by Jim C. Hines
Snow’s breath caught. She leaned closer, pain forgotten in her excitement. Why had she never seen it before? “The fairy lied. That last wish wasn’t supposed to break the curse. It dispersed it!”
Roudette’s lips pulled back in a grimace. “Instead of killing you, the curse blanketed the palace. Everyone within the fairy hedge slept for a hundred years, all triggered by the prick of a spindle.”
“By a zaraq whip,” Talia corrected her. “An assassin’s weapon. The tip was poisoned.”
“Who made that poison?” Roudette asked. “What mortal toxin could plunge an entire palace into a century of cursed sleep?”
“You’re saying the fairies planned this,” Snow breathed, awestruck by the elegance of the plan. “The final two fairies worked together to prepare their curse.”
“The assassin was human,” Talia protested. “He was—”
“He was a fairy slave.” Roudette rose, ignoring the weapons pointed at her. “They wouldn’t have sent one of their own, knowing what was to come. Why condemn even the lowest fairy to such a curse when a human would do the same for mere gold?”
“Why?” asked Danielle. “What would they gain from such a spell?”
“Chaos.” Talia stepped back. She kept her knife ready, but her gaze was elsewhere. “In a single day, they removed the entire ruling line of Arathea.”
“One hundred years of war and rebellion and death,” Snow whispered, thinking back to the history of Arathea. “Leaving fairykind free to do whatever they wished.”
“It’s worse,” said Talia. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the knife. “For the next hundred years, every family with a drop of royal blood sent their sons and brothers to try to penetrate the hedge. All died, impaled upon the thorns. They eliminated my family, and then they removed every male heir who might have taken the throne and reunited Arathea.”
“And who helped to save your land from that century of darkness?” Roudette asked. There was no mockery or cruelty in her tone. She appeared almost as pained by the revelation as Talia. “Who spread throughout Arathea to help the poor humans, to build new cities, to advise the tribes and factions?”
“The fairies,” Talia whispered.
Snow turned toward Jahrasima. History described the lake cities of Arathea as gifts, but few fairy gifts were truly free. More than half of Arathea’s population lived in these nine fairy-built cities. Within each one, fairy advisors stood behind every ruler, guiding their path.
“Do you remember what it was like when you awoke?” Roudette pressed. “How deeply they had infiltrated your culture? Today the lowest fairy is higher than any human. But it’s not enough. Despise your mother-in-law if you’d like, but she’s managed to unify this country under human rule again. For that alone, the fairies would see her dead. Her and all her kin. Or if not dead, at least removed from power. Eliminated just as your own family was.”
“The curse.” Talia stared at her hands.
“The fairies mean to use you against Lakhim,” Roudette said. “To trigger your curse a second time. I was to bring you to Lakhim. Alive if possible, so her sages could study your curse. Dead if necessary.”
“Why kill Talia?” Danielle asked. “If Lakhim discovered this plot, why not kill the fairies behind it?”
“They’ve tried,” said Roudette. “A century ago, such a plan might have worked. The fairy who cursed Talia was hunted by the people and burned to death. But today, Lakhim wouldn’t dare move openly against the ‘saviors of Arathea.’ ”
“So why not cast a new curse?” Snow asked.
“That has been tried as well,” said Roudette. “Time and again, without success. With one of the original fairies dead and Talia gone, they’ve been unable to duplicate the exact spells used in her curse. They will do anything to claim her.”
Snow shook her head. “The Duchess prepared the fairy sprite you meant to use. Why would she work against her own kind?”
“Fairies are no more united than humans.” Roudette spat. “In this land, they say fairies are creatures of fire who betrayed the gods and were banished from Heaven. They were born of treachery. Don’t ask me to understand their twisted alliances and betrayals. I was told the Duchess would help. I didn’t question what she would receive in return.”
Talia was staring toward the city. She didn’t appear to be listening, but when Roudette fell silent, Talia whispered, “Who leads the fairies in Arathea?”
Roudette pushed Danielle’s sword away. “The one you want is called Zestan-e-Jheg. Spare my life, and I’ll help you kill her.”
CHAPTER 7
ROUDETTE SAT BOUND BY THE THIN LINE of Talia’s zaraq whip. Testing the whip had done nothing but cut her wrists, so now she waited in silence as they debated her fate. She might have been able to break the whip, but Talia was watching her. By the time Roudette freed herself, Talia would have planted one knife in Roudette’s chest and would be throwing the second.
So she waited. Waited and listened, using the wolf’s senses.
“Roudette is a murderer,” Danielle was saying. “How many people has she killed today alone?”
Snow chuckled. “When Danielle Whiteshore says you can’t trust someone, it’s time to listen.”
“She’s telling the truth about what the fairies did to me. What they did to Arathea.” Talia’s eyes narrowed as she watched Roudette. Did she suspect Roudette could hear them? Talia lowered her voice further. “I can’t let it happen again.”
If Roudette were in their place, she knew what her answer would be. Faith and trust got you killed, and Talia knew exactly how dangerous Roudette could be.
Death didn’t bother her. Roudette had accepted the possibility of death the first time she donned the wolfskin, the same day she killed for the first time. What frightened her was the idea of dying without being able to finish this final task. Talia held the key to everything Roudette had worked for these past thirty years, but if she fell into Zestan’s hands, all Arathea would suffer.
“What about a binding?” asked Danielle. “The spell Snow used on Rumpelstilzchen kept him under control.”
The hair on Roudette’s neck and arms rose. Not since she was a child had she allowed magic to be used upon her.
“Even with a binding, I don’t trust her,” said Snow.
“Neither do I.” Talia was watching Roudette’s face. “But you saw the way she spoke of the fairies. I trust her hate.”
That seemed to settle the matter. Talia held her sword ready as Danielle approached to say, “You have a choice. Accept Snow’s spell, which will bind you to your word. Or refuse and accept the punishment for your actions.”
In other circumstances, Roudette might have chosen death. Instead, she stood and pushed back the shoulders of her cape, exposing herself to Snow’s magic.
Snow placed a thumb in the hollow of Roudette’s collarbone. Roudette’s skin grew cold, then numb. A thread of smoke rose from beneath Snow’s thumb, smelling of new-forged metal.
“By this mark, I charge you to protect the three of us with your life,” Snow said. “You will not raise a hand against us, nor will you allow us to come to harm. Your contract with Queen Lakhim is broken. When Zestan is dealt with, you will surrender yourself to Lorindar. At no time will you stray more than fifty paces from either myself, Danielle, or Talia. Should you break this bond, your blood shall boil within your body.”
Danielle grimaced. “That’s a little gruesome, don’t you think?”
“It’s a standard fairy clause,” Snow said. To Roudette, she asked, “Do you accept this mark?”
The tip of Talia’s sword pressing against her neck left little choice. “Yes.”
The skin of her collarbone burned to life, but even as Roudette yanked away, the pain was dying. Roudette used her bound hands to pull back her shirt, examining the mark.
A spot of silver the size of Snow’s thumb marred her skin. Roudette dug a fingernail into the mark, and was rewarded by a dark crescent of blood. Gouging the
skin wouldn’t remove the spell beneath. Wordlessly, she extended her hands. Talia untied the whip.
“You didn’t ask for how long,” Danielle said softly.
Roudette tilted her head. “Excuse me?”
“Most people, upon being given such a curse, would want to know how long it would last. How many years you would remain our prisoner, and whether you would ever be given your freedom.”
Danielle was more perceptive than Roudette had realized. “Most people spend too much time thinking about what is to come. I trust my path will lead me where I’m meant to go.”
They didn’t return her hammer, but Roudette hadn’t expected them to. It made little difference. Roudette could kill almost as effectively with her bare hands. She pulled her cape back into place. The runes on the cape protected her from external magic, but the fairy mark was within her now. The cape couldn’t remove it.
But it might slow the effects. Not for very long, but perhaps it would be enough to do what she must.
She watched Snow and Danielle closely. She knew Talia, but these two were new. Danielle appeared soft, yet she hadn’t hesitated to join the battle back at Whiteshore Palace, even though Roudette could have killed her as swiftly as a thought. As for Snow, her magic had held off fairy wolves and diverted a fairy ring, two things Roudette had thought impossible.
They were an impressive team. It was a shame she would have to destroy them.
Danielle sat with her back to a tree as she waited for the mirror on her bracelet to respond to her kiss. Talia had left them at the edge of the lake, where the thicker trees and grasses provided cover from the dust and wind, not to mention concealing them from the city.
“Danielle?” Prince Armand looked up at her from the tiny mirror. “Are you all right? What happened? Where did you—”
“We’re safe,” Danielle said. “We’re in Arathea, outside the city of Jahrasima. Talia has gone ahead to find us a place to stay. Is Jakob—”
“He’s here with me,” said Armand, tilting the mirror so Danielle could see her son. “He wants to know when you’re coming home.”
“As soon as I can. I promise.” Danielle braced herself. “Armand, what of Charlotte?”
“Dead.” Armand’s voice was cold. “According to witnesses, it was a quick death.”
Tears filled her eyes. Roudette had said as much, but still Danielle had hoped that somehow Charlotte might have survived. Even though Charlotte had always hated Danielle, she had also been the last survivor of Danielle’s childhood, the only piece of her former life. “Before the fairy ring took us, Jakob said Father Isaac had been hurt.”
“Burned, but he’ll survive.” He was choosing his words carefully, trying not to upset Jakob. “The protective spells in the chapel saved his life. The sprite couldn’t attack him, but its mere presence was enough to set his robe afire. Tymalous is seeing to his care.”
“It wasn’t Charlotte’s fault,” Danielle said. “She controlled it as long as she could.”
Armand didn’t answer.
Danielle watched Roudette pacing through the trees. “How many others were killed?”
Her anger grew as Armand recited the list of the dead. Eight guardsmen had died today, not including those killed earlier when Roudette attacked Rumpelstilzchen. Melvyn the rathunter and three of his dogs had also fallen to Roudette’s hammer. A young woman and her mother were killed by Roudette’s wolves at the southern gate. Eleven others had been injured and brought into the palace, where Tymalous was doing the best he could to keep them alive. “Father Isaac is helping as well, against Tymalous’ orders.”
This wasn’t the first time Danielle had faced death, but rarely had it felt so casual. Roudette killed without a thought, disposing of anyone with the ill fortune to get between her and her target. “Roudette is bound by Snow’s magic. She’ll return with us to Lorindar, and she will pay for what she’s done.”
“When?” asked Armand. “I can send Captain Hephyra and the Phillipa to wait for you. If you’re in Jahrasima, that puts you in the central region of northern Arathea. You’ll have to make your way to—”
“There’s more.” Danielle told him what they had learned about Zestan-e-Jheg and Talia’s fairy curse.
Armand’s image grew as he brought his mirror closer. “Your friend Talia is under sentence of death. By Arathean law, anyone who aids a murderer shares in that person’s guilt. If Talia is caught, you could all be executed.” He spoke in a whisper, trying to keep Jakob from overhearing.
“What would you have me do?” Danielle asked. “Turn my back on my friend and flee to Lorindar?”
“Yes!” He sighed. “And I know you won’t. Promise me you’ll be careful, love. Arathea sent an assassin to Lorindar. They want Talia badly enough to risk war. They won’t hesitate to kill you as well.”
“I promise,” Danielle said.
“Remember who you are. If anyone learns the Princess of Lorindar has directly involved herself in this conflict, the consequences could be far- reaching, and not just from Arathea.”
Danielle smiled. “I wasn’t planning to wander about in my crown and glass slippers.”
“Thus far, Arathea refuses to admit any knowledge of Roudette or her mission,” said Armand. “We will continue to press them. For now, please try not to start any wars while you’re there.”
“I’ll do my best. And I’ll be home as soon as I can.” She smiled as Armand handed his mirror to Jakob, and planted a loud kiss on the glass.
“I love you both,” she said, returning the kiss. When she pulled away, the glass showed only her reflection.
Under different circumstances, Talia might have felt guilty as she lowered the farmhand’s body into the mud. He would have a nasty headache when he awoke.
She crouched beside him, hiding behind the grain and counting slowly to herself as she waited to make sure nobody had heard. When she reached a count of twenty, she began stripping the man of his clothes. They were a little large, but that would work to her advantage. She pulled the trousers on over her own garments. The shirt followed, though she had to hack off the ends of the sleeves to keep her hands free. Smears of dirt and mud finished the job, turning her from a palace servant of Lorindar into another filthy peasant. It wouldn’t pass a close inspection, but hopefully nobody would pay that much attention.
She froze as one of the man’s companions passed by, whistling as he dredged the irrigation ditch a short distance away. Talia waited for him to pass, then dragged the body deeper into the field. She whispered into her bracelet, a twin to the one Danielle wore. “Snow, I’ve got a body for you to take care of.”
“Already?”
“I could dump him in the lake to drown, but Danielle would probably complain.” She yanked her sleeve down and made her way toward the road, easily avoiding the other farmhands.
Her entire body felt tight, braced against old memories as she stepped into the open. The damp earth changed to stone beneath her feet. The air was deliciously dry in her nostrils, carrying the sweet scent of freshly tilled earth. The crops wouldn’t be ready for months, but somehow the air smelled green and alive.
The roads into the city were built like wide stone walls cutting through the lake. Archways far below were said to allow the water to flow freely, but few humans were mad enough to dive in to find out for certain. Some said strange creatures inhabited the deeper water of the lake.
Like a fisherman’s hook, the smallest things drew remembrances from her past. The reeds growing along the edges of the path as she crossed the lake. The same swordlike fronds had grown in the pools back at her palace. As a child she had liked to play in the water, picking the waxy red teacup flowers for her mother.
The lake lapped the stones on either side of the road, reminding her of the last time she had walked this path. That had been at night, the starlight reflecting off the canals behind her.
She hadn’t planned to kill Prince Jihab. From the time she staggered out through the hedge, it had been as
though some part of her still slept under the fairy curse. She stumbled through the following days in shock, not knowing from one day to the next whether this was real or a nightmare. Her family was gone, her sons’ cries echoed in her ears, and then Jihab and Lakhim had arrived to take them back to their palace.
How long would she have remained in that trance if Jihab hadn’t come to her bed that night, meaning to claim her once again? In a way, the stories were true. Prince Jihab had awakened her. Not with a kiss but by shocking her into action.
She remembered sneaking from the palace, climbing out the window, and making her way along the walls. She made it to the edge of town before the alarm bells began to ring. There she found a farmer preparing to transport cattle to Jahrasima, four days south. All the gold she had taken when she fled went to pay for her safe passage.
They were stopped three times on the way to Jahrasima, but nobody discovered her. Even with their prince dead, few soldiers were loyal enough to dig through a wagon full of cow dung to discover the girl huddled beneath, protected by a heavy canvas tarp and breathing through the cracks at the bottom of the wagon.
Talia shuddered. The putrid scent had lingered in her hair and skin for days, no matter how hard she scrubbed.
Blue light blossomed in the water beside her. Talia glanced down to see a glowing serpent swimming through the reeds. A jaan, a fairy creature who lived in the water. They were said to bring good fortune to those who fed them, but Talia had nothing to give.
She had never believed that superstition. More likely, feeding the jaan was a way to keep them trained. These creatures guarded the city gates as much as the uniformed men on the far side of the road. Anyone trying to swim across the lake would find himself surrounded by eager jaan, their glowing bodies illuminating the intruder for all to see.
Not that many people worried about the south road. This was the least traveled of the four roads, leading to the poorest part of Jahrasima. The gatehouse was in poor repair, as were most of the buildings beyond. Even from here Talia could see where one home had crumbled to the onslaught of time and overgrown grapevines.