“No!” Elisabeth cried again. Kenrick looked on, stunned, but Alban's expression was unreadable. “You'll get yourself killed, you fool!”
“And I'll get us all killed if we stay together!”
“I'm not leaving you!” Elisabeth clutched his hand.
“Alban, Kenrick,” Cedric said, his voice becoming uncharacteristically hard. “Get her out of here.”
“But--” Kenrick stammered.
“If our years of friendship meant anything to you, then you will do as I say.”
Kenrick still looked indecisive, but Alban nodded once. “It has been an honor.”
“Yes it has,” Cedric said with a small nod.
“Cedric!”
“Take care, Lizzie.” He smiled weakly and released her hand.
Alban grabbed Elisabeth's wrist and pulled her away from Cedric.
“Alban, let me go!”
Instead of letting go, Alban tightened his grip. “Come on, Kenrick.”
Kenrick looked close to tears as he grabbed her other wrist. Together they managed to drag Elisabeth down the passage to the right. She fought against them, screaming at them to let her go. But for being only half the size of an ordinary man, they were deceptively strong.
“He'll die, you fools!”
Kenrick and Alban ignored her. She looked up at Cedric, weakly leaning against the wall. With great effort, he pulled himself upright and saluted them. Then the entrance to the passage went dark and he faded from view.
“No!” Elisabeth cried throwing herself forward.
The dwarfs dragged her back. “Hush, princess, or would you rather his sacrifice be in vain?” Alban asked harshly.
Elisabeth pressed her lips together and turned away. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting against the press of tears. All these people who sacrificed themselves for her, all these sacrifices she was forced to make. Her guards, Luk, and now Cedric too. She would make certain that they were not in vain. Even if it was the last thing she did.
Elisabeth straightened and turned to the dwarfs. “Let's find my stepmother and end this once and for all.”
Chapter
Ten
Elisabeth stepped out of the passage and into the icy, fresh air. The catacombs had come to an end only a short distance from where they had left Cedric. Elisabeth couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he could have made it that far.
Or would the wights have overtaken them all?
Elisabeth knew she shouldn't dwell on what could have been. There was no helping it now. But that did not help her heart feel any less hollow. Elisabeth raised a hand to her chest to make certain that her heart was actually still there. It was, beating steadily against the pain.
Somehow in the short time she had known Cedric, he had managed to worm his way into her heart.
She really was a fool to have even thought once that she could kill him.
He was annoying, self-important, and arrogant, but underneath his superior, sometimes bitter attitude he was a good person. No matter who his father may have been.
Unfortunately she realized this too late, and now he was gone.
Elisabeth shook her head and turned her focus to the task at hand. Berating herself for her poor judgment would not bring him back.
The overcast clouds threw shadows over the world, but the torches lining the wall revealed that they were in a courtyard. In the center of the courtyard was a rosebush. It had been planted there by her father because that was where he met her mother. Oddly enough the roses were in full bloom despite the cold.
Something stirred on the other side of the rosebush, causing the leaves to rustle. Elisabeth gasped. “Who's there?”
Alban and Kenrick held up their weapons and moved to either side of the rosebush.
Elisabeth stepped behind Alban. An old hag looked up as they approached. Her face was a maze of wrinkles, and her eyes pale and rheumy. She sat there shivering, hunched in the rosebush as if for warmth, even though many of the thorns cut into her frail skin. She wore a dark, torn dress and her ankle was chained to something inside the rosebush.
“Wait, boys!” Elisabeth hurried forward and knelt in front of the old lady.
The hag shrank away.
“Don't be afraid, I mean you no harm.” Elisabeth carefully grabbed the chain and tugged on it, but it didn't budge. She glanced over her shoulder at the dwarfs. “Can either of you pick this lock?”
“Can I pick a lock?” Alban muttered, insulted. He knelt in front of the woman, grumbling under his breath. He fished several objects out of his tunic and set to work on the chain on her ankle. After a few seconds there was a click and the chain fell away.
“I thank ye,” the old woman said in a tremulous voice as she tested her ankle. She smiled revealing only half her teeth and looked up at Elisabeth. “Ye have done me a great service, princess.”
Elisabeth pulled back. “How do you know who I am?”
The old woman chuckled dryly. “Who else could ye be? Livin’ in a palace, hair black as coal and skin as pale as the snow surroundin’ us. I know who my sovereign be.”
“Who are you?” Elisabeth asked.
The woman shook her head. “Better to ask who I was.”
“Who were you then?”
“I was once Mab a carefree girl from Brion, a town not far from the capital itself. I was once beautiful, oh I rue the day I was born, I was so lovely. My mother was a sorceress and was teaching me her ways. It was because of this that I attracted the attention of the queen. Equal parts the curse- beauty and power. She took me and I've been her prisoner for nigh ten years, though I look and feel like I've been here longer.” She broke off wheezing. “All that time she has sapped my beauty and taken my strength as her own. With my life force at her command, she has become all the more powerful. But now that you have freed me I can finally exact my vengeance.”
Elisabeth, licked her lips and leaned closer. “Vengeance? How so? Do you have a way to stop Ismena?”
“Aye, I do, lass. You see, Ismena forgot one thing. That I was once a sorceress myself, albeit one in training. And if there is one thing sorceresses have it's a long memory, and when wronged the unquenchable desire to taste the sweet bitterness of revenge, no matter how cold it be.” The hag reached into her rags and pulled out a bright red apple.
“An apple?” Elisabeth blinked, surprised.
“Not just any apple, my dear, an enchanted apple. Whoever eats this apple will take Ismena's powers, just as she stole mine.” The hag held the apple out to Elisabeth. “Go on. Eat it. You proved yourself a kindly soul when you freed me, and with this power you will defeat that evil queen and free Illesya of her reign forever.” The hag held the apple out further, growing agitated. “Take it.”
Hesitantly, Elisabeth accepted the apple. She held it in the palm of her hand contemplating. Just one bite and she would have the power to defeat Ismena? More than that. She would have Ismena's powers. She would finally rule, and she would rule uncontested.
Could it truly work?
“I don't trust her,” Kenrick said. He stepped up beside her, his sword held at the ready as if the old lady would attack him.
“That's only because ye make it a point not to trust any maidens ye wouldn't want to kiss,” Alban muttered.
“It's a good code to live by.”
“It's a code to die by. Everyone knows that the beautiful maidens are the most treacherous.”
“Elisabeth is the most beautiful maiden I have ever seen and she's not treacherous.”
Alban grunted but said nothing more.
The old lady ignored them and nodded toward Elisabeth. She rubbed her thin fingers together and licked her cracked lips. “Just one bite, deary, and the queen will pay for her crimes.”
Elisabeth clenched the apple in her hand. This was it. Her chance to defeat her stepmother. So why did she hesitate?
Cedric would scoff at how ridiculous she was being, hesitating to eat something that would grant her untold power. He would pounce
at such an opportunity as this. He would probably eat the whole apple.
The thought of the prince of Mooraven caused a jolt of pain to shoot through her empty chest.
He'd probably regret sacrificing his life to save hers if he only knew how she wasted it by hesitating.
“Come now, lass. Just one bite and it will all be over.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Elisabeth brought the apple to her mouth and bit into it.
At first the apple was sweet, but as she chewed it became sour, turning to bitterness as she swallowed. The apple lodged in her throat. Elisabeth gagged and coughed. She could barely breathe. Then she couldn't at all. She clutched at her throat and stumbled back several steps.
The hag cackled.
Darkness ringed the edges of her vision. She collapsed to the ground, her fall cushioned by the freshly fallen snow. Alban and Kenrick rushed to her side.
“Princess!” Kenrick cried.
“Cedric is gonna kill us,” Alban muttered darkly.
Elisabeth tried to reply, but she found that she could not. Her fingers opened and the apple rolled out of her hand.
The last thing Elisabeth saw before the darkness claimed her was the hag straightening and shedding her ugliness and wrinkles like a mask, transforming into her beautiful stepmother Ismena.
Then she knew no more.
Chapter
Eleven
Ismena laughed again, carelessly kicking the apple with the toe of her slipper.
Elisabeth did not so much as stir. She lay as if dead, though she was still very much alive. Ismena would gain no personal satisfaction from simply killing the girl. Nay, death was too easy a fate for the daughter of the man she hated more than life itself.
She’d put Elisabeth under a cursed sleep. An extended state of animation from which she would never wake. It seemed fitting that the daughter of the man who forsook love for beauty should be trapped forever in a sleep. One that she could only ever be woken from by true love's kiss. Something that Stephan had long ago taught Ismena did not exist.
Ah yes, revenge was sweet indeed.
“You really had no chance, sweet little princess. You were always fated for death from the day I cursed you when you were just a babe,” Ismena murmured.” Her heart had been torn in twain that day at the thought of cursing the babe, but it had been that sensation that had forced her hand.
She had been growing to attached to her stepdaughter. Something she could not allow. She would not feel love- not for Dahlia and Stephan’s wretched daughter.
Perhaps someday, she would turn Elisabeth into a wight. How it would make dear Stephan turn in his grave for his lovely daughter to become such an ugly creature.
And Elisabeth had so easily fallen for her tricks. It had almost been too easy. Using her sorcery, Ismena had disguised herself as a hag when her mirror informed her that Elisabeth was coming through the passages. She knew that her stepdaughter would never expect her to take the form of someone so ugly, and Elisabeth was too tenderhearted to ignore an old woman's plight.
With another laugh at the thought, Ismena pulled her Nytheran mirror from her stachel. “Mirror, mirror in my hand, tell me the answer I demand, who is the fairest in the land?”
The mirror glowed blue and replied-- You, my queen.
Ismena smiled wider. Finally! Again she was the fairest.
“What did ye do to her?” a dwarf, who had been with her stepdaughter, asked. Where her stepdaughter found dwarfs this far from the Skalvanian mountains was beyond her.
The dwarf pointed his sword at her. A penalty that would have surely cost him his life. Fortunately for him, Ismena was in high spirits. She waved her hand dismissively. “Nothing that concerns you, Dwarf. Be on your way and I might consider sparing your life.”
“I think not,” the other dwarf said, this one blond.
“I do beg your pardon?” Ismena tilted her head. Her hand grew cold as she held it up, prepared to grace her courtyard with two new sculptures.
The dark-haired dwarf hurriedly stepped in front of the blond dwarf. “What he meant was that he did not wish to leave the presence of one so fair so soon. Ye are by far the fairest maiden we have ever seen.”
The blond dwarf looked ready to argue, but the dark-haired dwarf elbowed him in the side and instead he bowed. “Me humblest apologies, yer ladyship.”
“You say so? The fairest maiden that you have ever seen? Even fairer than her?” Ismena gestured toward the princess.
The youngest dwarf stepped forward and raised her hand to his lips. Ismena yanked her hand away in disgust, raising it to strike him. How dare he touch her!
“She is but a trifle, a wisp of the wind compared to yer endless beauty and grace.”
Ismena lowered her hand. “Oh really?”
“She is nothing more than a reflection in murky water compared to ye. Yer skin is so flawless. It is as if it was carved from ice itself.”
Ismena traced a finger along her pale skin. “Yes, well, I try.”
“And yer hair is the exact color of the gold that we seek out and mine in the Skalvanian mountains.”
“Is it now?”
“Yer eyes shine like coal, stokin’ the forges of me heart.”
Ismena laughed and waved her hand. “You are quite a charmer. I see why my stepdaughter kept you around, but mind that you do not become too friendly. I am still your better in every aspect. And it would hardly do for you to develop such affections for your queen--” Ismena stopped talking as someone yanked the mirror out of her hand. She whirled to find the blond dwarf holding it and backing away from her.
“What is the meaning of this?” Ismena cried, raising her hands.
“It's a distraction, ye dolt. Haven't ye ever heard of those?” the dark-haired dwarf said. Ismena turned to him. As she did, she saw a dagger fly at her out of the corner of her eye. With a furious shriek she threw up an ice wall. The dagger pierced the ice, coming to a stop inches from her cheekbone.
“How dare you!” Ismena screamed. “You will pay for this!” She swept around the wall of ice, her hands raised, ready to strike the dwarfs down. But they were already gone, having fled while her view was blocked.
“It seems you still have a few tricks up your sleeve, girl,” Ismena hissed to her stepdaughter.
Elisabeth lay still, her dark hair billowing in the snow around her, a stark contrast to her pale skin and lips that were as red as ever. Even now, at Ismena's mercy, the girl was still beautiful.
“I'll deal with you later,” Ismena spat and swept out of the courtyard after the meddlesome dwarfs.
Chapter
Twelve
Cedric did not expect to survive. He was simply trying to see how far he could get before the wights caught him. It was a game of sorts.
He was betting that he could at least get as far as three corridors.
If he veiled the first corridor he might confuse the wights and buy himself more time. He was resourceful, with a few extra minutes he might even get out alive. But then the wights would discover where the others had gone. He was hoping that his blood was enough to mask the scent of the others. They'd probably hurry down this passage the second they smelled it, not giving a second thought to the niggling obnoxiously pleasant fragrance of roses coming from a blocked off wall.
But if they come to the junction and both the passages were blocked with scents of their prey coming from the supposed walls. Well, not even the wights were that stupid. So his passage had to remain unveiled, and he had to remain without his extra few minutes.
“Stupid princess,” he muttered to himself as he stumbled down yet another corridor. Two down, one to go. Then he'll have won. Of course the wights would tear him to pieces all the same whether he won or lost, but at least he could die triumphantly.
Her Royal Highness really was more trouble than she was worth.
Cedric glanced over his shoulder to see if the wights had caught up yet. It was because of this that he didn't see the people headed straig
ht for him until he collided with them.
Cedric tumbled into the wall and reached for his sword, but this caused a jolt of pain to shoot through his shoulder. He raised his other hand, ready to summon some shadow manipulation, realizing that he wasn't as ready to die as he had led himself to believe.
Except when he turned he found himself looking not into the ghastly faces of wights, but instead at Gabriel, Fergus, and Florian. Over their shoulders he spotted Lucius and Aldrus.
“Well, aren't you boys a sight for sore eyes,” he said, leaning against the wall. The unfamiliar feeling of relief coursed through him. He wasn't used to being in such dire straits that it made him feel anything other than cool indifference.
“Cedric?” Fergus's voice, while hushed, still boomed through the catacombs.
“Shh, Fergus,” Aldrus said. “Not so loud. Do ye want to bring every wight in this tunnel down on our heads?”
Cedric glanced back the way he had come. The tunnel was becoming more chilly by the second. “They're probably already on their way.”
“Where's the princess?” Lucius asked.
Aldrus frowned. “And Kenrick and Alban?”
“Relax. They're perfectly safe. Well, at least they'd better be safe. With all the trouble I'm going through to keep them alive, the least they could do is stay out of trouble for a little while.”
Lucius frowned. “What are ye talkin' about, lad…” His gaze landed on the blood staining Cedric's tunic.
“Wait,” Aldrus said, also noticing Cedric's current state. “Did ye do somethin' noble?”
Cedric waved his words away. “Don't look so surprised, Aldrus. I like to break routine from time to time. It keeps people on their toes.”
“Ye were willin' ta sacrifice yerself...” Aldrus continued, still looking stunned.
“Not entirely. As much as you seem to believe otherwise, I would actually rather not die. So we can stand here like dimwitted fools waiting for the wights to catch up, or we can get out of here.”
Gabriel glanced over his shoulder. “Well, we can't go back the way we came. There are too many wights.”
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