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

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Chasing Midnight - A Cinderella Retelling (Once Upon a Curse Book 3) Page 22

by Kaitlyn Davis


  Please, show me what to do.

  My life is in your hands.

  I give my fate to you.

  Please, tell me how to save them.

  Ancient words spill from my lips, ones I’ve never heard, ones I don’t know. I murmur the spell, not sure what I’m saying, trusting in my faith. The golden shimmer of the Mother peels away, leaving only darkness behind as the magic in my soul splits. The shadows condense and fold, growing smaller and smaller, at first a sea, then a lake, then an inky pond, until there’s only a small drop left. The words slow, then stop entirely.

  I open my eyes.

  A dazzling light floats in the air above my palm, a diamond with infinite facets, a star twinkling with immortality. I close my fingers around the glow, lest it float away. My skin, I notice, still shines with the magic of the Mother, but something is missing inside. Time is a weight on my heart, a heavy awareness I never had to carry before. Yet the burden is light compared to what I’ll be gaining. A full life. A family.

  I lower my fist, flatten my palm against Ella’s chest, and hold it there until the radiance beneath my fingers sinks into her skin. The Father embraces her. His magic envelops her, spreading invisibly beneath her skin, but it still feels as though it’s a part of me, growing and stretching, getting used to its new home.

  She doesn’t move.

  There’s no pain.

  The magic leaves me entirely, vanishing into her soul until I lose all sense of it. I pull my hand back and sit on my heels.

  “Are you done?” Omorose asks hesitantly.

  I meet her gaze and nod.

  She chews her cheeks nervously. I glance down at Ella, who stares up at me. I feel Frederick’s eyes, and Cole’s too. We all wait and watch.

  Nothing happens.

  “Did it work?” Ella asks. “Did it work?”

  I swallow, drawing in my brows. Why isn’t anything happening? Her curse should break. Her magic should leave her body. Aerewyn should be halfway back to life by now.

  My fingers tremble.

  I curl them into a fist before Ella can see.

  What if it didn’t work?

  What if I was wrong?

  What if I grow old and die and never see Aerewyn again?

  I shake my head.

  This can’t be my destiny.

  This can’t be how it ends.

  “Do something,” I blurt, snapping my gaze to Ella. I hate the panic in my voice, but I can’t fight it. “Use some magic. Maybe the curse doesn’t realize it’s been broken. Maybe it needs to strip time from your soul, to kill you a little, before it’ll notice you can no longer die?”

  Ella presses her palm to the snow.

  A fresh green stalk breaks through the white, rising slowly into the sky. I smile as the tangerine petals unfurl to reveal a marigold.

  “I hate orange,” she whispers.

  I grab her fingers as she sucks in a sharp breath. “I know.”

  The curse strikes. Even this little bit of magic makes her wince. Ella closes her eyes, clenching her jaw as time is stripped from her soul. The fingers laced between mine squeeze. Her face scrunches tighter. Her body shakes, at first in a subtle tremble, then in a wave as her legs twitch violently, tangling with the edges of the blanket while they jerk.

  Ella screams.

  The sound echoes across the mountains, rattling the stars.

  “What’s happening?” Omorose pleads.

  I stare at her, speechless. Ella hardly used any magic. She shouldn’t be in this much pain, not from bringing one tiny flower to fruition. “I don’t know.”

  “Can we stop it?”

  “I don’t know! I don’t—” I freeze as realization strikes. “It’s the curse.”

  “We need to help,” Omorose cries. “We need to do something.”

  “No.” I shake my head, holding her fearful gaze as I sense the pressure beneath Ella’s skin mount, growing into a fervor. “No, it’s the curse. It’s breaking. It must’ve taken time from Ella and realized what I’d done. Now it’s taking more and more and more. It’s trying to fight the new magic I gave Ella. Don’t you see?”

  “I don’t think this happened to Jade and Asher.”

  “Trust me, Omorose,” I implore. “Trust me.”

  She wipes a tear from her cheek and tries to hold Ella’s head steady on her lap. I reach across Ella’s torso, holding it as flat against the ground as I can so she doesn’t hurt herself. Her normally tan skin has gone pale. The veins in her neck swell, but her jaw is clenched so tight no more cries escape her lips. Within her tiny body, the magic is at war. It’s a tidal wave, building and building, cresting higher and higher, crushing her beneath the weight.

  Find the shore, I plead. Please, find the shore.

  The power explodes.

  I’m thrown back with such force I tumble head over heels, rolling once over the snow as the cold sinks into my clothes. Magic erupts from Ella’s still body, flooding out in a rush. It shoots into the sky like a geyser, but it never falls. It just keeps rising, higher and higher as more and more and more pours out.

  Aerewyn.

  I feel her everywhere—her soul, her wild spirit, her strength, and her love.

  She’s free.

  Her magic disappears into the horizon, soaring toward a destination I know in my soul—that crumbling stone wall covered in climbing roses. Any moment now, her magic will find her. She’ll wake up. She’ll need me.

  I scan the area for a bottle of water, ready to pour it over the ground, ready to call a faerie portal to life in whatever liquid puddle I can find.

  Then I pause and stare at my hands.

  I can’t.

  Without Father’s magic, I can’t cross time or space. Without his power, I can’t even use the scrying water to make sure she’s alive. Without that connection, I’m trapped here.

  “Ella!” Omorose’s voice pulls me back. “Oh, Ella!”

  “It worked!”

  Someone topples me from behind as arms wrap around my back. Then another body lands, and another, and another, until the five of us are a heap of limbs and tears and smiles. I give in to the joy bubbling around me. Sure, things are different now. I’m different. My magic is different. But I’ll adjust—because we won. I did it. Ella is curse-free, and somewhere out there, I know in my heart Aerewyn is alive.

  She’ll find me.

  She’ll come as soon as she can.

  I know she will.

  Three days pass with no word.

  My thoughts travel to Aerewyn nonstop, wondering where she is, if she’s alive, why she hasn’t jumped through a portal to come find me, or if she has and something went horribly wrong. My old neuroses crawl out of hiding. The wait is killing me. No—the questions are killing me. The wait is just an added burden now that there’s a little clock in the back of my mind, murmuring that I no longer have forever.

  The exchange was worth it.

  I try to keep myself busy to stay sane, and so far, most of that time has been spent helping Ella understand her newfound magic. I wasn’t sure if she’d be able to wield faerie magic as a human, but with the Father’s blessing beneath her skin, maybe she’s not quite so human anymore. I taught her how to call his shadows, much to Omorose’s frustration now that Ella can disappear in the blink of an eye. Everyone else finds it amusing because her time spent invisible to the light is usually also spent playing pranks on her sister—a snowball here, a little spying there. I think Omorose likes it, despite her protests. I know I’d take Aerewyn’s most frustrating antics any day of the week if it meant I had her back.

  I’m wondering if there’s a way Ella and I could work together to weave a faerie portal, since it requires magic from both the Mother and the Father, but it’s too soon.

  So I turn to other distractions.

  With the humans far away, they don’t seem to sense the little bits of natural magic we’ve been wielding in the village. The shifters change from animal to human at will. They’re still wary of
me, understandably so, but I’m trying to do better. I used my magic to help grow their gardens, which are now lush with food. I grew trees they could cut down for their houses. A thick wall of shrubs now surrounds the perimeter of the village, keeping prying eyes out. I’m sure they’ll build one from stone eventually, but for now, my magic has helped hide everyone if any human patrols stop by unannounced. With water and sunlight, the bullet wound in my shoulder is healing. The process is slow, but I sort of think I deserve it, and I wouldn’t dream of even attempting the healing spell again, not when everyone is finally beginning to accept me.

  I was right before.

  This little village is a beacon, shining toward the future.

  Shifters, humans, a faerie, and whatever Ella has become—we’re all living in harmony, working to build a new world together. Cole loved Frederick’s idea of starting an underground petition to protect the rights and lives of magical creatures. Omorose asked her friends who were living at the base, Jade and Asher, to sneak out supplies. Now we have a video camera, a laptop with a satellite feed, and a device that creates electricity from the sun. Everyone is trying to explain the internet to me, and something called the cloud, which isn’t a cloud, but is invisible and somehow stores information… I don’t get it. It’s difficult enough for me to even figure out how to turn these frustrating human inventions on, so I usually stick to what I do best—magic.

  Which is where I find myself now, alone with my power in what’s become my favorite spot—a wild meadow that reminds me of home. As soon as the snows began to melt, I let my magic sink into the dirt, flaming with the sun’s heat to cast the ice away. In its stead, I grew a field of every flower I could imagine, brimming with color and life. Whenever I have time, I come here and lie within the rainbow stalks, letting my worries lift to the sky and into the Mother’s loving arms, where I know she’ll take care of them.

  “Nymia!”

  Frederick’s voice carries on the wind, frantic and charged.

  “Nymia! Come quick!”

  I bolt to my feet and turn to find him at the far edge of the field. His blond hair fluffs in the breeze, shimmering gold. My gaze immediately goes to his eyes, which dazzle even from this distance, brimming over with excitement. The closer I run, the more I realize the energy bubbling around him isn’t about me—it’s for me. My heart races, but I don’t want to hope.

  “I knew I’d find you here.”

  I grab his hands, trying to read the mystery in his smile. “What’s going on?”

  “You—”

  “Nymia!”

  I squeeze Frederick’s fingers as a second voice finds its way to my ears, playful and light, drawing me back to my youth, to a time when being caught by the priestesses was the biggest worry on my mind.

  My heart stops.

  I freeze.

  After waiting and wishing for so long, I’m almost afraid to look behind him. I’ve heard my name on the wind too many times, only to turn and find no one was there.

  I don’t want to be heartbroken anymore.

  “Nymia,” she says again, softer this time, as though hesitant.

  “She’s real,” Frederick whispers as he steps to the side. “She’s here.”

  I look up.

  The first things I see are tendrils of her bright red hair swirling in the breeze. Then her skin, glittering with magic just like mine. Then her eyes, greener than the new leaves of spring, watching me unsurely.

  “Nymia?”

  That’s when I realize she’s afraid—afraid I haven’t forgiven her for the mistakes she made. But we both made them. And none of that matters anymore.

  “Aerewyn.” The word comes out sounding more like a prayer. “Aerewyn!”

  “Nymia!”

  I run. Then she runs.

  We collide, a mess of arms and tears and laughter. I bury my head in her neck and she buries hers in mine. We squeeze each other so tightly I fear we might mold into one person, but it’s right. It’s how it should be. She’s my other half, and reunited with her, I feel whole for the first time in hundreds of years.

  “I missed you,” I murmur into her hair.

  “I’m sorry.” She takes a deep breath, quivering as she inhales. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know.” I tighten my arms around her, fusing the truth of my statement into my embrace, hoping she hears the forgiveness in my tone. I don’t want this to be a sad moment, so I pull back. Holding her shoulders, I quirk my lips into a grin. “I could throttle you, you know, for making me wait so long.”

  She picks up on my playful tone and smiles, wiping away her tears. “Good thing you’re the patient one.”

  I release a soft laugh even as I roll my eyes. “Where have you been?”

  “Oh, Nymia.” She sighs, shaking her head. Her eyes fill with a mix of anguish and anticipation, two opposites that buzz against one another, bright as day and dark as night, as though I’m seeing our gods alive in her gaze. “You won’t believe what I’m about to tell you.”

  ***

  Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed my twisted take on Cinderella!

  If you have a moment, please consider leaving a review. Even a few words can make a huge difference in someone deciding to give my book a chance.

  If you want to learn more about Aerewyn and her human prince, don't miss the next book in the series, Parting Worlds, a twisted take on The Little Mermaid! It's available now on Amazon and free in Kindle Unlimited!

  Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU

  She'll risk it all to be with the man she loves…

  "I know humans like to start these sorts of stories with 'once upon a time,' but I'm worried that's setting the stage for false hopes. Because we don't all live, and we aren't all happy. Not every curse can be broken, after all."

  Humans are dangerous. That's the lesson faeries are taught as soon as their flower petals unfurl, welcoming them into the world. It's the first thing Aerewyn remembers the priestesses telling her as a young girl. Humans are dangerous—don't show them your magic and never cross into their lands.

  So why then, when she stumbles upon a human boy in the woods, does she find him so intriguing?

  His blue eyes don't shine with malice. His smile doesn't menace. His laughter is as warm as the sun against her cheeks. And when she later discovers he's been knocked unconscious in a storm, injured and alone in the forest, the only thing he seems in danger of is dying.

  So she saves his life—a single act that will change the fate of both their worlds…

  Keep reading for a preview of the first chapter!

  Nine-hundred and ninety-three years ago, I died. Of course, it doesn't feel as though it's been that long to me, only a few days. But as I stare across the meadow and meet my sister's eyes for the first time in a millennium, I know she feels every missing second.

  No wrinkles mar her shimmering sun-kissed skin. No white hairs pepper her honey-colored tresses. She looks exactly the same as she did the last time I saw her—faeries don't age the same way humans do. Yet deep in her cerulean irises, I see the truth. Before that night when I broke my promise and accidently destroyed our world, her eyes were so clear I could read her every thought in a simple glance. Now, they're clouded over and obscured.

  She's changed.

  I think maybe I have too.

  The only question left is, how much?

  "Nymia?" I murmur across the divide. It's the third time I've said her name—the first was a shout, drenched in excitement, the second was a statement, softer and less sure, and now her name rolls from my lips as a question, plagued by doubts.

  So far, my only answer has been silence.

  Does she hate me for what I did? Does she blame me for everything? Can she ever forgive me? I never thought a day would come when I questioned my sister's love for me, yet here we are. The worst part is, I deserve it.

  I broke her.

  I broke us.

  I broke everything.

  "Aerewyn," she fi
nally whispers, word nearly lost to the wind, but I hear it and my soul lifts. Something in her gaze shifts. The fog dissipates and I read hope in her eyes—the same fragile hope warming my heart. "Aerewyn!"

  "Nymia!"

  She runs, so I run too.

  Suddenly, I'm back in time, racing across the flowery fields of a home that no longer exists. I'm a girl with no worries and no fears, a girl without the weight of the world on her shoulders, a girl wild with abandon. I'm Aerewyn, and she's Nymia, and nothing else matters.

  We crash together, laughing and crying as we nearly tumble to the ground. With our arms wrapped around each other, I'm light. I'm free. Breathing in the lily scent always clinging to her magic, for the first time in so long, I feel unburdened. That sweet perfume is home. She's home. And I won't take her for granted again.

  "I missed you," Nymia murmurs into my hair, relief evident in her tone. But there's something else too—pain. Pain I know I caused. How long has she been alone? How long has she been carrying the weight of my mistakes for me?

  Just like that, everything I've done comes rushing back.

  "I'm sorry." My voice quivers as I speak. "I'm so sorry."

  "I know."

  There's no judgment in her tone—no accusation, no spite. Instead, there's something I never expected—understanding. Dare I say, forgiveness?

  Nymia squeezes me tighter, as though afraid I might not be real, then pulls back. She steadies me, the way she's always done, rooting me to the ground no matter how the wild winds in my mind blow. With her warm palms on my shoulders, I find the strength to look up. In her eyes, my past and present collide. As I hold her gaze, memories rush over me, an overwhelming deluge oscillating between all the joy we once knew and all the hurt I caused. Despite it all, she smiles. With that simple gesture, I know we can never go back, but somehow, we'll find a way to move forward.

 

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