The Evil Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil) Read online

  The palace loomed in the distance, an elaborate structure with ivory walls, golden pillars and bulbous peaks. Mom used to live there, had probably visited this very market and met some of these same people.

  Heartbeat, pang, heartbeat. Thoughts of her brought pain, despite the cage I’d built. To maintain my calm, I had to perform a total factory shutdown inside my mind.

  “Your Highness.” An older man with a thick white beard and bright blue skin approached us, leading a gorgeous pink unicorn.

  Enchantia—the Candy Land of Nightmares.

  The newcomer handed the reins to Roth, bowed low and darted off, there and gone.

  I did something I’d never done before: I hopped up and down and clapped. “I love her! What’s her name? Pepto? Fancy?” I petted her beautiful face. Her soft fur possessed a sweet woodsy scent I’d forever call “Horsey Heaven.” “Princess Rose Petal?”

  The prince gave me a strange look. “Her name is One Unicorn Rental, Return in One Hour.”

  “Oh.” How underwhelming. “I guess we’ll call her Ourrioh for short.”

  He laughed. “The unicorn’s name disappoints you?”

  “Well, yeah. This beautiful baby has got to be the champagne of unicorns, and you’re treating her like beer.”

  “I have no idea what that means.” He offered his hand and lifted me in front of him, his biceps flexing. “Your bill increases. You owe me a confusion tax.”

  I straddled our sweet Ourrioh and twisted to stick out my tongue, earning another laugh. The merriment came so easily now. Such a small thing, such a big difference.

  He gently nudged me into the proper position. With his chin resting on top of my head, and his arm around my waist, he eased the unicorn forward. “Tell me what you see when you study the village.”

  Honestly? “Chaos. Fear. Poverty. Cruelty.” Violet couldn’t be satisfied with this. She had to want better. I wanted better for her, and I was willing to work for it, to fight.

  “I’m not often astonished, but you’ve managed to get me there.” He tightened his hold. “I thought you’d focus on the revelry and excitement.”

  As we passed, everyone paused to bow. The few who dared to glance up projected a whole lotta fear—fear directed at me. Ugh. Well, why not? Back to business as usual. Did the prince wonder why everyone continued to regard me as a flesh-eating bacteria? And why wasn’t Roth frightened of me?

  Wait. Was that...? Ourrioh trotted closer, and I sucked in a breath. It was! Stumpy’s head swung on a pike, a warning to anyone who thought to strike at Prince Charmaine and his charges.

  A normal girl would have been disgusted, right? She wouldn’t like the one responsible a thousand times more. Well, screw normal. I liked Roth more and admired his show of strength, especially as apprehension got the best of me. Soon, we would reach the palace, and I would come face-to-face with my birth mother.

  I focused on my breathing...in, out...and the people, beings, around us. “Very few shoppers are wearing wrist cuffs.”

  “The magi dwindle. There are still witches, oracles and sorcerers—though the sorcerian are nearly extinct—but they cloak themselves with magic when they venture out. Many citizens kill the sorcerian on sight.” The last time he’d mentioned sorcerers, his voice had tightened. Now his voice oozed fury. “The witches and oracles simply refuse to work on off hours outside their shops.”

  My apprehension increased by leaps and bounds. I was glad I’d never mentioned Nicolas, my connection to him or my own tie to the sorcerian. “Why are sorcerian killed on sight?”

  “They syphon power and magic from others.”

  “Yes, I know that part. Mom told me. But what if a sorcerer isn’t syphoning? I’m certain they do not steal from everyone they meet.”

  “Sorcerers are always syphoning.”

  I wasn’t. Was I? “Where do the sorcerian live?”

  “The Enchantian Forest. They’ve been in hiding for years, without an overlord.”

  I went still. Roth had just given me an in. With a little finagling, I could ask personal questions without revealing any personal information. “Who is the overlord, and what happened to him?”

  “No one knows. But I hope he died screaming for mercy he never received.”

  Churning faster. “You have a history with him, then?”

  He stiffened and lapsed into silence. I debated the wisdom of pushing. One thing I knew: his animosity extended to all sorcerian, no matter who they were or what they were doing. He must not know Truly had ties to the sorcerian.

  Faster still. “What’s his name?”

  “Nicolas Soren.”

  Breath clanged in my lungs before seeping from my mouth. I needed to go home. I needed to go home now. I’d find my sister and take her from Nicolas.

  And possibly drain her?

  Hot tears gathered in my eyes, obscuring my vision. But the sting did not compare with the sting in my heart. Harts might be safer with the overlord than with me.

  Maybe I needed to refocus my mission objective, then. Instead of delving into Nicolas’s past, I would figure out how to keep Hartly—and others—safe from me.

  Roth steered Ourrioh along a bridge made of meteorites and crystals...through another sheet of shimmering mist...and for the second time that day, I entered a whole new world. A second courtyard, this one private and walled.

  Such grandeur! I couldn’t look away. On the ground, a mosaic of tiles created a red-carpet-type effect. Trees bloomed throughout, their limbs heavy with lemons, pears and plums, the scents blending into a sublime perfume. Purple orchids grew from the sand, their petals emitting golden embers of light.

  Armed guards lined the perimeter. When Roth came into view, the men bowed their heads in deference. They, too, exuded fear, but every bit of it was directed at the prince.

  That is real power. Guaranteed no one ever smacked Roth’s butt, or made lewd gestures or carried his screaming sister away.

  I felt myself dividing. One part of me hated their fear, as usual—no one should have to live that way—but the other part of me began to understand its value. Others feared him, but they also respected his strength. I was feared but never respected. That had to change.

  Roth dismounted and helped me do the same, a guard rushing over to take Ourrioh’s reins. Without a word, the prince led me forward through a huge open archway dripping with sharp-edged crystals.

  Head high. Shoulders back. Spine straight. I’m a princess; I must act like one.

  We reached a third courtyard, the floor of this one tiled with a beautiful tree of life mosaic, the walls overflowing with flowering vines. A towering set of double doors waited up ahead, with four guards standing at each side.

  Two of those guards leaped into action, shoving the doors open to ensure we never slowed our gait. As we passed, one said, “Welcome back, Your Majesty.”

  I was not acknowledged.

  In the foyer, I gawked all over again. My new default setting, I supposed. The wide, spacious room was comprised of gold, gold and more gold. A ceiling mural featured another tree of life. A diamond chandelier hung from the center, every gemstone shaped like an apple. A staircase rose from both sides, a marble waterfall between them, also shaped like a tree of life.

  “Take us to see the queen,” Roth said, using a stern tone that sent two men scurrying to obey.

  We passed a maid with small, delicate horns. Do not stare. Rude. She wore a serviceable brown dress with a midcalf hem, revealing legs covered in brown fur, and hooves instead of feet.

  Like the others, she never glanced my way. But she curtsied to Roth, saying, “May your star always shine.”

  Hearing the words Mom and Nicolas used to speak to each other, I tripped over my own feet. Grief seared and strangled me, the brick wall threatening to topple, but I hurried to refortify it.

  Little reminders o
f a past I’d loved were the best and the worst.

  Roth kept me upright, never missing a beat. “The Airarian greeting upsets you?” he asked quietly.

  “My mother used to speak those same words.”

  “Ah. I understand.” To distract me (most likely), he bumped my shoulder. “In Sevón we say ‘May you find gold.’”

  I latched on to the distraction, grateful. “And Fleur?”

  “May your roses forever bloom.”

  “Azul?”

  “May you always be wet.”

  Again, I tripped over my own feet. This time, he snickered.

  “Teasing, only teasing,” he said. “In Azul, they say ‘May the water wash you.’”

  We strode upstairs and down a hall, bypassing several closed doors. Armed guards stood at the final entrance, barring us with crisscrossed spears. I dubbed them Frick and Frack.

  “The girl is a stranger,” Frick said, motioning to my daggers. Then, a familiar leer overtook his features. “She can have no weapons here. Though I accept—”

  “She is with me,” Roth interjected, his tone hard enough to cut glass. “Stand aside.”

  Frack was too busy staring at my chest to respond.

  Though I hated parting with Mom’s daggers, even for a few minutes, I had a single objective: get to the queen. So, I handed the blades to the prince.

  Frick and Frack retracted their spears. As we passed Roth punched one, then the other, and they huffed for breath.

  “Respect her or pay the price,” he snapped.

  “Yeah,” I reiterated, fighting a grin. “Respect me or pay.”

  We entered a massive throne room, complete with marble columns and mirrored walls—don’t look! Flecks of different-colored light spilled through a domed ceiling made from the most beautiful stained-glass panels in history. Other shards of light flickered from a diamond chandelier and blazing sconces. On the floor, a dizzying array of tiles in the same starburst pattern as Mom’s ring. I twisted it absently.

  “Your prince?” Roth asked quietly, nodding at my hand.

  My cheeks heated. “Sorry, I’m too amazed to explain.”

  A crowd of people and mythological beings gathered before a dais, everyone dressed in formal attire. Women wore flimsy, floaty gowns made of beaded scarves, while men wore ankle-length jackets and billowy trousers that cinched at the ankles.

  In the center of the dais, a throne of clouds backlit by a Stargate-type portal showcased a close-up view of the stars.

  Where was Violet? I began to pant with nerves, inhaling a torrent of candle wax, jasmine and clashing perfumes. “Be honest. Do I look okay?” I whispered to Roth. I was extremely underdressed. What if I embarrassed the queen? “Should I leave, buy an appropriate dress and come back another day?”

  “You look...” Dark heat filled his eyes as he slid his gaze over me. “I would change nothing.”

  What the...? Feminine power went straight to my head, strange urges bombarding me. Step closer. Rub against him. Trace your hands up his muscular chest. Play with the ends of his hair. Run his bottom lip between your teeth.

  Resist! If the prophecy was accurate, he already had a soul mate teed up. A girl he would love wholeheartedly, who would love him back just as fiercely.

  Using that logic, I could safely remove Truly’s name from the list of candidates for Snow White.

  “What thoughts tumble through your mind, hmm?” Roth asked me.

  Before I had a chance to respond, or act on my silly impulses, the crowd noticed him. Instant silence. Lots of bowing. Roth didn’t seem to notice or care. Some people watched him with awe and admiration, others with resentment and fear.

  I received cursory glances, my usual sneers and leers, but also confusion. I knew what everyone wondered: Why is he with her?

  Ugh. I’d never before lacked confidence. If anything, I had an overabundance. Know your worth, and others will, too. But I couldn’t help but wonder, again, if Violet would hate me on sight, as so many others did.

  Did I really want to know if this particular cat was dead or alive?

  “Who dares to disturb our festivities?” A lone woman crossed the dais to ease atop the throne, all grace and dignity. She wore a pale pink corset overlaid with pearls, crystals and diamonds, material cut from both sides to spotlight a trim waist. Billowy pink scarves flowed from a belt of lace, creating a peekaboo skirt.

  This. This was Queen Violet. My mother.

  One second, just one, and my world remade itself. One second, and I fell deeply in love.

  While my mane of hair was as white as snow...snow white... hers possessed a yellow tint. My eyes—slate gray. Hers—navy blue. We were both tallish and slender, but she had more noticeable curves.

  To call her beautiful or exquisite would be the understatement of the century. This woman epitomized fairest of them all.

  Roth led me forward, the crowd parting, creating a path for us, and oh, crap, nervousness destroyed my joy with a sneaky uppercut. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to run. We stopped at the dais steps, my heart thundering.

  Rigid as steel, Queen Violet perused me up and down. “I know who you are.”

  Did she? No hint of giddiness came over her features. What did? Fear.

  But there was no need to panic. I could win her over. I could prove myself worthy of her trust. “I have information you need,” I announced. Among other things.

  “I will listen, but only when we are alone.” She turned her enigmatic gaze to Roth. “Go. You should be at my daughter’s side.”

  He is.

  He faced me, lifting my hand to his mouth and kissing my knuckles. His lips...so incredibly soft. Everywhere he touched, I tingled.

  “Ask me to stay,” he said for my ears only, “and I will.”

  I was tempted. Oh, was I tempted. But I didn’t know why he’d want to stay. We weren’t friends. He knew next to nothing about me and might stroke out when he learned he’d unwittingly aided the sorcerian stepdaughter of Nicolas Soren.

  Better to part sooner rather than later. “You should go. Your friends are waiting.”

  He searched my eyes before offering a clipped nod. Releasing my hand, he said, “What the lady doesn’t want, the lady doesn’t get.”

  I mourned the loss of contact. A too-strong reaction to a guy I’d just met.

  He made a big show of hanging my daggers from my belt loops, turned on his heel and strode away. Realization. Not once had he deigned to speak with Violet.

  Part of me wanted to chase after him, call him back, something! He was familiar in an unfamiliar world, and dang it, I missed him already. Why did I miss him? I shouldn’t.

  “Out,” Violet called. “All of you. Now!”

  Would she draw me into her arms as soon as we were alone? Maybe explain she’d had to keep me a secret from her kingdom because...reasons.

  No one moved fast enough for her liking. She waved her hand, and a violent wind swept through the room. People were knocked into each other and the walls, leaving specks of blood on the diamond studs. Curses and gasps arose, the throng racing to exit.

  The incredible display of power boggled my mind. Pride flared—that’s my mother!—right alongside envy. Want, gimme!

  Though I wasn’t hit by the initial air blast, I had to dig in my heels to withstand the residual blowback.

  When the doors closed, only five guards remained behind. The most trusted? Two stood on the dais, three moved below it. Those three edged closer to me while also blocking the only exits.

  Instinct suspected I’d been purposely boxed in.

  Calm. Steady. My mother would never harm me.

  “I do not want you here, girl,” she announced. “You are not welcome.”

  But...but...she didn’t understand, didn’t comprehend who I was, no matter what she’d claimed. So I would spell it
out for her. “I am your daughter. Princess Everly Morrow, twin to Princess Truly, raised by Princess Aubrey.” The brick wall held steady. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but she... Aubrey is dead.”

  The guards’ shocked inhales chafed me inside and out.

  “I have one daughter, only one,” Violet stated. “I want no other.”

  No. No! Giving me up had been utter agony. Aubrey had said so. Now Violet couldn’t tolerate the sight of me? No again. Her reaction made no sense, and I refused to accept it as final.

  Maybe she doubted my identity. Maybe she required proof. “I have Aubrey’s ring.” I lifted the chain from underneath my shirt.

  More fear flashed over her expression, then fury. Then guilt. Lastly...hatred? There was no excitement to welcome a long-lost daughter. No thrill to have her family complete. No happiness or hint of joy. No love.

  “My darling Truly is all that is good and right,” she said. “You are...not. I sense evil inside you.”

  Her words cut like swords. Like Mom, she had pegged me as the Evil Queen. Unlike Mom, she would rather deny my existence than admit our connection.

  Shame and helplessness beat through me. Because I could offer no evidence to the contrary.

  With my heart in my throat, I said, “Give me a chance. I can be good, too. I can grow on you.” Like a fungus. I laughed without humor. Begging now? Pathetic!

  “You should not have come here.” The fury had returned, seething in her voice, I knew beyond a doubt. There would be no changing her mind.

  Bile blistered my throat. I struggled to breathe. The wall around my heart just...shattered, dark emotion pouring out. All the pain. All the anguish. Only a raw wound remained.

  What made me so disposable that my own mother didn’t want me? What made me so unworthy? Never good enough.

  Tears gathered, but I blinked until they receded. Reveal a weakness? I’d rather die. “I—I’ll go,” I whispered.

  “You think to leave, to plot and scheme against me? Perhaps you hope to steal my crown.” Violet white-knuckled the arms of the throne. “That, I will never allow.”