Dreamer of Briarfell: A Retelling of Sleeping Beauty (Fairytales of Folkshore Book 7)

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Dreamer of Briarfell: A Retelling of Sleeping Beauty (Fairytales of Folkshore Book 7) Page 20

by Lucy Tempest


  All the tales of the Underworld spoke of the River of Sorrow, where asphodel flowers grew in the Grey Fields, and souls roamed in desolation. And here they were, as real as anything I’d ever seen.

  But this couldn’t be right. I shouldn’t be here.

  I did everything everyone asked of me, always. I did everything the curse required of me. I got a fairy king to declare his love, and pledge himself to me. This was exactly how my brother’s curse had been broken, exactly what the Spring Queen wanted.

  So, why didn’t it work? It had felt like it had been working. But now I was in the Land of the Dead.

  But I wasn’t dead.

  I couldn’t be…could I?

  No. I was not accepting this fate.

  And to do that, I had to conquer my shock, get out of this macabre field.

  I moved at last, rushing away from the wandering souls until I crossed some kind of ethereal border, and entered a darker stretch of land.

  The ground seemed carved from obsidian, stretching as far as I could see like an inverted night sky sprinkled with stars. But there was no sky here, only an encompassing dome of darkness and desolation.

  A path embedded with raw gems eventually appeared before me, and giant, glowing crystal stalks lit my way. Their brightness was being sucked ahead, and soon I saw where it poured. Into another river, a bright, lulling green this time, with whispering poppies growing on its banks. This had to be the River of Memory.

  It led somewhere deeper into this surreal realm, the flowers growing in number as I followed its stream, as if they were directing me into the unseen depths to my predestination. I thought I could make out the outline of a mountain in the distance, with a cavern in its side. But as I approached, it looked like some kind of edifice, mind-boggling in size…

  “Fairuza?”

  I stopped with a gasp, thinking the worst, that a psychopomp had come to collect me to my allotted afterlife.

  But there was no black-winged man, or a hooded figure bearing a scythe awaiting me. There was only something, someone climbing out of the river. A girl.

  No older than me, she had wavy, red hair that brushed the backs of her knees. Or it would have been red if her entire form weren’t so faded, like a painting that had been left out in the sun for months.

  Hazy as her features were, I would have recognized her anywhere.

  This was Princess Ariane of Tritonia!

  She’d been with me in Cahraman. From the day I’d arrived, to being one of the Final Five, to becoming Nariman’s hostage in the palace for months, until we attended the joint weddings of my uncle and aunt, King Darius and Princess Loujaïne.

  And here she was, in a worse condition than mine, up to her knees in that eerie river.

  But what if this wasn’t her? What if this was some sort of apparition?

  Though, why would something appear to me as her? Being a princess, she’d been the only one I’d considered worthy to be pitted against me in that infernal contest. When we’d both lost, I’d thought she’d sail back to her island to marry some oligarch. I hadn’t paid her any thought since. There was no reason anything should manifest as her to me, now of all times.

  In trepidation, I floated away. “Ariane? Is it really you?”

  She waded closer, encased in the faint glow of her white peplum gown, her ethereal green eyes having no pupils. Her mouth, a mere outline now, quirked in a sad smile. “What’s left of me.”

  The horror of confirmation spread within me, rustling my nerves like wind through leaves. “You…you’re dead.”

  “No need to rub it in.” She jerked her chin in my direction. “Looks like you are now, too.”

  I furiously shook my head. “No. Not yet. I still have time.”

  “If you’re not a shade, then what are you?”

  Shade. That’s what she was. Less than a ghost.

  “What happened to you?” I whispered.

  Ariane’s monochrome eyes somehow managed to convey more heartbreak than I could have imagined. “I made a mistake, but I fixed it. I think. And now I’m here.”

  “What mistake?” When she only shook her head, I tried another question. “Ariane, how long have you been here? When did this happen?”

  “That depends. I believe it’s still summer now, isn’t it?”

  Summer? No, it was spring. But…

  Faerie! Time moved differently in Faerie. And if it was already summer, then more time than I thought had passed. I didn’t have any longer to waste, not before I ended up like her.

  I reached for her, hoping that our similar states would make us tangible to each other, that I could pull her out of that river.

  My fingers barely made contact with her arm, but I still urged, “Come with me, tell me where your body is.”

  “It isn’t.”

  Before I could ask what this meant, howls shook all of existence around us.

  Ariane ducked back into her river, looking up at me in desperation. “Fairuza, if you can leave, you need to go now!”

  “What’s happening?” I cried.

  “He’s coming!” she hissed, shaking with terror. “He’s coming, and if he sees you, you won’t leave!”

  I didn’t need to ask who He was. The howls grew in volume and number, an ominous chorus of hellhounds ushering in their master. The Horned God.

  Paralysis had long sunk its claws into me before I saw the shadow of his antlers elongating along the ground. Just as soon as I did, I felt myself being yanked back through a tight, dark tunnel.

  Within my next heartbeat, gone was the Underworld. In its place, a circular room flared around me, full of floating candles, with a group of hooded women sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounding me, chanting.

  Where had I travelled to now?

  One stood and threw off her hood, bearing a face I had never wanted to see ever again. A haggard face, with ash-pale skin, long blackened nails, red sunken eyes, and a vicious smile that brought to mind the silent snarl of a predator.

  Marzeya, the Witch-Queen of Zhadugar, that autonomous magical city in the north of Cahraman. And the deranged woman who had thrown me to the ghouls in Mount Alborz.

  “I see you’re having an interesting trip.” Marzeya moved her arm through my middle, a sensation that made me shudder. “I’ve been wondering how you’d have your out-of-body experience.”

  This reminded me of what was arguably the most important thing about this witch: her access to knowledge seen only through the veils of time, past or future. She’d known Ada was an imposter, and had given her accurate predictions. She seemed to have known about my current condition in advance, too.

  Maybe she could tell me what was going on, and how to reverse it. “You know what this is?”

  She inclined her head. “Yes, the amendment to your curse left you stranded between life and death.”

  “Can you tell me what I’m doing wrong about breaking it?”

  “And why would I do that?”

  “Last time I saw you, you gave two girls of my party predictions about their fates. The least you can do after subjecting me to those ghouls, is offer me the same courtesy.”

  “Oh, yes. Ada didn’t heed all of my warnings, got herself into a spot of trouble, but it all turned out in her favor in the end.” Marzeya’s red eyes lit up, intrigue curling her dark lips. “As for that big blonde beast, she’s in for a world of excitement.”

  She meant Cora. I waited for a clarification of what she meant by “excitement.” When she didn’t, I asked, “Is she?”

  Marzeya coughed out a smokey, deranged laugh. “Exciting for me as a spectator, certainly.”

  I thought of the strange, wandering dream I’d had as I’d first left my body, of the blonde girl in the farmland, and the being that emerged from beneath the earth to snatch her away from the moon. Did those visions have any weight to them?

  I shivered. “What’s going to happen to her?”

  “Aw, since when do you care for anyone but yourself?”

>   Once, that had been true. Beyond being involved with my own curse, I’d always felt I couldn’t spare worry beyond my immediate family, with my father being at war, and my brother devolving into a monster. But since my life had been derailed in Cahraman, I’d learned that empathy wasn’t finite, it could spread to anyone who needed it. Now, with Robin’s example, offering help wherever he went, at any cost to himself, the least I could do was care.

  And then, despite how antagonistic our acquaintance had been, Cora had come to my rescue. Had I been the same self-absorbed princess I once was, I would still owe her a debt of gratitude.

  I glared at Marzeya with the intensity of my newly-forged conviction. “I care.”

  Marzeya only turned her gaze downwards, like she could see through the ground, and into someplace far below. “It is rarely a good thing to be worth the gods’ attention, or their envy. So many pretty girls earn the ire of goddesses, just by existing, but that girl…” Marzeya chuckled ominously. “She’ll turn the heads of deities, and will pay dearly for it.”

  I felt my very being chill at her dire predictions.

  As if that wasn’t enough, Marzeya’s gaze flitted back to me. “As for you, there’s not much to say as you’re already hanging in the balance. But I will tell you this: You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Marzeya hummed absently as she looked around the room where the rest of the witches and even the candle flames seemed to be frozen in time. “You heard me, dearie. You’re purposefully seeking out fool’s gold, as if any crown will be the right fit.”

  “I’m doing what the Spring Queen’s curse wants of me, I’m seeking out the noblest of men, and now, a fairy one at that. Following her requirements worked for my brother! The only difference between us was that waiting for the right one to come to me was not an option.”

  Marzeya laughed again, seeming delighted by my confusion and despair. “The right one didn’t just happen upon your brother. It wasn’t fate that led her to him.”

  “Yes, it was! That witch threw her and her father in Rosemead, threatening to offer them to the Beast she thought Leander truly was, and—”

  “Nariman Rostam never intended to make good on her threats to our dear Ada. She just got rid of her stowaways in the first stop she could, and then used them as incentive to make Ada work hard for her.” Marzeya pointed through me, as if at something only she could see. “The only thing in common between your curse, and your brother’s, isn’t his solution, but the catalyst of his rescue.”

  “The catalyst was Bonnie!” I insisted. “The daughter of a fairy princess who said she loved him. That’s it!”

  Marzeya gave a piercing cackle. “I’m sure she willingly sauntered to his castle when she heard of the man-eating monster, ready to declare her undying love and get the handsome prince at the end.”

  I threw my hands up in frustration. “You make no sense at all!”

  “Dearie, it’s not my fault you’re thicker than a cinderblock.”

  Tension gripped my jaws. My body must be grinding its teeth to powder right now, thanks to the irritation this horrid woman inspired. “Give me a clear answer, I beg you.”

  “Now, where would be the fun in that?”

  I groaned, curling my fists, making her laugh harder.

  “It’s not that hard, princess. All you have to do is ask the right question. What led that girl to your brother, and what made her different than any pretty girl your family could have sent his way?”

  “I don’t know what led her to him. But I suppose it was her determination that made her different.”

  “Determination for what?”

  I searched my memory for the relevant bits Bonnie had told me, when I tried to glean what I could replicate from their experience. “To not fear Leander, then to go to whatever lengths it took to save him, and those caught in his curse, as well as her father and Ada, who she thought were in Faerie.”

  “Sound like someone you know?”

  The search for a good comparison landed on only one man, and he was the only one without a title.

  I only stared at her, frustration tearing me apart.

  “Now, get out of here. You interrupted my summoning.” Marzeya waved her hand in my face.

  Before I could blink, I was sucked back into the dark tunnel.

  A heartbeat or an eternity later, I blinked back to somewhere drenched in brightness.

  But though it was sunny, I was no longer in the Summer Court, but in an environment similar to my kingdom’s countryside.

  I could see rolling hills covered in fields of wheat that shone like gold in the midday sun, while in the near distance, vegetable patches spread. All similarity to my kingdom ended when I saw the unearthly colors of the produce, the giant upright rabbits, and the carts being dragged by flying horses.

  This was the Autumn Court!

  Before I could wonder how I got here, I realized two more things: I couldn’t sense the weather like I had before, and I heard voices.

  Bracing myself for another apparition, I turned around in their direction just as Amabel neighed sharply, and Robin spun around, gaping at me.

  Then he blurted out, “How are you here?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  With everyone staring at me in shock, I could only shake my head mutely. I had no idea how I’d come back. Or why I’d gone to the Underworld in the first place.

  Agnë and Meira finally jumped off their steeds, and rushed towards me, eyes filling, speaking over each other.

  “We thought it worked, and you returned to your body!”

  “We thought King Theseus broke your curse!”

  “We thought you’d wake up, and the thorns would be gone, and they’d come for you!”

  “We should have gone straight from the Summer Court to check on you!”

  I shook my head again, but this time I had an answer. “You would have found nothing changed, since I wasn’t there.”

  “If you didn’t return to Briarfell, then where did you go?” Robin asked, looking as distressed as I felt.

  Trying not to think of my encounters in the Underworld or Zhadugar, I ignored his question, looked around. “Where are you heading?”

  Will approached me awkwardly. “The Summer King told us my sister was alive, and with the Wild Hunt in the Spring Court. Alan offered to lead us there, through his realm.”

  I nodded, still dazed.

  “Why didn’t it work?” Meira looked and sounded at her wits’ end. “He was a king! He said everything right!”

  “Perhaps just like you miscalculated your amendment, you are misinterpreting the curse itself?” Robin suggested, never taking his eyes off me.

  My fairy godmother made an affronted sound like a whistling tea kettle. “Misinterpreting—! There was never any doubt about the curse’s terms! It is to be broken by the love of the noblest of men. Once Fairuza’s betrothal to Prince Cyaxares was assured, we believed it would be him. Why do you think we wasted all these years, and we’re in this situation now?”

  Robin ignored her rant, took a step closer. “Fairuza, what happened?”

  I couldn’t escape his question this time. “I don’t know. One second I thought it was working, the next I thought I was dead, then I was back here.”

  As if to comfort me, Amabel lowered her head towards me, but when I instinctively reached to pet her—I couldn’t feel her at all.

  Terror blared through me as I raised my shaking hand in front of my face. It was a barely-there outline that was as see-through as glass. In my mother’s culture, this would be the gesture to ward off danger and bad luck, or what they called the evil eye. Many hung hands with blue eyes on their walls, doors, and from their necks. But now nothing could stop the dark magic consuming me.

  “I’m literally losing my grip on life.” I giggled hysterically, locking eyes with Robin’s pained ones. “Just like you said. The tether to my body is thinning the longer I stay away from it, and the longer it sle
eps.” My laughter choked into a wheezing whisper. “You want to know where I went? I was where true ghosts reside. I went to the Underworld. Probably a warning that my time is running out.”

  “This is all my fault.” Meira stared at my disappearing hand in a daze. “I should have left it alone, shouldn’t have interfered and made it worse.”

  Will grabbed her by the shoulders, snapping her out of her stupor. “If you hadn’t tried, she would have long been dead, with no hope of bringing her back. We still have hope, because of you.”

  I knew he was right. But that hope was fading right along with pieces of my body, and I couldn’t help the resentment and futility that rose through me like bile.

  Robin watched me, unblinking, as if afraid I would disappear again, which I could any moment now. “We’ll talk to that queen once we reach her realm. She’s sure to remove her curse now you’ve done everything she demanded.”

  A bitter huff rattled through me like chimes in the wind. “Leander and Bonnie almost died trying to reach her, only for her to send them away. What makes you think it would be any different with me?”

  “There has to be something we can do!” He sounded so wound up, as if the time limit was his. “Didn’t Agnë say we have her king left?”

  Agnë stumbled closer, words tripping over each other. “Yes. King Yulian. He was abandoned by his betrothed just like you, Fairuza. If there is anyone who will understand your situation, and be the one to break your curse, it’s him. He is under a terrible spell as well, so you two could be each other’s salvation!”

  Robin forced a smile. “That’s even better, since the Winter Court is closer. Once there, Agnë will introduce you to her king, and he’ll break your curse!”

  Unable to douse his attempted enthusiasm by saying I might not have enough time for that anyway, I only nodded.

  After everyone got back on their horses, the others rode ahead, with Robin giving Maple to Agnë, leaving Amabel for me. He walked beside us, leading her by the reins, wordlessly helping me since I now had only one hand to steer her with. And for a long while, we continued the trek through Autumn in silence.

  Like Arbore, trees were everywhere, but most were types I’d never seen. All they did was keep bringing back Marzeya’s cruelly cryptic words. You’re barking up the wrong tree.

 

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