by Emma Hamm
Again, that ridiculous chuckle rumbled against her ear before he set about unlatching her arms from around his neck. “Have you not seen enough to trust me, Amicia?”
She’d seen enough from Alexandre the Dread, the beast who looked into her eyes so soulfully. But she felt as though she didn’t know this strange, golden man who had carried her into the skies.
Amicia released her hold from around his neck and let her feet fall to the clouds. She winced before they touched. She would fall right through and then what would he say? Believe a little harder?
The soles of her feet touched the clouds and held. In fact, there was a strange solidity just underneath her feet. Almost as though there were a floor holding her up.
She stomped first one, then the other foot, before looking up at Alexandre with a raised brow. “Where are we?”
He had stopped looking at her. Instead, he gazed past her toward something behind Amicia. “Home,” he replied with reverence in his voice.
Swallowing hard, she turned around and didn’t know what to expect. Nothing in her human brain could have cooked up what magnificence she stared upon.
It was a city made of the sun. Golden columns like the pipes of an organ stretched high into the sky. Gleaming glass reflected the sun in her eyes until she could barely stand to look upon the metallic structure that was nothing like any castle she’d seen before.
Amicia waited for Celestials to burst out of the windows and glide toward them on gilded wings. When she would finally see the city for what it was, but nothing happened.
She held her breath for what felt like ages until she finally released it on a sad sigh. “Where is everyone?” she asked.
Alexandre’s gold eyes had turned sad. His wings were held tight against his body as he had when he was one of the Dread. He took a step forward, then another.
The clothing he once wore as the King of the Dread looked out of place on him now. Moth-eaten clothing too drab to cover the body of one who was so wondrous. So immaculate. And yet, he wore it well.
The smooth planes of his chest gleamed in the sunlight just like the city that had once been his home. His biceps were flexed, the tight muscles of his stomach solid with every movement. He was so much like her version of the man she had known, and yet, so different at the same time.
Perhaps she would always miss the horns that had once graced his head, or the long tangled matts of hair swept back from his face.
“Alexandre?” she asked again. “Where is everyone?”
“Your little book could only tell you so much,” he murmured. “We were sent to help the humans. All of us. Every single one. Some fell in the war when we tried to convince the humans we could benefit them. You were scared of us, at first.”
Staring at him now, with wings dipped in gold and a body so much larger than any human man she’d ever seen, Amicia could understand their fear. She gulped and inquired, “There was a war?”
“Still is in some parts of this world. A war you and I cannot stop no matter how hard we try.” He turned to her and reached out a hand. “Come with me, Amicia. Let me show you who I am.”
She wasn’t certain it was such a good idea. Her footprints would dirty the steps of the castle and she would be little more than a mouse once more. And yet, she still took his hand. If Alexandre had taught her anything, it was that he would never let her be anything less than herself.
His hand was warm in her grip. No claws scratched at her wrists, and yet, the callouses felt familiar. She stared down at the human-like hand with gold nails and smiled. “We were scared of you at first?”
“Very much so.” He squeezed her hand in his and drew her toward the city. The clouds drifted away from their feet, revealing a gold pathway that led them. Straight and narrow. “But we were rather persistent. Hence the war.”
“Who won?”
He shook his head sadly, staring at the abandoned city in the sky. “Neither side. The humans accepted the Celestials could help them. But we lost many of our people.”
“I can’t imagine anyone capable of killing someone like you or your kind.” Amicia could only imagine the battles, the way the Celestials had swooped down from the sky like the Dread, only infinitely more powerful. She shivered. “It must have been a massacre.”
“It was,” Alexandre agreed. “But there were many more humans. No matter how many we fought, there were always more to take their place. There are so few of us left the humans were perfectly happy to leave us alone after that. And we helped their lands prosper. To grow.”
Amicia could understand that. She had only seen Little Marsh as an idyllic life, when the history books accounted for famines and disease. Those stories had always confused her. How could any city have disease when people so rarely got sick?
More questions needed to be answered, however. “How were you cursed?” she asked, pausing in their walk to the city. “If everything was so well, then… how?”
Alexandre licked his lips and narrowed his eyes, as though he were trying to think hard about her question. As if he still couldn’t quite remember it. “I… I don’t remember. I know it was the alchemists. The moment you said you loved me, that I wasn’t a monster, I remembered so much in that instant. It was as if you had cleared my mind of fog I hadn’t even realized was there. But there is still much I’ve lost.”
“The book said the alchemists were the ones who did it.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. They were controlling me as no one else has ever done. They followed us, you see. When we first came here, they are all that is evil to our good. They would destroy this world and then leave it for another if they could. I suspect that is what they planned to use me for.”
Amicia pulled her hands from his and tucked them behind her back. She began to pace a large circle around him. Her father used to do this when he was thinking, and now she understood why. It helped.
Clearing her throat, she thought aloud, “The alchemists didn’t put up much of a fight when you banished them. That’s concerning me.”
“I agree.”
“Why didn’t they fight? If they were controlling you so thoroughly, why wouldn’t they have at least attempted to sway us a little more? Why wouldn’t they have attempted to silence me?”
Alexandre snapped his fingers and spread his wings wide. “There are more kingdoms.”
“And?”
“And there are more Celestials there. If this curse wasn’t limited to only me, then losing one Dread isn’t the end. They could flee to another one of those kingdoms and continue on with their plan.”
“But what is their plan?”
Alexandre turned on his heel and strode away from her, toward the city. She chased after him. Gold passed by her with every step, clouds disappearing to give way to intricate sculptures of winged beings guarding every pathway toward smaller castles where others must have lived.
Finally, they made it to the city center where Alexandre gestured for her to sit with him on a bench made of solid gold.
She gingerly sat down beside him. They faced what looked like a cliff, and yet it was simply the end of the city. The clouds parted and revealed all of Little Marsh below her. The city where small puffs of smoke could be seen even this high up. Not from embers or ash, but from people returning to their homes and beginning to pick up the pieces.
“They wanted me to accept my position as King of all the Dread,” he murmured. “At the time, I thought they meant only those who I had turned. But I think it meant more.”
“What would be more?”
“The Celestials as well. As King, I could force them together once more. I could turn them all into monsters equally powerful like myself. The alchemists want to summon the end of the world so they can remake it in their own name.”
Amicia swallowed. “That sounds bad.”
“It would be the end of all we know.”
She reached out and placed a hand atop his on his knee. “Then we must stop it. We’ll reach out to your brethren, tell them what�
��s happening.”
“We cannot. It was part of our pact long ago. To rule the humans, we swore an oath we would never speak to each other again.”
Amicia let out a frustrated huff. “Oaths can be broken.”
“Not this one.” Alexandre turned to her and lifted both their hands. He cupped her cheek, so gentle and kind. He stroked a thumb along her jaw. “You are so giving. So kind in everything you do, I aspire to be like you someday, mon amour.”
“My love,” she whispered. “I could get used to you saying that.”
“As could I.” He tugged her closer and pressed their lips together in a kiss. A promise. “I love you, Amicia. We will weather this storm together and pray my brothers and sisters will do the same.”
“Perhaps we’ll check on them?”
“Oui, that we can do.” He pulled back to smile down at her, eyes crinkled at the edges and golden hair drifting in front of his gaze. “Until then, I say we live.”
“Shall we rebuild the city?”
“Yes, that.”
She grinned. “Shall we adventure through the kingdom?”
“Together, we may do whatever you wish.”
There was only one more thing to ask him then, and just the asking of it made her quake. “Do you promise to love me forever, then?”
“Oh, much longer than forever,” he murmured. Alexandre dug his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck, drawing her head closer to him until she could taste his wild breath on her tongue. “You are my sun, moon, and stars. My reason for life, until death do we part.”
She kissed him then and felt every fiber of her being fill with a light that took seed deep in her chest. In that moment, Amicia was not just a woman.
She was every atom of a falling star who had raced an entire lifetime to be reunited with the light she had lost.
The Story Continues…
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“Parry.”
Danielle shifted her weight, lifting the heavy sword across her body as though she were trying to stop someone from attacking her. She paused for a moment, closing her eyes to imagine the person attacking her.
Armor covered his body. Heavy, silver, it would impede his movements more than her own supple leather. Although his strikes would be stronger, she was faster.
“Lunge.”
She twisted the sword in her hands then bolted forward. The sword tip struck her imaginary foe, but slid off his breastplate. She’d have to do better than that if she wanted to ensure he was dead by the time she left.
“Counter.”
Her feet tangled together as she tried to sidestep the imagined attack. Danielle tried to correct, but couldn’t stop herself from falling onto her bottom in the dirt.
“Damn it,” she muttered, remaining seated for a moment and staring up at the clouds which passed by overhead.
Fighting looked so much easier when the soldiers did it in the yard. They all fought with each other, not even imagined opponents, and their feet rarely tripped them up. Some of them ended up in the dirt. But it was usually because they were put on their ass by someone else.
Not by themselves.
Groaning, she rolled back onto her feet and lifted the sword in her hands once more. She continued through the movements she had observed from her room in the palace.
All this would be much easier if she had someone else teaching her. Danielle couldn’t see what she looked like as she parried, let alone thrusted the sword. Her form was probably atrocious, and that was why she kept falling down.
She could only sneak into the mirrored ballroom so many times before one of the servants would see her. They would inevitably tell her father, and then this would all be over. He didn’t want her to learn how to fight. He wanted her to be the little princess everyone thought she should be.
As she practiced the movements, she grunted out the words that haunted her sleep. “Danielle, fix your skirts. Sit up straighter. Smile, the people will think you’re mean.”
If one more person told her to smile, she would run away into the forests and never return. She could survive on her own!
The imaginary attacker shifted in her vision. Danielle countered, her feet following the path they were supposed to this time. With a shout, she struck out with her blade in an arc that would have beheaded any man who stood before her.
Deep in a lunge, she paused. Her thighs shook with exertion but she felt good. She had used her body as most people did every single day. Sitting on a plush cushion only made her feel ill. She wanted to be outside in the sun but sunlight made freckles appear on her nose and no foreign prince wanted a princess with spots.
At least, everyone claimed princes hated freckles.
“Find a prince, Danielle, and you’ll be happy for the rest of your life.” She sang the words then crossed her eyes and let the sword fall into the grass around her legs.
Finding a prince wouldn’t make her happy. Finding a prince would make everything worse. They’d have opinions, tell her what to do with the country which was her god given right to rule alone.
Even her father agreed. She would become the maiden ruler of Hollow Hill. But only when she had a husband to “help”.
Marriage wouldn’t help. It would distract because eventually she would need to procreate. The mere idea made her stomach clench and gorge rise in her throat. She wasn’t old enough for children, and she didn’t want to go through the pain. Not yet. Maybe never.
Sweat dripped down her brow and stung the corners of her eyes. She rubbed them then stared back at the sky, tracking the sun so she wouldn’t be late to return.
This was meant to be a trip gathering herbs for the local herbalists. She was certain they wouldn’t tell her father she hadn’t delivered anything. And hadn’t for the past five times she’d used the excuse.
Eventually, that one would dry up.
But she loved coming here alone. To this field in the middle of the forest which surrounded Hollow Hill. Green grass filled a small circle where none of the trees had grown. Stones encircled the small area, and a brook babbled at the other side.
She made her way to the running water, sunlight sparkling across its surface and making spots dance in her vision. The water was crystal clear and tasted like perfumed air. Danielle had drunk from its waters so many times she could hardly count them.
Her mother used to bring her here. She sank down in the plush moss at the edge of the water and dunked her hands into the stream. Icy water made her fingers sting.
She lifted a handful to her mouth and sipped at it, drinking deeply and trying to banish thoughts of the court. That’s what her mother had always done here, after all. They would come to this field together, pick flowers, laugh at all the things the courtesans had done.
Now, her mother didn’t laugh at all.
Frowning, Danielle stared down at her reflection in the water and sighed. She’d pulled her long, blonde hair back from her face severely. A pretty face, although one which looked better smiling than it did frowning. Her father said she looked too aggressive when she wasn’t smiling.
He was probably right. Danielle’s lips were a little too thin, and when she pressed them together, they looked downright shrewish. Her brows arched too much, making her look as though she were judging everyone who stood before her. Her jaw was too square, her cheekbones too high.
For all her looks, she was made to be a warrior. She should have been fighting at the forefront of battle.
But they couldn’t afford to lose the princess of Hollow Hill. So instead of being where she wanted to be, learning how to fight with the other soldiers, Danielle was here. Hiding in the forest, hoping no one found out she’d stolen a sword from the barracks.
She didn’t hear the bushes rustling until it was far too late. Perhaps if she’d kept her sword, she might have been more prepared. Just having the weapon made her aware of her surroundings.
As it was, Danielle didn’t notice something wa
s even approaching her until she heard a branch snapping. A dark shape emerged behind her.
Her mind couldn’t quite process what it looked like, even as the stream warped its reflection. Large wings stretched from its back, horns reached above his head like a demon from the storybooks.
She didn’t react. She froze in place because there couldn’t be a monster looming above her like some kind of horrific nightmare come to life. Her mind must have conjured her worries into reality.
It wasn’t possible the creature behind her was reaching for her. She couldn’t believe it.
A clawed hand grasped the back of her neck. She had a moment to gasp in a lungful of air before it pushed her down and dunked her head into the stream.
Cold water washed over her face and up to her neck. She burst into action, wrapping her hands around the strong fingers which only clasped harder. Claws dug at the soft skin of her neck and she saw blood bloom in the water from her forehead. A rock had scratched it, although she couldn’t feel the pain.
She scrabbled at the creature’s hand, trying hard to draw blood of her own. But it did not release its hold upon the column of her throat. If anything, it only squeezed harder until stars sparked in her vision and she couldn’t think of anything but death.
Was this how the princess of Hollow Hill died? Killed by a monster in the forest no one would ever know existed?
She wouldn’t allow it. Danielle forced her body to relax and at the moment when it thought she had drowned, she kicked out with her legs. One foot connected hard with its knee. The creature let out a grunt she heard even underwater and released its hold just long enough for her to wiggle free from its grasp.
Dragging herself across the stream, she scrambled to the other side and rolled onto her back.
It didn’t give her time to escape. The creature gave one heavy beat of its wings and then it was on top of her again. This time, it wrapped both hands around her throat and squeezed hard, pushing her into the ground with its weight.
Danielle held onto its hands, but she couldn’t force it to release her. It sat upon her, straddling her waist and effectively pinning her down.