Kingdom of Villains and Vengeance: Fairytale retellings from the villain's perspective (Kingdom of Darkness and Light Book 2)

by Laura Greenwood

  Shoo, shoo, I whispered, or maybe I said it only in my mind — quite likely — but I made the broom speak for me, so the birds dashed and dove like in some fantastic ballet.

  I only wanted them to stay away from the dough, my sweet and lovely cinnamon roll dough, the highlight of my day. My, oh, my, they were swift and daft, these birds, a spark of life here in the darkness, a spark of liveliness…But every time I watched them come and go, dance, I was reminded of the impossibility of the task. Moments like this, I admired the magic on them so much it hurt.

  It was quite incredible to watch, really. The demon had trapped Aurora into a non-material state of being and robbed her of a way to walk in the world. That was huge. That kind of thing required so much magic it was beyond me. And I’d fought so hard to learn the spells to give Aurora a form to move in — the bird — and even that had been a giant feat, and this was all I could do.

  Infuriating!

  But here we were. About to have cinnamon rolls. What else was there to do?

  Of course, I could throw in a pinch of magic and feed bits to the birds…

  Just like I threw ample handfuls of magic into any item, nowadays, that could serve as a weapon. I’d had this thought the other day…

  If I put all my powers into magically-charged items and hid them around the castle, the demon would have less to harvest, should he drop by.

  So now there were things bursting with magic in the silliest places—glow-in-the-dark brooms hidden on top shelves, sparkling wicker baskets in the kitchen, and radiating knitting needles.

  I was preparing for a war.

  And I’d win it yet. This wasn’t over.

  Chapter 18

  The moment I lifted my eyes from the cauldron bowl — silent, with nobody replying today — I met the opaque gaze of the demon, who stood at the kitchen door.

  His eyes looked disconcertingly familiar, as they were so much like mine own in the mirror. In fact, my stare in the sole, lonely mirror in the third-floor bath was hardly me at all, nowadays. I was another kind of creature entirely, a foul thing. A different kind of beast. Not human.

  I drew a long breath to be able to speak. “What do you want? Are we finally done? Are you here to get us out, or do you still want something more, you greedy monster?”

  “Just a morsel of your powers. I need to repair a few things.”

  “Still more? From which reserves? Didn’t you already take my all?” I snapped, surprised at myself, but yes, the situation had made me bold and brash. What was there to lose by temper tantrums, anyway? The demon was not going to care whether I spoke nicely or not. He did not care for my feelings, or Aurora’s life, nor mine.

  “Now, now, we went over this. Your heart keeps making more, so why are you making it into such a huge deal?”

  “Maybe it should be making magic, but you know what, somehow it’s not as good as it used to. I seem to be losing powers…I wonder why that is? But I do feel quite constrained here in this castle…” I rested a wrist to my forehead and added a faint little moan. “I wouldn’t bet on harvesting much more of myself energies soon if I were you.”

  Yes, because half of my powers were going into the random hidden vase behind the curtain, the broom shoved under the bed, and the pots and kettles I’d hid behind the books in the bookshelf…That’s where my magic reserves were going, preparing for me to snatch them up again and to power me up when I wished.

  It was risky, of course. I couldn’t imagine what the demon would do if he found out. He could throw me down with one swipe, simply strike me dead, and I had little chance of putting up a fight.

  Truthfully, I worried the demon would notice how the underside of my bed cot was practically seeping with magic forces right now, with the makeshift weapons I’d charged with my powers already.

  But with all the magic over every surface in the castle, I was sure a little extra might go unnoticed in one spot, because what was a little more in all this? I noticed, but I knew where to look and I had decent eyes. Also, perhaps I was so accustomed to the castle already that I could spot the little differences with more ease than those who hadn’t stared at these walls for long, long days. The demon might throw careless glances at the magic all over and pay no particular attention.

  The demon’s wrinkled expression turned thoughtful, if one could say that of his face which hardly bent to any emotion.

  “You could be right,” he grunted. “I am aware that fae hearts don’t produce magic well in captivity. And you do seem famished, somehow…Apart from growing a pair of rather handsome horns, I must say.” He raised a gaunt hand to wave toward me. “Commendable horns you have there.”

  “I hate them! If you can somehow get them off, they’re all yours.”

  “Oh, too bad, I’m afraid that’s outside my jurisdiction. Even magic follows its own rules and regulations. My master would not let me live another second, if I stole your horns, too.”

  I threw him an inquiring look. My horns, too? What else was he stealing, then? Was he simply referring to our deal? Or was he admitting to stealing my magic for his own use?

  “Never mind, I must rush to work. This won’t hurt…” The demon grunted, and at that, pulled at something invisible in the air, and it was as if again some vortex or tornado had sucked out my magic and sent it whirling on the winds.

  A strange undertone caught my attention. I was sure it had always been there, but this time I paid attention and it was so clear it couldn’t go unnoticed…It was as if some darker power flowed in to fill the void in me.

  I literally saw the powers flowing in the room, smoky and clear ribbons of different magics intermingling.

  Then he was gone. And I was left shivering, with an empty feeling inside.

  With a thought, I brought my hands to my horns. They’d grown again, just like that, at least several inches more! What in heaven’s name had he done?

  Oh, I got it now! Ooh, I got it—that foul darkling and his filthy tricks! He was taking so much of my magic he had to put in something for replacement, so he was putting a bit of his own! That’s how I was gaining demonic traits and senses.

  And that explained the horns on my head.

  He had to be taking more than I could have given — it would have killed me unless he replaced them with demonic powers. He’d grown too greedy. He wanted powers of fae…

  But then, he wasn’t sticking to our deal. Then he’d cheated.Then our agreement wasn’t valid…

  If I could prove this!

  To whom?

  Chapter 19

  The cauldron sat silent on the kitchen counter.

  I’d tried my best once again to call Elsa, Loreleine, or anyone who might be listening, but today the cauldron wasn’t working even on my own end. I wasn’t getting even a whiff of magic. Perhaps that was because the demon had just depleted me of so much of my powers again and my demonic energies weren’t any good for this.

  That also explained why he never caught me calling through the ether: apparently, ether was off-limits to the lousy creatures.

  Good riddance then; let them stay out. But I’d have to wait awhile to be able to call again. Perhaps I could have revived myself with some of my stored-magic items, but a gut feeling told me to save them for a rainy day.

  A worrisome thought pestered me. While my cauldron calls had got through, sometimes, perhaps I could only reach Rachel, because Rachel was so closely tied to the curse? It would have been a sad thought to succumb to the fact that she simply was the only one, apart from me, who used cauldrons and magic-charged seeing eyes nowadays. My sisters could have done it. Should have. But the Fae Queen had robbed them of their magic…

  I’d been to the door again, just there, to look outside. The demon had visited last night, and I’d hardly slept, waking up at the small hours. So, I’d wandered to the lower floors and to the door. It was a cold morning, with frost on the roses outside like pretty icing on cakes. The quiet and still landscape had somehow emphasised, in my mind, how the castle
would eventually drown in frosty rose vines and gentle snow, with nothing but silence inside for eternities, if I didn’t find a way out of this.

  So, I’d succumbed and decided to call the ethers again. That was, I’d lifted the blocking spell, so anyone could hear me, whoever was on the lines. Here I stood, with my swaying horns, for anyone to answer—

  Just then, with a familiar stench, a vision appeared with that familiar aura. And it was Rachel again. By blazing bats, was this wench the only person in the whole wide world I could reach? Wasn’t anyone else listening in to the ether frequencies?

  It was obvious Rachel wasn’t aware I was watching this time. And strangely, it seemed Rachel was closer, now. I could sense it in a way I couldn’t pinpoint. I simply felt her presence, loud and clear. I could even place her location roughly on a mental map. She was toward the North, not far away — but how far, exactly, was hard to tell. She felt stronger, more present. Her and that monster of a king had to be approaching me.

  Surely, they were locating me. They had to be closing in.

  But good! I had to have someone to tell of the demon’s foul play. And I had to have someone come in and break the walls. And it had to be someone with magic. Let them come, then…Why not?

  Of course, they’d try to kill me, but maybe they were my only hope, in all actuality. Who else could have found me from the ethereal realms and come to me? I needed someone to come in and end this madness.

  My seeing eye hovering in the air strengthened into a window, and through it, I saw Rachel and King John treading a snow-covered field in a blizzard. They weren’t looking at me, and I wasn’t seeing their faces, only their silhouetted forms, knee-deep in snow. They’d wrapped themselves in scarves and wools, and walked bent forward in the wind.

  Was it the heart of winter? Of which year?

  I knew they were closing in.

  Come in, come in…

  Welcome to my meagre house.

  Chapter 20

  The vines hung down from the balconies and walls. Enticingly, alluringly, they cascaded in front of the door and gently swayed on the wind, but that didn’t fool me anymore. I could even see the faint blue magic around them. It was my talent, after all, seeing the magic charges of items, if there were any, and detecting spellbound things.

  This web was so intricate and skilfully woven I hadn’t understood it at first, hitting my head like I had. I’d thought it was mere magic mist, a spell. But now that I knew what to look for, there it was: solidified spells, a proper wall. It was fine work, that I had to give to whoever had constructed it, even if it had been that foul demon. I could hate his guts, but I had little else to do than admire his work.

  Sometimes I stood like this and watched the vines and whatever took place in the yard, if anything. A rabbit could come and eat the dried-up straw among the snow; a family of deer could wander past. I’d seen them from time to time, and many other things, some of them quite out of this world, too phantasmal or surreal to make sense to the human mind. But no people in the yard. Not once.

  Sometimes I simply watched the roses swaying, to pass the eternal-seeming time. The doorway looked so deceivingly promising. It veritably seemed an open doorway, a way out. It could have been the way out. So, standing here, I could at least imagine I was just about to step past these flowers and into the snowy banks, just about…almost.

  Almost.

  Chapter 21

  As I reached up to set yet another pair of woollen socks onto the pile, my horns got stuck to the candle holder over the lounger I was slouching in.

  Baffled, I slithered free and backed away, holding onto my aching horn. I hadn’t checked on my horns for a while — I liked to forget they were there — but they had grown to quite a formidable size. I’d carefully avoided mirrors, and it was no trouble, as I was used to that, with my eye and all. It wasn’t much different now, with a good eye, but a pair of gargoyle demon horns…Which was better? Alas, I cared precious little, nowadays.

  Without a bad eye or without horns, I might have been a beautiful woman, but what use was it to fight fate? Wasted energy. There was nobody to see me, except for those two little birds. And anyway, I was not a young girl anymore, anxious to meet her prince. Might as well accept it; mirrors were never my friend.

  The horns did worry me, though. As long as the demon kept taxing my powers and substituting them with his own, I would be changing in form more and more by the day. I expected my eyes to keep changing for the worse as well. When would they be fully demon? And what thoughts would then be in my head? I was feeling the first shades of it already. I was dreaming at night of strange things: of dark waters, of lands without light. Places I didn’t know, yet ached for.

  And yes, perhaps I would even start to see and think as the demons did, the sinister things, the darklings. In a strange fashion, I was looking forward to it. Or, not so much, looking forward to it…But since it was going to happen anyway, I was curious to see what that would reveal.

  Demons could move a lot of magic. Perhaps I would still get to experience a little something in this life that I’d never seen coming? Some days, I put my hopes into that. All my hopes. Everything.

  Perhaps I’d be the first demon in history that brought down the entirety of their kingdom. A spy. A rebel. An unforeseen assassin.

  Let’s see. Bring it on.

  Chapter 22

  I was carrying a bowl of raisins from the pantry to the reading room when in the dark corridor I stilled to stare at something odd on the floor: a bright speck of color. It appeared to be a blue feather, but not a whole one…?

  On closer look, it might have been a whole one, but only half visible, because the feather was sticking out of the stone wall.

  I knelt down to pull at it. Yes, the feather went into the wall — or the wall unto it, however, one wanted to think of it, as it was disorienting — but it was as if they’d melted together. And somehow, this feeble, soft thing pierced the hard, grey limestone.

  How could a feather do that? It couldn’t.

  I squinted to see if there was magic on it, but then, all of this madness, everywhere around here, was painted with layers and layers. Even the air inside all these dim, confusing rooms of dank smell and old mold was thick with it.

  Careful, I leaned closer to touch the feather with a fingertip. Nothing, in particular, happened, except that it felt soft, as feathers do. It was a pretty light baby blue, and I imagined it must have been the blue bird’s feather, dropped in passing. But I couldn’t for the life of me understand how it could be molten into the stone.

  I gave it another gentle pull. It moved a quarter of an inch. So, I pushed it deeper in and, incredibly, it obeyed — I could push it through. My hand stopped where it met the stone, of course, but the feather went inside as if sinking into molten butter. Almost out of sight. I stifled a yell. This thing was able to go through the wall!

  I quickly pulled the feather back and cupped my other hand protectively over it, holding onto the stem as hard as I could. Closing my eyes, I simply sat, a thousand thoughts rushing through my head.

  This was a godsend. The most valuable single thing I’d ever held in my hands, worth its nonexistent weight in gold a million times.

  Because if this little feather could escape the castle, maybe I could send it outside with some kind of a spell to carry. A message.

  I might never catch Aurora on her wings since she was enchanted by that devilish demon’s spells…But this feather? I had it right here. And it was going to take my message and carry it out of this hell.

  This would be my message in a bottle. My way off my prosaic deserted island. The solution. My salvation.

  I almost wanted to give the feather a big kiss! But that would have tickled…I resolved to raise my eyes to the ceiling and simply try to calm my erratic breath.

  This changed everything.

  This. Changed. Everything.

  Chapter 23

  I poured the last of the magic from the candelabra onto
the blue feather lying on the floor. The feather shivered in the currents of magic, curved up as if happy to drink up all the powers. I gave the candelabra a shake. That was it, the last of four magical items’ magic. Then I recited the lines once again. Maybe this was overdoing it a bit, but there was no room for mistakes. I was going to send this feather off absolutely loaded with magic, and it was going to fly like a beautiful prayer.

  With my heart in my throat, I picked it up and carefully slipped it into the stone in the wall, exactly where I’d found it.

  It sank in, so I pushed it in completely until my index finger met a wall. I had just enough time to feel the feather take off on its own, as it vanished out of sight.

  There. Fly, fly to freedom…

  Then it was time for patience.

  Who would be here first? The king and his witch or my brave sisters?

  Let the waiting begin.

  Chapter 24

  I was just about to blow on the roses cascading around the door to the yard, to perk up their still-life-like leaves and to see them sparkle and sway, when I heard the galloping of a horse outside. Was this real or a mirage, now, it was as hard to say as usual, but I put down my wand of rosewood and turned to look.

  No, there were more horses than one, the others likely following some distance behind the first, the loudest. And then I heard it — the sounds were accompanied by the bright, energetic laughter of young men, mixed with screams of encouragement and yells that clearly urged someone on.

  A white horse came to sight with thunderous speed and appearance, from behind the bend of the road, ridden by a man who’d bowed down flat against the horse’s back, hanging on tight, his arms wrapped around the neck of the horse.