A Curse of Thorns

by Nicole Mainardi

  “Of course. I’d do anything for you, Belle,” he told me. “Maybe if you took your head out of your books once in a while, you’d see that.”

  My mouth turned sour and I had to bite down hard on my lip to stop myself from yanking out of his grasp. Sean had caught me reading a pre-Regime book when we were fifteen, just before I’d been attacked by a wolf in the Black Forest. I’d been expecting him to tell on me right then, but he kept his mouth shut and helped me hide it in my bag. I thought that would be the end of it, but he knew all too well that I hadn’t stopped reading illegal books that day, and he’d always held it against me. I owed him a great debt, but I hated living every day knowing that he could turn me in at any moment if he wanted to.

  “There’s nothing wrong with reading,” I replied automatically.

  He gave me a knowing look, keeping my hair in his grasp. “It’s just unnecessary for someone in your…situation to educate yourself more than you already have,” he explained. “When we’re married, you won’t be working at Alinder’s anymore; you’ll be at home, doing the house chores all day and tending to the children.” He smiled, as if his words should warm me. “You won’t even have time to read anymore.”

  I felt bile rise in my throat. “Thank you for the bread, Sean,” I told him coldly.

  His fingers dropped from my hair and he nodded wordlessly. I left his shop quickly and headed home, hating the idea that around this time next year, I’d be married to him, an arrangement my father had come to with Aiden years before I’d had any say in it, in exchange for nearly all the money he’d squandered. Sean wasn’t a bad man, but his father had pulled him out of school to apprentice at the boulangerie before he could finish, and now he resented those that were more well-read than him. Which, to be honest, wasn’t very much of the population. Alinder and I were greatly in the minority.

  The cold wind nipped at my exposed skin as I pushed back through the market, picking up my pace as I ran my fingers in my hair to get the flour out, leaving my hatred behind me. What mattered was that we’d have bread for the next week, and money to spare.

  Chapter 3

  The Howling of the Wolves

  BASTIAN

  I kicked out at the hay-filled dummy chained to the ceiling, taking heed not to rip the material of it with my sharp claws. That would be the third one this week I’d managed to take out of commission, and I imagined Sophie was tired of stitching new ones. But training in my weapons room was the only thing that could take my mind off of my curse, and sometimes I got carried away.

  I curled my right fist and my claws dug into my palms. It was becoming harder to keep myself in check these days. Normally, I was very disciplined—I gave myself entirely to the fight, feeling the raw power from my curse flow through me to my limbs and clear my head to focus completely on what was in front of me. Tonight was different from most nights, though, and that fueled my anger.

  The blue-fire torches lining the walls flickered as I closed my fist and took a swing, knocking the dummy back only to have it come back towards me again, faceless and mocking. My mind was stuck on her: the forest girl in the hunting gear, who’d taken down a rather large pheasant with a single arrow straight to the eye today. She’d almost caught me this time—her senses were so finely tuned that it was becoming more and more difficult to be near her without her noticing.

  The dark magic in my veins took over as I swung again, thinking about the first time I’d seen her. When I felt like I could no longer be at the castle, with its cold walls and stifling stones, I’d dared to travel close to the village. To my Briar.

  And that’s where I’d first noticed the girl, who had been stalking a deer far too deep into the Black Forest, as I chased the wolves away before they could attack her

  Without realizing it at first, I kept venturing out to where I knew she’d be. I’d seen her so often this past year, and I knew I shouldn’t be following her the way I was. But, from the first moment I saw her, she’d stolen my breath. She was—

  “Bastian,” my governess, Sophie, called through the door, and I stopped the swinging of the dummy as her voice echoed loudly around the windowless room. Breathing hard, I realized I’d barely heard her, my mind still reeling from the girl. I took one look back at the dummy, cotton spilling out of the shredded body as if there were a sheep hiding underneath, and growled low in frustration.

  I turned back to Sophie, and she was smiling knowingly. “Dinner’s ready. You can throw that dummy with the others after.”

  Smirking at her, I stepped out of the training room and together we walked towards the dining hall.

  Sophie peered over at me. “There’s something different about you lately. It seems like you’ve been…distracted.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know, Soph,” I sighed. “I just can’t seem to get this girl out of my head.”

  Panic overtook her features as we entered the dining hall. “You’re not going to—”

  I tried to keep my sudden anger and self-loathing under control before I answered her. “No. I don’t do that anymore. I won’t do that anymore.”

  She looked up at me, hopeful but hesitant; I could see that she didn’t trust what I said. And to be honest, I wasn’t sure I did either.

  But the one thing I did know was that I felt lighter than I had in years, and I was certain it was because of the girl with the silver scars.

  Chapter 4

  Far Prettier and Cleverer

  BELLE

  “ You can’t keep going into the forest alone like that, Belle,” Lila told me as she sat cross-legged, her back to the fire. “What if you get lost, or run into the Beast?”

  “Come off it, Lila,” Emily responded, running her fingers through her wet, tangled hair.

  “Why?” Lila demanded stubbornly.

  “Because it’s a stupid story and completely untrue,” Emily scolded our youngest sister, a winter bite in her tone. I’d never told them the story of the Beast because of how relevant it was to us, to how it affected our lives, but I couldn’t stop other people from telling it.

  Lila’s cheeks grew red and she looked away.

  “Oh, leave her alone, Em. She’s just a child.” I stood at our small stove, tending to the tea and wondering what had gotten into Emily. The longer father stayed away, the more the three of us were on edge, but I noticed that Emily in particular had been grouchy lately. “Let her have her stories.”

  What I didn’t say was that, now that father was gone, those stories were one of the few things Lila had left to hold on to. But it didn’t need to be said. Father had been gone for over a year now, and the only thing that kept us alive was my job at the bookshop and Emily’s work at the dairy after school. It was barely enough to afford coal for the stove and wood for the fire in our meager cottage. The Regime kept all vital resources under their close control, and if you couldn’t pay your taxes, they didn’t give you another chance to come up with the money. They cut you off for a minimum of three months, and you were lucky if it wasn’t during winter. But we always made due.

  I also didn’t say that I believed the story of the Beast.

  “Where do you think—” Lila began after a moment.

  “Don’t start this again, Lila,” I interrupted her softly, setting the hot tea kettle down on a stone pad in the middle of our kitchen table, covering a large crack in the wood. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  Lila nodded smartly and scrambled over to the table, while Emily stood on her bare toes to reach into the single wooden hutch for our old china cups. We’d done the same thing every night now for the past year: the same old chipped cups, the same leaves of chamomile tea that we would use as many times as we could before they were leached of flavor, the same bag of rationed sugar, a small bucket of milk that Emily would bring home at the end of every week—and Lila never ceased to inquire after Papa.

  But at least we had bread tonight.

  I slathered a bit of the raspberry jam that Lila’s teacher had given the class f
or Christmas and took a bite, my mouth exploding with flavor. I was surprised the preserves had held out for this long.

  “So,” Emily started as she sat and brought the cup up to her mouth, the steam distorting her features. I sat down beside her with the plate of bread and poured myself some tea, taking a sip as she turned to me. “I heard that Sean is as insistent as ever on marrying you.”

  I nearly snorted out hot tea through my nose, and it burned. I wondered if this was a new piece of gossip, or if the townspeople really had nothing better to talk about.

  “Sean Ager,” I shook my head, thinking of our conversation earlier that day. “He’s handsome to be sure, but dull and arrogant. I’d spend the rest of my life without any books or stimulating conversation, and half a dozen children nipping at my heels. Yes, I can see it now: my dreams coming true.”

  Lila giggled, but Emily’s face remained stoic, and she lowered her voice as she said, “We’d have more money for rations, and the Regime is more lenient on married couples and their families.”

  I sobered quickly and sighed. Emily was too smart and too reasonable for her own good. The marrying age was nineteen, and come December I’d be an eligible maiden—that was less than a year away.

  “I know, Em,” I sighed, “but I’m not quite of age yet. I still have a year of freedom left before I’m forced to marry. I’ll not subject myself to something like that until I have no choice.”

  “But can’t you just consider—”

  Suddenly, the front door burst open, shattering the brittle wood and cutting off Em’s words. The three of us stood quickly in surprise, and I positioned myself in front of my sisters, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

  Just under a dozen Regime soldiers in their pitch-black uniforms filed through the door and crowded our living room, followed by the town lawman, Thomas. My stomach tightened at the sight of him; Regime soldiers were one thing—they were a part of everyday life. But if Thomas was here, something awful must’ve happened.

  The Regime had turned Thomas rotten—he was more of a Grim Reaper now than an upholder of the law. The middle-aged haunted shell of a once-good man, he had angry pink scars peeking out from under his stiff collar from a chemical burn he’d gotten as a young man. Since he wasn’t a Regime soldier, he didn’t have to wear the uniform, and his partially-untucked dark gray tunic and navy-blue pants were both badly wrinkled. I took a shallow, nervous breath and noticed that he reeked of booze. But that wasn’t any different from any other encounter I’d had with him.

  Every time I saw him, I was reminded that he’d once been in love with my mother, something I’d learned from father one drunken night. But she’d spurned his affections and married papa instead.

  I’d seen him at her funeral, inebriated but standing far enough away from the service. When everyone had left and I was having a final word with the groundskeeper to make sure that everything was taken care of, I’d watched him approach her grave and throw himself onto it, sobbing drunkenly. Seeing his body shake with misery, I’d almost felt bad for him then. But he was appointed by the Emperor himself to be the lawman of Briar soon after, and, over time, it had turned him into a monster.

  That didn’t explain why he was here now, though. I couldn’t think of why he might burst into our home with a small army of Regime soldiers like he had, and at such a late hour. Unless something had happened to Alinder—

  I heard a muted groan near the door and peeked around the nearest officer to see an older man with them, bound in chains. My jaw clenched.

  It wasn’t Alinder; it was father.

  “Where is Belle Fairfax?” Thomas boomed, breaking through my surprise at father’s appearance.

  I stepped forward, but still held my arms out, as if they alone could keep my sisters safe from the Regime soldiers. I felt oddly exposed in my winter nightgown, but I obviously hadn’t been expecting company, much less Regime lackeys.

  “I’m Belle,” I said in a smaller voice than I would’ve liked, but it was all I could manage.

  I kept my eyes on Thomas as I spoke, completely ignoring father. I hadn’t realized how furious I was at him until just then, but he wasn’t my greatest concern at the moment. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”

  “Ah, finally, a Fairfax with some decency.” Thomas kicked the back of father’s legs hard with his muddied riding boots. He fell to his knees in a grunt, the sound of chains clattering to the floor like dropped silverware. I heard Lila make a strangled noise behind me, then Emily shushing her.

  “Please,” I pleaded. “What is this about?”

  Thomas smiled wickedly and stepped further into the room, a Regime soldier following with father in tow. Almost absentmindedly, Thomas plucked up the lifeless, brittle stem of a flower that Lila had picked at the end of summer before setting it back down in the vase, placing something next to it that glinted silver in the firelight.

  “I’m so glad you asked.”

  Stalking back towards father, he grasped the back of his neck tightly, pinching the skin together until it was red; I gritted my teeth. “Your father owes the Regime a great debt. A debt which he’s unable to pay.” He threw father’s head forward with a jolt, his greasy, gray-spackled hair tumbling forward.

  Thomas stepped towards me purposefully, but I stood my ground. I would not be intimidated.

  “Then, in his desperation,” he continued, “he offered up his eldest daughter for the Brothel. As I’m sure you know, employees are few and far between.” He paused, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. The Brothel was the worst kind of place, where the seediest of men went to be pleasured by women who were there as punishment by the Regime. My eyes burned at the idea that father had offered me up to work at the Brothel to pay off his debts. It wasn’t unexpected after everything he’d done, but it still stung.

  “But, seeing as you’re Aurora’s daughter,” he continued, “I’ve decided to give you a choice.”

  “And what would that be?” I asked, knowing that it would likely be a choice between the lesser of two evils. And I wasn’t sure that the Brothel would be the worst of them.

  There was a disgusting glint in his brown eyes when he answered. “It’s quite simple, really. Either you come with us to the Brothel, or your father will be put to death.”

  Lila and Emily gasped behind me. “That’s not a choice at all!” Emily cried, but it was Lila this time that shushed her.

  I remained silent, trying to rationally consider the choices, and figure a way out of them. If I went with them, there was a chance that father would leave again, and Emily and Lila would be left on their own. If I stayed, father would die because of it. And even though he was a bastard, he was still my father.

  Then, an idea came to me—a brilliant, dangerous idea.

  Not long ago, I’d overheard a hushed conversation between Alinder and one of the other shopkeepers. They’d been in his office, so I was sure I wasn’t meant to hear it, but they’d left the door open and I couldn’t help myself.

  “Have you heard?” the other man had whispered loudly.

  I’d imagined that Alinder had shaken his head. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.”

  The chair in Alinder’s office had creaked before the man spoke again, “The Regime soldiers have been told to be more thorough in their searches. Something about a powerful ring that the Emperor is desperate to get his hands on.”

  I’d heard Alinder snort out a laugh. “You can’t mean like in the legend of the Beast.” Silence, and then he whispered, “That’s ridiculous! Even if such a thing existed, if the stories are true, he’d have to find the castle and get past the horrible Beast before he could possess it.”

  “That’s just what I’ve heard, so be on the lookout. I’ve heard he’ll stop at nothing to have it in his custody,” the man had concluded before leaving Alinder’s office without sparing me a single glance.

  The people of Briar were known to gossip about the most foolish, inane things. But the fact that the
soldiers’ daily searches had seemed to get more thorough after that made me wonder…

  “What is it that the emperor wants most?” I asked now.

  Thomas looked at me, shock and then suspicion written across his face. “What do you mean?”

  I leaned forward. “You know exactly what I mean.” Some of the hard glint in his eyes gave way to panic. “Let me enter the Black Forest, find the castle, and bring back the ring the emperor seeks.”

  Thomas laughed, but didn’t skip a beat, and it was then that I knew that Alinder’s friend had been right. And that the story of the Beast was true.

  “And why would we send you, a woman, into the Black Forest? You wouldn’t last more than an hour.”

  “Because I’ve been there before.”

  Thomas’s eyes widened. “That’s not possible.”

  “Oh, but it is,” I assured him, feeling him tugging on my bait. My heart was beating impossibly fast. This has to work. “I’ve even seen the castle. It simply depends on how much you’re willing to risk.” I tried to hide the pleading in my voice, but it was leaking through. “Think of it, Thomas, you’ll be the only man in all of the Regime that was able to bring the Emperor the thing he most desires in this world.”

  I knew greed had gotten the better of him; I could see it in his eyes and the way he puffed out his chest.

  “Fine,” he growled, conceding. “You have a deal. But if you’re gone longer than a month, we’ll kill your father anyway.” His eyes moved to my sisters and I could feel my nails digging deep into my palms. “And your sisters hold much of your same beauty. I’m sure we could secure one of them your spot at The Brothel. Maybe they’ll even take them both.” He looked back to me, and I saw his gaze skim over the silver scar that crawled up my face from beneath my nightdress.

  My blood boiled, heating my cheeks, but I held my tongue. “I accept your terms,” I told him through gritted teeth.