"Don't worry." I turn back to Maddy, trying to contain my sudden glee. "Asher and I have all the time in the world."
The city that never sleeps has come back to life.
The curse has only been lifted for a few days, but already the change is palpable. A thrilling charge fills the air, the noise of chatter, of laughter, of cries. Every day a family is reunited, a loved one is found. Every day, the people come more and more back to life.
And the electricity has started working again. Many of the old buildings still don't have power. They are too broken down, too far decayed. The original grid has been completely destroyed by the earthquake and by time. But the rebels brought a few solar panels with them when they marched, so we are connected to the outside world through radios and a few satellite feeds. The calls are nonstop.
Rebels from around the world are reaching out, in awe, in excitement, wondering how we managed to defeat the magic. Asher and I have told the story a hundred times, and we will continue to do so as long as people want to hear it. The first victory in over a decade. The first glimpse of hope.
Dozens of cities around the world are still trapped by other monarchs. We see the magic auras on our maps, pulsing invisible to our radar scans. But that is not what people are paying attention to anymore, at least not right now. Their eyes are focused on New York, on the spot where the magic winked out and a survivor's city was revealed.
I am one of those survivors.
And so is Asher.
Even as my hand grips his, I can hardly believe it. But it's true. Somehow.
"Are you ready?" he asks.
We are standing before the wall, eyes glued to a sight I never thought I would see. This wall was my second home. I've memorized every stone, every bump, every crack. For years, it stood as a symbol of the division between us and them, between rebel and guard, between free and ensnared, between brother and sister.
Now it stands for hope.
Hundreds of pictures cover the gray stone, smiling faces we hope to get back, loved ones we hope to eventually find. Our new missing person's wall. Each day a photo is taken down and each day another replaces it. Though many have been reunited, many more are still lost.
Like the woman I hold in my hand.
My mother.
"Go on," Asher urges, pushing the small of my back just slightly. I step forward, breath tight, hands unsteady. The back of my neck tingles. When I do this, it becomes real—the wish to see her alive, the desire to hold her in my arms, the need to make her understand that I am so very sorry for waiting so long, for forgetting.
I lick my lips. If I'm being honest, those yearnings are real already.
I look down at the photograph in my hands. Her face is slightly different than I remember, more like mine than I realized. Both of our skins are a golden brown, kissed by the sun. Her hair is curlier, but it is clearly where I get my waves. Her eyes are warmer than mine, but colorful, and just as loving as I imagined. My father is in this photo too, though I know he passed before I was born. For the first time, I see myself in him as well. Though his skin is pale, our smile is the same, lips slightly thinner but opening wide. And the curve of my eyes, slightly round, sharp at each end, is just like his. And there are the mixes, the way my hair is a shade in between the jet-black of my father and the light brown of my mother, how my cheekbones are high like his but also defined like hers.
I had forgotten what my parents looked like until yesterday when I found this picture in my hand. The apartment hadn't been touched for years. While I was under the queen's thrall, I never bothered to visit. Partially because I no longer cared. Partially because I didn't want to face who I had once been and who I had then become.
But Asher and I went back to my home, to a place I thought I would never see again. The building was cracked and broken, definitely unsafe, but the risk was worth it. When we found my apartment, the scene looked frozen in time. My toys were still on the ground. My bed was still unmade. Old plates sat in the sink growing mold. A thick layer of dust covered everything. But underneath I found a few precious treasures. Photo albums, letters, trinkets of jewelry. We took whatever we could carry.
This photograph had been in a frame in her bedroom, but now it will live on the wall, a sign of hope that maybe I will see her again.
With one more deep breath, I attach the picture, adding my mother to the sea of lost faces wishing to be found. Then I step back into Asher's waiting arms. They wrap around me as he places a soft kiss on my neck.
"We'll find her," he promises. The gentle kindness in his voice is just one of the reasons I love him.
"Come on." I take Asher's hand and lead him away. "There's something I want to show you."
"What?"
But I shake my head. It's my turn to surprise him. "You'll see."
A guard tower looms ahead and I sneak him inside. They are barren now that the guard has been disbanded. Most of my former comrades have joined the rebellion and eagerly await their next assignment, wondering what new city they will help free. But others are content to give up the guns and swords, to help rebuild in different ways. There are more than enough jobs to go around.
Me?
I've always been a fighter. At least now, I can fight for something I believe in.
Asher and I climb the steps two at a time and then scamper up to the top ring of the wall, a few stories in the air. I breathe easier up here, away from the noise and commotion, remembering countless hours spent in solitude, relaxed and at peace on my own.
As I turn to make sure Asher is still with me, my feet continue forward, all too used to this path. We're going to my favorite spot on the wall, further toward the west. After we pass through two more guardhouses, I stop, taking in the view.
The crumbling buildings of old New York City look softer in the musty light of sunset. The angles are less harsh. The decay is muted by shadows. The gray is splashed with pinks and oranges, painterly reflections making the city feel more alive, less barren. But that is not why I love this view, it is for the dried up riverbed to my right, the old Hudson River that has since stopped flowing. But the grooves make a deep path, a line to the fading horizon, an arrow to freedom. It's one of the only places on the south side of the wall where you can see for miles, where no tall buildings block your vision. The glimmer of water reflects far in the distance, promising that an endless ocean rests nearby, a gateway to the rest of the world.
I used to stand here and wonder if my feet would ever walk that path, if I would ever be free. But now nothing is stopping me, nothing except the warm fingers clutching my hand, squeezing it affectionately, whispering that I never have to be alone again.
"Is this what you wanted to show me?" Asher asks.
"Sort of." I shrug. "Less of a place and more of an idea."
I tear my eyes from the scene only to realize that Asher has been looking at me the entire time, eyes a soft indigo just like the sky. A smile comes shyly to my lips as blood floods my cheeks. Something in his stare still makes me nervous, excited. I hope the feeling never changes.
"What idea was that?" He smirks, noticing my reaction.
I nudge him lightly on the shoulder. "For the first time, when I look at the world, I see possibilities. Not daydreams. Not fantasies. I see real places I can go. Real people I can save. And it's all because of you."
"I think you had a little something to do with it," he teases, but his eyes are more serious, heartfelt. Tone deeper, Asher adds, "I feel the same way."
I pause, hesitant, but his eyes are warm and welcoming, and I know these are words that need to be said at least once. "I want you to know that I'm sorry—"
"Jade," Asher interrupts, but I press on.
"I'm sorry I killed her," I finish, voice barely even a whisper. "I almost didn't, almost couldn't, because for a moment I saw the woman you always saw, the one who just wanted to be loved. But then I remembered everything she's done, and I just, I just…"
"I know," he murmurs, pulling my
head into his chest, running his fingers through my hair. "You only did what you had to do. What I wasn't strong enough to do. And it's okay."
"No, it's not. It's not okay that you are trying to help find my mother when I'm the person who took yours away. But I want you to know that wherever we go next, I will do whatever I can to make it up to you."
A twitch runs through his body, stilling me, making me pull back.
"Asher?" I ask, but he looks away, suddenly unable to meet my eyes. "What?"
"It's just," he pauses, looking utterly sheepish with eyebrows slightly raised and lips unusually pouted. "There is one thing."
"Anything," I add quickly, confused.
"Well, it's more of a someone."
I'm immediately suspicious. "Who?"
Asher swallows, expression far too apologetic. "A girl. I made a promise when we were children that I would not abandon her, and I just learned she's been trapped by a man the rebels know only as the beast."
"Who is she?" I demand, voice tight. My blood has started to pound, to race. I take a step closer just as Asher steps farther away.
"Her name is Omorose."
"I meant who is she to you?"
"Jade," he pleads, grabbing my shoulders, looking me dead in the eye. "Please remember how much I love you, that I have to be in love with you and only you or the curse never would have lifted."
"Asher," I growl.
He backs away, slowly, inch by inch as though I am a ticking bomb about to explode. "She's my fiancé."
And then he runs.
All the air leaves my body, expelled by pure shock. But then I'm boiling, fuming. My hands ball into fists as my unruly emotions take over.
That jerk.
Then I'm running too.
And we both know it's only a matter of time until I catch him.
###
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Once Upon a Curse Book Two
The classic fairy tale of Beauty & The Beast gets retold—only this time, beauty is cursed and the beast is the only one who can save her.
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About The Author
Kaitlyn Davis graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Johns Hopkins University with a B.A. in Writing Seminars. She's been writing ever since she picked up her first crayon and is overjoyed to share her work with the world. She currently lives in New York City and dreams of having a puppy of her own.
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