"Come back with my letter from Dominic! Don't you dare read it," Yuri squealed, chasing Rosy out of my room at high horsepower full throttle down the tower hall.
The windows had opened of their own volition, and a ferocious winter gale picked up, blowing my door slammed shut behind my wee sisters.The mourning dove's holly berries began to bleed, and the well fed bird discarded the overripe succulents onto my floor.The mourning dove fled to the peal of an elfin horn:"What was that call, just now? And that insurmountable wind like lindworm breath?" I murmured to myself, shuddering as I looked out the window:In rode a terrible train of huldre, Jotun, alfar and dokkalfar, dwarves, nixie, mara and trolls of the Dark Court from the depths of the woods. The Cunningfolk's allies in the Northern Holds of Utgardr, and Arcadia's sworn enemies.What were they doing here? How in Helheim did they get past mama's Magick barrier of the Stronghold across the Maroon Sea? Only citizens of Arcadia could grant passage through it, with a blood price no less, and not a damned one would let a huldre through!Father sent his guards to attack. The huldrefolk used a barrier of silver mist to divert the swords and arrows. Father roared, raging forward aback a white gelding, his shield clanging against his sword. Eleleth's white ghost moths wreathed him, and he was bathed in sickly, sterile light."What in Nastrond are you doing at my gates!" King Hakkon, the Lion of the South, roared in fury. "Get back, foul huldre!"Out of the thick, obscuring mist stepped my She-Beast. Queen Jarngrimr of the Sorrows.I screamed, but the scream died in my throat, and from stories below, her red eyes fixated on me. She gave a slight smile, lip curling to reveal a wolf fang."Ah, but there was an open invitation to tonight's ball, if I am not mistaken. How embarrassing for me that would be, to arrive uninvited. I am simply here for the girl Aslaugh promised to me in return for her people's salvation: her firstborn, the princess Turiel," the Beast said, smirking to reveal rows of jagged, bloody fangs. "You would not deny the Queen of the Jotun Court her fairy goddaughter, now would you, King Hakkon?"The burly king in golden armor charged towards the Beast, sword ablazing. "You speak lies. Aslaugh would never consort with the likes of you for my child's blessing. Die!" father screeched.The Beast dodged the blow without a breath. Then, suddenly, her bat wings expanded, she alighted to the misty air, and suddenly she had landed by my window.Jarngrimr drew a long, sharp claw along the glass pane. "I know what you are, witch, and I will have no other than you and the Magick you embody as my bride, last of the Isa witches, daughter of my dear friend Aslaugh," she said with a seductive, throaty voice - half growl, half song like a wolf's call. She hung from the parapet with red eyes, fangs, a muscled body and black fur striping her breasts and body like a werewolf, her bat wings hard and leathery. I smelled cloves, oranges, and musk on her as she peeled open the window."I will not go with you, you disgusting monster! It is because of you that I am draugr! Stop haunting me!" I screamed, leaping at her with my mother's whale ivory dagger I always kept on me. I enchanted it using Sunna's light to crackling flame. I stabbed Queen Jarngrimr in the gristle of her shoulder, burning her flesh with the rune Kenaz, and she laughed in twisted, unfettered delight as I pressured the blade into her meat, the dagger fire smoldering. "Get out of Arcadia, or I will make the very earth of my lands revolt against you with my godsgiven Magick."Jarngrimr's crimson eyes burned, and she snapped her fingers. One of her denizens, a male nixie, held my father by the throat, dismounting King Hakkon from his steed. "You come with me, or your precious, genocidal father dies. Now, Turiel, have I not been sweet to you in our visions? You know that I can bring pleasure as much as pain. I am the Queen of the Jotun, after all, the bergresar your mother Queen Aslaugh sought out to bless you as fairy godmother and erect the Stronghold in return - or does my name already ring a bell?"Jarngrimr. Jarngrimr. Jarngrimr. Father's sworn enemy, protector of all the worst of the huldrefolk of Utgardr, whose curse had killed my mother.My She-Beast.The Troll Queen."Then you are the Latinium Devil herself!" I screamed, plunging my burning dagger into her heart.There was no pulse, no blood to spurt - Jarngrimr's dry black veins were empty like mine. I gasped, my eyes wide open upon discovering our shared secret."You are thoroughly amusing, dear princess. It seems we have much in common," she laughed, her voice rough and low. The sound was intoxicating. I stared a moment too long into her deep maroon eyes, transfixed, entranced.She took a hold of my hand atop the blade and withdrew it, then placed it back in my hilt. "One word, and your father dies. Much better to come with me, eh, little snowflower? This kingdom is not safe for you sisters anymore. Soon, Eleleth will rise, and leave wreckage in his wake. This is no place for girls of pure Isa blood. I must protect my dear Asa's children.""But you murdered mother! You steal babies and make changelings! You lead travelers astray with will o the wisps and suck the lives out of girls and men with mara and Rhine maidens and nixies alike! You, Jarngrimr of the Sorrows, are the Latinium Devil Jahi herself!""No, dear: I am Death. There is a difference. And I saved your mother."She quickly kissed my hand, then winked.I balked."You! You? You.""I saved all of Arcadia."And with that, she forced me into her arms. I shrieked, punching her to no avail.Rosy and Yuri spilled into my door in a frenzy to defend me with what little they had, but with her long sharp claws, Jarngrimr dragged the three of us out through the windowAnd straight to Hel.Asmodeus' cruel face softens. “I don't mean to pry, Janet, but don't you tire of resisting? It must be exhausting. Loving someone you despise. Let go of that hate, crown jewel. It is only keeping you from flight.”My wing stains ache. I nearly knock my tea cup over in anger. “Who said anything about love?” I demand. I have never told a single soul besides Samael that I love him. It is a secret I desperately keep. How sad, a tithe in love with her Fairy King. The Fairy King wound up being Tam Lin, trapped by his own enchantments. True, he is in ensnared by me, but our magic goes both ways.Asmodeus whistles low. “Raw nerve, eh? There's no use hiding your desire from me, Janet. You were built for him. Your very DNA has Samael etched on it. Fetal contracts and all that. Your signature is your wings.”“I was built for no one besides Proust’s vast corpus of literature,” I say haughtily.Asmodeus assumes a patronizing look, as if he is indulging a petulant child. I hate it. “Don't lie to yo
“You're the demon of lust. How can I trust you?” I challenge.Asmodeus laughs. “What? Afraid I'll light your passion afire for our dear Samael? I would never do that, crown jewel. Your will is your own, and Samael would abhor me for manipulating you. He wants to win you for himself, without outside interference.” Asmodeus strokes his chin in contemplation. “Also, I don't just preside over lust, Janet - I'm a businessman,” he adds as an afterthought. “I run Hell's casinos and gambling houses and bars and bordellos, you know. Demons are more than the classifications mortals arbitrarily assign us. You would know that if you made any effort to socialize with us. Even just a trifle of trying to be queen. Your throne grows cold in the Hellopolis, dove.”My face reddens. “I am trying,” I murmur.“No, you run away to your avant garde bohemian flat in Paris and paint the days away,” Asmodeus points out. “Is it any wonder my kind distrusts you? You haven't put forward an iota of effort to know S
“No! You are a beauty, inside and out,” Suri reassures me. “You bring out the best in Prince Samael. He is cruel - all demons are - but he has a better nature you draw out. He has changed since he has known you.”“He's turned his cruelty on me, you mean,” I lament. I take a drag from the hookah to calm my nerves, tasting the flavored serpentine vapor. This one is bottled sea foam. It tastes salty and sweet as the smoke settles in my lungs, then I exhale and try to relax.Suri looks concerned.“I'm sure he can be... trying at times. Prince Samael has always been capricious. Mercurial. But he loves you fiercely. He shows that love for his fallen brothers and sisters. Surely he has shown it to you?”“He has, yes,” I say. “But I don't know if I'd call it innocent affection. It's a dark, twisted force. I would never trust him, not really. Please don’t tell anyone that, Suri. It could cost me everything I love.”Suri steeples her fingers under her chin. “He has your best interests at heart,”
“Why, of course, my little dumpling.” She fixes me a plate of sweet, wrinkled dates and a stick of roasted lamb with seared onions she grills with her own fiery hair of flames. I hand over the appropriate coins - more than necessary - and she grins. “Come, sit with me, Janet. Tell me what that strange device in your ears is. I do so love your tales”“Oh really, I couldn't bother you, you’re so busy, you’re my friend-”“No. It is no bother at all! I quite enjoy your company. Come, tell me of the human world. I have not been there for many centuries. Your stories are always so delightful.”“Alright then,” I agree. She ushers me into her tent and onto a divan. There is a hookah crafted from the fumes of dragon’s breath that she smokes, smiling lackadaisically. She encourages me to try it. I do, in between bites of kebab and dates.“This is an iPhone,” I explain, taking out my earbuds and playing music for her on the speakers. Allat and Izad are spellbound by the Runaways. Suri claps in de
A breeze picks up, spreading the cherry blossom petals to the breeze like rice thrown at a wedding. Samael catches a handful idly, crushing them between his fingers. I cringe at his act of destruction. He winces at my reaction and discards the pulp.“I didn't mean...” he trails off.“I know,” I say, too quick. I chew my upper lip, my cheeks burning. I am embarrassed for my show of weakness and even more for lashing out with violence. “I- I shouldn't have hit you.”“It's nothing. I’ve withstood much worse.”Cricket chirps and the gentle buzz of cicadas stretch in the silence between us. Fireflies light the air like will-o'-the-wisps.“I - I wouldn't mind if you told me a story,” I say.Samael looks at me in confusion. “Really?”“Yes, really. Like you did when I was young.”He smiles tentatively. “If you're sure...”“I am.”He rises, coming to sit beside me. He drapes his cloak over my shoulders to keep me warm. “Thank you,” I say.“It's nothing. Shall I - do you want me to begin?”“Y
I choose a Stephen King paperback – Salem’s Lot - from the lower shelves and struggle to decipher the pages, my curvy body sinking into the cushy couch. I’ve always been more size 12 than two, and look like those dumb pictures of Eve – soft sloping stomach like van Eyck’s Ghent altarpiece, pert breasts, and curving hips for days. The words of my chosen book all turn up like mush. The leather smells like the cigars Samael smokes, the spice of his orange and musk cologne, and rain. It smells like him. I close my eyes, inhaling the scent. Memories of him from my childhood haunt me, the man cloaked in shadow, the owner of my soul.The trauma of his words stretch across my mind: “How I will delight in breaking you.”I let out a soft cry, tears forming in my eyes. Here, in solitude, I can give in to the empty ache within me and cry over the childhood I never had, over the life I never will possess. I blot at my tears, cursing them.“Janet?” Samael asks with concern, suddenly materializing at