Once Upon A Kiss: Seventeen Romantic Faerie Tales

by Alethea Kontis

  Lewis looks like she is about to protest again, but Rush says, “I need a favor. Someone important to me is dying. She’s at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Her name is Deanna Singer, and over the past few weeks, I’ve realized, well, she’s tried to be like a mother to me, I didn’t know it and—”

  “I know where Northwestern Memorial is!” Lewis says, whipping out a magical stethoscope from a pouch at her waist. Its magical music is the sound of a heartbeat. Before he can say another word, there is a brief flash of rainbow light, and she disappears.

  Bohdi runs a hand through his too-long hair and turns back to Rush, looking worried rather than cocky. He lets out a long breath of air and says, “Well, you won’t need her to break the curse.”

  Rush’s brow furrows. “Yeah, I will, believe me.”

  Bohdi tilts his head. “The curse is already broken.”

  “No, it isn’t. I didn’t find my Princess Charming,” Rush mutters, shoulders sinking. If Lewis is intercepted by Security, or Anthony and Andrew …

  Patel scoffs. “You know, SEALS are supposed to be smarter than the average recruit, and the average recruit is supposed to be smarter than the average civilian—”

  “What are you getting at, Patel?” Rush snaps.

  “Sometimes you’re really dumb.”

  Rush lifts his head, but he’s too worried with what’s going on with Lewis, Deanna, and Bianca to pick a fight.

  Patel points the annoying singing magical lollipop at Rush. “The conditions of the curse weren’t that you had to find romantic love. The conditions were that you had to have a meaningful relationship with a woman. You’ve met those conditions.”

  “Oh,” says Rush. He looks at the floor. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

  Waving his lollipop, Patel quips, “Because you’re sad, Rush.”

  Rush wipes his face. Yeah, that could be it.

  “You hungry?” Patel asks, which is when Rush realizes his eyes have been following the lollipop.

  “Yeah,” he admits.

  Patel reaches into his pocket and tosses him a magical lollipop that begins singing “Little Bunny Foo-Foo” as soon as Rush catches it. Rush pops it into his mouth because he’s famished, and also to shut it up. It’s grape, and amazingly satisfying.

  Patel gives him that sideways look. “You’ve been using magic—I felt it when you were humming.”

  “It’s my talent,” Rush explains. “I hum or sing, and things happen.”

  “Hmmm … maybe it’s just how you concentrate,” Patel muses distractedly. He’s looking at the place where Lewis disappeared. “I wish she didn’t just go like that. I can’t go into the hospital. People will die just by me being there. After Amy is done with your friend, she’ll probably try to help everyone. She’ll get too tired, and things will start to go wrong—you’d be surprised how unhappy people are when they grow horns, a tail, or sprout scales. Like terminal cancer isn’t worse?” Patel frowns. “I need to get you out of here so that you can go get her, but if I just take you through the In Between, it will raise questions that—”

  There is a flash of rainbow light, the sound of synthesizers in the jungle and a heartbeat, and Amy is staring at Rush, her jaw agape. She’s wearing a doctor’s coat with badge that dematerializes before his eyes, and then she’s in the Shakespearean garb again.

  “What is it?” Rush says, the magical lollipop giving him the energy to stand.

  “Deanna’s brain tumor is already gone—I went and checked their records—it was there when she went in a few weeks ago.”

  “I made her magical! I gave her my blood.” Rush grins.

  Shaking her head, Lewis says, “She’s not magical yet. That will take a few days at least. Something else cured her.”

  Rush remembers sitting by her bedside for all those hours singing every song he could think of with the words “getting better” in them or about recovery, twisting the lyrics around to make them about recovering from illness: The Beatles, The Bleachers, Shed Seven, Booth and the Bad Angel, The Young Giants, and more, everything serious, everything desperate, and things that were goofy, too, until his voice was raw and all he could do was hum. “I think that was me,” he says, looking at the ground. “I was singing for a long time.”

  When he looks up, Patel’s lips are parted and his eyes are wide in a look of wonder. “That’s awesome,” he says in a hushed voice.

  Rush’s eyes shift to Lewis. She’s frowning. “But it wasn’t enough,” Rush guesses.

  “She’s still in a coma,” Lewis replies. “Is there some reason why she wouldn’t want to wake up?”

  Rush remembers Deanna bursting into tears when she used the present tense when describing how proud she and Jeff are of him.

  “She just lost her husband of almost twenty years,” Rush whispers.

  “Oh,” Lewis says in a small voice. In an even smaller voice, she says, “Well, there’s always hope.”

  “I want to see her again,” Rush says.

  “We’ll bust you out!” Patel declares, whipping his hand around. “Who cares about the consequences!”

  It’s a good thing Rush’s not sitting on the bed, because it bursts into flames.

  “Oops,” says Patel.

  Holding out a hand, Rush sings, “I can stop the fire.”

  The fire snuffs out, and Patel murmurs, “Wow,” gazing at the blackened mattress.

  “It’s actually all right,” says Lewis. “Bianca’s got bail.”

  Holding up two fingers, Patel says, “Rush, that’s two meaningful relationships.”

  There is the sound of a flute, and Lewis looks up. “Larson got chomped on by a dragon in Grant Park! We have to go!”

  The cell is filled with hum of synthesizers and electronic sitars, and then they’re gone.

  * * *

  “Andrew and Anthony heard the nurse’s side of the story,” Bianca says, hands shaking on the steering wheel as they pull into Northwestern Memorial’s parking lot. She gulps. “I think I can handle them, but how will you slip past the nurses?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” says Rush, even though he is worried about that. He’s staring at his hand, and it is definitely still visible; invisibility is apparently not his thing, even with his singing, but he thinks he has a work around.

  When they enter the hospital, the hospital security guard immediately stands up and holds out a hand. “Halt!”

  Under his breath, Rush quietly sings, “Can’t see me anymore,” to the tune of HELLYEAH’S “Don’t Care Anymore.” He doesn’t become invisible. He can see himself in the cameras and mirror, but the guard sits down, gazes hard at a spot two feet to Rush’s left, and doesn’t say anything else. It works on the nurses on Deanna’s floor too, and Bianca’s brothers when she leads them out to the cafeteria.

  Rush slips into the room. Deanna still looks terrible. She looks half-dead … because she wants to be dead, he thinks. Jeff’s gone and she has cancer, and why not just go quietly with him and spare herself and her children something long, drawn out, and painful? His brow furrows. Spare herself endlessly speaking about Jeff as though he’s still here, and spare herself from expecting to see him around every corner in the house. Rush only lived with them for a few months, but she has twenty years of ingrained mental expectations to overcome.

  She may not have cancer anymore, but he didn’t give her a reason to come back.

  Sitting down beside her, he hums and tries to think, but the only reason he can think of is terribly selfish. “Come back,” he whispers. “Your kids need you.” He takes her hand, presses it to his forehead, and hums a moment more. “All of us.”

  Nothing happens. He hears footsteps outside, and something about Deanna Singer, no heroic measures, and do not resuscitate orders.

  Does this count as resuscitation?

  He stands up as the footsteps get closer. He’s almost at the door when he hears a dry whisper. “Rush?”

  He turns around, almost afraid he’s conjured a ghost again. Do th
e half-dead have ghosts?

  Deanna’s eyes are barely open. “I don’t know if I can fight this, but my children, they need me.”

  Vision getting blurry, Rush goes back to the seat beside her. “You don’t have to fight your cancer. It’s gone,” he replies just as softly.

  She stares at him, her eyes glazed, and he swallows. “Magical remission,” he murmurs.Her brow furrows slightly, and he takes her hand. It’s very cold, small, and brittle. “But you are right, we still need you.”

  Her face cracks into a tight smile. “Someone has to keep you all in line.”

  He hadn’t thought about it, but today is Valentine’s Day. He has no girlfriend, no prospects, and he doesn’t think he could be happier anywhere else.

  Rush grins. “Yes, ma’am, we do.”

  ***

  Author’s Note

  Every form of prejudice, whether it be misogyny, misandry, religious intolerance, or racism is a prison—much like the enchanted castle in Beauty and the Beast. It doesn’t just hurt the people we vilify, it hurts us by cutting us off from potential meaningful relationships and allies in life. I don’t believe you can break other people out of this prison with insults or hatred; I think they can only be saved with understanding, patience, and firm kindness. I wanted to explore that idea with Rush. I don’t think our hero is ready for a romantic relationship right now, but perhaps that can be another book!

  If you enjoyed the universe and the characters I’ve introduced here, check out Wolves, the first book in my I Bring the Fire series. It stars Loki, Norse God of Mischief and Chaos, and it’s FREE on all vendors. Want to stay in touch? Follow me on Facebook, or sign up for my newsletter.

  Perchance To Dream - Phaedra Weldon

  Rose sped through the castle kitchens as fast as her legs could carry her. She turned seventeen today, had bathed and was now late getting to Master Stolgard's office at the Magician's Guild to prepare the day's ceremony.

  "I see you Rose! You can't get away from me!"

  She was also being chased by the crown prince of Enidian, the center of a ring of Kingdoms spanning the known lands below the frozen wastes and above the dark Ice Giants of the southern territories. Richard Alric Sanderson also had a birthday today. He turned fifteen and was doomed to be reminded of it with a lavish celebration scheduled to start at noon and lasting into the night. The king and queen spared no expense when it came to their only son, the pride and joy of the castle and those who knew him.

  Rose and Richard shared more than just a birthday. They had shared their lives since they were children. Rose's mother was the Master Healer to the queen and her father the king's Bonded Blacksmith. Rose was proud of her parents and her position as the prince's Magician at Arms.

  Well, training Magician at Arms. It was Rose's dream to stand by Richard's side in battle, supporting his sword with her magic and healing his wounds.

  That is…if she could just get past the rudimentary skills of magic. Honestly…Richard did better at it then she did, and he wasn't supposed to use it. Magic was considered a common man's tool. It wasn't a secret that prolonged use of magic aged the Magician, more so when darker, more powerful spells were used. Therefore it was better the nobles didn't sully their hands with it and remained untouched by the effects.

  Stolgard claimed he was actually a man in his thirties, yet he had a wrinkled face, long white hair and a beard and harsh blue eyes.

  Richard hated Stolgard. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. She'd heard about him burning down the Magician's study, destroying thousands of old tomes, unrecoverable. Stolgard had petitioned to have Richard sent away to another kingdom, but there was no way the queen would be parted from her son.

  "Oy!" shouted Mama Declan, the Head Cook. She was a stout woman, with a red face. Dressed in her work linens and a stained apron, she lifted the tray of pastries she carried as Rose and Richard ran under it. "Two near grown adults, carrying on like children! You should both be getting ready for the festivities."

  Rose moved to the side door where chickens clucked outside and pecked at the corn some of the kitchen helpers had thrown out to them. She was out of breath and a little sweaty now. Richard stood near the fires, his attention distracted by the roasted birds being pulled from the ovens. The aroma of herbs and spices was heavenly.

  "Uh huh…maybe if I give the lot of you a taste, you'd be calming down?" Mama Declan was already grabbing roasted turkey legs, cinnamoned apples, a few herbed potatoes, hard cheese and a loaf of bread and piling it on a plate. She handed it off to Rose. "I know you're not supposed to be eating before the Spinning Ceremony, but you're too thin. And my Prince, you as well. Now, off with the two of you. Go eat in peace and do me proud."

  With her mouth watering at the thought of biting into Declan's herb potatoes, Rose grabbed a water flask and led Richard back around the side doors and down the hall toward the servants quarters. As children, the two found several good hiding places within the castle. Now they were too big to fit into them. Except one. A small alcove in the back of a broom closet, hidden by a fake wood door she and Richard made a few years ago.

  The place used to feel so vast, like a cave. But now it was cramped, with only enough room for the two of them to huddle inside. They'd discovered the alcove was actually above one of the huge glass windows in the Main Hall. The arched top of one of those windows lit up the room.

  Richard tore into a turkey leg first while Rose grabbed a potato. It was almost too hot to hold. It was soft and buttery and with just the right amount of garlic. Richard took a gulp of water from the flask and then handed it to Rose. "I wish you could be with me through this. I don't understand why you have to sit with the Magician's Guild. They're just a bunch of fakes. None of them can do serious magic."

  "Because that's where I belong."

  He snorted. "You can't even light a candle."

  She sighed at him. "That's because you cheat."

  "It's not a cheat." He reached behind her and grabbed one of the thick candles they kept in the room for light when they met up at midnight. He concentrated on the candle. "Light."

  The wick sparked to life and a yellow flame sparkled and then settled down. Rose sighed. "Stolgard says magic should be done in the Fatan tongue, not in common tongue."

  "Yeah well I say the old wind bag is wrong. And he knows it."

  "Too bad you don't get to be a Magician."

  He nodded. The light from the window showed the grease on his upper lip from the meat. "Have you given what I asked you much thought?"

  Rose sputtered and nearly choked on the apple skin on her tongue. She took a gulp of water. "You mean the…"

  "Marriage proposal. Come on, Rose. You can't think I want to marry anyone else, do you? I'll be seventeen in two years and you'll be nineteen. If I don't marry you by then, you'll be an old maid."

  Rose punched his shoulder.

  "Ow."

  "I will not be an old maid. And you know your parents will never agree."

  "But I'll be king, and I can do what I want."

  "Stolgard—"

  "Stolgard be damned," Richard said and Rose was surprised by the fierce anger in his expression. "The first thing I intend on doing when I'm made king is to get rid of that pompous liar. We don't need him. No one does. I love you, Rose. I want you beside me to run the kingdom. With you we can make peace to the North and unite all the kingdoms together."

  She gave him a lopsided grin. "You really think we can do that?"

  "I know it. And just because I'm fifteen doesn't mean I don't understand love. We've been together since I was born. You're the only person I trust, Rose Red."

  "Ooh…please don't call me that."

  "Sorry…but it's that hair. It's so….red!" He laughed as he lunged at her and tickled her, flirting with her the only way a boy of fifteen knew how.

  * * *

  Rose sat at the table furthest away from Richard and felt drab in her initiates robes when compared to the finery of their g
uests. Nobles from the Enidian and the surrounding Kingdoms came to see the prince and, as Rose noticed, to foist their daughters off on him.

  Her lips twitched as she watched the steady parade of gawking girls being led past him after the feast. He caught her watching and gave her a smirk, then he cut his eyes toward the Hall's door. It was a signal to meet in the secondary corridor, the one where his parents entered and exited the Main Hall. It was private and it was quiet. With Stolgard preoccupied with other guests, Rose made her way through the crowd to the doors behind the king and queen's chairs and slipped through, hopefully unnoticed.

  The doors had barely closed when she heard screams and loud banging. Instantly calling up a few spells at the ready in her mind, Rose went back through the doors to see something that looked like a huge ball of black smoke darting about the room. She ducked as it moved over her head and crashed into the wall beside the doors she'd just stepped through. The wood splintered with the impact and the ball of black dispersed, revealing two people rolling on the floor.

  One of them was Richard! She recognized his black and gold finery, as well as his raven black hair. The other one was cloaked and hooded and stood first. He crouched as he looked around the room, the hood whipping from left to right. She and the intruder faced one another for a few seconds. The opening of the intruder's robe was dark. So dark she couldn't see his face.

  "Seize him!" Stolgard shouted from behind her.

  Rose held out her hands. "Baleth 'el 'en val de-fur!" Lightening shot from her hand. Her aim was skewed and the flaming fingers glanced off the cloaked figure's shoulder. But it was enough to knock him down so the guards could take him. He was quickly put in irons and dragged from the Main Hall.

  She got to Richard just as her mother did and the two of them carefully rolled him over. His head was bruised and he was bleeding from his nose. Her mother's hands instantly glowed bright yellow, the healing light, as she moved them from his head to his boots. He blinked and gasped as he woke and looked wild at everyone.