When I thought I understood real friendship, I was a long-lost queen.
When I discovered there was so much more to my life than love and hate, that those around me were
just pawns in a game whose rules I’d unwittingly put in place, I discovered I was a long-forgotten
goddess. But goddess or not, powerless or powerful, my feet were taking me someplace I wasn’t sure I
wanted to go. What did I hope to find? Did I truly believe I could hear him call me—that he’d want to
call me? Yes, I did. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to hope, even if I wasn’t sure I was allowed. If I
deserved to. I headed down the familiar dirt path beneath the lattice of trees overhead, pausing beside
the bush with a partially snapped stem that jutted outward like a broken limb. The one that pointed to
the secret cavern.
Only, it’s not much of a secret anymore, is it?
My feet picked themselves up. Glowing pools would never again
I reached the black, towering fortress that had for so long shaken and
screamed at the power of my glance.
For the first time in this lifetime, I stared up at it, and nothing moved.
My legs, unused to such steady footing while in the sight of the lord’s castle, twitched in anticipation of
a fall that never came.
There was no need. My feet dragged me forward.
At the grand wooden door, I raised a fist to knock.
But I stopped. I felt like if I touched it, the entire castle might crumble.
It had done so once before. Not at my touch exactly. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was
responsible for whatever destruction I’d find in this place. But that was presumptuous of me. He was
strong-willed, and he wouldn’t crumble at the prospect of freedom. If anything, he’d be triumphant over
You can’t stop now. I pulled my sleeves over my wrists and propped
both elbows against the door, pushing until it gave way.
The darkness inside the foyer tried to deceive me into thinking night
had fallen. The stream of light that trickled from the familiar crack in the garden door called the
darkness a liar.
I gripped the small iron handles, the material of my sleeves guarding
the cold metal from my touch, and pulled.
My touch had come to the garden before me.
The rose bushes that surrounded the enclosed circular area were
torn, ripped, trodden, and plucked. The blooms lay withered, scattered and turned to dust, their once-
white petals a sickly shade of yellowish brown, smooth blooms turned coarse and wrinkled.
The fountain at the center no longer trickled with water. Its shallow
pool was stagnant, piles of brown festering in mildewing green liquid. Dotted amongst the brown was
pallid stone rubble. The tears of the weeping elf child statue, which belonged at the top of the fountain,
had ceased at last. But the gash across its face told me the child’s tears had not been staunched by joy. I
wondered if Ailill had had it carved to represent the pain I’d inflicted on him as a child. And I wondered if
now he could no longer bear to remind himself of what I’d done.
I hadn’t done this. But I felt as if I had. If Ailill had gone on a rampage
after he came back to the castle, it was because of what I’d done to him. Everything I touched turned
sour. I yanked and pulled, trying to draw my hands further into my sleeves, but there wasn’t enough
material to cover them entirely.
“Well, what a surprise.”
I gazed into the shadow beside the doorway. How could I have not seen? The stone table was occupied.
The place where I’d sat alone for hours, days, and months was littered with crumpled and decaying
leaves, branches, and petals, obscuring the scars left by a dagger or knife striking time and time again
across its surface. The matching bench that once nestled on the opposite side was toppled over, leaving
only dark imprints in the dirt.
“A pity you could not make yourself at home here when you were
My breath caught in my throat.
The man at the table was clad entirely in black, as I knew he would
be. The full-length jacket had been swapped for a jerkin, but I could see the embossing of roses hadn’t
been discarded in the exchange. He wore dark leather gloves, the fingers of which were crossed like the
wings of a bird in flight. His pale elbows rested on the table amongst the leaves and branches and
thorns. He wore the hat I was used to seeing him wear, a dark, pointed top resting on a wide brim. Its
black metal band caught a ray of the sunlight almost imperceptibly. But I noticed. I always did.
His face was entirely uncovered. Those large and dark eyes, locked on
me, demanded my attention. They were the same eyes of the boy I’d left alone to face my curse—not so
long ago from my point of view. He was more frightened then, but there was no mistaking the hurt in
those eyes both then and now.
“You are not welcome here, Olivière.”
His words sliced daggers through my stomach.
“I … I thought I heard you call me.”
He cocked his head to the side, his brown eyes moving askance. “You
heard me call you?”
“Yes … ” I realized how foolish it sounded. I was a fool to come. Why
had I let myself fall for that sound again, for my name whispered on the wind? Why was I so certain it
was he who’d said my name?
He smiled, not kindly. “And where, pray tell, have you been lurking?
Under a rose bush? Behind the garden door? Or do those rounded female ears possess a far greater
sense of hearing than my jagged male ones?”
I brushed the tips of my ears self-consciously. Elric had been so
fascinated by them, by what he saw as a mutilation. This lord—Ailill—wasn’t like that. He’d touched
them once, as a child. He’d tried to heal them, thinking they were meant to be pointed.
The boy with a heart was the man sitting there before me. Even after
all we’d been through, he’d still done me a kindness by healing my mother. “No, I just thought—”
“No, you did not think, or you would not have come.”
I clenched my jaw. My tongue was threatening to spew the vile anger
that had gotten us into this mess to begin with.
He sighed and crossed his arms across his chest. “I gave explicit
instructions that I not be disturbed.” He leaned back against the wall behind him, his chin jutting
I wiped my sweaty fingertips on my skirt. I wouldn’t let the rest of my
hands out from the insides of my sleeves. The sweat had already soaked through them. “I needed to
He scoffed. “Thank me for what? For your prolonged captivity, or for
not murdering both your mother and your lover when I had the chance?”
So you admit you took Jurij to punish me? You admit they were both
in danger in your “care”? Quickly, I had to clench my jaw to keep down the words that threatened to
spill over. He’s not who I thought he was. He wouldn’t have harmed them.
I loosened the muscles in my jaw one hair’s breadth at a time.
“For healing me when you were a child. For accepting me into your
castle instead of putting me to death for trespassing in it. For … For forgiving me for cursing you, even
though you were innocent.” My voice was quiet, but I was determined to make it grow louder. “For
saving my mother’s life.”
He waved one hand lazily in the air. “Unfinished projects irk me.”
“But you didn’t have to.”
A shrug. “The magic was nearly entirely spent on the churl anyway.”
“I beg your pardon?”
He leaned forward and placed both palms across the rotted forest
remnants on the table. “My apologies,” he said, his lips curled into a sneer. “I simply meant that I
wasted years and years and let the magic wither from my body to save a person of no consequence. You
may thank me for that if you like. I would rather not be reminded of it.”
How odd it was to see the face I’d imagined come to life. The
mocking, the condescending—it was all there. I just hadn’t known the canvas before.
And what a strange and beautiful canvas it was. That creamy peach
skin, the brownish tint of his shoulder-length tresses. He was so much paler than any person I had ever
seen. Save for the specters.
Despite the paleness, part of me felt I wasn’t wrong to have mistaken
one brother for another. Elric had been dark-skinned, but they seemed almost like reflections of the
same person; they shared the same brows, the same lips, and even eyes of a similar shape if not color.
Perhaps the face before me was a bit gaunter, the nose a bit longer. It was easier to focus on the
differences. Thinking of the similarities made me want to punch the face in front of me all the
more—and that would undermine everything I had set out to do when I made my way to him. I wanted
to see if you were really restored to life. Say it. I wanted to know if you really forgave me. Say it. I
wanted to know why I … Why I feel this way about you, why I keep thinking about you, when I used to
be unable to stand the sight of you. Say it, Noll! I dug my nails into my palm and shook the thoughts
from my head. He’d called my mother a “churl.” I couldn’t just tell him everything I was thinking. “Have
you no sense of empathy?”
“What a coincidence that you should mention that. I am sending Ailill
to the village with an edict. He can escort
“Ailill?” But aren’t you him? Could I have been mistaken? Oh, goddess, help me, why do I do this to
myself? Why do I think I know everything?
He waved his hand, and one of the specters appeared beside me from
The specters. There were about a hundred of them in the castle. Pale
as snow in skin and hair with red, burning eyes. Mute servants who seemed to anticipate the lord’s
every command. Only now I knew who they really were.
Oh. “You call him by your own name?” I asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “I call them all by my name. They are me,
His icy stare sent another invisible dagger through my stomach. “Yes,
“A shame you never cared to ask my name when you were my guest,”
he said. “I have a feeling things might have turned out much differently—for all of us.”
“You knew what would happen! Why didn’t you warn me?” I had to
squeeze my fists and teeth together to stop myself from screaming. This wasn’t going at all like I had
hoped. But what had I hoped? What could I have possibly expected? I thought I’d be forgiven. I thought
that Ailill and I might start over, that we could be friends, perhaps even … What a fool I’ve been.
Ailill turned slightly, his attention suddenly absorbed in a single white
petal that remained on a half-trodden bush beside him. “I was not entirely in control of my emotions,”
he said, “as you may well know.”
“I tried to give you a way out!” My jaw wouldn’t stay shut.
Ailill laughed and reached over to pluck the petal from its thorns.
“Remind me exactly when that was? Perhaps between condemning me to an eternal life of solitude and
wretchedness and providing yourself with a way to feel less guilty about the whole affair? And then you
just popped right back to the present, I suppose, skipping over those endless years in a matter of
moments.” He crushed the petal in his hand.
“A way to let myself feel less guilty?” He wasn’t entirely wrong. But it
wasn’t as if he had done nothing wrong.
Ailill bolted upright, slamming the fist that gripped the petal against
the twigs and grass on the table. “Your last words to me were entirely for your own benefit, as well you
If, after your own Returning, you can find it in your heart to forgive
me, the last of the men whose blood runs with his own power will free all men bound by my curse.
“How is wishing to break the curse on the village for my benefit?”
“Perhaps because the curse was your doing? Perhaps because you
only wanted the curse broken to free your lover from it in the first place?”
“Stop calling Jurij my ‘lover.’ He’s not—”
“And you did free him with those words. You knew I would forgive
“How could I have known? I didn’t think it possible you’d forgive me,
not after all we’ve been through.”
“You knew because you knew I wanted to be free myself. That I would
do anything—even forgive you for half a moment—to earn that freedom.” His voice grew quieter. “You
never wanted anything from me, not really. I was just a pawn in your game, a way to free the other men
in your village, a way to punish the men from mine.”
I fought back what I couldn’t believe was threatening to spring to my
eyes. No tears, not in front of him.
“The men of the old village deserved everything they got,” I spat at
last, knowing full well that wasn’t the whole story.
Ailill scoffed and put both hands on his hips, his arms akimbo. Oh,
how I tired of that pose. The crushed petal remained on the table. Its bright white added a bit of life to
“There were plenty of young boys not yet corrupted,” he said. “And
some that might have never been.” He took a deep breath. “But, of course, you are not entirely to
blame. I blame myself every day for ever taking a childish interest in you. That should not have counted
I swallowed. Of course. Before the curse of the village had broken, a
woman had absolute power over the one man who loved or yearned for her. When I visited the past
through the pool in the secret cavern, I discovered a horde of lusty men who knew nothing of love but
were overcome with desire. Since so many had lusted for any female who walked before them, and I
had carried the power from my own version of the village with me, it had been child’s play to control the
men. But why had that power extended to Ailill? He had only been a boy then, broken, near silent—and
kindhearted. He couldn’t have regarded me with more than a simple crush on an older sisterly figure,
but it had been enough.
“But you did forgive me.” Why couldn’t I stop the words from
Ailill shook his head and let a weary smile spread across his features.
“Forgive you? I could never forgive you. No more than I could forgive myself for daring to think, if just
for a moment, that I … ” He stopped.
I shook my head. “The curse wouldn’t have been broken. The men in
the village wouldn’t now be walking around without masks. Nor you without your veil. If you hadn’t
Ailill tilted his head slightly. His dark eyes searched mine, perhaps for
some answer he thought could be found there. “I would still need the veil even now?” he asked, his
voice quiet. “Are you certain?”
Removing the veil before the curse was broken would have required
the Returning, a ritual in which I freely and earnestly bestowed my heart and affection to him. It would
have never happened, not with the man I knew at the time to be mine. So yes, he would still need the
veil to survive the gaze of women. I was sure of it. He’d been arrogant, erratic, and even cruel. Perhaps
not so much as Elric, Ailill’s even more volatile older brother, the one who wound up with a mob of
angry, murderous women in his castle and a gouge through his heart. But even so.
It was my turn to cross my arms and sneer. “I said you could break the
curse after your own Returning, and I specified that you didn’t need my affection to have a Returning.
All you needed to do was crawl out of whatever abyss I’d sent you to.” I shifted uncomfortably in place.
“And I suppose I should be grateful—for my mother’s sake—that you did.”
Ailill waved a hand at the specter beside me and brushed aside a pile
of clippings on the table to reveal a hand-written letter. It was yellowed and a tad soggy. “Yes, well, the
endless droning that made up your curse gets a bit foggy in my mind—assuming it even made sense in
your mind to begin with. I am afraid I lack the ability to retain exact memories of an event that took
place a hundred lifetimes ago when I was but a scarred child terrified of the monster before him.” He
looked up to face me as the specter retrieved the letter from his extended hand. “But I suppose it was
not all that long ago for the monster, was it?” He turned again to the table, shuffling brush about
aimlessly. “Take her with you to the market,” he said.
The specter made to grab my arm as he passed. I slipped out of his
reach only to back into another specter who had appeared quick as lightning from the foyer. He grabbed
one arm, and the first specter seized the other.
“Let go of me!” I shouted as they began to drag me away.
The specters didn’t pause, as they once would have.
“Stop!” called Ailill from behind me. The specters did as they were
Ailill spoke. “I forgot to inform you that my retainers lost all desire to
follow your orders when I did.” He waved his fingers in the air. “Carry on.”
I struggled against the grip the specters had on my arms. Again. He
has me under his thumb again. “I can walk by myself!” I screamed as my toes slid awkwardly against the
dark foyer floor. “I don’t need to go to the market!”
A black carriage awaited us outside the castle doorway. A third
specter opened the carriage door, and my captors heaved me up into the seat like a sack of grain. The
one with the letter slid in and took the seat across from me. He stared vacantly at the top of the seat
I leaned forward, whipping my hand out to stop the carriage door as
one of the specters moved to close it. I didn’t care what I touched in the castle anymore. Let the whole
A black-gloved hand covered mine. I jumped back. Ailill stuck his head
inside the carriage. His face stopped right before mine, the brim of his hat practically shading me under
it. The sight of his face so close to mine, unveiled and painted with disdain, caused a thunderous racing
of my heart. It was as if I’d just run the length of the entire village.
“You kept your hair short,” he said. He reached his free hand toward
it, then pulled back.
I’d once let the bushy mess of black hair grow as long as it wanted,
but once I cropped it closely to my scalp, I found it easier to deal with. “There hasn’t been enough time
for it to grow, anyway. Not for me.”
He snorted. “Of course. But it makes me remember you as you were,
long ago. When you cursed me and every man whether he deserved it or not.” He leaned back a bit,
putting more space between our faces. “I think you will be most interested in going with my servants to
the market,” he said. “But there will be no need to thank me in person afterward. I would rather not see
you again.” His eyes drifted upwards, thoughtfully. “In fact, remind the villagers that I am closed to all
audiences. My servants will be out there to see that my edict is obeyed.”
Before I could speak, he leaned back and let my hand fall from his. He
reached around the door to close it.
And slammed it in my face.