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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Grim

G rim watched in blank horror as Serena hit the floor, her body going limp.

The vines holding him hostage loosened, and his knees hit the ground, but his eyes stayed glued to the pink hair splayed on the floor.

He could not breathe; his chest was screaming in agony.

The queen looked at him once and then turned away dismissively.

“You’re free to go, as I swore,” she said, dismissively, focusing on the girl lying down on the ground in front of her.

With almost insulting gentleness, she picked Serena up as if she weighed nothing.

Closing her eyes, she chanted something under her breath and let go.

Serena stayed in the air, floating on the bed of white light, which bathed her in an ethereal glow.

She looked like she was sleeping peacefully, as if she had not just been poisoned by someone who looked exactly like her own mother.

Grim still could not move.

He had failed.

He had failed her, and he had failed himself.

Remembering the last words she had said to him, he got up on shaky legs and stumbled toward the two figures. He had no plan, no idea of what to do—all he knew was that he had to be near her, had to touch her, to assure himself that she was not—that she hadn’t—

He was almost upon them now, and the queen had noticed his presence. As he reached out his hand to Serena’s prone body, she hissed in outrage and then flicked a finger, sending him flying again. He got up again. Walked toward them.

This time thorns pierced his skin, rivulets of blood running down his body.

The pain mattered not; it was nothing compared to the agony in his heart right now.

He kept walking. It was apparent now that his stubbornness was angering the woman with the dead eyes and dead heart.

She summoned a ball of magic that rammed into his chest, and this time he cried out in pain.

But still, he kept walking.

“Stop it,” shrieked the queen, with a tinge of panic in her voice. “What is wrong with you? Are you not in pain? ”

Grim ignored her.

Screaming in rage, she threw a ball of fire. He barely dodged, and it singed his hair as it flew past. Next, came a barrage of small rocks that pelted at him with force, his blood now flowing in earnest. Still, he did not stop.

“Stay away from my daughter, you mongrel!” she screamed, wielding a blade of magic that she swung at him.

Catching it in his hand, he finally looked at her, the face that was the same as the woman who had once told him to stay near her daughter.

Whoever this imposter was, she would not stop him.

The magic was burning his palm, and blood gushed out, but he was impervious to the pain now.

He was so close to her. The queen flinched at whatever she saw in his eyes, and he did not break eye contact.

“I will never stay away from her. No matter where she is, no matter how far, I will always come for her. No attack you throw at me, no pain you inflict, none of it will keep me from the girl who has been my redemption, who is now my life. Without her, I am nothing.”

“You are a monster,” she whispered, staring at him, her previously flat green irises now slightly tinged with fear.

“Perhaps,” he said, baring his teeth slightly, “but I am her monster.”

He had decided, the day that Serena had broken his curse, that he would do anything for her, be anything for her.

His vow that day had been no lie nor exaggeration.

His quest for the wand now had nothing to do with the spirits, and everything to do with the rosy-haired girl he had sworn to protect.

Once, he had been terrified of being a monster. Now, for her sake, he welcomed it.

His sword shimmered into view once more, and he lunged at the woman, who sidestepped and responded in kind with her own blade.

Their swords clashed, his of steel, hers of magic, and he saw the hatred in her eyes for him.

But there was also love—the love for her daughter that had become twisted and angry, that had made her kill and maim, to harvest hearts for the sake of power.

“If you love her,” gritted out Grim, “then why hurt her?”

“She is not hurt!” raged the queen as they sprung apart and then forward again, their blades meeting in a deadly kiss, “I am the only one who is protecting her from getting hurt.”

“If you loved her, you would not do this.”

“Love?” sneered the queen. “You think what I feel for my daughter is something as paltry as love? You will never understand what a mother feels for her child, her daughter that is pure and beautiful and perfect. My snow-white angel. I will keep her like this forever, unsullied by the likes of you.”

“Surely, you understand this is madness?” Grim dodged another fireball.

“There is no madness! There is only power—power that I have harvested to keep my daughter safe. So what if I use it? This is what it was all for.”

She turned and stretched her hand toward the passageway opening, and a second later, the large mirror from Serena’s room floated down. The queen placed her hand on it, and whispered something he could not catch.

A minute later, a woman wavered into focus in the mirror.

She was identical to the powerful queen in front of him, except that she looked younger and more tired.

Her clothes were regal but not as opulent as what she now wore, and her pale blonde hair lay in a simple plait down her back.

She wore a sad faraway expression, and her hand lay on her slightly rounded belly .

“Behold, the woman who was too weak to save her husband. Who would do anything to save her unborn child.”

The woman disappeared, but the queen still looked at the mirror with an unsettling look on her face, almost adoring.

“The mirror helped me; the mirror told me what I must do. I needed hearts to give me power, to save my beloved daughter. I did as it asked, and then I placed it in her room so I would be able to keep an eye on her, and I created a passageway so I could always access her room if needed. That is how I found that prince—he had sneaked into her room for a kiss . Foolish man! And now”—she turned to look at him, her hand still glued to the mirror, as violet waves of magic seeped from it, up her arm, making her glow eerily—“it will help me take care of you.”

Understanding settled in, but a minute too late, as she swung the arm bathed in the purple light toward him. The magic hit him, and he gasped and bent over, every nerve of his body on fire.

“You could never defeat me,” she said conversationally, all traces of her earlier panic gone. “I am too powerful for the likes of you.”

He ignored her; he was on the ground now, looking up at the slumbering girl.

She looked beautiful, so beautiful, like a maiden in a fairytale.

Drinking in the sight of her like a starved man, he yearned to hold her one last time.

With that in mind, he began to drag himself forward, the rubble on the floor deepening his already weeping wounds.

The queen watched, no emotion on her face, as he pathetically attempted to crawl toward her.

“You could have left,” she said.

“I told you,” he gasped out, “not…leaving…”

Her eyes tightened, but she made no more move to stop him.

Reaching Serena, he stood and rested his forehead on hers, murmuring apologies in a broken voice. Footsteps sounded, and he realized the queen stood beside him, strangely still not stopping him.

“You truly care about her.” It sounded like a question.

“More than life itself,” he answered, and then, “Please don’t do this to her. I know you love her, so let her go.”

It was the wrong thing to say, and as he watched, her aura darkened, and her voice became chilly.

“Leave now, boy. There is nothing for you here. Out of respect for my daughter’s wish, I shall not kill you if you leave, but there is a limit to my mercy.”

“Then I suppose you will have to kill me after all.”

“So be it.”

“Grim!” came a voice behind him. “The mirror! Smash it, and you’ll break her power.”

The fox had finally decided to reappear.

With herculean effort, Grim threw his sword toward the large, gilded mirror, knocking it backward, the sword embedded in it.

Cracks emerged from where the sword protruded, and it clattered to the floor, smashing into pieces.

The queen shrieked, and so did the mirror.

Their voices merged, creating an eerie howl that rose to a crescendo and then disappeared.

A curious smoking black liquid seeped out of the mirror and formed a tar-like layer on the floor.

The glowing light around Serena disappeared, and he caught her just in time.

Cradling her in his arms carefully, he edged away from the queen but could go no farther than the nearest wall.

“What did you do?” whispered the queen. She was on the floor now, trying to pick up the pieces of the mirror, her hands trying to put it back together in a frenzy, unaware of the cuts blooming on her fingers and palms .

Grim looked at her dispassionately, slumped against the wall, Serena still not moving in his arms. The queen looked like a broken woman now, no trace of her formal regal bearing.

Letting out a keening wail, she looked around wildly, trying to figure out what to do.

Ignoring her, he focused his gaze on the girl in his arms, but the spell on her had not broken with the mirror.

She remained motionless and pale, and his heart cracked further. He kissed her forehead with gentleness.

“You have undone me, my Serena,” he whispered. “You had faith in me, and I let you down. I am sorry. I am so sorry.”