by Anita Valle
The door resists. It grunts and groans as I bump my shoulder against it and dust falls all over me when it gives. I brush off my head and peer around.
I’m inside a large room, very dirty, very cobwebby. I don’t understand half of what’s in here. Shelves, jars, tables cluttered with strange objects, and a giant black pot in the middle of the room. I’ve never seen a pot that huge, you could cook all of me inside it. Everything I see is coated with rubble and dust.
I walk around, my nose crinkled. The smells are strange, I don’t recognize them. Dust and decay but other smells underneath. Must be coming from the jars on the shelves. I can’t tell what was in them, it’s all dried up and black.
I stop by a wooden stand with a thick book on top. It’s the only book I see in this room. I lean in and blow the thick blanket of dust off the cover. My eyes widen as I read the title: Book of Spells.
I hold my breath. Really? Is this really a book of spells? I shift the crackling torch to my other hand and open the cover with one finger.
I don’t know how long I stand there. My torch shrinks until I fear it will burn my hand but I can’t stop reading. It’s the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen. It describes not only spells but also their origins and the world of magic. It tells you how to draw on magic from within yourself to cast spells. Many people struggle to find their inner magic and some doubt they have it at all. But I know I have it, it’s in my tears. I read the strange ingredients, the procedures for various spells, and look around me again. I’m starting to understand what this room was for.
One spell sounds like the answer to all my problems. The Forgetting Spell. Often given in food, whoever consumes it will forget their past life entirely. They will believe only what the spellcaster tells them – who they are, where they came from, what they care about. It calls for the use of blue rose petals, like the ones we have in our garden. I can’t help it, I think of Kay. If I could make him forget Beauty…. If I could tell him I’m his only friend, the only one he cares about….
I tear the page out before going upstairs for supper. I want to bring the whole book but I’ll have to do that in secret. I don’t want anyone else knowing about this.
Beauty eats quickly, fretting that she still has five spools left to spin. “I ache all over, my back, my arms, my legs…. Why does it have to be so hard just to get a little gold? I’ll going to be up all night with this spinning.”
“Wear something else,” Kay says. “You don’t need a gold dress.”
“Yes. I do.” Beauty spits the words at him. “I’m going to be queen! Think that happens every day? This is my coronation and I want a gold dress. I have to be the most glamorous queen anyone has ever seen.”
“Then let’s put it off a day,” Kay says. “Ask your godmother for more time, we can wait.”
“No, we can’t!” Beauty says. “I sent out messages to fifty of my friends. Godnutter was mad but I don’t really care. I want some people to be at my coronation! It still counts as a small one.”
I can’t taste my chicken anymore. Did she say fifty? Beauty has fifty friends? I want to hurl my plate at her, leap across the table and grab her throat, shriek and yell and scratch her face. Fifty friends! All I have is Kay and he doesn’t even want me!
I’m panting through my nose and my teeth are clenched. Calm down, Zelly, don’t let them see. If I’ve been counting the days right, there’s just a few more hours to go. And then everything Beauty has will be mine.
Melodie, who has barely spoken during the meal, turns to her son. “Kay, I think we should leave the palace tonight. And I think Beauty and Rapunzel should come with us.”
“Why?” we all cry together.
“Lunilla hasn’t come back. And it bothers me.”
“She said not to worry,” I say.
“That’s what bothers me. I don’t think she’s coming back,” Melodie says.
“Where would she go?” Kay asks.
“I don’t know. She’s been insane with rage that her throne is being taken. It was always her greatest fear. I don’t think she just went for a drive, I think she’s doing something.”
“Like what?” I ask.
Melodie’s face is tight. “I think she’s going to attack in some way. With the coronation tomorrow, tonight would be the night to do it. We should leave.”
“She wouldn’t hurt us,” Kay says. “We’re family.”
“There is nothing my sister wouldn’t do,” Melodie says. “She wants the throne for herself. And later for Jack. She will not give that up, not even for you, Kay.”
Beauty smirks. “She can’t do a thing. Godnutter told her she can’t do a thing.”
“Did you always do everything your godmother told you?” Melodie asks. “Did you listen, even when you saw a way out?”
Beauty shuts her mouth.
But we can’t leave!” I cry. Or my plans are ruined. “That means we’re letting Lunilla win. This palace has plenty of guards, right? They’ll protect us!”
“And Aunt Lunilla can’t do magic,” Kay says.
“Maybe she’s giving up,” Beauty says. “Rather than being kicked off her throne, she’s running away before we can do it.”
Melodie shakes her head. “That’s not Lunilla.”
“Doesn’t matter!” I say fiercely. “I’m not going anywhere. If the rest of you want to run away, fine! They can crown me tomorrow.” I glare at Beauty, knowing that will seal the deal.
She narrows her eyes at me. “Over my dead body.”
Melodie looks at Kay. Very gently, he shakes his head. Melodie throws down her fork and leaves the table.
~*~ 38 ~*~
I go to my room after supper. When my two servant ladies come to dress me for bed, I dismiss them, saying I don’t need their help tonight. I take my favorite warm blue dress out of my wardrobe cabinet and lay it over a chair. This is what I want to be crowned queen in. Once Beauty is gone, they’ll have to choose me. And Kay will be my king. With this new spell, I’ll make him forget she ever existed. Everything will be perfect.
I sit on the bed and pull out the folded page from the inside of my dress. I read the spell over and over until I’m sure I’m memorized it. Just in case I lose the paper or something. I practice until I can recite it with my eyes shut. Make thyself a tempting brew, start with a kettle of morning dew. Add maple sugar and honey, too. The petals of roses, brightest blue….
Blue roses. I should get them now, I don’t know how long they’re going to bloom. But it’s still too early. I hear movements in the hall outside my room, the occasional voice. No one has gone to bed yet. The minutes pass like syrup, one sluggish drop at a time. I’m waiting for mid-night. When it’s midnight, today becomes tomorrow. And tomorrow is the day I need.
I pull open a drawer in a small table beside my bed to hide the paper. Inside the drawer, I find a pouch with a drawstring to keep it shut. Interesting. Snowy has one just like it, she uses it to carry coins. I take the pouch and shut the drawer. I’ll use this to hold the roses.
I find a book and climb back onto the bed. It’s hard to focus but I try and force myself to read. I have a few more hours to kill. At least the book is good, after a while I’m really into it. It tells the story of a man who rescues a bunch of children from their cruel village where they had to work hard and were never allowed to play. He plays his pipe and the children follow him to a wonderful new land. There are drawings of the happy, skipping children and I find myself grinning over them. They’re so cute and little and they seem to adore the piper. I think that’s what I want next, I want to see children.
After I finish the book, I unravel the fancy braid my two servant ladies gave me, brush out all of my hair, and braid it up again, the simple way I’ve always done it. It always takes two hours to brush and braid my hair, so it’s a good time passer. I stand in the middle of the room and arrange my braid in a swirl around my feet, admiring how the candlelight throws bits of gold into the red weave. I love my hair. It may be a pain
some-times but I’m never going to cut it. When I’m queen, I bet the girls of this kingdom will be crazy about my hair. They’ll start growing out their own to look like mine.
By now, heavy night has fallen. The windows are black and I don’t hear any sounds. Perhaps I can go. I lift the drawstring pouch off the bed and loop the cord around my wrist. Then, carefully, I slip out of my door.
Feeling like some kind of thief, I creep down through the palace. I’m wearing soft lady-shoes that the house-keeper gave me and they’re much quieter than Snowy’s boots. A tired-looking servant passes me with a bucket but otherwise, I see no one.
I slip out to the rose garden through a door near the kitchen, the one Lunilla showed me. And I stop. It’s warm out here! Warm as soup. I don’t remember the air ever feeling like this.
Oh sugar, I forgot to bring a light with me. But the moon is nearly full and I can make out the rose bushes, though they look like scruffy black shapes. I remember where the blue ones were, about midway up this row. I creep along the path, holding my braid like a baby in my arms. It makes too much noise when it drags.
I check the roses by sniffing. Yes, these are the blue ones, the smell is calming. I throw a quick glance over my shoulder at the palace. A few windows are glowing like gold teeth in the wall. Not everyone is asleep yet. Quickly and quietly, I pinch four roses off the bush and push them into the small bag hanging from my wrist. As I close the bag, a pool of light falls over me.
“Zelly?”
I spin around. Kay is right behind me with a lantern in his hand.
~*~ 39 ~*~
“Oh. Hi Kay.”
“Hi. Why are you out here in the dark?”
“I forgot a candle.”
He smiles as if amused but his eyes do not sit on me easily. He’s remembering our fight. “Are you looking for something?”
“Are you?” I lower my arm so he won’t notice the bag dangling from my wrist.
Kay shrugs. “Nothing much.” He steps around me and heads up the path, carrying his lantern. He stops when he reaches a bush full of blood-red roses. As he stares at them, he sighs.
“What’s wrong?” I say.
“Nothing. You’ll just get mad.”
“Is it about Beauty?”
“Yes.”
He’s right. I’m getting mad. I cast a scornful glance down on the bush. “Getting her a rose?”
“She wants it,” he says. “I asked if I could give her something for the coronation tomorrow. She said a red rose for her hair. But….” He rubs a hand over his tired face. “She said it impatiently, like she just wanted to get rid of me.”
“And yet you are still getting the rose,” I say dryly. He’s cutting it off the bush with his knife, leaving a long section of stem attached. He walks back up the path to me with it.
“I’m trying to be hopeful,” he says. “But it’s hard. I was excited at first, the two of us crowned together. I thought it would give me more time with her, let her get to know me.”
“I figured,” I say.
“But now….” Kay turns the rose in his hand. “This is how it’s going to be, isn’t it? She’s going to push me away, even when I’m king. I still won’t be good enough for her.”
“No, you won’t,” I say harshly. I’m not sugar-coating Beauty. I walk up the path without lifting my braid and it hisses over the dirt behind me. I decide to go in at the front of the palace, I want to check that big clock on the main tower. The wind swoops into my face and I catch an odd smell, but familiar.
I turn around. “Is Barker here?”
“Barker?” Kay looks bewildered.
“Never mind,” I say. The smell is gone, I caught only a whiff of it. Earthy and musky, like the cottage. It was odd, that smell, which is why I remember it. And how I heard something moving around above me but came out and found Barker on the stairs.
I leave the garden and walk toward the front of the palace, approaching those white circular stairs from the left. The large clock hangs far above the main doors, a black face with gold hands. Five minutes to midnight. It’s nearly time.
Kay catches up to me. “Zelly… look. I know I haven’t been a good friend. But I still like you! And I thought you liked me, too.”
“I did. But….” We stop at the base of the stairs and I put a hand on my hip. “Here’s the thing, Kay. I do like you. I like the way you talk to me. I like your teeth when you smile and I like your eyebrows. I like it that you make me laugh, because I never laugh at all. You don’t have to convince me to like you, I just do! You are… my first friend, Kay. I’ve been waiting all my life for you.”
I was going to say more but gob dash it, my throat tightens up. I was going to say that if Beauty doesn’t feel like that, she doesn’t deserve him. But I think he got it. Because he reaches out and pulls me against him.
I wasn’t expecting it. The warmth, the closeness, the strangeness of it. My cheek is against his chest and it feels squarish and firm. His arms press on my back, his hands squeeze my shoulders, and all I can think is that being trapped in a small space has never felt so wonder-ful. I breathe deeply, inhaling his scent. And he smells so good, like… like Kay.
His face is bowed over me and I feel his chin settle on top of my head. “What a jerk I’ve been.”
“No, you haven’t.” My voice comes out soft as a dove. “You’ve just been distracted.”
“I never told you…” Kay steps back and shines his white smile all over me “…how beautiful your hair is. I’ve always admired it.”
“Really? You like my hair?” I grin and brush it lightly with my fingers. My chest fills up with a happy, glowing feeling.
“It’s amazing, the color of fire when it’s burning low in the hearth. I always thought fire was beautiful and your hair reminds me of it. Don’t ever cut it, please, I’d be heartbroken!”
I laugh. He likes my hair! I plop myself down on the marble steps and pat the place beside me. “Sit down, Kay. We haven’t really talked in a while.” I forgot how much I like talking to Kay when it’s not about Beauty.
Kay smiles and sits next to me, resting his arms on his knees. He looks relaxed now, even happy. Happy to be with me. “All right,” he says. “You want to go first?”
BONG….
Oh my blood and bones. The clock.
BONG….
It’s midnight. It’s time. But now, I don’t want to leave Kay.
BONG….
I jump to my feet. “Stay here! I’ll be right back!”
“Where are you going?”
“I have to do something real quick.”
BONG….
Kay smiles. “Sure, Zelly. Don’t be long!”
I fly up the white marble steps. BONG…. It’s time. It’s time. I’m nervous but I feel like cheering. Kay and I are friends again. BONG…. With the possibility – perhaps – of being something more? The way he grinned at me just now sent my heart to the skies. I want to feel that again.
BONG….
I dash into the palace. Up corridors and stairs with-out being aware of them. BONG…. BONG…. The clock is like a massive heart, beating out the sound of my fear. Because I am afraid, now. I know what I’m going to do is wicked.
BONG….
Just get it over with. Quickly as possible. Then Kay will be mine. He’ll forget about Beauty, I’ll see to that. It’s going to be fine.
I skid into Beauty’s chamber. It’s dark - she’s still on the balcony, spinning in the weak light of one candle. Her back faces me through the open glass doors.
BONG….
I don’t hesitate. I rush out on the balcony and grab her wrist, yanking her hand off the machine. She gasps and looks at me. I see the spindle, holding its spool of golden thread. The point is so beautifully sharp.
Still clutching her wrist, I lean in and stare into her perfect blue eyes. “Happy Birthday, Beauty!” I hiss out. And then I thrust her hand down on the sharp spindle point.
BONG….
~*~ 40 ~*
~
Beauty shrieks and jumps off the chair, jerking out of my grasp. “Are you CRAZY?” She opens her hand and there’s a thick drop of blood growing out of her middle finger. She stares at it and then raises murderous eyes to my face. Her mouth opens… but I’ll never know what she might have said.
Because Beauty drops, right there on the balcony. Close to the spinning wheel, almost curled against it. Her long lashes flutter for a moment. Then she lies still.
I step back, covering my mouth. Oh my blood and bones, I did it! She’s gone now, gone! Not dead but gone from my life. And no one will know it was me. I’ll pretend to be as shocked as everyone else. I’ll go down to Kay now and act like nothing happened. And we’ll have our talk. Slowly, I creep around Beauty’s fallen figure, trying to wipe off the cold sweat that’s sprung out on me.
Something trembles. I feel it first in my feet. Then a low, grumbling sound reaches my ears. I freeze on the balcony and spread my arms for balance as the trembling increases. Could it be the whole palace is shaking?
I spin around and look out. It’s too dark to see. But the land has awakened with terrible sounds of cracking and crunching, like the earth is splitting, like trees are falling, like stone is crushing against stone. The tremor worsens and I tumble onto the balcony railing. Slumped over it, I stare at the ground below. The moonlight gives me a feeble impression of something long and many-armed that seems to be climbing out of the earth. My eyes jump to the palace wall where a tendril of – ivy, is it ivy? – shoots up past me, slithering like a snake. And that does it.
Screaming, I run inside the palace, jerking my braid into my arms. The shaking throws me off balance and I topple onto one knee. Wrenching myself up, I race out of Beauty’s room and down the hall to my own. I hurl myself onto the bed, sweep the blankets over me, and cry and cry and cry. This is the worse, most horrible day of my life. Happy Birthday, Rapunzel.