The guards looked at one another. Her will was law and there was nothing they could do. They nodded and backed away, allowing her free passage.
“She is beautiful,” one of the men whispered behind her.
“That she is, but child-like still. The King and Queen do not see that she is almost a woman. They have not prepared her for life. I wonder that they allow her to go walking about alone like this,” the other replied.
The first guard shook his head. “No one in the land would hurt the Princess.”
As she meandered through the forest, Teal thought about what the guards had said. Truth be told, they were right. No one within the forest kingdom would even think of raising a hand to her. She was their prize, their beloved jewel who shone brilliantly in the dark paths of the wooded glen. Even the poorest farmer knelt before her without a grumble.
The Princess looked at all the paths spread out before her. She had explored far along each and each today seemed too tame, too familiar. Startled, she realized that she knew the Kingdom as well as her parents, her long walks had given her a fine perspective on the borders of the land.
“So I have been learning something,” she whispered. “But where should I go today?”
A rustle in the grass caught her ear. There, between the trees, was a narrow path that she had not seen before. She chewed on her finger for a moment. Had she simply overlooked it, or had it had magically appeared?
But magic was rare in the Kingdom these days. The Dragon had long ago been slain by a brave knight who married her grandmother’s aunt, and as the land grew more peaceful, the witches had less inclination to use their powers for anything besides bits of healing and entertaining small children.
She must have overlooked it, she finally decided. Her parents would not like her traversing an unknown road by herself. They would fret and worry, but then it occurred to her that in another year, she would be of age. She should start making some of her own decisions now, as much as she valued her mother’s wisdom and her father’s heart. Indecision warred within her. She wanted to explore, to run free like a farmer’s daughter. She knew her duty, but for one day, one hour, she wanted to cast it off and be truly seventeen, free and full of fun and not caring about what dangers might lie on the trail.
Finally, unable to resist, she hiked her skirt up on one side and knotted it to keep it from dragging on the ground, then set off down the narrow path. She had been walking for over an hour when she noticed that the trees were thinning out. The light made her wince, and she shaded her eyes as she picked carefully through the briars and brambles creeping out of the soil.
The forest soon opened out onto a wide plain, scorched and barren, with soil so compacted that it cracked and peeled upwards like old paint on a fresco. Teal blinked against the glare of the sun and an uneasy feeling crept over her, as though she were gazing upon something she was perhaps not meant to see. She searched her memories for any mention her parents might have made of a neighboring land like this, but nothing came to mind. What should she do? Go home? She yawned, tired and hot, as she realized how sore her feet were.
“Maybe I should rest a bit before I turn back,” she said to herself, suddenly wanting the comfort of a voice. She looked around, hoping to see a stream she could sit by, or a tree she could sit under.
But there was no water here, and the trees had grown dark and twisted. Feeling more uncomfortable by the minute, Teal shifted her weight from foot to foot. The heat from the wastes filtered up through her shoes and burned the delicate soles of her feet. She decided to turn back now, before she grew any more uncomfortable. She turned back, but the path had disappeared under a tangle of wild matted brambles and thorn-bushes.
“It’s not possible,” she whispered. “It can’t just have vanished.”
Teal paced along the borders of the wood, but could find no inroad. She tried to ford her way through the undergrowth, but the foliage was so thick and thorny that her arms and legs were soon tattooed with long, bleeding scratches. Finally, she gave up and turned towards the barren land.
The King and Queen had expressly forbade her to cross over the borders of the Woodland Kingdom, but there was nothing else she could do. Perhaps someone along the way could help her find her way home. She began walking across the barren land, wincing as the relentless sun burned against her skin. If only she had brought some water or some food. Her throat parched, her stomach empty, she wept as she forced herself along. She wept out of fear, wept out of anger and hunger and wept because today was her birthday, and birthdays should never be dismal or frightening.
“Am I going to die?” The thought of death flashed through her mind, and for the first time in her life, Princess Teal was afraid. She had never questioned her own mortality. She toyed with the thought, wincing as she realized if she died, it would mean no coronation, no balls or games or laughing children calling her Mama. Her hand fluttered to her throat. She had never seen anyone die and didn’t know what to expect. But princesses didn’t die in faerie tales—she knew that much. Surely someone would come along to help her. But until then, she realized she was on her own, lost in the middle of a desert with neither shade nor water and no one knew where she was.
“There’s nothing for it, I have to buck up and survive until either some prince, or my parents come along.” Teal strained her eyes, searching the horizon for any signs of life, but nothing stirred in the parched, arid land surrounding her. Weary from both the heat and fear, she decided to seek shelter behind a large rock about fifty yards away. It offered shade from the burning sun, and she lie down behind it, grateful for the respite. Within moments, she slipped into unconsciousness.
Karamak the Dark, King of Wraithland, led his band of riders out onto the burning plains that separated the land of the dead from the land of the living. He was stately in form, with a strong silver aura enveloping the bones of his body, and his eye sockets glowed with opaline flames. A silver crown bedecked with sapphires and opals sat atop his skull, and a long purple cloak flowed gently from the outline of silver surrounding his shoulder blades.
He led his band of riders atop skeletal horses which, during life, had been their faithful mounts. They traveled across the great plains as they so often did in search of wanderers who had strayed too far from the land of the living. Some they would send home, no worse for the wear than a minor scare. Others, in whom the spark of life was but a faint glimmer, they took back to Wraithland. The King enjoyed this diversion, it gave him satisfaction and occupied the unending days that passed in the land of immortality.
They were out this day, riding, when one of his companions pointed towards a boulder that sat against the floor of the valley. Behind the rock lay a young woman. She was beautiful and radiant, and life bloomed full within her, still, and her hair gleamed like spun gold. Karamak stared at her, enchanted.
“She is like a spring morning,” he murmured. He motioned to his riders and they gently picked her up and began to head towards the land of the living.
“No,” the King said, wind whistling through his mouth to become the breath of his voice. “No,” he said again as his riders looked back at him, waiting.
“But she is young and still filled with life. We should return her to her land. No doubt her parents will be worried.”
Karamak swung off his mount and strode over to them, his purple cloak fluttering behind. He looked down into the woman’s sleeping face. Blood coursed through her veins, plumping her cheeks and filling them with a rose blush. Breath whispered from between her full pink lips. Karamak silently reached out one bone-white finger and stroked back the golden strands that covered her face.
“Bring her,” he said quietly. “Bring her back to the castle.”
“But she is alive, Your Highness,” one of the riders said.
“I know,” Karamak answered. “I know.”
When Teal awoke, she found herself in bed in a dark hall. She was nude under a scratchy blanket that irritated her flesh. Confused, she sa
t up, propping herself on her elbows, and surveyed the room around her. The furniture was stark, heavy and dark with age and the pillows and bedclothes were old and tattered, though at one time they had been exquisitely embroidered with gold threads.
Teal pushed herself out of bed, wincing as her feet hit the floor. She pulled them up again and examined the blistered soles. Her shoes and clothes were nowhere to be seen.
She was about to knot one of the sheets around her shoulders into a tunic when the door opened. Teal held her breath, expectantly. Into whose kingdom had she had unwittingly stumbled? And then, she forgot her nakedness as fear rose up in her throat.
A skeleton, surrounded by pale blue light that took the rough shape of a body, entered the room, carrying a tray. On the tray was a bowl of fruit, withered and sickly. The creature set the fruit on the nightstand and turned to the Princess.
“You’ve woken,” it said, and its words were like the pale wind. “The King will be relieved to hear that you survived your misfortunate trip.”
Teal bit back a scream. She was a princess and that, in itself, meant she had to show courage. She straightened her shoulders, and quietly draped the sheet around her like a cloak. One look at the fruit told her she would never eat it. A worm burrowed out of the apple and her stomach lurched.
“Who are you? Where am I? Can you help me find my way home?”
The creature seemed reluctant to answer.
She tried again. “My parents will be worried about me. I am Princess Teal of the Woodland Kingdom.” She shivered, her skin rippling in the chill. The hall was as cold as the desert plain had been hot. “Where are my clothes? I demand my clothes.”
“Climb back under the bed covers. Your things will be brought to you soon. I will tell the King you’ve woken and he will answer your questions.” When the creature spoke, Teal could hear the faintest hint of disapproval in its voice. “Eat, if you will.” Then, it turned and left the room.
The Princess stared at the molding fruit for a moment, then looked around the room. A window near the bed hid behind shutters so old they had cracked, and at her touch, they fell to the dust-laden floor with a crash. She jumped back, holding her breath, but in the silence that followed she realized no one had heard. She looked down onto the plain below. Twilight made it difficult to pierce the shadows that surrounded the castle. She tossed the fruit out of the window, not wanting to appear ungrateful by leaving it on the plate.
There was a pitcher of water on the armoire and she raised it to her lips but stopped when the smell of vinegar rose to cloud her senses. The liquid was black, briny, and she quietly set the pitcher back in place without taking a single drop. She had barely crawled back into bed when the door opened.
The King. She had expected a real King, a flesh-and-blood liege and her disappointment washed over her like cold rain. A flash of bones and silver light. What nightmare had she stumbled into?
“So you are a Princess?” he asked, striding into the room. “I am Karamak, King of this land.”
Teal looked once into the opaline eyes for a moment, searching for any sign of humanity, and then hung her head. “Yes,” she whispered. “I am Princess Teal, from the Woodland Kingdom. I was out for a walk and seem to have gotten lost. Today’s my birthday,” she added helplessly.
Karamak settled himself on the bed next to her. She drew away, pulling the covers up to her chin. When he spoke, there was a new gruffness in his voice. “You should know better than go walking unattended.”
“In my kingdom, no one would hurt me,” she countered, not liking his tone. He was far too close for comfort. She straightened her back, summoning up what dignity she could. “We are a peaceful people. Our last Dragon was slain years ago and the brave knight married my grandmother’s aunt. I had no reason to fear walking alone.”
“Then yours is an unusual land. Have you no murderers? No rogues?” He spit out the question so harshly that the Princess pulled back against the headboard.
She looked at him through half-closed eyes and said, “Once in a while those things happen, but it’s rare and usually strangers are involved. My parents deal with the criminals quickly and efficiently, as will I when I am Queen.”
Karamak stood, towering over her. He looked at her with a fierceness that made her quiver. She had seen the same look, that same flash of light, in the eyes of a few men in the Woodland Kingdom and it always made her feel appraised, weighed and measured, and tied up with a pretty bow. She couldn’t help but notice that the silver light of his aura burned fiercely near his pelvis.
He leaned over her and with one jointed ivory finger, pointed at her. “Princess Teal of the Woodland Kingdom, you are a lovely woman. You should not cover yourself in shame, but display yourself with pride.”
“I want my clothes,” Teal cried out, angry now and blushing. She wanted to slap away his bony hand but was too afraid of what he might do.
Karamak nodded as he started towards the door. “I will order them brought to you immediately.”
Somewhat mollified, Teal rearranged the covers her and asked, “Are all your people like you?”
He paused and his voice was puzzled when he spoke. “What do you mean?”
“Are all of you...bones without flesh?”
“Oh,” he said. “Yes, we live in bone and fire instead of bone and flesh.”
“What land is this?” Teal called out but Karamak had vanished out the door. Within moments, the servant who had brought the fruit returned with Teal’s clothing and helped her dress but would answer no questions.
The second day, Karamak again visited Teal. They discussed her mother and father and her kingdom and how much she loved and missed the wooded glen. She hoped that he might help her find her way home but every time she approached the subject he waved her fears away.
“I’ve sent a message to your family,” he said. “They know you’re safe.”
Teal did not trust the skeletal King and she hated the dark castle with its shadows and perpetual gloom. No morning light showed through the windows, only the cloud and mist-shrouded plain through which she could barely see. Her heart ached for the sound of her mother’s voice. Once more, she tossed the fruit out of the window, but gnawed on the stale bread until she began to choke and was forced to swallow the brackish water, which set her stomach on fire. After that, she decided not to eat or drink at all.
When he left her the second day, he asked, “Is there anything I can give you?”
“A safe passage home,” was all she said.
Karamak turned and left the room in silence, bolting the great door behind him.
On the third day he told her he loved her. “Stay with me,” he pleaded. “You are like the golden sun, radiant and beautiful. I may have no flesh on my bones but my fire can take substance and I can love you like a man loves a woman.”
Teal stared at him, horrified. “Love? What would you know of love? How dare you imprison me? My family will destroy your kingdom to get me back.”
“But yours is a peaceful people. Have you an army ready to ride? They don’t even know where you are.” The dread king laughed.
Teal burst into tears, her dreams of escape dwindling as each moment passed. “You said you told them. I knew not to trust you.” She had suspected him of deceit, and now she knew she was right. As he reached for her, she screamed and flailed against his ivory embrace.
“Let me go! Don’t touch me!” A tidal wave of hatred and fear rushed over her, the first time Teal had ever hated anyone. The feeling sent her reeling with its strength.
The King pulled her to him, the silver fire swirling like a vortex. He tried to kiss her, to press his mouth against hers, but she fought him, shrieking, cutting herself on the sharp edges of his bones. He was stronger than she, but then—a glimpse of her bloodied face stopped him. The fire died down to a muted flicker.
Teal managed to break away from him and stumbled back as she looked for a weapon.
Karamak reached for her, then stopped.
“Teal, please don’t be afraid of me.” The breath of his voice trembled.
She looked into his ivory face and knew that he wanted to comfort her. “Let me go home. That will be the only comfort you can give me, you wraith of bones and fire.”
He paused, then silently turned and left the room. A few minutes later, two servants entered and though Teal protested weakly, they stripped away her clothing and dressed her in a gown that had once been golden but was now faded and threadbare. After they left, Teal tried to bar her door, then crawled into bed and cried herself to sleep. Hellish nightmares plagued her dreams.
“Can it be done?” Karamak demanded.
Rennard shrugged, the bones of his shoulders grating as they lifted. “I can give you that illusion, but will it do any good? You have terrified her. What makes you think she will ever trust you?”
Karamak pounded the table. Dust flew into the air where his fist landed. The castle was thick with it, but the King and his company never seemed to notice. It made no difference in Wraithland, where shadow ruled.
“I have to try. I must try.” He unfastened the heavy cloak and laid it aside. He was about to remove the crown when Rennard stopped him.
“The King must never be without his crown,” the magician said softly. Karamak nodded. “I have to speak now. This is folly. You cannot expect this to work, Your Majesty. I warn you,” Rennard continued, “she is of flesh and blood. How long do you think she can last here? Our land is for the dead, not the living.”
“We feed her, she has air to breathe. She will live as long as I want her to live,” Karamak said.
“You have seen the fruit lying below the girl’s window each morning. She wastes away.”
“Will you give me the illusion or must I find another magician to aid me?”
Once Upon A Curse: 17 Dark Faerie Tales Page 6