by Marnie Cate
“She has never left one alive after such a brutal attack,” Jameson commented. “It was as if something stopped her.”
“The dark one was lurking,” Joe said. “He may have lured her away.”
The dark one? My mind raced. If Amaro was lurking, my son was not safe.
“Cedric,” I gasped.
“I've checked on our son,” Jameson said. “He is eating cookies with the maid. I can hear him. He is safe.”
“Try not to speak,” Miselda said, tipping more of the liquid into my mouth. “Soon, you will be numb, and free from all pain.”
“She drank the potion,” my mother announced. “She did this to her because of it.”
“Excuses for the ice witch to hurt someone. Was it not you last time who endured her violent outburst? You both have been lucky to survive. Her time will end, but not until the silver butterfly is released,” Miselda said.
I wanted to ask her who would finally free us from this torment. Who would be the one to defeat Snowystra? Instead, I faded away into a dreamless, black void of nothingness.
Chapter 21
Screams woke me from my sleep. It took me a few seconds to realize I was the one making the horrible noises. I couldn't see anything. It was as if my eyes were covered with a heavy material.
“Remove the bandages. Her eyes should be healed enough to allow her to use them. Dim the lights though,” Miselda commanded.
“I'm here, Blanche. Try to calm down. You are safe,” Jameson whispered in my ear. He began to untwist the fabric covering my eyes. “Slowly, open your eyes.”
Following his directions, everything was blurry. I felt his warm breath on my face and could just make out his features. Blinking slowly, my vision began to clear, and I was staring into his eyes. His dark eyes held flecks of gold. It was like staring into the night sky.
“Can you see me?” he asked.
Slowly, I nodded. Jameson held a mirror above me. My face was discolored and I had long, thick scars covering it. I was unrecognizable. He tilted it to show me my body. I was wrapped from head to toe in gauze and my limbs were all in splints.
“You are alive, darling,” my mother said. “Miselda will continue to heal your beautiful face.”
“You should have let me die,” I rasped.
“No,” Jameson said firmly. “You are loved. You will heal. I will never leave you again. We will be a family.”
Tears streamed down my face. We would never be a family. We would never be safe. It was all just counting the moments until Snowystra killed us. A vial was pressed to my mouth and I drank it willingly. Once again, everything faded, and I was asleep.
My sleep was not dreamless this time. It alternated between being held in Amaro's tower and deep in the tunnels of Snowstrum. In each location in my dream, my body ached as I chased a silver butterfly. It was always just out of reach. Then, it landed on my hand. It was so tiny. Its eyes were hazel, and its wings were translucent shades of the rainbow.
“Will you save me?” I asked the small creature.
“Yessssssssssss,” it hissed as it flew away.
“Come back,” I cried. “Come back.”
“I'm here,” Jameson said, wrapping his arms around me. “I promised I won't leave you again.”
I could see clearly now. I was in my bedroom. I held my arm up. It was no longer bandaged, and I could only see faint scars.
“Help me up,” I requested, using a voice unfamiliar to myself.
“You shouldn't,” Jameson replied, trying to stop me. His efforts were futile.
Sitting up, I swung my legs to the edge of the bed. Standing, my legs gave a bit. I held onto the nightstand to steady myself. Jameson wrapped his arm around me, and supported me.
“You haven't been out of bed for over a month. Your muscles are weak,” he explained.
“Remove all of these cords,” I said, looking at the tubes coming from my body.
Jameson sighed as he gently removed a needle from my arm and a tube from an extremely personal area. I shuddered in disgust. How mortifying.
“Help me to the vanity. I want to sit and see what the monster she created now looks like,” I said.
Sitting at the dressing table, I stared at my reflection. My face was lined with light pink scars still. I took out some face powder, trying to cover it. It only accentuated the marks. Throwing the makeup, I screamed.
“Hush,” Jameson soothed. “You are going to wake Cedric.”
“Is mommy, ok?” I heard from the doorway.
Jameson went to Cedric and picked him up. “Yes, son. She is more than ok. Your beautiful mother is awake and ready to return to us.”
Jameson set him down on the seat next to me. Cedric reached out his little hand and caught one of my tears. “Don't cry, mommy. I am here to chase away the scary monsters.”
I held him close to me, inhaling his sweet soapy scent. “I know you will, my brave boy.”
“Father said he will be here from now on to protect us,” Cedric said, smiling up at Jameson.
“Father?” I questioned.
“I told him the truth, Blanche,” Jameson said. “He knows I am his father, but he must never tell anyone I exist.”
“Or his magic won't work anymore, and I'll never get my own magic,” Cedric said, nodding vehemently.
“Yes, it is our little secret,” I said, kissing him on the top of his head. “I'm a little tired still, love. Will you come see me tomorrow?”
“Yes, Mommy,” he replied, standing up. Gently, he took my hand and kissed the top of it. “Goodnight, my queen mommy. I will slay any evil dragons that dare approach our castle.”
“I am sure you will,” I smiled.
It was as if I had awoken in another world. Jameson was the attentive husband and dedicated father. My son was a brave knight, ready to do battle. The dark witch had been taken far away, and we would all live happily ever after. If only, it was all real.
* * *
One month. Jameson gave us the illusion of being a family for several weeks while I healed. When just four weeks passed, Snowystra called for him. Sadly, I was relieved when he went running back to her.
Jameson's moods had been ever changing. One minute he would be loving, and then the smallest thing would send him into a rant. The men I loved all seemed to have the same disposition, that of a small child — except for Simon. There was never a need to please, or a fear of, his temper.
When Jameson left, he claimed he was returning to her only to protect us. I knew it was more about his desire to be the king than his need to keep us safe. The person hurt the most by his departure was Cedric. I had given the five-year-old two false hopes of having a father – first, with Simon, and then, with his own father. I wondered if he would have been better off with believing his father was dead.
In the beginning, Jameson returned once a week whisking us up in his excitement each time. He brought us presents, taught Cedric how to catch snapping trout and told his son about the future he had planned for him. Cedric wasn't the only one he showered with attention. He made me feel as if I was the only woman in the world. He planned candlelight dinners, talked about our future and even brought me to the lake where we had first fallen in love.
It was all temporary, of course. Jameson could no longer pretend he loved the young woman I was. No matter how much he denied it, he was angry I had sterilized myself. He took my choice to not risk having any more children as an attack on him.
He was right. It wasn't fair to take away his chance of being a proper father, but none of this was fair. The arguments and sadness were too great for all of us. Soon, his once a week visits turned into every other.
* * *
I woke from a deep sleep as his arms wrapped around me, and he pulled me close to him. He breathed in deeply. “You smell like home,” Jameson said, kissing my neck.
“How nice of you to return,” I said, moving away from him.
“You know I have no choice. Do you want me to tell her I need to ru
n home to my wife and child?” he asked.
“I'm tired of this. You come and go as you please. I'm not your wife. You are not bound to me. And your child needs consistency, not heartache every time you fail him,” I said, leaving the bed.
He rolled over, staring at the ceiling. His jaw clenched. When he finally spoke, his tone was cold. “You win. I'll leave you alone in the misery and isolation you prefer.”
Before I could respond, he had left us, yet, again. When Cedric found his father gone, his heart was broken. I tried to comfort my crying child, and explain to him that Jameson would always be his father even if he wasn't around. I knew my son didn't appreciate my words. I didn't blame him.
Watching the pain etched on his face as he realized he would never be able to count on his father crushed me. It was difficult enough for me, but the injustice forced upon Cedric was almost more than I could bear. Sadly, it changed me.
Jameson did not return for six months, and by the time he did, my heart had hardened. I no longer cried for him in the night. I no longer melted at his touch. I didn't desire him anymore, and he knew it. The love we had was gone.
I was no longer blinded to the man before me. I now understood he would protect us if I did not isolate him. I would use that knowledge. I would use him now, instead of allowing him to use me.
I was not the only one who grew cold towards him. Cedric's feelings had changed. He was distant when Jameson tried to talk to him. He no longer looked up to his father. There was bitterness in my son's eyes, and defiance beneath his formality.
Our anger towards Jameson was tangible. The icy walls he faced were impassable. There was no room for him in our lives anymore. I wasn't surprised when he abruptly left.
* * *
As the years past, my bond with Cedric grew stronger. My son was maturing into a handsome youth who would, one day, become a gorgeous man. Still, his physical beauty paled when compared to his intelligence and kindness. Traits I hadn't expected from him considering everything I had put him through.
Cedric was delightful most of the time, but his father's temper would rise up in him every so often. In these moments, fear would grip me because I understood how easily my son's anger could become cruelty.
My tolerance for his coarse remarks or insubordination had grown thin. I found myself quick with punishments. I hated how easily I could be provoked to slap him. Even though my son could have easily responded with a violent action of his own, he took the abuse I inflicted. I wondered sometimes if it was because I was all he really had.
Despite the occasional defiant behavior, our life was calm, and I felt settled in my ordinary existence. We had been safe from Snowystra, following our mundane routines. Most days, we could push the devastation of the past to the back our minds, and enjoy the present happiness we shared together.
Finally, the day came where I stopped holding my breath waiting for something bad to happen. I stopped watching for the dark Goddess, and I foolishly let down my guard. I was naïve to think she would forgive me for failing her. I should have been more protective, more careful, but I didn't watch the shadows, and I let the darkness back into our lives.
Chapter 22
Eleven Years Later
“Your sixteen today,” I called to my sleeping son. “Wake up, sleepy head, and come see what I got you for your birthday.”
Popping up, he grinned. “You made me French toast?”
“Yes, but this is not your gift.” I laughed, and set the tray down on his lap.
Cedric dove into his breakfast. He held out his fork, offering me a bite.
Laughing, I accepted. I stole one of the sliced strawberries and popped it into my mouth. “Yum.”
“Hey,” he cried in mock protest.
I tousled his hair and kissed him on the cheek. “Finish up, and get ready. I have made plans to celebrate your birthday. You are no longer a child. The Drygen Legacy will be yours very soon, and with that, all of the responsibilities.”
“Have you heard from him?” His eyes lost their joy.
“Why would you think of him on a happy day? Jameson will only disappoint you if you invest too much into him. He will come by, as he does, for his monthly visit,” I answered.
“Tell him not to bother coming anymore. I don't know why you let him treat you like a mistress. Every time he leaves, you are so sad. His visits just upset you,” he snapped.
“Cedric Kingston Drygen, I am your mother and you will not talk to me this way.” I glared at him. “You have no idea the torture he has to endure at her hands.”
Cedric was right. Jameson didn't deserve my love, but I couldn't help loving him. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't push him out of my heart and mind. It was embarrassing to be such a strong confident woman, and then fall to pieces when he gave me the slightest bit of attention. My heart never fully hardened when it came to Jameson.
“Yes, I've heard the horrible stories. If I only had the magic inside me she wanted, I would've been able to charm her. I could've been able to convince her to leave you alone,” Cedric boasted.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Never say that again. Get dressed, and meet me in the study.”
“Yes, Mother.” He smirked. He didn't understand how cruel Snowystra could be. He only heard stories about her.
As I entered the study, Jameson stepped out of the shadows. “Our son is a man today. It is time he sees his future.”
“What are you talking about? His future is here. He is a Drygen,” I asserted.
“Blanche, it is time. He has magic inside him, and your tricks to block it will not work forever.” He touched my cheek, and kissed me gently.
My legs felt weak from his touch. A feeling I had not had in many years. Why now? Why today?
“Even after all of these years, you are still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
Somehow, Jameson's compliment made me feel apprehensive, though I wasn't sure why. I stiffened, causing him to search my eyes. I thought I would drown in the love I saw in his. When he held me tighter, and kissed me, the memories of our younger years together rushed through me. I was transported to our stolen moments on Sparrow Lake.
As the years of anger and distrust began to fade away, Jameson broke the spell. Abruptly, he released me, leaving me breathless. “You will celebrate Cedric's birthday when he returns. He will only be gone seven days.”
“No!” I cried.
“He is going to come with me, and learn what it means to be my son.”
“No, please, don't do this,” I pleaded.
“The Goddess wants to see him. I'll remind him to say nothing about who I am.” His demeanor changed. The cruel guard had returned.
“I won't let you take him unless you take me with you.” I clutched his arm.
“It's too risky. I can't protect you from her wrath.” Jameson jerked out of my grasp. “She has not forgiven you.”
“Bring us both,” My mother's voice filled with confidence.
“No.” I whipped around to see her standing in the doorway. “Don't listen to her, Jameson. Mother, you will stay here. You are not strong enough for this trip. If Snowystra –”
“Blanche, this was my fault. I did this to our family. Let me come with you and accept whatever punishment she has planned for us.” Her bravado failed, and she looked as if a strong breeze would blow over her wilted form.
“She has no plans to hurt you, but you know how she can be. I can't protect you, Camille,” Jameson warned.
“What does my grandmother need protection from? Whatever it is, I'll keep her safe.” Cedric slipped his arms around my mother. She jerked up straight as if she remembered she was a Drygen.
“You have been summoned by the Goddess. You will face her as the son of Blanche Drygen and Roger Kingston. Do you understand?” Jameson asked, and when our son nodded in response, he added, “You will see for yourself what your life would have been if the Goddess had chosen you.”
Cedric puffed up bravely. “I'll g
o, but I will not let my mother or grandmother be hurt. Take me to this Snowystra. Let her see what she gave away.”
* * *
The room filled with an icy wind. My mother quickly moved to me and grabbed my arm. Ropes of black particles spun through the air, and twisted around us. The arctic sting of the Winter called to my magic, which had long been buried within me. I held my hands above me. To my surprise, my fingers began to tingle, and a string of white emitted from them.
The four of us stood in the center of the study as snowflakes began to fall down upon us. Soon everything was blanketed with the soft powder. I breathed in the cold power of the magic, and my moment of power ended as a blinding light flashed. Jameson was transporting us to Snowstrum. Panic filled me. Where in Snowstrum is he taking us?
The blizzard around us cleared, and we were standing in the middle of a frozen forest. The snow-covered ground was filled with enormous trees, heavy with frost. Small white rabbits hopped past us and into the brush. Everything was perfect, except for the dark sky above. Black clouds ominously hovered. In the distance, I could see Snowystra's castle. The massive structure of high towers and walls looked as if they were made of ice.
The sounds of horses came from behind us. Craning my neck to see what was approaching, I shuddered at the sight of a skeleton, sitting atop a black and silver carriage being drawn by four skeletal horses. The driver wore a red and black uniform with a black top hat. His empty eye sockets had a crimson glow. When the carriage stopped, a Vetur guard jumped out from the back, and opened the door for us.
“There is no time to waste. Get in,” Jameson growled
Quickly, we entered the carriage. As soon as the Vetur climbed onto the seat beside the coachman, he snapped the reigns. The horses lurched forward with a squeal, jerking us onward. The transport shook as it flew across the snow.
Jameson's body was tense, and he was fuming. The heat emitting from him reflected his anger. His sudden irritation worried me.