First Light (Forever After Series)

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First Light (Forever After Series) Page 31

by Michele Paige Holmes


  “It cannot wish one back from the dead.” I repeated one of the first things Merry Anne had explained about the bracelet’s magic.

  “Cristian is not dead. If he was, you might see him alive again in the past, but the outcome would be the same. Though his death might be different, the laws of nature dictate that he would still have to die before you caught up with the present once more.”

  “A pearl cannot overcome a magic more powerful, a black magic, as was used to curse the sword,” I recited.

  “True.” Zipporah nodded sagely. “You’ve listened well.”

  “Then how can the pearl— what good is it?"

  “It is perfectly, tremendously good— at taking one to another place or— time.”

  She watched me closely as her words sank in. Another time. “I can go back!”

  “Yes.” She released my hands and shrank to her fairy form. “You can return in time to a point before Cristian used the sword. But that will also mean returning to face Nadamaris again, for she will be restored— at least temporarily— as well. And if you face her again, the outcome may yet be different.”

  Of course it would be different. Cristian would live!

  “You may die, Adrielle.” Zipporah hovered in the air, directly in front of me. Her tone was serious, her tiny face grave. “And Cristian may die, too. If you return, there are no guarantees. All of Canelia may yet be lost.”

  All of Canelia. While I had spent the past days weeping, there had been much rejoicing throughout the land. Nadamaris was gone, the drought lifted, the people free. In reversing time, I would jeopardize all of this.

  “But if I don’t return, Cristian will die.”

  Zipporah nodded. “Do you love him enough to risk his death a second time? To risk your own?”

  “Yes.” It was an easy choice, the only choice.

  “Then choose your moment carefully, Adrielle, and choose it soon. Cristian has but one hour to live. If you do not go back before then, he will be lost.”

  The next forty-six minutes were some of the most agonizing of my life as I clutched the pearl in my fist and held it close to my heart, thinking through the wonderful, awful choice I must make. Zipporah flew by every so often to check on Cristian and tell me how much time remained.

  What at first had seemed a simple thing— to wish to return to a moment before Cristian touched the sword— was, in fact, rather complicated. If I didn’t go back far enough, the same thing might happen again. But if I went back in time too far, any number of events might occur— many of them altering the future for the worse.

  The power I held in my hand was terrifying, and I understood why Merry Anne had not mentioned this possibility before. Had I known of it earlier, when I first had the pearls, I might have wished to return home, to see my parents once more.

  What is to stop me from wishing for that now? A shudder rippled down my spine. Zipporah had said that— as owner of the enchanted pearl— I was the only one who would remember that I had gone back, who would remember time as it previously was, before my wish. If I returned home, I could right the wrongs I’d done, and I could still save Cristian— and see my parents, too. I could save them from suffering. And they wouldn’t realize I was saving them, wouldn’t know all that they’d already endured, because their memories would be gone.

  My heart felt tender as I thought of my parents, of the possibility of seeing them alive again. I could return to the morning Mother and I argued over the silver. Instead of disagreeing with her, I’d listen to everything she said. I’d help her, insist she rest, mix her the medicines that would prolong her life. For how long?

  Ignoring that troublesome question, I imagined talking to Papa, feeling his arms around me in one of his great hugs. I wouldn’t leave him alone by the fire at night; Nadamaris’s mercenaries wouldn’t murder him. Would they continue searching and find me instead?

  And if they did, what could become of Cristian? Of all of Canelia?

  How easily I might change the future— for the worse.

  With much sorrow, I pulled my thoughts from home, from the possibility of seeing my parents. Traveling back in time that far was too great a risk. I hadn’t met Cristian then, and if something happened to either of us before we did… That possibility I could not bear.

  I thought of returning to the moment before the gypsies discovered Hale and me in the forest. I’d convince Hale to come with me to Castle Canelia, and there we would plot with Cristian and Cecilia to overthrow Nadamaris. Hale wouldn’t suffer at his mother’s hand; Cristian would live. It was the perfect moment to return to, except… Nadamaris would have already seen my fire by then and would have discovered my true identity.

  I buried my face in my hands. There is no perfect time to return to.

  “Of course there isn’t,” Zipporah said, having read my thoughts as she fluttered by. “In going back, you’re not only granting Cristian life again, but returning Nadamaris to power as well.” Zipporah hovered in the air above me. I lifted my face to look at her.

  “You defeated her once,” she reminded me. “At a great cost. But in facing her again, the price may be heavier yet. Have you the courage?”

  I wanted to tell her I did but instead fought with the lump of fear that had formed in my throat. Nadamaris had butchered Hale, encased me in metal, and made herself into a dragon that tortured Cristian. What might we have to face if I brought her to life again?

  “What is your greatest wish, Adrielle?” Zipporah asked. “And is it stronger than your greatest fear?”

  “I must save Cristian,” I said without hesitation. “He has to live. I cannot live without him.” I knew what I spoke was true. Peace settled in my troubled heart. I did have courage.

  “Then make your wish, my dear.” Zipporah flew away, leaving us alone.

  I looked down upon Cristian, my best friend, my family now, my future. I concentrated all the love I’d ever felt, all the hope I had, all the faith that we were meant to be together into the pearl in my hand.

  And wished to return to the most perfect moment of my life.

  “Have you lost something— like your mind?” The words rolled from my lips as they had once before, five nights earlier. I’d uttered my wish— to return to the moment before he kissed me for the first time— and blinked, and here we were in Canelia’s secret garden.

  “I fear I’ve lost much more than that.” Cristian’s finger traced my cheek, and my face tingled, the warmth spreading like fire through the rest of my body. I stepped back, and my heel bumped against a tree trunk. I couldn’t take my eyes from him, whole and healthy, that mischievous, devil-may-care look upon his face.

  It worked! I’m really here. Cristian is here. Alive. Unhurt.

  He moved nearer, until he was treacherously close. That same, unruly curl still hung across his brow. This time I brushed it aside, and it was all I could do to keep from kissing him before he kissed me.

  “You’re engaged to the princess,” I reminded him— appreciating, this time, how he must have been and would be amused by that comment.

  His lips curved in his charming smile, making him appear even more handsome than usual. “I know.”

  He took my face in his hands and kissed me.

  I threw my arms around him, pulling him close, returning his kiss with all the pent-up emotions of the past week. I’d thought I was finished crying, so happy was I to be returned to the past. But tears flooded my eyes anyway.

  “Oh, Cristian.” I held him away from me, looking at him, touching his shoulders and arms, strong and unmarred.

  “Adrielle.” His eyes were wide and a little shocked. “I hadn’t expected—”

  I kissed him again, longer this time, then lay my head against his chest, reveling in the steady beat of his heart. “I love you, Cristian. So very much.”

  Before he could reply, Cecilia’s voice came from the other side of the hedge, calling him as she had the first time we’d lived this night. I realized Hale must have just left her side.
I had to catch him, to stop him before he started the journey home to his wicked mother.

  I stepped from Cristian’s embrace. “Stay here. I’ll get Cecilia and be right back.”

  He stared at me in a dazed sort of way. In spite of the gravity of our situation, I laughed.

  “Do you trust me?” I said, turning the tables, asking him that question instead of the other way around.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Then wait for me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I lifted my skirt and ran toward the hedge. Before pushing my way through, I turned back to him.

  “And Cristian—”

  He’d been running his fingers through his hair and pacing but stopped both to look at me.

  “We’re going to have a great life together as King and Queen of Canelia.”

  There hadn’t been enough time during the hour I’d had to make my choice about going back to thoroughly consider my plan once I got here. But now that I was reliving the past and saw Cristian alive and well, I had every intention of keeping him that way— and Hale, too. We needed to act fast, to surprise Nadamaris, to catch her while her powers were at their weakest from using her magic to transform Hale for the ball.

  I met Cecilia on the pathway outside the hidden garden.

  “Cristian is waiting for you on the other side of that hedge.” I pointed to the row of thick bushes. “Can you tell me where the handsome stranger you just danced with is?”

  She drew in her breath sharply. “There.” She pointed in the direction of the east balcony. “You mustn’t go after him. He was sent here to—”

  “Cut out my heart,” I finished. “Don’t worry. He’d never do it. He loves you, and besides, he still thinks you’re the princess.”

  Cecilia’s hands flew to her face. “Who told you?”

  “Cristian,” I said. “Not much of a secret keeper, is he?” I really was having too much fun with this. I knew things would get serious soon enough.

  As I left Cecilia, it occurred to me what danger she’d put herself in at the ball. I realized now that the entire night had been a ploy to draw out Nadamaris— or those working for her— and Cecilia had been the bait. What trouble everyone has gone through to protect me. I felt both humbled and guilty. I needed to make certain Cecilia stayed safe as well.

  I went to the east balcony and spied Hale sneaking off along the back wall, heading in the opposite direction of those leaving in their carriages. It was no wonder we’d discovered each other in the woods. The gate I’d climbed in the secret garden couldn’t be too far from where he was planning to exit the castle grounds. I ran after him and caught up to him easily, though it was not yet midnight and his leg hadn’t returned to its usual, dysfunctional state.

  “What d’ye want?” he snarled when I came upon him and stopped him by grabbing his sleeve.

  “Don’t go, Hale.” My use of his name caught his attention. He glanced at me, and I saw the recognition in his eyes. He pulled back.

  I stepped even closer. “You’re Queen Nadamaris’s son, and you came here to kill the princess but didn’t because you love Cecilia.” My words tumbled out in a breathless mass. “I’m begging, please stay here to help us defeat your mother.”

  He shrugged out of my grasp and took a step back. “What witchcraft is this? Are you one of Mother’s spies, or are you planning to send me to the dungeons here?”

  “Neither.” I shook my head. “Please.” I searched my memory for something I might say to convince him. “If you go back home, Nadamaris will mutilate your leg, and she’ll capture the princess, too.” Now was not the time to mention that princess was me. “I know all this because I’ve been to the future.”

  He scoffed. “Even Mother cannot change time.”

  “It’s true,” I said. “I’ve listened to your screams while you were tortured.” I held out my hand to him, imploring. As I did, the dim light revealed a faint line across the tip of my finger.

  Black magic always leaves a mark. The scar could only be from the prick of the cursed sword. And if I was scarred… “Let me see your leg,” I said.

  “There’s nothing amiss with my leg.” But Hale pulled it up closer to his body, away from me. He turned and took off running. I followed, caught up to him, and dove forward, knocking him to the ground. He fought back but not at full strength. It was apparent he’d been drinking heavily already. His condition, plus my many years’ experience removing boots— the task of taking off and cleaning my brothers’ having been my unfortunate lot— allowed me to wrestle his off and fling it aside. He kicked at me, and I rolled away, out of his reach. I scrambled to my feet and assumed a fighter’s stance. We had to have his help.

  “If there’s nothing wrong with your leg then there is no harm in me looking at it.”

  Hale stood, squirming uncomfortably beneath my stare. “If you see it is normal, am I free to go?”

  “Yes,” I answered, praying I was right. If Nadamaris hadn’t used magic when she altered his leg—

  But she had. And lots of it. As Hale stood and drew his pant leg up, I saw that it was straight as a normal leg should be— he was still under the spell for the ball— but a thick, jagged scar began at his ankle and ran up past his knee, disappearing beneath his trousers. A bitter look crept over his face as he stared at it.

  “She did this— in the future— you say?”

  I looked away, feeling ill as I remembered the blood seeping through the bandages, his expression twisted in agony. “Yes. At Castle Baldwinidad— two days from now. She broke every bone in your leg and cut away the flesh that was— as it shouldn’t be. She said she did it for the princess, so she could stand to be with you. But what she didn’t know—”

  “Was that I have always wanted to be with you.” Cecelia came up beside me, tears in her eyes as she stared at the horrendous scar.

  Cristian stood next to her. “You’ve been to the future?” he asked me, his expression confused.

  I nodded. “It didn’t go so well. We’ve got to try something different.”

  “Tell us what to do.” Cecilia stepped forward and reached for Hale’s hand.

  An unbelieving, overjoyed expression lit his face, reminding me of the reverence with which he’d held her lock of hair when we’d been in the woods. He really did love her. The tower clock began striking midnight. A panicked look swept Hale’s joy away, and he tried pulling his hand free. “I must go.”

  “Don’t let him leave,” I said. Cristian stepped forward, restraining Hale while Cecilia tried to comfort him.

  “It will be all right.”

  “You don’t understand.” Anguish filled Hale’s expression as he looked at her. The sixth chime sounded on the clock. His leg trembled.

  “No,” he wailed, doubling over, pain creasing the lines of his face.

  “What’s happening?” Cecilia cried.

  “He’s returning to himself,” I said. “The queen used a spell to change his appearance tonight so you wouldn’t recognize him as her son—”

  “But I knew it was you all along.” Cecilia crouched beside Hale, her face close to his. “I knew it was you. Your face was the same— your eyes as kind as before.”

  He straightened and stared at her, as unbelieving as he’d been when she’d taken his hand. The clock struck ten, eleven, twelve times while they looked at one another. Beads of sweat popped out along Hale’s forehead, and his jaw clenched. His body trembled head to foot. At last the chimes silenced, and his breathing evened.

  “What do you see now?” He glanced at his leg. With his trousers still pushed up, his deformity was outlined clearly. The leg twisted and bent, ending in a misshapen, outturned foot. The jagged scar remained.

  “I see you.” Cecilia touched his face.

  “Don’t.” Hale turned away, his foot dragging. “Am I not the most hideous thing you’ve ever witnessed, the beast everyone speaks of?”

  It was Cecilia who appeared perplexed now. “No. Save for your leg, you’re the same as you were a m
oment ago.”

  Hale barked out a harsh laugh. “Your jest is unnecessarily cruel, Princess. I am well aware of my faults. My face alone is enough to justify the rumors.” He rubbed his chin, then stopped, bringing his other hand to his face as well, touching his clean-shaven cheeks, his neatly trimmed hair, then holding his hands out in front of him, staring at his youthful, flawless skin.

  I thought it time I enlightened him. “When we lived this night before, I used an enchanted pearl to wish you back to the vigor and appearance of your youth. The way you are now is quite as you will remain— a pearl’s magic is binding, regardless of whether or not one goes forward or backward in time.” Zipporah had explained this to me, too, wanting to make sure I understood that I would have no wishes to rely on when I went back. “This is how you’re going to be— unless you ruin yourself with drink again,” I added sourly. “Please see that you don’t; it was a wish we could have well-used otherwise.”

  Hale’s brow bunched in consternation. “How’d you come by an enchanted pearl? They’re for the princess’s protection.”

  This again. “A long story.” I sighed, remembering how much time the telling of it had taken before. “Our night grows short. Explanations must wait. We have much to do.”

  I addressed Cecilia and Hale. “I need you two to find the fairies. Tell Kindra we need her to set fires in Nadamaris’s forest. Ask Florence to prepare every healing potion she knows and have them ready. Ask Merry Anne to stay with the king and queen— our parents—” I shared a sad smile with Cecilia. “They’re as much yours as they are mine.” I kicked off the dainty slippers Florence had produced to go with my gown. “And please ask Zipporah if I may borrow her shoes. I’ll need to be quick on my feet.”

  “Just a minute.” Cristian grabbed my arm. “What am I to do while you’re running all over giving orders?”

  “What you do best,” I said, linking my arm through his.

  “Which is?”

  “Brandishing your sword and loving me.” I reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Come on. Let’s go find some gypsies.”

 

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