The Faceless Woman_A Retelling of the Swan Princess

by Emma Hamm

  “A bit like a whirlpool.”

  “Have you gone mad? We’re in a rickety boat the size of a child’s toy. A whirlpool will tear us apart!”

  “Weren’t you the one who said almost dying is an adventure?”

  “I’ve never said that Bran.” She whipped around and glared at him. “You’re going to get me killed.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry, witch.” He flashed her a smile, pulled the oars up into the boat, and held out his hands. “When have I not saved you from almost certain death?”

  Aisling rolled her eyes and took his hands. “One of these times, you’re not going to be able to save me.”

  “Never.”

  “You just steered us into a whirlpool, didn’t you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I think I might hate you.”

  He gave her a wink. “You’re a faerie, remember? You can’t lie anymore.”

  Cat claws dug into her calves, and she held onto Bran as the boat tipped backward, then slid down into the belly of the whirlpool.

  Water crashed around them, great eddies of powerful liquid spinning so quickly it looked like clear glass. Aisling could see the ocean beyond, dark waters and spears of light sinking through the ocean into the murky abyss. She caught a glimpse of a dark shadow as they plummeted toward the seafloor.

  Her hair tangled in front of her face. She hooked her heels underneath the bench but never once felt worried. Bran held her hands, secure and firm. She felt the gentle push of magic on her shoulders holding Lorcan and herself down.

  He muttered a spell, dark hair whipping around his face, feathers ruffling.

  Just as she was about to ask how much longer, the boat struck solid stone. She felt the wood shatter underneath her, the blinding pain of her legs cracking, flesh rending, muscle tearing. Aisling saw a bright flash of white magic but didn’t have time to cry out in pain.

  A gentle burble of waves lapped at the boat’s hull. Aisling let out the breath she had been holding with a gasp and opened her eyes wide.

  They were floating on a calm, dark sea, their boat intact as if nothing had happened. Stars dotted the night sky above them, reflecting in the glassy water as if they sat inside a galaxy. Thousands of tiny pinpricks of light surrounded them.

  Bran’s gaze met hers. She saw the galaxies inside his eyes and felt them expand in her chest.

  “What was that?”

  “Standing stone traveling.”

  “You didn’t warn me.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I couldn’t describe it right anyways. Best to just experience it.”

  She shuddered, then released his hands. “I’m never doing that again.”

  “You might not have a choice.”

  “I’m never doing that again, Bran,” she firmly replied.

  Aisling leaned down to peer underneath the bench for Lorcan. Her hair fell in a waterfall to the bottom of the boat. His claws were still latched onto her calves, but shadows covered everything other than his outstretched paws.

  “You can let go now,” she said.

  “Not after that. Tell that Unseelie when I get off this boat, I’m going to claw his eyes out.”

  Aisling chuckled. “You are not.”

  “I am, and more. Cats eat birds.”

  Bran snorted. “I’d like to see you try. Some birds are too tough to chew on.”

  “I’ll survive it,” Lorcan growled.

  “Boys,” Aisling interrupted with a burst of laughter, “are you quite done?”

  “Not yet. I still want to claw at him. I get to at least scratch him with one paw.”

  “No, Lorcan.”

  “One scratch.”

  “No!” She shook her head and leaned back up. Her head swam at the quick movement, spinning the stars all around Bran until he blended into the darkness between them.

  She’d never thought a man beautiful before him. They were sturdy creatures with broad shoulders capable of lifting much weight. But he was more than that. Bran was artwork embodied. Graceful lines, arches that rivaled the greatest architecture of her time, a face that would make a sculptor weep. He was two sides of a coin. Smooth, handsome skin on one side, rough, ragged beast on the other.

  “Have you stared your fill?” he asked.

  “I don’t know if I ever will.”

  “Look behind you, Aisling. Your first sight of the Dark Castle is one to remember for the rest of your life.”

  She took a deep breath and turned to see the home of the Unseelie.

  Jagged spires rose into the air with points sharper than that of a blade. High peaks rose as far as her eye could see, both mountain and castle tangled together, all at the edge of an ocean that churned to rise up the steep cliffs. Slashes of red and orange light marked windows glowing from candles and magic.

  A flock of dark shapes circled the castle. Not birds, for they were too large to be normal birds, but winged beasts, half faerie, half animal. The wind carried the sound of laughter, but not joyful, and screams, but not agonized. Both echoed, tainted with pleasure in pain.

  Aisling should have been afraid. Her heart should have caught at the sight of such shadowed darkness, but she couldn’t force herself to feel that way. Instead, all she recognized within herself was a strange sense of curiosity and foreboding.

  “The Dark Castle,” she repeated. “Home of the Unseelie court.”

  “Only royalty.”

  “Your home.” She glanced over her shoulder in time to see his grimace. “Or…where you grew up.”

  “That’s a little more accurate.”

  He picked up the oars and steered them toward a small alcove she hadn’t noticed before. Stairs rose out of the ocean, lit by small, hovering orbs casting yellow light onto the sea. She’d never been afraid of water. Aisling had always been able to swim. But this blackened mire made her nervous.

  “Remember I said we need the waters from Swan Lake?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. The boat bumped against the stairs.

  “It’s hidden deep underneath the castle. We’ll go in through the library. We’ll have to avoid my sisters and hope they haven’t changed the spell. Otherwise, we’re walking into a labyrinth.”

  “Easy enough?”

  He shook his head and hopped onto the slippery stones with a confidence she envied. “It won’t be. Listen to me, Aisling. None of my family is normal, but my sisters most of all. They can’t see you, but they can hear you. So stay quiet. Not a word until we get out of the library from here on out. You understand?”

  “You’re frightening me, Bran.”

  “Impossible.” He held out a hand for her to take and gave her a wavering smile she didn’t believe. “You’re much too strong to ever feel fear.”

  “Flattery will get you everywhere.” She placed her hand in his and let him pull her from the boat in one smooth movement.

  He kept his hand under her arm for a moment to steady her, heat sinking into her bones until he left her standing alone on the slippery rocks. Bran knelt next to the boat. He asked, “Are you coming Lorcan?”

  A faint hiss emanated from under the bench.

  “I’ll take that as a no. We’ll see you sometime soon then?”

  Another hiss was the response.

  Aisling hid her grin behind a hand. “He’ll catch up. He always does. It takes him a little while to muster the bravery, but once he does, he’s unstoppable.”

  “You don’t say?” Bran grumbled and stood. “It’s not safe for any of us to be alone here.”

  “I don’t worry about Lorcan. For all that he might be a little smaller than most, he’s a dangerous man when he wants to be.”

  They grinned at each other before he swept an arm out in a flourishing movement. “My lady. Please ascend the staircase.”

  “For me?” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I didn’t know you were such a gentleman.”

  “Quietly now, Aisling. We can’t afford anyone discovering we’re here.”

  She patted his ar
m as she walked by. “You’re learning. For once, you actually told me that I need to be quiet.”

  Bran grinned, then ran a finger across his lips.

  She’d keep her mouth shut if that’s what it took to get them through this safely. He was getting a little better at keeping her informed. She knew that noise would alert his sisters, although she didn’t know why that was a bad thing.

  One would think a family reunion would only help them. He could waltz into the grand hall, or whatever it was the Unseelie called it, ask for a small vial of liquid, and then the curse would break.

  Seemed easy enough.

  She couldn’t figure out if he was making this difficult because he had to, or if it was because Unseelie Fae loved to see chaos unravel. There would always be a part of him that wanted to create as much mischief as possible.

  Aisling carefully watched her steps on the slippery stairs and decided she didn’t mind the mischief overly much. It certainly made life interesting.

  As they reached the top of the stairwell, Bran tapped a finger on her shoulder. She paused and let him step ahead of her. When he slid his hands over the slick stone wall, runes glowed crimson under his touch.

  Blood magic. She’d never seen such an ancient spell before. They were created in a time of war or hardship and were rarely removed. Most people would hastily leave a place tainted by magic like this.

  Bran hissed out a breath and wiped a bloody palm on his pants. With the price paid, the stone wall faded out of existence, allowing them to step into a cave system deep inside the Unseelie castle.

  Liquid dripped from the ceiling, pinging quiet sounds that covered the echo of their footsteps. Faint white mist glowed at the floor, but even the dim light wasn’t enough to cast a shadow. They relied on their hands pressed against the walls to guide them.

  Aisling stepped where Bran did, every turn opened up to more tunnels, the options unlimited. The air felt charged with electricity, magic pulsing in her veins and making the tips of her fingers burn.

  Bran held up a finger and pressed it against his lips.

  She wasn’t making any noise. Pursing her lips, she gestured in a silent way to declare that she was following the rules.

  He glared and pointed at her, then exaggerated a deep inhalation and exhale.

  Was he saying she was breathing too loud?

  Aisling wanted to reach out and smack him. She knew how to be quiet, and if her breath was a little louder than he wanted it to be, then he would need to knock her over the head to quiet her down. She glowered at him as he raced forward on silent feet and pressed himself against the wall.

  Bran didn’t look at her. Instead, he simply lifted a hand and gestured for her to move forward.

  Aisling glanced around the cave. There was no glimmer of magic in the air suggesting a spell hid someone from their view. They were in a cave system of tunnels, and no one was here.

  She sighed and walked toward him. And though her footsteps were quiet, they weren’t nearly as silent as his had been.

  His expression darkened. He waited for her to get close before he grabbed her arm, shoved her against the wall, and blanketed her body with his. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against her ear.

  “What did I say about being quiet?” he hissed.

  “There’s no one here.”

  “It’s the Unseelie castle. You can’t know that for certain.”

  “I can see there is no one standing there staring at us. We’re in a tunnel system, Bran. Of all places to worry about someone being hidden, I can see down both ends, and there is no one else but us.”

  “We have to be quiet.”

  She huffed out a breath and growled in his ear, “It’s one thing to be careful when we need to be, but you just look foolish.”

  Her words were like the slash of a sword through the heat between them. He stepped back a few times, storm clouds thundering in his gaze.

  Aisling knew she had a way of throwing him off. She watched with amusement as he crossed his arms, then untangled himself and stuck his hands on his hips, then shook his head with frustration and tossed his hands in the air. “They changed the spell. I’m walking blind here. All the halls are different.”

  “If you can’t figure it out, then let me walk normally when there is no one here.”

  “Fine,” he whispered. “Go your own way. See how that works out for you.”

  “I will.”

  “I said that was fine.”

  “You have no idea what I’m capable of, Unseelie. You’ve already told me where the waters are. I don’t need you.”

  He lunged forward and stuck a finger in her face. “You need me to break the binding curse.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I have the other ingredients.”

  He had her there. She would need the rest of the spell to complete it, and he wasn’t likely to hand it over to her.

  Aisling huffed out a frustrated breath. “Fine. Then we meet back here.”

  “You foolish woman!” He ran a hand over his feathers, clearly struggling. He couldn’t protect her if he was going to shout at her the whole time. Finally, he pointed at her again. “You keep yourself out of trouble and come right back here when you find anything. Otherwise, I’m coming for you and the entire Unseelie army couldn’t stop me.”

  She reached forward and patted his cheek. “I love how cocky you are.”

  They both froze with her hand pressed against him. Good gods, had she admitted to loving him? No. She’d admitting to loving a part of his personality. It meant nothing. He had to understand that.

  His gaze heated, and all the stars in his eyes burst to life. They whispered promises of long nights, velvet sheets, and a man who blended in with the night sky.

  Aisling snatched her hand away and stepped back. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “We will soon.”

  “Just find the water and then find me.”

  “I’ll say the same to you, witch.”

  He cast a lingering glance over his shoulder, then disappeared down the tunnel. He walked carefully, quietly, and so slowly it made her roll her eyes.

  Aisling turned the other way and traced their steps back to a previous fork. She picked a tunnel that felt like it might be the right way. It disappeared down into darkness, mist swirling over the stones sluggishly. Wall sconces slowly flickered to life as she passed, casting the tunnel in a sickly red glow. Her shadow danced over the walls, then blinked out of existence as if she’d never had one.

  She ran a hand over her arms. This was her choice. She wanted to wander about on her own without his ridiculous precautions. Her own fault she was alone in the most dangerous place in the known world.

  She put her back to the wall as the tunnel split again. Leaning around the edge, she peered both ways before choosing to stick to the left. If Bran was right and this place really was a labyrinth, then she knew how to get through it.

  Somehow, she doubted he was right. The area she had stepped into was still just a tunnel system. The walls were chewed away, perhaps by some large beast that had created these in an attempt to make its way through the mountainside.

  She shivered again. What kind of beast could create tunnel systems like this?

  A quiet echo of sound skittered down the tunnel. It sounded like a moan, of a creature or person in agonizing pain.

  “Wonderful,” she muttered. “Just what I need to make this even more interesting.”

  Aisling was careful the farther down the tunnel she went. The moaning grew louder and louder until she pressed a hand to her ear. It made her eyes cross. She blinked them quickly, rubbed at one with a hand, then stared wide-eyed at the wall in front of her that seemed to waver for a moment.

  She touched her finger to the slick wall beside her and flicked a droplet of water at the magicked wall. “By earth and water, dispel all glamour and see it true.”

  The spell held.

  Her anger spiked, shattering the strange sound spell that hel
d her in its grasp. “Dispel all glamour,” she repeated, “and see it true.”

  The wall shook, then the spell dissolved. Wind swept through immediately. It tangled around her legs, shook the fabric of her borrowed skirts, and threaded through her hair until it flooded back down the tunnel.

  A gaping hole in the side of the tunnel revealed a picturesque view of starlight reflected on a calm sea. The darkness was beautiful, intimidating, and so painfully dangerous that it made her eyes sting.

  The water far away stirred. A great beast rose from beneath the waves, its scaled side glistening in the moonlight as one large arch lifted out of the water and then slowly disappeared again.

  They had traveled across those waters without a care in the world. She hadn’t even considered looking down at the waves, she’d been so caught up in staring at her own Unseelie.

  What kind of beasts had stared back at them?

  Aisling shivered again, brushed her hands over her arms, and turned. She took a right instead of a left, meandering through the labyrinth.

  It felt as though she had been traveling for hours. Her feet started to ache, her back threatened to seize, and her heart thumped hard in her chest. The tunnels never seemed to end.

  Every single one was exactly the same as the next. Water dripped down the walls. Ragged pieces stuck out from the wall of everything she saw. It always ended with two choices, and she always took the right.

  If she had to turn around, Aisling was careful to retrace her steps. They hadn’t brought anything with them to mark their passage. She took to tracing runes in the algae on the walls. No one would notice the scratched marks as anything other than a strange way for algae to grow. But she knew what her own marks meant.

  Just when she thought she might lose her mind, her foot knocked against something on the floor. That was different.

  She cocked her head to the side and stared down at the open book. Its pages fluttered, colorful paintings flipping so quickly she couldn’t quite make out what they were. Aisling stooped, picked it up, and turned it over to see the gilded cover.

  “A History of the Unseelie Court,” she whispered. “Interesting.”

  Tucking the book under her arm, Aisling continued in the same direction. A few more books appeared in the distance, each more intriguing than the last.