A White So Red

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A White So Red Page 14

by Krystle Jones


  “I’m making the observance that it’s strange, that’s all. Usually the only people who have any interest in blood crystals are the Charmed and merchant princes.” His mouth squished together, as if he were trying not to smile. “Somehow, you don’t strike me as the cold, shrewd type indicative of a crooked merchant, so you must be Charmed.”

  Her eyes sharpened. “Why are you so interested in this?”

  He shrugged. “I have no magic. I’m a Barren, like my father and mother. But it still intrigues me, especially the thought of a stone that can enhance one’s magical abilities, assuming he or she has any.” He paused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Thesperia was rumored to be home to many Charmed ones; the royal family especially is said to be quite powerful.” His gaze scrutinized her, looking over every inch of her face. “Tell me, where are you parents?”

  She stared at him. “Excuse me?”

  “Do you have a mother?” he went on, unfazed.

  Natalia’s throat tightened. “She died,” she said curtly.

  Caspar nodded, as if this made sense. “And your father remarried?”

  “I don’t care for the turn of this conversation,” she said, her throat suddenly tight. “So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave.”

  The clearing was making her claustrophobic. Facing Wormwart’s wrath seemed favorable compared to being interrogated by the prince and dredging up painful memories.

  Caspar’s quick footsteps followed her. “What happened to your father?”

  “Dead,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “From what? How?”

  “That’s none of your concern.”

  He caught her wrist and jerked her back around, catching her in his arms. “Unhand me!” She squirmed to break free, but he only gripped her tighter. “Do you truly not have any sense of personal space?”

  “Hear me out,” he said, sounding desperate. “A long time ago, the Thesperian king and queen had a daughter, two actually. They disappeared, presumed dead after the Black Queen took the throne.”

  “Yes, yes, I’ve heard it all before,” she said, turning her face as far away from him as she could. “Any number of rumors floats throughout the land. You know this.”

  He gently placed his fingers under her chin, forcing her to look at him. Moonlight spilled directly into his eyes. Flecks of blue and gold dotted the irises. “You even sound like a princess, using that ‘I’m superior’ tone.”

  “But I’m not.” She stopped struggling and locked her jaw, staring up at him. “I’m no princess.”

  Awe slowly spread over his face. “I knew it,” he whispered. She hated the look in his eyes. They were haunted, as if he had seen a ghost. “You are the lost heir, aren’t you? The Crown Princess of Thesperia. The true queen.”

  With a growl, she ripped free of his hold, eyes flaming. “How dare you! You have no right –”

  “No right to what?” He spread his hands before him, palms up. “No right to call you out for who you really are? I bet your real name isn’t even Snow.”

  “That’s my secret,” she snapped.

  “Two things.” Caspar held up two fingers. “One, ‘Snow’ is a ridiculous name. It’s something you would name your dog. And two, you’re wearing a blood crystal amulet. The only people I’ve ever heard of openly wearing blood crystals are the Thesperian royalty.”

  “Oh, not this again.” She sighed, rolling her eyes and throwing up her hands. “Fine. Say I am who you think I am. Let’s say I have a sister, and we’ve been locked away in a crumbling castle for nearly ten years. Maybe I was even going to be queen. But that’s all gone now. My stepmother –”

  “– is an imposter!” he finished angrily. “She took the throne from you, and you willingly let her!”

  “I let her?” Poison seeped into her words. “You’ve seen what she’s like, what she’s capable of. I never stood a chance against her. Besides, I had my sister to think about. I couldn’t risk her safety.”

  “Did you even try to stand up to her?”

  The phantom scar tissue in her hand twitched, and she flexed her fingers, finding it suddenly hard to swallow. “You weren’t there,” she said in a dead voice. “You don’t know what she’s like.”

  Caspar’s gaze softened. He gripped her by the shoulders. “Listen to me, Snow. My father knew your father well. They were friends for years, though I only met the Thesperian king once before he died, during a summer when my father brought me to stay with you.” He paused, looking like he wanted to say more but then decided against it. “My father met your stepmother once. From what he said, that was more than enough. He always thought there was something ‘off’ about that woman. She was too cold and impersonal for her candy-coated smile to be genuine. I’ll bet my inheritance that she murdered your father.”

  Natalia’s eyes flashed. “My father died in his sleep of a heart problem.” She was angry at how tight and weak her voice sounded.

  “Sure he did,” Caspar said. “And I’ll bet the Black Queen told you that, didn’t she?”

  Natalia’s face turned white. She didn’t realize she was clenching her dress in her fists until her fingers began to tingle.

  Caspar took her silence as confirmation. “You have to stop her, at the very least, to avenge your father. You owe it to him.”

  “I owe that man nothing!” she screamed.

  “Then you owe it to your kingdom!” he yelled back.

  My kingdom.

  Suddenly, the thought of facing the Queen was as terrifying as a death sentence. Yet it was also exhilarating. She stared at her hands, thinking of how she’d blasted Slither against the wall earlier. What if she was powerful enough to defeat the Queen?

  I could save Rose – and our people.

  Caspar’s eyes dropped to her pendant, and he shook his head. “You have all this power, and you’re not even willing to use it.”

  “It’s not that,” she said quietly. “More like, I don’t know how to use it.”

  He blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I never knew I was Charmed before now!” she said, exasperated with having to explain it to everyone.

  When he didn’t speak, she looked at him. His face was determined as he chewed on his lip. “Come with me,” he finally said, taking her hand.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, letting him lead her to a fragile, metallic flower. He knelt, pulling her down into the silver grass beside him.

  He pointed at the flower. “Heal it.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  He made something that sounded like a growl in his throat. “You see? You haven’t even tried, and you’re already telling me you can’t do it.”

  Anger sparked inside her. “That’s not true –” she started then caught herself. He was right, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. She glanced at the flower, seeing how truly shriveled it looked, as if the metal were weighing it down and consuming it whole.

  Like a disease.

  As she stared at the flower, something peculiar happened. It began to pulse with red light, humming with a breath of its own. She leaned forward, every muscle trained on that odd buzzing and the red waves rolling off the plant.

  “I can feel it,” she murmured, “like it’s still alive. It’s calling to me for help.”

  She didn’t know how she knew to do it, but she placed her hand over the flower, letting her palm hover a few inches above its silver petals. Instantly, her pendant flared to life, looking like a brilliant crimson star as red light shimmered in the skin of her hand, seeping into the plant until it was saturated with bright red light. She felt the plant beneath the metal, so cold and dark, and she pulled it to the surface with her mind. An invisible force flooded through her, and she gasped as the red light died away, revealing a fresh red rose with leaves as green as Caspar’s eyes.

  She fell back against the grass, somewhat dizzy and more than a little frightened. The rose’s red petals stood out like drops of blood against the monochromati
c landscape. She blinked, squeezing her eyes shut almost painfully, but when she opened her eyes, the rose was still there.

  She stared at the flower, her face blank. For once in her life, she was completely at a loss for words.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Fragile Reality

  “This is ludicrous.”

  She said it for at least the third time in the past five minutes, sitting in the grass while her brain tried to make sense of it all.

  Caspar watched her carefully, as if afraid she might break at any moment. “You’re trembling, my Lady,” he said softly.

  She shook her head, somewhat in a trance, with her eyes still pinned to the flower. “All this time I thought I was a Barren. My parents were both Charmed, but I thought maybe the gene had skipped a generation. My sister Rose can’t use magic either. Well, as far as I know,” she added.

  Caspar reached over and placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. “Don’t you see?” His face was all excitement. “Don’t you understand what this means?”

  “I’m Charmed?”

  “Not only that: You come from one of the most powerful magic bloodlines in the realm.” He leaned closer. “I bet your power can match the Queen’s.”

  The thought of facing the Queen sent cold shivers through her, but it also sparked a flame of hope inside her heart.

  What if…?

  Drunk on hope, she tried to stand. The world spun and she immediately started to go down.

  “Whoa,” Caspar said, standing and catching her. “Are you all right?”

  “I feel a little dizzy,” she admitted, clutching at her head as if that would keep her vision straight.

  His eyes flickered to the ground. “Maybe it was because you healed the flower.”

  She tried to stand again. This time she succeeded, though when she went to take a step, she stumbled and nearly fell.

  Caspar was right there holding her up. “You’re not well. You shouldn’t be trying to walk.”

  “I can’t stay here.” She omitted the part about the binding contract, of how she would befall terrible misfortune should she stay away from Wormwart for too long. She took a few more wobbly steps and careened to the side, but she managed to right herself at the last second before she went down.

  “Why not?” Caspar asked.

  “Because… because I just can’t.”

  Caspar walked alongside her, an amused half-smile on his face. He paced himself with her uneven, sloppy path. “Is there someone waiting for you?”

  She thought of the dwarves, dreading Wormwart’s reaction. “Possibly.”

  Caspar paused. His expression hardened, as if bracing himself.

  “Is it a man?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Seven of them.”

  His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Seven?”

  She kept her face forward, a sly smile playing on her lips. “That’s correct.”

  Caspar stopped, gaping at her.

  She finally turned to fully face him, smiling. “You look surprised, Prince.”

  He blinked. “Well, it –” He blew out a breath, running his hand through his tousled blond hair. “It wasn’t what I was expecting.”

  Her body tilted to the side as a wave of dizziness slammed into her, but Caspar didn’t move to help her. She rolled her eyes. “Relax, Your Majesty. The seven I speak of are all dwarves.”

  This time, his jaw dropped. “You run with dwarves?”

  She nodded.

  His brows rose and he grinned. “That’s wicked.”

  To her surprise, that produced a giggle. She clamped her mouth shut, a little startled. It was the first time she had laughed in a long while, longer than she could remember.

  Caspar walked up to her. “Do you live in the caves then?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Sometimes it feels like one. But no, they actually have a small cottage.”

  “Why dwarves?”

  She sighed, looking away, her chest suddenly constricting. “It’s a long story,” she said quietly.

  “I have time.”

  She met his gaze. It was steadfast. And kind.

  Damn. She felt her knees tremble and not from using magic.

  “The eve of my eighteenth birthday, my stepmother sent her Ace huntsman to cut out my heart.”

  He made a face. “Nasty.”

  She gave him a look and started to turn around.

  “Wait, wait,” he said, grabbing her arm. “It’s serious, I know. I’ll keep my mouth shut, promise.”

  She searched his eyes and nodded. “I fought him and he almost drowned me in a fountain. Next thing I knew, I was in the river, where someone dragged me out…” She looked at him shrewdly. “Was it you?”

  He blinked, pointing to himself. “Did I drag you out of a river?”

  She tilted her head, raising her brows in question.

  He frowned. “No. Sorry, Snow, but it wasn’t me. How many days ago was this?”

  She chewed on her lip. So much had happened recently that she had to think about it. “Two days ago, I think.”

  “I didn’t make it so far as the river,” he said, shaking his head. “I hadn’t been in the woods longer than half a day when I met you.”

  This unsettled her somewhat. She frowned, trying to remember more about that moment at the river, but she was unable to dredge up anything much between when she was in the water and the time she awoke on shore.

  “What happened after that?” Caspar asked, interrupting her thoughts.

  She recounted the rest of her journey, leading up to her capture by the dwarves.

  He whistled. “Sounds like quite the eighteenth birthday.”

  She shivered. “It was horrible. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

  That wasn’t entirely true, but she couldn’t tell him about the number of times she had been summoned to the throne room feeling like she would keel over from fear.

  “Dwarves can’t be good company,” Caspar said. “From what I know, they’re savage, man-eating monsters.”

  “They do have an appetite for bloodshed,” she muttered darkly and then sighed. “I should go.”

  “Why?” Caspar asked as she walked away.

  She looked back at him, stopping. “Because I have no choice.”

  “You always have a choice, Snow. Are they forcing you to stay there?”

  “Yes, in a way.”

  “How?”

  She groaned. “I… made a promise.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “Yes.”

  “As in, a binding contract?”

  She nodded.

  “Hmmm.” He popped his lips, his brows furrowed in thought. “Those aren’t easy to break from what I’ve heard, but we could certainly try.”

  She weighed the decision. Honestly, now that Tristan was free, what reason did she have for returning? And if Caspar could help me break the binding contract – and I can get a grip on these powers – then the sooner I can go after Rose.

  “There’s another thing,” she said. “Wormwart made it sound like I would grow very ill if I stayed away for too long.”

  “Did he say how long?”

  She raked her memory. “I’m not entirely sure. A day maybe?”

  He reached up, stroking his chin. It was starting to stubble. “Then we’ll have to think fast.” A dark shape flashed across the moon, making them both tense. “We should take cover,” he said. “Though the forest is beautiful, I don’t entirely trust it at night.”

  She shuffled after him, still feeling drained though not as much as when she first healed the plant. “And where are we going?” Not that she wanted to argue. The forest was definitely on the same level of spookiness as the castle.

  He smiled at her, making her breath hitch. Why oh why did he have to have that effect on her? “You’ll see. I think you’ll fancy it.” He strolled past the lake, stopping long enough to grab her sword and hand it to her before heading for the trees.

  Caspar’s
hair shone in the moonlight, making it look as silver as the surrounding woods. They silently walked, each lost in thought as they slipped past trees and over brush until he stopped before a tall wall of purplish rock that shimmered in the pale light. A crack about a foot wide split it in half. He shimmied up to the crack and turned sideways, shuffling through it. It apparently went all the way through the rock wall, at least twelve feet deep from what she could see. The prince disappeared from view as shadows enveloped him.

  She laid her hand against the rock and squinted into the hole. “Caspar?”

  His voice echoed from within, sounding farther away. “Come on through!”

  Intrigued, she turned sideways and inserted herself in the crack. It was a tight squeeze, even as petite as she was. Caspar’s frame was thin, but she had no idea how he managed to get all the way across so easily. The surface of the rock was still a bit jagged. It bit at her palms and snagged her hair as she shuffled along.

  “Watch your step!” Caspar said about the time the floor dropped out from under her. With a cry, she fell and came to a sudden stop as Caspar caught her.

  “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, setting her down. “I should have warned you about that sooner.”

  “Indeed,” she said, a little breathless because her heart had lodged up in her throat.

  “Don’t move,” he said.

  She heard him walk away, but she couldn’t see anything. It was completely dark down here, and the air had a cool, closed-off feel to it.

  A match struck, its tiny orange glow illuminating Caspar’s face as he stuck the little match in a lantern, lighting the wick. It caught flame and the yellow light grew.

  She lost her breath.

  Every surface was purple and pink crystal except for the floor, which was made of the same shimmering purple rock she saw at the entrance. Thousands of facets clear as mirrors glittered back at her.

  “Faery rock,” Caspar said, standing beside her and placing his hands on his hips. “It’s something, isn’t it? Old superstitions say they can heal you of any illness, though most healers have managed to prove that belief wrong.”

  “How did you find this?”

  “I stumbled across this little stream in the woods and followed it until I came to the pond. Finding water was the most important thing to me at the time. Then I poked around the area, looking for a good location to make camp, and I found this place.”

 

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