by Shea, K. M.
“Does anyone know what they wish to speak to us about?” Erick asked, adjusting his rectangular glasses.
“Not a clue,” Nick said.
“My agents haven’t uncovered anything unusual,” Mikk said.
“It’s not going to be pretty, that’s for certain. We’re being summoned for a formal audience with all the bells and whistles,” Rune said, adjusting his circlet. In spite of the “tiaras,” everyone still wore their everyday uniforms in the Arcainian colors of black and gold.
“Erick, any word on a magic user coming to scent that creature out?” Steffen said, nodding his head in the direction of the throne room.
“Funny you should say that. Directly before I was summoned here, I received a note from an enchantress of some renown. She said she would be traveling through Arcainia and would be happy to help so long as we did not require the use of magic,” Erick said. “I left her a message directing her to Brandis. With luck, she should arrive within the week.”
“A week may be too late,” Gerhart groaned, flinging an arm over his eyes. “If I have to listen to her complain another day about our lack of decorum and formality I’m going to die.”
“That’s not something to joke about, Gerhart,” Falk said, his voice soft like velvet but seeped with warning.
“All we need to do is concentrate on getting through today,” Gabrielle said, holding her black and white, male cat in her arms. (Elise didn’t know why she brought the cat, but in the past month it was increasingly rare to see Gabrielle without it.)
“How are you holding up?” Rune asked, slinging an arm across Elise’s shoulders.
“I’m managing,” Elise smiled. Ever since King Henrik beheaded Clotilde’s plan to marry her off, the young queen took great pains to snub, mock, and rebuke Elise. “I don’t see how this will end well, even with the help of an enchantress,” Elise said.
“If we can prove she is using magic, the Veneno Conclave will be forced to step in, Darling,” Falk said, intruding on the conversation without hesitation.
“Next time I leave to fight a monster, you should come with me. You could use the break,” Rune said.
“I can’t. I cannot afford to leave the treasury alone for long. Nick increased security around the vault, but Clotilde still tries to bully her way in,” Elise said.
“It’s a wonder she hasn’t convinced Father to force you to give her permission to enter it,” Rune said.
“Maybe it isn’t,” Falk said. “As manipulative as she may be, Clotilde does not strike me as being especially bright.”
“She’s smart enough to try and squeeze us out of the government system,” Rune said.
“But she goes about it in the most brutish ways. Subtlety is not her gift,” Falk said.
“Sometimes one doesn’t need to be subtle if they can get their way through force,” Elise grimly said.
“Is everyone ready to enter?” Steffen asked. He held Gabrielle’s elbow as she needed both hands to support her unusually large cat.
After hearing a chorus of yeses, Steffen turned to the doorman. “Arthur, we are ready to face the dragon.”
“Good luck to you, Your Majesties,” the doorman said, hastily crossing himself before he swung open a door and announced, “Their majesties Kronprinz Steffen and Prinzessin Gabrielle, Prinz Mikkael, Prinz Nickolas, Prinz Falk, Fürstin Elise, and Prinz Gerhart.”
Elise and her siblings approached the dais that King Henrik and Queen Clotilde’s thrones were placed on.
They were silent, exchanging nervous glances when they saw their father. He was slumped in his chair like an old man. His eyes were vacant, his breathing labored, and he did nothing to acknowledge their entrance.
Queen Clotilde wore her most expensive dress. Her jewelry was a set of sparkling diamonds, and her facial features were drawn and snake like as she smiled magnificently.
“Children,” she said, standing when the door closed. “How good of you to come.”
“For what did you request our presence, My Queen?” Steffen asked.
Clotilde clasped her hands. “You all have been such a pain,” she started. “Again and again, I have tried to push you out. But you all resist. Worse yet, you make him resist,” she said, jerking her head back at King Henrik.
Mikk, Nick, and Rune slide their swords out of their scabbards, holding them warily in front of them.
Gabrielle’s cat hissed, his fur standing on end as he growled at the queen.
“There simply is no other option,” Clotilde said. “I have to kill you.”
Rune sprinted up the stairs, Mikk and Nick on his heels. He raised his sword and leaped at Clotilde as if to chop her when he hit a iridescent surface—much like a translucent egg shell—and was thrown backwards.
Mikk and Nick tried to stab their swords through the protective barrier, but they, too, were thrown like rag dolls.
“So you finally show your true colors?” Erick said, sliding a dagger out of his uniform as Elise and Falk scrambled to check on the fallen trio.
“Hold your tongue, you fool,” Clotilde said. “You will die without honor.”
Gerhart ran for the door. He tried to wrench it open but it wouldn’t budge. “Arthur! Arthur, open the door!” he shouted, pounding on it.
“It’s no use. I have sealed this room. You will not escape,” Clotilde said.
“You won’t get away with this. The people will revolt. It will be obvious you killed us,” Steffen said.
“If I kill you when you are human, yes. But not if I curse you first,” Clotilde said with an evil smile as she slipped a hand into a black silk bag. “A swan will do nicely. I’ve always hated those birds. They are too beautiful and pure. It will be wonderfully ironic, of course, as your family crest is a swan. Maybe I’ll make you all into a cloak.”
Erick tried throwing his dagger. It made the shield of magic Clotilde used to protect herself crack and fizzle, and it lodged in the surface, but it was not able to pass through.
Clotilde pulled something out of the bag and clasped it in her hands before starting the spell. As Clotilde spoke in a deep, eerie voice unlike her own, Rune, Mikk, and Nick recovered and tried to attack again. They hit the magical shield and again bounced off it.
Clotilde ignored them and spoke in a dark, guttural language Elise didn’t recognize.
“Puss, do something,” Gabrielle said.
Steffen unearthed several daggers and threw them at Clotilde. They bounced off the surface of her shield, unlike Erick’s, and fell to the ground with a clatter.
“Arthur!” Gerhart shouted, pounding on the door as dark fog filled the room.
Falk ran up the stairs, making a beeline for King Henrik. “Father,” he shouted when he could get no closer. “Father! Wake up!”
Clotilde’s voice increased in volume until it made the air and floor shake. She held her hands up with a flourish, still clutching something in one fist, and shouted. “Now, I curse you, princes and princesses of Arcainia. I curse you!”
“Gabrielle, hold on!” shouted a voice Elise didn’t recognize.
“But Steffen—,”
“It won’t do him any good if you’re both swans!”
The magic hit Elise and her siblings like a wave of black water. It struck Steffen first, coating his body in black liquid. A black cloud formed around him and started shrinking. Inside the cloud, Steffen yelled. His voice turned wild and the cloud shattered with an explosion of white feathers.
Mikk and Nick were next. They braced each other and tried to stab their swords through the black magic, but it engulfed them. Elise could hear the clang of their swords falling to the ground as they, too, screamed.
Erick held his hand out in front of him and said words Elise suspected were part of the language of magic, but the wave of black filth did not flinch backwards and enveloped him as well.
Falk and Rune were only seconds behind, their screams adding to the cacophony of the air.
A cloud formed around Gabrielle, but it
did not shrink. Something seemed to be pushing it back.
Elise and Gerhart were last. Elise saw the black magic surround Gerhart before her vision was blocked off.
The curse slide across her skin like a snake coiling around her. It pried her mouth open, dripped down her ears and oozed down her throat like tar. Elise choked as she felt the curse tighten around her and fight its way to her bones.
Clotilde was going to win.
All would be lost. Not just her family, but Arcainia as well.
Clotilde, the witch, would ruin it. The servants, her Treasury Department staff, the kind stable hands and the brave soldiers. All would be ruled by a tyrant who was bent on their destruction.
“NO!” Elise shouted. Her rebuke was drowned out by the tarry magic, but after she choked it out, the curse froze.
“NO!” Elise repeated. The curse retreated from her mouth and inner body with enough suddenness to make Elise wretch, but she held it in. “No! I will not accept this!” Elise shouted.
The black magic fled from her. It zoomed back to Clotilde and hit her square in the chest. The woman shrieked and fell backwards, cracking her head on her wooden throne.
Elise stared wide eyed at the flock of white swans who beat their wings and trumpeted before she raised her gaze to the fallen queen, who was tussling with the curse that had fled from Elise.
“Elise, RUN! Now, while she’s distracted,” Gabrielle shouted, wrenching Elise along by the arm. They reached the door and threw themselves against it. Gabrielle narrowly avoided squashing her cat against its surface, but the door flew open.
“Puss, help us get the princes out,” Gabrielle said, dropping her cat.
“Hurry! I don’t think that curse will fight her much longer,” the cat said—the cat said—as he ran behind several swans/princes, hissing and swiping at them with his claws.
“What the—,” Arthur started as Elise shooed the last of the swans out of the throne room.
“Don’t ask. Close the door and keep it shut as long as you can manage, even if Clotilde orders you to open it,” Gabrielle instructed.
“Where do we take them?” Elise asked as they herded the swans down the hallway.
“You’ll have to leave the country. Clotilde won’t rest until you’re all killed,” Gabrielle said when they reached a staircase. “GET A HORSE. NOW!” she shouted to servants at the bottom of the stairs.
“Aren’t you coming with? You won’t be safe either,” Elise said as the swans bumbled their way down the staircase.
Gabrielle stopped at the base of the stairs, and for a moment Elise could see how frightened Gabrielle was.
“I can’t. I promised him,” Gabrielle said, placing a hand over her heart and clenching the fabric of her dress. “I’ll be fine. I’ll have Puss with me.”
“You’re right. You’ll have me with you. I’m going to tan your hide if you ever move out of clawing range again,” Gabrielle’s cat said. (The cat said. Elise suspected she would have to take a serious amount of time to processes this once she and her brothers reached safety.)
“What’s going on?” a servant asked.
“I will explain later. For now we must get these swans out of the castle, before the Queen finds us,” Gabrielle said.
“Right,” several servants said, moving in to help herd the swans to a servant’s exit.
“Elise,” Gabrielle said. “Follow your brothers, and do not let them rest until you have left the country. Go south, if you can, but concern yourself foremost with tracking your brothers.”
“I cannot do this alone. I can hardly keep seven swans safe—,” Elise started.
“Elise,” Gabrielle said, grabbing Elise by the shoulders. “I don’t know how you avoided the curse, but it is abundantly clear that you are the only chance your brothers have. You cannot second guess yourself. You must guard them.”
Elise glanced at her swan brothers. She couldn’t tell them apart. All of them were graceful white birds that were shockingly quiet. Elise didn’t know if Gabrielle was right, but she couldn’t leave her brothers now. Arcainia wouldn’t survive without them, and Elise owed it to the royal family. “Alright,” she said.
Gabrielle spared Elise a weak smile before they hustled out of the servant’s entrance/exit to Brandis. “Steffen,” Gabrielle called, wading through the birds.
Elise didn’t know how she did it, but Gabrielle sought out a very specific bird and held its head.
“Steffen, I don’t know if you understand me, but please remember this. I love you. I love you so much. I’m going to stay here. If I loved you any less, I would come, but I cannot. I will keep our people safe, and I will do my best to make Clotilde’s life miserable. Please be safe. Do not forget me,” Gabrielle begged. Tears fell from her eyes before she awkwardly embraced the large swan.
The swan was still—it was the only swan that was motionless, the others kept flapping their wings and pecking each other.
The castle shook and Gabrielle’s cat ran back to the castle. “Gabrielle,” it called in an impatient voice.
“I know,” Gabrielle said. She paused for a moment in front of Elise. “You may feel like an intruder, Fürstin, but realize this: I am trusting you with the one person I treasure most in this world. Stop forcing yourself to prove your worth, and you will find peace.”
“Gabrielle!”
“Yes,” Gabrielle said, hustling back into the castle. Her cat leaped into her arms and the duo disappeared inside. Literately. When they entered they castle threshold they disappeared like a wisp of smoke.
“Consider it later,” Elise reminded herself as a servant pulled a horse up to the flock of swans. When Elise saw the horse, she swore several times, making her assistant swan keepers/servants stared wide eyed at her.
It was Falk’s horse, a spirited beast that shied easily and ran like hellhounds chased him on his mild days.
Something deep in the castle roared. “No other choice,” Elise grimly said, throwing herself into the saddle.
The horse shied, but Elise clamped herself to its back like a flea. “Go, go, fly, brothers!” Elise urged as the horse ran straight into the swan flock.
The swans beat their wings and clumsily took flight. They fought their way into the air, crashing into each other like drunken sailors.
Elise heeled Falk’s horse, and the beast took off, careening out of Castle Brandis and entering the city. “Look out!” Elise shouted as they galloped down city streets.
Men, women, and children leaped out of the way, and Elise didn’t try to slow the horse down. Instead, she cast nervous glances to the sky, watching for the flock of swans.
They left the capital, bearing west.
When Elise cleared the gates, she loosened the reins. Falk’s horse threw himself into a frenzied gallop. Elise tangled one hand in his mane and clamped onto the saddle with her other hand.
The land to the west of Brandis was, mercifully, free of trees. It made it easier to watch her brothers, but it also made Elise an open target.
After ten minutes of flying, several of the white swans started to sink. Their flight was labored, and they strained their graceful necks forward when they pumped their wings.
Falk’s horse had worked up a sweat, so Elise pulled him back into a trot. They lagged behind the swans, which flew closer and closer to the ground.
When the first swan crash-landed—rolling when he failed to slow down before touching the ground—Elise slide off the horse’s back and led him up to the flock as the rest of the swans tried landing, having roughly the same amount of success as the first swan.
“We have to keep moving. If you can’t fly, you have to walk,” Elise said, nudging the swans forward.
The swans walked more gracefully than they flew, although the pace left much to be desired. They almost glided when they walked, their backs and shoulders barely moving up and down.
“Faster than this, brothers. Please, if you can understand me, walk faster,” Elise said.
They
didn’t walk faster.
Elise clamped down on the knot in her throat and the tears stinging her eyes. “Come on, birds,” Elise said as she used herself and the horse to force the swans to march forward.
Their black webbed feet padded the ground as they picked up their pace, occasionally stopping to hiss at Elise as she rushed them.
After five to ten minutes of waddling, Elise glanced back at Castle Brandis.
A black cloud hung around the tallest tower of the palace. There were flashes of red light that occasionally lit up the innards of the cloud.
“Fly, brothers. FLY,” Elise shouted, throwing herself on Falk’s horse before directing the animal to plow through the flock.
The birds resentfully took to the air, hissing and clicking at Elise as they took off, clumsily pumping their wings to gain altitude.
Elise again clamped onto the horse, her muscles protesting with the stiffness and tension she held the position in. She risked a glance over her shoulder and wished she hadn’t. The cloud left Castle Brandis and was creeping in their direction. Instead of floating like a normal cloud, the black fog bobbed like a cork on rough waters. It rolled downwards before winding up, cresting like an ocean wave.
A forest was within sight. If Elise could reach it, with her brothers, before the cloud found them they might have a chance.
“Don’t!” Elise shouted when one of the birds started to sink.
The swan hastily pumped its wings, knocking into one of the other swans.
Elise’s foster brothers squabbled in the air as Elise and the horse thundered along the ground.
The cloud was maybe two to three stone throws away when Elise and the swans reached the edge of the forest.
The swans dropped like rocks, shaking dust from their white feathers when they stood and beat their wings.
“Keep going in!” Elise said, sliding off her mount’s back. The horse threw his head and shied, the whites of his eyes showing when he got a look at the incoming cloud.
“Curse you, Falk, and your competitive streak,” Elise said, wincing when the reins burned her fingers as the horse reared. Elise ground her teeth and clung to the reins, pulling the horse forward. He snorted and jumped ahead, making the swans hurry down the dirt road that plowed through the forest.