Sleeping Beauty (Faerie Tale Collection) (7 page)

“Does it hurt you as well?”

“Yes.”

“What do you feel? Can you describe it?”

“I am not certain. I t would seem as though a large stick has lodged itself in my stomach and is now twisting and stirring it about.”

Darién pulled back and captured her face with his hands, his eyes intensely searching hers. “Is it causing you pain right this moment?”

“Yes.”

He felt so very helpless and frustrated. “What can I do to ease your suffering?”

“You already are. Just this—as much as I am positive I will regret staying here with you upon the floor once my wits return—I know of no one who would have done this for me. No one who would have cared as you do. This helps more than you will ever know.”

“I feel I was born to help you somehow, in some way.” No one but him would release the spell that was holding her captive—he could not bear the thought of some other prince doing what he was destined to accomplish. If only he could understand just what was happening to her.

Aleyna looked up. “But you do not even know who I am. Why would you help a stranger? Someone you have only just met?”

He searched her features trying to explain what he was feeling, trying to give voice to the pounding of his heart. There was significance in this moment, more than he could fully understand, but he knew—deep down he knew—she was someone he had known forever. Someone he had promised to protect and care for long before this earth life. He was only just now remembering, each moment—each fraction of a second—determined a new memory of her he had forgotten. Taking a deep breath he attempted to explain. “Have you ever met someone and recognized that you have always known them? They were more familiar to you than any person you have ever met before?”

He felt it too! Her blood soared, her breathing increased—and so did the screams, louder than before. “Darién!” She winced, her head dropping to his legs, her hands holding her ears—trying desperately to muffle the sounds that were within her. Then the smells came. Horrid, putrid smells of burning, ashes, blood…. She began to sob—racking sobs shattered through her whole body—she felt as though she would die. Her sobs became wails of their own as she began to terrifyingly relive every cruel moment of her past—a past she had no idea she was reliving. People she did not know brutally murdered in front of her. Men and women torn limb from limb, their screeching howls echoing through the castle in a vibrant sea of angry, muted colors. Terror, rage, fear, fire, smoke…it was all there. All of it. And she could not break free.

“Aleyna!” he shouted again, but could not be heard over her besieged sobs. He clutched her shoulders, trying to pull her up and away from the anguished abyss she was slipping into, her own tortured mind. “What do I do?” he yelled up at the cobwebbed ceiling, his hollow shouts reverberating back at him. “What do I do?! Michael! Humphrey! George! Someone, help me save her!”

He heard the pounding of hooves before he saw the large white beast screech to a halt and come into the dining room. “Drop her! Let go of her now!” the unicorn snapped.

Instantly Darién reached for the sword that was not there. “No! I will not leave her to be destroyed. Who are you? I will kill you if I must, do not doubt this!”

Ezralon snorted, his breathing coming in heaving gasps. The run had taken its toll on him now that he had finally stopped. “I—am not your en-enemy. Do not cr-cross me, boy, but do as I say and drop her.”

“Why should I listen to you?” Darién hedged praying this creature had truly come to help her.

“You are the one causing her to remember. It is because of you she is in so much pain. Release her. Walk out of this room and she will become better.”

“But how? Why is it me? I do not understand. And how can I trust you?”

Aleyna writhed and screeched in an agony he never thought possible to come from human lips before. Darién set her down and stood up quickly, taking a few steps back. They both watched as she transformed back into the muted lines and transparent essence of a spirit, while she sobbed uncontrollably.

“She needs me. I cannot do this.” Darién started to walk forward but the horn on the unicorn shone.

“Do not cross me right now, boy. You will have her. I promise you, you will. You are correct, she does need you. But right now she must rest and ease her mind or all will be lost.”

“I do not understand. What is happening?”

“I am not fully clear myself, but if she has gotten to this state, we must have you walk away and leave her be. You are triggering memories for her and she will be lost if she is not ready for them. Go to your room; relieve your friends’ minds who are even now searching the place for you. And I will help her, all will be as it should be by supper time.”

“But I—”

“Go, my son. She will be fine, I promise.” Ezralon shook out his mane as he stood at his whole height. “I have not watched over her daily these past thirty years, protecting her, to see my dear Aleyna die because of the foolishness of the man who was meant to save her. She cannot live without you. She has been waiting for you—you will have your chance, boy, just let me have mine first.”

CHAPTER TEN

DARIÉN RAN INTO THE hall, not wanting the others to see her in misery, not when she had help now. He could hear their shouts as they called for him. It really was an exceptionally large castle—at least twice the size of his or Michael’s homes.

“I am in here,” he called out once he made it to the grand hall. “At the entrance of the castle—the room with the sword George loved.”

By the time Michael and Humphrey had made their way to him, George was just coming in from taking care of the horses outside—his arms heavy with their supplies.

“What is it?” asked Michael, as he and Humphrey rushed to the prince. “You were so distraught, but I could not make out your words.” He scanned his arms and legs. “You are not injured?”

“No, it was nothing. I, uh—the queen startled me for a moment, but all is well.”

Humphrey smirked and shook his head. “One of these days you are going to have to get over your aversion of her.”

“What is this about?” George asked as he tossed the collected saddlebags on the ground, near the wall, causing a small plume of dust to swirl around their feet.

Humphrey continued, “Moreover, I believe you
do
like her, if that little display earlier was anything to go by. You were positively dumbstruck.”

“Well, would you not be, if you were holding her hands and watched her turn from phantom to a real flesh and blood beauty before your eyes?” George rubbed his hand through his hair; a slash of dirt ran the whole length of his forearm.

Michael grinned. “We all will require details eventually, but for now—everything is fine?” His smile dimmed as his gaze searched the prince’s.

“Yes.” Darién nodded at all three of them. “Everything is fine.”

George rolled his eyes and Humphrey began to laugh.

“What?” Darién asked as Michael began to walk away. “What have I said?”

Humphrey laughed harder.

George threw a perspiring arm over the prince’s shoulders. “You know, there is something none of us have ever told you before.”

Michael whipped around. “Don’t you dare tell him now, either.”

“Tell me what?”

Humphrey sputtered out around his laughter, “No. You can-not t-tell him. It would ruin everything.”

“What is it?” Darién’s eyes narrowed as he shrugged out of George’s arm.

George smiled smugly and mocked in a sing-songy voice, “Oh, just a little something about you that you do not realize.”

“Something you all know and now ridicule me with?”

“Yes,” said Michael. “But there is no reason to lose your countenance over it. It is nothing, a mere trifling personality trait of yours.”

“Something you find highly comical?” He glared at Humphrey who was still chuckling.

“Well, it is rather humorous.” George grinned.

“Makes my day every time you do it!” Humphrey burst into more hilarity.

The prince raised an eyebrow. “Ha-ha. Very amusing.”

“The point is,” interrupted the king, “we know you are not being wholly truthful to us and I, personally, would like to understand what is going on and why you shouted down the rafters earlier.” His gaze bore into the prince and he stated quite frankly, “If you have any reason to bellow like that, I may not be your flesh-and-blood brother, but you are the closest thing to family I have. I will not allow you to panic in such a way and not be the first man to your aid. So I ask you again, in all seriousness, Darién, tell me what has happened to you and your queen and I will destroy whatever brought that fright from your lips—because I am not like these other two, I do not believe she frightened you—I am your ally, brother. Tell me what plagues and haunts your mind even now and we will all stand with you, or die defending you both.”

Darién stumbled backward a few paces, until he thumped into a wall. Relief, sorrow, frustration, denial—they all coursed their way through him in a mad attempt to reconcile his mind to the great responsibility he would have to face, now that he had finally found a being worth living for.

Never had Michael spoken to him in such way—yes, true they had always felt this about each other—they were brothers, as close as two friends could get—but to hear it. To feel it. To know he was not alone in this, and did not have to be. To allow the emotions of the great day crash into him at once. His fear, her pain. It was all too much. He covered his face with his hands, blocking out all of the twisted agony he bore witness to earlier, he slid down the wall and landed—knees buckled—upon the floor.

“Darién, what is it?” Michael knelt beside him.

Great heavens, he was being as dramatic as a performer upon a stage. “Nothing.” He shook his head and let out a deep breath. “Everything.”

“Tell me.”

He ran his hands over his face. “She is—this enchantment is not a farce. It is as real as you and I are breathing right now. She is in so much pain—I have never seen a soul so tortured. And she is in pain, she is hurting—because…because of me.”

“What have you done?”

“Nothing. Everything. Loved her. Cared for her. Helped her.” He yanked his fingers through his hair and shouted as a desperate man would, “I do not know!”

Humphrey and George walked toward them slowly, but kept back at his outburst.

The king, ever calm, responded, “We will win. You will tell us all you know, all that has happened, and we will win.”

Darién shook his head. “You do not understand. It is her mind—her memories are plaguing her. I do not trust they will ever stop. Once she realizes what they are—what then? Then the nightmares come? The cruel reality of fate settles in her bones as she apprehends she is all that is left of this kingdom. That everyone she has loved and cared for has truly been murdered before her eyes. She will begin to recognize those faces that haunt her mind. And then she will never be whole again. How could she? How could she live with such guilt? Such torment? She will always hate herself for being saved and not able to do a thing about it.”

George whistled softly and the king himself sat back on his rear end with a thud.

“What do we do then?” Humphrey asked quietly. “Do we leave her as she is?”

“I fear it is too late for that,” Michael whispered. “It has already begun.”

***

Ezralon pushed back the decrepit chairs surrounding the shuddering, whimpering girl and lay down next to her. His horn shone brightly before carefully touching her on the shoulder facing him. Instantly, it soothed and calmed her. As her breathing settled into something less frantic, he began to read what she had witnessed—her memories from before.

His great eyes winced in pain—his heart lurched as he observed the incredible horror she had seen. He had forgotten much of this, but to have it newly presented him again—so fresh, so raw, so gruesome—even he began to shudder.

After a few moments, Ezralon had to pull away, the sight was too unbearable and he was beginning to lose his brilliance. He could not forcefully watch all that she had been subject to the last several minutes with the prince.

How much more of this would resurface? He did not know. Even he was unaware of how much she truly saw.

No being should ever have to face such cruelty and live to remember it. A shiver coursed through him. Had he done wrong by gifting her that enchantment all those years ago, when she was just a wee infant?

Who else could save them though? They had known, they had all discussed this in the grand council years before she was born, it was foretold she would be the one that possessed the power and strength to defeat Villeria. With the love and protection of her chosen prince, they would battle the great evil together and release the world from her force.

Aleyna was willing then, in that council, to gladly do all she was assigned. She was fearless, an unmatched strategist with the largest heart and most happy nature of any in the council, and more than worthy to take on Villeria then.

And Darién, her chosen companion, was the perfect foil—strong, valiant, loyal, dependable, cautious, caring, and intelligent.

They knew—they knew together they could defeat her. They, with the full high court, had come up with this plan to be born into this family and save the kingdom. She knew she would have to sleep and allow Villeria to grow lax several years, to wait for the opportunity to let Darién come and release her from the enchantment, and learn and grow together without the witch’s knowledge, so they could catch her off guard and destroy her in her own home.

The only downfall was they would forget everything once they were born and would have to remember it all over again. So the council decreed once they were reunited Darién and Aleyna would begin to learn what they once knew.

It was a perfect plan to finally out-master Villeria and save them all.

Ezralon let out a muffled grunt. At what cost though? It was one thing to have a world free from such evil, but quite another when one took into balance the toll it would take upon the young lives destined to such monstrosity.