Shadows on Snow: A Flipped Fairy Tale (Flipped Fairy Tales) (3 page)

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

She laughed a little. “It’s been ages since any of them have had a reason for a fancy dress. You think I could dissuade them?”

Slumping against the wall, I shut my eyes and tried to ignore the memories forcing themselves into my head. “There must be another way.”

Warmth caressed my cheek as the smoke curled past my face. “Time is short, and you may not get a better opportunity. I know the difficulty this presents for you, but if we’re to succeed…”

I grimaced. “I remember. We can’t allow our fate to be the fate of others if it’s within our means to stop it.”

“Can you do this?”

Could I? I didn’t know. Even the thought of wearing a dress again churned my stomach.

She rephrased her question. “Will you?”

After taking a deep breath, I relented despite my own discomfort. “I will.”

Her face vanished for a moment, but returned within a few heartbeats. “You’ll have a visitor. Go to the clearing tomorrow evening, and you’ll be met there.”

“A visitor? What visitor?”

“You’ll see,” she said, trailing off in a giggle as her face dispersed.

“Oh honestly,” I mumbled to myself as I put out the fire. “As though my life isn’t uncertain enough. I don’t need more surprises.”

“What’s the matter, girl,” he said, his breath hot in my ear as his hands strayed to my hips. “You’re no better than those others in there. You think you can thumb your nose at me?”

“Let me go,” I said, attempting to sound braver than I felt.

The snick of his knife as it cut through my bodice made my blood run cold with pure fear. The stench of ale surrounded me as his lips sloppily slid across my neck, and I gagged on rising bile.

“You want to keep your job, best shut your mouth, lass.”

I tried to scream, to tell him what he could do with his horrid job at that wretched tavern, but his grip on my throat silenced my protests. My arms flailed, bashing against him, and he spun me against the wall, knocking my head against the brick until stars danced in my vision.

And then, the sound of ripping, of fabric tearing away…

I awoke with a shout, immediately covering my mouth as tears spilled from my eyes. Choking on the memory of his smell, his sweat, his body invading mine, I shook uncontrollably as I struggled to remind myself that it was over, that he wasn’t here, that he couldn’t hurt me anymore. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, blotting out the image of him burned into my retinas.

A year gone, and still that night tormented me.

Turning over on my side, I took deep breaths, counting backwards from one hundred to turn my mind to other things.

At forty-five, Master Grey’s boot in my side blasted me from one nightmare into another.

“Get up, boy!” he hollered. “More guests are arriving and you haven’t the time to loaf about.”

“Yes, Master Grey, sir,” I said as I scrambled to my feet, coughing through the pain of the bruise forming on my ribs. If for no other reason in the world, I would finish my mission simply to see the brutal oaf sent packing. At least this was one man I could keep from hurting others.

He wasn’t wrong about the guests, as it were. No sooner had I fed the horses already stabled then more arrived to be cared for. Grumbling lords and ladies, put off by traveling the entire night, tossed their reins at me, and tired carriage drivers glared as they set off for the stables. My breakfast consisted of half a stale roll crammed into my mouth as I ran from one task to the next, and lunch was a wrinkled apple I stole from the kitchens on my way to answer a general summons for all castle staff. The meeting was really nothing more than a warning from the master of the house that anyone who slipped up would find themselves without a job, an utter waste of my time given the work I had yet to do.

The sudden influx of late-arriving guests essentially decided my dinner plans for me, and it was well after dark before I was able to sneak away into the woods.

My steps slowed as I approached the clearing, unsure of what I’d find waiting for me. The last time I was there, a bear surprised me with a bow and quiver of arrows, which I promptly hid in a hollow log not far from the stables. It came in handy more than once on nights I was either forgotten or denied food for some small infraction.

I kept behind a tree while I scanned the clearing. When nothing presented itself, I eased away, cautiously approaching the iced-over creek that cut through the center. Not so much as a dried leaf stirred.

“You are very late,” a familiar voice said behind me, causing me to jump.

Spinning around, I froze as her presence registered, and my mouth hung open. It had been years since I’d seen her, and I was not at all prepared for her fully unfolded wings, glimmering silver in the light of the waning moon. Her hair was as long and lustrous as I remembered it, each strand the same glittering gray as the veins of her wings. Only her dress was of a different shade, taking the blue of her power’s color.

“Godmother?” I finally managed through my awe. Typically, she was more reserved on her visits, choosing a more human appearance to set me at ease. To say I was unprepared to meet a fairy in full regalia was a ridiculous understatement.

She waved her hands about, the clearing instantly bathed in the pale blue glow of fairy orbs. “Stop gaping, child.” She chuckled. “As I understand it, you’re short on time this eve.”

Overcome at seeing a familiar, friendly face in the flesh, I flung my arms around her neck and embraced her tightly. “I have missed you, Godmother.”

She laughed, a sound more like music than speech, hugged me quickly, then eased me away. “I’ve missed you as well, my dearest one, but, if I might be frank, you’re rather in desperate need of a bath.”

I made a face. “I think I’ve grown numb to the smell, but I wouldn’t argue with you.”

My godmother produced her thin silver wand from the inside of her sleeve. “First things first, then.” With a small wave, the ice of the creek shattered, the water running freely once more.

I jumped away. “You’re not serious! I’ll catch my death if you—”

My protests were instantly interrupted by my own splutters and coughing as the slightly warmed water drenched me from head to toe. My clothes had disappeared, leaving me completely naked in the dead of winter. Teeth chattering already, I stared at her with wide eyes, silently begging for warmth of any kind.

“The glamour,” she said, hands on her hips. “Drop it.”

“But I—”

“No buts,” she said. “Drop the spell, or stand there and freeze. Your choice.”

It wasn’t really my choice, but nice of her to let me think so.

Taking as deep a breath as I could manage, I searched for the heart of the magic within me. For six months I’d worn that face, and it felt more familiar to me than the one I was born in. It took a while, but I finally located the memory buried inside my head.

The boy stumbled through the marketplace, struggling to keep up with his annoyed master. In his arms, he juggled two bottles of wine, a horse’s whip, three long loaves of bread, and four scrolls of parchment. His eyes were dull, but determined. The boy was a hard worker, but not all that bright. It was why I chose his face as my new one.

At the culmination of the memory, the spell slipped off of me as a snake sheds its skin. I gasped, sucking in the cold night air, my first as my true self in half a year.

“Oh, so much better,” my godmother said with a happy sigh, and a bubble of warmth surrounded us, instantly soothing the unbearable chill settling into my bones.

“You’ve grown up much since last we met,” she said as she circled me.

I closed my eyes and prepared to summon another memory for the mimicry of the evening. “Who shall I be tonight, Godmother? There was a lovely woman in the village a few weeks past that—”

Her wand struck me across my nose, and I winced.

“You’ll do no such thing, silly girl,” she said. “It’s a masked ball, and you’re far more beautiful than you think.”

My knees wobbled at the idea. “But I can’t go as my true self, Godmother. If the king sees me—”

“It’s been ten years, child. He wouldn’t know you now.”

Grimacing, I tried to come up with another argument, but the threat of her wand across my nose again stayed my tongue.

“Now then,” she said, rolling her shoulders. “What will it be tonight? The other ladies, did you see any of their gowns before you left?”

I considered it. “A few. Plenty of wintery colors there. Silvers and golds, of course, and light blue is very fashionable at the moment. None so bold as to wear red, but I imagine there will be come Yule, as it won’t be seen as an affront to the ruling house of Sericea to wear their colors then.”

She paused in her pacing and scrutinized every inch of my figure. She’d done so before, but I was considerably more well-endowed than last she saw me at thirteen years. Fairies give no consideration to humanity’s discomfort with nudity, however, and so I stood there for several minutes, naked as the day I was born while she assessed my appearance.

“Though a deep scarlet would suit your coloring well, I think perhaps you’re right about the potential for insult. As such, a nice emerald green will do nicely on you.” She closed her eyes and summoned her magic. Sky blue sprinkles of light rose from the ground and gathered in the air around her. Directing them all with graceful motions, they danced in time to the soft tune she hummed under her breath. Fairy magic was unlike anything else in the world. One could barely blink, let alone try to look away from the sight.

“The memory of summer… the warmth of life in the sun… the whisper of wind through leaves… stolen kisses from a lover…” Her words were little more than gentle breaths, but echoed from every corner of the clearing.

The gathered magic twirled in the air, then shifted, wrapping itself around me as a soft blanket. A stiff wind lifted my hair, spinning and weaving it as only fairy magic could. My skin prickled as it absorbed the remaining illumination.

“Open your eyes, child, and see the beauty you are.”

I frowned. “I do not wish for beauty, Godmother. I wish for strength.”

“Strength comes in many forms. Beauty is but one.”

“You’ve been speaking with Delphine, I see,” I said as I opened my eyes. Air stuck in my throat as I beheld myself in the conjured mirror before me. Indeed, I was as beautiful as she said. My plain brown hair was piled in astounding knots and waves, my cheeks flushed with a healthy glow, and my lips red as holly berries. Even my plain brown eyes were painted with swirls of green to match my dress, transforming them into something far more extraordinary.

It was all I could do not to cry.

I turned from the mirror, not able to bear another second of looking at myself that way. Even though I regularly wore a face not my own, that appearance, the horrifying embodiment of temptation, felt like a greater lie than any glamour I’d ever thought to put on. That reflection was not me.

Gentle fingers lifted my chin, forcing me to look into my godmother’s eyes. “Of all the things you could fear, you fear yourself the most. You must not. Others cannot take this from you. Your spirit shines through any spell you weave. Own that. Be proud of it. Your true face is more than how others see you, and those that know your heart will never be fooled by your magic.” She took me by the shoulders and turned me to the mirror once more. “There is power in beauty, but there is greater power in love. That is what you see before you. Never turn away from it.”

As I stared at the magnificent green gown hugging my waist, drifting up over the curves of my chest to curl in a pattern like summer ferns, I couldn’t see what she meant. That vision, the woman before me, was an invitation to men. It was a means to capture their attention and keep them fixated on the possibilities that lay beneath the fabric. It was not my heart they would seek out in clothes such as this.

Something heavy and cool slipped around my neck, and I lifted a hand to touch the green gem hanging on a short gold chain, enchanted by its soft glow. My godmother stopped me.

“You mustn’t touch,” she said. “Not until you need it.”

I turned to face her, confused. “Until I need it?”

She nodded. “This gem will grant you invisibility thrice over. The first you must use to enter the castle, so the guards will not question you. The second you will use to seek out the queen and determine what you can about her illness.”

“And the third?”

“The third,” she said, smiling, “is for if you find yourself in trouble. Be mindful, as each enchantment lasts only a quarter hour. After the third use, it will disappear, returned to who lent me it.”

“And who lent it?”

The corners of her eyes crinkled with her mischievous grin. “No one who will miss it if you’re swift.”

My godmother had a wicked sense of humor, and always had at least one or two of her brethren up in arms over a joke or “borrowed” item. It was probably better I not know and hope its owner didn’t come looking for it at the worst possible time.

“Now then, I believe that should…” She paused. “Hmm. I seem to be forgetting something.” She stepped back a few paces and studied me again. “Gown, slippers, necklace, hair… Ah! I remember.” With a flick of her wrist, the last piece of my ensemble appeared, and she set it in my hands. “Your mask.”

I looked down at the delicately crafted item and a pang of homesickness made me wince. “Adelaide made this.”

“She did,” my godmother said. “She worked from last night until sundown to get every detail exactly right. Seven leaves for seven sisters.” Her finger touched each oak leaf, three at each eye, one curved up the middle. “Every vein for a year of life.”

Steeling myself, I pushed back my tears. “Tell her thank you for me, and send them all my love.”

My godmother hugged me tightly. “As they send theirs.” She broke away and nodded. “It’s time now, dearest one. Your other things are with your weapons. Touch your clothing and all of this…” she motioned to my dress, “will disappear. Remember my words tonight and be swift, be safe.”

“Spirits willing,” I said, then turned to go, but paused to look at her one last time. “And thank you, Godmother, for everything.”