has ever given a human their immortality before. I’m not sure what will happen. If it will keep her body young or just her soul. “But you’ll have time, Ella. We’ll have a lifetime to figure it out together.”

  She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and nods.

  I squeeze her fingers, then let go and raise my palms to my chest as I close my eyes. With a deep breath, I dive inside myself, letting the world fall away as I follow my magic to its core, the very center of my being. I feel the warm golden glow of the Mother sparkling deep beneath my skin, and push farther, into the shadows between, glittering with their own sort of power.

  I never saw the ceremony performed by the faerie priests. Aerewyn and I only heard whispers from the older girls, whispers of faeries going mad and murdering their own kind, more myth and legend than actual fact. We asked the priestesses once, and they told us the truth—yes, our immortality could be stripped away, but it was a grave punishment they didn’t think we’d ever need to worry about. We begged the boys across the river to tell us more, but they wouldn’t let their priestly secrets slip.

  I’m not sure what I’m doing as I immerse myself in the magic. I let my instincts lead me forward. I let the Father guide me. Because this doesn’t feel like penance—it feels like providence. I’m supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be doing this. Why else was Omorose led to the shifter castle while I was in my healing sleep? Why else were Ella and I brought together? Why else did Father keep me alive in that human base? I might not know the plan my gods have in mind, but I trust in them wholeheartedly, and they led us all here. I’m sure of it.

  Please.

  I let the prayer whisper across my thoughts.