With a Kiss (Twisted Tales) (39 page)

“Hobs,” I said. “Help me out of here. I think I’m losing my mind, my memories. These aren’t my parents!”

“Yes, they are,” he said through clenched teeth. “I hate to break it to you.”

“You know who I am. This isn’t it. Please, if it comes down to it, you have to remember for me. Please.”

He had no idea what I was talking about. Of course not. The ice that made up the window pane was nearly gone. Outside, the flowers we had tromped on only yesterday were vibrant next to the deep forests. They sang happy songs about springtime. It was beautiful . . . and incomplete. Babs, Bridgette, Halley—whatever her name was—wasn’t here. And my shadow was a double-crossing sneak. I shoved the faerytales into Hobs’ hands. “Show me how to get to the Otherworld. I’m going after Babs.”

His careful gaze was on my parents. “Watch what you say. You might get your wish.” Their voices rose and he grunted out his displeasure. “And maybe that’s okay. You
are
her
faery godmother after all.” His hand trailed up my elbow and he looked regretful. “I’m surprised you didn’t get that from the Merrow. I’m surprised you didn’t get a lot of things from the Merrow.” He grinned ruefully.

“Well, you stopped them from talking,” I said.

“I told them I would make you my wife. I think they were jealous.”

“Horrified,” I corrected. “I’m still in high school.”

“College . . . in a few days.”

“Only when you fast-forward things.”

“Done. You saw it for yourself. You and I have a future together.”

I desperately hoped so. “Hobs, you’ve got to listen to me. I’m forgetting things, normal things I should know, like my parents’ faces—not these ones! And, and I saw some things when . . .” His steady eyes were on mine, and I stuttered. “When you kissed me. Things in the future might be a little rough. We were being chased by something.”

“It might have to do with
Rumpelstiltskin
.” Hobs looked tense. “I was afraid that maybe . . . look, none of this has ended yet. You know that right?”

It hadn’t? But what was with that whole battle with the Snow Queen? And learning my name and earning my crown? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what else was out there. Keeping an eye on my parents, Hobs cracked open the faerytales and found another story. I groaned when I looked over his arm. Hobs was right. This wasn’t the ending. The tale of
Rumpelstiltskin
hadn’t changed a bit, even if the Snow Queen had died.

It didn’t make sense. Who would try to trade me to the Otherworldly for the four treasures? I turned over what was familiar in my mind. As I recalled, there was a king involved. Hadn’t the king locked his bride-to-be in that chamber full of straw? To win his love, the queen made their child the poor victim to Rumpelstiltskin’s designs. Hobs turned to look at my arguing parents. You’d think they’d be happy I had found true love—if that’s what this was. But they only acted like it got in the way . . . of something else.

Hobs’ expression darkened. “You don’t think they’d—” His eyes narrowed into dark slits. “Oh, I get it.” As he said it, I realized the terrible truth too. Unbelievable! No wonder the books of faerytales were forbidden here.
My parents
were going to give me away, and they wanted to keep it secret. Why else did they tear me from my loving parents in the Otherworld? They didn’t care about me at all.

“You realize,” Hobs said, “it’s only a matter of time before they kick me out.”

Hobs would get in the way of their plans. My father wasn’t particularly attached to me. My mother appeared too weak to help me. And soon I wouldn’t know my name from Rumpelstiltskin’s—as long as my mother kept stealing my memories. Hobs was the only thing standing between me and this Otherworldly.

His eyes didn’t leave mine, like he was afraid I’d crumple at the news. “Don’t take it personally. They probably think they have no choice but to give into his demands—a deal they made before you were born. They’re just too stupid to see it’s a trap.”

“Their sacrifice could save the Sidhe.” I felt the sob catch in my throat, and realized I
was
hurt. “How else will we defeat the Otherworldly?”

“They won’t be using you.”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. “There are courts here,” I said. “The judges who put Ratis on trial—couldn’t we go to them for help?”

“The Twelve are worse than they are. There are only a few things they care about, and it’s not us.” Hobs fumbled with the swirly toy and shoved it into my hands. “Give it to me. Make a gift of it.”

“Okay.” I felt stupid, but when I gave the toy back to him, he smiled in relief. “I give this swirly toy to you,” I said.

“It’s called a fey stone, but don’t worry. The incantation will still work. Anything you want me to see or hear, I will now. Every reflection will bring you back to me.” Hobs steadied himself. “Meet me tonight? At the change of stars?”

I really needed to learn the culture around here. “When’s that?”

“Before midnight. Roughly. Come to me before they try to crown you. I’ll have something to show you by then. It changes everything.”

I looked outside the castle windows, trying to be inconspicuous about it. The courtyard was now a flooded meadow of tiny waterfalls. “Where? In some puddle?”

“What used to be the Mirror of Reason. It was where we had first seen the hag building up her vast armies. “You heard your dad. They’re crowning you with the help of the last treasure. The Stone of Fal. It’s under the ice, hidden from the Otherworldly. I think that’s why my mom froze our world over: in her own way, she was keeping us safe. Not that she cared, not after what
they
did to her. She was out for revenge.”

By now, my mother’s back was to us while she gave my father the silent treatment. He tried to placate her by wrapping his arms around her. “My love, I am not trying to take over, but this is the only way. We must act now.”

Hobs turned from them, exchanging looks with me. “Don’t let them force you to stand on the stone. It cries out under the rightful sovereign, but my mother told me something before you came back to me . . . before she died. If she’s right, the stone
will
kill you.”

The world was melting too fast, and taking my memories of Babs with it. And now my life was in danger? I nodded, feeling my own eyes watering over.

Hobs reached out to brush my cheek with our combined knuckles, trying to comfort me. “Everything will be fine.”

“How can you be sure?”

“One kiss is all it takes to know.” He gave me that mischievous look I loved so much. “Want to find out?”

I smiled.
Well . . . yeah.
I liked him more than I should, but I couldn’t take more bad news. He saw my hesitation. “You don’t still have that ice stuck in your heart?”

“I wish.”

“Uh, that’s a joke, right?”

Despite everything, I laughed.

My father swiveled from my mother to glare fiercely down at us. “The faery queen and I thank you for your service to the Crown, my boy.”

Hobs looked pained at the gratitude, and just a little cross.

“I’m sure you have far better places to spread your mischief. Perhaps other girls to visit?” My father sniggered cruelly at me, having inserted that solely for my benefit.

Hobs’ mouth tilted upward in perfect Puck fashion. He gave me a meaningful expression over my hand as he bent to kiss it. It was meant to encourage me, and it did the trick. I trusted him more than anyone here. “Remember this.” He used the same words he used to ingrain the faery rules into my mind, keeping his voice lowered from my new parents. “We will meet again. At the change of the stars. You mustn’t forget.”

His lips touched the bare skin at my wrist and I felt something strange flow through me. Faery kisses always had mischief in them. Now that Bugul had his voice box, I’d ask him what this one meant.

“Do you feel that?” Hobs asked. The warmth in his eyes filled me. “We belong together.”

My father growled low under his breath, but because he didn’t do anything, I figured he didn’t have the power. Hobs was a prince—of course, if my father had anything to do with it, this prince wouldn’t be mine.

Hobs didn’t look away from me. “Even if the prophecies were against us,” he said in a voice now meant for everyone else, “I’d fight them too. Nothing will separate us.” He let go of my hand, releasing each finger slowly until he held me only with his gaze. He straightened, his mother’s talisman swinging against his chest. “You’re not a prisoner here.”

The remaining bite of my apple lay abandoned just a few feet from us. Hobs abruptly left me and crushed it under his foot with unnecessary force. No, I wasn’t a prisoner. I didn’t eat it all. Water dripped from the slushy ceilings onto Hobs’ face, dripping down his hair and down his tan neck. His world had collapsed because of me, and yet he still wanted me. I wanted to be with him too. I believed in him more than I had ever believed in anyone. His loyalty was to me, not to this faery king.

He bowed low, first to my father and then to my elegant mother. “Your Majesties, until we meet at midnight.” Under my father’s disgusted look, Hobs scraped the remaining bits of the apple off the thick soles of his oxfords. He did it slowly against the cobblestones with just the exact trace of mockery. It was enough to make the king fume. “Take care of my princess,” Hobs said. “Or your reign will not be a long one.”

I winced at that, but instead of ordering his head off, my father treated him to a stubborn nod. My mother managed a stressed-out smile.

After a backwards glance at me and a devilish wink, Hobs left the castle with his usual swagger. It was his trademark, after all. He had Babs’ swirly toy in his hand. It dangled through his long fingers.

I couldn’t wait to collect it from him.

Now to ’scape the serpent’s tongue,

We will make amends ere long,

Else the puck a liar call.

So, good night unto you all.

Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.

 —
Puck,
Midsummer Night’s Dream

THE END

We hope you have enjoyed the first novel of the Twisted Tales Series,
With a Kiss.
For your convenience, we have included a sample of the sequel to this novel,
At Midnight,
a young adult paranormal novel that is the second book in the
Twisted Tales series
also by Stephanie Fowers, beginning on the next page.

After that, a
Glossary of Faery Terms
, a
List of Creatures
, and a map are also available.

A list of all books by Stephanie Fowers can be found in the “About the Author” section after the sample chapter.

At Midnight

by Stephanie Fowers

Chapter One

Laughed every goblin
When they spied her peeping:
Came towards her hobbling,
Flying, running, leaping,
Puffing and blowing,
Chuckling, clapping, crowing,
Clucking and gobbling,
Mopping and mowing

—
Christina Rossetti,
Goblin Market

 “D
o you want fries and a drink with that?” I asked.

The lady tapped her long nails against the counter at FasFoo—the tacky name of our little fast food restaurant on Main Street; it didn’t bring in the most polite of customers. She heaved a long, exasperated sigh. “Did I
ask
for fries and a drink?”

“No.”

She gave me a pointed look.

That must mean she was through ordering. I handed her the receipt. “One double slab beef burger coming up.”

Behind me, Wayne prepared two meat patties. This was his first day on the job. We were seniors at Omak High, and the only thing we had in common was that we were both the losers there. He couldn’t figure out how to connect with anyone socially, and from the moment I stepped over the school’s sacred threshold, everyone hated me—even Wayne.

He averted his face from mine and threw two meat patties on the burner. They sizzled, adding to the grease in the room. I fiddled with my hat. It was shaped like a hamburger and refused to stay on my head.

An old man stood next in line. His white hair was pulled back in a hippy ponytail. He had a long, hooked nose and paper-white skin that stuck to his bones like peeling wallpaper. By the looks of his scowl, he was a crotchety one. “I want the usual!” Great. He was already shouting.