The Four Tales

by Rebecca Reddell

“No, I better help out at home and keep an eye on Leuthar. I don’t want dad to have to do it alone.”

  “Is he getting worse?”

  “No,” Roz denied and shook her head. “We’re keeping an eye on it though.”

  “Good,” Everett pulled his hand from hers and took a step back. “You know what you have to do, though, right?”

  “Yes. We know. That’s why this has to work.”

  “I hope so.” Everett sighed. “See ya later, Roz.” He turned to the right, and she turned left onto the gravel street.

  “Later, Ev.”

  One foot in front of the other, the black-gold light guiding her, Roz made her way home. The roads were black pebbles now. After so many years, wars, and the shifting of the earth, the asphalt remained broken. Chunks still clung together here and there, but it was just gravel and dust beneath their feet.

  “Hey!” a voice called out behind her.

  Roz turned to find Nina running after her, feet crunching, and her bag bouncing in her left hand.

  “Hey,” Roz returned as Nina slid to her side. “Are you finished?”

  “Yeah, I was almost done when I spotted you earlier, but our instructor wanted to share another way of getting out of a hold. So, how’s Leuthar?”

  Roz shrugged, and Nina hit her in the arm.

  “Ow,” Roz joked and elbowed her friend back.

  “Spill,” Nina commanded.

  “You know what’s happening. We’re trying to keep an eye on him and downplay the instances, but I think the sickness is overtaking him.”

  “It’s spreading, isn’t it?” Nina whispered.

  Roz nodded and bit her lip. “I can’t imagine a world other than this one, Nina. I told your brother that we couldn’t believe this is it, but I’m really afraid it won’t ever change, and we’re going to come home and find our hopes shattered.”

  “Nine decades is a long time to live this way,” Nina started, “but I believe what your grandfather told us. There has to be a way to get back to the world we once knew. I want to see the technology and flying vehicles.”

  “Nina, those are just stories.”

  “The beast could just be a story too. I don’t want to believe it is though. Don’t you wonder what it would be like to step onto an elevator and get to the next destination in a blink of an eye? Don’t you wonder what technology actually looks like?”

  “Dreaming isn’t going to help us here, Nina. Ev’s right. This could all be a lie.”

  “You don’t believe your grandfather then?”

  “Nina, even if it’s true, it’s over nine decades ago. There is no orange sun. The sky is a black blob of weird golden light. Food is scarce, and people we love are getting sick. How can we believe in stories when reality is killing us?”

  They stopped in the middle of the street and were the only two walking the road. No one else was around to hear Roz’s pent-up fear and frustration.

  “It’s not our fault the world shifted and smashed continents into one another. We aren’t to blame for the death and wars. I want to believe the tales about a world where two nations found the strength to come together after WWIV and create a truce. If it’s true, then the beast is real, and that gives me hope.” Nina put her hand on Roz’s arm.

  “I just want to be realistic about all of this. If we’re wrong…” she couldn’t speak it.

  Talking to Ev had made her wonder if this was their truth.

  “You’re not the only one terrified of it being a lie. Roz, I have to hold onto this hope. You know why.” Nina’s eyes filled with tears.

  Roz put her hand over her friends. “I know. I want to believe too. I’m trying.”

  “If we break the curse, we could contact the Second Kingdom. We could get help, and maybe, the sky will be blue and white and orange again. Please, believe it.”

  “Nina,” Roz started, “I will try. We have a plan, and I hope Captain Ralph is right about the likelihood of it working.”

  “He is,” Nina told her with complete confidence. “We’re going to beat the beast, Roz. We’re going to end this curse. I feel it in my bones.”

  “I wish I was more like you, Nina.” Roz smiled and shook her head. “Your faith is contagious. Fine, I’ll be positive until further notice. I better get home. Do you want to come for supper?”

  Nina shook her head. “I need to check in on mom and dad. Ev already headed home, and I shouldn’t leave him alone to deal with everything.”

  “I understand,” Roz replied.

  “Just remember, it isn’t really Leuthar saying those things. It’s the sickness. You’ll get him back.”

  Roz reached out and hugged her friend close. Nina’s arms squeezed her tight. Parting, Roz punched her friend’s shoulder.

  “Same to you. Your parents are going to make it.”

  “Thanks, Roz. See you tomorrow?” Nina asked and brushed her fingers across her eyes.

  Ignoring her friend’s tears, Roz looked at the ground and dug her shoe into the ground. The top of the toes was coated with dust. She shook it off and nodded.

  “Of course,” she said, “we have to practice. The week will fly by.”

  “Good. Later,” Nina said, turned with a wave, and walked away.

  Roz watched her friend walk away. She switched her bag to her left shoulder and waited until Nina had disappeared from view.

  Shaking her head, she stood there staring at the last place she’d seen Nina. Wishing for Nina’s faith, Roz sighed.

  “I can only hope for the future when the beast is dead,” she whispered to the ground, kicking at the dirt. “If there is a beast.”

  Roz turned around and looked at the castle. It sat upon a hill in the distance. From this far away she couldn't see any details or evidence of the beast lurking inside.

  Although she wanted to believe it was only a myth, the sensation of not being alone was powerful. Her skin prickled, and she knew he was there, somewhere, watching them. Her head cocked to the right as if listening for him.

  “We will come and destroy you,” she whispered, as if he stood in front of her, “We will win this kingdom back from you, and then the sun will shine through, and our people will live.”

  Watching the castle, Roz noticed the swirl of black clouds congregate more fully above it. A crack of lightning lit the sky and thunder crashed over the crumbling structure.

  “I guess someone out there agrees with me,” she whispered, and took a step back, twirled around, and bobbed along home.

  * * *

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  Dedication

  7 Assassins is dedicated to Angela Lansbury and Nancy Drew. Yes. I’m dedicating this book to an actress and a book character.

  Not just any actress mind you, but the greatest tv, mystery detective and writer of all time!

  Thank you, Ms. Lansbury, for all of the great episodes of Murder, She Wrote.

  And not just any book character! Nancy Drew is legend. She escaped a concussion multiple times. What other amateur detective can boast such a success? Thank you authors of Nancy Drew mysteries. You know how to cosh a character on the head like no other.

  I only hope this book will live up to both your standards.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to my beta-readers who have helped make every book possible. You are VERY much appreciated!!

  Thanks to the hard work and dedication of Cynthia Vreeland Harrington for working endlessly and tirelessly on the book covers. Your efforts are beautiful and always very much appreciated!!

  7 Assassins: A Snow White Retelling

  By Rebecca Reddell

  Welsh Word Meanings and Pronunciation:

  Heddlu - police

  Swyddogion yr heddlu - police officer

&nbs
p; Prif gwnstabl - chief constable

  Diolch - thank you

  Esgusodwch fi - Excuse me

  Os gwelwch yn dda - please

  Na - no

  Ie - yes

  Da - good

  Saethwr - shooter

  Ewch lawr - get down

  Edrych allan - look out

  Mae’n ddrwg gen i - I’m sorry

  Ff gweld - I see

  Beth - what

  Wrth gwrs - of course

  Pam hynny, Capten - Why is that, Captain?

  Sut mae hynny’n bosibl? - How is that possible?

  Ydych chi yno? - Are you there?

  Croeso - welcome

  Ofnus - scared

  Waw - Wow

  Yr wyf yn deall - I understand

  Dydw i ddim yn deall - I don’t understand

  Cytunwyd - Agreed

  Nid fi oedd yn gweld unrhyw beth - I didn’t see anything

  Yn dda - well

  Nid wyf yn gwybod - I don’t know

  Mi wnaf - I will

  Nid fi oedd yn ei wneud - I didn’t do it

  Bore da - Good morning

  * * *

  Some sites I found helpful with phrases, pronunciation, spelling, etc are:

  http://www.heart-of-wales.co.uk/welsh.htm#

  http://www.surfacelanguages.com/language/Welsh.html

  http://www.cyclingwales.co.uk/welsh.html

  Prologue

  “Mirror, Mirror on the wall. Who's the fairest of them all?”

  “Why, my dear, you are.”

  1

  “King Cynfor Snow is dead,” the voices whispered, shouted, and cried the news in the Kingdom of Rhys repeatedly.

  The small sovereign monarchy was an island off the coast of Wales. Most of their people maintained the same language and customs as their brethren country. Today this small constitutional monarchy had just lost its king, and the news spread throughout the kingdom in haste.

  “Queen Sybelle, Princess Wren, the guards are making a sweep of the premises. They’re hoping to catch the culprit before he or she gets away. The police have been called and are on their way,” Captain Sinclair Ward of the king’s personal guard.

  “Thank you, Captain Ward,” Queen Sybelle spoke.

  Wren leaned away from the windows and held her breath.

  “It’s my pleasure, Queen Sybelle. I’m very sorry for this tragic turn of events. As soon as the ground floor has been cleared, I will send the butler to you. I’m sure you and the princess would like tea or something soothing at this time.”

  “Perhaps,” Queen Sybelle nodded briefly and peered down at her pearls.

  Captain Ward bowed low to the queen and princess and left to continue the search with his men. The door clicked shut behind him, and the room relapsed into silence. Housed in the burgundy tea room, where they normally invited guests, Wren stood at one end of the room, and the queen sat on the opposite end.

  Neither said a word to the other. Wren watched the reflection in the mirror. If she turned the open window, letting in the fall air, she could watch every move her stepmother made without turning around.

  Queen Sybelle grasped her pearls, twisted them one way and then the next, and muttered to herself. Her pantsuit was black with blue flowers curling up the sleeves of her blazer. She always looked as though she had just stepped out of a very important meeting. Her honey-colored hair fell in soft waves against her shoulders.

  My father is dead, Wren thought as she watched the queen in the mirror. He’s dead, and I know whose fault it is.

  “Where were you?” Wren demanded, turning on her heel and leaning against the window sill.

  The question thrust into the air like a door being slammed.

  Queen Sybelle jerked her head up. Green eyes met grey-blue. The steel gaze had the older woman dropping her head and fiddling with her pearls.

  “I went to get a book from the library. You know I can't sleep some nights. When I returned, he was just lying there. D-d-dead.”

  The word rang out as pearls snapped and flew in every direction. The necklace hung around Queen Sybelle’s neck in a limp imitation of a noose. Wren watched the pearls scatter and looked at the remains of the necklace as though it were an omen.

  “Where were the guards?”

  “I don't know. They weren't there when I left the bedchamber. You know how the king hates them being outside the bedroom door. He may have asked them to leave. He's done it before.”

  True, but I wish he’d not done so.

  “You should have been there,” Wren's voice was hard, unwavering.

  “Maybe it's a good thing I wasn't, Wren. What if this maniac had killed me as well?”

  Wren turned away and looked back out the window. “You should have called the guards back.”

  “I wish I would have.”

  “We all know why you didn't.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  The queen sighed and stood to collect the pearls. Her gaze focused on Wren. In the mirror, her eyes burrowed a hole into the back of her stepdaughter’s head before bending to pick up the pearls. She had finished picking up the last few when the doors opened and admitted Davies.

  “Queen Sybelle, may I send you and the princess in some tea?”

  “I would enjoy a cup of herbal tea. See if Mrs. Anwyn can find the raspberry peach. Wren, what would you like?”

  “Coffee, please, Davies.”

  “Coffee? You’re going to drink coffee now? Aren’t you anxious enough without drinking caffeine?”

  “Tea has caffeine, too, Sybelle. I need coffee. It will help me get through this morning.”

  “Fine, raspberry peach tea and coffee. Thank you, Davies.”

  “Yes, Queen Sybelle. I will get it immediately. Would you like me to serve anything to eat?”

  Shaking her head, the queen said, “I’m too distraught to eat. The thought of food makes me feel nauseous.”

  “No one wants that,” Wren muttered.

  The queen’s eyes pinned on Wren, and she asked, “Did you say something?”

  Wren shook her head.

  “Do you want anything to eat, Wren?” her stepmother asked with a raised brow.

  Wren took a deep breath and crossed her arms. “No, I’m not hungry. Davies, do you know when the guards will be done? Will the police be here soon?”

  Davies bowed his salt and pepper head in Wren’s direction. “I’m uncertain, Princess Wren. Captain Ward has it well in hand and placed two guards outside the door for your protection.”

  “Thank you, Davies.”

  “Will that be all?”

  “Yes. Please let us know if anything else happens. I want to know the moment Captain Ward hears anything.”

  “I will let you know as soon as possible,” he agreed, before bowing and leaving the room.

  Running her hand through her hair, Queen Sybelle brushed it over her shoulder and started to pick at her split ends. Wren stood at the window, arms crossed, and staring. The glare continued for the next ten minutes before her stepmother finally sat on a chair and sighed.

  “What Wren?” she asked and crossed her arms.

  “Aren’t you upset? Dad’s dead.”

  “Of course, I’m upset. What kind of question is that, Wren? I walked into my room and found my husband dead. I’m trying not to think about it.”

  “I can tell you’re broken up about it.”

  “I don’t like your attitude nor your insinuations, Wren. I’m shaken, and I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my life. No one wants to walk in on their murdered husband.”

  Wren took a deep breath. “I don’t want to think about him like that. You shouldn’t say those things.”

  “Then stop looking at me as if it’s my fault I stepped out to get a book to read. I didn’t know this was going to happen. I didn’t know!”

  Blinking, Wren listened with heat building inside her. Her cheeks felt as if they had caught fire, and
her head began to ache. She was giving her best effort not to spring across the room and strangle her stepmother.

  The woman was evil and a murderer.

  Wren opened her mouth to say those exact words, but Sybelle held up a finger and shook her head. “I want silence, Wren. I don’t want another word. Do you understand?”

  “I will understand until they come in and confirm my suspicions that you’re a murderer,” Wren stated.

  Sybelle’s mouth opened wide, and her brow rose halfway up her forehead. Before she could retort, the door opened, and Davies entered. He carried the tray inside followed by one of their footmen, Dewey.

  Without a word, they set the tray on the coffee table. Davies poured, handed the cup to Dewey, and he took it to the queen. While he delivered the stepmonster’s tea, Davies poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Dewey when he returned.

  Dewey brought the cup and saucer to Wren. He gave her a small, sad smile and asked, “Is there anything else you would like, Princess Wren?”

  “No, thank you, Dewey. I appreciate your consideration.”

  “We are all terribly sorry about your loss. We will miss King Cynfor.”

  Wren felt her eyes filling and sniffed. “Thank you, Dewey.”

  He nodded, retreated, and bowed. Straightening, he retreated to Davies’s side. Taking a step back, Dewey put his hands behind him and waited for instructions.

  “Will that be all, Queen Sybelle?” Davies asked.

  “Yes, I believe so, Davies. Thank you for the tea.”

  Davies bowed and turned to Wren. “Princess, is there anything I can get for you?”

  “No, thank you. I let Dewey know I’m fine.”

  Davies bowed again and walked to the door. Dewey followed his example, bowed, and trotted off behind him. After the door closed, Wren took a sip of her coffee.

  It was just as she liked it. Strong, black, and with a truckload of sugar. Stealing glances at her stepmother, she wondered what the guards would find.