The Puppet Queen: A Tale of the Sleeping Beauty

by Mira Zamin

  ***

  Quenela’s army entered the mouth of the pass and was perhaps a quarter of the in through before someone chanced to look up and see us lurking on the hills above. But if they were to turn back, they would only expose their rear, making it easier for us to attack. Just as the sun was dipping behind our awaiting army at the mouth of the pass and Quenela’s army was almost below us, Niara raised a red flag. A red pennant was raised in response across from us and suddenly, the air was filled with sunlight-dappled dust and the sound of pounding hoofbeats and clinking armor. The pass below was momentarily blackened with arrows and when it cleared below, Quenela’s army was sparser. Then, they were sandwiched between the mêlée of our forces, being squeezed forward into the waiting arms of the infantry.

  As I watched from above with Admiral Kharset at my side, my heart lurched in my throat but I felt a cool satisfaction, the sort which precedes success. Then, as one, as if answering an unheard command, Quenela’s army raised their shields in the direction of the sun. Polished to shine brightly, when reflecting the sun, they blinded our men. In those moments of faltering, the opposition surged forth, and just as the arrows had felled them, their spears and pike ripped through our soldiers. Even from my elevation, I could see the earth below darken to crimson and then black.

  The army at the mouth was now moving forth to reinforce their brothers, but even as they surged forward, they were engulfed. Without speaking, Admiral Kharset grabbed my head and turned it east. Seemingly from nowhere, two prongs of men had come up from behind our army and was slowly working from the back.

  “Fyodor’s men,” I breathed, recognizing his green and black standard.

  “So it appears,” Kharset responded calmly.

  “Seasons,” I gasped, watching powerlessly as our army was slowly shredded from behind. Racking my mind, I could produce no brilliant escape hatch. I had no back-up plan and my powerlessness here reminded me of my feelings when I was faced with my family’s and Auralia’s cursed, sleeping forms. But this time, instead of sleep, my actions had sentenced thousands of men, good men on both sides, with family and friends, to death, to the hail of carnage. But even as I was giving into despair, I saw Niara frantically waving flags at the skeleton of an army left across the way. Once more, the air was dark with arrows, but now they were aimed at the army attacking our rear. Volley after volley was fired until the army at the mouth regained its momentum, taking advantage from the attack upon their opponents.

  Kharset noted, “Our archers are almost useless with everything as mixed as it is in the pass, but Fyodor’s men have not been so lucky.”

  It was a mess below, for now that our line had been broken by their trick with the sun, Quenela’s soldiers mixed with mine, fighting in close combat. Fyodor’s force was under assault by our archers from their pristine perch, but they still hacked relentlessly at my soldiers who crumpled like dropped dolls. I craned my neck to try and better decipher the blur below, but as I leaned over, a quick heat seared me and just as I thought my bones would melt, and I closed my eyes against the pain, it disappeared and before me stood the djinn.

  “I did not call you,” I said in surprise.

  “I have come to inform you that your hideaway for your sister has been breached.” He said the statement with absolute calmness as if reporting on the weather.

  “Seriously,” I answered tonelessly.

  “Unfortunately. I believe he may have had some magical help of his own, perhaps the Pari, perhaps a Pari.”

  My mind suddenly swung to Gwydion’s lover, the only Pari I could think of who had any possible reason to go out of her way to bother me further—as far as the Pari were concerned the curse combined had settled the score between the Khamad and them. Even with Gwydion ostensibly our of my life, he was still finding ways to touch it, to harm me. Was it him then? Had he somehow escaped while we were distracted and discovered where I had squirreled away my sister and was revenging himself upon me for divorcing him? The dark cloud of mad foreboding, which had been placated by hiding Auralia in the crystal citadel but not quite silenced, squeezed tighter around my chest.

  “I thought the fortress was impenetrable,” I protested, my arms and legs trembling. Fear for the army below, fear for my sister, overwhelmed me. My legs unable to support my weight, I crumbled heavily to the ground and gasped as my armor winding me. Momentarily, I pressed my face into the soft palms of my hands.

  “To mere human force, yes. To the power wielded by other magical beings or to items impregnated with their power, it is merely a nuisance. Oh no, they cannot destroy the citadel wholly,” he chuckled hollowly, “but a man needs only enough space for himself to enter. There is no force on this earth which cannot be defeated, in some small way, by another.”

  “What will you do about it?” I demanded from below. From this angle, the djinn’s sharp, dark profile appeared even more knifelike and whisper thin, almost ready to disappear against the sky.

  “I am here to take you with me to Carez to stop it.”

  A tight breath escaped my lips. How could I leave my army in the midst of battle? Even for my sister. I thought of the doubts I had about the loyalty of my generals. I considered what the sight of their queen, standing high against the cliffs, suddenly disappearing, would do to their morale. But I could not leave her to whoever this Pari abetted criminal was. To Gwydion once more. Memories of Auralia’s pregnancy flooded back to me, the fear I had felt, and most importantly, the violation she had unknowingly experienced. I would not let her be harmed again. Shadowy fingers curled around my heart.

  Besides, you’re hardly essential to what is happening here anyways, I told myself, trying to placate my guilt.

  “Why can you not remove the intruder yourself?”

  “It is an ancient thing, from the time that Djinnat could only exercise our powers when we were slaves of humans and obliging their whims without recompense. Just as we cannot grant our own wishes, we cannot interfere with what our magic has wrought. It is, I think,” he added, in a fit of philosophical pique, “in order to ensure that we do not alter the world too far from its natural trajectory.”

  As the battle raged below, I told Kharset of my departure. He took what I said about Auralia and the citadel with the unflinching steeliness of a military man, but still protested. I stood firm despite my own misgivings. A part of me wailed that I was surrendering my very right to be queen, while a greater portion insisted that family comes before all, even a kingdom, and especially a family whose downfall I had predestined with my very birth. I owed them everything and had given them nothing but sorrow. I was the only one left and it fell to me protect Auralia, just as I would have wanted Auralia to protect me. Even though I did not know who or what awaited me in Auralia’s fortress, I was unwilling to take any men with me, but Kharset’s will prevailed and I was saddled with a small bodyguard of five men.

  “I will be back soon,” I said to Kharset. I hope. He watched me discontentedly.

  “Ready, your Majesty?” asked the djinn as I approached with my retinue.

  “This will seem vaguely familiar to you,” I said to my companions as I nodded my assent to the djinn. For the umpteenth time, the world went dark and I was once more blended with the hot ether. After a lifetime of being broken and reshaped, I opened my eyes to the reddish desert sunset, the dry air making my eyes water. The mound of desert roses stood before me, glowing orange and crimson. Despite the miasma of evening, I could make out a gaping hole, just large enough for a full-grown man to squeeze through, beat into the front, where the gate had been once. In the dreamy twilight, I could easily imagine Gwydion wriggling through the hole, formed with the help of his Pari paramour.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the djinn part his violet lips to speak, but I, with my small regiment, had already reached to the dark hole and slipped through. One of the men produced a lantern, and the faint smoking light illuminated a glittering rosy labyrinth. Apparently, just as the crystals had formed a shel
l outside of the castle, the djinn had directed them to form a cave-like maze within. The sight gave me hope. If we could navigate the maze, there was a chance I could reach Auralia before Gwydion.

  Despite the light of the torch, my vision remained obfuscated, as if a shadowy mist obscured the unfolding labyrinth, rendering everything indistinct. Cautiously, we followed the narrow path until it veered to a sharp T.

  “Should we split, your Majesty?” asked one of the soldiers. Even in the dim haze, his copper red hair was bright.

  I considered the option, knowing that it would reduce the risk of taking the wrong path, but I also realized that we would come to many branches. Moreover and most importantly, I did not know any of these men well enough to trust with my sister, should they find her before me. “No, I think it best we remain together—at least for now.”

  So we persevered forth, invoking the Seasons as we chose between different branches and twists of the maze. It was evident that something surreal was afoot. In my memory, the distance between the door and Auralia’s resting place could not have been more than a hundred yards, the labyrinth yawned for miles. We persisted until my shoulders grew taut with bearing the weight of the armor and my legs trembled in fatigue. I paused to catch my breath, wiping sweat-soaked hair out of my eyes and I righted myself once more.

  Suddenly, the shimmering walls around us began to tremble, growing effervescent. In fright, I grabbed the burly arm of one of the soldiers and with fascinated horror we watched the shaking walls reform themselves so that the straight path we had stood before suddenly forked into four veins.

  Extricating myself from the soldier, I peered down each of the ways. My crown slipped slightly over my brow and I impatiently pushed it up. “I think we are either at the end or Gwy— whoever else is in here, is still in here. This is obviously meant to be a trick for trespassers, which we certainly are not.”

  “Which way, madam?”

  I frowned in thought. Each of these routes was identical as far as I was concerned. I counted to seven, for Auralia was the lucky seventh child in our family, and so my finger fell on the penultimate lane. “This way.”

  Now wary of the treacherous walls, we carefully picked through the path. Luckily, it held undeviatingly true. This steadiness should have calmed me, but all I could envision was Gwydion with my sister once more. My stomach clenched, largely in fear, partly in disgust, and yes, just the smallest, most infinitesimal part of foolish jealousy.

  We increased our pace, although it was difficult for me to maintain, armored as I was. Although I was loath to lose the protection, I knew we had to be fleet to reach Auralia in time so I unceremoniously dumped the metal in a shining heap. It glowed of its own accord and I realized that it was Pari-forged and likely priceless. “Ah, Seasons!” I cursed, the parsimonious girl born of the years in Viziéra unwilling to leave something so valuable behind. But what lay ahead was far more precious.

  Soon, we lost all sense of time and the torch guttered low. I grew cold at the idea of being lost in the dark in this unforgiving maze, ever-twisting, ever-turning, unable to reach an exit let alone Auralia. Although our stomachs informed us once it was time to dine, other than a few rations, we had nothing to sup on and we did not know how long we would be trapped. When we had started out, I had been optimistic, thinking that the maze could not have been so dense or convoluted. And even the lamp at my throat was powerless to help. In the dark it was only too easy to give into fear, but seeing my unease, or perhaps feeling their own, my small troop broke out into jovial songs, which made the darkness seem a little less dense and impenetrable.

  If I let my mind wander in the forgiving dark, it would jump with breathless anticipation to seeing Gwydion once more and no matter how many times I forced my mind towards a more reasonable train of thought, it constantly wheedled itself back into imaginings. My singing trailed off. How would I greet him, then? He was despicable, the lowest form of a person. It would be better for me, I knew, if the trespasser be some random, curious passerby, tempted by the prospect of what lay inside a glittering fortress. Yet, a part of me, small but powerful, relished the thought of reunion. It will take some time for me to be fully rid of the memory, honeyed in wishes of an ideal in my heart, I reflected, forcing myself back to my soldiers and joining them once more in song.

  The air grew fresher, blowing through the tunnel and ruffling my hair. Soft silver starlight melded with the sparkle of the crystal maze walls. Close. So close. Leaving my guards behind, I surged forth, ready to protect Auralia.

  And then I saw him.

  Chapter Thirty-One