“Why did you want to hurt me?”
“You’re the only one who has more followers than me,” she shouted. “And you are so much hotter.”
“So you wanted to kill me?” Rosa looked at the woman’s designer clothing and accessories. “I only post for the money the advertisements generate. I’m trying to go to college. As soon as I finish school and get a better job, I’m done with this social media BS anyway.”
QUEEN E COLLAPSED. She had never thought Snow Fox would ever disappear from the internet, but in hindsight, it made sense. The poor girl was always posting about her struggles to climb out of poverty and make something of herself, but always felt like the world was against her. If only Queen E had stopped to think, to put herself in the other person’s shoes…
“I can pay you. I’ll pay for your school, and I’ll even buy you a house,” she pleaded as the cold cuffs closed around her wrists. “I’ll pay anything, just don’t let them take me away.”
“You’ll pay,” said Snow Fox, snarling so all her teeth showed, even the crooked ones. “You’ll pay for all the damage you’ve done, and you’ll never be the baddest bitch on Insta-pic, Chirper, Blogzerz, or YouVid.”
Queen E shouted every curse she knew. She flailed and kicked and screamed, but she couldn’t break the police officer’s rock-solid grip.
“The other inmates will have fun with you,” the policeman whispered as he hauled her away. “They never run out of interesting things to do to people who hurt children.”
“He isn’t a child,” she pleaded.
“He’s a seventeen-year-old trying to support his sick mother and little sisters,” said the cop. “And you hurt him. I’ll put you in a cell with his Aunty Liza. Try telling her he isn’t a child!”
“Shouldn’t you be reading me my rights?” she asked.
“You have the right to remain silent,” began the officer.
ROSA’S RECOVERY WAS a speedy one. After one night in the hospital, the healers had her back to 100 percent health. Cara, the charming EMT, took her out on that date. Rosa liked the way Cara made her laugh and feel pretty. Rosa’s lawyers told her to expect a decent settlement from Queen E, whose real name, she learned, was Elizabeth Smith.
It took a year for the money to come, but when it did, Rosa deleted her fake social media accounts, and she and Cara bought a condo in a better neighborhood.
On a cold night, a couple weeks before Yuletide, Rosa got stuck at school late. An early winter snow held the city in its icy grip, but its beauty was not lost on her. Ice-encased tree branches glittered in the moonlight, crystals of snow dusted lawns, and cement glittered like millions of little diamonds.
The night’s brilliance spoke of hope and beauty, reflecting how Rosa felt inside. When she got home, she knew Cara would be waiting with a warm beverage and smile. She’d ask Rosa about class, listening to every detail, good or bad, like it was the most important thing in the world.
As anxious as Rosa was to see Cara, she took her time walking home, taking in every shimmer and sparkle with which nature had coated the city. When she finally got to the condo, she slid the key into her door and tiptoed into the living room.
Cara was curled up on the couch with a tablet on her lap, wrapped in a red and green quilt, her back to the door. A teapot sat steaming on the coffee table, flanked by two mugs. Rosa guided the door so it closed without a sound and crept up to Cara, looking past her short, golden hair to a screen full of diamond engagement rings.
Grinning, Rosa kissed Cara’s temple.
Cara jumped, flipped the tablet over, and blushed up at Rosa. “No peeking. I’m shopping for your Yule gift.”
Winking, Rosa reached for the tablet, but Cara stopped her with a soft kiss on the lips. She lingered in the moment, warm and content.
While Rosa wasn’t sure if it was going to be happily ever after, it was definitely a happy for now, and maybe, just maybe, it would last ever after.
About Sara Codair
Sara Codair lives in a world of words, writing fiction in every free moment, teaching writing at a community college and binge-reading fantasy novels. When not lost in words, Sara can often be found hiking, swimming, or gardening. Find Sara's words in Helios Quarterly, Secrets of the Goat People, The Centropic Oracle, on their website and Twitter. Sara’s debut novel will be published by Nine Star Press.
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: www.facebook.com/SaraCodair1
Twitter: @ShatteredSmooth
Website: www.saracodair.com
Other books by this author
Half Breeds
Deathless
Emmalynn Spark
VANYA KNOCKED ON the door.
The sound seemed to echo for miles, and he found himself shrinking down into his stained tunic, hunching his shoulders as though he could hide or force himself to become so small that he didn’t exist anymore. It would save everyone a lot of trouble.
He was sure this wasn’t how princes were meant to go out rescuing. He was supposed to ride up to the door, looking as fine as he had the day he’d left his father’s castle, resplendent on his horse and with a group of clever animals or loyal servants or something that he had gathered to him on his travels, every inch Prince Ivan.
Instead, Vanya was there by himself. Battered, cold, bereft of his horse, and so hungry he might start to gnaw on his own limbs soon.
He knocked again. It sounded fainter this time, more hesitant, as though the knock had already given up on him too.
The only thing that kept him there was the knowledge that he couldn’t go home. He didn’t know what he was meant to do next or how he was meant to defeat an evil wizard and save a princess, but to go home in disgrace without having even tried, that would be unbearable.
Also, they’d probably just turn him right around and send him out again. A third son always had to go into the world to seek their fortune. Especially one who married a princess who was cursed to be a frog and then kidnapped by an evil wizard.
He raised his hand to knock again, fingers trembling, but before he could, there was a faint sound from inside the castle. A grinding and a clanking. Vanya held his breath and, yes, footsteps. Heavy footsteps, coming closer.
He took a step back. If he’d still had his sword, he might have drawn it. Though he wasn’t sure what good a sword would do against Kaschei the Deathless. This was a man whom millions had tried to kill before, but who was still there, long after all those great men had rotted away in their graves. Why was Vanya even there?
A great thunderous sound signalled the latch being slid. Vanya clenched every muscle in his body. He would not shake—though between the cold and the fear, it was a hard-fought battle.
Then the door swung open. Heavy. Ponderous. Spilling light out into the dusk. Tears pricked Vanya’s eyes. It was so long since he’d seen a warm light. So long since he’d felt warmth. It took all he had not to just throw himself to his knees and beg to be allowed in.
“Yes?”
Vanya looked up.
Standing in the glowing doorway was a man. Not the man Vanya was there to see, surely, because he’d always been told that Kaschei was ugly. Old. Twisted. His body reflecting his soul. This man was tall. Strong. In his prime in every way that Vanya could see. He looked like he could lift Vanya from his feet and carry him, though in Vanya’s current state, that wouldn’t have been difficult.
“I…I’m looking for Kaschei the Deathless.”
The man blinked. “And you’ve found him. Who are you?”
This man was Kaschei? Vanya’s worldview shifted a little. But, then, maybe it made sense. What was the point of being Deathless if you still aged? And since when could royal gossip be relied on to be sensible or accurate?
Vanya pushed himself to his full height and fought the urge to throw himself at this man’s feet to beg for forgiveness. He forced himself not to think of what might come next. How he could ever expect to win or what he might do even if he did. How he’d get th
e princess back home if, by some twist of fortune, he did manage to win there.
“I’m Prince Ivan,” he said. “I’m here to rescue the princess.”
It might have sounded quite grand if it weren’t for the way the cold made his teeth chatter. Kaschei smiled a cruel smile.
“Have you now? And how do you propose to do that?”
Wasn’t that just the question of the hour? Vanya looked around as though divine inspiration might come to him. As though a friendly animal might amble out of the woods and provide advice or the glint of the snow on the trees might remind him of a trick or a treasure his family had passed on that might help.
He had nothing.
“I don’t know,” Vanya admitted.
“Well, at least you’re honest. Come back when you do.”
Kaschei moved to shut the door, and Vanya panicked. There was no other word for it—he panicked. Stepped forward and wrapped his shaking hand around the door so Kaschei wouldn’t be able to close it without crushing his fingers. He fully expected Kaschei to carry on anyway. To just crush them. But he didn’t, he stopped and let the door hang open.
“Yes?”
“I… Why did you take her?”
“Don’t you know?” Kaschei said. He lifted a hand to touch Vanya’s cheek, and his hand was so warm. “I collect pretty princesses. Isn’t that just what I do? I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.”
Vanya had.
“But why?”
Kaschei paused. “Ah, there’s a question. Isn’t it enough to do something just because you’re expected to?”
“But you must have done it for a reason at first. Otherwise, why would people expect it?”
Kaschei smiled. The hand still on Vanya’s cheek stroked gently. “You’re right. I suppose I was lonely. I suppose I was bored.”
“Are captured princesses good company?”
“I didn’t say it worked. It’s simply what’s expected. We must all play our roles, Prince Ivan.”
Vanya laughed. He’d never been good at that. At fitting in. At smiling and dancing and saying the right thing at the right time. At being the prince everyone expected him to be.
Maybe he could try a different role.
“How about this,” he said, daring a step closer to the warmth and light of Kaschei’s house. “I’ll stay. If you let the princess go, I’ll stay. I’m much better company than a captured princess. I mean, at least I won’t be trying to run away all the time. And you won’t have to deal with knights and princes turning up on your doorstep at all hours of the day and the night trying to rescue me.”
Kaschei looked surprised, though the expression was gone quickly enough. “If I accept this deal, you have to honour it. You’re willing to do this for your princess? To condemn yourself to a life locked in this castle with me?”
Locked in this castle with Kaschei. Locked in his father’s castle with his two perfect older brothers constantly finding him wanting. Vanya didn’t see much of a difference.
“Yes. I’ll stay.”
For a few moments, they stood there, Kaschei’s face carefully blank and neutral. Then Kaschei laughed. Vanya’s stomach clenched with fear instead of hunger. Vanya thought that Kaschei would slam the door on him after all. That he’d be left there alone to starve on the doorstep: a failure in every way.
Instead, Kaschei stepped back. He opened the door wide.
“I suppose you should come in then, little prince. If you’re so sure.”
Vanya stepped forward into the light and the warmth.
HE MET HIS wife for the first time in the sitting room of Kaschei the Deathless. Which is to say, he followed Kaschei into the room and found the woman he’d married, the woman who’d crawled out of the frogskin he’d burnt, sat primly by the fire, drinking tea. She looked up at him and frowned.
“What are you doing here?”
“A touching reunion, I see,” Kaschei said. He sounded like he wanted to laugh, and Vanya found his gaze fixed on the floor. He didn’t want to see Kaschei’s amusement. Didn’t want to know that the other man knew Vanya wasn’t giving up his freedom for love. Didn’t really know or care about this woman he’d married. That he was just doing the only thing he could do in the only way he knew how to.
“I came to rescue you.”
The woman snorted. “Yes, of course. But you generally go about a rescue by killing the wizard, you know. Not asking to come in for tea.”
Vanya glanced up to see Kaschei grinning, as though this was an amusing play staged just for him.
“I…I’ve made a deal. You can go.”
“A deal?” the woman asked, sitting up straight. “Sasha, what about…?”
“We have an understanding. Don’t fret, my dear. I’m sure he will be cunning. You can leave.”
The woman stood. She looked at Vanya sharply, then at Kaschei. She seemed to have a moment of indecision, and then she shrugged and straightened her spine.
“You’re sure about this? Maybe I made a poor choice? I could go again?”
“I…” Vanya started, but Kaschei cut over him. Clearly, the remark hadn’t been aimed at him.
“My dear, you should know not to judge a book by its cover.”
By now, Vanya was confused. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but not this. Maybe for her to throw herself into his arms? To beg him to come away with her? Instead, she seemed quite happy to be here with Kaschei. Like they knew each other.
Something wasn’t right.
The woman nodded. “Can we have one minute, then?”
“One minute.” And then Kaschei was gone, leaving him alone with his wife. The woman who, in a frog’s skin, had slept on his bed. The woman who he’d suffered so much for, lost in the wilderness. The woman who meant nothing to him.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said, stepping closer to him. “Kaschei won’t be forgiving if you break whatever deal you’ve made.”
“I’m fine,” Vanya said. “It’s not your concern. I’m the prince, after all. Maybe I’m just cursed.”
“There’s certainly something different in the Fates’ mind when it comes to you,” she agreed. “I’m Vasilisa. Here.” She reached up and tugged gently at the corner of her eye, and her finger came away with an eyelash. She reached into her pocket and retrieved a handkerchief, then folded the eyelash up inside. “I hope you don’t ever need it, but if you blow on the eyelash, I’ll come back and be of any help I can be.”
“Thank you,” Vanya said, taking the handkerchief and placing it in his pocket. He hoped he’d never need it but it was nice to know that it was there. “I’m sorry I don’t have a horse or anything to give you to get you home.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Vasilisa said, smiling. “I have everything in hand. But before I go, let me tell you one more thing. Turn your mattress.”
“Turn my mattress?”
“Yes,” Vasilisa said. Then she stepped in quickly and pressed a chaste kiss to Vanya’s cheek. She pulled back, and in a whirl, the woman in front of him was gone and a falcon stood there instead. A door behind him opened and the bird flew out, heading through the hallway with a screech. The large front doors boomed open for her as she went.
Why couldn’t she just have done that herself weeks ago and saved him the trouble?
It was a few moments before Kaschei returned, though Vanya didn’t dare sit. He was still filthy and the room was immaculate, full of beautiful furniture and wall hangings. When Kaschei found him there, he smiled.
“That child,” he said, gesturing to the door. “Always so dramatic.” Vanya blinked at the familiarity. For a second, he wondered how Kaschei and Vasilisa knew each other. She’d called him Sasha. Did that make her his friend? Family? How had she come to be cursed anyway?
Then all that was chased from his mind by his stomach growling inside him. He pressed his hand against it as though he could hold the dreadful sound in, but he couldn’t. Kaschei must have heard it.
“Come,” Kasche
i said, taking Vanya’s elbow gently. “Let me show you your room. You can wash and dress, and I’ll have a tray sent. Tomorrow, we can work out how you’ll be of value to me.”
VANYA HADN’T HAD much time to consider the situation that he had created for himself, but if he had considered it, he would not have thought of this. He’d have thought, maybe, of a dank cell. A locked door. A princess sobbing. A life of torture and deprivation.
By contrast, the room he was shown to was rather nice. Kaschei led him there with a hand on his elbow that Vanya might have protested if the hunger hadn’t made him so weak. He’d been left with a small table set with steaming food and a bath freshly drawn, as though the household was expecting guests. He supposed that it might have been intended for Vasilisa.
He fell on the food like a wolf, not even noticing that Kaschei was gone until he’d cleared his plate, resisting the temptation to lick it only by imagining the faces of his father’s courtiers. When he realised he was alone, he went right to the door, expecting to find it locked. Instead, it opened easily, and he found himself in a pleasant hall.
A nice room in a nice house. Warmer than even the palace would be on a cold night like this. And apparently, he was free to wander. He shrugged and made his way back into his room.
His plates were full again.
He froze for a moment, looking at them. He’d cleared them. He had. Only now they were full again. Succulent meat, crisp vegetables, an entire meal.
A servant must have run in behind him. They must have. Darting from a servants’ door and changing the plate. But how would they have known he needed it? Why hadn’t he heard them?
No, this was magic.
It stood to reason. Kaschei the Deathless was the most powerful of all wizards. Of course, the household ran on magic. Only Vanya had never encountered magic like this before. Magic was rare and chaotic. Expensive in any number of ways you didn’t expect. He’d never seen it like this.
Still, his stomach told him a magic meal was still a meal. However it came to be there, he wanted it.
Once Upon the Rainbow, Volume Two Page 7