Declan took the spurn. Gazing off into the distance of the woods, he saw Alara look sidelong at Cedric from the corner of his eye. She smiled.
Her guard had just spoken of her imminent death, and Declan couldn’t think of a reason for her to be smiling.
When she glanced back at Declan and saw him watching her, the smile disappeared. Her eyes became tired and sad. She moved the blanket underneath her and lay on the hard ground. She never complained. Not about the day-long ride or the prospect of sleeping outdoors, and not in a bed. She turned onto her back and averted her gaze from the men around the fire to the stars in the sky.
The prince found himself looking up at the night sky, as well. There seemed to be a new star. It twinkled just a bit brighter than the rest. Declan laid back against the still-rolled blanket and rested his head in his hands. The last thing he recalled was the twinkling of the lights in the sky.
When morning broke, there was too much commotion for them to be alone in the dense wood. Declan glanced around for his two companions but found them gone.
Only one strap fastened Alara’s bedroll to her horse as if she’d been interrupted. Cedric had never taken his from the saddle, but he’d draped his royal guard cloak over the back of the horse.
Declan spun around as he pulled himself to his feet; movements that would one day serve him when he joined the ranks of the royal guard. He heard voices coming from some ways away. The prince took his sword from the ground beside him—sheath in one hand and hilt in the other. He drew it slowly as he walked, his body in a crouch.
“I’m not going to tell you again. We don’t have time for this. Either you let her go, or I’ll kill you now.” Cedric seemed to be trying to coax the queen free of her captor.
“No. There will be no killing for me!” Alara screamed.
“Majesty, that is the only option if they don’t release you,” Cedric cried out.
“Majesty? Who is this ‘Majesty’ you speak of?” The creature who held the queen was large. He spoke slowly and sounded as if his mouth were full. His color was off. He looked like he’d been born from the earth. His teeth protruded his mouth from the bottom, reaching out and up to his nose in the corner of his lips. He was bald, with pointed ears at the side of his head.
When Declan looked more closely, he noticed four more within the trees behind the one who’d taken the queen around the waist. He carried her with one arm like she weighed nothing more than a loaf of bread. He seemed less concerned with Cedric at his side than he did with the title he’d used.
Declan stepped from between the trees. His back straightened; his sword pointed at the creature. “You are manhandling Queen Alara of Anaphias. Let her go now, or you will be killed.” Declan sorely hoped the beast let the queen go. He’d just realized what the look on Cedric’s face was, and he didn’t look forward to going against the new foes. They were something he’d never seen before.
The creature seemed to think of the prince’s words for a moment. His bare head scrunched up, and he looked back to his friends. One of them nodded, and the creature set Alara down on her feet. “You were always a fair and just queen. Our people did not starve when you and King Tomas took the throne together. I will not eat Queen Alara.” It appeared he made an attempt to bow, and he and the rest of his kind took off running through the trees. They couldn’t be seen, but Declan felt the thumping of the ground beneath his feet.
“Is there anything you can do?” Declan slid his sword into the sheath and belted it around his waist. “You can’t follow at the right distance, you can’t guard, and you can’t fight. What is the purpose of having you on this quest?” He considered the guard.
“That’s hardly fair, Declan.” Alara straightened her dress and replaced her cloak hanging from one arm.
Cedric walked to her and placed a protective arm around her. She appeared visibly shaken. Her ankles wobbled underneath her skirt, and she clung to Cedric to stay upright.
“I see.” Declan turned on his heel and headed back to his horse.
"You don't know what you're talking about," she called after him. "Cedric has been guarding me in a palace room for the last twenty years. He's had no formal combat training that I am aware of." She paused to look at Cedric for confirmation. When he lowered his eyes to the ground, she continued, "Your father took a sixteen-year-old boy and made him my personal lookout. If you want him to be anything different, maybe you should be sparring with him while we are camped."
"That's not the point, Alara, and you know it. He's no use to us. Why don't we have further guards?" he all but yelled at her.
Alara looked at the ground at her feet. She didn't want to admit she refused to take his father's guards for fear Talia would return to the palace and make sure she ended what she had started. Who knew? Maybe getting them away from the castle was precisely what Talia attempted to do, and they ate right out of her hands, giving her free reign over the palace, the guard, and the king.
“Because we didn’t need them. This doesn’t need to turn into a fight.”
“Not a fight? What do you think those trolls would have done to you, had they not liked you once upon a time?” He seethed with anger, and Alara could see his father pour through him. He looked just as Tomas had when he complained about his own father’s unfairness. Alara knew she would not win his favor this way.
Before she could concede, Cedric interrupted.
“If you two are quite finished, we should get going. If we leave now, we can reach the ruins before nightfall. Unless you’d rather stay here and not fight.” The guard swung his cloak over his shoulders and attached his sword to his belt. Satisfied the yelling match had ceased, he pulled himself onto his horse, leaving Alara to fend for herself.
She didn’t mind. She had one foot in the stirrup, about to pull herself up to swing over the other, when two strong hands grabbed her by the waist. Alara was hoisted up and then plopped down on the left side of the saddle.
“Today you ride sidesaddle. You’re no use to us if we get there and you can’t walk.” Declan moved quickly, getting into his own saddle. He snapped the reins forcefully, making his horse gallop away.
“Ugh,” she protested once he moved out of earshot.
“Careful, Majesty. You sound more like the sixteen-year-old prince than a grown woman,” Cedric jested.
“Yeah, well technically, I’m only nineteen, remember?” She tapped her heel on the side of her mare and moved the reins.
The way to Vlora was ingrained into her memory as if she’d just visited the day before. Although if she thought about it, it was more like last week, if she did not count her time cursed by the witch.
She led her mare up and over the small rock formations. A shortcut the prince argued to great lengths about not taking proved to be the same as it had been the last time Alara visited.
She told him the terrain was rough, but her horse was used to it. Queenie had been with her since childhood. A magical horse gifted to the princess, at birth, by the fae. She could change to any color that suited her mood.
When Alara visited the stables for the first time since waking, she hardly recognized the animal. She was stark black. So much so that she blended into the shadows. She’d only seen her when she called out.
The horse turned a bright shade of pink when she’d heard Alara. She was a cluster of colors for days after.
Once satisfied Alara would be visiting her daily, Queenie had resumed her natural opal coloring. In the sun, she almost looked like she was covered in silver glitter. Any little girl would be happy to have such an animal.
The only reason she knew she would wake each morning was that her body tended to spasm as she slept. At first, they caused her pain. Now, she welcomed them.
Lying down at night was still the hardest part of her days. She feared she would never be able to open her eyes again; to speak out when spoken to.
She didn’t want Declan or even Cedric to know, but she enjoyed the banter going on between them. That didn’
t mean she wouldn’t make a show of pouting like a teenage child. It’s how she felt since the moment she’d woken.
She couldn’t be anyone’s queen regent or the queen mother. Her child was just a few years younger than her. She may have been born almost forty years ago, but her body and mind still felt much more youthful.
Queenie missed her footing as a stone slid free of where she stepped, causing the animal to slide backward against rock and dirt. Alara tried to work her with the reins but sitting sidesaddle had her at a disadvantage.
Queenie bucked and slipped again, and Alara felt the backside of her gown move against the sleek frame of her mare. She fell to the rocks, banging her head against a large boulder.
One of Queenie’s hoofs landed on Alara’s abdomen. She cried out and could feel the blood running out of the corner of her mouth.
The horse reared back on her hind legs and jumped sideways to miss the queen lying against the rock. The men were several paces behind her. She hadn’t bothered looking for them for more than an hour. She had no clue how long she would lay there until they caught up to her.
She turned onto her side, spitting blood against the rocks, and climbed, her mare returning down the hill towards the prince. Once they saw her animal without her on it, they would know something had happened. Until then, she would need to get up, away from the rocks.
Alara saw the top of the hill, not more than ten feet in front of her. To climb it on foot may have been a better idea. Though if she’d had both of her thighs wrapped around her horse, she may already be at the top… without injuries.
As she moved to her knees, her dress tore against rock and loose tree limbs. She quickly became tangled in the fabric. She pulled at the hole in the garment and shortened it to knee length. Once she untangled her feet, she made it to her knees and crawled upward.
Alara’s knees scraped against the jagged rock. She grabbed onto a larger one to hoist herself up, and it came loose from the ground. Just as she thought it would fly backward, landing on her, a hand moved it from behind, pushing it back in place.
Alara quickly let go of the stone and sat back. Arms reached around her and hoisted her off the ground. When her head lolled back, she saw Declan’s face staring back at her with a disapproving frown before she blacked out.
Alara could hear their voices and felt the movement of the horse beneath her; the hard body holding tightly to her, keeping her upright as they rode. Her eyes wouldn’t open, and she began to hyperventilate.
She thrashed against the body that held her, and the cloak fell from her head. Her eyes weren’t closed but covered from the brightness of the sun. She calmed against Cedric, noticing they rode atop his horse. She sat with her back to him, his arm wrapped tightly around her midsection.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let that happen to you again,” he whispered into her ear, his breath warm against her skin.
It made her melt against him, then she sat upright.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said quickly.
“I heard what you told the prince when you woke. That you’d heard it all. Felt it all. That you were trapped inside your body, with no way to communicate with those around you. That had to be terrifying,” he moved his mouth away from her then. “It won’t happen again. I won’t let it.”
He glanced behind them to Declan. They’d cleared the rocks and entered the land of Vlora; another dominion she held, though she’d rather have her parents than their realm.
“It was horrible,” she whispered to the air, not intending for anyone to hear her.
“I can only imagine.” He glanced back again, and Declan caught his look. “She’s awake.”
Declan moved his horse, so they rode side by side. “How do you feel?” He looked withdrawn.
“My stomach is quite sore. I imagine I’ll have a nasty bruise for a while. Might not be able to ride alone for a few days.” She observed Cedric, who gave her a nod.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have insisted you ride sidesaddle. I thought I was helping.” Declan stared ahead, being careful not to look at her.
“Thank you. You know, I do know how to do these things. I’m not just a little girl.” She sucked her teeth at him.
“No, you’re a queen. Still, I should have let you ride your way. It won’t happen again.”
He slowed his horse, and Alara noticed he held the reigns to Queenie as well. She rode side by side with the prince’s gelding, matching his tawny brown color.
When she returned her gaze to the front of them, she saw the house Tomas had spoken of. It seemed as he had described. She’d made him tell her all about it, and of how Landon had grown up, what kind of man he was becoming, and how the fae had treated him.
They dismounted the horses and tied them to a tree behind a shed. The outside held no visible struggles. Once they stepped inside, it was a different story.
Alara had to keep her arms against her stomach to subdue the pain. She tried to rid herself of the dried blood around her mouth as she looked at the contents of the home, strewn from one end to the other.
The sofa was upturned. Cabinets were blown open, and doors hung askew or were blown off altogether.
The oven was left open. Something resembling a cake sat inside, burnt to a crisp, though no physical damage remained to the stove.
On further inspection, Alara noticed the glass was missing in most of the windows. The little herb box on the windowsill had been dumped over.
Declan kicked at the debris and glass on the floor. “Looks like a war went on in here.” He picked up a wooden dragon, painted red, and studied it. “I knew something would have happened, but all this? It looks like whatever it was wasn’t provoked till they were all inside. But… where are the fae?” He looked around, trying to listen to the inside of the house.
Cedric had walked around the outside, and Alara could hear him moving things around nearby. “I think I found them.” Cedric stood outside of the kitchen window.
Alara moved as quickly as she could with her insides damaged. She began to think her mare had done more than give her a few bruises. She could taste the metallic flavor of blood in her mouth with every other step she took. She made it to the outside of the house and dropped to the ground.
The sisters were back in their usual states. The three of them looked like they had been thrown from the window to land just outside, sprawled on the ground. Blood covered their bodies, and two of them had landed in unnatural positions, signifying they had broken necks.
Alara averted her eyes, putting her hand over her mouth. She nearly walked away when Declan grabbed her hand.
“One is still alive,” he didn’t pull her but gave her a minute to collect herself.
She sprang to the ground at the red-haired woman, who was no bigger than a toddler's closed fist. Blood covered her face from scratches caused by going through the glass of the window. Her short-cropped red curls were matted to her head, mixed with her blood and dirt.
The woman held her hand off the ground to Alara. She wheezed with each breath she took. Alara offered a finger to her, and the fae grabbed hold.
A warmth went through her, like nothing she’d ever experienced in her life. She thought her hand glowed, and her body felt weightless.
“What are you doing?” The fae woman held onto her so tightly, she couldn’t have broken free if she wanted to, so she sat waiting. She looked back at Declan and Cedric, but both shrugged their shoulders at her, their faces drawn.
Finally, the woman loosened her grip and looked at Alara. “I took their life force from them hours ago so they wouldn’t suffer. They went peacefully.” Her eyes filled with tears as the smile reached them.
“Tell us how we can help you,” Alara begged the fae.
“You can’t. Just take the gift we’ve given as payment for what we did; what we were forced into doing. Just know your son grew up right; instilled with the right values that will help him be the very best king we’ve ever had. Though he
’s a child still and can make mistakes, don’t cast judgment. He will be a great king.” She laid her head down and closed her eyes. “You have the gift of three fae. Strong magic now lies within you. Find Iren. He will guide you.” With her last words, she was gone. Her hand slid to the ground.
Alara’s hand went back to cover her mouth, but not in fear of retching.
In shock.
Tears slid from her eyes, falling on the ground around the woman. Declan found a dish towel nearby and covered their small bodies.
AFTER finding the three sisters the way they had, Cedric was more convinced than before that something terrible had happened to the crown prince.
He didn’t express his feelings to Alara.
He didn’t have to say anything to Declan. He could see in his eyes that he’d felt the same thing. His brother might be lost to him forever, after a lifetime of searching. There may be nothing to search for.
After Declan covered the women, he found a small wooden crate to put them in. He dug a spot by a lemon tree on the back end of the property and buried the fae.
That’s where he stood, looking down at the upturned earth of the grave belonging to the beings who’d taken— then protected and raised— his brother far from the clutches of his mother.
Cedric watched as Alara slowly walked to the prince. It was as if she couldn’t bring herself to mourn the women— torn between anger, sadness, and an overwhelming need to flee; to find the prince and have him safe by her side.
She placed a hand on his shoulder. Her head dipped, and they stood neither talking. Declan didn’t even move to acknowledge her there.
Cedric didn’t know how long he should let them remain by the small grave or if he should say anything at all, but one of them needed to ask the bigger question. He made his way over to the tree and cleared his throat so he didn’t startle them.
Alara let her hand drop and turned to look at him. Her face held the façade of a monarch. “Where should we go next?”
Alara's Curse Page 7