Before Midnight (22 page)
“No one has the right to rule,” Irina insisted, scorn giving her voice a harsh edge. “Not over every person and every creature. Ruler is just another word for tyrant, and Dacia doesn’t need any more of those.” She narrowed her eyes, thinking of Serafina’s smug face. “It has plenty already.”
“Irina, you are playing with fire. Serafina has overlooked your treasonous behavior so far, but if she believes you are truly a threat to her power, she will kill you.”
His voice broke on the last word and Irina stopped and put a hand on his arm. She tilted her head to look into his eyes. “Viktor, are you afraid for me?” she asked gently. “I’ve made no secret of the fact that I don’t believe any one person should rule the fate of an entire kingdom. It isn’t just Serafina’s grip on this area that I want to break. Eventually, I want the entire kingdom to be free.”
The blood drained from Viktor’s face. “You speak of unseating the royal family.”
Irina nodded slowly, not wanting to upset her friend further, but unwilling to lie. “It isn’t right for one person to rule the lives of an entire people,” she said firmly. “Even the high king himself shouldn’t have that right.”
Viktor collapsed to his knees then fell forward onto all fours. The bag at his side hit his leg and spilled its contents into the snow.
“Viktor!” Irina dropped to her knees beside him and put her arms around his shoulders, covering him partially with her cloak. “My friend, do not worry so. Serafina hasn’t killed me yet, and she’s had plenty of opportunities.” Irina bit her lip, silently debating with herself over how much to reveal to Viktor. Despite their years of friendship, he was still Serafina’s servant. She had no idea how much control, magical or emotional, the sorceress had over him. Finally, she made her decision.
“Serafina consulted her magic mirror about me,” she confessed, her voice low despite their distance from the castle. “I overheard part of it. The mirror told her that I’m the key to a new kingdom. It said—”
“It said your heart was the key to a new kingdom,” Viktor whispered.
A frown pulled down the corners of Irina’s mouth. “I think those were the words. But how did you…?”
The huntsman let his head fall as if he could no longer hold it up. He groped beside him and Irina finally turned her attention to the objects that had fallen from his bag. The first was a chest of some sort, ornately decorated with gold and gems. The other was a large hunting knife. Unlike Viktor’s other knives, which Irina had seen on numerous occasions, this one was intricate and as bejeweled as the chest. It had an almost ceremonial look to it. Viktor held the chest up and Irina noticed the engraving of a heart with a knife through it.
“I don’t understand. What are those for?”
The objects fell from his hands and cold fear doused Irina as Viktor began to sob. His shoulders trembled with the force of his despair and Irina couldn’t help but pull away, suddenly needing to put some distance between herself and the blade.
“Viktor, you are scaring me.” Her voice came out hoarse, almost lost to a sudden gust of icy wind.
“Irina, I can’t do it. You have been like my own daughter these past twelve years, I cannot do what my queen has commanded of me.”
The misery was so thick in his voice that Irina hardly recognized it. She took another step back. She didn’t want to ask her next question, didn’t want to know the answer. Still the words flowed from her lips in a breathless whisper. “What did she command you to do?”
“I was to bring back your heart in this box.”
Irina pressed her lips together, smothering the cry of dismay that tried to escape. She stared at her friend, all the while backing away. “Viktor,” she choked.
The huntsman raised his head, torment pulling the lines in his face into ever deepening creases and his eyes shining with his pain. “Irina, you must run. Run far from here, far from Serafina’s reach.”
“There is nowhere I can run,” Irina protested, her chest growing tighter with every word. “She can find me anywhere. Her mirror…”
“Irina, you are loved by so many creatures, so many smaller factions within this territory. Any one of them would take you in, the fey, the
leshii
, the
vila
, even the
rusalki
would likely welcome you. Surely one of them could give you sanctuary?”
Irina shook her head, her entire body trembling as the full weight of the huntsman’s words fell on her. “Viktor, I could not ask that of any of them. To stand up to Serafina politically is one thing. But if she wants my…” she swallowed hard, “my heart, then she will kill if necessary to get it. How could I ask that of my friends?”
“She would not go against the high king,” Viktor whispered.
The sheer ridiculousness of the suggestion would have made Irina laugh if she wasn’t so terrified. “The high king would be even more likely to kill me than Serafina if news of my…political views have reached as far as you say.” She closed her eyes, fighting not to sway on her feet. “There is nowhere for me to run.”
Viktor’s hands closed like twin vices on her arms and Irina screamed as she opened her eyes. The huntsman’s green eyes bored into hers, fierce determination written across his face. “You will run and you will hide,” he ground out, emotion taking some of the edge off his voice. “I will not see you dead, Irina.” He pushed her away and stooped to pick up the box and blade. “I will slaughter a pig and offer its heart in your place.” He grabbed her hand and Irina whimpered as he squeezed her thumb, forcing the wound to reopen again. Her blood trickled into the box he held open underneath it. “This will not fool Serafina for long. You must go now!”
A sob broke from Irina as she stumbled back and fell into the snow. Viktor gave her one last look before plunging into the forest, searching for the pig that would buy her precious little time. Irina stared back into the distance at where she knew the castle sat, and within, Serafina in her glass coffin.
“I will return one day, Serafina,” she whispered, not even caring when fear made her voice waver. “You will pay for all you’ve taken from me.”
Without another look, she turned and darted into the forest, praying that she would find safety…somewhere.
Read more of ONE BITE
If you like the BLOOD PRINCE series by Jennifer Blackstream, try the KINGDOM series by MARIE HALL
Preview of HER MAD HATTER
Chapter 1
Danika, fairy godmother extraordinaire, ran her glowing hand over a shadowy bump in the mushroom cap wall of her home. It was the hiding place for her most treasured and valuable item-- her wand. She grabbed hold of the smooth wood, the hum of its power echoing down her fingertips like the swelling vibrations of water dripping on thin metal. Worn down from years of granting wishes. She was the best at what she did. No doubt about it.
Of course that stupid fat cow- oh what was her face, the one who worked with Cinderella- thought she was the best. But honestly, what was her claim to fame? Turning a pumpkin into a coach? Or, how about making mice footmen?
Preposterous.
She was a disgrace to all the fairy godmothers out there with her ridiculous bippity-boppity-booing.
Not to mention her clientele. That simpering little doll-- a classic Mary Sue if ever there was one.
Oh save me, Prince Charming, for I am pretty and cannot do a thing for myself.
*Bat lashes, wiggle bottom, ad nauseum.*
Blah!
Pathetic little creature. Danika would rather gouge her eye out with a spoon. A rusty one! And... and... roughened at the edges. She humphed. That’s how much she hated the simpering princes and princesses of her world.
Thankfully, she’d never have that problem. The moment Danika had graduated from Fairy Godmother Inc.- three hundred years ago- she’d applied to work as godmother to the lowly. Since none of the other godmothers wished to work for them, they’d given her the position posthaste and left her to do her thing. Quite happily too, she might add.
Danika worked for the bad boys of Kingdom.
The degenerates; low lifes, and naughty villains. She snorted, shaking her head at how little anyone knew about her boys. Why any self-respecting fairy godmother would pass them over for an inane twit who relied on animals to do her housecleaning was beyond her. Grabbing her star-dusted cloak from off the coat rack, she tossed it over her shoulders. Glittering bits of stardust drifted to the floor.
A golden bolt of power flowed down her arm, through her fingers, and out the tip of the wand. It swirled like a flame, dousing out the candles. She shut the door behind her.
Tiny iridescent wings broke free of her vest, lifting her high into the bejeweled night. Her path cut through trees with branches thick as the fattest snakes.
Stargazers shivered at her passing.
“Thank you, Fairy Godmother!” they crooned as the stardust settled on their beautiful pink petals. They swiveled on thin green stems, lapping up the powder like a fine wine.
Danika winked, gave them a jaunty wave, and continued on. Most days she’d stop to chat, maybe sing a song or two, but tonight she traveled in haste.
Once a year, the Bad Five (the truly worst of the worst of her boys) gathered, to drink, to discuss who’d they’d plot against next, and generally muck it up together. It was perfect timing for her-- because she had five birds to kill and one stone to do it with.
Miriam the Shunned-- fairy godmother of wishes and visions-- had given Danika some sobering news last month. Either get the Bad Five hitched, or great misfortunate would befall them.
Not like Danika hadn’t made many love matches already. Her resume was quite hefty. Why just last week Mr. Fee Fi Fo Fum himself had fallen madly for the wicked witch of the West. Next month was to be their nuptials. Danika had received her invitation to the gala only today. And last month she’d introduced Tweedle-De to La-Di-Dah, sparks ignited, and Danika was fairly certain there’d be a second wedding in the future.
Danika was good at love matches when given sufficient time, but love matches weren’t as simple as poof there she is, kissy kissy, and sailing off into the sunset. Finding a perfect mate took patience and due diligence. To suddenly be told the Bad Five had less than a year to find their mates... the thought twisted Danika’s stomach in knots.
Not like Danika hadn’t tried already, many times. But love was much more than chemistry; it was a melding of hearts and minds. Of seeing someone and knowing unequivocally she or he was
it
.
Thankfully, Miriam had owed Danika a boon. There’d been an incident several years ago, one nearly forgotten by all but Danika and Wolf. A sad affair really… Danika shook her head, shoving the haunting memories aside before they grew too strong and claimed her thoughts, now was not the time to think on that, eventually she’d have to address the wrong and pray to the gods she could make it right. But today was for her boys and thanks to Miriam’s
sight
Danika now knew the names of the women, the very ones her boys were destined to be with.
But she’d been shocked. Not at the names, rather at the reality of just how close she’d been to finding Hatter’s match once before. All within Kingdom knew
Alice
was destined for Hatter. Their story had been entwined since the very beginning; problem was of the millions of Alices in the world, ‘twas hard to know exactly which one she was.
When Danika was around a viable option her entire body would tingle. Her body had tingled many times and each time she’d been wrong. But a few years ago she’d come across an Alice who did more than make her tingle; her body had surged with power so intense that Danika had momentarily blacked out.
Her name had been Alice Hu.
Miriam had told Danika that Hatter’s true match was also named Alice Hu, great-granddaughter of the original. And Hatter had
hated
the original.
Flapping her wings harder, Danika tried to ignore the sick pit in her stomach. She’d agonized about this all night and finally came to the only conclusion there was: she would not tell him who the girl was beforehand.
A squawking noise broke her from her musings. Startled, she looked up and just in time too. A large white stork carrying a blue bundle in its long beak headed straight toward her.
“Stork!” she cried, and beat her gossamer wings in a furious fashion, hoping to sail clear of the sharp dagger that was his beak tip. She clutched her chest, breathing deep to calm frazzled nerves.
“Mmm, so shorry, Danika. Muss make me drop time, hiss Excellenshe will tar and feather me if I’m late.” His words were slurred, unable to open his beak too wide lest the babe drop out.
“Honestly.” Danika straightened the ends of her dress in an attempt to settle herself.
The stork didn’t pause, but he dipped his head in apology. Ruffled, but not vexed, she nodded back. He was, she supposed, in a hurry much as herself.
A tiny green fist poked out the top of the bundle.
Danika curled her nose.
She hated ogres, no matter what form they came in. Nasty little boogers they were, always smashing through trees, destroying her precious forest home with their big gigantic ham fists and warty feet.
