by Jim C. Hines
“At first I thought she was the fairy queen herself, come to watch my death. Instead, Roudette dragged me from the edge, then turned to await the wolves. She . . . quieted them somehow, almost as if she were talking to them. Like my stepsister used to do with her vermin.”
Charlotte touched the scars on her face. “The wolves allowed us to pass. Roudette led us from the maze, the wolves following her. We soon reached the goblin encampment at the hedge. It was the goblins who recognized her, calling her by name. Until that moment I had no idea who she was. The goblins tried to flee. Some escaped. The rest fell to Roudette and the wolves. She left only one alive, forcing him to guide us through the hedge.”
Danielle closed her eyes, remembering her own journey through that hedge and the goblin who had helped them, though she had never been able to recall his name. She prayed he had been among those who escaped.
“Roudette’s cape is magical,” Snow said. “She used it to transform herself into a wolf. That must be how she controlled the queen’s animals.”
“I’ve already sent word to the guards to watch for wolves,” Talia added.
“Good.” Beatrice studied Charlotte for a long time before asking, “You and Roudette traveled together from Fairytown to Stone Grove. What can you tell us of her? How did she behave? What did she say to you?”
Charlotte’s chains clanked as she massaged her shoulder. “She wanted to know about Danielle. How she and her friends rescued Armand from the Duchess. Whether Danielle would truly want to save me, and if I thought she would bring her friends. After that, she barely spoke to me.”
Snow cleared her throat. “With Your Majesties’ permission?” She waited for the king’s nod, then said, “Roudette expected you to perform some task to help her. What was it?”
“I was supposed to identify Talia.”
“You’re lying.” Danielle studied her stepsister. Charlotte had never been one for subtlety or hiding her emotions, but two years in Fairytown had changed her. Growing up, Danielle had learned quickly to read her stepsisters’ moods, knowing when to carry out her chores in silence and when to avoid them at all costs.
This was different. Charlotte was scared but also resigned. The woman Danielle remembered would have been weeping or begging, or ranting against the injustice of it all. “Roudette fought Talia once before,” Danielle said. “She wouldn’t need your help in recognizing her.”
She stepped down from the dais, crossing the throne room to stand before her stepsister. Charlotte’s eyes were red and shadowed. She appeared ready to pass out from exhaustion, but her expression was pleading.
“What did they do to you?” Danielle whispered. Charlotte said nothing, not even watching as Danielle circled her. “Let us help you.”
“You can’t.” Charlotte wiped her nose on her sleeve, then hastily tugged the shoulder of her gown back into place.
If Danielle hadn’t been watching her stepsister so closely, she would have missed it. She reached out, and Charlotte tensed. Danielle grabbed Charlotte’s torn collar and pulled, exposing a faded strawberry mark on the skin. “Two years ago Stacia and the Duchess gave you this mark to prevent you from betraying them.”
“Yes,” said Charlotte.
“I remember that mark being smaller.”
Charlotte shivered, but said nothing more. If she had been bound by a fairy mark, she wouldn’t be able to speak of it. The penalties for breaking such a bond were limited only by the creativity of the one who cast it, and fairies were unmatched when it came to inventing cruel new torments.
“Isn’t that clever,” Snow said, moving closer to study the mark. She pressed her fingernail to the edge. “A second curse placed over the first to conceal it. I wonder if the first retains its magic.”
“Can you remove it?” asked Beatrice.
“The mark or the shoulder?”
Charlotte whimpered and backed away, keeping Danielle between herself and Snow.
“Relax,” said Snow. “Even if we cut off the shoulder, it wouldn’t solve anything. That mark is only the external sign of the curse flowing through your blood.” She beckoned for Father Isaac to approach. “What do you think? I’d want Trittibar’s help, of course.”
For the first time, Charlotte appeared hopeful. She reached for Danielle’s arm.
Talia’s heel slammed into Charlotte’s chest, knocking her to the floor.
“She wasn’t trying to hurt me.” Danielle crouched beside Charlotte, who was gasping for breath.
“Would you gamble your life on that?” Talia’s expression made it clear she would happily pound Charlotte into the floor if she so much as twitched.
The king rose. “Do what you can to remove the mark. If she’s cursed, we can trust nothing she says until that curse is broken.”
“Did Roudette ever say who hired her to kill me?” Talia hadn’t asked for leave to speak, but it was clear King Theodore tolerated such outbursts from Beatrice’s closest servants and companions. Chancellor Crombie’s scowl was the only apparent sign of disapproval.
Charlotte swallowed. “Yesterday afternoon. Roudette had just returned. There was fresh blood on her cape, and she was in a good mood. She even offered me food.” She turned away, hiding her face. “I offered to pay her whatever she wanted if she’d free me.”
“Pay her with what?” Danielle asked. She had to strain to hear Charlotte’s reply.
“I told her you would pay.” Charlotte steeled herself. “I told her you were soft, that you lacked the spine to turn your back on your stepsister, no matter what I had done.”
Snow coughed and turned away, but not before Danielle saw her smirk.
Queen Beatrice jabbed her staff against the floor. “Tell us what you learned from Roudette.”
“She was leaning over a hollowed stump,” said Charlotte. “She sprinkled something yellow inside. I can’t cast spells, but I can feel them sometimes. This felt like she was making a potion. She started speaking to the stump.”
Father Isaac turned to the king and queen. “It rained two nights ago. A hollow stump of stone would still hold water. She could have been using it as a scrying pool.”
Charlotte nodded eagerly. “I couldn’t understand the language. She kept saying ‘tav.’ ”
Talia moved closer. “Tiav?” she asked, stretching out the vowels.
“Yes.” Charlotte looked from Talia to Danielle. “What does it mean?”
“It’s Arathean,” said Talia. “It means ‘soon.’ What else did she say?”
Charlotte shook her head miserably. “How would I know?”
“Talia?” Danielle reached out, but Talia slapped her hand away.
The guards started forward, looking uncertain. Talia didn’t even appear to realize what she had done.
“No,” said Danielle, waving them back. “It’s all right.”
Talia punched a hand to her palm and took a deep breath. “Did Roudette ever say the name Lakhim?”
“I don’t think so.”
Talia relaxed slightly. “What about Mutal or Mahatal?”
Charlotte nodded eagerly. “Yes! I remember, near the end!”
Beatrice inhaled sharply. Even Snow appeared sober. They were both staring at Talia, whose face had gone pale.
“Mutal and Mahatal ela’Ghelib,” said Beatrice.
“Oh, Talia.” Danielle recognized the names now, though Talia had never spoken them in her presence. Mutal and Mahatal were the twin princes of Arathea. The sons of Sleeping Beauty.
“They’re the men who hired Roudette?” asked Charlotte.
“Not men, but boys.” Beatrice pushed herself to her feet. “Arathea has sent an assassin against our household.”
For the first time, Chancellor Crombie rose to speak. “We have no proof,” he said hesitantly. “The word of a condemned criminal is hardly adequate grounds for such an accusation.”
“I’m telling the truth,” Charlotte shouted. She flushed and lowered her head. “Believe me or don’t. I don’t care. Ju
st get this damned mark off of me.”
“I believe you,” Danielle said softly. She glanced at the king, who nodded. To Father Isaac, she said, “Would you and Snow please do what you can to remove the curse?”
“What then?” asked Charlotte warily, showing hints of her old self.
Danielle watched the king, but he held his silence, allowing her to answer. “Once they’ve removed the curse and you’ve told us everything you know, I want you gone from Lorindar. Forever.”
Charlotte’s face reddened. For a moment, Danielle thought she might actually start shouting as she had done in the past. Instead, she whispered, “Thank you.” She spun toward Snow. “You heard her. Remove this thing at once!”
Danielle spotted Talia disappearing out the doors. Danielle bowed hastily to the king and queen before hurrying after.
“Where are you going?” Snow asked.
“To stop Talia from doing something foolish.”
Danielle hated visiting Talia’s room in the palace. Most of the senior servants shared quarters in the base of the northwest tower. Talia and Snow were among the few to have their own rooms, courtesy of Beatrice. Snow’s room was a carefully cultivated masterpiece of clutter, with a few small magical traps scattered throughout to turn away anyone who got too nosey.
Talia’s room was the opposite. Small but tidy, with a folded cot that never saw use, it was little better than a closet. She deserved so much more, but every time Danielle raised the subject, Talia brushed her off.
Danielle found Talia removing her clothes from a small trunk, laying each garment into one of three piles on the floor. Talia didn’t bother looking up. “You make too much noise when you walk, Princess. That scabbard slaps your leg with every step. Remind me to adjust the straps before I go.”
“You’re not leaving,” said Danielle.
“Roudette got away. She’ll keep coming for me.”
“You fought her before,” Danielle pointed out.
“It doesn’t matter.” There was no fight left in Talia’s words. “Queen Lakhim knows where I am. If not Roudette, she’ll send someone else. She’ll keep trying, and she won’t care who gets caught in the bloodshed.”
Danielle pulled the door shut behind her. Sunlight squeezed through a narrow window on the far wall. “They’re your sons. Surely we can talk to Arathea, explain—”
“Mutal and Mahatal are seven . . . no, eight years of age. Roudette might have been hired on their authority, promised their gold, but the order came from their grandmother. Lakhim won’t stop until I’ve paid for the murder of her son.”
Danielle sat down beside her. “It wasn’t murder. What he did to you—”
“You think she cares? Prince Jihab was her only son.” She stumbled ever so slightly over the name. “I cut his throat while he slept. I thought it poetic, considering what he did to me during mine. With him gone, his mother rules as haishak—as regent—until her grandsons come of age.” Talia tossed a sash onto the closest pile. She stared at the pile, looking lost. “My own sons, and I can’t even remember what they looked like.”
Danielle picked up the sash and began refolding it. Talia might be fairy-blessed, but her gifts didn’t extend to laundry.
“I remember their crying,” Talia said. “Sometimes I think that’s what woke me from the curse. Not the pain of childbirth, but the crying.” She pushed back the mattress on the cot, and dust wafted through the air. She snatched a long dagger from beneath the mattress and tucked it beside her clothes. “I can’t tell you what they looked like, but I remember their father. I remember his triumph when he returned to claim me. His prize, Princess Talia Malak-el-Dahshat. His family’s key to the throne of Arathea. I killed him, Danielle. No treaty gives Lorindar the right to shelter a prince’s killer.”
“So we’ll write a new treaty,” Danielle said.
That earned a weak smile. Talia reached into the trunk and pulled out a long-stemmed pipe. She held it to the light, inspecting the carved ivory bowl and the curved wooden stem before returning it to its case. “In Arathea, family comes before all. I’m only surprised it took them so long to find me.”
“What about Snow?”
“We both know there’s no happy ending to that tale. It’s past time for me to move on.” The tightness in Talia’s shoulders belied her casual tone. “She’s been uncomfortable with me for a while now.”
“I never told her how you felt about her,” Danielle said.
“I know.” Talia pulled a makeshift stiletto from the bottom of the trunk. Made of a thick metal spike with frayed twine covering the lower half, it was far from intimidating. “I made this in Arathea from a stolen tent peg. Three times it saved my life.”
Danielle stood, trying to ignore the emptiness in her chest. Talia was one of her closest friends. One of her only friends, really. The life of a princess didn’t lend itself to trusting relationships. “You can’t leave. You swore an oath to serve Beatrice, remember?”
“Beatrice is dying,” Talia said flatly. “I serve her best by eliminating Roudette and by making sure nobody else is drawn into my feud with Arathea.”
“What do I tell Jakob?” Danielle asked. “How do I answer when he asks why Aunt Tala had to go away?”
“Low blow, Princess.”
“You’re the one who taught me to fight.” Danielle forced a smile. “Talia, please give us a chance. Let Theodore and Beatrice talk to Arathea.”
Talia looked past her, toward the door. Footsteps hurried through the hallway, stopping outside. Talia rose, tent stake knife clutched behind her back.
“Princess Danielle?”
“Nicolette?” Danielle rose to open the door.
“The queen said I’d find you here.” Nicolette was out of breath, her hair a sweaty mess. Bloody scratches marked her neck, and her lip was swollen. “Jakob’s run off, Highness.”
“What happened to you?” Danielle asked.
Nicolette touched her face. “Jakob was playing some sort of hiding game, but I’m afraid it frightened the others, and that scared him in turn. All of a sudden they were screaming and running every which way. I scooped him up, and he hammered me good with his forehead.” She licked her swollen lip. “I handed him off to Marguerite so I could try to contain the rest, but he managed to slip away from her.”
“Talia, will you help us look?” Danielle asked innocently. “Jakob might come out for his Aunt Tala.”
Talia narrowed her eyes. “You don’t need me. There are only so many nooks and corners a boy his age could get to.”
“What was the game?” If Danielle knew what Jakob was playing, it might help her figure out where he’d gone.
“I’m not sure,” said Nicolette. “Something about hiding from the wolves.”
Danielle grabbed Nicolette’s arm. She tried to keep her voice calm, though her heart was pounding. “How was Jakob acting? Was he laughing, or did he appear serious?”
“He wasn’t laughing.” Nicolette stared, alarm in her eyes as she took in Danielle’s reaction. “What is it, Princess?”
“He’s Beatrice’s grandson. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s shown signs of her gifts.” Danielle started to run. “Get the children inside. All of them.”
Talia was already keeping pace beside her. “It makes no sense for Roudette to come here. She knows she can’t enter the palace without being caught.”
Danielle hurried up the steps. “How long would it take Roudette to reach the palace from Stone Grove?”
They froze as they entered the courtyard. The howls were faint, but the sound raised goose bumps on Danielle’s skin.
Talia swore. “Not long at all.”
CHAPTER 6
IF ANYTHING COULD HAVE HELPED to clear Talia’s mind, it was the arrival of an enemy to fight. She was almost grateful to Roudette for the distraction.
She stepped in front of Danielle and searched the courtyard. The wolves sounded as though they were running through the city streets. She heard screams as well.
The palace staff were looking about in confusion.
“Get inside,” Talia shouted, pushing the closest toward the door. She waved to get the attention of the guards atop the wall. When that failed, she scooped a piece of stone from the ground beside the wall and threw. It clanged from the closest man’s helm.
“What in God’s name—” The guard straightened, spotting Danielle.
“Bar the gates,” Talia shouted. “Make sure the king and queen are safe!”
He started to argue, took another look at Danielle’s expression, and made for the gates.
“You too, Princess,” said Talia.
“Jakob is out here.” Danielle didn’t even bother to stare her down. She simply shoved past Talia and shouted for her son.
“Talia!” Snow was running from the chapel. “Roudette is on her way.”
“We know.” Talia jabbed a finger at Danielle. “Her son already warned us.”
“Unfair!” Snow stopped. “I spent hours working on those wards, and Jakob spots her before I do?”
“Jakob’s hiding,” said Danielle, running toward the storeroom. She was keeping her fear under control, but Talia could hear the panic in her voice. “Can you find him?”
“Maybe,” said Snow. “But he knows where my mirrors are placed. Remember the last time he hid from us, after he threw your husband’s shoes into the well? The kid’s too smart for his own good.”
Talia moved into the center of the courtyard. She turned slowly, listening as she tried to understand what Roudette was doing. After all of her work to lure Talia out into the open, why risk everything by attacking the palace directly?
Screams and snarls broke out closer to the gate. A dog’s barks changed to whimpers, then fell silent. The wolves were almost here.