Black Forest: Kingdoms Fall (Black Forest Trilogy)

by LaShea, Riley

  As far from the chaotic toss-about of the dwarves' loft as it could be, the bed was crafted of pure luxury, from the detailed dark cherry wood to the perfectly-stitched down pillows upon which the queen rested her head. While those in her kingdom passed difficult nights on whatever spot on Earth fate granted them, Queen Ino always slept well. Until the past few days, when even luxury brought no respite.

  When the queen was awake, she watched the unsympathetic weather bear down upon the windows. When she was asleep, she was met with visions of three young women, Snow White and the two strangers, who were not dismissive, but gracious to her, each mouth adorned with an inviting smile. They would wave to her, welcoming her in, and the queen would accept their invitation, waiting until each back was turned and slitting three perfect throats, waking only when the blood reached her knees.

  "She has not moved in days," a female voice whispered in response to an inquiry the queen did not hear. She sounded worried, the unidentified servant, and, a moment later, the knocking that came at the chamber door was rapid with concern.

  "Darling?" King Kardon's voice carried through the wood surface, and Queen Ino closed her eyes against its call. "Are you well?"

  She knew she must get up. Even as stepmother, they would give her time, but it made no sense for her to mourn beyond the king, not when she had made a well-known habit of keeping Snow White at a distance, when she had always taken pride in her ability to remain above common human emotions. If she crumbled, it would reveal much. People might actually come to care for her. Then, who knew what would happen?

  Desperate to ward off any impending emotion, Queen Ino tossed back the covers and pushed herself to the edge of the bed. Room spinning before her, she clenched her eyes tightly shut and reached out for the headboard, her failure to take good care seizing her. Effects finally subsiding to a manageable degree, the queen rose unsteadily to her feet and went to the mirror in the corner. Lacking powers, the glass reflected only what it saw, and the queen had never been so pleased with its inability to see beyond what stood before it.

  Weight had fallen off of her in drastic measure, her cheeks showing gaunt and sallow in the glass, which only served to highlight the unsightly dark circles beneath each eye. Hair and lips dry and dull, she could tell even beneath the heavy fabric of her sleeping gown that her normally voluptuous body bordered on a very unattractive emaciation, like the starving poor who lived in her streets.

  For the first time in her life, her appearance befit her value, and it was a terrible thing to see.

  Retrieving her robe from the cupboard, the queen pulled it hurriedly on, pushing her shoulders back, trying not to notice the way the bones jutted from her too-thin frame. Even if she did not look the part at the moment, she was still the queen, and she would behave as such.

  Going to the door, Queen Ino yanked it open with the force of one who retained more strength than she felt and stared at King Kardon and the servant with greater authority than she truly had.

  "You are out of bed," the king uttered.

  "Obviously," Queen Ino snipped. "And, as far as your question, of course I am well. While the kingdom mourns, I too deserve extra sleep." Ignoring the look of anger, or hurt, that passed over the king's face, Queen Ino turned to the servant. "Tell Lemi to prepare my favorite dress, and I want breakfast, all the things I like."

  "Yes, Ma'am."

  Queen Ino knew the servant believed her back to her right state when she rushed to follow the command at once.

  "As long as you are all right," the king uttered lowly, turning from her, and the queen was left in the silent aftermath of her return to form.

  Watching him walk toward the grand hall, she slipped through the doorway and took the opposite path, the one that led down the front stairs and into the entrance hall, making haste to the storage room and leaning against the solid surface of the door as it shut behind her.

  With a fearful eye upon the mirror, she wanted to flee, not only the room, but the palace, the entire village, to escape back to the mountains, where she could live out her days in solitude and relative peace. Everything she thought she could leave there had followed her. There was no escaping it.

  Pushing off the door, the queen's steps carried her forward until she stood before the mirror, one weak hand reaching up to pull the cover so it fell to the floor at her feet.

  "Mirror, mirror on the wall," she whispered, voice weak from lack of use. "Who in this land is fairest of all?"

  "So much beauty, soft and fair," the mirror returned. "Three whom now I cannot compare. Magic failed, you found two more. Now, My Queen, you are number four."

  Unsurprised by the words, Queen Ino felt nothing.

  "They found her?"

  "Well, My Dear," the mirror seemed pleased. "You did leave quite a trail."

  Hand going to the perfume bottle on the dressing table below the mirror, Queen Ino took gentle hold. Of exquisite detail, the bottle was shaped as a frolicking fawn, crafted for her by the town glassblower, a gift from Snow White on the last holiday.

  "Why can I not have what I want?" The queen looked to the fawn, but did not see it.

  "Why must you want what you cannot have?" the mirror questioned in return, and Queen Ino felt tears upon her face, absent most of her adult life, so common in the last few days. Nothing felt as it had before. Everything felt on the verge of fracture.

  She was breaking.

  "Why must you want what you cannot have?" the mirror asked again, and Queen Ino looked sharply up. "Why must you want what you cannot..."

  "Why must you want what you cannot..."

  "Why..."

  "Why must you want what you cannot..."

  Suddenly, the question was everywhere, echoing around the room, bouncing against walls, both inside and outside the queen's head.

  "Stop." Queen Ino clenched her shoulders against the clamor, her hand tighter upon the blown glass.

  "Why must you want..."

  "Why must you..."

  "Why must you want what you cannot have?"

  "Stop it!" the queen screamed, feeling herself slipping. Into panic. Into madness.

  At her order, the sounds did stop, the room returning at once to its silence, and Queen Ino heard nothing but her own heavy breathing, her hand clutching tighter to the fawn as she felt attacked by something she could not see.

  "Why must you want what you cannot have?" a single voice asked, and Queen Ino looked up to find the face in the mirror was not her own.

  Flinging the bottle at the stranger, both fawn and mirror shattered as she whirled in the explosion of glass and dashed from the room.

  · · ·

  Rapunzel peered into the foliage, trying to find focus against the growing darkness. Sometimes, when her mother left early, light enough remained for her to see Cinderella appear from the trees and rush to the tower's base, as if she could not wait to meet again. When night fell first, the forest turned into a black void, and Rapunzel could see little beyond the window's ledge as she dropped her hair and waited for Cinderella.

  Wind whipping at her cheeks, the breeze carried a surprising chill, as if filled with bad omens. Though she had yet to do so, Rapunzel knew the sorceress could return at any time of night, that she could catch Cinderella at the tower and punish them both. The only rule Rapunzel ever truly had was to allow no visitors other than her mother. Trapped as she was, there was no need for anyone else, her mother said.

  The first tug at her hair relieved the strange feeling of dread, as she knew only Cinderella knew where to find her. At least, Rapunzel was certain of that, until, eyes closed against the uncomfortable cold, she felt the wrong hand upon hers on the windowsill.

  Startling back, Rapunzel was caught by the hook that held her hair as the stranger put his boot on the window's ledge and launched himself inside.

  "Do not be afraid," he said, as Rapunzel quickly unwound her hair and retreated.

  "Who are you?" she asked.

  Taking a step forward for
every step Rapunzel took back, the stranger smiled, teeth glinting like a feral animal's in the candlelight. "Prince Salimen," he replied. "But many have called me Prince Alluring. I have come to woo you."

  "Have you now?" Rapunzel looked to the window, knowing well there was no escape that would not leave her broken or dead.

  "I have written you a poem." He brandished a piece of parchment from his overcoat and cleared his throat.

  "That really will not be necessary," Rapunzel replied.

  "So, you too feel my love?" the prince sighed.

  "Your what?" Rapunzel questioned, voice squeaking from her throat.

  "My love," he repeated. "I have been drawn by your song, and I intend to marry you."

  "Well, as you can see," Rapunzel swept a nervous hand around the tower. "I am stuck all the way up here. But I do wish you luck in your wifely pursuits."

  Trying to return the prince to the window, Rapunzel cried out as he seized her wrist and pulled her against him. "We will be married," he sneered into the side of her face. "It is fated."

  "Rapunzel," Cinderella's voice called out from below.

  "Cinde... ah." Rapunzel's words were lost to the prince's hand around her throat.

  "My wife," he stated. "Forever."

  · · ·

  "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair to me."

  Waking abruptly, Rapunzel's eyes darted about the ceiling, finding the familiar knots of the dwarves' cabin above. The last request real, she was fairly certain, she rolled to the loft's edge to look down at Cinderella.

  "I would gladly," she returned, "but, as you know, it has been clipped. You will have to use the ladder."

  When Cinderella's face changed abruptly at the response, Rapunzel knew, if she could fool anyone, it was not Cinderella.

  "You had that dream again, didn't you?" she asked, and, across the room, Snow White came to attention.

  "Yes," Rapunzel admitted quietly, flopping back to the blankets with a sigh.

  Below the loft, she could hear Cinderella's attempt to get to her, as gems, medallions, and other assorted goods rendered the way a challenge. For days, the great snow had buried Aulis, making it impossible for anyone to travel within the forest, with the exception of the dwarves and their snowshoes, together doing some of their finest work.

  At first, the dwarves maintained their lie, announcing each morning they were "off to the mines." Then, when they came through the door at night, lugging sacks overflowing with stolen goods, they would say things like, "Look what we found buried at the foot of the mountain," or hold up a barrel of ale and say, "Someone must have been up in the mine last night," until one night Cinderella grabbed an engraved silver charm from Baby G's hand and declared, "This is the pendant of a royal army page. Careless chap that went and lost that."

  "So, people like to give us things!" Esteban shouted, yanking the charm from Cinderella's hand and trudging to his bed. "I do not like her," he muttered on the way. "She is just not to be liked."

  Though some of the dwarves seemed to agree with Esteban's assessment, when they left the next morning, there was no mention of the mines.

  "Blasted... mmph," Cinderella muttered, and Rapunzel sniggered lightly as Cinderella at last topped the ladder, crawling onto the blanket to sit cross-legged beside her. "I am glad my pain can make you feel better."

  "Me too," Rapunzel returned.

  "What happened this time?" Cinderella questioned.

  "It is always the same," Rapunzel replied. She was so tired of the stupid dream, every night the same, every night filled with threat. "It just always feels so real."

  "It is still only a dream," Cinderella whispered.

  Bending down, she pressed a warm kiss to Rapunzel's shoulder, eliciting a sigh from Rapunzel, though her words were of less comfort. For, if Cinderella had never come to Naxos, Rapunzel was sure the dream would have been her reality, and, each night when she was trapped inside it, she could feel the ache in her throat, her life wavering, as if the dream was trying to pull her back to the tower.

  "You changed my destiny," Rapunzel said quietly, watching Cinderella's green eyes darken as she glanced away.

  "Is that a good or bad thing?" she quipped, but Rapunzel heard only the genuine concern in her undertone.

  "Do not be silly," she answered, arms wrapping around Cinderella's waist as she buried her face in the soft fabric of her nightgown.

  Cinderella's hand in her hair was hypnotic, the steady breaths that lifted her stomach a comfort against Rapunzel's ear, but the dream rising back up in her mind to destroy the momentary serenity, an immense shudder rocked her body.

  "I just cannot stop feeling..." She hesitated, arms tightening around Cinderella. "That someone is trying to change it back."

  Interlude 2

  "Enough!" the dark man shouted, though there was no one but his characters, trapped within their books, and the mice who nipped his bread to hear.

  When She disappeared, yet again, this time taking the other with Her, She destroyed both his precious tales. Still, the man had been patient. He had been forgiving. He had even, dare he think it, been impressed, for the odds were stacked heavily against Her and She had made a most dramatic escape.

  He would keep it, he thought, the twist in the story, go on from there, find something else to throw at Her and see what She would do next.

  Finding Her again, though, She had already done too much, for She had done the same. Once more, She invaded a world that was not Hers to manipulate, and changed it. Already, one had thoughts she should not think, and another emotions she should not feel.

  So powerful was the influence She and the other had upon his world, they had shaken the very kingdom itself.

  She had forced his hand, and the dark man did not like having his hand forced. He told the stories. He wrote their endings. It was his power. His key to immortality. He did not appreciate revisions made by someone else.

  All night, he had worked on a bend in the story, and he had created a most perfect tool. It would work, he knew, for he knew Her better than anyone, and should have anticipated She would fight for Her own way, to the death if necessary. So, he would give it to Her, Her way, Her freedom, a road to travel for eternity, if She wished, so long as She stayed out of the stories of others.

  He could only imagine, though, how She might get away next, to which land She might make Her escape, what She might damage, undo, the chaos She could create before he caught up with Her again.

  When they came for Her, they had to be able to get to Her, wherever She went, whichever story She fled to next. There could be nowhere to hide.

  Bright upon the page, the kaleidoscope would be Cinderella's undoing. With a gentle breath, the dark man sent it to its work, and the shelves shook around him as the boundaries between his kingdoms came crashing down.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The Problem with a Prince

  Life with the dwarves was nothing if not consistent. Every day, Big Papa announced that Cinderella and Rapunzel needed to be gone by the time the dwarves came back, and every evening Cinderella and Rapunzel were still there, waiting to ply Big Papa with ale and a meal surpassing any Snow White had made and compliments about what a strong man it took to manage so many unruly friends.

  Two bites into his dinner, Big Papa would relent, and Esteban would throw a fit, drinking down everything he could put his greedy hands on until he was drunk enough to call Cinderella things so creative, Rapunzel had started writing them down in a blank book taken from the dwarves stash of goods. She imagined some girl in a future prison, much like the one in which she spent so many years of her life, finding the journal and the same kind of escape within it that books had always brought her.

  Esteban had called Cinderella a festering trollop, a retch-toad, a satchel-choker and a sourgamp. As his insults began to make less and less sense, Cinderella went from ignoring him to deflecting his fire, and Esteban seemed quite happy to spar with her.

  "What is a retch-toad exac
tly?" Cinderella asked him one night.

  "It is a toad that is like retch," Esteban responded with a proud smile.

  "Is that it?" Cinderella queried. "That is the entire insult? A toad like a retch? That is terrible, Esteban, truly terrible. Honestly, you are much better than this."

  "Curmudgeon," he uttered.

  "Now, that is just a common word," Cinderella returned. "And, honestly, more descriptive of you than me."

  "Spreckle-fick?" Esteban tried in a hesitant voice.

  "All right." Cinderella looked sincerely impressed. "What does that mean?"

  When Esteban looked perplexed, as if the insult had no meaning at all, Cinderella shook her head in sad acceptance. "Oh, I do worry you do not know how insults work."

  With a grimace, Esteban retired to his bed to brood about it, and passed out from drink before he could come up with anything better to call her.

  Perhaps engaging in a constant battle of words with a dwarf with whom one shared living quarters was unwise, it occurred to Rapunzel, but she was struck by the way Cinderella laughed at Esteban's cracks at her. Though she had smiled often within the walls of the tower, Cinderella's laughter had been hard won, and often came so light, it was hardly laughter at all. Rapunzel knew it was due to the fact that Cinderella's life before had so little cause for laughter, and each time she heard Cinderella laugh in earnest at Esteban's growing frustration with her, Rapunzel felt as if they had found a place to belong. Deep within the forests of Aulis.

  · · ·

  It was early on the seventh morning of the kingdom's incarceration by Mother Nature that an alarmed shout woke all inhabitants of the dwarves' cabin except for one, who was already awake and in a most panicked state.

  "Ah, ah! It is coming for us!" Baby G shouted, and by the time Rapunzel became aware of the commotion, all the dwarves were standing on their beds, Baby G jumping up and down as he pointed to the incoming flood. "Help us, help us!"

  Looking beyond the railing, Snow White appeared to be in shock, and, arm wrapping around Rapunzel's back as she leaned over to see what the fuss was about, Cinderella erupted with laughter.