“I, Count Dominique De St Croix, Lord of the De St Croix Chateau and all the lands it watches over and advisor to the King, ‘ereby declare that this court of witnesses is summoned to ‘ear the claim of the she-elf/demon dragon Jé Kinah and the Snow Queen Meredith ‘aving joined in a single form. Standing as a witness is Prince Evander, also known as Sir Janus.
I call upon the dwarf Marjellan and ‘is wife, Snow White, to bear witness for the lands they represent. Do you agree?”
“We do Count.”
“I call upon Sir Philip, knight of the ‘ouse of De St Croix, husband of Princess Freya, absent, also known as the Sleeping Beauty, ‘o come from the North, to bear witness for the lands ‘e and ‘is wife represent. Do you agree?”
“I speak for my wife and myself when I say we agree Count.”
“I call upon former King Frederik and daughter of King Triton, Xanthe, to bear witness for the lands they represent. Do you agree?”
“Yes Count, we agree.”
“I call upon Abigail and Krista, werewolf warriors, daughters of the late Commander of their kind and original Red Riding ‘ood, Maja, to bear witness for the people they represent. Do you agree?”
“We do.”
“I call upon Jack, giant slayer and beanstalk climber, to bear witness for ‘imself, ‘is people and you ‘ave also been charged in bearing witness for the giants by the new leader of the clan, ‘alley. Do you agree?”
“She did? I am? I…I mean…ah…yes…I agree…really?”
“I call upon Prince Niccolo, son of King Vittorio and Queen Michela, third in line to the throne and I call upon your wife, Maria, a new kind of Cinderella, to bear witness for the people they represent. Do you agree?”
“We agree Count.”
“Finally I call upon Shankara, General of the Samrajni Scheherazade’s army, charged with knowing ‘er mind and acting upon ‘er orders, to bear witness for the lands you represent. Do you agree?”
“I humbly agree to act in accordance with the Samrajni’s wishes and to see her will be done.”
Count De St Croix breathed out a little, his golden brown hair resting on his shoulders, his dark red velvet coat looking a little crushed and his silk shirt, a little rumpled. The scar on his face was red and angry against his skin, a reminder of the war and the toll it had taken upon him and his house. Nevertheless he held himself with great authority as he looked around the table of witnesses. “The claim will be ‘eard by those present and if it is proven to be true, these two persons will become witnesses in the trial against the Snow Queen.”
“If...” Krista muttered, her elder sister elbowing her.
“Jé Kinah...”
“Actually it’s just Jé now.” Evander made a necessary interruption. He caught sight of Jé’s appreciative expression and nodded.
“Jé?” De St Croix cleared his throat. “Very well. Jé, also known as the she-elf, as the dragon and, if we are to believe the reports, Meredith, also known as the Snow Queen will you offer up your testimony for us and submit to our verdict and judgment?”
“Then court is now in session.” Dominique indicated to the chair at the end of the table. “Sit Jé and tell us ‘ow it is that you claim to be both elf and ‘uman, Queen and dragon, villain and saint.”
Evander sat down on the closest chair to Jé, palms clammy with anxiety. He couldn’t stand before her and protect her now. She was on her own and looked so vulnerable with all their eyes on her dark curling mane, her pale green eyes, her fine features and her rose hued lips.
“Many years ago…” she began quietly, “…there was a man and there was an elf woman and against the odds of this world…they fell in love. To their fold was added a child of which the earth had never seen before. Not wholly human and not wholly elf she fought an internal war between the two halves of her nature. Her one stronghold was the love her parents had for each other as it proved that all differences could be overcome. But falling in love is one thing. Staying in love is quite another and one day her heart was broken when her trust in her family was torn apart. Her mother died from grief and the child did not nurture forgiveness. She only sought revenge,” Jé’s mouth grew firm, “and what you seek, you shall find.”
A shiver went round the room despite the hot blaze of the fire at her hollow tone.
“A demon which delighted in taking dragon form, preyed on her angry, vulnerable heart. It offered her revenge, power and an end to her loneliness. She…I…agreed.” Jé licked her lips and felt her chin quiver but she refused to cry. “I said yes, not truly knowing what it would mean but not caring at the cost if only it would satiate my thirst for revenge.
And then it said it could do so much more…if it removed the humanity from my body, leaving me to be pure elf. Again I agreed.” She swallowed and looked up. “After the pain and the heat and the fire there was Meredith, a full blood human and there was Jé Kinah, a pure blood elf.”
De St Croix held up his hand. “Let us take a moment to ask questions.”
“You are saying the demon found you?” Philip asked. “Out of all the hurting people in the world, it seems strange that it singled you out. Do you know why?”
“I have wondered that myself.” Jé admitted. “It seemed strange to me that such a foul beast would be lurking around the oldest tree of the forest, a symbol of the elves and their purity. But then that is precisely why it was there.”
“Please explain.” De St Croix asked.
“The extent of corruption it inflicted upon the person who becomes its host determines the level of its power.” Jé explained slowly, trying to say it so that they would understand. When she looked up and saw their expressions, mostly open and interested in what she had to say she gained a little courage. “It is no great secret that humans are flawed but elves are pure. It hoped it would encounter a heartbroken elf in want of vengeance whose eternal life and pure soul would nurture its foulness to the end of time. Instead it happened upon me.”
“And it split you into two people?” Marjellan asked. “How is that possible?”
“I cannot tell you for I do not know.” Jé admitted.
“Den your tale has no validity.” Abigail said firmly. “How can you not know what was supposedly done to you?”
“I do not know how I came to have two legs out of one tail.” Xanthe said and drew all eyes to her. “But I do know it happened.”
Krista snorted and De St Croix held up his hand. “We are not to judge until the end. If there are no more questions, please continue Jé.”
Jé paused and, when the air fell silent, she frowned. “From there I am a little confused. I have memories of Jé Kinah, infused with the demonic power, going away and living in a ruined castle, luring princes and knights to her with the hope of rescuing a princess but killing them instead.” She glanced briefly at Philip whose eyes flickered at the strange look. She hastily looked away but knew she had already confessed to killing his brother with the brief exchange. “I know Meredith travelled to the far east, seeking a power equal to Jé Kinah’s which she gained from a jinni in a lamp. Meredith attempted to lure, capture or convince Jé Kinah to join her war but Jé Kinah’s heart had been softened by love and refused. So their internal war became outward and stretched across your lands like a plague, ending when Jé Kinah took away Meredith’s power and then was severed from the dragon by a silver arrow to her heart. It was then that they both entered prisons. Meredith was confined in this very chateau and Jé Kinah went to a prison that her own mind created out of the guilt she bore for her actions.”
Evander’s cheeks burned, still feeling the guilt and sorrow from loosing that arrow.
“It was a hellish, mindless, endless place and Jé Kinah would be there still if not for Evander and Meredith’s combined efforts.”
“You mean letting Prince Evander/Sir Janus betray us all and causing himself and the Snow Queen to become fugitives?” Niccolo pointed out. “That is what you are trying to tell us? That somehow those wrongs make you right?”
Jé looked around at the eyes on her, all of them doubting or questioning the validity of her story. It was all too difficult for them to understand.
“Yes. That is what we are telling you.” Evander said, standing up. “My younger self is at this very moment torn between his duty to you all and his love for Jé Kinah. He wanted to see justice done but it is possible that, in condemning the Snow Queen, you would also condemn Jé Kinah.”
“We should lock Evander in his chambers.” Niccolo muttered.
“If ‘e cannot open the cell, she cannot be freed.” De St Croix replied firmly.
“And you would not have slipped him the key in some way?” Niccolo challenged.
“Niccolo…” Maria said gently.
“We all know the Count has the audacity to act upon his own council.” Niccolo looked around. “Perhaps it has served you and us well in the past but this decision, to release or condemn the Snow Witch, does not belong to you and you alone. It belongs to all of us who are witnesses here today. I need to know if the Count can be trusted.”
“I want to see dis key.” Abigail spoke up. “I want to know dat she cannot escape.”
De St Croix slipped his hand into his pocket and Jé tensed, wondering if the Count would be found out to be helping them.
The iron key clattered onto the table.
“Dat is de cell key?” Krista demanded.
“I ask for Sir Philip to say if it is or is not. ‘e is the knight in my ‘ousehold and knows all matters regarding the security and safety of those within the chateau.”
Sir Philip picked it up and examined it. “It is indeed the correct key. All the cells can be opened with one key and this is it.”
“And there are no duplicates?”
“There is no need.” Philip replied. “For two generations now the De St Croix family have not been required to lock anyone up.”
“Und can we believe you?” Abigail asked. “After all you work for dis house und you are loyal to de count.”
“There is no finer man than Sir Philip,” Frederik spoke up, “and I would have words with anyone who said otherwise.” With his arms in slings it could have been an empty threat but there was something sharp and unrelenting in his eyes, an authority that had come after having lost everything in his youth and then rising from the ashes to prove that nobility did not run in ones veins, but in one’s heart.
With that Abigail was silenced. De St Croix took the key and slipped it into his pocket. While everyone’s eyes were on the Count, Jé spared Evander a confused glance. He winked at her then relaxed his face. She trusted that he knew what he was doing.
“So, Jé Kinah and Meredith are two separate beings.” De St Croix summarized. “‘ow is it you came to be one again?”
“Prince Evander rescued Jé Kinah from her prison,” Jé couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of the place, “and Meredith was waiting, frozen in sleep so that she could stay until we emerged.” Jé could see Evander cringing, waiting for her to narrate his guilt ridden kiss in order to wake Meredith up. But she could not embarrass him so and simply skipped over it. “But when we entered the prison was not the same time as when we left.”
“What do you mean?” Xanthe asked.
“It was over two hundred years into the future.”
The room fell silent.
“Dat is not possible.” Abigail shook her dreadlocks.
“My wife and I both slept for over one hundred years.” Sir Philip replied. “When we woke, it was as though we had simply gone to bed one evening and woken up the next day. When we found out the years that had passed…”
“And the changes that had occurred,” Jé shook her head, “or that will occur. It still confuses me. We were rescued by four very young adults on a ‘gap year’ who brought us to the chateau De St Croix.”
The Count sat up, his worries pushed back from his mind for a brief second. “This chateau?”
“Yes.” Evander nodded. “It had changed but we recognised it.”
De St Croix became grim. “What ‘appened to the chateau?”
Jé looked at Evander who nodded. “What we learned is that Giselle died from her infection and in your sorrow…you set the chateau on fire.”
Dominique’s face blanched. Jé hated telling him this when it was clear he had already born so much pressure. What with recent developments it could be enough to break even his strong resolve.
“Sir Philip…” De St Croix stood up.
“I will make the necessary arrangements immediately.” Philip said, understanding his Count’s request.
“You’re concerned about a fire that is ‘supposed’ to happen?” Niccolo asked, incredulous as to their panic.
“Are there or are there not two Evanders?” De St Croix demanded and Niccolo had no response.
“So far only yourself, Sir Philip und Niccolo have seen dese two Evanders.” Abigail argued. “If we were allowed to see dem together…”
“No!” Jé exclaimed while Evander said.
“My younger self cannot be allowed to know what is happening.”
“Why not?”
“Because I was told that it never ends well,” Evander looked at Jé, “and I trust the one who told me that.”
“Then might I suggest a brief recess so that we can do what needs to be done?” De St Croix offered.
“Ya.” Abigail said, standing up. “I am going to order my warriors to patrol de land around de chateau just in case your ‘younger’ self tries to escape with de witch.” She walked out with Krista following quickly.
“How did you escape?” Niccolo asked.
Jé opened her mouth but Evander spoke up first. “No one was expecting us to run away…so we just walked out the front gate.”
“Then I will double the guards there.” He said grimly and followed the werewolf warriors out.
“I will order some food and drink to be brought,” De St Croix said and looked around, “and then I will check on my wife.”
“Allow me Count.” Xanthe stood up. “Giselle needs you and I can order food easily enough.”
“Jack!” Sir Philip barked and the young man, who looked completely bewildered at the events which were happening around him, sat up right in alarm. “I could use your help.”
“Yes sir.” Jack nodded and chased out after Philip.
“I am going to stretch my legs.” Marjellan said, standing up. No one was game to remark that he was as tall standing as he was sitting on the high chair. He scraped his axe up into his hand and heaved it over his shoulder. When Evander gave him a strange look he shrugged. “You never know…”
Evander looked at Jé who looked down at her fingers, counting…
“Please forgive Niccolo.” Maria said, coming over to them. With the room almost completely emptied, only Snow White, Shankara, Frederik and Maria left in there with them, the tension in the atmosphere had lessened a great deal. “He…his father is dying…which has put a great deal of strain on his reluctant shoulders.”
“Sick,” Jé looked at Evander, “perhaps those tablets from the future…”
She stopped when Maria put her hand on her arm. “I do not think that they can cure old age…even in the future.”
“I see.”
“I am surprised that Niccolo was the one chosen to come,” Evander remarked, “I remember his eldest brother would have been more than willing.”
Maria’s face saddened. “Then you are not aware of the demise of the royal family.” She breathed out. “Antonio…he was never particularly cautious, almost believing himself to be immortal. One day his antics saw him killed in a mindless tragedy. And Davide, who would have been second to the throne, plans to abdicate…”
Jé’s fingers covered her mouth. “Oh Maria…you never wanted to be queen and look what a state I pushed you into now.”
Maria looked at Jé in surprise. “You remember that?”
“I have both Jé Kinah’s and Meredith’s memories.” Jé grasped her hand. “I remember that your patchwork gown was the most beautiful I had ever seen and I know where you and Niccolo shared your first kiss…”
Maria’s face flushed. Her dark hair had been fought back into a simple, timeless style and she wore none of the fancy lace or excessive ruffles that Jé remembered the royal family to wear. Despite her marriage to the third prince, it was clear Maria had not lost her sensibilities.
“So you are Jé Kinah…”
“And I say to you now what I thought then, that you would make an excellent queen.”
Maria was pleased by the comment and smiled. “I thank you. But it is not I who doubts. It is Niccolo. He is frightened of his own power and authority and so he sometimes lashes out in extremes as if to prove to everyone, especially himself, that he is capable of being King. You are the first judgment he has had to make and he feels all eyes on him.”
“I understand and do not blame him at all.” Jé smiled. “I would find myself hard to believe.”
Maria nodded and stepped aside. Jé looked at Shankara who had said not a word since pledging to represent the Samrajni. His dark, glittering eyes were fixed ever upon her but there was no malice in his face. Jé approached him and he stood up and bowed.
“You are the general for Scheherazade?” She asked.
“I have the honour.” He nodded.
Jé licked her lips. “Is she well?”
“The Samrajni was very well the last I saw of her.”
“Did she,” Jé hoped she wasn’t about to be impertinent, “ever find love?”
The General’s eyes grew guarded. “The illustrious Samrajni rules our beautiful country alone.”
“I see.” Jé felt sad, knowing how long and hard the first three years of Scheherazade’s married life had been. “She is as brave as a lion. I know she would rule well. And she has you.”
“I am honoured to serve Scheherazade.” The way he said her name, almost kindly, jolted something in Jé’s heart and she looked at Shankara curiously. He sensed her perusal and raised his chin, his mask falling back into place, hiding his true feelings. “She has spoken of the she-elf/dragon before.”
Jé looked up. “She did? What did she say?”
Shankara paused, possibly to wonder if he was allowed to speak at such a time. “She said, I do not condemn her. As my Samrajni commands, I shall obey.”
Jé smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”
Hot drinks arrived, courtesy of the chateau kitchens, as well as platters of food. Xanthe arrived, looking flushed and unsettled. She sat down next to Frederik who noticed her unease and whispered to her. She put her head on his shoulder and, out of the corner of her eye, caught Evander’s gaze. He gave the smallest smile. Xanthe distracted herself with taking a mug with foam covering the hot drink beneath.
Marjellan limped in not long after the refreshments had been laid out. “My nose told me there was food to be had!” He bellowed, discarding his axe in an almost frivolous manner by the fireplace, and descending upon the food with enthusiasm.
“I do not feed him.” Snow White said lightly. “Did you enjoy your walk my love?”
“I did. It was very…enlightening.” Marjellan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then saw his wife offer him a handkerchief. “Oh…yes…of course.”
Niccolo came back in to the room and sat down next to Maria. Now that Jé and Evander knew the imminent crown that would be forced upon his reluctant shoulders, they could see how its weight was already pushing him down. The crown was the last thing the third son of King Vittorio had ever wanted to wear. Suddenly faced with a lifetime of ruling, it was any wonder he was fragile and bitter.
Count De St Croix arrived seconds later and if it was possible, he looked even more wrung out than before. He waved away all questions, going to the head of the table and sitting down. He reached for the bottle of liquor and then stopped. He felt Evander’s eyes on him and looked up, choosing, instead, something hot and frothy and milky. “Where is Sir Philip, Jack, Abigail and Krista?” He asked, looking around.
“They have not yet returned Count.” Frederik explained.
There was a long pause of silence, the air filled with the sound of the fire crackling…and Marjellan eating. Finally Sir Philip stepped into the room. “I apologise.” He said before anyone could accuse him. “I hoped to be done sooner but the cremating of Maja and Jerome needed to be overseen.”
Niccolo coughed. “Now?” He looked at De St Croix. “Really?”
“I organised it but,” the Count ran his hand through his hair, the shadows beneath his eyes lengthening, “they must ‘ave believed I wanted it done tonight.”
“I have taken care of it sir.” Philip assured him.
“Thank goodness you ‘ave your ‘ead on your shoulders, looking after my ‘ousehold.” De St Croix remarked.
“Thank you sir. I sent Jack to call Abigail and Krista in to say their final respects…”
“…who was den mistaken for Evander or de witch trying to leave de chateau.” Krista blurted as they escorted Jack in by the scruff of his neck. He wrenched himself free, unfortunately having gone as red as his hair. “What were you doing lurking out in de snow?”
“I got lost on my way back from finding you.” He snarled. “I noticed you just ran off on me and left me there.”
“He was brought to us after we left de furnace.” Abigail explained softly, sitting down. “After we said…goodbye…”
“Do you require a moment?” Snow White asked gently.
“No.” Abigail lifted her head, her mother’s strength clear in her. “I wish dis matter sorted so dat we can move on to de punishment of de Snow Witch.”
“Very well, this council is again in session.” De St Croix gestured to Jé and Evander. “Please continue.”
“Of course…where were we…” Jé mused.
“The rebuilt Chateau.” Evander reminded her.
“Yes. We were welcomed into the chateau by a direct descendant of Belle, Countess De St Croix. She had been told stories of Prince Evander, the great warrior and how one day he could return. She vowed to treat him as if he were family so she looked after us, exceedingly generously.”
“My great, granddaughter?” Dominique said quietly.
“Great, great…great…granddaughter?” Jé looked at Evander who shrugged.
“What was she like?” He insisted.
Jé looked at Evander. “She was extraordinary. We would have been lost without her. I remember her green eyes and her humour and she was a little smitten with her prince charming.”
Evander chuckled then saw Dominique’s expression. “She was over eighty years old!”
“Meredith, however, was unhappy.” Jé quickly continued, before Dominique could rouse Evander about his great, great, great granddaughter. “She went to the forest where I first encountered the beast, hoping to convince it to give her its power.”
“You see!” Niccolo exclaimed. “Not realising her good fortune by escaping her judgment in this time, the Snow Queen goes looking for power once more!”
“So you admit you believe this woman is the Snow Queen?” Frederik asked.
“Well…I…”
“As well as the she-elf Jé Kinah?”
“Not definitively,” Niccolo muttered, “and certainly not enough to justify releasing the witch after nearly ten years of trying to contain her…especially when you admit that she lusted after power to replace that which she lost.”
“I do not understand.” Marjellan remarked. “I thought the dragon perished when you were shot through the heart?”
“We believe that is what happened, yes.” Evander agreed.
“She never really wanted to take hold of that power.” Jé explained. “In the end, Meredith only needed to be recognised…acknowledged…chosen. And when a choice was put before Jé Kinah, paradise or Meredith…she chose her other half. For once these two angry, misunderstood women finally respected each other. Their differences did not mean one was right and one was wrong. They were simply…different.” Her throat closed over and she swallowed. “It was almost too late for minutes later…Meredith was killed.” She looked down at her hands, imagining the blood. “I watched myself die…”
Everyone had goose bumps as she closed her eyes. “I leaned down to kiss her forehead…and felt my body become whole. It was like a glass pitcher of clear water. It is full. Nothing can be added to it until a few drops of dye go in. Then everything is changed.” She opened her eyes. “I am as I was ever meant to be and we have returned to you to make things right.” She scrunched up her face and shook her head. “No, not right…for we cannot undo what has been done…but…”
“This is ludicrous!” Niccolo snapped, standing up. “You expect us to believe that you were born whole, lived separate lives as two individuals and then were somehow put back together again in the future no less!” He felt Maria’s hand and shook it off. “I urge you all to dismiss this fantastic tale and these frauds at once so that we can see justice done!”
“We need time to discuss these events.” De St Croix said firmly. “To study the evidence and draw a rational conclusion.”
“Rational? How is any of dis rational?” Abigail said suddenly and stood up with Krista following. “You want us to let a woman go who was instrumental in killing our…many of our…” The grief she had tried to keep buried deep inside welled up against her defences and she turned away, sobbing. Krista put her hand on her sister’s shoulder, unsure what to do.
Niccolo swallowed and looked around. “I have yet to see absolute proof of this fantastic tale. If indeed any exists.”
The room erupted into arguments, everyone debating his or her point of view. The accents became muddled, the anger became stronger and even Sir Philip, who was able to keep his head, was unable to break through the fray. Evander looked at Jé and moved his finger to touch the ring of the lesser jinni. Jé held her breath, not entirely sure if now was the right time.
“What if there is no proof?” Snow White asked, breaking into the conversation with her calm question, silencing the individual arguments. Her softly spoken voice carved through the melee like a shaft of sunlight into a darkened glen and they all turned to her. “What if all we have to go on is faith?”
“That is easy for you to say. All I knew of the Snow Queen was her face as she unleashed a frozen hell on our lands. And as for Jé Kinah, you all met her. You knew her.” Niccolo looked around at them all. “You all did. You know who you are looking for in this woman’s face. Apart from being introduced many years ago while I was wildly searching for Maria, I do not know this woman of which you speak.”
“But you know I knew her.” Maria said, standing so that Niccolo had to face her. “Without her, I would never have been brave enough to go to the palace to seek you out. I knew Jé Kinah. I trust her.” She cupped his face with her hand. “Do you trust me?”
Niccolo shuddered, his resolve coming undone. “You know I do.”
“Then I tell you that this woman,” Maria turned and looked at Jé, “is the she-elf known as Jé Kinah.” She looked back at Niccolo. “I do not know how but I know she is. Do you believe me?”
Niccolo nodded, his jaw trembling despite biting his teeth together as hard as he possibly could. “Forgive me…” He blurted then put his head on her shoulder. “I cannot do this without you…Maria…I cannot be king.”
De St Croix cleared his throat and Jé and Evander looked at him. “We ‘ave ‘eard enough for now. Perhaps you could take a moment out on the balcony? If we ‘ave any questions, we will be sure to ask them but for now…”
“We’ll get out of your hair.” Evander nodded and escorted Jé through the door at the far end of the room that led to the balcony that could be seen through the large window that dominated the outer wall. The moonlight was blue and the courtyard and Alps, all covered in snow reflected the blue light pristinely. Every shadow was crisp and sharp and there was barely a breath of wind. It had to be in the early hours of the morning and the temperature was just about freezing.
Jé nudged Evander. “Put your hood up.” She said, flicking hers over her head.
“Why?” He asked as he did so.
“Trust me.”
He walked with her to the balcony’s edge and saw her staring firmly out in one direction. Evander followed her gaze and saw two small dots crossing a clearing of white snow. He gasped and went to point, Jé clapped her hand over his and held it down.
“We do not want to give them away. After all we did to help them escape.” She whispered.
“I suppose I could have just used the ring jinni to wish them away.” Evander sighed. “I could have wished them all the way to the Far East! Or to the door of your prison!”
“Then Meredith would never have fallen in love with you,” Jé’s voice was gentle, “and she would never have been saved. And I would not be whole.” She looked at him tenderly. “Is that not worth a few months of travel?”
Evander gazed at her warmly. “Undoubtedly.”
Jé turned back to the view. “There they go…” They watched the small dots disappear into the line of trees, knowing that they were safe from any patrols that might be keeping an eye out for any renegade beasts that could have followed the humans to the chateau.
“It is done.”
“Are they safe?” Said a voice behind them and a boot crunched into the snow that had fallen on the balcony. Evander turned and looked at Sir Philip whose countenance was clear and his stride firm.
“They are.”
Philip nodded and blinked several times. “I wish I knew for certain that trusting you was the right thing.”
“Do you doubt your own eyes?”
“I doubt everything now.” Sir Philip shook his head. “She should have been tried, judged and executed within these walls.”
“It is possible that could still happen.”
Philip shook his head. “Before that happens, the meeting is ready to continue.”
“Then we must not keep fate waiting.”
As they walked back inside Evander grasped Philip’s arm. “How did you know I put my key from the future into my younger self’s pocket?”
Philip cleared his throat. “To tell the truth until I saw De St Croix put his key on the table I thought it was he who had done so.”
“And you organised the cremation, the escape, Xanthe and Jack?” Evander breathed out. “Here all along I thought it was the Count. I knew I entrusted the ring to the right man.”
Sir Philip looked at him in surprise. “What ring?”
“Oh,” Evander put his hand over the ring and shrugged, “you’ll find out.”
The tension in the room had broken as Jé and Evander took up their position at the end of the table. Their court of witnesses sat on either side of the table with De St Croix at the very end. The Count held their gaze firm and looked down the long table at them.
“Jé,” he said, “you ‘ave made claims that you were both the she-elf known as Jé Kinah and the Snow Queen Meredith, were separated and are now ‘ole again. We, the court of many nations, ‘ave discussed these claims and we ‘ave agreed that you are indeed what and ‘o you say you are. While there is some debate over the time travel nature of your claims it seemed irrelevant to the core issue.” He saw Jé breathe out slowly and nodded. “‘owever, this court cannot agree to the release of the Snow Queen in order to aid you. We are accountable to the nations we represent and cannot, in good conscience, allow a dangerous individual, back out into the world. Too many lives are at stake.”
Jé desperately wanted to look at Evander but she held the Count’s gaze firm. She couldn’t give away the fact that Meredith and Evander were already racing away across snowy mountains, heading deep into the unknown as fugitives.
The Count cleared his throat and put his hands on the table. “With your identity established, we will begin the court that will ultimately decide the fate of the Snow Queen.” Suddenly the doors to the room were opened and Freya, in a manner most unlike her, burst in. De St Croix stood upright, his eyes glued on the healer. “Giselle?” He squeaked, his throat closing over.
“Her fever has broken.” Freya looked as though she could hardly believe it. “Whatever it was you gave me to give to her it countered the infection like none of the poultices and remedies I know of. I would not have come if I was not confident of her complete recovery. Your wife will live.”
De St Croix trembled mightily and for a moment those around the table wondered if he was able to faint. He sank into his chair and pressed his long fingers to his face. “Thank God.” He whispered then cleared his throat. “May I…can I…see her?”
“She is sleeping.” Freya said gently. “Sleep is one of the best healers I know. But I am sure she will be glad of your presence.”
His walk to the door was a hair’s breadth off a run but he managed to collect himself at the threshold and looked back. “Might I beg a brief recess?”
“Go!” Almost everyone yelled at him and the Count vanished from sight. Freya looked in relief at Philip, shadows beneath her eyes from many hours of watching and praying. She then turned to Jé and her smile washed away her tiredness as she dashed towards her.
“Jé Kinah!” She cried then stopped. “Oh…is it? Or are you the Snow Queen?”
“Both.” Jé admitted. “But you can call me Jé.”
Freya gasped and flung her arms around her. “I was so worried about you after leaving you in the woods! I was not sure if you were injured or if you would make it out alive…” The ethereal beauty that had slept for over a hundred years pulled back and looked Jé in the eyes. “He saved you.”
“Yes he did.” Jé smiled bashfully.
Philip moved up to where they were. “So are we to be organising a spring wedding?”
Evander’s arm snaked around Jé’s waist. “Why not tomorrow?”
“Evander!”
Evander chuckled at Jé’s exclaim. She looked from him to where Abigail and Krista sat, very quiet and subdued. Jé moved away from their group and approached cautiously. Abigail looked brittle but she still managed to glare at Jé with her mother’s fierceness.
“Just because I agree dat you are who you say you are, does not mean I dink dat de witch should avoid justice.” She said strongly.
“I know.”
“What is it you want?” Krista growled.
“I wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss.” Jé swallowed. “Your mother was…a force to be reckoned with. I know a little of what she went through and I know the mental hurdles she had to overcome. I wish I could have spoken to her again, to praise her for living her life so fully and for raising you on her own.”
Abigail licked her lips. “Danke.” She said quietly.
“I never told her,” Jé added, “my mother’s name was Maja. Jé Maja. I lost her too.” She could feel tears beginning to run down her face and blinked them away. “I know the hollow feeling inside, the way you’re frightened of standing and being strong without her shoulder there to lean on, how her absence makes you doubt if you are really grown up enough to tackle life on your own.” She breathed out shakily. “But I can see her strength in you. I know that you will do just fine. It will take an awful day at a time but you will make it.”
She turned to go and felt her hand being grabbed. Abigail pressed her forehead to the back of her hand, communicating without words. Jé kissed the top of her head and smiled at Krista who nodded before walking back to where Evander, Sir Philip and Freya were standing.
Evander clicked his fingers as she approached. “I just remembered something the Countess told me. I had no idea you had a son, Sir Philip. You never mentioned him. How old is he?”
Freya and Philip looked at each other in confusion while Snow White and Xanthe held their breaths, knowing the blunder Evander had made.
“We, ah, we do not have…”
“We were never blessed.” Freya explained for her husband and it pained her to say it.
Evander wasn’t embarrassed. He was confused. “But I thought…” He paused. “Belle De St Croix marries…”
“Evander,” Jé put her hand into her pocket, “wait…” She drew out a closed fist which had a strange glow about it. “It is warm,” she held it out to Freya, “and it knows what it wants.”
Freya looked at Philip in confusion and held out her hand. Jé sat the small green emerald heart of the greater jinni into her palm.
“Oh…it is lovely…” Freya jumped as the emerald began to glow brighter and brighter. She gasped as its light filled the room, as did a heartbeat. Everyone winced and turned away, looking back when the light had dimmed, the room was dark in comparison. And in Freya’s arms was a chubby baby no more than a month old. Freya was rigid from shock and jumped when the baby gave a wriggle and yawned wide. He nearly slipped from her fingers but Philip lunged forward and scooped the baby into his arms before he fell too far.
The baby squirmed, yawned again and opened his eyes, his big, emerald green eyes. He looked at Philip and made a noise a little like a cry which caused the hardened warrior to almost panic. “What do I do?” He asked, the terror on his face almost comical.
“Feed it, bathe it, dress it and keep it warm.” Jé said lightly as if this was completely normal.
“And wait a few years before giving it a sword to play with.” Evander chuckled.
Freya peered into the babe’s face. “But…what is it?”
Jé took Evander’s hand. “A second chance.” She saw Freya’s concerned expression. “He needs you.”
“But I…”
“You always wanted a child, Freya.” Philip said, the babe grabbing hold of his finger, his eyes immediately closing, content. Philip was already won over and he looked at Freya longingly. She was a little surprised.
“One that grew out of an emerald?”
“We live in remarkable times.”
Only then did Freya allow herself to scoop the baby out of Philip’s arm, much to his relief, and held him against her body, his warmth connecting with hers. It would take very little time at all for her love for him to be just as strong as if he had grown inside her.
“My little Bastian.” She whispered.
“Bastian?”
“You do not like Bastian?”
“I like Sebastian.”
Freya planted a kiss on his forehead. “Sebastian…I like it.” She wrapped her shawl around him. “Come along Sebastian. Let us go see if little Miss Belle has a wrap to spare.”
As Freya left the room, the Count walked in with a decidedly unnatural bounce in his step considering the hour that it was. The news of his wife’s recovery had been better for him than twelve hours deep sleep. Even the shadows beneath his eyes were less. He looked around the room, clapped his hands together and cleared his throat.
“So…shall we get on with the business of judging the Snow Queen?”
Jé and Evander tensed, knowing that the sooner Meredith’s absence was discovered, the more likely she and the younger Evander would be hunted down.
Niccolo looked up, his face weary from all that he carried. “Count, I am the first to say she needs to be judged…but it is three in the morning…”
“Ah,” De St Croix looked at the clock, “so it is…”
“We do not have to address the Snow Queen issue tonight, or today as it happens to be.” Sir Philip remarked. “She will wait for a new day.
“I already ordered one of the guards to ‘ave her brought up.” De St Croix frowned. “We can just send ‘er back down…again?”
The sound of running footsteps echoed through the slumbering chateau and a guard, the one De St Croix had given the order to, burst into the room.
“She’s gone!”
Almost everyone in the room stood up while the Count exclaimed, “Gone!”
“I found the dungeon guard bound and gagged. ‘e ‘ad been knocked down and all the cells were empty!”
“Count!” Niccolo barked sharply. “What have you done?”
“It was not me!” He declared and looked around at their sceptical faces. “Truly. If I ‘ave something to admit to, I do. But this is not me. I ‘ave been by my wife’s side when not with one of you. ‘ow could I have done this?”
“It was me.” All eyes turned to Sir Philip who bore their scrutiny well. He looked at no one but the Count who stared at him in astonishment. Jé glanced at Evander who nodded.
“Sir Philip?” Niccolo said weakly.
“Yes,” he breathed out, “and I take full responsibility for my actions…”
“…which require an explanation.” Frederik wished he could fold his injured arms to emphasize his point.
“I am a knight of the house of De St Croix.” Sir Philip said firmly. “I am charged with the care of the De St Croix family. They are my primary concern.”
“Did you act alone?” Niccolo demanded.
“I did as I felt I should do.”
“Not just him…” Marjellan stood up. “I may have had a hand in it.”
“Marjellan…” Snow White gasped. Her husband looked at her.
“I went to lay eyes on the young Evander, because I honestly could not believe that there might be two. When I discovered he was not in his room I knew where he had gone so I went to confront him and yet he convinced me.”
“I do not believe dis…” Krista muttered.
“Did you not think it was odd that I was wondering around in the snow after I had called you and your sister in to the chateau?” Jack said. She glared at him. “I played my part in it.”
“At my orders.” Philip said firmly. “Jack is not to be punished.”
“That is not your decision.” The Count said furiously.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
“You could not wait and trust in this council?” Frederik barked. “You acted upon your own interests and betrayed us all.”
“Erik,” Xanthe’s manner was bold but there was a touch of fear and guilt in her eyes as she looked at her husband, “they were not the only ones…”
Frederik stared at her, his face going white. “Xanthe…you?” She nodded, not trusting her voice. “But…why?” Xanthe went to touch him but he recoiled in shock. “Why?”
“Because she helped us when no one else would.” Philip said strongly, taking attention away from the guilt ridden Xanthe. “Because I spent over a decade trapped by mind games and fear until one day she fell through my window, helped me escape and wake my true love.” He looked around them all. “That’s what she did for all of us. Not one of us would have our happily ever after…or simply be free of whatever evil bound us without her help. She came when no one else did. She fought when we were not strong enough to do so and she rescued us out of the hell we were living in.”
“That was Jé Kinah, not the witch!” Niccolo protested.
“Have we not just decreed that this woman here is both she-elf and Snow Queen?” Philip argued. “The one called Meredith knows how to free Jé Kinah and she, along with Evander, have gone to do so.” He turned back to the Count. “You know I am right.”
“I thought it strange that you did not protest when I said we could not let ‘er go.” The Count muttered, turning away from Philip and looking at Jé and Evander. “You knew this would happen.”
“Just as, for us, it has already happened.” Evander explained.
“I know you will dismiss me from your service and I will remain to be held accountable for my actions.” Philip said, arresting the Count’s attention. De St Croix looked conflicted.
“Who cares about Philip!” Niccolo argued. “We have to raise the alarm and send out scouts and hunting parties. We have to bring her back to be judged!”
Abigail and Krista immediately stood to their feet and began to move towards the door. Evander lunged for it and stood before them.
“Out of de way!” Abigail snapped.
“Never.”
“I have claws und I can kill with dem. What do you have?”
“Me.” Jé pressed the tip of the poker into Abigail’s neck. Her head snapped around, glaring at the green eyes that held her gaze without a drop of anger in them. “But I will not fight you.”
“Den you are out of options.”
“Not yet.” Jé turned around, leapt onto the table and sprinted to the end where De St Croix’s chair was. She leapt onto the back of it, leaning and twisting it so that it balanced precariously on one leg while she looked at them all staring up at her, springy dark curls whipping around her fine features, her porcelain skin…her rose lips parted. “You want someone to judge?! Then judge me!”
“Jé!” Evander cried.
“You have already decreed that I am both she-elf and Snow Queen. I will stand in place of the one you just lost.” Jé pointed the poker at all of them. “I have committed acts of murder, of war and of deception against all your nations. I will list my charges and if but one of you condemns me for what I have done, so be it!”
“No!” Evander ran to her but was caught by Philip. “You can’t do this!”
“I can and I will.” She replied. “What say you? Is your conviction that I am both women in one strong enough for you to hang your charges upon me?”
The Count looked around. Abigail and Krista had not moved, despite the fact that Evander was no longer guarding the door. “You ‘ave endeared yourself to all ‘ere in some way or another. Will that not affect our decision?”
“Of course it will,” she lowered the poker, “but you are not here to testify to the good I have done. You are here to judge the evil. Do you agree?”
There was a tense pause as they considered her words. Evander strained but was held fast in Sir Philip’s grasp.
De St Croix swallowed. “I agree.”
“As do we.” Snow White spoke for herself and Marjellan.
“And me!” Jack cried.
“I agree for my wife and I.” Philip responded.
“You are all very confusing,” Shankara remarked, “but I agree.”
“We…agree.” Abigail said reluctantly and she and Krista sat down.
“It seems I have no choice but to agree.” Niccolo looked at Maria who nodded.
All eyes turned to Frederik and Xanthe. The injured former king looked at his wife who was sobbing almost uncontrollably. “Why did you not tell me what you were doing?” He asked.
“Because the last time I begged you to do something against your conscience it cost you your crown and your country descended into civil war.” She wept and turned away. “I could not ask you to do so again.”
Frederik forced his aching right arm to reach out and turn his wife’s face towards him. He rubbed his thumb across her wet cheeks. “I would have helped you.”
Xanthe looked up, surprised. “You…you would have?”
“Of course. I may have tried to talk you out of it…but I would have been there for you.”
Xanthe gasped and flung her arms around Frederik. “I thought you despised me for it! I would not have blamed you if you had.”
“Never Xanthe. Never.” Frederik looked up and nodded to De St Croix who, in turn, looked at Jé.
“It seems we are in agreement. You may list your crimes and, should we think you ‘ave missed anything, we will add to it before coming to a decision.”
“No!” Evander fought off Philip and stepped forward. “She has served her time! You think she did not suffer? She suffered! I was there! I saw what she endured for centuries! She suffered for all of you!”
“Evan,” Jé’s eyes were soft and she bit her bottom lip, “I need to do this. Please.” She saw his shoulders sag in defeat and knew he had resigned himself to what was about to happen. Jé stepped down from the table and stood before them all.
“The very first life I destroyed was my father’s. I then took up residence in a ruined castle and lured princes and knights to their deaths. Forty three in total. Though they came with the knowledge that there was a dragon guarding the ‘princess’ and knew the perils, it does not absolve me of my guilt. Then there was Luka, an innocent caught up in my own personal battle.” Her fingers lightly touched the place where the vial of his ashes used to hang. She closed her eyes and let her arm fall down. “As Meredith…the list seems endless but as you know I attempted to assassinate true love wherever I could and in the end I began a war that spanned many countries and I took many lives. They both knew the choices they were making and went into their decisions with their eyes wide open, their hearts burning with anger and fear.” She opened her eyes and looked around. “I stand before you, well aware of what I have done and though my head tells me to run…my heart dictates that I stay.” She caught sight of Evander shaking his head and smiled weakly at him. “Not even true love can blot out these sins.”
“Oh Jé,” he put his hand over his face, “no…”
“We…need a moment…to discuss…” The Count cleared his throat. “Please wait outside.”
Jé walked stiffly down the length of the table, Evander mirroring her on the other side. They joined at the door and Evander opened it and closed it behind them. Jé shivered as they stood on the landing. They were passed by servants who had no idea as to the horrors they’d seen or done or the verdict they waited to hear. It was almost comical but Jé couldn’t bring herself to smile as she looked at Evander sadly.
“I am sorry…”
“Shush,” he said as he drew her close, bridging the gap between them and closed his eyes so he could rest his cheek on the top of her head, “I know…I know…”
Jé allowed his warm embrace to hold her tight, fearing it could be the last time they would be together for a while. “Will you wait for me?” She asked.
“To be released from prison?” He asked and she nodded. “I would without question but I do not live as long as an elf. I will wait but I might be bones and dust by the time you are released.”
“I will not live forever.” Evander looked at her in surprise. “I am human in that regard. I will age, grow old and die…”
“Really?” He exclaimed and hugged her tight again. “I am so pleased to hear that.” He paused. “I mean…you know what I mean.”
“Yes I do.” Jé sighed deep and long, soaking up every second she could in the arms where she had felt the safest. “Evander…you have not said we should run away.” He pulled back to look at her. “There are no guards here. We could run.”
He raised his eye brows. “You would not run.”
“No.”
“And I would not ask it of you,” Evander clenched his jaw, “but I fear watching you be condemned. Imprisonment is not all that could happen to you.”
Jé went to speak when the doors opened again. Sir Philip looked out. “They’re still here.” He called over his shoulder. “There were several bets as to whether you would still be here.”
“We thought about it.” Jé admitted with a ghost of a smile. Philip didn’t return it.
“We have reached a verdict.”
Evander felt his heart tighten. “That was fast.” He murmured.
“I am relieved.” Jé replied as they walked back into the room, hand in hand.
De St Croix sat in his chair, facing them down the long table, his long fingers pressed together. “Members of this council ‘ave reached a verdict regarding your testimony. Will you accept their judgment?”
“I will.”
“As I say your name, stand up and declare your verdict.” De St Croix took a deep breath. “Marjellan and Snow White.”
Evander held his breath as the dwarf and his lovely wife stood up. He was pleased they were first for they had been there in the beginning. Surely they would be lenient.
“Guilty.”
He felt as though he had been punched. His hand must have tightened on Jé’s because she squeezed it back but he was nearly insensible to the motion as De St Croix called.
“Abigail and Krista, daughters of Maja.”
These women had been rescued from a dangerous werewolf that had controlled them with fear. They would be kind…
“Guilty.”
Evander’s heart was a lead weight in his chest as the next couple stood up. It was Frederik and Xanthe. They had been terrified, on the run from an angry mob. They would be…
“Guilty.”
“Sir Philip on behalf of ‘imself and Lady Freya?”
“Guilty.”
His lungs were empty of air and he felt like his knees might give way at any second.
“Jack the giant slayer on behalf of ‘imself and of ‘alley, leader of ‘e giants?”
“Guilty.”
“Prince Niccolo and Princess Maria?”
“Guilty.”
The room swam before Evander’s eyes. He was in real danger of being sick.
“I, Count Dominique De St Croix on behalf of myself and my wife…Guilty. Finally, General Shankara as the representative of Samrajni Scheherazade?”
“Guilty.”
Evander couldn’t look at Jé. He couldn’t look anywhere. He only knew he was clinging on tightly to her hand, the one solid thing left in his quickly disintegrating world.
“Jé, combined form of the she-elf Jé Kinah and the Snow Queen Meredith, you ‘ave been found guilty by all counts. It is time to pass your sentence.” De St Croix gestured to both sides of the table. “The task of deciding the sentence ‘as been left to me. I am torn between imprisonment or execution as both seem apt…so I will choose both. Will everyone please rise?”
Everyone stood up and Evander drew Jé closer as though he could possibly protect her from what was about to happen.
De St Croix squared his shoulders and breathed in deep. “I ‘ereby condemn you to fifty years imprisonment for every nation represented ‘ere which, by my accounts, equals roughly four ‘undred and fifty…five ‘undred years?” He looked at Niccolo who nodded.
“Those are my figures exactly Count.” He replied.
“Which, by your previous testimony, ‘as already been served...which you are currently serving. These figures are, of course, a combined total of both Jé Kinah’s imprisonment and the Snow Queen’s frozen sleep.” Evander froze to the ground and he swore his heart had stopped beating as the Count moved on. “Now regarding the execution. It is my understanding that the Snow Queen was killed in the future. That is one death. And, as a point of clarification, Sir Philip?”
“Yes Count?”
“Would a silver arrow through a person’s ‘eart, kill them?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“I see.” De St Croix looked back to Jé and Evander. “This means that you ‘ave both endured your punishment and served your time for your crimes. Jé, she-elf/human, by the authority vested in me by these persons ‘ere and as a representative of my King, I decree that you ‘ave paid the price.”
Evander was as stiff as a poker as he watched all the faces turn towards him and Jé, all of them smiling…or at least their approximation of smiling.
“D…Does that…mean…”
“You are free to go.”
Jé suddenly gasped and half fainted. Evander immediately shook off his weakness and caught her as a valiant knight should. He was aware that people were applauding as he drew her up and gently patted her face, her eyes fluttering.
“Jé…are you…”
“I…I…” She shivered in shock. “This does not make sense…”
“It makes perfect sense.” Evander chuckled, his arms around her firmly. “Look…look around Jé…you are free!” He gently raised her up and put her on her feet, his hands around her waist to keep her from stumbling.
Immediately Xanthe was upon her, embracing her tightly. Jé was nearly bowled over by her enthusiasm, the scent of salt water and the faintest sounds of waves crashing on a far away shore washing over her. “Oh I am so pleased! So pleased!” Xanthe cried. Jé looked up over her shoulder as Frederik approached. He smiled at her.
“What a relief.” He said, holding out his right arm weakly. She grasped it gently. “Thank you Jé. Thank you.”
General Shankara moved towards her and bowed. “The Samrajni will be pleased.”
“When you see her…tell her…” Jé floundered.
“I will tell her.” Shankara bowed again and moved away.
Abigail and Krista approached, their faces pale after all they had endured. “Moeder never forgave herself for what she allowed to happen,” Abigail said quietly, “even though it seemed to be de only choice at de time.” She sighed. “I do not remember her smiling.” She looked up, eyes shining with unbroken tears. “Do you dink she is finally happy?”
Jé grasped both of their hands. “Do not think that your mother did not know happiness in life. She had you both to remind her that out of the darkness, light always emerges triumphant. You are her success, her triumph.”
Niccolo and Maria moved closer as the sisters stepped away. Niccolo’s eyes were downcast. Jé tipped his chin up. “I do not blame you Niccolo. Stop blaming yourself.” He shook his head and looked to one side.
“The first big judgment I have to make and I almost got it wrong.”
“But you did not.” Jé insisted. “You have a difficult road ahead Niccolo because your nature is not an obvious ‘kingly’ one. But you are willing to listen to the advice of others and, with your remarkable wife by your side I know you will make a fine and noble king.”
He breathed out and looked up at her. There was no doubt in her eyes as she gazed back at him. Maria lent forward and kissed her cheek. “You know, you were my fairy godmother after all.”
Jé chuckled and looked over her shoulder to see Jack hovering nearby, wanting to come closer yet terrified to do so. “Jack.” She said, walking over to him. He jumped out of his skin and fiddled with his belt. “You do not know how I worried about you after what happened. Your house was destroyed, you’d suffered a terrible shock and your mother…”
“Married Simon.”
Jé looked up. “Really?”
“And with the goose laying gold eggs,” Jack shrugged, “we lived very well.”
“You…you still have the goose?” Jé said in astonishment.
“It died after a few years but Simon was clever. He put money aside and made sure he took care of my mother and me. We were far better off because of you.”
Jé hugged him tight. “You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that.” She whispered then stepped back. “Jack…the giant slayer.”
He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flaming with colour.
“Out of the way boy!” Marjellan barged through and stood before Jé. “You certainly know how to complicate matters, don’t you?”
Jé raised an eyebrow. “Do they still refer to you as grumpy?”
He gave a gruff ‘bah’ and stomped away as Snow White walked up. Jé looked into her face, which had aged as time was prone to do, and yet there was still softness in her eyes. “You were the first.”
Snow White smiled and all observations of age vanished as she spread beauty across her face, washing away the years. “No. You were the first.” She said. “Time for your own fairy tale to come true Jé.” She looked at Evander who hovered nearby, ever present and unwilling to let Jé out of his sight. “You even have your own prince charming and knight in shining armour.”
Jé’s eyes flickered and a drop of doubt disturbed the joy she expressed. “But…am I allowed to be so happy?”
“Of course. How else can you have a ‘happily’ ever after?” Snow White winked.
At the far end of the room Sir Philip approached Count De St Croix. The Count looked at his knight and raised his chin.
“So…what am I going to do with you?”
“Whatever consequences may come, I ask that you allow Freya to stay in your service.”
“Even though I am ‘ighly likely to dismiss you?”
Philip winced. “You could…demote me? I could try my hand at gardening…”
“Or I could ‘ave you cleaning out the latrines…” De St Croix folded his arms then sighed. “What kind of a reward would that be?”
“Reward?”
“When I ‘ired you, I wanted someone who would look after my family and this chateau as if it were ‘is own…which is what you did. From what I ‘ave been able to garner from this exceedingly strange turn of events, you ‘ave been instrumental in bringing my wife back from the dead and keeping me from burning this place to the ground.” De St Croix held out his hand and Sir Philip shook it. “What fool of a Count dismisses such a man from ‘is service?”
As De St Croix walked away to congratulate Jé and Evander, Philip let out a shuddering breath and nodded. The Count clapped Evander hard on the shoulder and embraced Jé firmly. After speaking for a few moments, Evander grasped Jé’s hand and drew her to the window, everyone else at the other end of the room.
“I feel wrung out and weary.” He chuckled. “Perhaps I am getting old.”
Jé smiled, taking his hands. “Not old. Not at all.”
Evander’s collar became a bit tight and he struggled to swallow past his thick tongue. “So…”
“So…” Jé paused. “Evan...I mean Evander…”
“I quite like Evan.”
“Are you sure?”
“It implies a familiarity to which you are more than qualified to express.”
Jé blushed. “So, Evan...”
“Yes?”
“If everything is the way it should be then what about the fire?”
“What do you mean?”
“We learnt that Giselle died from the infection and De St Croix set the chateau on fire. If she is healed…”
“It is possible we only assumed that Giselle died. The date on her grave was obscured. I couldn’t really tell when she died but from the Countess said…”
“Then I still do not understand where the rumour came from that De St Croix set the chateau alight.”
Evander sighed, emptying his body of breath. “Jé…I am tired. I do not have the ability to figure that one out. Can we just let some things be a mystery?”
“Of course.” Jé smiled and let him wrap his arms around her, spinning her around with what little energy remained in their weary bodies before stopping. She held him close, enjoying his warmth and the scent of him that made her feel like she had come home. Her hands moved across his shirt, feeling the contours of his skin, muscle and bone. She could even feel his scars. So many times he could have died and yet he was here. He was here and so was she. Their joy should be so overwhelming that they should laugh or cry. All they could do was hold on to each other as the reality of what had happened, what could have happened, how they came so close to losing it all sank in. Their embrace was not of two lovers desperate to consummate their love. It was of two people who clung to each other, aware that life was fleeting, precious and unpredictable.
Beyond the windows the sky had darkened in the hour before dawn to almost black with the absence of the moon but now it was beginning to turn indigo again. The landscape was still almost colourless but Jé’s sharp eyes could spot the glow of the sun peeking up over the tree line.
Then her eyes narrowed and she leaned forward over Evander’s shoulder as the sun began to rise unnaturally fast, darkness itself looming around it as it tore across the landscape, bulldozing its way through the trees and sending a spray of steam up in its enormous wake.
“De St Croix did not set the chateau on fire.” She whispered, grabbed Evander’s hand. “Run!”
He followed instinctively but looked over his shoulder to see a fireball come streaking towards them. He swore and roared the same command. “Run!”
Everyone in the room were dumbfounded and slow as Jé and Evander ordered them out, shoving them in their haste through the doors, flinging them onto the other side and throwing themselves out of the way before something hit the chateau and the room they had been standing in erupted into flames, the explosion reaching out from the top of the chateau, screaming into the main hall above the heads of the hundreds of soldiers gathered in the foyer.
Jé had thrown herself over Snow White to protect her on one side of the doorway while Evander was on the other, having pushed Niccolo and Maria behind him. The flames receded and they could see each other from across the balcony that was now charred and on fire.
“What was that?” De St Croix yelled.
“Dragon!” Jé cried back.
Niccolo shook his head. “It’s dead! You said the damn thing was dead!”
“I thought it was! But it can exist without me, or any host, for a time.”
“It must have realised you’d returned and come back to claim you.” Evander coughed, smoke billowing out of the burned out room.
“Who cares why it’s here. Let’s just get rid of the damn thing once and for all!” Marjellan argued, heaving his axe up. “Anyone not fighting gets downstairs now!”
“Count!” Sir Philip pushed De St Croix behind him. “See to the safety of your family! Go!”
“Giselle is unwell...I cannot move ‘er.” The Count’s expression bordered on hysterical. Suddenly a gush of red overwhelmed their position and they cowered, thinking the dragon had attacked again. Standing in the red haze was Evander, unafraid as the smoke formed a person who hovered in mid air.
“Jinni of the ring!” Evander yelled above the screams that filled the stone walls.
“The dragon is not dead it seems.” The jinni surmised.
“What can you do about it?”
“Nothing.”
“What kind of an answer is that?”
“You do not understand master. This creature you fight is beyond me, beyond the greater jinni of the lamp...beyond any power that man can possess. We are eternal in spirit, not infinite. Our lives are fleeting.”
“I need something more than that!” Rafters creaked above them and one burst from its studs to come falling down with an almighty crash into the foyer.
“There is nothing more.”
“What about something silver?”
“That is used to kill something that transforms!” The even, measured tone of the lesser jinni was becoming distraught. “It does not transform! It will not stop until it uses up every last drop of power it has and expires or takes another host.”
“Then transport people out of here.” Evander thrust the ring at the Count. “He will get your family and anyone not able to fight to safety.” They staggered as the walls of the chateau trembled from an impact so strong it could only be one thing. “Go Count!”
De St Croix sprinted for the stairs, Maria and Xanthe following. Marjellan thrust his axe at Jé, scooped Snow White up in his arms and threw her over the charred, glowing remains of the landing outside the doorway. Evander caught her and spun her towards the stairs.
“Run Snow!” Marjellan yelled when she hesitated, the chateau shaking as the dragon threw its full force against it. “Niccolo! Get out her out of here!”
Niccolo grabbed and practically dragged Snow White to the stairs, descending into the madness of the chateau in chaotic uproar as the soldiers panicked.
“Frederik!” Philip threw the injured axe thrower his keys. “Get to the armoury and take any soldiers who will go with you!”
Frederik nodded and took off at a sprint as another blast tore through the doorway that now was a charred, burning arch. Evander, lurched back, his eyebrows singed as he searched desperately for Marjellan, Jé, Jack and Shankara through the smoke who were on the side where there was no way down.
“Jé!” He yelled, bracing himself against the heat. When it finally let up he went to move forward but Philip pulled him back.
“Get over here!” He yelled at those stranded on the other side.
Jé turned to Jack. “You are the lightest. Go.”
Jack moved forward, shaking as he inched along the black boards that crumbled beneath his feet. He looked in terror into the room they had been in only a minute before, its entire interior on fire, blackened and charred. The violence of the attack suddenly hit him and his body seized up in shock, frozen to the ground that was disappearing under him.
“Go Jack!” Jé cried but she was too late as he dropped through the floor, the boards tumbling down into the main hall. Jack scrambled for a hold, burning his fingers on the coals and the hot stone. Suddenly he caught sight of something moving on the other side of the melted glass. Something big…black…and glowing red in its core.
“The…there…there!” Jack howled.
Evander leaned out precariously and managed to grab one of his arms, hauling him to his feet as Philip pulled back on them both, another burst of flames ripping through the archway, destroying even more of the landing and forcing them back.
“We have to get off of this landing!” Marjellan roared. “Got any ideas?”
Jé turned to speak then pointed at Shankara who was standing on the railing of the landing, his giant curved sword out of its sheath. He looked at them and simply hopped off, falling from their sights. Jé and Marjellan leaned over the edge and saw Shankara sliding down a tapestry, his sword dragging through the thick material, slowing his descent until he dropped into the main hall. He raised his sword high above his head and yelled in his native tongue. His soldiers, terrified at the unexpected onslaught when they thought they had sanctuary, remembered themselves and their duty with the appearance of their general and they rallied to his side.
“Think you can do that?” Jé looked at Marjellan.
“I can try.” Marjellan swung himself over the railing, gripping hard and bracing himself against it. He took a deep breath and dropped, slamming his axe so hard it hit the stone wall through the tapestry, causing sparks to fly. He descended much faster than Shankara, letting go and rolling before he skidded to a stop on the ground. He looked up and saw Jé high above.
She looked over at Evander who hadn’t moved from his position on the other side of the gap. She had no weapon to make the same descent.
“You can make it!” He cried. “Jump across!” Jé hopped up onto the railing. She could gauge where it lost its integrity better than the floor. Evander peered into the room and could see the night sky and stars through what remained of the wall. More importantly, he couldn’t see the dragon. “Go!”
Jé sprinted along the railing’s narrow length, the tips of her toes pushing off the tip just as it crumbled into nothing and leapt into the air, landing on the railing on the other side with a gasp. She looked at Evander who stared at her in astonishment.
“Elves usually land on their feet.” She half chuckled before he pulled her down and they ran for the armoury.
Frederik, as disabled as he was, had been handing out weapons to the soldiers and organising them into a defensive front when Sir Philip arrived. They quickly sent anyone who was not a soldier but willing to stay out in different directions and with buckets in order to toss snow onto the chateau in order to douse the flames.
“Shankara is leading his soldiers in an assault of the dragon in order to keep it from burning the chateau down around us and picking us off. We must come up with a plan to kill it.” Philip spied Evander and Jé running into the armoury and unhooked a quiver of arrows and threw it to the knight. “Your aim was true once.”
Their terror was getting the better of them. Evander shook off the urge to become hysterical. He had to remain focussed and calm. “How do I get up onto the roof?”
“The bell tower was the best way but it has a wooden staircase. It’s likely to be engulfed in flames.”
Evander took up a bow. “I’ll scale the outside of the chateau.”
Jé clutched at his chest. “And then what?”
“And then I’ll get its attention.”
“By dying?”
“I have to give the Count time to move the civilians to safety.”
“Safety?” Jé’s breath was sharp. “I know this creature. I know the blackness in its heart. There is no where safe. It will not stop until it has turned this world into a graveyard.”
“If I can get it to use up all its reserves, until there is nothing left in it and it expires…” Evander yelled as dust fell from the rafters above, the chateau quaking so hard it rattled the weapons still hanging from the wall.
“That is your plan?” She exclaimed. “All it needs is one host. One! Out of millions of humans it just needs one with enough desperation in their heart to accept its foul price and it will live forever!”
“What would you have me do?” He roared, pulling out of her grasp. Jé watched him buckle a sword belt around his waist then saw more quivers and bows. When Evander looked up from sheathing the sharpest sword he could find he saw Jé strapping on a leather vest, a quiver of arrows and a slid a sword into a sheath, readying for battle. “Jé…”
“You are not going up there alone.”
“You cannot...”
“Cannot what?” Her eyes flashed and he saw something hard, something stubborn in her eyes...something that told him she was resigned to her fate. “I am going with you to put an end to this.”
He grabbed her arm so tightly it might have been terrifying if not for the love that burned in his eyes.
“What if it puts an end to you?” He demanded.
They stared at each other, unblinking for what seemed an eternity. Evander’s jaw was so tight it threatened to snap. He glared at Jé, frustrated by her need to rush into danger. Marjellan and Frederik, the only warriors left in the room, held their breath, waiting for resolution.
“What can we do?” Marjellan demanded when the silence was broken by another grout splintering crash.
Evander’s jaw wouldn’t loosen. He couldn’t say anything. All he could imagine was Jé’s body broken and burnt as he lost her once more.
“Without a host, the demon can only exist in shadow form but do not let that fool you.” Jé warned them without taking her eyes from Evander. “It has the same powers of a dragon. Shackle its legs or disable its wings.”
“Right!” Marjellan grabbed another axe from the wall for good measure. “You with me Frederik?”
Despite being in pain from the injuries he had already sustained, Frederik didn’t baulk at the charge. “I am.”
“Go.” Jé ordered. “Go now!”
Evander and Jé ran from the room, sprinting towards an outer door that led them to a steep drop right outside the chateau’s west wall. It was where dirty water buckets and bed pans were emptied, a steep, deep latrine. Cinders showered down and sparks flew as they looked up, the black shape of a tail whipping about above their heads and the edge of the wing could be seen way up on the rooftop.
Without speaking they began to climb the chateau, the gothic architecture providing them with many footholds and places to grasp. The combined roar of soldiers was suddenly heard and they knew that Shankara was leading his men in the charge against the dragon’s legs. They could hear it snarling, roaring in indignation at the assault and it turned, its tail bashing against the roof, sending dozens of loose tiles raining down like deadly hailstones. Jé and Evander flattened against the wall under the narrow eave and waited for the tiles to stop falling until they managed to climb up onto the ledge of the roof. Evander’s eyes grew wide, the sheer enormity of the dragon, as it wrapped itself around the roof, the flatness of its form and the way its belly glowed red and then white before it let loose its flames, freezing his heart.
He looked at Jé who peered over the edge of the rise of the roof, fear etched across her features. She, of all people, knew exactly what this creature could do. She had faced off against it once and though she had survived she had lost someone dear. It was any wonder she had not fled into the woods, mad with fear. She shook off her fright and looked at him, trying to smile though it didn’t come close to reaching her eyes.
“Come on!” She cried, spurring herself on and clambered up…just as the dragon twisted and its tail caught her in her chest, flinging her from the roof. Evander, with one hand gripped precariously on the edge of the roof, lunged out and caught the tips of her fingers. She swung towards the chateau wildly, smacking into its stone embrace so hard the wind was knocked out of her.
For one terrible moment Evander thought she had been killed but then her fingers flexed around his, tightening on his grasp. She looked up at him, one arm cradling her ribs and he knew she was hurt. Her leather vest was no match for the might of a dragon. He winced and looked past her to the thick trees below and the soft snow on their branches.
“Jé,” he said, “I love you.” And let go of her hand.
Jé fell in silence, so stunned at what he’d done she couldn’t even think to scream. She twisted in the air and saw the ground coming up towards her fast. Her arms whipped out and caught a thin top branch of one of the large trees that flanked the chateau. It protested her light weight before she put her feet on the branch beneath. Through the black smoke, grey haze and dirty snow surrounding the chateau, she could only just make out the form of Evander scrambling to the top. Her eyes filled with red flames as a ball of fire exploded on the roof and his form became a silhouette before he disappeared from her sight.
“You son of a…!” Jé swore and looked at the chateau wall. On the ground level was an unbroken window. It blessedly only had one pane of glass in it but that was because it was small. Still she’d squeezed herself through smaller. She dropped down several branches, lined herself up and sprinted along a thicker branch’s length to the end, leapt off and threw herself through the pane of glass. She immediately tried to go into a roll but her injured ribs caused pain to streak through her body. She gasped, skidding badly across the floor before leaping to her feet, ignoring the protest in her body and sprinted across the room. Suddenly the bulk of the Count of De St Croix appeared in front of her and she slammed into him. He pushed her back.
“What are you doing here?” She demanded. “You were supposed to get those who are not fighting to safety!”
“I did. They are safe in the palace of Niccolo and Maria.” De St Croix held up his broadsword. “I made Maria wish me back with the ring.”
She paused in all the chaos to stare at him. “You left the ring with them?”
He nodded, his throat closing over. “If I do not return, at least they can.”
He had left the ring with Maria, Xanthe, Snow White, Freya, Giselle and all their children...because he knew it was not likely he would be coming back.
“No. No one else is going to die for my folly.” She spat through gritted teeth and her eyes were as sharp as diamonds as she grabbed him by the collar. “The bell tower stairs! Where are they?”
“Through that door and to the left. They come out on the roof near the bell.” De St Croix staggered backwards as she pushed him away, launching herself to the door and sprinting to the left. There was a little, narrow door that she opened and was immediately showered upon by sparks and ash. She pulled back and waited for a moment before peering inside. The stairs wound their way around and around the tiny shaft which went all the way up to the roof. The trapdoor at the very top was made of wood and on fire, dropping burning chunks onto the old and dry wooden staircase. Jé put her arm up to cover her mouth and began to climb. She had to move fast as she could feel the staircase creaking and giving way beneath her feet.
She had to reach the roof. She had to reach Evander.
Many leagues away, in rooms that were covered in tapestries and flocked curtains, thick carpets and candelabra, the refuges of the chateau huddled in terrified groups. Despite the distance now put between them and the dragon, they could not shake off the fear so easily. Freya darted about, administering aid to those that had been wounded in the initial onslaught.
“More water!” She cried as she sponged clean a bad burn. The young lad, no more than ten, looked at her with eyes far too wide for his young face. “You are very brave. This will scar but it will heal.” She wrapped the wound firmly and looked up to see Maria ordering the servants to keep up a continuous line of fresh water.
“Niccolo is bringing healers to the palace.” Maria explained.
“How long...”
Suddenly a dozen men and women appeared in the room, gasping for air from the abruptness of their travel. Niccolo strode into the room, the jinni ring on his finger. “No time for questions. We must save as many lives as we can!”
Their stunned state was moved by compassion and the healers and physicians descended upon the wounded.
“Excellent Niccolo.” Freya pushed her hair from her face. “I am going to look in on Giselle.” The woman with hair of spun gold hurried to one of the guest rooms where Giselle had been whisked away by the jinni of the ring. Freya had no time to contemplate the enormity of her instantaneous travel. She could do so later when her patients were well and rested. Giselle was fighting the need for sleep with her fear for her husband. Their children were gathered in the room, all having escaped any serious injury. Xanthe sat with them, singing quietly to calm their nerves.
“Dominique?” Giselle called out.
“No word as yet.” Freya answered honestly. “How are my youngest charges?”
“They are here.” Snow White gestured.
Two ornate red wood drawers had been pulled out, laid with plush blankets and held a baby each. Neither Belle nor Sebastian had suffered any ill effects from their rapid travel. Freya felt a tremble of relief but she didn’t allow herself the luxury of relaxing. There were others who required her attention.
“I will be back soon. I promise.” As she left Giselle’s room she encountered Niccolo and Maria who were arguing wildly.
“No! I refuse. I will not let you.” Niccolo snapped.
“You will not let me!” Maria’s tone was as sharp as a sword. “You may be king soon and able to order the entirety of the kingdom about but you are never going to do that with me!”
“Are there not enough battles being fought today?” Freya demanded, exasperated.
Niccolo turned to Freya. “She wants to go back to the chateau!”
“What? Why?” Freya looked at Maria.
“To help. They are all on their own, fighting that beast. I cannot stay here and do nothing.”
“You are not doing nothing. You are looking after the wounded.”
“We have healers now.”
“Maria, it is too dangerous.” Freya insisted. “The chateau could be destroyed by now...”
“...then we owe it to our husbands to return and fight.” Snow White said gently from Giselle’s bedroom doorway. She moved to stand with them. “If I can bring Marjellan home, then I am with you Maria.”
“As am I.” Xanthe called.
“No, not with your feet...”
“I am going.” She retorted.
“Look what you’ve started!” Niccolo barked at Maria who put her hands on her hips. “You are not warriors!”
“Maybe not,” Snow White looked around at her fellow princesses, “but we are not the damsels in distress we have been made out to be.”
“You are forgetting something. I have the ring!” Niccolo growled, surrounded by women. He clutched the hand bearing the ring to his chest and covered it with his other hand.
“Yes you do...and we are asking nicely...”
Evander let loose several arrows and then dove behind the bell tower as the dragon roared, its flat black form pressed against the chateau’s broad exterior. He could only just hear the shouts from way beneath him of Marjellan, of Frederik and Philip, of Abigail and Krista, of Shankara and his men all attacking the beast, hoping he would save them.
The damn thing would simply not die!
He winced and closed his eyes, wondering if Jé would ever forgive him for dropping her. He couldn’t risk her going up against this creature, not already as injured as she was. He peered out from behind the tower and saw the dragon clamber back up, holes poked in its shadow wings. The troops on the ground were doing damage. It couldn’t last forever. It was up to him to finish it off.
He stood up and sent three arrows in rapid succession towards it, the tip, shaft and end sinking into its darkness and disappearing. Apart from the scream it let out, Evander couldn’t tell if he was actually managing to injure the beast. He had laid another arrow in the bow when he spotted red from the corner of his eye and dove out of the way just in time as a streak of fire ripped past him, setting anything wooden on the roof alight that wasn’t already blazing. It singed the hair on his arms and sucked the air out of his lungs.
There was a strange, terrible sense of inevitability about what was happening. As though what was happening had already happened and nothing, no matter what he did, could change that.
Evander breathed out.
At least Jé was nowhere near this deadly inferno now.
Jé was in danger of going up in flames at any second. The rain of cinders was fairly well constant and it was highly likely that her shirt was burning. Her vest was smoking, the leather harder to set alight but it would not protect her forever. The tiny stairwell was like an oven and she raced up the last few steps to the trapdoor. As the string on her bow was singed and useless she used it to lift the trapdoor open. She did a standing jump, her feet landing firmly on the roof, hot wind blowing her dark curls around her face. The sky was blotted out with smoke as the breeze blew from the west and flames licked up and danced all around her. She could see Evander from her position. He was tucked behind the bell tower. Either the dragon couldn’t figure out where he was or it was toying with him.
It was exactly as she remembered it in her nightmares. The matt, black shape writhing with the fluidity of a serpent had wormed its way into her dreams far too often, its tongue hissing out between its jagged teeth, its eyes blazing red with its pupils no more than black streaks across them. It pumped its wings, sending the flames leaping towards the front of the chateau as it hovered over the courtyard and it roared, its entire body shuddering like it was in pain. Everyone held their breath. Was this is? Had it reached its end?
Abruptly it flexed, its wings stretching as wide as they could, the holes in them closing over as if they had never been. It gave a dark, soul squeezing chuckle, tasting the horror of the little people on the ground who had thought they were close to defeating it yet had no idea the depths it was drawing upon.
De St Croix stood next to Philip, sword in hand that dripped with the dragon’s black blood. Philip’s head was gashed so that one eye was almost fused shut with blood. Nearby Abigail nursed Krista in her arms. They had been the first to escape the study when the dragon attacked and had immediately made their way outside and flung themselves upon it, fearlessly attacking, driving their daggers home and deep. Marjellan’s eyes were wild and he held his axe, ready to swing at a moment’s notice, his solid build giving him stability against the wild winds.
Jack was there and as was Frederik, ankle deep in ash. Shankara and several of his soldiers stood with their curved swords held still before them, their blades slick and their once colourful silk clothing stained and ruined.
“Mon deu.” De St Coix gasped as they watched the beast heal itself, turning its shredded wings into solid forms once again.
“Thank God the women and children are safe.” Frederik said, imagining them far from this desperate scene. The clouds rippled and the dark form of the dragon shifted across their swirling expanse.
Sir Philip swallowed. “Let’s keep it that way.” He said, scooping up what arrows he could and slinging them at the beast as fast as he could. This time there was no lull in their onslaught. They could not assume that there was an end to the creature’s power. They could only hope there was one and keep going until they found it.
The dragon roared and turned its hate filled gaze onto them.
YOU WANT MY ATTENTION? It mocked them and landed hard on the grounds of the chateau, shattering tiles, turning statues to dust and bringing down sleeted ash upon them. BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR!
Now on their level the dwindling forces of the charged the strangely flat but entirely deadly beast. Marjellan roared like a bear, throwing himself at the tail, hacking hard at the flesh, sending squirts of sizzling black tar out. His rage was ignited in full and his senses were heightened to the extreme...but even that didn’t help him when the dragon suddenly twisted and a wing lunged towards him. The hard, blunt edge struck him and everyone else who was in the charge, back against the walls of the chateau.
Wheezing and broken the men looked up and saw the dragon bearing down on them, its scorpion tail twitching, aiming at Marjellan.
The dwarf warrior was too tired, too beaten to move. He could only watch as the tail descended, which would turn his body to ash if the blow itself didn’t kill him outright.
Abruptly a thick axe flew into view, its diamond tipped blade ripping through the flat expanse of tail, severing the piercing tip so that it landed in the slush, hissing violently. The dragon screamed in agony, black blood spurting from its tail as it twisted and writhed.
And standing over the fallen body of Marjellan, to his utmost astonishment, was his wife.
“Snow?”
She looked down at him, one of his axes in her hands, her hair in a loose braid back from her face and her eyes blazing with light.
“Hello my love.”
Marjellan stammered uselessly, the rest of the men staring at her, shocked and dumbfounded.
“What are you doing ‘ere” The Count demanded in place of all their silences.
“We came to help.”
“We?”
“Oui.”
Out into the slush of the melting snow, the ankle high ash and the hot wind in the night, stepped the princesses. Xanthe had commandeered Frederik’s throwing axes while Maria brandished a rapier with a jewel encrusted hilt. Freya had the blades she used to cut flesh and bone in her hands and she always kept them exceptionally sharp. The jinni had equipped them in the blink of an eye with leather corsets, vambraces and knee high boots.
“You were supposed to be safe!” Philip bellowed. “Why did Niccolo let you come back?”
“Have you ever tried arguing with a princess?” Niccolo demanded, appearing beside them, sword in hand as his tutors had taught him. “Are we killing this thing or shall I pour us some brandy and light a few cigars?”
De St Croix got to his feet as did the rest of the men beside him. They joined the line of princesses and looked up at the dragon that had managed to heal itself and flew in circles above their heads, sparks and cinders falling like tiny hot stars on their heads.
“We are killing this thing.”
Marjellan looked at Snow White, aghast. “How do you know how to wield an axe?”
“You do not think I could be married to you all these years and not pick up a few pointers?” Snow White laughed.
The dragon heard the mirth, despising it as it defied its intentions. He growled so deep the centre of the earth shook in fear but the line of human warriors did not baulk.
“On my mark...” Snow White raised her axe. “Now!”
The dragon howled and snarled as its hide was pierced with all manner of sharp weapons. It snapped its head and writhed in the sky, smashing trees like kindling in its rage. On the roof and without a bow Jé couldn’t attack as it kept its distance from the chateau so she sprinted towards Evander, closing the gap as fast as she could.
“Evander!” She cried but her voice drowned out by the flames. “Evander!”
Evander pressed his back to the tower, his last arrow in his hand. If this failed him he was going to take up his sword, leapt off the chateau and drive it deep into whatever that demonic beast called a heart. He’d like to see it recover from such a mortal wound. He flinched as he thought he heard someone or something say his name. The hairs on the back of his neck, those that hadn’t succumbed to fire and fury, stood on end as he heard a voice that spoke straight to his soul.
I SMELL YOU SHE-ELF! I SMELT YOU FROM BEYOND THE LAND INTO WHICH YOU DAMNED ME! MY HATE OF YOU HAS REAWAKENED MY LIFE AND WITH THE LAST DROPS OF MY FURY I WILL UNLEASH A HELL ON EARTH, THE LIKES OF WHICH YOU WILL WEEP OVER FOR A THOUSAND YEARS!
Evander’s breath was sucked right out of his body and his heart turned to ice as his eyes caught sight of a figure running through the flames and the smoke.
“No.” He twisted and looked to see the dragon’s eye rivet upon her, stopping her in her tracks, scant yards from his hiding place. She was frozen to the rooftop as the dragon loomed before her, its mouth opened wide, the tell tale white hot glow forming in its belly of its most violent attack yet.
“Jé!” Evander cried, stepping out with his arrow in the bow, sighting down its shaft. “Run!”
The dragon snapped its head to glare at him, its mouth open wide. Evander didn’t hesitate as he loosed the arrow so that it sank deep into the dragon’s mouth and, hopefully, its brain. It jerked to a halt, gurgling on the arrow, its eyes opened wide in shock as though it was choking. Evander held his breath, hoping he’d finally hit his target.
I DO NOT THINK SO!
The dragon drew back a breath, but instead of releasing a fireball, it shot the arrow out of its mouth at an unbelievable speed so that, before Evander could blink, it pierced his chest right near his heart and the force threw him backwards to slam against the remains of the bell tower, his body crumpling like parchment.
“Evander!” Jé screamed, terror forcing her legs to cover the last few precious feet to Evander’s side. She scooped her arms around him and drew him up, horrified to see his shirt and coat soaking through with blood. “No. No! No, no, no, no, no!” She grasped his face and patted his cheeks. “Look at me! Evander! Please!”
His eyes fluttered open and he coughed, splattering blood onto his face and hers, the red staining his teeth. “Jé…” He shuddered.
“Evander…” Jé’s logical mind knew there was no hope. Not even the magic pills from the future could mend such a deadly would. He was going to die, on that rooftop, in her arms and nothing, no matter what she did, could stop it. Her passionate mind swore she wouldn’t give up and that he could make it through this with little more than a scar to show for his brush with death. The battle and dragon was forgotten. She was surrounded by flames on all that remained of the chateau roof, the hot wind whipping her hair around her face as she pressed her forehead to his and prayed for a miracle.
YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME. YOU CAN ONLY JOIN WITH ME.
Giant, black claws clamped down on the roof, sending tiles scattering as it curled its malevolent body around their position.
JOIN WITH ME…OR FACE YOUR DOOM.
“I will never make such a foolish choice again!” Jé retorted, anger and sorrow tearing her apart.
There was an insidious pause and she could almost feel its breath on her neck.
I WAS NOT SPEAKING WITH YOU…
Jé looked down at Evander whose eyes opened. He saw the dragon looming above him, its tongue licking its teeth.
JOIN WITH ME EVANDER AND YOU WILL LIVE.
Evander looked at Jé, her face coming back into focus as he blinked, the world around her blurring. “And Jé would go free?”
Jé’s heart stopped. “No…”
WHATEVER YOU WISH WILL BE DONE. MY POWER I GIVE TO YOU TO DO AS YOU WILL.
“You cannot trust it!” Jé cried as Evander forced himself upright with a cry of pain. “It is evil!”
I WILL BE AT YOUR MERCY AND YOU WILL BE ABLE TO STOP MY ATTACK AND LET YOUR FRIENDS…YOUR LOVED ONE…GO FREE.
Evander looked at Jé and touched her face. “Jé...I’m sorry.” He lurched and flung his sword as hard as could, the blade sinking deep into the one eye he could see. “Go to hell!” He yelled, blood spitting out of his mouth. It screeched in agony, tearing at its own face as it pulled the sword out, throwing it down onto the roof with a clatter, the broken blade steaming as though it had been driven into lava. The dragon’s tail and wings thrashed about wildly, smashing through the tower and throwing the bronze bell to the ground.
Evander shuddered and fell back, Jé clinging to his shirt.
“No. Evander…no…”
“I love you… Jé…” He whispered, his eyes closing.
“Noooooooooo!”
Everyone, no matter the windy, howling, dragon roaring inferno, heard her heartbroken scream from the rooftop. They all looked up, gathering in the courtyard or on the wide balcony, gazing up at the roof, the end imminent. Nothing could save them now. Their arrows were spent and their arms were not long enough to attack it as it hovered at the back of the chateau once more, its uninjured amber eye glaring at Jé as she huddled over the fallen form of her beloved.
YOU COULD NEVER DEFEAT ME. I AM DARKNESS. I AM DEATH. I AM ETERNAL AND I AM GOING TO RID THIS WORLD OF LOVE ONCE AND FOR ALL!
Jé felt her face curl up into an animalistic snarl at its endless taunting. She caught sight of the broken sword and crawled, painfully, across the roof to clasp at it. Her ribs were screaming at her but she wouldn’t listen. She wasn’t going to give up.
The dragon laughed, a truly nightmarish sound. YOU REALLY THINK A BROKEN BLADE AND YOUR DISGUSTING, HALF CAST BODY COULD POSSIBLY DO ME HARM?
She picked up the sword and glared at it, limping towards the edge of the chateau’s roof, her eyes fixed on it.
YOU COULD HAVE HAD UNLIMITED POWER AND LIFE FOREVER MORE AND YET YOU’RE GOING TO GIVE IT ALL UP FOR HIM!
“For my friends in this chateau.” She said quietly. “For all the knights I slew. For Luka who won me over. For Evander who never gave up. For Meredith and for Jé Kinah and even for my father!” Her voice raised in pitch and volume as she moved forward, standing at the very tip of the chateau. “I swear I will never stopping fighting you for all of them!” She raised the sword above her head. “So help me God!”
The dragon roared, its mouth opening wider than it had ever done before, the fire in its belly foaming and surging out of control until it began to take a deep…long…breath…
Jé’s hair streamed past her face, feeling the inhale try to pull her off the roof but she held firm, the sword held high in a last, futile, foolish attempt to end what had begun…
…then suddenly the dragon screamed and ripped its head away from her, an arrow made of pure light piercing its body. It spun around in the sky and screamed again as more arrows struck it, every single one like a shaft of glorious, pure light. The demonic beast surged and howled.
THE SAINTS!
The sky split apart almost exactly like the jinni had done in the air of the cell but this split was on a truly phenomenal scale, stretching across horizon, rippling with power and bursts of lightning. Rather than there being a desperate magical creature attempting to do something almost beyond its capabilities, this tear was powerful and showed no signs of closing before a legion of warriors on the backs of winged horses stormed through. Every nation was represented in their ranks, their bodies clad in white and silver armour. They unleashed countless arrows of light from polished silver bows, every single arrow attached to a tiny hairs breadth cords which the warriors held above their heads as two captains on horseback powered past their lines, taking the cords up in their hands and drawing them together, pinning the dragon down.
One of these riders was a man who was tall and broad with a head of dark hair, sharp eyes and a chiselled jaw. He wore no armour like the other warriors but there was something fearsome and eternal in his face, as though he had no need of it. The other rider was a woman with long, flowing dark brown hair with a circuit of gold around her head and a victorious, overjoyed look in her eyes. She wore a white gown that didn’t impede her riding one bit as she and the man swapped sides, continuing to weave the fine cords together into two, braided thick cords. They braced themselves on the backs of their horses and pulled, the dragon screeching as its wings and tail were strapped to its body.
Everyone on the ground had flinched away from the light that had torn open the clouds and scattered the smoke and ash within seconds. The flames were sucked up into the air and disappeared, unable to fight the power of the army above. Krista peered up at this remarkable display.
“Moeder…” She grabbed Abigail and pointed up. “Moeder!” The two werewolf warriors leapt to their feet and looked up at the beautiful woman riding at the head of the angelic warriors.
“Is that,” De St Croix blinked, “Jerome…”
The dragon was a writhing, howling tangled mess and it screamed vile, blasphemous curses at the warriors that had pierced its black hide so completely that there seemed to be more light than shadow.
And then, out of the opening in the sky, walked a single man. He wore silver armour that shone with the brightness of the sun and with every step he took, the air trembled and rippled like water, power swirling in his wake. The mountains quaked at his presence and the trees trembled, their snow laden branches dropping their loads and reached up to the sky. He walked up to the dragon whose one good eye glared at him with vilest hate imaginable…and a great deal of fear.
YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME! I WILL LIVE FOREVER!
The man looked at it, wind swirling around him as though he commanded his own cyclone. Then he took a step towards the dragon. It howled and jerked back but the other two warriors held it in place. He took another step and another and another until he was right before its jagged teeth and snarling jaw. The dragon roared and released what remained of its fire. Lava spewed out of its crooked jaw, consuming the man in searing, blinding, red hot death.
The dragon bellowed and jerked its head in triumph.
I AM THE LORD OF THE EARTH! THE EMPEROR OF THE FLAME!
For a moment there was silence as the earth held its breath…
…then power exploded from the molten shape of the man and threw everyone who was standing, to the ground. The trees bent backwards from him, groaning at the force and snow fell from the mountain peaks, unable to cling to their rocky abode any longer. Flames licked his form all over but he was not on fire. Instead, the fire was arrested by him, captivated by the enormity of his power, his body made out of pure light. The demonic beast shuddered and shivered, its matt black hide having lightened to grey.
1. IT IS NOT POSSIBLE! I AM THE LORD! I AM THE EMPEROR! I AM FOREVER…
The man leaned towards the dragon and spoke, his voice like the sound of a thousand rushing waters.
“Be gone…”
Shafts of light streaked out of his mouth, obliterating the last of the dragon’s form until there was nothing left. Not a shadow, not a glimmer…nothing.
Jé was left breathless on the roof of the chateau. Around her the flames were gone. The ash was gone. The smoke was gone. The clouds had dispersed and the sky above could no longer be called black. It was a deep shadow of blue becoming lighter by the second and the snow that lay across the ground was white and glistening as the earth took a deep breath, waiting for dawn.
She stared at the man as a fresh breeze stroked her curls. His back was still to her and he was beginning to walk away as the other two riders surged around the legion of warriors, heading towards the tear in the heavens.
“Wait…” She squeaked, her voice almost gone. She swallowed and nearly shrieked in her desperation to be heard. “Wait! Please wait!” She looked back at Evander’s still form. “You can heal him! I know you can! Please! I beg of you! I will give you whatever you want! Just heal him!”
She threw herself down onto her knees, unable to reach this powerful man. She could only use her voice to draw him back. “Please…please…I beg you. Anything…anything I can give I will give. I love him. Please!” She rocked on her knees, her eyes closed as she willed him to turn and to heal Evander. “Please…please…please…”
A hand touched her face, cupping her cheek and lifting her chin. Awesome fear rippled through her and she was suddenly afraid to open her eyes, terrified of what she might see.
“Princess…you only have to ask.” She gasped. She knew that voice. It was her conscience, her guide…her salvation. Tears immediately filled her eyes and she opened them to look upon a face she thought she would never see again, a face that had never looked at her in judgment or animosity or unkindness. It had been an ordinary face, one she had dismissed at first but now, in this glorious, heavenly light, it radiated like the sun. “You only ever had to ask.”
Power surged out of him, causing her to step back, his hand drawing away from her face. He smiled and the tenderness in his eyes nearly broke her down. He moved back and Jé, insensible of her surroundings or of anything beyond the man before her, went to step off the roof to follow him anywhere he went.
A hand grasped hers and spun her back into his broad chest. She looked up in shock, Evander standing over her, his blue eyes fixed on her face.
“Evan…Evander!” She tore open his shirt and pressed her fingertips against his skin where the arrow had run through. “Nothing. There is nothing here…” It was completely untouched and unscarred. Even the mark of the tiger bite had been healed. “You are alright…you are alive!” She clung on to him tightly. “You are alive!”
“I am alive…” He said as if he could hardly believe it himself. “Is that…”
Jé turned and saw the leader of the angelic host moving away. She felt a little pang in her heart that he was going where she could not. As though he heard the question in her heart he turned to her and smiled, his blue eyes as bright at the sky.
“I will see you again one day, Jé.” He said and his words were like a caress against her skin, a lover’s whisper, a promise of eternal life for her soul. “For now…look after each other.”
“We will.” Evander vowed.
Jé felt a shuddering sigh leave her body and she nodded. “Goodbye…Luka…”
The angelic host rode towards the tear in the sky, Maja on horseback looking down at Abigail and Krista with a smile on her beautiful face. She nodded at them and then continued into the tear in the heavens alongside Jerome. Luka walked up to the tear, stepped through and became one with the light. The tear gently sealed itself except for one, round circle that was embedded against the royal blue sky. The sun rose as it always did, insensible of the drama that had unfolded. It knew nothing of night. It only new of beginnings and hope, of mercies new and darkness gone.
Its golden fingertips stroked the chateau and the man and woman who stood there, standing precariously on the edge of the roof, washing down to encompass everyone who stood on the balcony.
Evander looked at Jé and smiled. “So…”
“So,” she felt herself blushing and gave a shy laugh, “what do we do now?”
“What I have wanted to do since the first day I met you.”
He slid his fingers along the line of her jaw, feeling her pulse quicken. Her silky soft curls stroked his skin as he cupped her face, mesmerized by her pale green eyes, her flushed cheeks, her rose coloured lips and he leaned towards her…
“…kissed her yet? I can’t see!”
“I do not know. I will ask. Ahem…Prince Evander!”
Evander closed his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. “Yes!”
“Marjellan would like to know if you 'ave kissed Jé yet!”
Jé giggled and pressed her face into his chest. Evander shook his head. “No…not yet…”
“Hurry up man,” Sir Philip ordered, “while we’re still young! Well…some of us…”
“And before something else bad happens!” Marjellan added sharply.
Evander shook his head and gazed at Jé. She licked her lips and smiled at him. He went to lean down then paused. “I cannot do this with fifty pairs of eyes watching me!”
“We aren’t going anywhere until we know it’s over!” Niccolo retorted.
“How can he be expected to with you all watching?” Maria berated her husband, her voice carrying sharp sensibility into the air.
“Thank you Maria!” Evander huffed. “Turn around!”
“What?”
“All of you turn around and face the other way or so help me…”
“You heard the man. Turn around…”
“He got to watch when I kissed you Snow...”
“Stop being grumpy.”
“That joke is getting very old.”
Evander could hear their grumblings from his perch on the roof. “Is it done Maria?”
“No one is watching you. Go on.”
He swallowed and looked at Jé again. “Right. So…” He leaned close, feeling her breath on his skin, her lips unbelievably close…and paused…waiting for another interruption. When it didn’t come he dipped his head just as Jé went on tip toe and their teeth clunked together. Laughing with embarrassment they half turned from each other, Evander rubbing the back of his neck, feeling like a naive adolescent.
“I doubt that will go down in the annuls of history as the greatest kiss of all time.” He chuckled, his cheeks red.
Jé bit her bottom lip and smiled coyly. “Well…we just need to practice, that is all.”
“Oh. I agree,” Evander leaned in closer and closer, “lots and lots of practice.”
Down on the balcony Marjellan jiggled and stomped and huffed.
“Damn it the suspense is killing me.” He muttered.
“Anyone dare peek?”
De St Croix chuckled when he noticed that no one volunteered. He reached inside his coat and drew out a snuff box with a mirror inside the lid. He subtly aimed the mirror in the direction of the rooftop where he could see Evander and Jé in a long awaited, greatly anticipated, lover’s embrace.
“Well,” Frederik demanded, “did they kiss?”
De St Croix nodded. “They are…at this very moment.” He closed the snuff box and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Everyone, that is, except Marjellan who still wanted to make sure that they all understood exactly what it meant.
“So that’s it?” He demanded. “At last it’s over?”
“Oh no. It isn’t over.” De St Croix smiled. “It’s after…
…Happily Ever After.”