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

by Brittany Fichter

  “You look well.” Isa turned to see Sacha eyeing Ever suspiciously. “No matter, though.” She waved her hand dismissively and walked to the balcony’s edge.

  “Destin!” Sacha’s voice echoed down from the tower to the people below. “My name is Sacha Fortier. I am the firstborn of the late King Rodrigue, and I have come to take my place.” She began to list all of the ways Ever had failed the Fortress and its people, but Isa didn’t listen. Instead, she stared into the beautiful gray eyes of the man beside her. Any time now, they would need to set their plan into motion, but oh, how she wanted to linger here in the fiery gray depths of his gaze.

  “So you don’t think me heartless, I will offer my brother mercy one more time,” Sacha said, turning back to Ever and Isa. “Do you renounce your claim to the throne, and swear never to enter this kingdom again?”

  Ever turned to look his sister straight on. “I swore to serve this Fortress until death. Doing anything less would be dishonorable,” his voice boomed. “So no. I will not surrender what I have sworn to protect.”

  “And you?” Sacha turned to Isa, her eyes hard. “Do you renounce your title?”

  “I took the same oath as my husband. Honor will be for us both.”

  “Fools,” Sacha muttered before turning back to the people. “Since they won’t renounce their claims to the throne, even though the Maker has clearly delivered the Fortress into my hands, it is my duty to take it from them. By fire they have lived, and by fire they will die. Henri.”

  Only then did Isa realize Henri and Genny had been brought out onto the balcony as well. Henri whispered something in Genny’s ear before letting go of her hand and trudging out to join his mother. Genny screamed as she fought to free herself from the Fae, but Henri only walked forward. Behind him, two of the Fae carried the boiling cauldron out, placing it between Sacha and Ever. Despite her resolve to stay calm, Isa fought the urge to lunge at Sacha. Whom had Sacha threatened to coerce the boy into such evil? Isa could only guess too well.

  “Henri,” Isa called out softly. “You don’t need to do this. Trust the Fortress! She cannot touch you without its permission—”

  Sacha hand was sharp and fast, and it made Isa’s face sting. Ever looked as though he might tear his sister to pieces, but Isa bumped into his arm and shook her head. They needed to wait for the right moment. She needed to get to Henri. If she couldn’t convince Henri, they were all doomed.

  Sacha walked back to the cauldron and held her hands out, then looked expectantly at Henri.

  “Henri, no,” Isa whispered, but Henri raised his hands as well, refusing to look at her as he stared stubbornly into the cauldron’s brown bubbles. A thin glove of blue and green fire wrapped itself around his hands, and he placed them on the side of the cauldron.

  Sacha began the incantation, and as her voice rose, the burning began again, this time, in Isa’s feet. The sensation reminded her of walking barefoot on the Soudain’s cobblestone streets after they’d been too long in the sun.

  “Isa.” Ever had leaned down, his eyes burning brightly. Knowing it might be her last, Isa craned her neck up and met him for a brief, beautiful goodbye. His lips were feverishly hot, and she knew he was feeling the Sorthileige’s heat as well. Still, it was a strong kiss. One that made Isa smile. As they said goodbye, Isa felt the rope around her wrist burn off with his fire. They were ready.

  In one instant, Isa was kissing her husband. In the next, he was gone. Ever jerked around and threw himself at the nearest Fae. It disintegrated, and he fell hard on the ground. In another second, he was up, swinging the Fae’s pike around in the air like a staff, his fire flaming from it at both ends.

  Sacha’s surprise showed on her face, and for a moment, she forgot to chant. Isa took that moment to throw herself down at Henri’s feet. She considered pushing his arms down, but the green and blue fire that encircled them told her that was a bad idea. Instead, she placed one hand on his face. “You don’t have to do this,” she whispered.

  “Get away from him!” Sacha screeched, but Isa ignored her. If her hands weren’t held out above the cauldron, Isa was sure Sacha would have killed her in that moment. As it was, the burning not only intensified in her feet but moved up to her ankles as well. Isa stifled a short cry. Sweat began to roll down her temples, and Isa clenched her muscles tightly to try and repel the burn as she forced herself to look back up at Henri.

  “She said she would hurt Genny,” Henri whimpered.

  Sacha’s incantations became a shout, sending another wave of pain over Isa.

  “Do you remember all those times,” she gasped, “when I told you we needed to trust the Fortress?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is the most important time of all.”

  “Shut up!” Sacha screamed at her, but Isa kept going. Whenever the woman became distracted, the burning that now had risen to her calves would lessen for just a moment. Behind her, Isa could hear the sound of fighting as Ever shielded her from the Fae. She needed to move quickly.

  “Your mother needs you for this because she is not strong enough to unhand us on her own. If you stop helping her, she will not be able to continue.” Isa sucked a quick breath in. The fire was now at her waist, and the world was beginning to tilt. Shaking her head to clear it, Isa continued. “Did you know that before we met your father and mother, King Ever and I decided to keep you as our own—”

  Isa’s words broke off in another bout of pain, but Henri’s fire flickered.

  Drawing in air was becoming more and more difficult. The burning was now up to her lungs, and Isa had to place a hand on the ground to remain upright where she knelt. Please, Fortress, she begged. Just a little longer!

  “We love you, Henri,” she gasped. “If... If we hadn’t been attacked that night, you and Genny...” But she couldn’t continue. The pain was too much. Clawing its way up her throat, her world exploded into one burning chasm of fire. The ground began to rise again, and Isa hit the balcony floor.

  “No!” Henri cried out.

  “Henri! Get back here!” Sacha shouted, but instead, Isa felt a small hand clutching her arm. Somehow, she pried her eyes open one last time.

  “You were going to keep us?” Henri whimpered, his golden hair falling in his eyes as tears began to stream down his face. He still held one hand against the cauldron, but the other was holding her.

  Isa smiled, reaching up to caress his face with a trembling hand. “We love you and Genny so much...” she sucked another breath in, “... that we vowed to go to the ends of the world for you. And this is me doing just that.” Isa’s body felt as though it should imitate the Fae and fall into a pile of ashes. But in slow, agonizing movements, she pushed herself up on her knees and wrapped him in an embrace. As she held him tight, Isa gathered all the love in her heart and impressed it upon Henri’s.

  Just as she’d opened Ever’s hear the night before, now Isa wrapped the truth around Henri. There was no more hammering away at the walls he’d erected around his heart. Instead, she wove the truth of their love in and out of his soul like one might weave a ribbon of silk. She showed him the way she felt when the children entered a room. She let him feel Ever’s anger at their father’s carelessness. She sang to him her heartsong, the tears of joy she’d cried as they’d sealed the blood vow.

  Slowly, ever so slowly Isa felt Henri’s heart begin to open. His fear began to melt away, and his breathing grew deeper. And Isa thanked the Maker as Sacha’s screams wreaked havoc upon her arms and face. He had answered her prayers. And though Sacha’s fire was great, the fire of the Fortress within her was greater. Sacha might burn her body to nothingness, but Isa’s soul could not be conquered.

  Isa would have gone on hugging Henri to her forever, but eventually, she could hold on no longer. Briefly, she saw the blurry form of a boy reaching out for her as she let herself fall. As the fire ravaged her body from the inside, she didn’t even feel herself hit the ground.

  People shouted from all around her. Men’s v
oices, in particular, began to drown out the others. She could feel Henri still battling with himself over whether to continue aiding his mother, or to let go of the cauldron completely. He longed to let go, but there was just enough fear left to keep him from it.

  “Henri,” Isa whispered. She could vaguely make out the sound of weeping, and a little hand found its way into hers. Sacha was screaming something again, but Isa didn’t care. The pain was so great she was nearly numb. “The truth is that you are loved. You need no longer fear.” As soon as the words had left her lips, Isa felt herself slip away.

  Her life at the Fortress had not been long. But Isa’s four years had been good. Oh, how good they had been! Her journey, which had begun with a broken body and broken heart, had brought her the purpose she had so long craved. Ever, once the hated prince who had ruined her life, had become the friend who valued her life above his own. And even if it was only for a brief time, the Fortress had brought Isa children as well. Not a detail would she change in the life she had been given.

  Take care of them, she silently asked the Fortress as she pushed the last of her strength into the boy’s heart. He’s seen the truth. Now let him believe.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Into the Flames

  Ever wondered how much longer he would be able to hold up. The burning was more painful than the hemlock’s poison had been, but at least it didn’t send his body into convulsions. Still, both hurt more than Ever had once thought possible. Only by the Fortress’s mercy was he still fighting.

  At least he didn’t have to think much about his fighting tactics, for with each Fae it was the same.

  Burn the fire brightly on the pike.

  Wait for the Fae to come, like moths to a flame.

  Wait for the Fae to materialize while drawing close to the flame.

  But just as he would kill one Fae, another would come. How many had Isa said there were? Over two hundred? Then he would have to mesmerize that one, too. Still, Ever wondered, where were the others? He’d witnessed at least four dozen Fae with them when they’d first arrived at the balcony. Though his opponents here were still coming fast and steady, there weren’t nearly as many as there should have been. And that made him nervous.

  Unfortunately, another bout of burning punched him in the gut, and Ever hit the ground. A swift crack to the head from his latest foe’s pike sent his vision spinning as well. Ever swept his left arm back blindly and managed to knock the Fae over. She quickly rematerialized on her feet, this time with four more Fae at her side, but he couldn’t seem to rise again. Without his fiery torch to distract them, the Fae crouched back, ready to spring, more joining them by the second. Ever did the first thing he could think of, and threw a little ball of blue fire high above their heads, just as he had in the cave. The Fae stopped fighting to watch it as it rose. But where was his pike?

  Panicked, Ever searched the ground for his weapon, only to realize it had rolled away. Just as the Fae began to look back down from the sky, their eyes once again focusing on him, two of them gave a rasping sound and collapsed before turning into a pile of ash. Ever looked up to find the last person he had expected to see.

  “Acelet!”

  “Keep drawing them!” his general said, crouching low for to meet another. “We’ll pick them off!”

  Ever didn’t stop to ask how his general had known to come, but in his heart, he was in awe. The Fortress had answered his pleas. Somehow, the fire continued to build in his hands, though his body felt like it should collapse at any minute. And yet, he felt at least temporarily invigorated as his men flooded the balcony around him. As they tried their first attempts at fighting the airy creatures, Ever had an idea. I can’t do this without you, he told the Fortress. I’ll need more fire than I’ve ever wielded before. Then he balled his fists and raised them up to the sky.

  In response, each of his soldier’s weapons burned bright blue with his flame. Ever was so surprised that he nearly forgot to focus. It was an incredible sight, the glowing green eyes of the Fae meeting the blazing blue weapons of his men. As the men fought, different flames would go out here and there, and Ever would have to rebuild each. Every ball of blue flame was harder to make than the last, but he pushed on. If he could just hold on, his weariness wouldn’t matter in a few minutes, for Acelet’s men would have won the day, and Ever would be free to face his sister. And with that in mind, Ever was able to push out the pain just enough to continue to fight.

  A cry interrupted his focus on the balls of fire, however, and immediately, the burning lessened. There was no celebration, though, when he turned and saw Henri staring in horror at the ground. Henri clutched at Isa’s arm with the hand that wasn’t touching the cauldron, tears slipping down his thin cheeks.

  The world stopped. Ever stumbled then found his feet, only to fall again. Pushing, shoving, crawling, and running, he might as well have been wading through tar. The way her eyes were closed and the absence of color in her skin were too real. They looked too much like death. But Isa couldn’t be dead. He wouldn’t allow it.

  Finally, Ever broke through the battle raging around them to collapse at Isa’s side. He could hear his men’s dismay as their fires went out, but he didn’t care. Lifting her head up, Ever placed his ear on her chest. It wasn’t moving up and down.

  “Henri,” Sacha screeched, “if you stop now, the Sorthileige will kill you!”

  “That’s not what she said!” Henri took a step closer to where Ever cradled Isa, holding the edge of the cauldron with only a few fingers.

  “You will die!” Sacha’s voice was hysterical.

  “No!” Henri shouted. “You’re lying!”

  “Henri, I will kill you myself if you don’t finish this!”

  Rage took Ever as it hadn’t before. This woman would die.

  Before he could intervene, however, Henri turned to his mother. “No,” he said, his young voice suddenly as calm as a pond.

  “No, what?” Sacha’s shoulders heaved as she threw even more green flame into the cauldron. The pain took Ever by surprise, and a cry slipped out against his will. “You worthless piece of—”

  “I am not worthless! Miss Isa and King Ever took a blood vow for me and Genny because they loved us. And the Fortress loves us. So I don’t need you.” Henri looked from his mother to his hand. “And I don’t need this.”

  An inhuman shriek tore itself from Sacha’s lips as Henri let go of the cauldron. Genny screamed from another part of the balcony, but Ever couldn’t see her.

  “Get down!” he shouted, praying desperately that Genny was out of the way. Ever grabbed Henri and threw himself over the boy and his wife. As he did, the dark swell of Sorthileige that Ever had felt building inside the cauldron broke. Sacha was enveloped in one quick burst of green flame that burned brighter than the sun.

  Then she was gone.

  The remaining Fae that had battled around them collapsed into the familiar piles of ash, their pikes making clacking sounds as they hit the ground. In awe, the soldiers watched their enemies’ remains float away on a sudden wind. A cry of victory was raised from one soldier, and soon they were all shouting, as were as the people on the ground below them. But not Ever.

  Now that the burning was gone and Sacha was dead, he lifted Isa’s lifeless body into his lap. “No,” he whispered. It can’t be true, Fortress! She’s not gone. She can’t be! And yet, tears began to run down his face, and before he knew it, sobs racked his body more violently than the poison ever had. An emptiness filled him, one as black as tar and even more suffocating. His world was devoid of light, of air. It was a thing of nothingness and death.

  “Everard?” Launce called, but Ever ignored him.

  This woman was his beacon. She was the voice of purity when the siren call of his own demons haunted him. No one else had been able to reach him when he had been in his darkest days. Not even Garin had touched his soul like she had. The memory of the night before floated before his eyes. It had only been hours ago that her arms h
ad held him, her slender hands tracing the contours of his face as she whispered, “I love you,” over and over again. He could have... should have loved her more. Four years wasn’t enough, not with all of the wrongs he still had to right. He still needed to tell her he loved her one more time.

  If only Sacha had killed him, too.

  “Let’s give your father a few minutes alone,” Ever heard Launce say in a low voice. He felt Henri rise, as if being pulled.

  “But she’s not dead!”

  Ever looked up to see the boy staring at Isa with a slight frown on his face. “Henri,” he tried to speak through his tears, as he knew Isa would want him to do, “she’s not breathing.” It felt like death to say that.

  “But there’s power still inside of her. I can feel it!” And before Launce could grab him again, Henri had shrugged out of Launce’s grip and threw himself down beside Isa’s body. “We just need to pull her out.” He stretched his hand out over Isa’s heart, then looked at Ever, his thin face falling a bit. “I still don’t know how to control my fire like you do.”

  Ever stared at Henri in disbelief. Was the boy telling him he’d missed his wife’s spark? Ever wanted to retort to the boy that this was foolishness, and that he was just holding on to a dangerous, damning hope. But just as he was about to say as much, Henri touched Isa’s hand, and a green mist filled the boy’s eyes.

  Ever moved so quickly he nearly toppled. Shaking, he held his hand over her heart. Sure enough, when he closed his eyes to focus, the slightest ember still burned within her. “Take her hand!” Ever ordered the boy as he scrambled to lift her head up. “On my command, press your fire into the palm of her hand!”