Brutal Curse

by Casey Bond

  “Mother,” he urged, intoning boredom, his rich voice slithering down the walls and pebbling my skin. “Is the game ever to start?”

  Coeur stepped forward until her gown pressed against my shins. “Let the game begin.”

  The floor opened up beneath my feet. I had just enough time to glance at Carden before falling into the dark hole, just in time to see the tile disappear beneath him. His scream filled the dark void, the light from the throne room growing dimmer with each passing second. The wind whipped around me as I sliced through it, falling down…

  down…

  down…

  I squeezed my eyes against the wind. She won’t kill us yet, I repeated to myself over and over. The wind tore at my clothes, hair, skin, and bones, and then I was floating instead of plummeting. I saw solid earth below me, and moments later I landed gently with my feet on the ground and soft dirt beneath my feet. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. “Carden?”

  “Over here.”

  We found each other. “Are you okay?” he asked, his hands brushing down my arms.

  “I’m good. You?”

  He snorted. “That was terrifying.” His hands shook as he raked them through his hair and blew out a tense breath. We both stared up at the pale light above us. It seemed so far away.

  “Is that the throne room?”

  “I think so,” he said.

  “How can they see us? It’s so far away.”

  “The fae have magic I can’t even begin to wrap my head around,” he admitted. Carden turned in a circle, scanning the darkness around us.

  “Do you see anything?”

  “Not yet, but we weren’t dropped into a hole for no reason.”

  “We need something to defend ourselves with,” I whispered.

  A stone table appeared in front of us with a strange pair of metal boots. Beside the boots was a piece of parchment. I picked it up and read:

  Arabella,

  Both shoes and manners are required in my court, it read. My toes curled involuntarily. If you would like to live to see it again, you will need these.

  A crown appeared beside the boots. Silver with an intricate pattern, it, too, had a piece of parchment. Carden picked up the sliver of paper and held it up.

  Princes wear crowns. Only a weak man would refuse to fight for what is rightfully his. Today, you shall prove your strength, prince of humans.

  Carden’s lips thinned as his fingertips ran over the crown’s surface.

  “You said you left the Seven Kingdoms because leaving was easier than staying,” I stated slowly. “Do you still believe that?”

  His dark eyes flashed. “Yes, I do.” He took the crown and placed it on his head, looking exactly how I imagined he would. And just as I pictured, the metal circling his head changed him somehow. He wasn’t just a handsome boy with mud on his clothes and sweat on his too-long hair. The crown made him stand taller, bolder. It made his presence larger. If the metal itself didn’t signify his importance, his stature would do it alone.

  “Looks like you have a new pair of boots,” Carden observed.

  “Why didn’t she give you a pair?”

  He raised his toes. “I’m not sure.”

  I put the boots on the ground and one by one, slid my feet into them. They tightened on my feet, not painfully so, but I’d never felt anything quite like it. When I tried to pull one off, I realized it was snug… too snug. “They’re stuck.”

  Carden tugged at his crown. It was stuck, too. He gripped it tight and pulled until the veins in his arms popped and his face turned red. He growled in defeat as he let go, muttering a curse.

  We knew too-tight boots and an affixed crown weren’t the worst things the Queen had in store for us. This was merely day one; the mildest inconvenience of them all, and the day had just begun.

  Toadstools popped up from the ground all around us and darted off in a line that pointed away from the table and farther into the darkness. “I guess we go this way,” I suggested.

  “Or we run in the opposite direction,” Carden muttered as we set off following the toadstool trail. I stomped as many as I could in the process, just in case Coeur liked them.

  The fungi led to a sparse area of grass that began to thicken the farther into it we stepped. Soon, the blades were as high as our waists and the earth became harder. I led the way so Carden could step on what my boots bent down. Without shoes, he couldn’t trek very quickly through this terrain.

  The farther we walked, the brighter the world became. An enormous sun burned in the pale blue sky and the toadstools dried and wilted, steaming beneath its rays. We walked for what felt like hours in the sweltering heat. Sweat poured down my face, dripping from my chin and jaw. My clothes were damp and Carden’s were soaked through. Sweat was dripping into his eyes when he finally asked me to stop, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his brow. Muscles rippled beneath the skin of his stomach.

  As far as I could see there was nothing but tall grass, rippling in the heat, boiling along with us. “See anything?” he asked, tearing a thin ribbon of fabric from his shirt. I turned in a circle, hoping for something to arise from the grassland, or for the sun to set. It didn’t appear to have even moved from its perch directly above us.

  Carden sank to the ground and bound his feet with the torn fabric, blood soaking through the cloth before he could tie the ends. “I’m sorry,” I offered.

  “I’m fine,” he gritted, tearing a second ribbon and wrapping his other foot.

  I joined him on the ground. “I’d offer you my boots if I could.”

  “You shouldn’t. You don’t even know me.”

  “I know I don’t like to see your feet bloody,” I snapped.

  “Well I don’t like to see you sweaty and dirty and miserable,” he fired back. “I hate that you’re in this mess, and I hate that it’s because of me.”

  “Do you seriously believe she chose you just because you followed that fool onto her land?”

  Carden scrubbed his hands down his face. “No, but I don’t understand her motives at all.”

  “I don’t understand anything here,” I agreed. “She’s just so angry. It’s like she’s trying to get revenge or something. She said she had to teach you a lesson.”

  He winced. “That part is my fault. I insulted her a little.”

  I sat up straighter. “A little?”

  “I would consider it a little. Apparently, to her it was a lot.”

  Cocking my head to the side, I grinned at him. “What did you say to her?”

  “I called her a beast,” he admitted, wiping his face with his shirt again.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “She doesn’t appreciate honesty, then.”

  “She’s watching, you know,” he warned, pointing up at the sky.

  “Let her watch,” I fumed. “Let them all watch. What else can she do to us that she hasn’t already planned for our last days on this earth?”

  I leaned back on my arms and crossed my legs in front of me. The metal boots gleamed and heated in the sun, scraping together with the tiniest movement and shift. “If she’s going to scorch us to death, I think we should enjoy the sun as we go.”

  He chuckled, positioning himself to match me. “Sounds perfect to me.”

  A rustle came from the grass behind us and all the warm feelings that had blossomed for that small moment evaporated and were replaced with something primal, something that wanted to live and was willing to die trying to do just that.

  “Get behind me,” Carden growled, crouched with hands extended.

  “What if it’s just a bunny?” I teased, hoping to God it was exactly that. The dropping feeling in my stomach reminded me that bunnies in a faery forest were dangerous as wolves.

  “If that’s a bunny, it’s a damn big one.”

  He wasn’
t helping matters.

  “You don’t talk like a prince. You talk like a sailor,” I observed dryly.

  He winked at me. “So do you.”

  My father was a sailor, once upon a time. But I held the words in my mouth, along with my breath, as the blades of grass parted just in front of us.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ARABELLA

  It wasn’t a bunny. But surprisingly, despite the trouble O’Hare had caused, I wished it was.

  Emerging from the grass was an enormous spotted cat, sleek and lithe with a thick tail that stood out behind him like the rudder on a boat. The cat’s eyes fastened on me and he released six rumbling grunts, like he was panting deeply. A tree sprang up from the ground beside us and the cat jumped up, shredding the trunk with its claws until the tree came to rest. The cat lazily stretched out over the lowest branch, tail twitching back and forth.

  And then… he spoke.

  Carden and I both took a step back.

  “It is time for you to make a decision,” the cat purred. “Walk north, and you will find Arabella’s mother. Walk south, and you’ll find Carden’s brother.”

  “Find them?” Carden asked tentatively. “I know where my brother is.”

  “Do you?” the great cat questioned. “There is only one way to know for sure.”

  “How will we know it’s not an illusion?”

  “You’ll know in your bones,” the cat answered before yawning. His teeth were enormous and sharp. My head would fit easily in his mouth.

  And the voice was eerily familiar. No doubt he was fae.

  All at once, he was gone. In the single moment he was there, the sun moved across the sky and began to sink toward the west. I pointed to the north and south. “She’s trying to divide us,” I warned. “She knows you want to see your brother, and she knows I want to know where my mother is.”

  “If she divides us, she wins,” he remarked softly. “As much as I’d like to see him, I know he wouldn’t feel the same. Besides, I know he’s in Tierney. Do you want to see your mother?”

  “More than anything,” I admitted. She left us years ago, and I wanted to know why. Why didn’t she take us with her? Where did she go? Was her life as much a struggle as ours was?

  “Then we’ll go north,” Carden declared, still looking toward the south.

  “Are you sure?”

  I hated to be selfish, but this might be my only chance to know what became of her. At least he knew his brother was alive and well, lying in a comfortable bed each night, a fine crown resting upon his head. I had no idea what my mother’s life was like.

  “I’m sure.” He strode toward the north, glancing up at the tree limb again. “You trample the grass and I’ll watch our backs. I don’t trust the leopard.”

  “Leopard,” I repeated, tasting the word. I’d never seen one before. Never heard of something so beautiful and deadly.

  “Not that it was an actual leopard. Those don’t exist anymore,” he added.

  “But the fae do,” I mumbled.

  “Unfortunately.”

  The grass receded around us until it was just above our ankles, enabling Carden to walk easier. I didn’t have to march ahead in my heavy boots, bending down the thick blades. We took a deep breath as evening began to fall around us. The sky was painted with bright orange, pink, and gold, all so vivid they didn’t look real. I had to remind myself that none of this was.

  We found ourselves walking down a wide, cobbled road. Sea birds floated on warm breezes overhead, and from the earth on either side of the road sprang an assortment of houses. Some were modest, while others were grand. Children chased each other in the yard of one home, while at another, husband and wife rocked on their porches. The houses were painted white and blue and pink. The scents of stew and fresh bread made my stomach turn somersaults.

  The road came to an end at a large home that was markedly different than the rest; larger and built of sturdier stuff. Great wooden beams held up a balcony on the second floor, and on that balcony, a door stood open. Pale curtains fluttered outside, twisting in the same salted wind that ran its fingers through my hair and Carden’s.

  She stood there, hands braced along the railing, calling out to two children who played in the yard to the right. I hadn’t even noticed them, but there was no denying it was her. She told them it was time for supper and to come in and wash up. She was their mother, too. Except, she wanted these children. They weren’t disposable.

  “You look like her,” Carden remarked gently.

  “I know.”

  “This may not be real, Arabella.”

  “It is.” I didn’t know how I knew, but I knew it all the same, all the way to my marrow. She left us and took everything she could, as if she were running away from the devil himself. And maybe she had been. Look at what my father became. What was he like before he became a shriveled, fumbling version of himself?

  The children dusted their hands off on their pants and ran inside, no more than six and eight.

  She took everything she could carry and made a new life for herself. With a new home. A new husband. She bore him new children, forgetting the old.

  The woman’s hands tightened on the railing as she caught sight of me. She startled when a tall man hugged her waist from behind and kissed the side of her head. And as he held her and she stared at me, her eyes begged me not to take another step. Not to ruin her perfect lie of a life.

  In my periphery, I could see Carden watching me. I fought the lump in my throat and the tears that stung my eyes, hoping he didn’t see how weak I was. I curled my hands around my body to keep from wrapping them around his neck. Because I didn’t want him to pity me, even for a second.

  “We should go,” he suggested.

  “Go where? South? Do you want to see your brother now?”

  Lightning bugs lit up the grasses around us, blinking gently on and off. “The game is supposed to end at dusk.”

  “Well, it hasn’t. But you’re right. I’ve seen enough.”

  As we walked away, the wind kicked up. The beauty of the sunset sky was swallowed by roiling, angry clouds. Droplets of rain stung our skin as they fell. I couldn’t help but wonder if the tempest was somehow part of me. I also couldn’t help but hope that the mother who was supposed to love and protect me above everything else would drown in the rains that poured mercilessly down from my sky.

  CARDEN

  As the storm rolled over us, an eerie green light filled the atmosphere. It wasn’t as bright as daylight, but was brighter than the full moon. Driving rain began to pour, blurring the houses.

  The road bled away beneath our feet, the cobblestones melting and running into a river of swirling paint and rock and earth. The rain disintegrated it all. “It wasn’t real,” I proclaimed over the thunder. Rain sluiced down Arabella’s cheeks. Her eyelashes parted into thick clumps. She didn’t reply. “We’re still playing the game, Arabella. Listen to me,” I begged, grabbing her elbows and pulling her tight. But Arabella stared numbly ahead as if nothing was in front of her at all.

  This was how Coeur would break her.

  I shook her, and when she didn’t respond, I shook her again, harder. Her teeth rattled, but it woke her out of whatever stupor she was in. “It wasn’t real!” I yelled to make sure she heard it.

  She tore her arms out of my hands. “You keep saying that, but I’m telling you it was. Let’s head south and you can see how real it is,” she bit back.

  The storm clouds cleared and it almost looked like daytime, but the shadows were strange. I’d seen an eclipse once. The greenish tint to the land had spooked the horses in the stables and our dogs whimpered at the unnatural sight. This was the same unearthly glow… not day and not night, but something in between that didn’t fit together.

  The soil beneath our feet dried until it was nothing but brittle, flaked,
crusty pieces of curled clay that bit at my bloody feet. Then the ground began to rumble and Arabella screamed as she pulled me backward with her. When the earth gave way, a chasm stretched as far to the east and west as I could see, the gaping fissure too wide to cross; too deep to scale down or even see what lay at the bottom. Too dark to imagine what Coeur hid in the darkness below.

  From behind came a great roar—not from a leopard—but from a torrent of water pouring down from snow-capped mountains that stretched into misty clouded heavens… mountains that weren’t there moments ago. The muddy water rushed straight toward us, filled with debris that would break our bodies if the impact didn’t first. We both began to run, but Coeur must have changed her plans and wanted us to die sooner rather than later, because with every step, the weight of my crown grew heavier until my footsteps stamped prints into the dried earth.

  Arabella cried out, “You have to leave me behind.”

  I realized her boots had become too heavy for her to lift. She cried, swiping at her eyes, begging for me to go and save myself. But that was the deal. There was no saving myself. It was a choice given to me: die with Arabella, or die at the hands of the Queen.

  I would stand with this girl until my last breath. I grabbed her hand. “Together.”

  She brought in a shuddering breath. “Together.”

  For a brief second, I saw myself in the strip of mirror around her neck. A man with a crown, but powerless to help his heartmate.

  The water tore over the land, taking deeply rooted trees with it. It thundered toward us and as the ground shook, Arabella and I locked eyes on one another. I pulled her in close and she fisted the back of my shirt, both of us bracing for the hit.

  Her back rose and fell rapidly under my hand and I almost cried when she closed her eyes and laid her head against my chest. All I could think of was how damn sorry I was.

  I closed my eyes, holding her close and breathing in her scent for the last time.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CARDEN

  The earth shook beneath us, but the roaring noise changed. I opened my eyes to see Arabella glancing around. We were in the throne room surrounded by cheering fae. The clock began to chime loudly, drowning out the din of noise in the room. Arabella and I stood still as the clock chimed eight times. Queen Coeur was perched on her throne.