Page 31 of Dreams and Dragon Wings (Clean Fairytales for Adults #2)
Aurelia
I race down a never-ending hallway of thorns, my breath rattling, my muscles burning, my wounded leg screaming. Sweat shimmers upon my skin. I have been running for hours.
But I know I cannot stop. If I stop, the monster chasing me will swallow me whole.
If I stop, I might never see him again .
“Bene!” I shout. “Bene, where are you?”
Wilted roses cling to the vines that compose this maze, filling the air with their rotting stink. But there are other roses, too—perfect roses like the sort Mama used to grow when we lived in the cottage.
Roses that drift toward me on an unseen breeze, their gentle passage so at odds with my own frantic flight. With them comes a voice—a voice that both steals my breath and soothes my soul.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so terribly sorry. For never telling you what you are. For never telling you who you are. Nor what you’re capable of…”
I shake my head and swallow against the rising lump in my throat. Drawing in a deep breath, I push myself to run faster. I must find him.
“It’s all right,” I call back, my lips trembling around the words. “I forgive you. Just, please, tell me where you are!”
The voice flits toward me again. Not to answer my plea, but to explain: “It was fear that kept me silent all these years. Fear and pride.” The voice laughs.
“And you would think I would have no fear left now. You would think I would finally have the courage to tell you the things I didn’t dare tell you even in the corridor.
What more do I possibly have to lose? But that’s not true at all. I still have everything to lose.”
My chest tightens when the voice whispers, “I still might lose you.”
The key scrapes in the lock, jolting me awake.
Disoriented, confused, I shove myself into a sitting position. A strange room glitters all around me. Where am I?
It all comes rushing back. Malice. Bene. Friedemar.
My heart flutters as I glance about, hunting for Velda. Malice cannot find her; he will surely take her from me if he does.
But I frown when I don’t see her. The fire still crackles merrily within the hearth. The lanterns still cast warm pools of light throughout this luxurious space. But there is no fairy godmother in sight.
Is she already hiding?
Or did I merely imagine she was here?
When the double doors swing open, I set my jaw and look that way, prepared to face my captor once more. Instead, I scream when two little monsters shamble into the room—one green and one brown.
Their backs are hunched. Their arms are long. Their ears are pointed. Their teeth are sharp. Their eyes bulge within their narrow faces as they stare at me like visitors to a menagerie observing one of the exhibits.
Between them, they carry a long wooden chest carved with floral designs like those upon the doors.
I skitter backward along the bed and press against the headboard, frantically trying to put as much distance between myself and these creatures as is possible.
“Greetings, Lady Aurelia,” the brown-skinned one croaks as the two of them draw to a pause at the end of the bed. They drop the chest with a heavy clang. “King Malice sends his regards along with this gift. He commands you to wear it at dinner tonight.”
Dinner? What time is it? What day is it?
Drowsiness still clings to my mind like a cobweb, tangled with memories of my strange dream. I do my best to sweep it away. I need my wits about me if I am going to save myself, let alone Bene.
I lift my chin, forcing confidence and authority into my voice as I say, “Do tell Lord Malice that while I appreciate his gift—and his invitation to dinner—I fear I cannot accept either.”
The green-skinned one smiles, flashing yellowed teeth sharpened to deadly points. “He thought you’d say that. Which is why he said you can either come and eat dinner with him, or you can come and eat dinner with us .”
Solemnly, the brown-skinned one adds, “In which case, you would be the meal, my lady.”
… What?
Some madness sweeps over me, driving me to my feet.
Still upon the bed, I stand with all my weight on my right leg rather than my left and tower over the little monsters as I shout at them, “Return to your master and give him this message: he will not have the pleasure of my company again until he starts treating me like his guest instead of his prisoner. I refuse to be caged like an animal. I refuse to endure these false threats.”
My glow returns and flares bright beneath my skin, thrumming in time with my words.
The monsters hiss and fall back, clawed hands flying to their faces as if my sudden luminescence hurts their eyes. The green one whimpers and ducks his face low.
But the brown one bows and mumbles, “Yes, Therya’fey. Your will be done.”
When the two hastily retreat and close the doors behind them, locking them once more, I can only stare in wonder.
What just happened?
When next I blink, Velda is before me, her eyes wide.
Relief floods through me to find she is truly here with me and not a figment of my imagination. I do not want to be in this strange place alone. I cannot save Bene alone.
“Bene was right,” the silver pixie whispers, sounding awed. “You truly are a prodigy with Mind. And Spirit, too, it seems.”
All the indignation that sparked to life within my heart when faced with Malice’s empty threats seeps out of me, leaving me shaking as I lower myself back to the bed. My throat burns with thirst. My stomach twists, hungry.
I can’t remember the last time I ate or drank.
“I’m not,” I protest, scrubbing the rest of the sleep from my eyes. “Contrary to my family name, I’ve never woven a single thing in my entire life. Neither magic nor fabric.”
A part of me longs to curl back up beneath the blankets and rest more. My body aches. The room is warm. The bed is soft.
Surely it would not hurt anything for me to close my eyes for another few hours?
Bene , I remind myself. I must find him before it’s too late. And I don’t even yet know how much time has passed since he was struck by Malice’s latest curse.
Suddenly, I regret not submitting to my captor’s demand that I join him for dinner. I could have used it as an excuse to wander the halls, to study the castle’s layout, to find Na’theryn .
When I look back at Velda, I find her studying me, her lips pursed.
“What were those creatures?” I ask, pulling her from her reverie.
She blinks and raises her eyebrows. “The creatures that reside here were elves and pixies once, but they succumbed to their Shades long ago. Now, we call them goblins.” Her nose wrinkles. “Malice fancies himself their king.”
I chew over that for but a moment before pointing out, “But that one called me Therya’fey .” Now that I understand the true meaning of the word feyra , it is easy enough to deduce the translation for that particular title.
Queen of Fae. Or perhaps Fae Queen.
Velda nods and flutters off, moving toward the carved chest the goblins left behind.
“Yes. You are the daughter of Liora, the last Therya’fey .
You are her only child. As my dear sister, Glorana, would say”—she pauses just long enough to heave the chest’s lid open, leaving me marveling at the fact that a person so small can move something so heavy—“technically speaking, that makes you the queen of these lands.”
Though I cannot see what is in the chest from my current position, whatever it is causes Velda’s face to crumple and tears to spring to her eyes. She sniffs and dives down into the chest’s interior, disappearing from sight.
“Wait,” I call after her, my brow furrowing. I lift my hand to my face and rub my fingers against my right temple in an attempt to ward off an encroaching headache.
So many scraps of information swirl within my thoughts, leaving me trying to sift through them all—what I can remember from my Drakaran history book, what Velda is telling me now, and what Bene showed me back in Spindleton when I opened my mind to him.
“These lands?” I repeat. “Are we not still in Drakara?”
“We are in the Flora Vale,” Velda calls back, “which is the northern reaches of Drakara. It is now known as the Shadow Lands, but…” Finally, she emerges, bringing with her the most beautiful gown I have ever seen.
The very sight of it steals my breath.
It is a marvel of lavender silk and plum gossamer overlaid with so many crystals and jewels that it looks like the twilight sky itself has been captured within the fabric.
A plunging neckline, open back, and a decided lack of sleeves are made modest with more jewels that drip from silver chains, clearly designed to mask the exposed skin that would otherwise lie beneath.
“Oh…” I whisper, shifting to the edge of the bed—careful of my injured leg—so that I can gather the dress onto my lap once Velda flies it over. Woven through the interior of the gown are threads of Earth, Air, and Fire. Their purpose is lost on me.
“This was your mother’s dress,” Velda softly explains, her voice cracking as she speaks.
“My… mother?” I stroke my fingers over the beaded silk. This gown must be older than I, and yet it looks new, with not a hint of wear or tear to be seen.
“Yes!” Velda’s enthusiasm grows as she flits back into the chest and emerges with a pair of shoes spun from mere crystals and Air and then a circlet forged from white gold and starlight—an illusion made possible with a weave of Fire and Mind. “And look! These are her shoes and circlet, too.”
A strange ache settles in my chest as I stare at all these wondrous things. Things from a time I cannot remember. Things that belonged to a woman I never knew.
I realize that I miss her, even though I have no memory by which to miss her.
“But…” Sudden suspicion cuts through my ache. “Where did Malice come by my mother’s things?”
Velda sighs, her mood immediately dimming.
“That is what I was telling you. This is your home.” She gestures toward the room all around us with its magical fireplace and utter lack of windows, leaving me staring at her while I try to process this latest news.
“This is where you were born, Aurelia. But back then, it was known by another name: Castle Illume.”
A sudden knock makes me jump. In the very next moment, Velda winks out of sight, disguising herself with a weave of Mind and Spirit.
Clearing my throat, I uncertainly call out, “Yes?”
The double doors creak open, and the brown-skinned goblin from before shuffles back in. “ Therya’fey ,” he rasps, his sharp teeth clicking together when he pronounces the word fey . “ Na’theryn would greatly appreciate if you would deign to join him for dinner.”
“Very well,” I whisper, fighting to mask the excitement within my voice. Finally, a chance to escape. “Tell him I will come.”