Twisted Ever After

by Celeste Thrower

  ALSO BY CARLA REIGHARD

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  RED MOON

  BY ERIN CASEY

  LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD COMES ALIVE IN THIS FRESH NEW TWIST OF EVENTS.

  Photographer: Lecia McDermott

  Model: Jessica Streebing

  Carden Gamore warmed her hands near the burning hearth. The motley scent of herbs, blood, and sickness wafted through the room and made her nose wrinkle. It was a smell she was becoming all too familiar with these days. With a plague bringing the village to its knees, all Carden could do was pray to the Mother, Maiden, and Crone that she would have the healing ability to tend the afflicted.

  The door to the infirmary swung open, and her mother staggered in with an older man in her arms. “Carden!”

  Carden scrambled to her feet and helped her mother lower the sick man onto a makeshift cot; the rest were already occupied. “Another one? By the Mother, what is happening to our village?”

  Mother shook her head and wiped sweat from her brow. “I don’t know, but it’s getting worse each day as the snow falls.” She wiped her face again, and as she did, Carden saw her mother’s eyes glaze.

  “Mother!” Carden cried and reached out. Her mother toppled over into her arms and brought them both to the floor. Carden shifted, letting her mother’s head fall limply against her shoulder like a broken doll. “Mother…” Carden said, patting her face.

  “I think...I think I need to rest for a while.”

  Carden’s heart pounded in her chest. She couldn’t lose her mother, too.

  “Carden…”

  “Yes, Mother?” Carden whispered, holding her close as if to protect her from death’s clutches.

  “We can’t defeat this...we need help.” She swallowed. “Go to your grandmother...tell her what’s happened.” She rolled her head back and placed a cool hand on Carden’s trembling cheek. “Don’t forget your red cloak...It will-” Her mother moaned and slumped down before she could finish.

  Carden cursed and pressed her forehead against her mother’s damp hair.

  It wasn’t fair. The village hadn’t asked for this. One moment they’d been celebrating Samhain, and the next the snow had set in and a quarter of the village had fallen ill. Many had already passed, and without help more would soon follow, including her mother.

  She looked outside into the bitter wind and snow. Icicles crystallized over the window, threatening to pierce the heart of anyone who dared tread into the winter-kissed land.

  But beyond that lay the forest, the trees in full bloom and fairy light dancing between the branches. It was the summer woods, forever warm and welcoming. No snow had ever touched its branches or frozen its earth. It was spelled to remain alive forever. It teased the villagers with its beauty, but like a poisonous flower, beneath the beauty lay destruction.

  It was said her grandmother kept the forest at bay so it didn’t consume the village like a hungry beast. It was why Carden hadn’t seen her grandmother in years; no one dared visit her unless they needed a special spell. And even then, not everyone returned. To brave the woods alone was suicide, but staying here was much the same.

  Carden took a steadying breath and helped her mother onto a cot. She draped a blanket over her and placed a cool cloth on her brow. “Hold on,” she said and squeezed her mother’s hand.

  Her fingers slipped away. Carden swung a blood-red cloak around her shoulders and pulled the hood over her head. She glanced around and gathered up herbs, bandages, and two sharp daggers from her mother’s hip belt.

  She would not go unarmed.

  Carden slid out the door, trying to stop the wind from billowing inside.

  She bowed her head to the storm and ran through the brisk, howling wind. Her booted feet sank in the snow, slipping on a bed of ice beneath it. The storm yanked her back towards the village while the forest opened welcoming wooden arms to her. Carden forced herself onward, arm raised against the onslaught.

  And then, just like that, the cold vanished.

  Carden fell onto a soft bed of foliage. Green leaves cradled her and lowered her to the ground. She panted and rolled onto her back and stared past the woodland wall. She could scarcely see the village through the snow. But the wintry wind didn’t follow her. Instead, a warm breeze kissed her cheeks and chased away the chill.

  Carden gathered her senses and pushed herself to her feet. Her red cloak fluttered around her as she worked her way through the trees.

  They were like nothing she’d ever seen before. Though the trunks were a deep shade of mahogany, unfamiliar designs were etched into the bark. She wasn’t sure if it was a language or not, but the swirled symbols created a beautiful pattern that seemed to pulse a faint aura of magic.

  Emerald ivy wound around the trees and waved in the wind beside her cheek. Carden smiled to herself, feeling more at ease as she walked through the forest. Everything was so lush and alive. Fruits dangled from branches and grew on bushes. A sparkling creek gurgled near her feet. Even the warmth of sunlight embraced her.

  It was strange to think that people feared this place.

  Something flickered out of the corner of her eye and caught her attention. Colorful balls of light danced in the air. When Carden squinted, she saw the faint outline of a woman with wings in the orb of light.

  Fairies!

  A yellow fairy caught sight of Carden and flew towards her on iridescent wings.

  “Hello,” Carden greeted.

  The fairy smiled, revealing needle-sharp teeth. Before Carden could react, the fairy burst into flames and reached for her red cloak. The other fairies zoomed towards her, their teeth gnashing.

  Carden ran. She leapt over roots and dashed around trees as the fairies grabbed at her. One singed her hair, but the others latched onto her ruby cloak. She undid the clasp and let the flaming cloth flutter to the ground behind her. The fairies stopped with it, allowing Carden to escape.

  For the next few hours, Carden tried to stay away from anything that might try to bite, burn, or eat her. Eventually, she sank down on a fallen tree and dropped her head into her hands. All of her belongings, save for her daggers, had been lost in her journey, either burned by fairies or snatched by trees. Even her satchel of herbs, she now realized, had been stripped away.

  As she fell into despair, she heard a quiet creak behind her. Carden turned sharply and peered into the darkening woods, hand on her blade. “Who’s there?”

  “A friend,” came a deep, gruff reply. The branches shook a little until a burly man with a red beard and well-used ax came into view. He wore dirty brown breeches and a pale white shirt that let a few hairs poke out. His smile was warm, his eyes twinkling.

  Carden relaxed.

  “Are you lost, lass?” the Huntsman asked.

  Carden nodded and stood up. “I’m trying to find my grandmother, but the forest keeps attacking me. It looked so beautiful at first.”

  The Huntsman chuckled and placed a meaty, callused hand against a tree trunk. “Aye, most maidens who come into the woods think that. But it’s not trying to hurt you; it’s trying to warn you.”

  “Warn me?” Carden asked in confusion. “Of what?”

  The Huntsman smiled. He tapped the tree trunk twice, causing the markings to glow. “Of me.”

  Ivy shot out from the tree and hooked around Carden’s wrists and ankles. She yelped as it jerked her off of her feet and yanked her towards the trunk. Before she hit it, the vines bound her arms behind her. More ivy tethered her legs then dropped her unceremoniously on the ground.

  The Huntsman grabbed the bundle of vines around her and lifted her up onto his shoulder.

  “Why are you doing this!” Carden cried. “I—mph!” Her protests died as an ivy tendril gagged her.

  The Huntsman patted her lightly. “It’s nothing personal, lass, but I have a job to do. She’ll be cross with me if I let you run free.”

  She? Carden wanted to ask. She lo
oked around wildly for something, anything, that could help her, but she was alone save for her captor. She squirmed and groped for her daggers, but even those were out of reach.

  The Huntsman carried her none-too-gently through the trees. Silver moonlight fell across their bodies and cast long shadows along the forested floor. Except there was only one shadow; hers.

  Her eyes widened in alarm until a howl in the distance turned her surprise to fear.

  The Huntsman skidded to a halt. He cursed and pulled his ax close. “I know you’re there, beast,” he growled. “You’re not taking another one from me.”

  Carden didn’t know who he was talking to. She looked around, but she couldn’t see what he knew was there.

  Suddenly, something dark darted through her shadow and crashed into the Huntsman’s legs. He dropped with a cry and sent Carden rolling across the dirt. She struck her head hard on the side of a tree. As her vision blurred, she saw a black wolf pounce on the Huntsman. The creature snapped its teeth down around the Huntsman’s throat, and he burst into smoke.

  Then all was dark.

  Carden woke to the familiar sound and smell of a crackling fire. Her head hurt something fierce. A brief movement of her hand told her she was no longer bound, but she didn’t reach for her head. She slid her hand towards her waist, feeling for her daggers.

  “They’re not there,” a female voice spoke.

  Carden’s eyes snapped open with a start. She sat up and promptly slumped over as a wave of dizziness descended.

  A warm hand caught her before she hit her head again.

  “Easy,” the woman said. Two hands lowered her back towards the ground until Carden’s head settled on a soft bundle.

  “Ow,” Carden groaned. This time she did test the lump on her head. It was the size of a goose egg and hot to the touch. She opened her eyes slowly and peered at the woman.

  She was taller than Carden, and of more muscular build. Rich, black hair flowed down her shoulders, kissed with silver strands. Her clothes were...peculiar. She wore a vest that left her arms and belly bare, and breeches cut off at the knee. They hugged her body tightly, enhancing the curvature of her muscles, her hips...her breasts.

  Carden blushed.

  She braced herself on her elbows and found the other woman’s icy blue eyes watching her curiously. The woman’s gaze darted up to the lump, and she frowned.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she said, gesturing to the wound. “I got a little carried away this time.”

  “Sorry?” Carden asked. “Why are you sorry? It was the Huntsman who dropped me because of that wolf.”

  The woman chuckled and smiled. Two white fangs shined in her mouth. “Well, I would be that wolf.”

  The color drained from Carden’s face and her hands turned to ice. She stared at the sharp teeth and the sudden golden glint in the woman’s eyes. “Werewolf,” she breathed.

  The woman’s smile faded as she held out her hands. “Yes, werewolf, but I mean you no harm. The only one you should be worried about is the witch who roams the forest. She sends her Huntsman after young women such as yourself. I’ve been trying to stop him.”

  “But, you destroyed him! I saw him disappear when you bit him.”

  The woman shook her head. Her raven tresses danced along her strong shoulders. “He’s a ghoul. I can destroy him, but he’ll just reappear a few hours later. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve killed him, and the number of young women I’ve saved.” Her eyes grew dark and she glanced at the dying fire. “And the many I’ve lost.”

  Carden tucked her legs under her skirts and held them close. “What does she want with them?”

  “To drain them of their youth,” the werewolf hissed. “She wishes to be young and beautiful forever, and the only way to do that is to drain the life out of young women. The Huntsman brings them to her. The only ones I’ve seen escape her clutches are those dressed in red. The Huntsman avoids them.”

  Carden blinked in surprise. Why would the Huntsman attack her then? She was wearing her…

  She touched her throat and remembered the fairies had burned the cloak away. “My grandmother said that red protects you in these woods.” She closed her fist beneath her chin and sucked in a breath. Thank the Mother that her grandmother was older, otherwise she might have been drained as well. “Can you help me?” she asked. “I have to get to my grandmother. My village has fallen ill, and she’s the only one who can help. She’s an herbalist who lives in the forest. She’s stopped the woods from taking over our village.” Her eyes brightened. “Maybe she can stop this witch!”

  “Maybe…” the werewolf said, but she sounded doubtful. She turned towards the dying fire and picked up a jar at her side. Carden almost scrambled away when she saw a fire fairy bouncing around inside. The wolf paused. “It won’t hurt you.” She opened the jar and emptied the fairy towards the fire pit. The fairy flew gracefully around the logs, igniting them again. Instead of attacking, she settled down on the wood, and folded her hands behind her head happily.

  Carden could only stare. “One of them attacked me and burned my cloak!”

  “They do do that from time to time. They think it’s playing. You just have to know how to work with them.” She rolled her shoulders then held out her hand. “I’m Vinya.”

  Carden hesitated a moment then took it. “Carden Gamore. Are you the only werewolf here?”

  Vinya nodded sadly. “My pack and I traveled here a month ago to get out of the winter storm. I, and two of my pack sisters, were lured to the witch by the Huntsman. When she tried to drain us of our essence...she failed.” She touched her chest. “We, werewolves, are creatures of magic. And we don’t give it up easily.” She lowered her hand and rested it over a deep scar on her arm. “She ordered our deaths. The Huntsman destroyed my family, but I escaped. And I swore my vengeance on her. I won’t rest until the witch is dead, and the young women who come to this forest are safe.”

  Carden stared at Vinya and felt her heart warm. The conviction with which she spoke was similar to what Carden felt in her heart towards her own village. She would die to bring the life-saving medicine back to her people. She admired the werewolf, silhouetted by the moon and the fire’s flames.

  Vinya glanced at her beneath hooded eyes. “I’ll help guide you to your grandmother’s and then back out of the forest. My oath of protection goes to you now.”

  “Thank you,” Carden said quietly. She looked up at the moon and squinted. “Why is it you aren’t a wolf? Aren’t you supposed to change under the full moon?”

  Vinya flashed a toothy smile. “You mustn’t believe everything you hear. Werewolves can shift at will, but we don’t let just anyone know that.” She pushed herself to her feet and brushed dirt and leaves off of her bare legs. “Though, we will travel faster if you ride me in my wolf form. Do you know where your grandmother lives?”

  “In a cottage at the heart of the forest. And...what do you mean ride you?”

  Vinya smirked and stepped backwards into the moonlight. “Watch.” She tilted her head back and spread out her arms, letting the moon caress her skin. Fur sprouted across her flesh, and her black hair raced down her back and started to cover her clothing. Her body twisted gracefully, like a dancer, and started to reshape into something powerful and fierce. Huge paws emerged where her hands and feet once were, claws breaking through her skin at the tips. She landed on all fours as a tail sprouted from her behind. Her mouth elongated into a long muzzle and filled with rows of dazzling, sharp teeth.

  When the transformation finished, Vinya stood nearly at Carden’s shoulder. Vinya licked her muzzle and blinked her blue eyes away until they were gold.

  “Ride me,” Vinya repeated in a gruff voice. With the same grace as her transformation, she lowered herself and presented her back.

  Carden stared at Vinya for a long moment, wondering if she was mad to dare to ride a werewolf.

  “Well?” Vinya pressed.

  Carden sighed and picked up her disc
arded daggers. She climbed onto the werewolf’s back. When Vinya rose, Carden squeaked in surprise and hugged her furry neck.

  “I won’t drop you,” Vinya promised. “Though...could you not choke me either?”

  “Sorry!” Carden loosened her hold, only to squeal as Vinya took off.

  They raced through the forest, the trees blurring past them. Carden leaned down and pressed her face against Vinya’s back. She could feel the werewolf’s powerful muscles rippling beneath her arms and legs. She expected ivy vines to grab at them both, but nothing touched them. It was as if the forest quaked at Vinya’s presence.

  Yet, as they traveled, the fairies emerged from their hiding places and started to follow. A fire fairy buzzed near Vinya’s ear and settled on the tip, but didn’t burn her. Another came to Carden’s shaking hand and sat on top of her knuckles. The warmth of the fairy soothed her, and she smiled at the little creature.

  “Thank you.”

  The fairy wiggled her wings in response and nestled against Carden’s hand.

  The moonlight seemingly guided their way. Soon, the trees started to part to reveal a stone path. In the distance, a beautiful cottage took shape. Flowers and ivy clung to the walls and grew out of pots on the front lawn. An old rock chimney puffed smoke into the night sky, carrying the scent of freshly baked goods. A single light flickered on in the window.

  Carden smiled. “There. That’s-”

  Vinya skidded, almost sending Carden flying off of her back. She clung to the werewolf and gasped as Vinya leapt into a bundle of bushes. Red fruit splattered beneath her paws, and a berry exploded on Carden’s cheek, painting it crimson.

  “What are you doing?” Carden protested.

  “Hush!” Vinya lowered herself and peered through the bushes. “This can’t be your grandmother’s home.”

  “Of course it is,” Carden said. “I’ve visited it before with my mother. Isn’t it beautiful?”