First Light (47 page)

Nadamaris closed the gap between us. She held her hand out, and the sword flew into it.
Use it against me,
I silently pled. I could see no other way.
This is our only chance.
And I wasn’t even certain it would work.

“Hold out your hand.” Nadamaris tried to control me with her eyes, but I resisted.

“Let me have Cristian’s sword,” I said. “If you’re such a powerful queen, if you know the outcome already—” my gaze slid to the crystal ball “—then you won’t be afraid to give me a chance.”

She shrieked with laughter at this but sent Cristian’s sword flying at me. I caught its hilt and held tight, grateful it wasn’t as heavy as the cursed blade.

“You never had a chance,” Nadamaris said. “It may have been foretold that you would defeat me by—
love.
” Disdain filled her voice. “And so you did. But I have the ultimate triumph. In the end, love only costs you.” Her hand went to her bald head. “In your case,
everything
.”

“You loved your father once,” I blurted, wanting her to think of him, to have that experience fresh in her mind.

“And he only ever cared for my sister,” she said bitterly.

“You could have loved Hale,” I said.

“Don’t bring up my idiot of a son. Although his incompetence allows me to be the one to personally kill you, so perhaps I ought to thank him.” She glared at me. “Now fight.”

I had no idea how to defend myself or attack her. I knew only that I must not let her sword touch my fingers.
But I’ll have to allow her to strike me elsewhere.
It was the only chance we had. Silently I prayed for courage as I curled my fingertips over the sword’s handle and dodged her blows.

We danced around the clearing a time or two. I was sport for her and could tell she was growing bored while my terror grew with each clang of metal. I was afraid of her sword. Afraid it had more power than I understood and its magic would not be able to be undone.

My eyes flickered upward for a brief second. Cristian was lowering himself from the tree, the thick, spun yarn of Merry Anne’s garment, supporting him, unraveling slowly as he made his descent.
If Nadamaris notices— if she strikes him.
In a split second I made my decision. Nadamaris had lunged, and instead of blocking her blow, I raised my arms high in the air. Her blade swished in front of me, connecting with my stomach as a sharp pain sliced through me. Cristian’s sword fell and I beside it. My hands went to my stomach and the warm blood already seeping through my shirt.

“Adrielle.” Cristian reached my side, hopeless terror etched in his features.

“
Love,
” Nadamaris scoffed. “See if it will save you now.” She lifted the sword as if to proclaim victory but shrieked instead. The blade clattered to the ground, and she continued screaming, as she stared at her hands, already shriveled and blackening. The evil from the sword was flowing back into her. It would kill her as it had Cristian.

My gamble had paid off
.
Partially, at least
.
I wasn’t sure about the rest.
But at least she will be dead. Cristian is safe.

I struggled for breath, each movement bringing agonizing pain. I couldn’t recall hurting this badly when I’d almost died before, but I didn’t tell Cristian. He held my bloodied hand, and I squeezed his reassuringly. “Take the blue vial from my pouch and give it to me.”

Cristian fumbled with the flaps of my satchel, spilling out a pile of twigs before he found the tiny blue vial. I reached for it. “Help me drink it. Quickly.”

He uncorked the top and raised my head so I might drink. Before the vial reached my lips, a bony hand swiped it from his grasp. Nadamaris’s flesh was all but gone. The black magic in the sword was working much faster and in a much more grotesque way than it had on Cristian.

Because
she
was the one who created it?
Did the black magic take longer to flow through blood that was pure or good, whereas it found quick transport in that which was already tainted with evil?

Cristian lunged at her, trying to retrieve the bottle, but she’d thrown its contents to the back of her throat before he could take it. “No!” His cry was filled with anguish.

Nadamaris’s shriek reached a new intensity, then abruptly stopped. She clutched at her throat and gasped for breath, but none came.

The poison was working.

As she’d fallen for her sister’s trickery so long ago, she’d fallen for mine. I struggled for my own life as hers left, disintegrating to a pile of ash in a matter of seconds. Cristian’s eyes were wide and terrified as he fell to his knees beside me and took my hand once more.

“The green bottle,” I managed to whisper. He found it quickly, but there was fear in his eyes as he held it out to me.

I tried to nod. “Pour it over my wound. And yours,” I added, noting the blood trickling down his neck.

His fingers trembled as he unscrewed the lid and held it over me. I closed my eyes, bracing for the pain to come, the agony Florence had warned of. The first drop fell, and I cried out as fire engulfed my insides, cleansing the wound, cauterizing it with the most potent and magical healing elixir. The bleeding began to slow, the skin reknitting together before our eyes. Cristian poured more of the precious liquid over me, and I cried out, begging him to stop. Instead, he splashed some upon his own neck. His jaw clenched, and his eyes watered as he endured the awful burning. I took his hand, and we clung to each other through our suffering.

When the last drop was spilt, we lay side by side in the clearing, staring up at the pale sky above. The moon appeared faint in the light of the rising sun.

The first light.
We sat up together, as if we’d both shared the same thought. Cristian stood first, then tenderly pulled me to my feet. I was tired, scratched, bruised, and dirty, but beyond that I was whole. Alive.

I touched the scar at his neck, knowing I’d have a wicked one across my belly as well.
No matter,
I thought, pushing aside any girlish vanity I might have felt.

“Symbols of our love,” Cristian informed me.

“Oh?” I arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you a mind reader now, too?”

“Maybe.” His devil-may-care smile was back.

Hand in hand we walked to the forest’s edge, to a hill overlooking the city and distant castle far below. On the other side of the main tower, the sun was just making its appearance, streaking the sky with orange-pink light.

“How about a test?” Cristian asked. I turned to him, and he enfolded me in his arms, then pressed his lips to mine in the most tender of kisses. I put my hands around him, tickling the hairs at the back of his neck. His kiss grew deeper. Lightning did not flash; the only thundering came from my heart.

Not a drop of rain fell.

But across Tallinyne, near the mountain, clouds were gathering as they should, forming the weather as it had been, as it would be now, bringing rain in the season as was to be expected. Nadamaris and her curse were no more.

I lay my head against Cristian’s shoulder and looked out at our kingdom, enjoying the first light on the first
day of the rest of our lives together.

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed Adrielle’s story and stepping into a world of mixed-up fairy tales and magical possibilities. If you’re wondering about Adrielle’s and Cristian’s wedding, you’re not alone. It’s coming! Keep reading for a preview of my next fairy tale romance,
Last Day
.

Michele

From the moment we are born, we are dying. This my father taught me.

We gasp, and tiny lungs expand, inhaling that first breath of air— air we need to live but that ultimately ages us. The heart, already beating for several months, pounds away at a frenetic pace, pumping blood throughout the body. Its rhythm feels dependable— invincible, even— but eventually it will grow old, tire, and cease to beat.

With time bones become brittle, baby-soft skin gives way to the work-worn skin of adulthood, with blemishes, then wrinkles. Hair thins and grays; bodies grow infirm. Death is the inevitable end to life. All this my father taught me. I wish, for me, it was still true.

“Cecilia!”

My chamber door flew open, and Adrielle stood there, mouth agape as she stared at me.

“You’re still abed? Are you ill?” She ran toward me, though it seemed almost as if she floated on air. Adrielle’s gifts had only increased in the ten months I’d known her. When moving she was both quick and graceful— a combination I never ceased to admire. She reached my bed and stretched out her hand as if to touch my forehead.

“I’m quite fine.”
Perfectly well, as always.
I mustered a smile and threw back the covers. “Just thinking of what a splendid day this will be.”

Relief spread across her face. “Oh, good. You had me worried.”

“Nothing shall spoil your perfect day.”
Not even sullen old me.

“I wasn’t thinking of
my
day.” Adrielle turned away and headed toward the wardrobe. “'Tis you I’ve hopes for. Have you forgotten that Hale is to be in attendance this afternoon?”

“Not at all.” Just hearing his name caused a tightening in my chest. It was this precise problem— Hale’s presence today— that held me still in my bed at this late hour. Seeing him once more was something I both eagerly awaited and dreaded.

“Do you want a morning frock? Or a day gown?” Adrielle had opened my wardrobe and stood staring at the dresses crammed inside. I knew her closet held only half as many gowns. Having grown up an impoverished farm girl, she had an appreciation, but no great desire, for fine things.
Oh, that I had been the same.
I pushed the thought aside. It was not my love for finery that got me into this mess.

No?
Some other, inner voice argued.
Well, it certainly didn’t help.

Perhaps not, but what am I to do about it now?

“The violet day dress, please.” I’d known for weeks exactly what I’d be wearing this morning, lest Hale arrived earlier than expected. The violet was my favorite. Once, when Cristian had believed he was courting me, and before he’d fallen in love with Adrielle, he had told me my eyes were the color of violets. I hadn’t thought much of his compliment at the time— as I didn’t have feelings for him— but I’d remembered it when I had the opportunity to be near Hale. Perhaps violet eyes were attractive to him as well.

I slid from the bed and walked behind the screen. Adrielle handed me the gown, then plopped herself into the chair by the fire, much as she’d done the first night she’d ever visited this chamber—
her
chamber, or that was what it was meant to be. Ten months earlier, after she and Cristian had broken the curse and saved the kingdom, Adrielle had insisted I continue living in Castle Canelia, and she’d refused to take the room that had been mine for nearly eighteen years.

After shedding my nightgown, I pulled a petticoat from a hook on the wall, then stepped into it. Servants were nearby to assist, and normally I availed them. But with Adrielle here, there was no need. Though she was the rightful princess of Canelia, and would, this very evening, be married to the Prince of Rincoln, she never objected to helping others, even if it meant doing a servant’s task.
Another consequence of growing up poor, of having grown up with my family.

One would have thought I was jealous of her from thoughts like this that popped into my mind almost daily. But it was not jealousy that ate at me, but regret. A deep, abiding regret that I had not appreciated the life I'd had and so willingly traded it away for the chance at riches, leisure… everlasting youth.

“Will you help me with my laces?” I turned to find Adrielle, having already anticipated my need, waiting just beyond the screen.

“Ridiculous things, corsets,” she muttered.

“Bet you’ll be wearing one this afternoon.” I couldn’t resist teasing her. Her wedding gown was the loveliest creation I’d ever seen— but it required a corset and petticoats beneath.

She grinned. “Well, only this once.”

“That’s what you think.” Adrielle’s presence in the castle the past months had wrought many changes, but Queen Ellen was not likely to end foreign visits, balls, and the like anytime soon. It seemed to me, anyway, that she still felt a need to make up for all those years when the castle had been closed off to the rest of the world.