Beast

by Maya Emmerich

  Chapter 7

  Leona widened her eyes. She stood up, watery eyes straying to Destin. She quickly ran over to kneel beside him. With shaking fingers she checked for a pulse. She hadn’t expected to find one. “You killed him,” she whispered.

  The beast stared at her. It was not my intent. I only meant to help. I was trying to get to you.

  Leona closed her eyes against the pain. “All the same. What will we do?”

  She heard a heavy thump behind her, and looked to see that the beast had slumped against the wall. We, dear one?

  Leona’s lips trembled. Her eyes clouded, filled with black. Who else? How else could she live? Her mother, along with the only man who would ever show enough pity for her to wed, now lay breathless in the cottage. Because of her. Because she had made a choice- and now she must live with that choice.

  She took a deep breath. In her view, the beast started to focus, and with a clarity that brought her to hysteria, she realized that he was all she had left. This kind creature was her only hope at survival. And he, too, was about to depart. Choking out a sob, Leona quickly rose and yanked a blanket from under her mother. She threw it about the beast’s middle, tying it tight to stop the flow of blood.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “We.”

  She sniffed, ready to dry her eyes and be done with her tears. Her past was long gone- to weep for it would only bring ruin to her future. She had to let go. The moment she stepped from the cottage, she vowed she would start anew, never look back, never again think about the broken dreams and promises she had stepped out of. Instead, she would work, and eventually, perhaps she would move to another small village, marry… Her heart ached. But she knew nothing else! How could she- how could-

  Hushing her rushing thoughts, a new one suddenly burst free, putting all others on a shelf in its importance and urgency. Alarm filled her head and she recalled the doctor’s horror filled eyes, and she gasped. “They will come for you,” she whispered. “We must flee. Now.”

  She grasped his paw, and tried to pull. He would not move. Fear snaking through her heart, she realized that his eyes were closed. “Beast!” she cried, “You must be strong! Please- I will take care of you- but for now we must go!”

  For a long while nothing happened. Then, a weak voice filled her head, filling her with hope all at the same time. You will not leave?

  Leona sobbed out, “Of course not. Now come.” She tugged again, and this time, he came, one slow step at a time, out into the cold and into the waiting carriage. Luckily he had strength enough to climb inside, and though his breathing increased, he stayed with her.

  She rode the entire reckless ride beside him, stroking his head, murmuring words of encouragement. She tried to not let her fear show through. For even though she was deathly afraid of loosing him, afraid of his death, afraid of what she would do if…if she couldn’t…talk to him, or… She took a deep breath. She needed to ensure that he was calm.

  As the carriage rolled to a halt in front of the castle, Leona jumped out, dashing to find Mrs. Kingsley, but the woman was already running out to greet them. “Mrs. Kingsley!” Leona shouted, rushing to grasp her arms. “You must get help- he’s- there’s been a fight and he-”

  Mrs. Kingsley gasped when she saw him. “I knew he shouldn’t have gone!” she whispered frantically.

  Where are we? Are we safe?

  Leona took his hand. “Yes, dear beast, we are. We’re home.”

  Home? Whispered though her head.

  Leona nodded. The driver had run to get help, and came back running with five giant men, who shoved Leona and Mrs. Kingsley away to lift up the beast. He howled as they started to carry him.

  I ache, Leona. Save me.

  Leona’s heart went out to him, the poor beast that had only tried to help her. Whose only intent had been to protect. Despite everything…despite how selfish he’d been, what a beast he claimed to be, really, how was he any different than her? If she hadn’t been so selfish as to deny Destin months ago, her mother would have still been alive.

  She ran after the men, following them up into a large room. The room was filled with nothing but pelts of fur strewn about the ground. She figured this must be where he slept. They placed him carefully in the center, and Mrs. Kingsley came forth to carefully strip away his make-shift bandage.

  “I tried to stop the blood,” Leona explained. “It was all I had.”

  Mrs. Kingsley looked grim. “This will take a miracle, child.”

  Leona covered her mouth with her hand.

  Leona. Leona’s eyes snapped to the beast’s. My lab. Near my desk…there is a plant. Use its juices. It…heals.

  Leona quickly nodded, dashing out of the room, stomping up the stairs in her mad haste. She had to save him. She just had to.

  She plucked the plant’s leaves bare and ran them through one of the beast’s many machines, dismayed to see that even with all that, she only had but one vial of juice. She stared at it, breathing hard, and closed her eyes to pray that it was enough.

  Leona’s feet could barely walk fast enough, her hands not quite steady, her breath not yet stable. She shoved through the heavy doors to the beast’s chambers to find it empty, save Mrs. Kingsley. She sat still, beside the beast, one hand splayed carefully over his heart. Silent tears rode down her cheeks to her chin, to disappear within the folds of her heart. The beast’s eyes were closed; yet he was breathing steadily. As Leona approached Mrs. Kingsley looked up, her eyes begging for good news.

  “Save him, Leona. Please.”

  Leona’s eyes watered.

  Mrs. Kingsley gripped her hand, breath catching. “He means everything to me.”

  Leona knelt down beside her and the beast. “I know,” she said softly. “He is all I have left as well.”

  Mrs. Kinsley’s grip tightened and her eyes narrowed. “What?” she breathed.

  Leona took a deep breath and shot her eyes away quickly. “My mother is dead. The beast…” Leona frowned, remembering. “She called him my prince.” She laughed a bit, as she started to unravel the bandages placed on his wound.

  Mrs. Kingsley had let go of her hand, and when Leona glanced up to see how she reacted, she paused. “Your prince?” Mrs. Kingsley asked curiously, albeit a bit cautiously.

  Leona shook her head. “I think she was delusional in her…. Well.” Leona laughed roughly. “A prince for a barmaid…well. I suppose he is, isn’t he? My knight in shining armor. He saved me. Ruined me and saved me. No more than I’d already ruined and needed to save myself.” She said the last bit hushed, looking down, the wound bared. She felt tears prick her eyes again, but she held them back. She had to be strong.

  The fur around it had been carefully shaved, revealing his smooth, white skin, marred by the ugly, gaping gash with crusted blood about it. She held up the vial, brow creased. “I think I just pour it on,” she said. Then she looked up at Mrs. Kingsley. “He had another cut, in his stomach- I think-”

  “I bound it already. It is not much. This one is…” she didn’t finish.

  Leona quickly nodded and pulled off the cork. She carefully tipped out the liquid onto his skin, startled into stopping when it started to fizzle and bubble.

  Mrs. Kingsley’s frown was deep, but she said, as Leona reached for a towel to wipe it off, “Don’t. He knows what he’s doing in there.”

  Meaning if the beast had asked for it, it would work.

  As they waited patiently by the beast’s side, Mrs. Kingsley said softly, “You say prince as if it were lunacy to believe him human.”

  Leona looked at her. “Isn’t it?” she asked. In her voice was scorn, but in her eyes held her heart, waiting for an answer to put to rest or blossom her silly thoughts. Leona did not know if Mrs. Kingsley could see it or not.

  The woman smiled thinly, and whispered, “No more than it is for you to accept his love.”

  Leona’s eyes widened. “Love? How can a beast love? How…” her voice started
to crack. “How can you love a beast?”

  At this she felt the traitorous tears try to rebel against her restraints again.

  “I love him, Leona,” Mrs. Kingsley said. “Love doesn’t need five fingers and bare skin to grip us,” she said as she rose to her feet.

  Leona’s lips tightened. “I know that. But he’s-”

  “As human as you and I. Just look at him!”

  Leona looked back to the beast’s face. She saw his fur, wet nose-

  “He sleeps. Exhausted. By day he troubles over vanity and greed, by night he worries himself into a sleepless rest. He breathes, his heart beats- and he thinks of you. Oh Leona, can’t you think of him too? Not of his body…but of his soul?”

  Leona was gripping the beast’s paw in her two hands. Her grip tightened. “Are you asking me to fall in love with your beast?” she sake acidly.

  Mrs. Kingsley’s eyes blackened. “I asked you to save him. That’s all.” She turned to leave, opening the door, but before she left, she looked back and said, “I would think that you, barmaid, would not be so quick to judge others by how they appear.”

  Leona’s mouth dropped as the door clicked shut. She felt her heart pounding and her cheeks heating with humiliation. Mrs. Kingsley had never once called her barmaid. Not only that…never had she felt more like the filthy beggar that she was. She felt shamed, to have denied him his humanity, yet claimed it so willingly herself, through her faults and vanity.

  What really did make her more human than him? Her pink flesh? Her short, stubby fingernails? Was that really all there was to the word? He felt pain. He cared for her. He felt guilt, remorse- greed. Anger. He was no beast. His faults were as great as her own. His mistake of taxing the kingdom, she had called beastly. His greed and selfishness to keep Carolyn and his laboratory- what made that more beastly than Carolyn’s vanity, her cruelty? How had Destin’s selfishness to not give unless he got become so much less in her mind, compared to the beast’s kindness, his willingness to give to her, help her- her! A woman whose hair would never quite stay in its cap, whose cheek was forever marked with dirt, whose dress was forever destined to be ripped at the hem? Her, a woman who couldn’t even see a man when he stared into her eyes and told her he’d fight all her fears for her, who would rather die than see her tears slide down her cheeks?

  “You’re doing a poor job of it,” she whispered with a sad laugh. She sniffed and shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Had I not been so caught up in my own selfishness to be more than who I am…perhaps I would have seen who you truly are.”

  Had she not always wished that her mother would see beyond her apron and into her soul? Had she not wanted her entire life to be regarded as someone worthy of love, of a man to take care of her, not just use her and bark orders for ale at? So what made her so different…than him?

  Leona’s grip tightened on his paw. “You called me a rose,” she whispered. She choked on her words as they tried to stumble out, felt her stomach reach for breath as she strained to speak. “I called you a beast, and all you ever- all you ever had to say- was that I was beautiful.” She closed her eyes and bowed her head. “My friend, I would do anything to repay you,” she whispered, “for baring my soul. For giving me the chance to show you who I was…instead of who I told you I was.”

  She sniffed. When she opened her eyes again, she was caught in his deep, dark stare. She smiled a little, thinly.

  I see you, Leona. So clearly.

  Leona laughed a little. She reached up to stroke his head with her hand, tracing his face to his chin. “I know,” she whispered.

  A heavy thudding shuddered the door behind them. The beast tried to raise his head and fell back, faint.

  Leona frowned and shook her own head, saying sternly, “No. You lost too much blood- you need to rest.” She stood, walking to the door. Mrs. Kingsley stood behind it. Leona knew what was wrong as soon as she saw the fear shining in the old woman’s eyes.

  “Torches- up the path- I can’t-”

  Leona gripped her arm and shook her head. Mrs. Kingsley opened her mouth to say more, but Leona cut her off with a fierce look. “I’ll handle it,” she said lowly. She walked back to the beast and knelt down.

  Torches? They’ve come. He tried again to rise, and Leona knew with a hard pang in her heart that he was far too weak to fight them all. Far too weak to do anything but watch as they came for him with swords at the ready to-

  She sucked in her breath and shook her head quickly. “Not to worry,” she said with a tight smile. “I know these men- If I- If I just…” she felt her lips trembling and took a deep breath to steady her racing heart. She knew what she had to do. And she was terrified.

  I cannot let you face them alone, dear one, I must-

  “No!” she said forcefully, finally pushing him hard to the ground as he tried to get up. He stared at her, at a loss for words. He must have seen the fear in her eyes, for he again tried to argue, but she cut him off with a warm smile.

  “Don’t you worry,” she whispered. She reached around her neck, pulling over her head a thin gold chain. His eyes narrowed, and then widened when she unclasped the hook, and looped it around his neck.

  Leona-

  She shushed him as she fastened it. “I will see you again, my friend.” She reached up to touch his face again, and then took another deep breath as she felt her hands start to shake. “Goodbye,” she whispered. She got up quickly and walked to the door, shutting it behind her.

  Mrs. Kingsley still stood outside, and Leona grabbed her arm and walked her a little away from the door to whisper urgently, “I don’t want him to leave that room. Please. I’ll go out and meet the men- they won’t come here, but I don’t want him going to them. Understand?”

  Mrs. Kingsley gripped Leona’s own arm in return, puzzled, worried. “I- yes, but what are you-”

  Leona shook her head sadly. Then she smiled a little. “I can’t let him die, knowing that he never had a chance to live,” she whispered. “You were right. I can’t be selfish anymore- I have to give him his right as a human being. To live, love-” Leona cut off to turn away, but Mrs. Kingsley turned her back around.

  “What right? What are you saying? Why would he die?”

  Leona closed her eyes for a moment. “He killed a man tonight,” she whispered. “And there was a witness. Who lived.”

  Mrs. Kingsley was in enough shock to let Leona go. Leona started dashing down the hallway, startled when a strong grip pulled her back.

  Leona was but five feet from the door; she turned around to yell at Mrs. Kingsley to let her go when the woman asked sharply, “So why do you go? What good can you do?”

  Leona struggled free. “I can turn him into a fairy tale!” she cried.

  Mrs. Kingsley stepped back a few steps, eyes wide, as Leona flung open the door. Night air rushed in to swirl her skirts and push her cap off her head. Her hair went flying about her, mixing with the flurries that poured in behind her. “They can’t kill fictional monsters, Mrs. Kingsley. Only reality can do that.”

  Mrs. Kingsley shook her head, “But how! What about the body! How can they believe you with proof-”

  She stopped cold at Leona’s small smile. “I love him. I’ve lived my life; I’ve nothing left but him. I can’t go on, if he is no longer here, with me. He still has a chance- he has you. He needs this life more than I ever would.” Leona laughed harshly. “Barmaids never triumph over princes!” she shouted as she stepped out into the snow.

  She heard Mrs. Kingsley’s shrill cry of, “No!” as Leona let the wind slam the door shut behind her.