The Cinderella Coup (Revved Up Fairy Tales Book 2)

by Diana Flame

  Closing her eyes, Olga began to breathe deeply while her lips moved. She remained like that for a long time until her eyes popped open. Her wide eyes now stared at the shiny surface of the black stone. A sharp intake of breath was the only indication that she might have seen something. The moment quickly passed as Olga’s shoulders sagged and she sighed.

  “What did thee see?” Isolde anxiously inquired.

  “Nothin’… not a blinking thing!”

  “Do it again,” Isolde begged.

  “Not with thee around. Go pick oferacs or somethin’ and I will try again,” Olga replied.

  Chapter 5

  While Galien was in his partial bear state, Hughoc began to retreat, calling on the soldiers to start a battle. Galien transformed into his human state quickly to join the fight. He could have defeated a huge number and reduce the size of the enemy as The Creature, but he didn’t want to defeat them in that manner. He wanted to defeat them as Prince Galien.

  While the battle commenced inside the palace, the party attendees dispersed, not going too far from the palace gates. As word circled through the kingdom that The Creature had returned to take the palace, the good men of Izadel gathered their farm tools and hidden weapons to join the battle against a king that had brought nothing but fear.

  Everyone knew what Hughoc had done to the beloved King Reginald; they just could not prove it. Now, they thought it was their chance to avenge the death of their king and queen and to help restore the kingdom to its rightful heir… a creature or not.

  Soldiers gathered outside the palace gates to fend off the incoming peasants armed with pitchforks and various other farm implements. Some carried weapons such as swords, crossbows, and a few hunters brought spears.

  The night was dark as there was no moon. Torches and lanterns lit the square and gate. The glow from the flames reflected off the angry faces of the newcomers, as their path was obstructed by the guards.

  Some shuffled impatiently as others growled angrily. Someone, of whom no one was certain, threw a torch in the midst of the royal guards. The movements from the guards triggered the villagers to move in. A melee broke out once the two groups of men met with weapons drawn.

  One soldier who had served King Reginald, hollered to his men, “Why are we fighting these men?”

  Another soldier replied, “I do not know. They look dangerous.”

  “Who should I pledge my allegiance to?” The soldier asked.

  For a moment, the fighting halted as his voice carried above the clash of metal. Faces looked at each other in confusion. There were swords, pitchforks, and other weapons hanging midair as they all waited, cocked and ready to resume fighting.

  “King Reginald was a great king. He treated us well,” the soldier who first spoke now stated. “I will pledge my loyalty to his son.”

  Another soldier raised his sword in a threatening manner. “This is treason. I arrest thee in the name of the king!”

  “Thou foolish man,” the first soldier replied. “Cannot thee see that the kingdom as we know it will fall and in its place shall rise a new king?”

  Gradually the soldiers separated. Some stood with the people of the land while the others clustered together in support of the cruel King Hughoc.

  “We shall fight for our new king, Galien!” someone shouted from the crowd.

  “Galien! Galien! Galien!” they chanted as the fight resumed.

  Metal clashed against metal as the men closed in on the palace soldiers. The guests, who had exited the mansion earlier due to the tension inside, looked on with much anticipation. They each had their own thoughts and wishes as to what they wanted to happen.

  However, nothing could prepare them for what happened next. As the battle progressed, a dark cloud rolled in over the palace, obscuring the stars in the sky. A flash of lightning hit the gate, sending sparks flying everywhere. Terror tore through some of the fighters, causing them to halt and step back from their opponents.

  A mist rose up in the midst of them. The fighting ceased as the men stumbled back. Some guards held their weapons out defensively while the mist thickened like gray smoke. Gradually, the mist began to take the shape of a human.

  Mouths gaped, breaths stopped and eyes gorged at the sight. The figure from the mist seemed to be absorbing the fog like a sponge absorbing water. What remained was a woman in a long black satin gown. Her hair was as black as raven and so were her eyes. Her creamy skin was a stark contrast against the dark of her garment.

  “Marge, the witch,” someone gasped. “She’s back!”

  “I am free at last,” the woman said, her voice as smooth as silk.

  As though gliding on ice, she turned and began moving towards the palace gates. The guards took a few seconds to regain some composure and when they did, they blocked her path.

  “Out of my way,” Marge gently commanded. “Doth thee know who I am?”

  One guard bravely inched forward on shaky knees. He stuttered over his words. “M-m-ma’am, n-no one is a-allowed to enter the p-p-alace.”

  “Is that so?” Marge asked, grinning as she glided close to the young guard. He stumbled back, almost falling over his companions.

  “Stand hence Mistress, or I shall be forced to use my sword!” he yelled, his voice somewhat stilted.

  Throwing her head back, Marge let out a shrill laugh. Marge’s laughter pierced the night air like a screaming chimpanzee. The sound was not merry and it brought dread to the men.

  Her laughter died just as quickly as it began and she advanced with a wooden face and glow in her eyes. With a wave of her hand, the sword in the guard’s hand, dislodge and zinged through the air, landing some distance away. Another wave of her hand and the same guard joined his sword on the ground after being lifted by some unknown force and carried through the air like paper in the wind.

  The other guards ran in all directions, leaving the gate unattended. This pleased Marge by the broad smile that appeared on her face. Marge waved her hand yet once again. This time the huge iron gate detached from its hinge on the gatepost, flew through the night air and disappeared into the darkness.

  Enlarged eyes watched Marge’s tricks in horror. When she was inside the palace, the guards followed some pace behind her, wanting to fulfill their duty. Most of all, they were curious to know what she would do once she was inside. When she reached the other set of guards at the door, she brushed them aside much the same as she did the one at the gate. After clearing her path, she entered the great hall.

  At this time, King Hughoc and his soldiers faced Galien along with those who pledged their service to the new Prince. The large double door opened with a bang. A rush of cold wind entered the great room followed by Marge, a tail of gray mist trailing behind her.

  Gasps sounded around the room. Those who did not utter a sound gawked at the great evil witch. Cinderella’s eyes raked over the woman and as though sensing the scrutiny, Marge settled her eyes on her. Instinctively, Galien pushed Cinderella behind him, blocking her from Marge’s stare.

  After the shock of Marge’s entry, Hughoc rushed to confront the witch. “Where have thou been all this time? Why have thee not completed the job?”

  “I was inconveniently detained, Dear King,” she replied in a sarcastic manner.

  “Finish him this instant!” The king ordered.

  Without a response, Marge turned to where Galien stood. Soldiers surrounded him, wanting to protect the Prince. Marge brought up both her hands, stretching them forth before her. A strong gale-force wind came through the door, swirling around her. Onlookers shrank away, some disappearing into corners. She advanced and Galien stood his ground, his soldiers blocking the witch’s path.

  A white swirl began to take shape like a ball between her palms as she kept her arms stretched out in front of her. She then turned her palms upward, then outward. A mighty force, similar to the one Galien experienced earlier, rushed forward. Those in its path were sent sailing through the air. Marge gathered her power ball once mo
re, turned her palms up and out.

  Without a conscious thought as to what he was doing, Galien pulled his sword and held it up before him. A rush of current passed through him, igniting the weapon, it gleamed as though touched by fire. Marge’s power ball met a barrier when it reached Galien.

  “Wow!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know the sword could do that.”

  “I doth not think ‘tis the sword,” Cinderella said.

  “What dost thou mean?” he asked, blocking another of Marge’s onslaught.

  “’Tis thee,” Cinderella replied.

  Marge was advancing. Soldiers were being tossed aside with her power and Cinderella wanted to do something. Galien seemed troubled by the fact that Marge was hurting the soldiers. Therefore, he parted the remaining men and stepped in front of them.

  “Stand back,” he commanded the men. “This is my fight. Keep Cinderella safe!”

  Marge grinned when she thought she had a clear shot of the Prince. Her work was suddenly made easier, she might have thought. Now that she had a clear shot, her power balls were coming faster and more ferocious. Galien continued to block the blasts with his sword.

  Chapter 6

  The night had grown dark with a threat of rain. Ominous clouds blanketed the sky while lightning ripped the blackened sky. The lone rider pushed his steed ahead unto Padian. The wind took hold of his coat, flapping it behind him as the horse galloped onward.

  The messenger pulled up to the Padian palace gates as the sound of thunder ricocheted off the Forbidden Mountain. He jumped from his horse and ran up to the gate, which was heavily guarded.

  “I have a message for the king, let me through!” he yelled above the noise of the thunder.

  To hasten his entry, he showed them the royal letter with the seal of Izadel. The guards opened the gate, allowing him immediate entry. Once inside the courtyard, another guard led him inside the palace. When he was inside, The King’s most trusted minister escorted him to The King’s chambers.

  A forlorn figure laid on a bed of scarlet sheets. The frail figure with dark skin and white hair seemed to be lifeless. However, when the minister drew close to the bed the king’s eyes shot open.

  “Thy Highness, we have a messenger from Izadel,” the ministered spoke softly.

  A smile brightened The King’s face. “Read it to me.”

  The minister took the roll and unsealed it. He then opened the parchment.

  “The crown Prince has returned to the palace. The King of Izadel will be defeated,” the minister read aloud.

  “What does it say about my granddaughter?” the King asked impatiently.

  “The Princess is safe and is fighting alongside the Prince,” the minister replied.

  “Get my chariot ready and gather gifts. Prepare the fiercest soldiers in our army. We shall go to Izadel tonight.”

  “Thy Highness, should we not wait until morning?”

  “Nay, the time is now.”

  The minister nodded, “Aye, Thy Highness.”

  “Have the messenger wait and travel with us.”

  “Aye, Sire,” replied the minister before departing the bedchamber.

  The messenger didn’t have to wait long. The minister had everyone rushing around, preparing the king’s orders. Soon, the King came out of his room in a palanquin carried by four men. A large contingent preceded the King and his attendants, while an equal amount of guards followed behind.

  The dark clouds obscured the sky as thunder blasted across the mountains. The royal entourage moved quickly with torches and lanterns to light their path. They were at the edge of the Izadel kingdom when the first drops of icy rain pelted down fiercely upon them.

  The assembly continued forward, not stopping for anything. When they reached the Izadel palace gates, a crowd had gathered there. A mixture of fear and excitement was evident on the faces of the people of Izadel.

  The soldiers remaining outside the palace stood aside without contention to allow the Padian King and his men entry.

  * * *

  Cinderella saw that Galien was losing the battle as his energy was waning. His legs were becoming shaky and he staggered backward a few times. Absently her hand caressed her bow, as she inched away from the protection of the soldiers.

  Galien was growing increasingly frustrated as evident in his cries each time Marge struck. The center of the room was clear and they moved around in circles. This was one moment Cinderella wished Lenora was here to assist her. It seemed that Lenora held great powers that could perhaps defeat Marge.

  Galien’s shouts of frustration slowly turned into deep guttural sounds. Cinderella tried to move closer to him but the soldiers made a barrier that she found hard to break through.

  Marge sent another of her power balls, which hit Galien in the chest. It sent him skidding across the floor. She pounced before he could get a hold of himself, hitting him several times.

  “Nay!” Cinderella yelled, trying to break through the human barrier of soldiers. “Allow me through.”

  “’Tis not safe, My Lady.”

  A bloodcurdling howl ripped from Galien as he twisted on the floor. His arms bulged, splitting through his shirt. Not long after, his legs tore through his golden suit. The changes continued as his mouth grew into a snout while his hands and feet extended into bear claws. Along with the change came the growth of thick fur pushing through his skin.

  “Galien,” Cinderella breathed, her eyes widening at his transformation.

  Slowly, he arose. His gigantic stature taller than Cinderella remembered. Something was different about the bear in front of her than the one who had saved her from the gallows. This one was deadlier.

  “Now, that’s the beast I created,” laughed Marge. “Thee cannot deny thyself Galien. Thee wast meant to be a creature and thou shalt remain so.”

  A growl wrenched from Galien, which seemed to come from his core. He lunged at his creator and she sidestepped him. Cinderella wanted so badly to do something that she felt helpless not being able to do anything.

  “Help the Prince!” she yelled to his men.

  Markus, the one she trusted the most, drew his sword and the others followed. They made a few steps forward, but a wave of Marge’s hand sent them flying in all directions, their weapons hitting the marble floor with a clang. This caused the barricade to break.

  Cinderella ran forward before Marge realized it. The witch’s eyes bulged as they stared at the maiden running toward the Prince.

  “Galien,” Cinderella said.

  The beast growled, his yellow eyes ablaze. Cinderella paused an arm away as Galien bared his teeth.

  “Galien,” she repeated. “It is I, Cinderella.”

  “Step away wench!” Marge warned. “Or I shall destroy thee.”

  Cinderella turned to Marge. “Nay, I shall not leave him.”

  “Very well, ‘tis thy demise,” Marge replied.

  Turning back to Galien, Cinderella repeated his name. However, Galien didn’t seem to recognize her. He lunged at Cinderella with a claw that she had to duck away. While trying to get away from Galien, she stumbled and fell on her ass.

  “Galien!” she shrieked his name and he paused. “Remember thy training.”

  As Cinderella tried scrambling to her feet, she felt her throat as though someone was choking her. Her eyes bulged as they rested on the witch who had her hand stretched out in her direction. Marge’s hand was curled as though it gripped something. Yet she was not close enough to actually touch her.

  The invisible hold on Cinderella’s throat tightened, cutting her air supply. A thunderous bellow from Galien shook the walls of the palace. In that moment, a throng of soldiers wearing the Padian tunics rushed in.

  The new men stumbled back, falling over each other when they saw the beast. His roar resounded through the building shaking the walls and causing men to flee. Galien’s angry growl caught Marge’s attention and in that moment, her grip on Cinderella slackened.

  The beast leaped, slashing with
its extremity as it went. Marge was quick and moved from his path. Cinderella sprang to her feet, grasping her neck and coughing. She ran to where she had been before near the soldiers, trying to catch her breath. While Cinderella recovered, Marge lifted herself in the air. A gust of strong wind rushed through the great room.

  “’Tis been fun, but the game must end,” Marge spoke in a disembodied tone.

  Cinderella’s mouth gaped as Marge stretched her hand out, palm up. A sword detached itself from one of the guards, sailed through the air and hovered between the witch and Galien. When Cinderella realized what the witch was up to, she reached for her quiver, which had fallen to the floor. From it, she absently pulled an arrow. Her bow was lying about three arm’s length away and she quickly ran to retrieve it.

  Keeping her eyes on the witch, Cinderella picked up her bow. She grasped the area of the arrow where the head met the spine between her index and middle fingers of her left hand. In her right hand, she gripped the fletching, while at the same time pulling on the string of the bow. The arrow glinted, startling her that she slackened her grip.

  “What is this?” she whispered to herself, grasping the arrow once more.

  It glinted again, and this time she felt a tingle pass through her hand. She was breathing shallow now and her heart thudded at an uneven pace.

  Cinderella’s hands shook as her father’s voice came back to her. “To slow the enemy, thee must shoot him in the thigh.”

  “Where doth thee hit him if thou want to kill him?” she’d asked.

  “A slow death is in the heart and a quick death is between the eyes.”

  “How come it is a slow death in the heart?”

  He’d chuckled. “The heart has to bleed out first before the target dies. It can take minutes or even hours.”

  Taking her eyes off the targets he’d set out some distance away, she questioned, “And what about between the eyes, why sudden?”