The Princess
A haze of feverish fog clouded my mind. My mouth tasted like sandpaper. I could see nothing but vague, blurry shapes around me. Gold lights. Cream-colored walls. A door slammed shut in the distance, the sound echoing against the vast walls.
Panic spurred me forward, and I collided with a wall.
I groaned, and black spots appeared in my vision.
Blinking blearily, I tried to clear my head.
I leaned against the wall I’d run into, the cool marble strangely soothing to my flushed and overheated skin.
Like a soothing balm to the sweltering heat I couldn’t escape.
My breathing was wet and ragged. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs. I allowed myself to stand there, propped up by the wall while I tried to breathe.
I didn’t know where I was or how I’d gotten here. I had no idea where Theron was, either. I tried to speak his name, but only a hoarse gurgle came out. Shivering bones, my head wouldn’t stop spinning.
I lifted one of my arms, squinting through the murky delirium of my fever. I could vaguely make out the blurry green splotches of the poison that had completely taken over my arm. When I lifted the other, my heart jolted.
It, too, was covered in green spots.
A sick feeling rose up my throat. I was dying. This was it.
Then… how had I made it here? And where was here?
I pushed up from the wall, straining with every ounce of strength I possessed. My limbs shook, making me feel frailer than an old crone. I took several shallow breaths, trying to remain upright without falling.
“Theron,” I rasped, but my voice was nothing more than a wisp in the air.
I needed a sparkwood apple.
I needed time.
I needed a cure.
No… I just needed Theron. He was all I needed.
“Theron,” I tried again, louder this time. The sound of my voice resonating in my chest sent a modicum of clarity to my senses. Shapes came into view, and I caught a glimpse of a sparkling gold chandelier as my vision adjusted.
The sight made my breath catch in my throat.
I was in the grand hall. Gleaming marble walls and pillars surrounded me.
An ornate crimson rug lined the floor. Everything was so familiar, and yet it felt like a shadow of another life.
A life that was no longer mine. A flood of memories assaulted me, rushing through my mind like the rapids of a river.
My father, a warm, gentle smile on his face. Calista, with her arm in his, her cold smile telling me what my father was too blind to see: she was cruel and unkind. Even from the first moment I saw her, I knew she would never love me as her own daughter. I wasn’t even sure if she loved my father.
And yet, he’d been enamored with her. Completely besotted. When I’d expressed my concerns, he’d tucked me into a tight embrace and kissed my head, murmuring reassurances that with time, Calista would come to love me as he did.
And then he had died. Poisoned by the wife he adored so much.
Footsteps echoed nearby, jolting me from my thoughts. I stumbled forward, ducking behind a pillar. My pulse raced as the footsteps drew nearer. They were heavy and purposeful. Certainly not the light footsteps of a maid or a servant.
I peered carefully around the pillar, my vision still not as crisp as it normally was. My brow furrowed as I made out a vaguely familiar bulky figure. I sighed with relief.
It was Theron.
“What are you doing?” I hissed at him.
He turned, his dark eyes sharpening as he looked me over. “Are you hurt?” He strode toward me and grasped my shoulders, looking me over as if to assess for injuries.
I clutched him in a tight embrace, my face crumpling in part despair, part gratitude. All I’d wanted was him. I was dying, but he was here. That was all that mattered.
He grunted in surprise, his arms circling around me. “What’s this for?” he murmured. Then, he withdrew slightly, a frown on his face. He pressed a hand to my forehead. “You’re burning up.”
“I—I can’t fight it anymore, Theron,” I said weakly, my hands trembling as I clung to him. “I’m sorry. I’m just… glad you’re here with me now.”
“It’s all right, Eira. I have something that might help.” He dug through his satchel until he withdrew a familiar shiny red apple.
I choked on a laugh, covering my mouth to stifle the sound. “A sparkwood apple? How the hell did you find one?”
He grinned and handed the apple to me. “I have my ways. I figured you’d be hungry for one right about now.”
The sight of that beautiful red apple brought tears to my eyes. Time. This bought me more time. Time to defeat Calista. Time to help my rebel friends.
Time to be with Theron.
Without hesitating, I swiped the apple from Theron’s grasp and bit into it. A strange, satisfied smile spread on his face. It wasn’t the gentle, affectionate smile I’d been expecting. No, this expression was… triumphant.
My chewing slowed as I narrowed my eyes at him. “What…”
“How could I forget the filthy little rodent you were, always climbing those trees to snack on apples?” Theron sneered, his face twisting until he became something unrecognizable. “Like the wild creature you are.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.
My tongue was completely numb. Aching shivers wracked my body, and I slumped against the wall, suddenly dizzy again.
The usual clarity I’d associated with sparkwood apples was gone.
Instead, the fever only intensified, making me feel hot and cold all at once.
“And when I cut them down because they interfered with my magic, you cried,” Theron spat, his face continuing to shift. His tan skin paled until it was bone-white. His eyes brightened to a light brown.
“You—You—” My tongue was so heavy. Why couldn’t I speak?
My eyes fell to the apple in my hand. It was oozing a bright green liquid. With a yelp, I dropped it, but it was too late. The damage had been done.
When I looked at Theron again, it wasn’t Theron at all.
It was Calista, still wearing that triumphant smile.
“I only had a few drops of your blood,” she continued, her voice oozing with glee.
“I had to save it for the perfect moment. Your human blood weakens my control over you, unfortunately. My powers are most effective with full-blooded fae. But once you were in Tolston, I could sense you. And I could sense this.”
She lifted the hand mirror. She must have pulled it from my bag. I tried to reach for it, but my arms wouldn’t move.
“I commanded you to bring me the mirror, and this was as far as you got before the fever claimed you.” She clicked her tongue as if chiding me.
“Pathetic. My poison from years ago must have been stronger than I thought. I almost didn’t need to fill you with more of it. But I didn’t want to take any chances.”
Fire consumed my veins as the poison destroyed my body from the inside out. I had been fighting one dose of her poison already—and I’d been losing.
She had now filled me with another dose. It was over.
“Goodbye, Snow Princess,” said Calista.
She had won. She had poisoned me—again.
And this time, there was no escape. I couldn’t turn invisible and flee like before; I was far too weak.
I’m sorry, Father, I thought in despair. I failed you.
The fire was spreading much more quickly now. Perhaps it was the poison already lingering in my blood. Or perhaps Calista had somehow given me a stronger dose of it.
But I only had moments left. My consciousness was fading fast.
Scream, I told myself. You have to scream. Now!
I drew in a long breath, but darkness pressed in on me, threatening to consume me.
Scream, Eira!
The voice in my head sounded like Theron. If he were here with me, he would shout at me to hold on. To withstand the poison coursing through my veins.
Scream!
I opened my mouth wide and unleashed a piercing shriek that bounced off the walls, resonating in the castle like a shrill siren.
Calista smacked me across the face, silencing me. The pain of her strike sent me over the edge, and I blacked out.