With a Kiss (Twisted Tales) (31 page)

They had left me here to die. I only had until the stroke of midnight. If being torn away from Babs didn’t kill me, the hunger and cold would. I lost everyone I loved. My family was gone, and to make it worse, now I actually cared. Babs was destined to become a minion to that evil hag, and Hobs had betrayed me. I wasn’t sure how long I lay there in the snow, but it wasn’t enough to numb the pain.

The sun lowered over the trees, attempting to put an end to this awful day and to my awful stay in the Sidhe. Death was the only way out. My body shook uncontrollably. I wasn’t sure if it was because Babs was gone or if it was growing colder, but in a matter of minutes, I watched dumbly as the ice climbed up the trees. The air crackled under the pressure. The frost spread into my hair, weighing down my head. My tears froze onto my cheeks. How many hours until midnight?

A cold and gentle hand touched the back of my head. I listened to the voice. It was caring. “I cannot take this away from you, but I can make you forget.”

Forget? That this had ever happened? I looked up to see a beautiful faery—like the ones I was used to seeing in faerytales, not the ones I had seen here. She knelt by my side, her lavender skirts spread prettily over the frozen ground. Her wings fluttered, making a musical sound. “Did my mother send you?” I asked her.

She smiled a little sadly and stroked my frozen hair. “None of this was supposed to happen. The curse was too much. The human child wasn’t the one who was special—you are. I can make you forget all about her. You won’t have to hurt anymore.” Her glowing fingers toyed with the tiara on my head. “It would be so easy.”

To forget Babs? I remembered the curse.
My
curse. When I loved, the love of mortals would fade from view. Was it because I would cause Babs so much pain? How long until she hated me? Maybe she already did. “Who are you?” I asked.

“A friend.” She pulled out a juicy red apple, and I gaped at the familiar threat. This was no friend—did she think I was stupid? Snow White, Eve, and now me—we all had the same temptation. Why had they given in? Did they want to go home? Surrender? Maybe they were just hungry. I felt my stomach growl.

Even though Hobs said I didn’t have to eat here, old habits were hard to break. The little faery folded my hand over the apple. Even to my numb fingers, it was frozen to the touch. My tiara buzzed a reminder through my head.
Don’t eat the food.
“A gift,” she said. “Take it to forget.”

“Can’t,” I mumbled into the ground. “I can’t eat the food.”

“No, no, of course not, not here. Take it home where no pain can touch you. Then you can eat it. It will make you forget everything. Look how red and juicy.” The faery had the power of a siren and I stared at the apple in my hand. The tiara reminded me of the rules again:
Don’t eat the food. Don’t eat . . .

I wished more than anything that I could just rip the hated thing off my head. I was a rule breaker anyway, right? When we broke the rules, we faced the consequences. I could forget Babs. I could forget Hobs and his plans to use me. I could forget that I was just some misfit who didn’t belong in the Otherworld, make it seem like this never happened. The wolves howled in the distance.

The faery’s head lifted and her wings rubbed together, sounding like bells. “They are coming.” She studied me with worry and I shook my head. How could I forget Babs? She needed me. “You must leave,” she said with a gentle bite to her lip, “before they catch you.”

“How?”

“You’re on a faery ring. Transport yourself back home.”

For the first time I became aware of where I was. The dark circle beneath me had singed through the snow. My head ached and I squeezed my eyes shut, not able to think clearly. I had to stop the pain, but I wasn’t sure how. Hobs would know, but I couldn’t trust him, even if I could get to him. I gritted my teeth. “It didn’t work before.”

Her hand pressed down on my head. “You didn’t have a faery who would grant you any wish you desire.”

My eyes flicked open. A wish. Hobs had warned me about wishes. Why did this little faery want me to leave so badly? And why should I care? I just wanted to go home. I was in so much pain. “I wish . . .” I whispered. “I wish . . . I wish . . .” I wished that I could save Babs. I wished that Hobs were here, and that he could help me, but I had to face reality. We weren’t on the same side. I felt another tear rush down my cheek and I sobbed into the ground. He had lied to me. Why would he help me now?

The faery pushed the swirly toy in my hand and I stared into the face of it, seeing the ones from the Otherworld I had left behind: my father, my mother, Daphne, the twins. “You’ll be in your warm bed in the arms of your loving family. They will be yours again.”

Yes, but they didn’t love me—not really—now that I loved them. It was the curse. Everything I loved would be torn from me. I saw them with different eyes. The twins were a little older. My mother happily fixed matching bows in their hair. It was snowing outside the kitchen window. My dad walked to the fridge, teasing everyone until my mom threw a ribbon at him. Daphne and someone else with a similar—though sweeter—voice than mine giggled off to the side. My family was better off with the shadow of me.

The hag had played it brilliantly. She could’ve placed me in a horrid home, but instead I was the bad one. I never could hope to compare to my stolen family in beauty and grace and affection. If I couldn’t love such a sweet group, I could never be expected to love anyone else—except the hag hadn’t counted on Babs. She had broken the curse. And now that I knew how much my family meant to me, it was too late. They weren’t mine. The hopelessness spread deep inside my chest. The faery’s cold hands crept around my arm and I gasped out. They were freezing, and I knew exactly who held me. The hag. She was in disguise, though I still recognized the arms that dragged me from my home as a baby.

Who am I?

Everything in the faerytales had yet to happen. That meant they could be happening now. I wracked my brain for some clue as to where I fit. Cinderella? There were no stolen shoes, no slavery, not yet. What else? There was an evil queen, and I had dark hair, though my singing voice could never rival a bird’s—unless it was a crow—and besides that, Snow White was already taken by the evil Snow Queen. I had to try harder. What was my name?

There was an evil witch, yes, and possible imprisonment. Rapunzel was dead. Sleeping Beauty? The thought of getting trapped in a tree wasn’t appealing at all. Would that be my fate? I had always slept in—my curse had put me in a dreamlike state so that I could find the Sidhe. Did that mean I had to be awakened with a kiss? I covered my face with my hands. Every curse was broken with a kiss. I thought of Hobs and banished him from my mind just as quickly. Here a kiss brought life
or
death. Was I ready for that kind of commitment?

The cold from the hag’s fingers seeped into my shoulders. The wolves whined in the distance. “Hurry, they’re coming.” She tried to force me into making a decision. How could I possibly be that big of a threat to her? It was like she couldn’t hurt me. I wondered if it was my mother’s blessing that kept me safe.

The faery chanted over my head, and it turned into a song. The tiara buzzed its warning through me.
When you hear the music, run!
I couldn’t this time, so whether I liked it or not, I was the rule breaker. Now there would be consequences. So what if I
wanted
those consequences? I would do anything to save Babs!

I shifted on the ground when I got the idea, and I followed Hobs’ example. “Thank you,” I whispered into the snow. The hag winced in pain. “Thank you for the song! Thank you for the advice! Thank you for the apple!”
Never thank a faery!
My fingers tightened over the apple and she stiffened. “Will this faery ring take me anywhere?”

“It will take you home.
Just say it:
home
.”
Her tongue slithered nervously over her red lips. I took a deep breath. Of course.
Rumpelstiltskin.
She was trying to exchange me for the four treasures. That’s why she wasn’t through with me yet. I could just imagine the cloaked and bandaged Otherworldly rubbing his greedy hands together, waiting for me on the other side as soon as I used the faery transporter. What would he do to me?

There was only one way out of this and I needed Hobs. I whispered his name into the cold snow and the tiara on my head went crazy.
Never call a faery by their name. It’s annoying and they have to go wherever you call.
Or worse, it’ll make you go to them.
Poake-ledden!
I jumped at his shout of pain, and remembered
Hobs had run his knee into my dresser when he gave me that order. The tiara repeated exactly what he had said—even down to the faery swear word.

I smiled sadly. Could I even invoke Hobs after his mother banished him from here? Well, I was lying on a transporter. If he couldn’t come to me, I could go to him. That’s what he was telling me, wasn’t it? He had even recorded it for me.

“Hobs?” I said, but not too loudly, so his mother wouldn’t overhear. Nothing happened. Anyway, that wasn’t his real name. Hobany?
Love’s true kiss . . . Hobs.
That’s why they took him
.
Was he my true love? My Prince Charming? My heart beat heavily at the prospect.
Never fall in love with a faery. Never!
Well, it was too late. I swallowed. It was too late. That’s why it hurt so much to find out that he betrayed me. That he never wanted me at all—just my crown.

“Hobany.” I kept it down, so the hag couldn’t hear, but again nothing happened, and I squinted through the pain. The name to get to him wouldn’t be Hobany. Everyone here knew
that
name; it would have to be a code so secret that no one could guess it. I tried to think of all the names he had supplied me with. There were too many. The only one I could think of was Puck, and that name was even more infamous than Hobs. He hated that name. I asked him if it was a swear word, and he had laughed. More tears slipped down my cheeks. I would never see him again. “Oh, Hobs.” My tiara choked out another reminder.
“Never call a faery by their name. It’s annoying and they have to go wherever you call. Or worse, it’ll make you go to them.
Poake-ledden!”

My head lifted. No! Did he really? He did! The faery swear word. It sounded like Puck. He had given me his name. “Poake-ledden!”
I breathed. The moment it left my lips, I felt myself drift away from my cold spot on the ground.

The faery looked absolutely smug as everything but the apple disappeared in front of me. Poor thing thought I was going home and into the arms of our Otherworldly friend, but she couldn’t be more wrong. I clenched the apple in my hand, heading for somewhere worse.

Chapter Twenty

Speaks the soft voice of Love! “Turn, Psyche, turn!
“And see at last, released from every fear,
“Thy spouse, thy faithful knight, thy lover here!”
From his celestial brow the helmet fell,
In joy’s full glow, unveiled his charms appear,
Beaming delight and love unspeakable,
 While in one rapturous glance their mingling souls they tell.

—Mary Tighe
, Psyche; or, The Legend of Love

I
found myself standing on the ledge of a stone tower, staring down at the ground far below. It was a long drop to a thick bed of thorn bushes. The tower cast a long shadow over the cliffs that stretched out over a snow-spackled city of twinkling lights, the ice castle at its center. In the distance, the witch was throwing a party. I could hear wisps of faery music carrying through the wind and echoing up to us and the full moon above. The sound of it howled through the tower, no longer cheery, but haunting. It was a celebration in honor of my defeat.

“What are you going to do with that apple?”

I jerked around, watching the slow smile spread across Hobs’ face. He sat on the cobblestone floor, looking only slightly surprised to see me. Besides being locked in a tower, he wasn’t the worse for wear. He was barefoot in worn-out jeans and his black punk-looking shirt. His hair was messier than usual. “You have any magic beans?” he asked. “They always come in handy when you need something to climb down. Other than that, we’re out of luck. The tower’s indestructible. Some pigs made it.”

I was torn between hugging and slapping him. Of course, he would joke at a time like this. It didn’t look good for us. Without the faery ring, there was no way to get down. Thorns curled ominously beneath the window. I didn’t see stairs or a door or anything we could use for a ladder. And to add to this impossible obstacle course, an ogre marched below the tower with self-important steps.