Wicked As You Wish

by Rin Chupeco

  “Prestigious?”

  “That one. We have a prestigious line. Father’s got a golden tongue, and Mother cries pearls. And two of my older sisters got their curses early. They receive a lot of marriage offers.”

  “I would have assumed the opposite,” Tala said.

  “Well, you can’t boast of marrying into old blood if your daughter-in-law doesn’t turn into a swan at the stroke of midnight at least once in your lifetime.”

  “This is,” Tala said, “very weird for me.”

  “No one’s tried to court you because of your Makiling curse?”

  “I don’t think it works the same way. Does that mean turning into animals is your curse, West?”

  From behind them, Alex snorted. “You can tell what his curse is by looking at him.”

  West blinked, and Zoe’s mouth dropped open. “That was uncalled for, Alex,” Tala hissed.

  Alex looked up, as if realizing what he’d just said. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “That’s true, though,” West said thoughtfully. “We’re an ugly lot. I look like my great-aunt Gertrude, and she got it from my great-great-grandfather, Theodore the Handsome.”

  “Theodore…the Handsome?” Zoe asked.

  “Mother said they call him that for the irony. I don’t understand, though. What’s iron got to do with it?”

  “He might be cursed,” Ken said with a shrug. “But they’re the richest because of it. No curses in my family, if you don’t count my mother’s ability to be heard for miles when she’s mad.”

  “Same,” Zoe said. “My parents divorced a few years ago, so I usually split my time between New York with my dad, and France with my mother. Her family had land in Avalon near Maidenkeep, but escaped to France after the frost. Not much else to talk about.”

  Tala shivered. “And we’re heading for Maidenkeep?”

  “Yup.” Ken cast a sidelong glance at the prince, but Alex was frowning at some point in the distance, paying them no attention. “Vasilisa the Beautiful’s original castle. All sorts of heroes ruled there for a while, like Ye Xian—the one with the glass slipper, right?—and Briar-Rose, and Snow White, and Jack Giantkiller.”

  His voice hardened. “My family lost friends there. Good people. The Snow Queen froze the castle, supposedly with them still inside. We all want a crack at taking back Maidenkeep. The Cheshire promised we would. That’s partly why we’re dragging you into this mess.” He flashed Tala a quick, sheepish smile. “We’re hoping you and His Highness’s firebird can help even the odds.”

  “That might take a while,” Tala said, wincing as a loose branch scraped against her cheek. “I don’t have as much control of my own curse yet to even any kind of odds.”

  “It’s a lot to take in, I warrant. But you’ll do fine. You were pretty good against those ogres.”

  “And for someone whose world paradigm just went through a very radical shift,” Zoe added, “you’re taking all this in better stride than others might have.”

  Tala’s sneaker sank into a deceptively shallow-looking pile of snow, and she flinched at the cold soaking through her sock. “How long have you guys known the truth about my dad?”

  The others hesitated. “From the very start,” Loki admitted quietly. “We thought you knew, at first.”

  Tala rubbed at her eyes. “Aren’t you angry? Why would you let someone who’d done the things he’s done join your cause? Especially when he was responsible for most of the things you fought against?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I think we’ve got enough time to explain exactly why it’s complicated.”

  A longer pause. “He was a murderer,” Zoe acknowledged. “A killer. But he also saved the king’s life more times than anyone can count. Not just Alex’s father, his father before that, and the one before that too. Want to know why we were selected specifically for this mission?”

  Tala nodded her head yes, curious despite herself.

  “It was because your dad, well, he saved some of our families too. He got Ken’s great-grandfather out of an ambush in Nanjing, when they were surrounded by artillery on all sides. The Japanese would have tortured him as a traitor, since Avalon was fighting alongside China during that war. My Jewish great-grandmother was only one of thousands he’d helped smuggle out of France at the height of the Vichy regime.”

  “He hauled both my fathers out of Avalon before the frost came,” Loki supplied.

  “He took a bullet for my mother,” West chimed in.

  “We all owe your dad something,” Zoe concluded. “The Cheshire knew anyone going into this needed strong ties to your father, able to look past old resentments. He’d made the decision to pull him, you, and your mother out of Invierno together with Alex, and he didn’t want someone with revenge on his mind leaving him to ICE or another Beiran agent. He didn’t have any proper identification that wasn’t forged, you see, since he’d been the Scourge for centuries and the Snow Queen wasn’t exactly strict on paperwork.”

  It was a nice gesture of good faith, but they’d wound up leaving her father behind all the same. Tala was too emotionally exhausted to say that out loud, though, or argue the point further. “How old is my father?”

  The others traded glances, looking to see who would speak up first. Oddly enough, it was West who took the bait. The boy sniffed the air, didn’t like what he was smelling, and covered his nose. “Dad said he was young for hundreds of years. He was a teenager who was knighted, and the Snow Queen and him took a shine to each other somewhere along the way. But then he turned on her after the first World War, but it wasn’t till much later, after he met your mum and the frost came, that he started becoming older. He said it might’ve been punishment, or that he’s no longer piggybacking off the Snow Queen’s magic, so he’s aging worse than everyone else.”

  Her father was literally an immortal. Or he’d been one. Tala wanted to cry, and laugh, and break something.

  “He saved my life too,” Alex said quietly.

  Tala stared at him. “You never told me.”

  “He didn’t want me to tell you. I think the idea you might somehow learn of his past frightened him more than anything else, even though he knew that was inevitable. I think he was trying to figure out the right way to tell you when…” he made some vague gestures in the air, “…all this happened. My parents trusted him with their lives. I know that it isn’t easy to forgive him for everything else he’s done, but I think that’s a talk both of you should be having once we find the others again. Your father, Tala… He never once asked us for forgiveness. He’s not well-liked in Avalon, but Father’s influence and your mother’s persistence were the only reasons he was tolerated.”

  Tala looked up at the darkening sky. She didn’t want a war criminal for a father. But he was the only father she’d ever had. “I don’t know what to think right now.”

  “I think your misgivings are completely understandable,” Zoe said carefully. “But I also think this is something we should put aside until we’ve reached safer ground. The firebird’s doing a good job of keeping us warm, but I’m not sure it can do that indefinitely, especially with the cold picking up. Let’s get ourselves to the castle first, then figure things out.”

  “You’ve got us around, anyway, and we’ll keep you from trouble,” Ken promised.

  Loki, Zoe, and West glanced at each other, then started laughing, the tension partly broken.

  “Really, Ken?” Zoe giggled. “You, keep someone else out of trouble? I seem to recall someone being hauled up to the provost’s office on a near-daily basis at charm school. You had to clean out the chamber pots for slipping something into Connor Westfield’s drink.”

  “Charm school?”

  “The Cerridwen School for Thaumaturgy, but we call it charm school. Sort of an inside joke. That’s where we all met. Iceland’s neutral and has no extradition tr
eaty with the Royal States if it involves Avalon, so they can’t get at us there.”

  “Took three hours for Westfield’s nose to return to normal,” Loki agreed. “And then there was replacing half the practice swords in the courtyard with enchanted snakes. I thought they’d make you clean out the stables until you were ninety.”

  “Charm school,” Tala repeated, feeling a little jealous. In some other lifetime, she could have been a part of that too.

  “I’m hurt by all this lack of trust.” Ken sighed, clutching at his chest like he’d been stabbed. “First of all, Westfield deserved it. Second, if you two were keeping an eye out like you were supposed to”—he shot Loki and West a mock glare—“I would never have been caught.”

  Loki rolled their eyes. “Says the guy who literally broke a library today.”

  “That was different.”

  “How?”

  A pause. “I know I have a pretty good explanation for that, once I figure out what it is.”

  Zoe groaned. “‘I’m sure they won’t be too much trouble,’ the Cheshire said. ‘I’m certain you are more than capable of handling three people for a couple of days,’ he said…”

  “What about him?” Tala asked, craning her head to look back at Cole. For his part, the other boy was quiet, content to trail some distance behind them, ostensibly to keep watch over their rear, though it was obvious his relationship with the others was not that of camaraderie.

  “We don’t know him that well,” Ken admitted. “Although his family has a reputation, so to speak. They’ve got property in Avalon and around the mountains bordering Beira too. Some ancestors of theirs were notorious for cheating people out of their lands. Or killing them to get it, then using the bodies for some kind of necromancer magic. Nasty stuff. I mean, look at that scythe of his.”

  “Nottingham?” Light dawned. “Wait. You’re not seriously telling me his ancestor was the Sheriff of Nottingham, are you? The one who fought Robin Hood?”

  “Robin of Locksley. Like I said, the Nottinghams and Locksleys have been going at it for centuries…Zoe could tell you more about it.”

  “Tristan Locksley is Zoe’s fiancé,” West reminded her.

  “For the last time,” Zoe’s said, exasperated. “I am not anyone’s fiancée. Doesn’t anyone understand what ‘dating’ means anymore?”

  “Nope,” the two boys chorused in gleeful unison. Zoe sighed.

  “What about you?” Tala asked Loki.

  “I don’t have as interesting a history as the rest of you.”

  “That’s not true,” West protested. “Loki grew up in this amazing winter outlander place of magic. It’s called Canada.”

  Zoe coughed loudly, swallowing another laugh.

  “I was adopted, so I’m not technically Avalonian, though my fathers are,” Loki said, in their usual quiet manner. “My dad, Anthony, is Chinese though, like me.”

  “Fathers? Oh. Oh.”

  Loki smiled. “We used to camp out almost everywhere in Canada that could be explored, that’s not too cold. That’s why these forests feel familiar to me, even with the frost.”

  “And I’m glad you’re here to lead the way, for one thing,” Zoe said, squinting up into the horizon. “Because without you, I doubt we would have made it all the way to the castle, we’d probably be lost. And unless I’m wrong, there’s a particularly angry-looking storm cloud heading our way. Let’s hope West’s right that it’s his uncle and not a hostile enemy waiting for us.”

  Tala looked up, gulped. The castle was far more imposing and forbidding up close than it had been from a distance, looming before her like the shadow of a giant beast. It sat atop a grassy knoll and was made of rocky black granite. Centuries had weathered down the walls, leaving pockmarked wedges in the stone. A small flag flapped in the wind atop its highest turret.

  “A plover, flying through a field of dragon green,” West explained. “Mother said no one else but my uncle uses that kind of dragon-green color on their coat of arms.”

  “I’m just boggled by the fact you know the word for plover but not for castle,” Zoe murmured.

  “Who goes there?” a voice called out in the semidarkness, alarmed. From the parapets Tala could make out the faint glow of torches above, and then there were silhouettes peering suspiciously down at them, heavy crossbows at the ready. The firebird flattened itself against Alex’s shoulder, trying to stay as unobtrusive as possible.

  “Uncle Hiram?” West called out. “It’s me! West Eddings! Merriwick’s son!”

  “Stay where you are,” the voice commanded. Feet shuffled as one of the shadows disappeared from view while the others remained watchful. A few minutes later, the footsteps returned. “West?” a new voice called down to them. “What are you doing here?”

  “We’re lost, Uncle. We were hoping to stay the night.”

  “Of course. Merriwick’s boy and his friends are always welcomed here.”

  But when the castle gates opened, Tala saw a dozen or so fully armed knights marching out. Actual knights, with armor and helms and swords drawn and pointed at them and everything. There was a quick intake of breath from Zoe, and a gasp from Alex.

  “Bloody Oz,” Ken muttered, the fingers of his right arm twitching. “I thought you were on good terms with your uncle.”

  “I am.” West looked baffled.

  “I’m not sure I want to know how he treats his enemies, then.”

  “They’re literally dressed as knights.” Avalon had only been iced in the last dozen or so years, so finding its inhabitants dressed in feudal gear was alarming to Tala.

  “My uncle follows the old ways,” West whispered. “Families like mine inherit bespelled items that were created hundreds of years ago, but most people don’t know how to reproduce the magic anymore. That’s why we use older weapons and armor instead of making newer spelltech that’s not as strong.”

  “What West means,” Ken said, “is that this whole kingdom can easily be every Renaissance Faire enthusiast’s wet dream.”

  A man strode into view, wearing a dark gray doublet and black breeches. His face was lined and careworn, making him look older, though he walked with a quickness that contradicted his apparent age.

  “That’s my uncle,” West whispered, sounding startled. “The Count of Tintagel. But he doesn’t look it.”

  “Explain.”

  “He hasn’t aged since I last saw him.”

  “That was a dozen years ago, and you were only four. Maybe you don’t remember him?”

  “This will only take a second,” the man promised, turning to a torch-wielding knight. “Shine the light in their eyes.”

  “Stay still,” Zoe suggested softly. “We’re not in a position to entertain misunderstandings.”

  The knight stepped forward, taking West by the chin and thrusting the torch closer, peering intently at his eyes. One by one, the others were scrutinized in turn. Tala flinched as the fire drew closer.

  “If you are who you say, Nephew, then His Highness and his firebird should be among you.” The knight reached for Alex and jumped back with a muttered oath as the firebird lifted its head, hissed once, and flared, surrounding them in an unexpected circle of bright light. Immediately, two dozen swords shifted directions his way.

  “So much for subterfuge,” Ken muttered, reaching for his sword.

  “Wait, Ken!” Zoe said sharply.

  “At ease, gentlemen,” the man commanded at the same time. He drew closer, unafraid. The firebird studied him, then made a show of yawning.

  Chuckling, the man stepped back. “Firebirds despise the Snow Queen as much as we do, and none would travel with those touched by her Deathless. My apologies, young West. Times are hard, and the Cold Lady’s strength grows, even cut off as we are. The Dame predicted that you would arrive six months ago. But she also claimed there would be a Makiling among
you, so I can understand her error. If I may ask, milords, how long has it been since the frost felled Avalon?”

  “A dozen years, my lord,” Ken admitted. “I’m sorry we couldn’t have come sooner.”

  The count fell back, his face falling. Even the knights, previously so well-disciplined, all stirred uneasily, glancing at one another with expressions ranging from concern to horror. “As always, my mother was right,” the count said heavily. “I never doubted her, and yet I’d hoped…but no, the evidence is all before us. West, I am glad you still remember me, though you must have been just a toddler then. And you must be Margrethe Inoue’s son, Kensington.”

  It was Ken’s turn to look amazed.

  “I stood as godfather to Margrethe; she was a distant cousin of my dear wife’s. I see her face in yours. A considerable number of your mother’s thoroughbreds have made their homes in my stables.”

  “You’re a man of fine taste, Sir Tintagel,” Ken said, grinning.

  “And the young man over there must be the Nottingham boy. You have your grandfather’s eyes and general bearing.” Cole shifted uneasily.

  “And His Royal Highness.” The man bowed low, his tone switching to awe. The other knights stood to attention, raising the hilts of their swords in greeting. “You honor my house with your presence, Your Highness. I am sorry we could not protect His Majesty and the queen.”

  “It sounds like you were well prepared for our arrival, milord,” Alex noted. “Despite the six months’ delay.”

  “I’m surprised she could make a close enough prediction given the—the Makilings call it an agimat, do they not? That you are here at all is something to celebrate. Even now, the cold air reeks of new wars. You may very well be the first people to enter Avalon after the frost, and though I rejoice in the knowledge, I also fear what that might mean.” Without warning, the man dropped down to one knee before Alex. Behind him, the knights followed suit, their armors clattering.

  “The House of Tintagel greets the Firekeeper, the true Heir of Avalon,” the man intoned, the words sounding old and archaic. “From winter’s darkness, till dawn of light, do man and dragons battle night. Our swords are yours.”