“As for the information I owe you... I know I will never bring Nicolas back to Enchantia,” she said, settling on her haunches. “He is pure evil. Dangerous. Dastardly. Self-serving. Trust him, and you will suffer for it.”
And I’d left my favorite person in all the world in his care.
Part of me still wanted to believe he was a good man. The way he’d loved my mother... There was light in him, I knew it. “Do you still plan to bring my sister Hartly here?”
“For the good of the kingdoms, I must. There is a task only she can complete.”
I waited for her to say more. “What task?”
“A taming of the beasts, so to speak.”
Animals, then. Hartly’s specialty. “Earlier, I told Noel to stop you from escorting Hartly to Airaria.” When she laughed, I scrunched my brow with confusion. “What?”
“Never would I take Hartly to Airaria, a cesspool of crime. What Noel promised for a price, we had already planned to do for free.”
I ground my teeth—beaten at my own game! “Will you move up your timeline and go get her now?” I was torn in two over this, too. Part of me wanted Harts to stay in the mortal world, where she’d never have to face Violet or hungry trolls. The other part of me wanted her far away from Nicolas until I’d learned more. “Hartly’s safety means more to me than anything.” There was no price I wouldn’t pay.
“Her safety is a priority,” Ophelia said. “I will fetch her at the proper time, no sooner, no later. Our futures are at stake, too. But you may rest easy. Nicolas will not harm her, because he believes he can use her later. That is the sorcerian way.”
Well, three cheers for the sorcerian way, then. “How does he plan to use her later?”
“She is a powerful princess. Bonum et malum. Like us. Perhaps a future queen and lawmaker. What’s not to use?”
Supposition rather than a concrete answer. “Why do you and Noel have to be so cryptic all the time?” I grumbled.
“When you do not work for answers, you dismiss the truth.”
Well. She wasn’t wrong.
My temples began to throb. I reached up to rub them. When my wounds tingled, nothing more, my spirits buoyed. If only I could snap my fingers and recover my energy just as easily.
“You are ill prepared for the journey ahead,” Ophelia said. “You should work with your fairy tale and stop fighting it.”
I lumbered to an upright position. “What do you know about the prophecy, exactly? Do you play a part? Am I the Queen of Evil? Snow White?”
The witch tilted her head. “You think I decide the answer?”
Did I? Did Fate? Getting nowhere fast, I changed the direction of the conversation. “How long can a sorceress borrow someone else’s magical ability?” When would I lose Violet’s ability to summon wind? Wait. “Can I wield multiple abilities at once?” What if I couldn’t commune with mirrors until I ditched Violet’s ability?
Ophelia sighed. “You wield the ability only as long as you remain linked to its owner—in life or in death. In the first instance, you borrow, and the victim replenishes. In the second, you steal and kill. Yes, you can wield multiple abilities at once, as long as you have enough power.” A scowl darkened her features. “I cannot believe I’m instructing a sorceress.”
The disgust in her tone roused a tide of shame deep, deep inside me. How could no one see a very real truth? I couldn’t help what I was.
Anger followed the shame. How dare anyone make me feel bad about being me? I wasn’t perfect, but I had a lot of love to give.
“You’re free to go,” I grated. “I’m done with the Q and A.” I’d get answers another way.
She nodded, relieved. “You’ll be safe from centaurs and other predators. For a time.”
Trepidation turned my blood to ice, but I said, “Thank you. For everything.” Despite the flare of anger, I appreciated what she’d done for me.
“Remember your gratitude when next we meet.” She smiled as she stood and waved. “See you at the wedding!”
Wedding?
Poof! She vanished in a cloud of glitter.
I tried to stand, but dizziness kept me down. The same sensation I’d battled after Roth had given me that goblet of sweetened wine.
I was drunk without consuming a drop of alcohol?
No, no. I’d been drugged, then and now. The wine...the thorns... My fury boiled over.
Why would Roth do such a terrible thing? Just to search my bag uninterrupted? Well, he’d failed. I’d caught him red-handed.
As sleep came and conquered, I slumped over with a final thought: the prince will be paying a bad-decision tax.
* * *
Dappled sunlight warmed my face. I fluttered open my eyelids and frowned. I was outside? With a grimace, I eased upright. Pain stabbed my arm, only to fade within seconds, my wounds mostly healed. The stitches had even dissolved, as if by magic.
As I scanned the surrounding trees and pond, memories flooded me, and I relived the agony of Violet’s rejection. Forget my physical injuries. The emotional ones ripped me apart.
What had turned the queen into a cold, callous woman willing to harm her own daughter? The years spent with Stephan, worrying about her fate? The ceremony she’d mentioned, where she’d stolen his magic?
For that matter, how had a non-sorcerer stolen magic?
I swallowed a whimper. Mom had said evil possessed many faces. Now? I knew beyond a doubt Violet wore one of them.
Had I not syphoned her power, I would have died. The ability everyone despised had saved my life and made me one of the most hated beings in Enchantia.
Truly had ties to the sorcerian, too, but seemed universally beloved. Did no one know the truth about her origins? Had she never syphoned power? Did she even need to? We had different hair and eye color, different body types. Why not different magical abilities, as well? As if one twin was born with a disease, and the other was born healthy.
The analogy made me cringe. Had she ever hurt another person the way I had hurt—
Stop! My eyes burned, and my chin wobbled. Follow that thought to its conclusion and suffer.
To distract myself, I scanned my surroundings. A carpet of glittery blue grass created a breathtaking illusion, trees and plants seeming to grow from ocean waves. Massive oaks, gorgeous wisteria. Luscious pink flowers the size of a fist, with jagged-edged petals; one flower swallowed a hummingbird. Breakfast served.
A woodpecker knock, knock, knocked on wood while a family of horned squirrels raced along tree limbs. A creature that looked like a monkey-raccoon hybrid—moncoon? Raconkey?—approached the lake, noticed me, then fled at the speed of light. Butterflies flittered from bush to bush, leaving trails of sparkling dust in their wake. Birds and crickets chirped as two Thumbelina-type creatures waged epic battle midair, brandishing little sticks like swords. Adorable!
The scent of wildflowers, honeysuckle and exotic spices intoxicated my senses as a blue squirrel jumped on the limb closest to me and held out his arms, seeking pets. Yeah, right. I’d get bit, guaranteed, and probably die in agonizing pain, my loved ones unaware of what had happened to me. Or best-case scenario, I’d develop a case of uncontrollable diarrhea.
Considering my luck, I’d suffer both best and worst.
You’ll be safe from centaurs and other predators. For a time.
“Sorry, squirrel,” I said. “But you need to get lost.”
He slinked away, dejected, and guilt nearly choked me. I know the feeling, little man.
“You’re better off without me,” I called. Nicolas was right. I was dangerous to one, to all. I had killed my mother, a woman who’d done nothing but love and protect me. I’d reduced her to a lifeless husk.
When Hartly learned the truth, she would hate me.
A tear streaked down my cheek, followed by another and another, little trails of lav
a. A sob escaped, too stout to be denied. Suddenly, my entire body was heaving.
I curled into a fetal ball, tide after tide of despair, grief and sorrow crashing over me, into me, fracturing a heart I doubted I’d ever be able to mend.
I’d known that eventually I would crack, Humpty Dumpty style, but crying wasn’t going to bring back Mom. Crying changed nothing. I had to pick up the pieces of my heart, build another wall and go on.
And I would. The decision solidified inside me. I would fight for better and make Aubrey proud. I would do what she’d always wanted and guard Hartly with my life. Even if Hartly didn’t want me beside her.
Look. See.
The desire to speak with Foreverly barraged me. Trembling, I withdrew a compact and flipped open the lid. Cringe! My eyes were red and swollen, all grief, no excitement, my cheeks pink and wet.
Waving my hand over the glass, I said, “Show me Hartly.” Nothing. Wave. “Show me Nicolas.” Again, nothing. Wave. “Foreverly?” Nope. Not her, either. Frustration smacked me.
Noel? I called inside my head.
Silence.
I must be out of power, and un-linked to a battery. Sighing, I dug a protein bar and the canteen from my backpack. After I ate, I brushed my teeth, then stripped to my underwear and dove into the lake. Cool water cleaned away dirt, grit and blood. And it felt good, far better than I deserved.
Mid-swim, a young woman stepped from a tree. Like, she legit ghosted through the freaking bark, catching me off guard. Her skin and hair blended perfectly with the forest.
Foe? My daggers were too far away. A mistake on my part, one I would never make again.
She placed a wicker basket next to my bag, curtsied and grinned. Grinned. At me! She had no fear. “Compliments of Allura.”
Allura. The temperamental being Roth had warned me about. Treading water, I said, “Thank you. But, uh...”
Giggle, giggle. “You wish to know what I am?” she asked, and I nodded. “I am a nymph, and a servant of Allura.”
Once-forgotten memories surfaced, all the tales Mom used to tell Hartly and me before bed. Forest nymphs lived for fun and games and were extremely curious. Their male counterparts were goblins, beings able to morph into dark mist.
“Allura doesn’t know me,” I said. “Why would she help me?”
“Perhaps she needs a friend? Perhaps you remind her of someone? Perhaps you have something she wants?”
As she spoke, my arms acted of their own accord, lifting, my fingers pointed toward the nymph. The tips heated, and strength flooded me. What the—
My visitor gasped and paled, peering at me with the fear I’d originally expected, before backing away from me and running.
“Wait,” I called, but she’d already vanished through a tree. “I’m sorry!”
I’d syphoned from her. Even though I had no familiar connection with her, no link of any kind. And I needed a link, right? Nicolas had said as much. Unless...
Bonum et malum...the strongest of my kind...
Maybe I didn’t need a link. Or I was already linked to the forest and its inhabitants, since I had roots in the Tree of New Beginnings?
I had so much more to learn.
Heart leaping, I emerged from the water. Brighter rays of sunlight filtered through the overhead umbrella, beaming on a two-headed snake, watching me, rapt. Any other time, I would have screamed. After being stabbed? Two-headed snake, shmoo-headed snake.
I dug into the nymph’s basket. Gorgeous black boots with lace ties, the perfect size. A black dress made from dried rose petals, shed snakeskins and soft, luxurious pelts I prayed were fake, or that they’d come from animals that had died of natural causes. A satchel of fruit and nuts. A jug of wine. A handful of glimmering gemstones. So pretty.
The kindness only reignited my guilt and rallied my suspicions. “Thank you, Allura,” I whispered. “I’m sorry I syphoned from your representative. I didn’t know what I was doing. But, uh, are you, like, my fairy godmother, here to prepare me for the ball or something?”
No answer, only a stronger gust of whistling wind.
Tremors reignited. I changed into dry underwear I’d brought from home, donned Allura’s beautiful ensemble, then plaited my hair and stuffed any remaining items in my backpack.
By the time I finished, a sense of foreboding had gobbled me whole, stronger than ever before. Frowning, I withdrew the compact. I had power now; I should be able to see something.
Peering into the glass, I said, “Mirror?”
Foreverly appeared in a flash, her silver eyes wild, her cheeks pale. She shouted one word. “Run!”
12
Run, run, they’re on your trail.
If you get caught, you will face hell.
I sprinted through the forest for minutes, hours, an eternity, tree limbs slapping my cheeks, the pack thudding against my back. The soup cans bruised my muscles and nearly cracked my bones. Adrenaline helped dull the pain, but even still my inhalations doubled as a punch to the lungs.
Fear became my closest companion, Violet’s centaurs hot on my trail.
Wanted: Everly Morrow, both dead and alive.
I laughed without humor, my brain unable to compute the fact that the terrible sound came from me.
Can’t stop, can’t slow. The scent of dirt, pine and horse clung to my nose, a constant reminder I was being hunted.
As I ran, a thousand noises vied for my attention. Wails in the distance. Howls. Roars. Singing—both bird and human. Or inhuman, like the call of a whale. The soft melodies made my head spin. I felt drunk and high. Was I?
What did I know about these plants and their spores? Nothing, that’s what.
I rounded a large tree trunk. In the timespan of a heartbeat, I seemed to step through a door, leaving a sauna and entering a winter wonderland, overly warm air suddenly freezing cold.
But the freezing cold didn’t last, either, the alteration happening again and again, until I felt like I’d entered a maze. Every invisible doorway led to a new paradise or hellscape.
I rounded another tree and passed a horrifying quagmire, where thorny vines moved, shooting out to capture and kill animals. Trapped within were countless skeletons and carcasses in various stages of decay.
Next, I passed a slushy marsh. Then a flower glade, where stalks nipped me hard enough to draw blood.
A new surge of dizziness. I entered a rainstorm, droplets of water nailing me. My injuries had mostly healed, but all this exertion had left me weak and achy. How long could I maintain this pace?
A creature—a minotaur—stepped into my path, and I reared back. He had the head and tail of a bull, and the body of a man, a leather loincloth his only clothing.
He pointed to the right. “Allura say go there, be safe.”
Truth? Lie? With no time for a risk/reward analysis, I followed his suggestion, surging down a path full of briars. Ow, ow, ow. Those briars sliced and diced my feet as if I’d tussled with the inside of a blender.
With pain came a flare of mental clarity. I wondered if I was living a snippet of the fairy tale right this second, watching it unfold. The time the Evil Queen ordered the Huntsman to escort Snow White to the forest and kill her.
That would mean I was Snow White and Violet was the Evil Queen.
Here, now, the idea struck me as wrong. Why, why?
I came upon a tree covered in a thick, sticky web, a spider-scorpion dangling from one of the limbs, his beady gaze glued to me. Acting on instinct, I waved my hand, intending to use Violet’s magic and blow down the entire tree. Nope. Major fail. Either I’d lost the ability, or I hadn’t syphoned enough from the nymph.
As soon as I found a safe haven, I would syphon from someone else, just a little, just enough, and summon Foreverly. Maybe I’d go home to the mortal world. Screw the kingdoms and the forest. Screw the fairy tale and fate.
Leave, like a coward, letting Violet win? No!
I wanted to claim my freaking birthright. I wanted Hartly and Truly safe, forever. I wanted to stay, to find a way to use my magic in peace, without harming anyone. I wanted happiness, acceptance and security, just like everyone else in the world. But to obtain any of these things, I needed power.
I quickened my pace when I heard the click-clack of horse hooves coming in hot behind me.
My limbs shook as I followed a stream of azure light—straight through another invisible doorway! This one led to a land with pink everything.
Hours passed, maybe minutes, my adrenaline ebbing. I grew lethargic, my brain broadcasting a very clear message. Ready or not, you’re going to rest.
Soon. Must find a place to hide. When a shadow fell over me, I chanced a glance up. An open view of the sky revealed a huge creature with the head of a lion, the body of a goat and the tail of a serpent.
I gasped, “Chimera.”
If I was being chased by a chimera, I was as good as dead. According to Mom’s bedtime stories, the fire-breathing monsters would rather perish than give up a hunt.
I continued to follow the azure light, faster, panting, my nose and lungs burning. My fatigue worsened, my eyelids almost too heavy to hold up. I circled the drain of exhaustion. I needed to be—
There! A small cave, partially hidden by rosebushes.
Relief. But still my mind whirled. Risk: staying in one location increased the likelihood of capture. Reward: my pursuers might pass me and lose my trail, giving me a chance to rest, eat, recharge and speak with Foreverly.
Rewards won by a landslide. I braved the thorns, scrambling into the cave. Well, more like a shallow cubbyhole.
To my surprise and delight, pink vines grew over the opening, hiding me in a shroud of darkness.
In the ensuing quiet, my panting breaths became as loud as bomb blasts. My feet throbbed. Actually, every inch of me throbbed. My nerves continued to fray as I waited...waited...no hint of hoofbeats.
I was safe—for now.
“Thank you, Allura,” I whispered, my relief redoubling.
The Evil Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil) Page 16