Spelled Page 3

  The wind picked up slightly and chills inched their way up my spine. Cue creepy feeling that I was being watched—and not just by the frog, who was giving me the evil eye from under Verte’s hat. I looked around, hoping to find the boogeyman that had caused my chills. Sure enough, staring at me through the ballroom window was quite possibly the most fearsome creature in all the realm—my mother. She shot me a look from atop her gold- and jewel-encrusted throne, which practically screamed that her patience was thinner than my father’s hair.

  Leaving Verte behind, I wove my way through the party, which was well past its prime. I had a little trouble getting by Snow White’s little friends floundering around the punch bowl. One of them was trying to pry off Cindy’s glass slipper. I’m not sure if he wanted to play prince charming or try on the high heel himself.

  Once I maneuvered past them, I walked up the plush red carpeting, and my queenly mother ushered away all the lingering servants with a wave of her royal hand.

  Standing up straight, I squared my shoulders and put all those years of princess training to good use. I hoped. “Mother, Father, I must insist that you stop all of this prince nonsense,” I started. Clear, concise, and with authority. “After tonight, there’s no point in inviting any more of them to the palace.”

  Before going on, I looked to my dad first to see how I was doing. If rubbing your temples with a grimace was a good thing, I was set. Mom’s expression was more difficult to decipher—part bemused, part shark.

  She rose from her throne and stalked toward me. “I agree. In fact, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about all afternoon.”

  “Really?” I squeaked.

  She placed an arm around my shoulders. “Yes. You see, that love at first sight you hear naive princesses go on about is not real.”

  Wow, two talks in one day. This must be a record. But as long as it got me what I wanted, I’d bear it.

  Her voice turned soft. “True love is a lot like those lilies you favor. At first glance, it can be prickly and ugly. But with time and care, a precious blossom can grow. Unfortunately, we have neither at the moment.”

  I wasn’t really sure where this was going. “So just to be clear, you don’t expect me to fall crown over heels for one of these princes I just met?”

  “Correct. But civility and an open mind make a very good start.” The queen spun me around until I faced a young man with blue eyes. Not sapphire, like the stalker’s—this color blue was much colder. Like ice water. The rest of his expression looked frosty to match.

  “You!” I stomped toward him. He’d changed his clothes and combed his hair a bit, but I was still definitely staring down the gardener from before.

  “Yes, and most unfortunately you as well.” He sighed and crossed his arms. “After meeting you earlier, I’d hoped you had a twin sister with a better temperament.”

  My mother’s cough sounded an awful lot like a laugh. “I see you’ve already met Prince Kato. That should make this a lot easier.”

  “Or harder,” Father mumbled.

  “Did you all drink the punch? Just look at him. This guy is no royal. Unless he’s Lord of the Stableboys or something.” I corrected my previous judgment and wrinkled my nose since, up close, he smelled more like animal musk than dirt.

  The air around him cooled, and with almost no movement, his posture changed. He hadn’t grown an inch, yet the prince towered over me with a wry smirk. “Then you’d better get used to being Lady of the Stableboys.”

  I turned to my mother, hoping for an explanation, but knowing I wasn’t going to like it.

  She sighed heavily and held her head like she was getting a migraine. “Perhaps you understand why I tried to do this earlier in a more private setting.” She turned her glare at Kato. “The king and I had hoped to gently let everyone come to terms with the idea—”

  “That would change nothing,” the prince said, daring to cut the queen off. “The wedding is in one month and I will return the day before. She has that much time to get used to it.”

  I couldn’t breathe. “Wedding…month?” I managed to wheeze out.

  No way. I would rather lick a toad. I would let a wicked old hag bake me into gingerbread before I married this son of a basilisk who had the gall to look amused while I hyperventilated.

  Kato motioned to a nearby footstool. “You should sit down before you fall over and embarrass yourself further.”

  My palm was in the air before I had even made a conscious decision to smack the smug off his face.

  But it never landed.

  His grip felt strong around my wrist. His hand was chapped and rough—from hard labor, I’m sure. And his fingernails were black. Not painted black. Actually black. One of them was even broken off in a contemptuous lack of good hygiene.

  “You are a disgusting beast,” I snarled.

  Instead of holding me off, he yanked me closer and lowered his lips to my ear so only I could hear what he was saying.

  “And you are a useless princess who knows absolutely nothing of the real world. You would be the very last person I’d choose to chain myself to. But apparently both our kingdoms—no. The whole realm needs this alliance, so what we want doesn’t matter. I will do what I have to do, regardless of my personal feelings, and you will do the same. So sit down, grow up, and start acting like the kind of princess your people deserve.” He snapped off the last syllable and abruptly let go at the same time so that I stumbled backward.

  That was it. Politics or not, he was going down.

  I launched myself at the prince, and the next thing I knew, my feet were in the air and my father’s arm was around my waist, most likely preventing an interkingdom incident. He hauled me back and dumped me unceremoniously on his oversized throne.

  “If you’ll excuse us for a moment, Prince Kato,” Mother said while Father held me down. “I need a word with my daughter.”

  “By all means.” The prince bowed low and retreated. “Perhaps you will have more luck.”

  “What has gotten into you, young lady?” my father demanded in a hushed yet urgent tone, a stern look frozen on his face—a look I was used to seeing from my mom but not from him. He was usually the nice one.

  I made a big, round gesture meant to imply everything. “What is that beastly prince talking about with alliances, and how could I be engaged anyway? I never agreed to anything. I’m pretty sure betrothal involves both an asking and an acceptance.”

  My mother chose to respond. “There was. Prince Kato explained why he needs you, and in your absence, we accepted on your behalf.”

  “What?!” My jaw dropped. This made no sense. Why would he need me? He didn’t even like me. Both he and my parents were out of their fairy-lovin’ minds. Out loud, I said, “Is that even legal?”

  My mother scoffed and pointed to her emerald crown. Oh yeah. The queen of the Emerald realm could do whatever she glam well pleased. “Once we explain everything to you in detail later—”

  “No, I want to know now!” If my fiancé (bleh) could interrupt her, then so could I. “What’s so important that nobody cared how I would feel?”

  Father at least had the decency to look mildly ashamed. “Well, you see, it’s rather complicated. But we figured you wouldn’t mind, since you never showed any interest in the other princes—”

  “Maybe I have no interest in getting married. To anyone. Ever. I mean, look how well yours turned out. You do everything she tells you, and then go hunting for weeks to hide while we’re stuck in this gilded cage. No thanks. If I want to boss someone around, I’ll get a dog.”

  Immediately I knew I had gone too far. Even if both my parents hadn’t gasped from the barbs of my sharpened tongue, my own heart was ashamed to beat within my chest. Before I could take it back, my mother hardened her face and gave me the look she was famous for—the one that caused grown men to fall on their knees and beg forgiveness before they were sentenced to death.

  Her nose came within an inch of mine. “Contrary to your spoiled
little beliefs, this is not all about you. This alliance is necessary for the safety of the entire realm. If, as crown princess, you do not feel a responsibility to protect your kingdom, then by Grimm, you will follow the rules of this land and obey your queen.”

  What started out as a rumble in my mother’s throat had ended in a roar. Before, only those close to the thrones could hear what was going on; now, everyone in the room went quiet and still as statues.

  My face heated—from shame, anger, humiliation, frustration… Pick one. There had to be a way out of this. Tears threatened along the edges of my lashes, but I willed them away. I’d rather be boiled and feathered than let them all see me cry.

  Every eye turned to me as I rose to regal height with my nose ever so slightly in the air. On the outside, I was as cold and unfeeling as a block of ice. Inside, a fire of indignation burned brighter and hotter than the three suns.

  I walked away from my parents. Each step brought me closer to a confrontation with the prince, who stared at me with pity now, instead of his usual disdain.

  I searched for something, anything, to ground me and keep me from running away. Once again, the twinkling stars on the Story Spruce caught my eye. Wishing had never worked before, but then again, I’d never been this desperate. With the tree too far away, I reached in my pocket for the next best thing. My hand clenched around the child’s star, the earlier cut flaring to life.

  I wish I didn’t have to do this, that the rules and everything else governing this stupid world would just disappear, and I’d never have to listen to my parents ever again.

  The ache in my hand shifted from a prickle to a burn. I pulled it out of my pocket to take a closer look. It was glowing. Well, my hand wasn’t glowing, but the star was. I opened my palm, and rays of light shot out from the gift. Dots seared my vision.

  I was light blind. Unfortunately, I could still hear, but the noise made me wish I was deaf as well.

  Glass cracking. Someone screamed. And roaring?

  What in Grimm’s name was going on?

  “Rule #23: If you keep a storybook villain talking long enough, they will never fail to spill all the details of their evil plan. Some might even draw you a diagram.”

  —Definitive Fairy-Tale Survival Guide, Volume 2: Villains

  5

  A Nightmare Is a Wish Your Heart Makes

  When my vision cleared, I had no idea where I was. Surely it could not be the same party. It looked like a war zone. The floating chandelier had crashed and shattered on the dance floor, freeing the now-dark floating orbs. People ran madly for the exit. Some were being chased by pickax-wielding dwarves, to say nothing of the ogres. The floor was littered with frogs. Hopefully they weren’t enchanted princes, because some of them were getting squished by the mob.

  I looked around for familiar faces. The beautiful people I had known since birth had changed or twisted into things nearly unrecognizable. Rapunzel remained by the treat tables, her hair now lying completely in the éclairs, with not a strand atop her bald head. By the punch bowl was a giant pumpkin—wearing glass slippers. A ferocious growl drew my gaze to the back of the room, where a hairy beast wore a yellow ball gown. I tried to block out the memory of Beauty in that dress earlier this evening.

  Shutting my eyes, I shoved the star back into my pocket and willed everything to go away. This had to be a nightmare. Any minute now, I was going to wake up in bed, under my golden-goose down comforter. There would be no party, no beasts, and no engagement.

  I needed to wake up. Then I needed therapy.

  What was it that you’re supposed to do—pinch yourself? Somebody did it for me. My eyes snapped open from the needle-sharp pricks to my toes. “Ow! That…”

  A little ball of fur chewed on my slippers, not caring that my feet were still inside. I’d never seen another creature like it. It had the auburn-colored body of a lion cub, but it also had nubby horns, wings, and a dragon’s tail. Its little black talons scratched at my leg; then it stared at me with accusatory ice-water blue eyes.

  “No pixing way! Prince Kato?”

  The look of disdain the little fuzz bucket gave me was all the proof I needed.

  This was all too crazy to be real, but the pain debunked the whole nightmare idea. But maybe there was an upside to this. There was no way I could marry Prince Kato now. I just had to show my parents…

  Where were my parents?

  They were gone. The only signs they’d ever been there were their two emerald crowns still spinning on the ground.

  Nothing else mattered. I’m not sure how long I stood there frozen—seconds, minutes, hours. I was semi-aware of Kato tugging my gown and growling. Too bad, runt. My attention stayed focused on the spot where I’d last seen my parents.

  Until the clapping.

  My head reared in surprise. The sound sliced through the chaos, clear and crisp and completely out of place. Making her way up to the dais was the little girl from the garden. The opal necklace flashed with brilliant orange and red streaks against her pale skin.

  She ceased her clapping long enough to scoop up my mother’s fallen crown and place it on her head. But it was much too large and fell down over her eyes and ears.

  My back stiffened automatically in response. Nobody touched my parents’ stuff. “Freeze, you freaky munchkin. You’ve got two seconds to drop my mother’s crown.”

  “I suppose this child has outlived its usefulness,” she said in that broken-crystal voice. Her eyes narrowed and flashed silver; they were slitted like a serpent’s. Her lips set into a thin line while she made some complicated hand gesture and uttered a few words under her breath. Then she disappeared into a puff of metallically specked gray smoke.

  When the smoke cleared, instead of a child, a tall, lithe woman stood in front of me, her oversized pewter gown fit like snakeskin now. The woman still resembled the kid, with her porcelain-pale skin and silvery hair, but she was all grown up, and her ageless beauty was mesmerizing. Looking at her was like being hypnotized by a siren—right before she capsized your ship.

  Kato was not impressed. He gave a low grumble in his throat that snapped me out of my stupor.

  “Who the spell are you, and what did you do with my parents?” I demanded.

  The woman ignored my question and casually pulled a looking glass out of thin air, admiring her reflection in it. After her magical growth spurt, the crown fit perfectly.

  “You may call me Queen Griz,” she finally answered with a satisfied smile. She stopped preening and focused her attention to me. “Thank you for cracking open the barrier, by the way. I’ve been meaning to stop by for ages but never had the chance until now. It’s such a shame I have to kill you. You would have made an excellent villain. After all, you’ve caused more damage in one afternoon than most henchmen do in a lifetime. And I didn’t touch your parents. The blame for their loss lies squarely on your shoulders.” She punctuated the your by pointing the mirror in my direction.

  Instinctively, my body recoiled from her and her accusations. “Liar,” I snarled. “I have no magic.”

  “Tsk, tsk.” Griz let go of the mirror, where it stayed suspended as if held by strings. Now that her hand was empty, she made a few more hand gestures, and I felt my cardigan lift.

  Panicked, I held my clothes down, afraid she was trying to magically strip me. But she wasn’t interested in swiping my designer clothes to go along with the stolen crown—just the contents of my custom-made pockets.

  The star that Griz’s previous incarnation had given me floated up and away, into the air. As if some glamour had been pulled away, I saw the gift as it really was—not a poorly made child’s craft project but a grisly magical artifact.

  “Bone, hair, and blood. I hadn’t factored in the blood. The star should have just killed you outright as the cost for granting the first shallow wish that came to mind, but whatever’s in your veins protected you and reflected the hex outward a hundredfold. Little wish, big consequences.” She smiled wickedly and flung th
e star back at me.

  I caught it just before it smashed into my face. The word wish echoed in my ears. I hadn’t wished for this, not really. All I had wanted was a way out of the stupid arranged marriage. I was just tired of the rules, tired of being told what I could and couldn’t do.

  I’m absolutely sure I hadn’t wished for this disaster.

  An ill-worded wish is worse than a curse, the old adage whispered in my mind.

  Not helping, I thought back. It would be okay. I’d just take it back. That’s how these things worked. I closed my eyes and gave it a try. When I reopened them, my world was still in pieces.

  Maybe the dumb thing needed more juice. I squeezed the star and allowed the jagged part to cut my skin again. Then I shook it for good measure. That always helped when my spellphone was on the fritz. “I wish to unwish it.”

  Nothing happened.

  Hunched over in high-pitched, off-key laughter, Griz fell back and collapsed on my mother’s throne. “Oh, you are just too precious. You can’t take it back. You’ve already ripped the fabric of magic. The threads of fate are unraveling as we speak. Even if I were so inclined, I’d have no idea where to begin stitching it back together.” She wiped tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes.

  My heart broke. Add it to the list of things that couldn’t be stitched back together.

  Glancing around for some means of escape, I could see that the room was mostly cleared. None of the other guests who had stuck around seemed inclined to help me. Beauty looked ready to eat me herself.

  Griz stood up again and smoothed her dress before advancing on me. Making a dramatic show of large, circular movements with her arms, she gathered a mercuric ball of lightning. “Finally, it is time for the House of Emerald to fall.”

  “Why?” I said, stalling for more time, stepping slowly in reverse. It was a dumb question, but the bad guy always takes time to explain their whole wicked plan, giving the hero a chance to save the day.