by Ann Hunter
Juliet’s brow creased. She grabbed Lio’s broad shoulders. “Where’s Tybalt?”
Villiana produced a vial of blue liquid. “He had this on him. Probably intended to poison Tybalt if stabbing him didn’t work. Such underhandedness.” She tsk’ed. “I can’t believe you pity them.”
Juliet put the pieces together and staggered back. Tybalt’s dead. Whether out of agony for his loss, or desperation to bring Lio back to life for Romeo, Juliet lashed out at him; screaming, smacking him across the face, beating him on the chest. Lio took it all, like a hollow shell.
“He got what he deserved,” her mother said coldly.
Juliet took the vial from her cautiously. Her voice still trembled. “I’ll call the apothecary and see if they know anything.”
Villiana nodded curtly. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must let the High Prince know what has transpired. Tybalt must be avenged.”
She watched her mother go, gripping the vial so tightly her hand shook. Any tighter, and she’d crush it. Romeo moved to Lio, prodding him.
“It’s no use,” Juliet muttered.
“Benvolio!” her mother commanded from the top of the stairs, not bothering to look behind her.
Lio turned, and mechanically followed after her.
When she was out of earshot, Romeo’s words dripped slowly from him. “I think… I think I’ve died inside a little.”
Juliet heard him whisper under his breath with such sadness, “Mi corazón… se rompe.”
“Romeo—”
“He wasn’t perfect, but he was my brother.” He turned to Juliet. “Y’know?”
They reached for one another’s hands. Juliet gazed at them woven together, and nodded. “I know.”
She felt the same way for Tybalt. A heaviness hung between them. Without a word, Romeo pulled her forward, and she followed him willingly, blindly. Knowing that her mother was sending word to Escalus this very minute, that their world was ending, and the charade was over. They burst outside, hurrying toward the beach.
“Do you realize what this means?” She asked, her voice almost lost in the breeze. “Didn’t you have two brothers? Wouldn’t they have protected each other? If Benvolio is a thrall, and Tybalt is dead, so is your other brother!”
They ducked under the boardwalk, with only shadows to hide them. Juliet ran a shaking hand through her hair, thinking of Escalus and Paris.
“He’ll know. He’ll know, he’ll know, he’ll know.” She panicked. “And they will come after you, and—”
Romeo cut her off by sealing his mouth to hers. Death was finally at the door, and he couldn’t wait any longer. She tasted of ginger and the wine he drank at Sacrament last Sunday. Juliet seemed stunned at first, but returned his kiss, and he couldn’t help but smile against it. Indeed, sweet Sacrament. And they broke down, and mourned together; a kiss of bittersweetness, salted by their tears.
The tide rolled in, lapping their feet in the sand. The moment shifted Romeo’s world; the two of them bathed in moonlight, with a girl he couldn’t love more, and a shared aching of loss and hopelessness. “Hoy y siempre, mi amore,” he whispered. “We’re in this together.”
She grasped his wrists, and nodded with a sigh. The vial pressed between her hand and him, and she remembered what she had said to her mother. Juliet stepped away from Romeo and uncorked the vial. Her nose wrinkled, and she turned her head away at the noxious scent.
“What is it?”
“Did you ever smell this?” She asked, passing the vial under his nose.
It made him cough. “Smells like the stuff Mama gives me to help me sleep when I’m sick.”
“But stronger. Right?”
Romeo nodded.
Juliet lowered her nose to it again. Baring through the fumes, she picked out individual herbs and oils in the vial. She shoved the cork back in. A sleeping draught.
This might be the key to fighting back.
Escalus sat in his high-backed throne, conversing with Paris beside him; minor matters of state, and stories of Paris’s heritage. Their home was not unlike Hearst Castle, with its extravagant tapestries, and heirloom furnishings. Escalus had been there once, and liked the style. A prince didn’t require medieval torture chambers these days. There were other more tantalizing ways to soothe his humor.
“And that’s how Uncle Marius and Aunt Cosette were turned,” he roared in laughter.
Paris leaned forward, gasping for air from the joke. “Stop, stop, my cruor is bubbling.”
“Oh those Thernardiers. Thought they had it all in the end, didn’t they?” They caught their breaths, and Escalus gave him a meaningful look. “How are the preparations going for Juliet’s arrival?” he asked his grandson.
Paris brightened with a smile. “Very well. I think she’ll be quite happy in the wing we’re honoring her with. Thank you for allowing me to oversee it.”
“I’m glad you’ve taken such an interest in the project. As you know, that area hasn’t been used in years. Not since your mother…” Escalus trailed off, shifting uncomfortably. He cleared his throat. “It needed a good renovating.”
Paris squeezed his arm with a look of understanding. “It’s the perfect wedding gift. Mother would have approved.”
The doors of the throne room opened as a squire hurried forth. His steps rang against the polished mahogany floor. “Your Highness, a message from the Capulets.”
Escalus waved his fingers, reaching for the scroll. Paris leaned toward him to read.
“What does it say?”
Escalus’s mouth drew in a tight line, almost frowning. “Tybalt Capulet has been murdered.” His hand dropped to his knee with the letter.
Paris fell back in his seat. “Poor Juliet,” he whispered. “I understand he meant a great deal to her.”
“Lady Villiana demands restitution.” He rolled up the letter and passed it back to his squire. “Rightfully so.”
“What do you suggest?”
“The Montagues must pay. An eye for an eye. We need the Capulets as much as they need us. There are expectations now that the engagement is official. What sort of husband would you be if you did not take action?” Escalus turned his gaze to his guards, but his instructions were to Paris. “Take the Royal Guard and hunt down every last Montague in Verona. Use poison if necessary. Romeo must die.”
ROMEO MUST DIE
As soon as she could, Juliet called the apothecary to inquire about the vial’s contents. She told them what she thought was in it. Within hours, a courier arrived with a tome of potions, and a number of notes the Apothecary thought might be helpful. She poured herself into it all through the day, and far into the night.
The archaic ink on the yellowed pages seemed to move and swirl as though they had their own life to them; a pulse beating and pumping information in a visceral way. While troubled by her problems, Juliet found a great well of satisfaction delving into the depths of the tome. Something about research was very cathartic. If she weren’t so tired, she might have geeked out completely.
The triumph of finally finding the potion’s page was dampened by the contraindications. Juliet bit her lip. The further she read down the page, the darker the side-effects became. She snapped the book shut. The Draught of the Eversleep wasn’t a sleeping serum at all, but a death sentence.
Come morning, she returned to Romeo in the greenhouse. He was already up, watering the plants. At least her parents wouldn’t think she was a completely inept thrall trainer. Though her heart was heavy, she went to his side, and kissed his cheek.
“I don’t know how long we’ll have. I overheard my parents say that Paris is on his way. The Royal Guard will capture you one way or another.” Her throat tightened, and she winced against tears that threatened to come. “Oh, Romeo. I’m so sorry I dragged you in to all of this.”
Romeo set the watering can down and turned to her, taking her into his arms. “No, no. No lo siento. Life’s too short to have regrets.” He caressed her cheek, looking into her eyes li
ke he could see her soul. He smiled. “Up until last night, it’s been the best week of my life.”
Juliet showed him the notes she had taken from the Apothecary’s tome. “It’s not a sleeping draught. The serum doesn’t work that way on us. It would strip me of my immortality.”
Romeo hesitated, seeming as though he was choosing his words carefully. “Isn’t that what you want? A mortal life. We could grow old together, have a family.”
“The book said if I die, my mate will turn to ash. Paris is my natural mate.” She shook her head, taking his palm from her cheek and kissing it. “He doesn’t deserve that.”
“But you wouldn’t be dead, only human.”
She shrugged hopelessly. “Same thing.”
Romeo’s brow creased, as she continued, “I can’t risk disgracing my family further. If drinking this would change me, and kill Paris, Escalus’s wrath would be the end of my clan.”
“I understand. I don’t want any more killing either, but I do want to be together.” He paused. Juliet could sense him thinking things through. Romeo nodded, as though he’d found an answer. “I’m going to find some place safe where the Royal Guard will never find us. Maybe if I appeal to Father Laurence— tell him you’ve given up your immortality— he’ll help us. He’s always preached forgiveness.”
“Me?” she scoffed. “In a church?”
“You wouldn’t be a vampire anymore. There’s nothing keeping you out. I’ll be waiting for you at the cathedral, mi corazón.” He kissed her in a way she never wanted to end. Her mouth trailed his as he broke away slowly, headed for the door. “The choice is yours. I’ll support whatever it may be. If I do not hear from you in three days… I’ll know.”
As daylight seeped through the door jamb, Juliet winced. In the distance, she heard the vanguard coming in the distance. “Run.”
Romeo blew through the doors of the cathedral without breath. “Sanctuary, Padre! Dame santuario. Ayúdame por favor.”
Father Laurence looked out from his office with awe drawn on his face. “You live.”
He hurried toward Romeo and hugged him tightly; a lamb back in his fold. “Your poor mother will be overjoyed. She’s not been doing well these last few days. She’ll be relieved to know you escaped the Capulets.”
“Escaped?” Romeo shook his head. “No. I didn’t escape. I love Juliet. I have to go back for her, but I need your help.”
Father Laurence held him at arm’s length, his expression gone murky, and his tone even darker. “You persist in sin on this unholy union. How can you ask such a thing? Does she have you under some sort of spell?”
Romeo shook his head adamantly, regaining his breath. “She was never like them, Padre. She may give up her immortality. In one of your sermons, you said that no greater love exists than to lay down your life. She loves me. I love her. Please help us.”
“You’re saying she’ll forsake everything she’s ever known to be with you?”
“She’ll be able to walk in those doors like any other man,” Romeo insisted. “Eh… chica, I mean.”
Laurence stepped away from him, rubbing his chin in thought. He turned to Romeo. “And what will you give in return? Love cannot go one way and thrive.”
Romeo blinked at him blankly. Laurence’s words went straight to his core. Romeo loved Juliet, didn’t he? They wanted to be together. Was he being selfish asking her to give up her immortality so they could have their happily ever after?
“I cannot deny you sanctuary, but if I help you, you must find a way to make right what has happened in your family. You have are free to choose, but not free of the consequences. You, too, will need to die… in a way. A spiritual death, so to speak. So that you may be reborn.”
Romeo Montague stood tall. He would prove his love, no matter the cost, just as surely as Juliet would walk through those doors, three days hence, with glorious dawn behind her. A child of the night no longer, but a woman able to walk by his side in the light.
“Whatever you ask of me, I will.”
THE RECKONING
Juliet folded her arms over her rolltop cherrywood desk, staring at the rays of sun seeping through the Draught of Eversleep from a split in her window curtains. The blue liquid rippled, creating a web of light like the ocean depths.
Drinking the fluid would put her into a death-like sleep for two days, and she would wake no longer immortal— able to live out her days with Romeo. What was two days in a lifetime?
If she was human, would the rest of the family ever want to see her? Would it matter if Escalus found out if she never saw them again anyway? She was disowned either way. She had nothing to lose. A verse of Tennyson entered her mind; Better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.
She pulled a piece of parchment from her drawer, and started to write.
My Dearest Romeo,
I am to undertake the Eversleep. In the two days it will take for it to change my cruor to blood, I will seem to all but you dead. You will find me in the crypts of my clan, beyond the Northwood and the great red trees. Know that in my heart, my love for you will remain immortal.
Yours, Now and Forever,
Juliet
While the ink dried, she took a flame to a stick of wax until it began to drip, then folded the letter, and sealed it with her own stamped emblem, JC
All that was left was to get the letter to him. Who could she trust?
Footsteps thumped down the hall, padded by the royal red carpet runner that ran the corridor. Juliet looked over her shoulder to see Benvolio ambling past. He was exactly who she needed.
She raced out of her quarters to him, taking on the commanding voice needed to control him. “You there, thrall.”
He continued aimlessly down the hall, but she would not relent.
“Benvolio.”
He moaned listlessly.
She ran toward him, grabbed his elbow and turned him toward her. “Lio, Are you listening to me?”
He finally met her eyes, and she realized he’d had some training with her mother already. There was a bit more life to him than when Villiana had first brought him home. The most advanced thralls acted almost human, except the only soul they had was the will of their master.
Juliet lowered her voice. “You are Lio Montague, brother of Romeo Montague. Do you remember?”
After a moment, Lio grunted, “Unh.”
Juliet had to have faith he’d do as she asked, even if he still seemed a bit fresh and dense. “Take this to your brother at Father Laurence’s cathedral.”
“Unh?”
“The cathedral.”
Lio slowly took the sealed parchment and started ambling the other direction. Juliet jogged to him, and turned him around.
“No, you big enchilada! The cathedral.”
“Unnhhh,” he moaned as though clarity came to him.
She continued to guide him down the hall. “Take it to your brother. Do you understand? He’ll trust you.”
Juliet watched him continue down the corridor, tucking her lip in worry. She’d better find a second higher trained thrall to go with him.
Paris and his grandfather’s Vanguard had the cathedral surrounded like snipers. To the average man, Paris merely was shouting into void, his army unseen. Two days had already passed, but to man it had only been hours. That was the power of illusion.
Romeo and Father Laurence had taken a stance high above the chapel where they could peer out onto the city from the safety of the church. The stained glass depicting Gethsemane above them bathed them in fractured technicolor light.
“Did you truly believe she could love you, when she already had me?” Paris called.
Romeo rolled his eyes. “Ay, Mami. Do you hear this chamaco?”
“I am a Count.” Paris paced. “I am royalty. And who are you to her? You are beneath us!”
Romeo triggered, like an itch that couldn’t be reached, and tried to go outside, but Father Laurence held him back.
“Think of Juliet.”
“I have time that you don’t, Montague,” Paris yelled. “I can do this all day. You are wasting your time in there. Hiding will only delay the inevitable.”
Romeo clenched his fists as Paris neurotically said, “Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.”
“He’s driving me cocobananas, Padre.”
Paris didn’t stop his counting until two thralls showed up. Romeo squinted, trying to see them better, and nearly bolted when he realized one was his brother.
“Lio!” Romeo yanked away from Father Laurence so hard and fast, he was unstoppable.
Down below, Lio passed a letter to Paris who opened it, read it, and frowned. He passed his hand over the parchment, and it resealed itself as though it had never been opened.
Romeo threw open the door, and the Royal Vanguard leapt down from every corner of the block. Paris raised his hand, signaling their halt. He gazed sternly at Romeo.
“So you’re not a coward after all.” He followed Romeo’s stare to Benvolio who momentarily smiled.
“Unh!” Lio called.
“’Mano.” Romeo wanted to run to him. Instead, Paris held out the letter, and Lio reclaimed it.
“He’s my brother,” Romeo clarified. “Mia familia.”
Paris folded his arms behind his back, and hung his head. “It seems we have something in common.”
Romeo took the letter from his brother, who squeezed him in a Frankenstein-strength hug then bumbled away. Romeo broke the seal, and read.
Romeo,
Juliet undertook the Eversleep, surely at your bequest. You may have believed that you could have had a life together, that this serum would make her mortal, but it went terribly terribly wrong. She has suffered, and I have you to blame. If you have any love for her, you will do the right thing. Surrender your life.
~Villiana Capulet