Read Two and Twenty Dark Tales Online
Authors: Georgia McBride
Tags: #Fiction, #Short stories, #Teen, #Love, #Paranormal, #Angels, #Mother Goose, #Nursery Rhymes, #Crows, #Dark Retellings, #Spiders, #Witches
“Ungrateful girl,” she cast over her shoulder, grand plumes waving in a sudden wind.
And I was. Sullen and eyes downcast, I was unprepared for the flapping of frantic wings. The hawk and the dove circled the marketplace, crying out to me.
“Stranger! There’s a stranger headed for the clearing!”
I abandoned the herbs and money upon the table and ran for home. My heart pounded, a hammer upon an anvil, and my cloak streaming out behind me almost lifted me from my feet. Without thinking, I pulled my hunting knife from its sheath. Though I wanted to fly in, claws outstretched, I forced myself to approach with stealth.
The blacksmith was a ragged excuse of a man, but he still had strength and fury enough to choke the life from his son. Ayden was on his knees before him, red-faced and struggling to breathe.
“Ingrate,” his father spat. “Snot-nosed toerag. You’ll not run away from me again—”
My knife found the soft spot alongside of the blacksmith’s neck before he could finish the next ugly accusation. “Let him go.”
It took longer than I would have liked. When Ayden fell forward into the leaves, he didn’t move. So very still. I was reminded of my mother, dead on the hearth.
The blacksmith slowly turned to face me. He narrowed his eyes—the color of mud, not moss—and snorted. “Who do you think you are?”
I didn’t owe him my name. “Leave this place and don’t look back. It’s bad luck to look back.”
“This is the king’s forest,” he said with all the bluster and blow of a spring storm. “You’re trespassing here.” His gaze drifted to the drying racks. “And poaching, by the looks of it.”
“Everything here is mine.” I never let my knife waver. “Given to me by tree and bird.”
“Mad talk!” The blacksmith looked into the trees, noting the presence of the hawk and the dove, the peacock and the bullfinch. “You… you’re the herb woman’s whelp. The one we put out of the village all those years ago.”
The hawk landed on my shoulder. “He killed his wife.”
The dove trilled in agreement. “She was going to leave him.”
Before the peacock could silence her again, the bullfinch screeched out, “He killed the miller’s daughter all those years ago! Drowned her in the pond! We told your mother… she knew. She knew.”
She knew. The birds had told her. And the blacksmith had killed her for it.
The blacksmith somehow knew that I now possessed the darkest of his secrets. “So they’ve told you. Nattering pests. I should have wrung their necks.”
And yours.
He didn’t have to say it; I saw it in his eyes.
I loosed the hawk upon him, let her take those murderous eyes with her claws. He went down with a scream, and I followed the noise to the ground, my cloak rustling like wings. The whispers had been right; I was more animal than child when I cast aside my knife and tore open his softest parts and pulled flesh from bones. My claws shone with blood and soft sunlight. His cries were like music, fading like a violin after a long, last note.
A glance at Ayden revealed that his chest yet moved with the shallowest of breaths. Before he could wake, I dragged the blacksmith’s body into the tiny stone sanctuary. Without caw or comment, the birds helped me pull the stones down upon him. When the cairn was done, I pulled the leather pouch of coins from the owl’s tree. Ayden groaned and rolled over as I approached him, his eyes yet closed but his mouth twisted into a grimace. Kneeling in the leaves, my bloodstained fingers pressed the money into his open palm. One step back, and then another. Only a few more and I’d step out of the clearing, never to return…
“Don’t fly away without me, little bird.” Though Ayden’s voice was no more than a rasp, he staggered to his feet.
“I’m no fit companion for you,” I said hoarsely. “For anyone. Your father is dead by my hands.” I jerked my chin at the cairn.
Not a glance did Ayden spare for the heap of stones that had played hearth and home to us these last few weeks. When he took my hand, he didn’t flinch away from the blood crusted under my nails. “No daughter of the village need fear him now.”
I let my fingers twine through his, thinking them like jesses put upon a hunting bird. I might fly far and fast, but I’d return to him, wherever that might be. “To the golden sands, then.”
We quit the clearing with the birds flying ahead as the first flakes of snow started to fall.
– The End –
Little Miss Muffet
Georgia McBride
Little Miss Muffet, sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey;
Along came a spider,
Who sat down beside her,
And frightened Miss Muffet away.
– Mother Goose
S
ECRETS
were hard to come by in Clemente. Our town was small enough that we had only one school, and Delia Redhood’s grandmother catered all the events, whether wedding, funeral, or graduation party. Mrs. Oladen, who ran the foster home up the street, knew each of the students at Clemente Day School by name. After all, she was also its kindergarten teacher, and taught each of us at one time or another.
Then there was Dad. Considered a widower by the townspeople since Mom disappeared nine years ago, he took over Kingsmen pharmacy to keep busy. Believe me when I tell you, it’s pretty hard to keep secrets from a pharmacist. When Humphrey Dumwooley climbed to the top of the clock tower and jumped, neither Dad nor EMS could help him. It was Dad who’d tried to intervene at first when he learned the troubled boy hadn’t filled his prescription for anti-depression medicine in months. And that’s just the kind of town Clemente was: everyone knew almost everything there was to know about everybody else. Almost.
What we really and truly wanted to remain hidden, we hid and hid well. Secrets that were old, dark, and horrible stayed buried under lies, half-truths, myths, and old wives’ tales. That is, until Taylor Sayers showed up.
Very little was known about Taylor Sayers, except that he was new to town. No one knew where he’d come from, or how he’d ended up in Clemente, of all places. All anyone knew was that we knew nothing about him, and it seems that’s the way he liked it. He kept to himself and didn’t bother choosing sides in the geeks vs. goths war that raged at Clemente Day School. But for those of us who couldn’t get enough of his startlingly blue eyes and jet black hair, there was only one place to be after school: track team practice.
I tried not to be obvious like those other girls, the ones who drooled over him and tried desperately to get his attention; cherry-colored lips and push-up bras were so juvenile. I took a vastly different approach. I simply ignored him.
Headphones in and oatmeal bar in hand, I ate my favorite afternoon snack and watched him brood. I reluctantly took a seat near Jessica Sparks, Eliza Teardown, and Tiara Knowles: the Fearsome Threesome, as they stupidly called themselves. I was the only one of us who didn’t have a boyfriend on the team. Therefore, I was branded a loser, a nobody, a less than nothing wannabe reject. The words I used to describe them weren’t nearly as nice.
Someone bumped me from behind, harder than I’m sure was necessary. My oatmeal bar flew out of my hand, landing two rows down the bleachers. I watched helplessly as chunks of yummy goodness settled on a splat of bird poop. Flies nearby were interested in a green lollipop that had been left behind. My mouth watered.
I turned to see who was behind the cruel gesture. Luanne Limey, former head cheerleader turned plus-sized teen model.
I removed my headphones. I could still hear the music blaring through the earbuds, but now it was partially drowned out by giggles and howls from the Fearsome Threesome and their lackey, Luanne.
“Real mature. Real freaking mature.” With a shake of my head and a hard shove of my music player into my bag, I huffed at the girls before removing and then throwing an open plastic bag their way. When the screams started, I turned to see Jessica covered in black spiders, making their way up and into her hair. The other girls screamed and squealed and cried as they watched their friend and self-professed leader writhe in pain from the spider bites. It wasn’t like any of them would ever apologize. So I did the only thing I could. Sometimes, getting even is a whole lot more satisfying than a half-hearted apology.
On my way down the bleachers, I caught a glimpse of Taylor, who was looking right at me. All I could do was run, away from Taylor and his accusatory stare and the damage I’d done. I ran to the only place I could think to go. I didn’t expect anyone to be there.
I sat under the cherry blossom tree on the far, east side of campus where I usually ate lunch. I didn’t mean to overhear. But sometimes, I see and hear too much. They were arguing. That much was clear. Her flame-red hair and onyx eyes worked together to vex him. I saw everything, despite being frozen by equal amounts horror and intrigue.
Kristen, my sister, had long suspected her boyfriend Evan of cheating. Three months ago Tiara Knowles, her best friend since the first grade and knower of all things romance-related, had advised her to wait until after prom to confront him. I know, because I’d overheard them talking about it. “You can’t possibly break up with Evan now,” Tiara had whined. “Prom is in eight weeks. Why give up the chance to be prom queen for that loser?”
“I know, but I just can’t do it. Everyone knows. Why was I so stupid? How could this happen… to
me
?” Kristen fell in a ball of sobs into Tiara’s waiting arms. At least, that’s how it had looked from the other side of the keyhole.
“It’s gonna be all right,” Tiara had soothed. “Lucky for you, you received all the good looks in your family. You can have anyone you want. All you have to do is spin your little web. Do you know how many guys would love to go out with you? If it wasn’t for your freak of a sister, you would have had ten dates for prom by now.”
“Paige can’t help… how she is.” Kristen had looked up at Tiara. “You really think this is her fault?”
“I know so. If you weren’t related to that pathetic little nothing, you would have won the head cheerleader position this year. No one likes a freak who dresses like she’s going to a funeral and is always playing with bugs. Gross! I’m itching just thinking about it.”
That was all I’d heard. I could have listened more, but there was no point. My sister blamed her horrible life on me.
Tiara Knowles. Who asked her, anyway? And why Kristen listened to a word she said was anyone’s guess. Evan had been Tiara’s boyfriend before Kristen sunk her teeth into him. Tiara was probably telling her all of that just so she could steal him back! And yet, watching them argue just a few short feet from my tree, my sister seemed genuinely hurt by what Evan had done. Her face was almost as red as her hair, and her eyes were dark and wet with the pain of betrayal. I felt bad for her. She didn’t deserve to be humiliated like that. Sure, she ignored me when others were around, and pretended I wasn’t her “real” sister whenever anyone asked, but still. She was all I had.
“You’re gonna pay for this, Evan Sugarback.” Kristen removed her hands from size-two hips. Evan’s eyes were wide in amusement. Kristen spun on her heel, then turned back to add, “I hope you and your little girlfriend choke on your stupid crowns!” With a flip of her hair, she disappeared into the afternoon haze, faster than any person had a right to depart. I don’t think he knew she had merely shrunk to her real size. I watched her scamper away on eight tiny legs and up into her favorite hiding spot—the old willow tree. It wasn’t like her to show her other side in public, but I supposed today she didn’t much care about the consequences. I started to run to her, to try to talk sense into her or offer comforting words, but a web grew up around me, pinning my feet to the ground.
Evan tensed his shoulders, then walked briskly away, as if something had spooked him.
“Please, I need to…”
My voice was lost in the intricate, constricting web. Looking up, I saw a spider dangling overhead.
“Let her go. She’ll calm down soon enough. Then she’ll see that a human boy will never be the right choice.”
“But Mother,” I protested. “Why should she have to suffer like that? She doesn’t embrace our lifestyle. She wants to be with humans.”
I settled back into the web, gave up resisting it. She cradled me in the soft, elastic silk of her making. I hated not being able to do anything for her. I couldn’t spin webs. All I could do was hunt insects, small birds, and tiny lizards. Useless.
“When she’s calm, she’ll see she’s made the right choice. As for you, a little birdy told me about your stunt this afternoon.”
“What?” I pushed at the web, but it hardly budged.
Mom lowered her spider body alongside me. It was kind of intimidating, watching her up close and knowing she could never take on a human form again. That she gave it all up for us girls, so that we could live as humans whenever we wanted. It was intimidating, and sad.
I wanted to cry, to scream and kick something, but caught in the comfort of her loving restriction, I only managed a single tear.
“Since when do you consort with birds?”
“Paige Muffet, I didn’t raise you to be selfish. And I certainly didn’t teach you to seek revenge on those who do you harm. I allow you to change easily from spider to human because I think it will keep you safe. If you decide to use your powers for evil, I may decide otherwise.”
“All of this is your fault!”
Kristen appeared in front of me, eyes angry, challenging. She grabbed at my neck with her hands, now human along with the rest of her five foot eight inch frame. I gasped, unable to do much else, as Mom slowly unwrapped me.
“Kristen, what’s the matter with you?” Mom asked, struggling to release me quickly as Kristen tightened her hold around my neck.
“What’s the matter with me?
You
are what’s the matter with me.”
“You can’t be serious, Kristen. You let that stuck-up, two-faced tramp, Tiara Knowles turn you against your own family!” I struggled to speak, but I was certain Kristen understood me. I think I made her even madder.
Mom scurried up to the top of a high branch.
“And your fault, too!” Kristen grabbed at Mom with her other hand. She must have been truly out of her mind. She could crush Mom.