by Wild, Callie
Fifteen minutes later they were both atop one of the tallest trees surrounding the castle, preparing to glide over the moat of molten lava. Aaron shot a grapple with a rope attached over the edge of the wall that surrounded the keep and secured the other end to a sturdy tree limb. With any luck, they should be able to crawl across the rope and onto the castle grounds without getting close enough for a surge of lava to harm them.
They would be suspended twenty feet above the drawbridge, presumably higher than anyone who had attempted to cross the moat before.
Of course, the height presented other difficulties…
“Are you sure you’ll have the strength to pull yourself across?” he asked, concern tight in his tone. “If you take a fall from that height, you’ll—”
“I’ll be fine, Aaron. I’ve worked a farm alone since I was eighteen. You can’t do that without a bit of muscle.”
Before he could speak another word of caution, she stood, walked along the limb where they were perched with the grace of a trapeze artist, and swung out onto the rope.
“Careful!” Aaron warned in a harsh whisper, as if the lava could hear him.
But for all he knew, it could. He was far from an expert in anything enchanted.
With a thumbs up in his direction, she looped her legs around the rope and slowly began inching her way across. It was a more sensible grip than using only the strength of her arms. He was actually glad she’d gone first, even if he did wish she had given him more notice so they could have discussed the plan one more time. They’d covered the outline of his strategy several times, but he believed there was no such thing as being too prepared.
He waited until she pulled herself up to straddle the castle wall before he added his weight to the rope. As he made his way across, the heat from the lava below drifted over him in dizzying waves, making his entire body begin to perspire. By the time he reached Calliope, his palms were perilously slick and he was grateful for the added security of his legs wrapped around the rope as he pulled himself up to straddle the rock wall.
“What next?” Calliope asked in a hushed tone, looking down at the brambles that filled the castle’s courtyard. “From what I remember of the tales, the vines come to life when someone tries to make their way through them to the tower.”
“So it would be better to continue with the rope if possible. Go over, rather than through.” Aaron studied the castle’s layout, wondering if he had enough rope left to clear the one hundred feet between them and the tower.
“Well, we could try that, but look at the line of the wall.”
He followed the direction of her finger. The wall they sat upon circled around to the opposite side of the tower. If they were to use the rope from that side, they’d only have to clear fifteen to twenty feet before being inside the tower itself.
It was an excellent solution, though he couldn’t help wishing the wall were more than eight inches wide.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it around without losing my balance,” he admitted. “I’m not as light on my feet as you are.”
“Who says you have to stand? We can scoot around.” She demonstrated by shifting her weight forward onto her hands and then lifting her hips and pulling them forward as well.
The method might leave him unable to sire children, but it was preferable to hacking his way through a living forest of vines. Alone, he might have chosen to battle the brambles, but he would endure any amount of agony in his groin to keep Calliope away from those deadly looking thorns.
The scooting was a slow business, however. Judging by the movement of the sun, it took nearly half an hour for them to inch their way around to the other side of the castle wall. Still, all remained silent as the grave below them.
The silence, however, did nothing to ease Aaron’s mind. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone, or something, was watching them, all too willing to let them exhaust themselves before leaping from the shadows.
Perhaps it was simply the eerie sight of the enchanted court that plagued him. Every so often he would catch a glimpse of what looked like a dead body, tangled in the vines. Upon closer inspection, however, he could see the healthy color that tinged the man or woman’s cheeks. The people here weren’t dead, merely sleeping, as their princess slept, waiting for the moment when a prince would wake her.
There were sleeping men who looked like warrior princes trapped in the vines, as well, but no sign of Johann. For the first time, Aaron allowed himself to acknowledge the fact that his brother might not have made it past the moat and this rescue mission could be in vain. If Johann had been consumed in the lava, his bones would have been incinerated. His body would never be found, even if Calliope managed to free the castle from its enchantment.
“That window there would be easy to access,” Calliope whispered over her shoulder. “But the creature lives in the tower. It guards the passage up to Rosamund’s room. We’ll have to be careful not to disturb it on the way in.”
“The grapple will make a noise against the stone, there’s no help for that.” Aaron eyed the window she had indicated. It was lower than their position on the wall. He might be able to use that to his advantage, sliding down and through the window quickly and have his sword drawn in time.
He pulled the pack off his back, finding what he sought in a matter of moments.
“What’s that for?” Calliope eyed the cloth bandage curiously.
“I’ll wrap it around my hands and use the cloth to slide down the rope. If I’m fast, I’ll be through the window before the dragon reaches my position.”
“It’s half dog, half dragon.”
“Right.” Did that make it better or worse than a mere dragon?
He had no idea and suddenly wished he’d paid closer attention to Johann when he’d talked of battling such creatures.
“That means it might have smelled us already,” Calliope supplied, “and be waiting for you just inside the window. The dragon aspect would make it clever enough to do so. I think this might be the time for magic.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I’ll go into the tower first,” she said. “If the creature is waiting, I’ll cast the spell I used on you last night to blind it and pin it to the wall.”
“No,” he said, pulling the second grapple from the pack. “You aren’t going in first.”
“Why not? It’s my creature to kill. My magic created it and—”
“But it is my brother’s rescue that brought us here.”
“But it is my magic that will be needed to free Rosamund. If you fail to kill the beast, I’ll still have to attempt to spell it.”
“What you do after my death or enchantment is your business, but at the moment I’m not prepared to let you risk yourself,” Aaron said, so concentrated on the knot he was making to bind the rope to the grapple that he was unprepared for her next question.
“Why?” she asked softly. “Why are you so reluctant to see me harmed?”
He lifted his head, catching her searching blue eyes, and for just a moment that feeling surged inside him, that feeling that he loved her and that the worst thing that could happen to him would be to see her hurt.
But that feeling wasn’t real, no matter how much he wanted it to be.
He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the rope. “Because you are my subject. A good king puts the welfare of his people before himself.”
“I am only one of your subjects,” she said. “If you truly put your people before yourself, then let me go first. If I’m killed, it’s no great loss to our country.”
He sighed. “Calliope, please—”
“In fact, if you mean what you say, you shouldn’t be here at all. You should go back to the castle and send someone else to free your brother. Who will rule Outer Kartolia if both you and Johann are lost to this wicked place?”
For the first time since meeting her, Aaron wasn’t pleased by Calliope’s quick wit. He had asked himself the same question a
hundred times, but he couldn’t trust anyone else to save his brother. Johann was the only family he had left, and whether it made him a good king or not, family would always come first.
But that didn’t explain why he was reluctant to let Calliope go. According to his own logic, risking her life was preferable to risking that of the king’s. After all, she wasn’t family.
Then why does she feel so dear to your heart?
He didn’t have time to answer the unspoken question before Calliope raised her hands and began to chant.
“Calliope, don’t you dare! I swear I—”
His throat locked as the rest of his muscles froze in place, trapping him on the edge of the wall. She left him his sight this time, however, so he was able to watch as she hurled the grapple into the tower window and grabbed the cloth from his hand.
She pressed one last, swift kiss to his lips before sliding out of sight into the darkness of the enchanted tower. And then she was gone, this woman who—now that it could be too late—he realized it would kill him to lose.
CHAPTER TEN
Calliope
Calliope landed safely inside the darkened tower, every muscle tensed and ready to spell the monster that guarded Rosamund. But there wasn’t a sound on the stairs.
It was as quiet and tomblike as the rest of the castle.
“Curious,” Calliope mumbled, her heart beating fast as she climbed toward the top of the tower, fearing the creature would launch itself out of the darkness at any moment, and rip out her throat before she could chant a word of her spell.
She assumed that’s why she reacted as she did to the sight around the next bend.
“Ahhh!” She screamed loud enough to wake the court from their enchanted sleep as she scrambled away from the decapitated body sprawled in her path.
It was the beast. Already dead, it’s blood thick and sludgy on the floor.
“It’s all right, it’s all right,” she chanted, trembling as she picked her way around the monster. She’d never seen so much blood, or smelled anything like the stench that blossomed around the rotting corpse. “Keep walking, Calliope. Just keep walking.”
She repeated the mantra silently to herself as she continued to climb, wondering what she would find when she reached Rosamund’s chamber.
The beast who guarded her was dead. Surely that meant that Johann, or some other prince, had slain the thing. Logic would then assume that he had made his way to Rosamund’s room, delivered the kiss and the proposal, and that they would both be free to leave as the various other enchantments faded away.
But the lava and brambles didn’t seem a bit “faded” and the rest of Rosamund’s court was still asleep.
Something had gone wrong, but what?
“I suppose I’ll know soon enough,” Calliope muttered as she crept up to the heavy wooden door at the top of the stairs. She put her ear to the wood, but heard nothing, giving her no clue what might wait for her on the other side.
Slowly she turned the giant handle and the door swung easily open into the room. On the other side, Rosamund lay in her bed, surrounded by a yellow canopy with chiffon curtains that caught the sun and made the tower room glow with a warm, friendly light. The space was fragranced with jasmine and light music filled the air.
It was a peaceful place, a lovely place…except for the two men suspended from the ceiling, looking very near death.
Calliope gasped and brought a hand to her throat, as if doing so might somehow help the poor princes to breathe. The rope at their necks was tight, but not tight enough to kill them. Both struggled slightly, hands clawing at their necks, though the smaller one seemed more energetic about the fight than the larger.
Johann. It had to be Aaron’s brother.
The golden skin and dark eyes were the same, though Johann was smaller than the king, still possessing the thin frame of a boy not yet out of his teens. The other man was larger and older. Calliope thought she recognized him as Pater the Strong, the Barbarian prince from the lands beyond Kartolia, who had disappeared months before. She suspected he was the one who had killed the beast, which would explain how the smaller Johann was able to make it this far.
But Calliope had no clue why the princes were being held captive or by what. It was certainly not an aspect of her enchantment.
No, it is something I developed on my own.
Calliope yelped, spinning around to find the door behind her slamming closed, but no one else in the room. “Hello? Who’s there?”
No who, but what. The room. The room is in the room.
“I—I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” Calliope shivered as the dusty voice creaked through her mind.
With her history, she shouldn’t be troubled by a telepathic conversation. After all, she spoke to voices in her head all the time.
But this voice was something else, something foreign that made her skin crawl.
Don’t be afraid. You should be proud that your creation has taken on a life of its own. And proud of your power.
I am. What castle can claim such a reputation or legacy?
Dear Goddess… So it was the castle. The castle was speaking to her. And the castle had captured two princes and held them captive because it didn’t want the enchantment to end.
You are as clever as I’d hoped. I’ve been waiting for you to come.
“You have?” Calliope walked slowly toward where the princes hung, struggling to think of a way to free them without actually thinking it. The castle’s ability to read minds was no little problem.
I don’t want to be a problem. Please, creator. We should work together, you and I.
Johann made a gagging noise and Calliope’s lips pursed to one side. “I’m not sure that’s going to be possible.”
Of course it is. You want to free Rosamund, yes?
“And the rest of her court, and the men who came to rescue her,” Calliope added, sensing that semantics were going to be important in this transaction. The castle clearly wanted something from her, and she doubted it would be any small favor. She had to make certain that she got what she wanted in return.
You will get everything in return, creator. Haven’t you wanted to live in a world where your sweetest dreams came true?
“I don’t know. I haven’t had many sweet dreams.”
Poor thing. I think you, of all people, deserve to live inside beautiful dreams. As she has.
The light surrounding Rosamund glowed brighter, making the bed where she lay seem like a little piece of heaven on earth.
Calliope’s lips curved in a grim smile. That was what the castle wanted, was it? Another to take Rosamund’s place?
So the enchantment never has to end.
“Except for Rosamund and her people, and these men,” Calliope corrected, walking toward the bed. “It ends for them.”
What did she have to lose by taking Rosamund’s place? A life spent on the farm, lonely but for the animals she tended, slowly growing old and vulnerable to human diseases? The man she loved didn’t love her back and she had few friends and fewer prospects.
But who knew what great love and adventure Rosamund might find out there in the world? Surely she wouldn’t bemoan the loss of one ancestral estate when she could have her freedom.
“You will free everyone else under the present enchantment?” Calliope asked, fingers fluttering restlessly at her sides.
Yes, of course.
“If you don’t keep your promise, the enchantment will fade and you won’t be able to hold me.” Calliope stepped closer to the bed, her heart beating faster. But it was right that she do this, that she make amends for stealing so many years of this innocent girl’s life.
You didn’t steal a thing. She’ll awake the same age as when she went to sleep.
And I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to be living in a time when that hideous bustle she’s wearing is no longer in fashion.
Her enchanted castle was a fashion snob. Lovely.
Calliope wondered what other surprises
she was in for during the next few hundred years as the new sleeping princess of the keep.
It will take longer than that, creator. I will last at least another millennium. I’m well made.
“All right, a millennium then, it makes no difference to me.” Calliope closed her eyes and muttered one last spell before she reached down to take Rosamund’s hand.
What was that? You were casting!
“Merely giving myself the same chance at freedom as Rosamund. Surely that’s fair?”
Well…it wouldn’t be much fun if there weren’t young men coming to visit. But I must insist you spell the dog-gon back to life. I’ve missed him and he’s an excellent protector.
“Dog-gon, half dog, half dragon. Ha ha,” Calliope muttered as she added the dog-gon’s rebirth to the tail end of her spell.
Then, before she had the chance to think twice, she took Rosamund’s hand and pulled her from her bed. The young princess’s eyes flew open, even as Calliope’s grew heavy. She fell onto the soft sheets, her lids staying open long enough to see the princes tumble to the floor and all three royals run for the door before she sank into a close, comfortable darkness.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Calliope
The earth was shaking as Calliope surged into consciousness with a gasp befitting a woman emerging from the sea. She immediately clung to the strong arms that held her, not realizing until he spoke that they belonged to him.
“Hold tight, Calliope. The castle isn’t happy with us right now.”
“Aaron?” She blinked, wondering how long she had been asleep. “You’ve come for me? But I thought—”
“Will you marry me, Calliope?” he asked, seconds before the ground shook again, tossing him onto the mattress beside her.
She squealed as the bed tilted on its axis, sending both her and Aaron crashing into the headboard. “What?” she gasped. “What did you say?”
“I said, will you marry me?” The bed shook again, making him cling to her more tightly. “Good God, woman, just say yes, before the damned castle—”