Aurora Abroad

by Aron Lewes

  “Yeeees?” the old woman answered in a sing-song voice.

  “Um...” Aurora decided to do the speaking. If she let Lyric explain, she knew he would find some way to make a mess of it. “Hi. Um... we were wondering if we could take shelter here for a few minutes. There’s a wolf in the woods. A big wolf.”

  “Ahhh... yeeeeees. I’ve heard about that,” the old woman croaked. “Do come in, do come in.” As she ushered them through the doorway, the smile never left her face.

  “We had a pretty dangerous encounter with the wolf,” Aurora continued to explain. She finally noticed that Greta was clinging to Lyric, who was practically dragging the little girl with him as he stepped into the cottage.

  “Oh, dear! That must have been terrible!”

  “It was!”

  “And this little girl? Is she your daughter?”

  “What?! You mean... OUR daughter? As in, mine and his?”

  “Yeeeeees. That’s what I meant.”

  “No! No! No way!” Aurora adamantly shook her head. When she stole a peek at Lyric, she was surprised to see him grinning.

  “I hope I didn’t offend you, dear. I didn’t think she was your daughter. I didn’t think you could have a daughter as old as that... what is she, six? Seven?”

  “I have no idea,” Aurora answered. “I don’t know anything about her, except her name. I think her name is Greta.” She looked to the little girl for confirmation, but she didn’t nod or shake her head or anything of the sort. In fact, Greta buried her face against Lyric’s shirt.

  “Well...” The old woman patted the top of Greta’s carrot-colored head. “Would Greta like an apple?”

  Greta didn’t come out of hiding, nor did she say a word.

  “A shy little thing, isn’t she?” The old woman noted. Her cracked, thin, wrinkle-laden lips tried to work their way into a smile. “Your boyfriend is quiet, too.”

  Aurora rolled her eyes. She didn’t have the willpower to explain, yet again, that Lyric wasn’t even close to being her boyfriend.

  “Well, then.” The old lady took Aurora by the elbow and proceeded to steer her into the adjoining room—a living room that smelled like moth balls and tonic. Lyric, with Greta attached to him, followed. “Why don’t you make yourselves comfortable? Have a seat and I’ll get you some refreshments.”

  Aurora sat on the sofa, which squeaked and popped when she sat. “That’s too kind of you.”

  “Would you like something to drink, Aurora? Some lemonade?” the old lady asked.

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  “And you two?” The old woman turned her attention to Lyric and Greta, who simultaneously shook their heads.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.” Lyric had to use both arms to extract Greta from his midsection before he joined Aurora on the couch. As soon as the old lady shuffled out of the room, he said, “Well, that’s odd.”

  “What’s odd?”

  “You mean you didn’t notice?”

  “Notice what?” If he was talking about the odd smell, it was hard not to notice.

  “She knew your name,” Lyric said. “You never told her your name, but she knew your name!”

  “She did?!”

  Lyric nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  Aurora swore she could feel her heart sink. She silently chided herself for putting too much trust in strangers. “We have to get out of here.”

  “What? Why?”

  “We just do! We need to grab Greta and get out of this house!”

  “And leave our safe haven? Why would we do that?” Lyric draped an arm across the back of the sofa, giving her the impression he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “She knew my name! What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. Probably nothing. Don’t overreact. Maybe you introduced yourself and I forgot? That’s possible, right? I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  “No, you’re right! I’m pretty sure I never said my name! We have to get out of here.” Aurora leapt from the sofa, grabbed both of Lyric’s arms, and tried to pull him up. “Come on!”

  He begrudgingly followed her lead. “Alright, alright.”

  Aurora spent the next few minutes trying to find an alternate exit, but the cottage was tiny. She had to pass through the kitchen to get out, and unless she wanted to escape through a window, she had to pass the old woman along the way. Lyric was right—she probably was overreacting, but she thought she was better safe than sorry.

  Aurora motioned for Greta and Lyric to follow her, and proceeded to tiptoe into the kitchen. She hoped the old woman was hard of hearing and would not hear them pass, but that wasn’t the case. The floorboards creaked, and the old woman—who was preparing fresh-squeezed lemonade—turned around.

  “Ohhhhh, no! Are you leaving already?”

  “Um, yeah. Sorry. I just realized we have to be somewhere... and we don’t want to burden you.”

  The old woman spoke slowly, tremulously. “It’s not a burden. I’m just a lonely old woman in the middle of the woods. I’m happy to entertain guests.”

  “But we really should be going.”

  “You won’t even stay for lemonade?”

  Aurora shook her head. “It sounds nice, but I’ll pass. I’m really, really sorry.”

  “But the wolf might still be out there!’

  Lyric was already reaching for the doorknob as Aurora continued to make excuses. “I’m sure the wolf’s moved on. We’ll take our chances.” When the door opened, Aurora gasped. There was a familiar figure standing just beyond the doorway—there was no mistaking the dark robe and cavernous hood. “Noxor!”

  Or so she thought. The robed wraith grabbed her around the waist and jostled her into the cottage. He shoved her with so much force, Lyric had to grab her around the waist to stop her from falling.

  Aurora shouted at the old lady. “Quick! We need to get out of here! This is not our friend!”

  “Oh? But he’s my friend.” The old woman croaked. “I was hoping we could do this the easy way. Unfortunately, it cannot be so.”

  When the old woman grinned, the lines around her mouth started to vanish. The deep wrinkles on her forehead seemed to melt back into her skin, and her wiry white hair softened, changed pigment, and grew to the middle of her back. Her burgundy hair was a stark contrast to her pale ivory skin; her searing eyes were reminiscent of a snake’s.

  The frail old lady was gone, and a handsome woman was standing in her place.

  A familiar woman.

  The old lady was none other than Aurora’s aunt, Medea.

  IV

  LYRIC GRABBED AURORA’S wrist and tried to make a run for the door, but he didn’t get far.

  “Nuh uh uh!” Medea wiggled a finger, and Lyric’s body suddenly stiffened. No longer in control of his body, he fell to the ground like a statue. The robed wraith grabbed Aurora, and Medea took hold of Greta.

  “What did you do to Lyric?!” Aurora shrieked. Her heart thrashed against her chest as she stared at his motionless body. He was lying on the ground, pale and unblinking. It was easy to fear the worst.

  “Oh, is that his name?” Medea snorted. “He looks familiar. He was with you last time I saw you, wasn’t he? If he keeps following you around, the poor fool must be a glutton for pain. Or... wait...” Medea gave a sinister chuckle. “He must be in love with you. Is that it?”

  Aurora closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe the scene that was unfolding in front of her. And the wayspinner was broken. This time, there was no way to escape.

  “Well, I hope he’s in love with you, because that would be perfect. A perfect tragedy.” Medea gave Greta’s hair a gentle stroke. “He can watch me kill you right in front of him!” As soon as she was finished petting Greta’s hair, Medea opened the door to the oven and shoved Greta inside.

  “What?!” Aurora drew a sharp breath. “What are you doing?”

  “She can be a snack for wolfie, a prize for leading you here.” When she saw the tears in her niece’s e
yes, Medea heaved a sigh. “Don’t worry. The oven isn’t lit. Yet.”

  “How could you do this? WHY are you doing this?!”

  Medea rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you ask me that question before? Didn’t I already give you an answer?” She walked across the room and pulled a knife from the drawer. “Isn’t it sufficient to say I am pure, unadulterated evil? Or does that explanation not satisfy you?”

  “Oh, I already know you’re evil! I just want to know what made you so evil!”

  Medea laughed. “Well, I suppose there is a reason. And since I’m going to kill you anyway, I might as well tell you. But... I don’t want to kill you right away. There’s no fun in that, is there? In the meantime, why don’t you answer a question for me?” Medea tilted the knife toward the window, and it glinted in the sunlight. “How do you think I should kill you?” When Aurora didn’t respond, her aunt continued to muse, “Should I kill you slowly, or should I do it quickly? Should I use this knife, or should I... hmm...”

  “Why did my parents send me away?”

  “I can’t answer that either. No, no. Not quite yet.”

  “Is there a reason I don’t know about?”

  “Oh, yes. Definitely so.”

  “They weren’t trying to protect me from you?!”

  “Did someone tell you that?” Medea chuckled. “Trying to protect you from the truth, more like. Or maybe they didn’t know the whole story.”

  “What are you going to do to Lyric?”

  “After I kill you, you mean?” Medea pointed the knife at Lyric. “He’s quite beautiful, isn’t he? I can understand why you like him. The sunlight on his cheek... his adorably disheveled, chocolate-colored hair. Mmm.”

  “What are you going to do to him?!”

  “Well, I was going to kill him, but that would be a terrible waste.” Medea smiled. “No, no. I think I’ll have some fun with him.”

  Aurora’s eyelashes fluttered, as if she’d been punched in the stomach. She didn’t want to imagine what sort of plans Medea might have for him. Suddenly, a life as the siren’s boytoy didn’t sound so bad.

  “Well, anyway, I want to get on with the killing, so I might as well get on with the confession. Are you ready? What I have to say might be a bit... shocking, to say the least.”

  Aurora tried to break free from the wraith’s grasp, but it was no use. She could have struggled all night long, and she wouldn’t get anywhere. All she could do was resign herself to fate—and hope for a miracle.

  “So, you want to know why I want to kill you? You want to know why I’ve been so desperate to hunt you down? Well, apart from being evil... which I am, don’t get me wrong... I suppose it has to do with jealousy.”

  “Jealousy? Jealous of what? Jealous of me?”

  “No, not exactly.” Medea paused. “Well, in a way, I suppose that might be true. You see, your existence... your very existence... makes me seethe with bitterness. Every time I think of you, every time I look at you, I am disgusted. I am reminded of a terrible disappointment I had to endure.” Medea studied the knife; more specifically, she studied her reflection in the knife’s blade. “I was in love with your father.”

  “My father?” Aurora repeated quietly. “Wait, your brother?”

  “No, silly.” Medea laughed. “While my brother is, indeed, the king... the king is not your father.”

  Aurora felt numb as she listened to Medea speak.

  “Surprised, are you?” Medea raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s true. You are, in fact, the queen’s illegitimate daughter. I was in love with your father... who had an affair with your mother. Now do you see why I look at you with resentment?”

  “But I’m... but that’s...”

  “Are you starting to put the pieces together? Are you starting to understand why the king sent you away?” Medea’s grin returned. She was obviously delighting in Aurora’s unease. “Of course, there are very few people who know the actual truth... myself included. The king didn’t want the people to hear about the queen’s indiscretion. It would have been terrible for politics, as I’m sure you can imagine. At the same time, he didn’t want to have to see your disgusting little face any more than I want to see your disgusting little face. So he spun a little yarn about his evil sister putting a curse on you. He sent you away, and I had to go into hiding.”

  “As the years went by, I started to realize something. You were the reason for all of my misfortunes. I’ve only loved one man my entire life, and you’re the product of his infidelity. Not only that... you’re the reason I have such a terrible reputation. I never wanted to kill you, you know... not until my brother gave me the idea.”

  “You can’t make excuses for yourself!” Aurora shouted, surprised her own gutsiness. “You killed Molly!”

  “Yes. I suppose I did do that.” Medea snickered softly. “Those poor women had no idea why they were raising you, but they did a good job protecting you. Because of them, I was unable to locate you for eighteen years. Their magic is relatively weak in comparison to mine, but their little protection spell was amazingly efficient.”

  “I hate you!”

  “Believe me, my dear, the feeling is mutual.” Medea started to approach her, knife extended. “So, what do you think? How do you feel, now that you know you’re not a true princess, but rather an illegitimate daughter of a harlot queen?”

  “I don’t care. I’m going to die either way!”

  “By the way, if you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not your aunt. We don’t share blood, so why should I care about spilling yours?” Medea yawned. “Having said that, I think it‘s time to move on to the killing. If you’d rather I use something other than the knife, now’s the time to say it. If you can think of a more... exciting weapon, I’m open to suggestions.”

  Aurora spat in Medea’s direction, but the projectile missed its mark.

  Medea sighed. “The knife it is, then.”

  Aurora closed her eyes. This was it. It wasn’t the first time she had anticipated her own death, but this was truly the end. This time, there was no escape. The knife would pierce her heart, or slit her throat, or—

  Or Noxor would come soaring through the cottage door, blade drawn. He swung his sword at his wraith brethren, who hissed in pain and released Aurora from his grasp. Aurora toppled to the floor, and Medea let out a shriek of distress.

  “Noxor!” Medea hollered. “Noxor, what are you thinking?!”

  Noxor yanked his sword from the other wraith’s back, and pointed the blade at Medea. “Aurora. Run.”

  “But—!” Aurora didn’t have time to react. Medea unleashed a bolt of fire from her fingertips, aiming it at Noxor. She missed. Noxor flew to the ceiling, hovered for a few seconds, and came spiraling down at Medea with incredible speed. As their duel continued, Aurora rushed over to Lyric. Now that Medea’s concentration was otherwise invested, her spell on him was broken and he sat up, looking dazed. Aurora helped him to his feet and pulled open the door to the oven. Greta crawled out of the oven with a terrified sob, and Lyric scooped her up in his arms. Together, the three of them ducked down and ran from the cottage, leaving Medea and Noxor to battle.

  When they were out of the cottage, they were greeted by a strangely comforting sight: the wolf, Cerberii, was dead. Its carcass had already attracted a vast number of flies. Aurora had another reason to thank Noxor, as she assumed it was by his hand that the wolf was slain.

  “Which way?” Lyric shouted.

  “Uhhh...” How was she supposed to know? She was so rattled, she couldn’t even remember which way they came from. “Uhh, this way!”

  They started to run in the direction indicated. She didn’t care which way they were going, as long as she put distance between herself and Medea. They ran for what felt like forever, until Lyric couldn’t take it anymore. He lowered Greta to the ground and doubled over, panting.

  “Are you alright?”

  “She’s... she’s...” Between breaths, Lyric pointed at Greta. “She gets heavy after awhi
le. Do you think we’ve gone far enough?”

  “I think so.” As for catching her breath, Aurora wasn’t doing much better than Lyric. She sat on the ground and buried her face in her hands. When she didn’t move for several seconds, Lyric sat beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

  “Are you alright?” Lyric returned her question.

  “Yeah...”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.” She stared at Lyric’s hand, which continued to rest on her shoulder. “Did you... could you hear what Medea said?”

  Lyric winced. “Yeah. I couldn’t move, but I could see everything that was going on.” He shook his head. “Sorry I couldn’t do anything.”

  “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

  “What doesn’t matter?”

  “You know...” Aurora slid her hands away from her face and hoped he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “The fact that I’m not really a princess. It doesn’t really matter, does it? It’s not like I ever cared.”

  Lyric shook his head. “You’re still the queen’s daughter, aren’t you? In my eyes, that would make you a princess.” He turned his attention to Greta, who was lying on the ground in a fetal position. “That poor girl. She’s been through a lot. That must have been terrifying.”

  A choked sob escaped from Aurora’s throat. She covered her face again, because she couldn’t stop the tears from coming. She didn’t want Lyric to see her in such a vulnerable state. She hated to cry in front of him.

  “What am I talking about? You’ve been through a lot, too.” He wrapped an arm around Aurora’s shoulders, cradling her as she cried. She turned toward him and buried her face against his chest. She hated to cry, but for some strange reason—it felt nice.

  It felt nice to be comforted by him.

  Too nice.

  All of a sudden, Aurora was stricken by a sickeningly obvious revelation.

  She was in love with Lyric.

  Chapter Eight

  I

  BUT IT WOULD BE FAR too humiliating to tell him how she felt. Knowing Lyric, he would probably boast about how he’d been right all along. He would probably say something like, “I always knew you wanted me,” and she didn’t think her heart could take it.