Authors: Kate Avery Ellison
Will leaned towards me.
“Just try to look like you don’t hate me, okay?” He murmured in my ear.
I straightened my scowl into something resembling a smile. Then I got my first real look around, and my mouth fell open.
The room we were standing in looked more like a cathedral than anything else. Soaring ceilings were offset with sparkling stained glass windows that let in streams of sunlight. A lush red carpet stretched forward like a road beneath our feet. Mirrors lined the walls, and as I watched several people stepped through one, dusted themselves off, and started walking away. Nobody had the trouble I’d had.
“Why is the sun shining? It’s night time.”
“We’re in the Fey Lands,” Will said. “They’re on a different time schedule.”
“Oh.”
“This way.” He tugged at my arm, leading me forward. I craned my neck to stare up at the painted ceiling as we walked. Something fluttered at the top—I saw a flash of wings and scales.
“Baby dragon,” Will said, following my gaze. “It must have gotten in here somehow. Don’t worry—they don’t produce fire until they mature.”
“What is this place?”
“These are the Fey Lands. But they’re not actually a specific land, mind you. Just a sort of a hub for passengers passing from one land to the next.” His forehead wrinkled as he thought for a moment. “Dimension might be a word that makes more sense to you.”
We turned a corner and entered another room, this one even larger than the first. Tents and huts spread everywhere, like a tiny shantytown.
“The faery market,” Will said. “They don’t charge money here.”
“No?” I stared at the rows of mysterious bottles for sale, the stacks of glittering silks.
An old woman with no teeth gave me a wide smile. “Want to buy a love potion, honey?”
Will steered me past. “Her price might be your soul,” he said, and his breath tickled my ear. I shivered—whether from the brush of his breath or from the idea of selling my soul, I didn’t know.
We pushed through the crowds and wove around tents of wares. People of every size and description swarmed around us, some peering into our faces as they passed, some purposely not looking at anyone. I saw beautiful women with porcelain-smooth skin and black, opaque eyes that looked more dead than alive, short men with thick red beards tucked into their belts, slender girls with leaves in their hair wearing dresses of ivy and flowers. Men with pointed ears and long, feathery hair strode through the marketplace without looking at anyone. “Elves,” Will murmured to me. “They’re very dangerous. Don’t make eye contact.”
I hastily looked away, and spotted a group of young girls with tangled hair and olive skin that turned into scales at their wrists. Their fingers were talons. “Harpies,” Will told me in a low voice. “I told you this place could be dangerous. There aren’t many laws or law keepers. Don’t cause any trouble with anyone. Don’t let anyone trick you.”
“Does every possible magical creature hang out here?” I shivered as I accidentally made eye contact with a green-eyed, gray-skinned creature that might have been a goblin. Or a troll.
“It’s a gathering place for anything and anyone connected with the Fey, yes. Many people disappear here. Many come to be lost, too.” His hand tightened on my arm as we passed a tall man dressed in a navy blue coat and a top hat. The man was kissing a woman’s neck—at least I thought so until he lifted his head and I saw the trickle of blood that ran down his chin. The woman’s eyes cracked open, and she gazed at us without seeing us. Will moved his arm to my waist, and tugged me past at a faster pace.
I didn’t even mind the extra contact, because my heart was thumping hard in my chest, and sweat had spread across my palms. I let him pull me away.
“Nearly every creature here is dangerous to you. Even the ones that look nice. Faeries are the worst. They look harmless, but they’re vicious monsters. They steal humans away to use as slaves, or they suck out your life through trickery to make themselves look younger. Don’t ever let a faery touch you unless you’ve made a specific bargain with him, otherwise he’ll steal from you. The bargain binds him, and he’ll hold to a promise, but you have to make them promise.”
I nodded.
“Another thing,” Will added, leaning close and speaking softly into my ear. “Don’t eat or drink anything here, ever. You’ll forget time completely and stay here a hundred years if you aren’t careful. Humans like you are particularly vulnerable.”
I nodded again, trying not to stare at a waifish girl in a red cloak who was arguing with a giant wolf-man. A curl of fear twisted in my stomach. Maybe this had been a mistake.
“William,” a voice called out behind us. “William!”
We both stopped, and Will’s arm tensed against me. We turned together to see a tall, dark-haired man with skin the color of burned wood and pointed ears weaving towards us in the crowd. Will relaxed, but only slightly. He kept his arm around my waist.
“Who’s your lady friend?” The man asked, reaching us. His brilliant green eyes raked me up and down. His mouth cracked in a speculative smile.
“I’m Beauty,” I said. I wasn’t sure why I used my full name, except that it sounded much more formal than Bee. I was too frightened to be chatty. He exuded the energy of a thunderstorm.
“His Curse Girl?” He raised both eyebrows, and his smile stretched wider. Will sighed and didn’t say anything.
“Storm,” the man said, as if just thinking of the need to introduce himself. He bowed. “At your service, for a fee.”
“He’s a night elf,” Will whispered. “A rogue one. He isn’t as dangerous as some of the others, but don’t trust him.”
I examined Storm’s face for any signs of bloodlust or capricious malice. But he only looked cocky, and maybe a little vain. His long black hair hung down his back in a mixture of curls and braids. The hat on his head sat at a crooked angle. He wore a necklace of dark stones, wrapped in string.
Storm pantomimed clutching his heart. “William, you wound me. You’ll give me a bad reputation.”
“You already have a bad reputation.”
“Not with Beauty. Clean slate.” He turned to me, licking his lips. “Don’t believe anything he tells you about me. I’m very nice. Especially to ladies.”
“Hmmm,” I said. I didn’t really like being referred to as a ‘lady,’ not when it was said with a leer like that.
“Skip to the point,” Will said.
Storm flashed us both a bright smile, unperturbed by Will’s belligerence. “I suppose you’re looking for Marian?”
I was surprised, but then maybe I shouldn’t be. Storm looked like the type who knew everyone’s business. He waited until Will sighed, reached out one hand, and touched the elf’s fingertips. Then he dazzled us with another smile. “She’s in the flower ballroom.” With a tip of his hat, he pivoted on his heel and vanished into the crowd.
“That was interesting,” I said. What had Will done? Had he given him something?
“You shouldn’t have told him your name,” Will said. He let go of my waist and offered his arm again. “Names have power.”
“I thought that was only faeries and things,” I said.
“You never know how long you’re going to stay human in a place like this.”
That comment chilled me all the way to my core.
Will started walking faster, and I hurried to keep up. My heart was thudding again at the thought of Marian. Even Will was comforting compared to her.
We passed into another hall and turned right, stopping before the third doorway. Above it swung a painted sign, covered with live flowers that sprouted straight from the wood by some kind of enchantment, probably. No words.
The flower ballroom.
“Not everyone here can read,” Will said, nodding at the sign. “Shall we go in?” At first his voice sounded as harsh as it usually did, but then he looked at my face and his expression softened just a tad. “It’s going to be okay. She won’t, you know, eat you.” Perhaps he’d seen my expression when we’d encountered the vampire earlier.
“Okay,” I said, suddenly not wanting to at all and not like the mental image he’d just given me. My legs shook a little as I followed him.
We were about to meet the witch herself. My stomach tied itself in knots. I dragged in a shuddering breath.
I needed to be strong, even though I felt like running. Or fainting.
The ballroom wasn’t very crowded. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, covered in vines. Butterflies and birds swooped everywhere, and the scent of flowers filled the air. It would have been breathtakingly beautiful, if not for an underlying current of danger that filled the air. Maybe it was just my imagination, or did every eye in the room immediately turn to us?
I felt her before I saw her. Her presence was like a strong perfume, overpowering and dizzying. I stood there, feeling her magic swirl around me like smoke, and then a tall woman with a swath of ink-black hair laced with silver turned to us, pinning us with her gaze.
“Marian,” Will breathed.
Her skin looked too thin, like paper, and I could see all her veins, as if someone had cut her open and replaced her blood with a strange black liquid. Her eyes were black pools in the white mask of her face, and her clothing hung on her body limply, like a sheet caught on a tree in the middle of a rainstorm. The only color visible came from her lips. They glowed a deep, rose red.
“William,” she purred. “How nice to see you. And who’s this? Could you have found your Curse Girl at last, perhaps?” Her eyes dropped to me, making me shiver.
Everyone here seemed to know what a Curse Girl was, like it was a normal thing they talked about all the time. Then again, given the fact that evil witches were running around, maybe it was a normal thing. I didn’t know.
“Marian,” he said, inclining his head. His eyes were bright and hard, and I spotted a faint red flush spreading across his neck. “How
not
good to see you. This is Beauty.”
Was I supposed to say hello? She gave me a hungry smile, and I just stood there.
“Oh, that’s adorable,” Marian said. Her voice was low and rich, like chocolate. “Her name is Beauty. How … tidy. I didn’t mean that with the curse, but maybe it will work. These things tend to surprise even me, you know.”
“Sure,” Will said, careless and angry at the same time. “Listen, we came because Beauty here thinks you’re a decent human being, and she thinks if she asks you, you’ll tell us how to break the curse.”
Marian’s eyes widened in surprise, and then she laughed like we’d just suggested she give us a million dollars.
I would have expected her laugh to sound awful, like a mule’s dying gurgle, but instead it bubbled up warm and infectious, the sort of laugh that made everyone else smile in spite of themselves. It was an echo of her former self, I supposed. And then I just felt sad.
She’d been ruined by her magic. She was crazy.
“Tell you? First of all, that’s hardly fair, my dear. The crow that is eaten doesn’t cry foul to the hawk, you know.”
I bristled. “Hey, cursing the wrong person is hardly fair either,” I said. My voice came out wobbly with nervousness.
Marian paused, giving me a stare. Her face softened. “Your eyes, my dear, look like the surface of a lake when it’s covered in mist. Your mouth is like a little slash of silk…” She dropped her face in her hands and began sobbing quietly. “He was so handsome, you know, wearing his ruined honor like a sword. He asked me why, you see. His voice trembled like a teacup in its saucer when he said my name …”
I looked at Will. He was scowling. What was she rambling about?
Marian’s shoulders stilled. She raised her head with a snap, and she wobbled as if she’d just emerged from a dream. “My dear,” she continued, answering my question as if she hadn’t just gone off on a crazy ramble. “There is no ‘fair’ when it comes to curses. Do you know what happened after I cursed my dead husband and trapped his younger brother instead?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Ah. Well, Beauty, I was with child. And when it was born, it looked just like Robert, that lying snake, and I—” First her face crumpled like an old tissue, but then her expression smoothed out, and her eyes turned cold. “And I killed it. I couldn’t have something that looked like that running around, could I?”
Her mood swings were giving me whiplash, and now this. I wanted to throw up. My arm started shaking against Will’s. “You killed your own baby?”
“It looked just like him.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you understand?”
I felt sick. She was clearly psychotic, that was what I understood.
“You’re not going to tell me how to break the curse, right?”
“Darling, you’re brilliant.” She blew me a kiss, and it came out like a puff of smoke and hovered in the air between us. “Will doesn’t deserve you. Then again, he doesn’t deserve anything but a dark hall and a cold chain around his—”
“Marian,” Will snapped.
I snuck another glance at Will, and he was grinding his teeth.
“You’re so handsome when you’re angry, my dear,” the witch cooed.
So she harbored an irrational hatred for anyone connected to her dead husband. How awesome was that. And I’d stumbled straight into the middle of this lovely family, and now my fate was wrapped up in theirs, and theirs was under the heel of a vengeful, crazy witch. A vein pounded behind my left ear, and my vision was starting to blur. I was so angry I wanted to slug her in the face.
“Beauty,” Will said in my ear. “Calm down.”
“You’re a horrible person,” I told her. My voice cracked.
Marian regarded me calmly, her black eyes impossible to read. “Curses don’t hurt only the ones they are bestowed upon.”
What did that mean? I stared into her face hard, trying to understand her expression, trying to make sense of her dizzying behavior.
“Beauty,” Will repeated. He tugged at my arm, and I let him pull me back.
“The curse was for Robert,” Marian shouted, at the last second before we stepped out the door. Her eyes opened wide, and she panted as if she’d just run a lap around the room. It was as if she had multiple personalities, each one surfacing for a few moments and then tumbling back into the dark recesses of her mind. This one seemed almost friendly. “The lines are personal references between the two of us. We used to write letters, you know. I loved him, you know.” She put a hand over her lips.