Beauty Beheld: A Retelling of Hansel and Gretel (The Becoming Beauty Trilogy Book 3)

by Brittany Fichter

  Unfortunately, the remaining Fae also seemed to have more self-control than their brothers and sisters that lay at Ever’s feet, for the fire did not bring them to their bodies as it had the others. Instead, they began to circle around him. As they did, however, more cracking sounded from above. Ever looked up just in time to see the cave ceiling begin its collapse. Rocks began to rain down upon them, small at first, but then growing in size and weight. Glow worms fell into the pool with the rocks, taking even more of the light with them. Ever was forced to duck and cover his head. For unlike the mists, he could be crushed.

  Another loud tearing sound echoed throughout the round cave, and again, Ever was underwater. A large boulder pinned his left knee to the ground. He couldn’t breathe. Gurgled laughs sounded as the three whorls morphed into distorted bodies that continued their slow walk towards him.

  Ever had never been burned by his own fire before, but as the desperate idea entered his head, he wondered if this trick might just be his last one. And yet, as a foot delivered a kick to his ribs, Ever dropped his sword and stretched his hands out before him. Once more, he told the Fortress.

  Hesitation did not hold him as it often did. There was no wondering as to whether his power would be too much. Ever dug down to his core and mined every bit of strength he had left. It left his fingertips with a hiss, and the water that had surrounded him sizzled as it cut through the air. The three Fae screamed as the scalding water hit, so hot it turned into its own mist.

  Then all was quiet.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The Hard Questions

  “I’m cold,” Genny moaned.

  “We only have two blankets, and you’ve got one of them,” Henri reminded her, less patient with his sister’s demands than usual. The hot, dusty three-day ride had made him grumpy, and the hard floor beneath him now only made it worse.

  “How about you snuggle with me?” Miss Isa reached over and drew the little girl close before wrapping her cloak around them both.

  “I still don’t understand why I can’t use my fire,” Henri mumbled.

  “The Fae can sense power the way you do. If you use your power, they have a better chance of finding us. We need to stay quiet and hidden until we meet back up with the king.”

  “When is King Ever coming?” Genny asked as Miss Isa rearranged their blankets and then leaned back against the hard wooden bench.

  “Soon, I hope,” Miss Isa said, but Henri could see the strain in her smile this time. After the king had dashed away, taking the Fae with him, Miss Isa and the children had bolted with what little supplies had already been packed upon the two remaining horses. For who knew, Miss Isa had said, when more Fae would be sent? With tears and prayers, Miss Isa’s family had sent them off, Miss Isa on one horse and Genny and Henri on the other.

  The first day hadn’t been so bad. On the contrary, Henri had felt like a warrior on a quest as they’d ridden through the countryside. But as they began to draw closer to the southern forests the pleasure had fled, and it was all Henri could do to keep from turning the horse around and racing right back to Miss Isa’s family instead. What he wouldn’t give for a few more of Mrs. Marchand’s cookies.

  “I don’t see why we have to stay here,” Henri grumbled as he moved back up to the bench. Perhaps it would be more comfortable on the bench than the floor, though it hadn’t been the last three times he’d tried. “Father Lucien is gone.”

  “Father Lucien must have been needed elsewhere,” Miss Isa said. “But I know he would wish for us to rest within the church if he were here.”

  Henri frowned at the queen. The church had been locked up when they’d arrived, but she had shown no hesitancy in loosening one of the animal skins that covered the windows, then climbing inside. Breaking into the church wasn’t exactly the kind of behavior Henri would have expected from the queen. He and Genny were the ones who were expected to break the rules, not her. It seemed odd.

  They sat quietly for a long time as Genny’s breathing became deep and even against Miss Isa’s chest. They had no fire, as the church had no hearth, and it truly was beginning to grow chilly despite the fact that summer would soon be upon them. The dark of the night and the thin blanket Henri had wrapped around himself reminded him that he was tired as well, but he wasn’t yet ready for sleep. They were too close to his old home, the cottage with the tree-smashed roof and nine years of memories that Henri would rather not possess. So instead, he decided to ask more questions.

  “Why does that woman want us?”

  Miss Isa looked at him, and even in the weak, silvery light leaking in from the outside, Henri could see her look of surprise. They hadn’t told him much about their enemy, but Henri had done enough eavesdropping to know that this mysterious woman was not a gentle spirit. “I do not know,” Miss Isa said. “I can only guess that she knows you are part Fae as well, and thinks you should be within her ranks.”

  Huh. That was certainly not an outcome Henri desired. All his Fae blood ever seemed to do was get him in trouble. Living with people like him was the last thing he wanted. “If she’s at the Fortress, then where are all of the soldiers? Shouldn’t they have stopped her?”

  “The king sent them to a secret place to wait until the time is right to retake the Fortress.”

  A brief silence lapsed before Henri decided to do something daring. It was the question he’d been dying to ask for weeks, but hadn’t had the courage. “Why have you kept us for so long?”

  At this, Miss Isa frowned. And with each passing second of silence, Henri was sure she was searching for a way to tell him that they didn’t want the children anymore and that he and Genny would be sent off on their own as soon as possible. He and his sister had not been easy house guests, he knew. They were too noisy and ate too much food. Genny was always whining for Miss Isa, and Henri seemed to be incapable of staying out of the king’s way. So when Miss Isa finally answered him, he was taken completely by surprise.

  “You need someone to love you.” She paused then before adding, “And we need someone to love us, too.”

  Henri gulped. Could she be saying what he hoped she was? There was only one way to find out.

  “That boy from the story... was he ever lonely?”

  “Yes,” Miss Isa murmured, sounding tired. “He had no brothers or sisters to play with, and most of the other children his age were afraid of what he could do.”

  “Does he want me?”

  “Why do you ask?” Even in the muted moonlight, Miss Isa looked weary as she held Genny and leaned back against the church bench, but Henri had to know. Because he was dangerously close to letting himself fall in love with a family who might not want to love him.

  “I don’t think he wants me,” Henri continued. “I’m too much like him. And he doesn’t like himself sometimes.”

  “He saved you, didn’t he?”

  Henri didn’t answer. As though able to read his silence, Miss Isa pushed herself back up into a sitting position and reached out to take his hand. Henri tried to wiggle it free, but the queen held firm.

  “King Everard shows his love in a different way from many other people. He does things for others, keeping them safe and cared for. His father taught him to use a sword to show love instead of words. King Everard is learning to show his love in other ways now, but learning takes time.” She smiled a bit. “Like the way you are learning to control your powers. Now,” she yawned, “tomorrow will have its own troubles, but I think those troubles will be easier if we get some sleep tonight. Goodnight, Henri.”

  With a sigh, Henri obeyed. The queen’s voice was sadder than he’d ever heard it. And though the king still made Henri nervous, Henri decided that he did indeed want the king to come back soon. For he could see how sad Miss Isa was without him. And the queen was too kind to be kept sad.

  Henri was awakened some time later by the murmur of two voices. Stiffly, he rolled over to see a hulking form standing above the queen. Panic seized Henri as he tried to see her. Was she st
ill breathing? Had the stranger hurt his sister?

  “How is your knee?” Miss Isa’s voice was quiet.

  Relief made his limbs feel wobbly when he heard the king answer.

  “It’s a little sore, but it will be fine in a few days.”

  “You didn’t walk here, did you?” She sounded alarmed.

  “I had no choice. Your father’s horse ran when I ducked into the cave. Hopefully, he went home. And don’t worry, I healed it enough that I could run some.”

  There was a pause, and Henri guessed that the queen did not like that answer. Finally, she asked, “How long do you think until we reach them?”

  The king groaned. “Four days at best. Maybe longer.”

  “Could you send Acelet a message, now that you know how to fight the Fae?”

  Henri did his best to look like he was asleep. He didn’t know why, but excitement tickled his chest when he realized they were talking about the army. He tried to peek at them from beneath his eyelids. To his relief, the king had turned so that Henri could see what he was doing. He held up the ring he always wore, the one with the image of a wolf on the top. Its gold gleamed in the moonlight.

  “Launce knows not to accept any summons except this. I wasn’t sure if my sister could create the illusion of me well enough to fool him, so he is not to follow a single word I say or send until he can hold this ring in his hand. Unfortunately,” the king put the ring back on and ran his hand through his hair, “I couldn’t find any birds when I arrived here.”

  “It was that way when we got here,” Miss Isa said quietly.

  Henri shivered at the memory. For as long as Henri could remember, Father Lucien had lived in the little windowless room behind the church. But when they had arrived that afternoon, Henri had nearly been sick at the sight of the blackened, torched hovel. The main room of the church had been left alone, but it didn’t make him feel much better. Father Lucien, the one friend he’d had before the king and queen had come along, was gone, and the holy man hadn’t left a clue behind as to where he went.

  “How did you all fare?” the king asked.

  “We did well enough. My father had at least packed us two blankets and enough food and water for a day. Yesterday, we found a stream that had some apples nearby.” She paused. “You would have been proud of Henri. A single Fae began to chase us after you left, but Henri was able to throw wads of his fire backward until it no longer followed us.”

  Henri nearly jumped when the king turned to look at him, the rings of fire burning into his eyes as though he’d known Henri was awake the entire time. Henri cringed, ready for the lecture. Instead, however, the king only stood and walked over to the bench where he lay. Laying a hand on Henri’s arm, the king said quietly,

  “You did well. I’m proud of you.”

  As the king then walked to the front of the church, laying on the bench closest to the door, Henri felt an immense wave of peace wash through him. For nearly a week, he had gone to sleep with the feeling of being chased. Even at the Fortress, he hadn’t slept well. But this night, for the first time in what felt like a long time, Henri let himself drift off to sleep. He felt safe.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Hold Them Tight

  Isa studied the set of Ever’s shoulders as his horse led the way into the woods. Because they had only two horses instead of three, Isa and Ever had redistributed their weight by placing Genny with Ever on his horse and Henri on Isa’s. Now as he held Genny in front of him he appeared confident enough, his back straight and shoulders high, and there were even moments when Isa believed him. But whenever she tried to peer into his heart, to reach out and touch the man inside, there was too much turmoil. Confidence, yes. But pain, too. Duty. Abandonment. Longing.

  “I don’t like that tree.” Genny’s little voice interrupted Isa’s musings.

  “And why is that?” Despite his volatile mood, Ever sounded amused.

  “It dropped me.”

  “You mean you fell out of it.” Henri smirked.

  Isa laughed, a strange sound in the midst of the sickly trees and the sickly yellow light that filtered through them. How she longed to be free of these oppressive woods. Heavy rains had kept them inside the church for the majority of the morning. Ever had gone out to inspect the tree from which Sacha had made her appearances, but nothing had been revealed. He had more faith, however, that they would find answers back at the cottage Sacha had lured the children to, which was still a day’s ride away. That, he felt, was where the original tear between realms would be.

  They found a place to spend the night just before the sun set. By then they had traveled deep enough in the woods that the light was weak, and Ever didn’t want to be caught unawares in the dark without a fire. As soon as the horses had been watered, Ever made a little fire no larger than the size of his fist, though he used natural means so as not to attract any wandering Fae’s attention. Then Henri showed him how to set a trap to catch a hare. Isa couldn’t help giggling to herself as she watched that unfold, for Ever’s annoyance at not knowing the simple skill was expressed through his continually deepening scowl. Before long, however, two hares were caught, and everyone settled down to a hot supper.

  “King Ever, I have a question.”

  Ever froze, his wide eyes meeting Isa’s. Isa was just as surprised. Since arriving at the Fortress, Henri had done his best to avoid Ever, answering Ever’s questions in as few words as possible. And he had never spoken to Ever voluntarily. “When you heal,” Henri continued, “does your fire burn the people you touch?”

  “No,” Ever said slowly. “Why?”

  “I have fire, but I can’t heal people. I only burn them.” Henri frowned and held out his hands. “My gift doesn’t seem very useful.”

  “You might be surprised,” Ever said, taking another piece of rabbit from their makeshift spit. “With the proper training, you could learn to use your fire in many ways.

  “Do you have fire?” Genny asked Isa.

  “A little, when I need it. My gift is different than King Ever’s, but I can use the Fortress’s fire for small things.” Isa hated calling Ever by his title in front of the children. After all, he was their father now. But there hadn’t yet been a time that felt right to tell the children about their adoption. It was not the kind of information one could spring on a child right before bed.

  “I wish I had a gift.” Genny pouted. “Henri can at least make fire. I can’t do anything!”

  “Now, Genny, your smile alone is fully of magic.” Isa tickled the little girl.

  But Henri wasn’t looking at them. He was still staring at Ever. “How do you make your fire heal?”

  “Give me your hand,” Ever said. Henri stared at him for a long moment before ever so slowly raising his right hand. Ever reached over and took it, placing it inside of his own large hand. Henri looked nervous, but Ever closed his hand over the boy’s. “Do you feel that?” Blue fire engulfed both their hands.

  Henri nodded.

  “Good. That is my fire as it comes to me, raw and undisciplined as yours is.”

  “I can control it,” Henri grumbled.

  “Somewhat. But now feel the difference.” The flame began to dance. Most humans wouldn’t have been able to feel it, but Isa could, and even Genny’s eyes grew rounder as Ever’s fire changed its rhythmic pulsing. “It has taken me years of practice to achieve such, but I have trained my fire to do more than burn air. Instead, it can move through substances as well as people. I recently healed a man who struggled with fits of coughing.”

  “How?”

  “Ever,” Isa murmured, hating to break the moment, “the Fae might sense you.”

  Ever let go of the boy’s hand and the fire disappeared. “I sent my fire into his blood. As it traveled his body, it purged him of the illness that resided within it. As fire takes away dross from gold, so can my fire do with sicknesses. It can also speed healing of skin and bones.”

  “That sounds impossible.” Henri rubbed his hand.<
br />
  “It is not my place to judge what is or is not impossible,” Ever said, returning to his food. “Only to trust that the Fortress will do as the Maker wishes it to. I must be willing to serve as a vessel for those choices, whether that be in humility or victory.”

  Henri looked thoughtful but said no more. After supper, Isa wrapped each child in one of the blankets. Though he fought it at first, Henri eventually succumbed to sleep, resting his head against one of Isa’s legs. Genny, however, had other plans. Without a word, she marched up to Ever before turning and plopping herself in his lap. Ever looked at Isa with panic in his eyes, but Isa only smiled. So many times she’d imagined her husband cradling a child in his lap. And now he was, albeit involuntarily.

  Still, as the little girl curled up in his arms, wonder filled Ever’s eyes. Softly, so softly, he reached up and stroked her hair, and for the first time that day, Isa felt the peace ripple through Ever like a little stone in a pond.

  It seemed that no sooner that Isa had closed her eyes than a distant explosion jolted her awake. Lightning filled the sky’s holes in the forest canopy above them, lighting up the trees like daggers in the night. Isa turned to pull Henri to his feet, but Ever was already ahead of her, and had both children off the ground. In no time, both the children were on the horses, and Ever and Isa were leading them on foot, though where they were going, Isa had not the slightest idea. She thought she heard Ever saying something about ruining the horse’s feet in a forest as this. But their progress on foot was slow at best, and the storm continued to build as its chased them deeper into the heart of the woods.

  “Will we make it to the cottage?” Isa yelled over the storm.