by Nadia Lee
"Oh."
"But until the curse is broken, I'm not in love with her. If you remember the story, she betrays me to her sisters."
Melinda nodded, but she couldn't help but think that Edward must feel something for Beauty if he forgave her and still fell in love with her at the end. And the knowledge squeezed her heart in a way that made it hard to breathe.
"Don't push me away," he murmured, running his lips over her jaw line.
She shivered. Edward might just give in to temptation, so she had to be strong for both of them. "Will you remember me after it's over? After we get Beauty and you return to your story?"
He stopped the delicate exploration of her face. "I don't know. No fairy tale prince has ever had to leave the Fairy Tale World for his happy ending."
"Would you want to?"
"Oh Melinda, Melinda." His warm forehead rested against hers. "You are a remarkable woman, strong and resourceful. Of course, I'd love to remember you, even if we have to part at the end and even if it makes my heart grieve over what I have lost." He drew back, looked into her eyes. "I shall remember you for eternity."
She swallowed. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me," she whispered.
"The men of your world are fools." He kissed her. "Promise me you'll never give up on your happily ever after, no matter what happens on this quest. Promise me."
"I prom--"
Suddenly her cell phone rang, and they both started at the sound. She stared at it. The caller ID said "Witch". With a shaking hand, she flipped it open. "Hello?"
"Lightfoot," came a lilting female voice. It was pretty good for a witch.
"Yes?" To Edward she mouthed, It's the Evil Witch.
Edward immediately jumped to his feet, looking alert. Melinda raised a hand to stop him from snatching the phone from her. She didn't trust the dark glower on his face. He might just take out his frustration out on the hapless device.
"I have Beauty." There was a short pause. "If you want her back, send that arrogant and foolish nephew of mine alone to the Tudor House at half past eleven tonight. Alone."
"You said that," Melinda said.
The Evil Witch went on as of Melinda hadn't spoken. "If he does not come alone," she continued, "I shall feed Beauty to the guard dog I found outside."
"Um, could we just talk about this like rational adul--"
The Evil Witch hung up.
"What did she want?" Edward said when Melinda closed her phone.
"She wants you alone in the Tudor House."
"I see."
"I don't think you should go. It's too dangerous, and you never know what she's going to do."
"Yet if I do not, Beauty will die."
Melinda nodded.
"And so I must."
"I'll go with you," Melinda said. "I don't trust her, and you may need help. Just in case."
He looked like he would argue.
"Please."
"No," he said finally. "It is too dangerous. I cannot bear the thought of you getting hurt. You will stay behind."
"Oh I will, will I?" She crossed her arms. "And how exactly are you going to get there without me?"
He gave her a pained look. "Very well. You may transport me in your flatulent 'Charger'. But that is all. Once I am safely at the Bluebeard King's house, you will return home like a good girl and wait."
VII. In Which Our Hero Makes an Impossible Choice
Melinda drove Edward to Tudor Land. The sky opened up about halfway to the theme park, and rain poured down. It fell in great washes on the windshield; lightning streaked the black horizon above, followed by cracking thunder. Melinda found herself tense and leaning forward, trying to see the road more than just a few feet in front of her.
"You know...it really would be a good idea for you to have some backup," she said again as she finally found the exit to Tudor Land.
"No."
"I can help you."
"No." He turned to Melinda. "I am quite serious. You must return to your house. If you are here, I will be too distracted."
"But you can't go back to the Fairy Tale World without me in the room."
"I will use your talking device to summon you, never fear."
"But you've never used one before, Edward. How are you going to call me?"
"If my aunt did it, so can I."
"Your aunt is magic."
"I ca--ah. So she is. Very well, forego all of this futile arguing and teach me how to do it."
She sighed and gave him a short course in Telephone 101. Fortunately, Edward was a quick study and had no problem memorizing her number. When they reached the parking lot he got out of the car and stood in the rain. The hood she had made for him grew wet and limp in his hand as it took the water in greedily. There hadn't been any fabric, so she'd used an old Disney towel.
Thank you. I am honored by this favor, Melinda. I will wear it with pride.
Melinda tightened her lips. Didn't he realize this was her fight too? It was her fault the Evil Witch had gotten out. But Edward simply wouldn't change his mind. The man was stubbornness personified.
Nobility be damned, she thought, reasonableness is the better virtue. But she knew she was being uncharitable because she was nervous. If everything went well, this night was it for the two of them. Everyone would go back to the Fairy Tale World, Edward would get Beauty, and Melinda would return to the real world alone.
Edward watched as she backed out of the parking lot. She saw him put his hood on in the rearview mirror. The picture of a dancing Cinderella covered most of his face, and he stared out through holes over the fairy tale heroine's breasts. Melinda closed her eyes briefly. Sewing simply wasn't one of her talents. Still, even with the silly hood, he was the handsomest and the most wonderful fairy tale prince she'd ever seen in her entire life. And she'd die before she deserted him. His concern for her was touching, and she knew he meant well. But she couldn't let him face the Evil Witch alone when she probably had a huge group of psychotic minions waiting to ambush him.
Her mind made up, she drove away for about five minutes, then made a U-turn.
The parking lot was empty when she came back to it. Melinda opened her door and stepped into a puddle. Her sneaker soaked through instantly. Hopefully it wasn't an omen.
Don't come back unless you have tickets.
George the Security Guard's warning flashed in her mind. She glanced around, just in case the guards were watching, but the rain obscured everything. Well, if she couldn't see them, they probably couldn't see her either. She made straight for the fence and got ready to climb.
Just as she closed her hands on the bars there was a shimmering in the air around her. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. She tried to get air into her lungs to cry for help but couldn't utter a sound. Her vision blurred, and the world tilted dangerously.
The last thing she saw as she fell was Anne Boleyn's ghostly face.
*** *** ***
Edward had spent several minutes reconnoitering the Tudor House, but there was nothing to be seen from the outside, especially in the rain. He decided on a direct approach and went to the front door. It opened at the slightest pressure.
"Don't worry, Nephew," came a silken voice. "It would've been inexcusably rude of me to leave the house locked after inviting you over."
He walked inside. "Aunt."
The Evil Witch was a dainty woman who had aged extremely well. She sported long straight black hair and an old English dress. "Do you like it?" Picking up the skirt, she posed this way and that, showing it off. "Jane gave it to me." She gestured at a life-size queen mannequin, naked now except for a hood over its head that made it look more indecent than it would have without it. "We have similar proportions."
"I congratulate you," he said. "You look exquisite in a queen's dress."
"You're such a good boy." The Evil Witch rose into the air until she stood on the second floor balcony overlooking the foyer.
Nicely staged, Edward thought. She was beyond his r
each for the moment. But he had learned some things in his time as a beast, and there were thick drapes along the walls that could be climbed in a trice. "Where is Beauty?" he said. No fewer than four sections of the balcony also had sturdy-looking hangings depending from them. His aunt loved theatrics; they might just prove to be her downfall.
"Don't be rude," she said. "Didn't your mother teach you better manners?" She pursed her lips, then snapped her fingers with a little mock flourish. "Oh that's right. My sister doesn't teach her children anything. She allows them to say whatever comes into their nit-infested little heads and run like savage beasts."
"If that's supposed to hurt my feelings, you're losing your touch."
"Not at all." She leaned over the balcony rail. "My, you're looking remarkably hairless. You'd think the curse was broken. I suppose my sister forgot about the Seventeenth Neverland Magical Accord?" She laughed, the sound as musical as a requiem mass. "And why are you wearing that ridiculous hood?"
"It is milady's favor."
"A favor, is it? Aren't those normally made of silk?"
Edward folded his arms. He knew that his aunt would keep up her petty insults for as long as he was willing to play along. So now he stayed silent.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" When he refused to answer, she said, "Oh all right. Be a spoilsport. I suppose you want Beauty back."
Now they were getting somewhere. "Yes."
"Never!" Her face hardened so that it looked like porcelain, and a vein stood out on her forehead. "For once, I hold all the cards! My sanctimonious sister underestimated me. I watched Lightfoot come in and out of the world for months before those idiotic police caught on. Did they notice that the division between our worlds weakens briefly whenever she trespasses? No! Only I noticed!
"I gambled by taking Beauty, and here I am. I shall have it all, Edward, and you can't stop me. You're too selfish to stop me. You've always chosen whatever was most expedient. After all, isn't that why you chose to have your happily ever after with Beauty? Isn't it convenient that she is not only beautiful but gives you her love as well?" She drew back, somehow managing to seem taller and more imposing than she really was. "Well I'm going to make you choose between two mutually exclusive expediencies, my dear. As your mother would say, it should help build character!"
This was worse than Edward had ever seen her. "What have you done?"
His aunt abruptly calmed again. "Oh, nothing your mother wouldn't do, if she would stop being no priggish."
She waved her hands. A black velvet hanging on the right side of the room went up. Edward saw Beauty kneeling, gagged and bound, a blindfold covering her eyes. She was shaking. The executioner from the morning stood behind her with a sword ready. Time seemed to freeze, and small details jumped out. The executioner's knee had been repaired. Beauty's hair was up off her neck.
"Now isn't that a lovely tableau?" his aunt said. "I heard this morning that this was how Queen Anne was executed, and I thought Beauty might like a queen's death, even if she never got to marry you."
Edward's hands clenched into fists. He felt sick with anger. "Aunt, you go too far!"
She batted her eyelashes. "Do I?"
"Leave her out of this. Your quarrel is with me. You're still upset I called you Auntie Beet."
"Oh, is that what you think?" The Evil Witch's shrill laugh scraped over his nerves like sandpaper. "I'm not upset, my darling. I'm livid. Beets are the most grotesque, objectionable vegetables in the world. They're more reviled than mushy, overcooked brussel sprouts. You weren't just mocking a bad dye job. You were calling me smelly and disgusting!"
"By all the gods, I was nine! This is no longer funny."
"For once you're perfectly correct. It is most definitely not funny. So we're going to make it serious." She snapped her fingers, and the hood Melinda had made for him flew up into her hand. "Now you look more like a real prince on a quest."
"Return that!" He took a step forward, then stopped as his aunt pointed an imperious finger directly at him.
"I wouldn't move if I were you! My executioner will chop Beauty's head off if you leave the white of the Tudor Rose." She gestured at another curtain on the opposite side of the room, which also went up.
Edward's heart skipped a beat. "Melinda!"
Another executioner pushed her down, and she knelt, also bound, blindfolded and gagged. Her head rested on a chopping block and the executioner stood with his ax ready.
"Catherine -- Henry's fifth wife Catherine, not that dull first one from Spain -- was executed in this manner." His aunt wrinkled her nose. "Lightfoot is no royalty either, but I thought I would be generous. Without her, I wouldn't have this chance to strike at my dear sister."
"What do you want?" Edward said.
"What do I want, my dear? Isn't it obvious by now? I want you to choose."
His insides clenched and he had to remind himself to breathe. "There will be no choosing."
"Oh, but there will. I'm going to give you just enough time to save one, but not the other."
"No!"
"You can choose your happy ending and save Beauty. Ah, but if you do you won't be able to return to your story since Lightfoot will be dead. But then if you save Lightfoot, you can't break your curse." The Evil Witch pursed her lips. "I do so love a good dilemma."
Edward had always known his aunt to be wicked, but now he could see that she had passed into dementia. It was as if this vile world had corrupted her further, and nothing was left inside except some twisted desire to see people suffer. The fact that Melinda managed to remain untouched by her negative world -- a place that didn't believe in happy endings -- made her so much the more special.
And that put him in a horrible quandary.
He wanted his happy ending with so much force it made him ache. The only thing that could stop him from reverting back to his bestial form forever was Beauty's love. But how could he ever respect himself if he let Melinda die? Somehow her spirit and intelligence fascinated him more than any fairy tale princess's charms.
Melinda had been struggling and now she managed to spit out the cloth in her mouth. "Edward, get Beauty and leave. Please!" she yelled. She was shaking with fear and shock, but her voice sounded strong.
Edward made his choice.
As he started to move he saw his aunt nod and retreat back into a hidden room. The executioners began to get into position. Edward ran to his left, grabbed a curtain and swarmed up it. The ax mannequin raised his arms high.
Edward slammed his good shoulder into the executioner. He fell, the blade of his ax burying itself in the block an inch away from Melinda's head. Edward pulled her up and held her as if she was the most precious treasure in the world. He untied her and tore the blindfold from her eyes.
"Oh, Edward, what have you done? You should've helped Beauty," she said, sobbing. "Now you'll never have your happy ending."
"Shhh." He wiped away her tears. "Dearest Melinda, I had to," he murmured. "How can I be happy if you are killed?"
"But..." Suddenly she stiffened. "Oh my God," she whispered, but her gaze wasn't on him. She was looking at something on the other side.
Beauty.
"Melinda, don't." He blocked her view with his body, unwilling to let her see the horror of the Evil Witch's deeds.
"Wait, Edward, look!"
He turned around, dreading what he would find.
There was no blood, no head rolling on the scaffold. The executioner had cut the rope around Beauty's wrists, and she was standing, her blindfold gone. She stared at Edward and Melinda, her mouth slightly parted.
Somewhere, a grandfather clock began to chime.
VIII. In Which the Beast Is Doubly Cursed
Beauty's vivid blue gaze pierced Melinda like a crucifixion nail. For once, Edward seemed frozen and indecisive as well.
You cannot allow Beauty to see your true form while you are in Miss Lightfoot's world. If she does, the Evil Witch can change the conditions required to break her curse.
The chime rang exactly twelve times, and then a deafening silence stretched throughout the room. Melinda put her hand on Edward's arm as fairy dust gathered and glowed around him.
Seismic changes started to take place under her palm. His skin rippled and erupted as fur burst out of it. The beautiful golden curls on his head lengthened and became a mane. His shirt stretched, then ripped completely apart as Edward's shoulders and back expanded. The bones of his face, so noble and fine, buckled and elongated into something more feral. He made an agonized keening sound as the metamorphosis gripped him and threw him back to what he used to be.
Beauty pointed at him and shrieked, "Monster!" She began to scream.
Oh for God's sake! "Be quiet!" Melinda yelled. It was a pity the executioner hadn't left the fairy tale heroine gagged.
Beauty kept screaming. Melinda tried to block it out and put a hand on Edward's hunched back. It was vibrating like an engine. "Edward, can you hear me?"
Nodding, he groaned. "I had forgotten how much the change hurt." His voice had become guttural and it was harder to understand him.
"Can you move at all? We have to find the Evil Witch. She's got to be somewhere around here."
"She retreated off the balcony." He rose to his feet, his breathing a labored pant. "Let us go."
"What should we do about her?" Melinda said, pointing at Beauty.
"We have to bring her. She must be in the room when you tap your time device."
"Okay."
Edward took Melinda's hand, beastly claws as hard as ivory but the pads below them soft, and they started to move along the railed path, past the second-level balcony. The heavy velvet hangings behind Beauty fluttered, and a petite woman appeared with her arms spread out dramatically.
"Tada!" She grabbed Beauty by the hair and yanked her backward hard.
Melinda was stunned. She'd been unable to see the Evil Witch before because of the blindfold. In all the illustrations, the Evil Witch was shown as a disgusting old hag. It was the farthest thing from reality. Glossy black hair framed a delicate heart-shaped face, and a pair of wide green eyes shone bright under the yellowish lights. A Tudor-style dress with a tight corset and ornate petticoats accentuated her slim body. If Melinda hadn't known better, she would've thought the Evil Witch perfect for playing the role of an ingénue in old Hollywood films.