Blinding Beauty (25 page)

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Authors: Brittany Fichter

Tags: #beauty, #love story, #princess, #fairy tale, #clean romance, #happy ending, #trilogy, #beauty and the beast, #retelling, #glass hill

BOOK: Blinding Beauty
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Ever studied the servant more
closely. Then it dawned on him that this was the very same servant
he’d found in their room the day before, serving Isa her midday
meal uninvited.

As if he’d heard his thoughts, the
servant, Brokk, turned and looked at Ever directly. “How was the
drink, Your Highness?” As he uttered the words, a blast of power
punched Ever so hard he nearly stumbled backwards. Strength, so
ancient that his mouth immediately tasted of dust, emanated from
the man, and Ever could only stare in horror. How had he missed
this? Either the man had accidentally let down his guard, or he was
no longer feared being found out. From the appraising look in the
small man’s eye, Ever was assured that it was the
latter.

Launce, however, seemed unaware of
the wriggling streams of power that flowed from the man. “It was
wonderful, Brokk. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything quite so
sweet.”


I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Brokk
didn’t move his eyes from Ever.

A ripple moved down Ever’s
body.


There’s an intriguing history
behind this drink. It’s a nectar, you see. One found only in the
deep forests of the north.”

Ever’s feet were still planted on
the wooden planks of the dock, but his head began to spin. Brokk
continued to speak, but Ever couldn’t make out the words. Blinking
rapidly, he tried to fight the fog that was rolling into his eyes
as he squinted at the remnants of the thick, red liquid in his
goblet.

Bleary eyed, Ever dipped his
finger into the chalice and pulled out a few drops. The bright
sunlight, which had been so cheerful only a few moments before,
nearly blinded him, but he was barely able to make out the tiniest
pieces of a crushed herb, though he couldn’t tell which one. Dread
and anger coursed through his veins like fire. He had been
right.

Isa.

She must have known. And now she
was by herself. Ever turned to grab Launce so they could run to
her, but when he tried to pivot, the world tilted, and the force
which should have held him to the dock failed him. Down Ever went,
flailing his arms like a newborn, thrashing uselessly as the sea
swallowed him. Through the murky water, he sensed another body
sinking beside him. It sank, still as a stone. Spots began to fill
Ever’s eyes over the fog, and he stupidly sucked in a mouthful of
salt water.

Even as he fought the water, Isa
was the only thought on his mind. She had called for him, waited
for him, and if he couldn’t escape soon, the enchanter would have
her first. Not this! he called out to the Fortress. For her sake,
please don’t let me fail! Not like this! Not without helping her
first!

As he cried out to the Fortress,
some of his sense returned, and Ever was finally able to find the
surface. His pleas were answered, to his great relief, as his eyes
began to regain their clarity, and he coughed up bile and salt. As
he clung to the side of the dock, he could barely make out the
retreating figure in a servant’s uniform. His first impulse was to
pull himself out of the water and hunt the bastard down. But the
memory of the sinking figure came to mind. No, he thought, shaking
his head. I need to reach Isa.

Pulling himself from the water,
however, he knew he couldn’t leave Launce behind. With a cry of
anger, he dove back into the depths, putting the remainder of his
strength into aiding his eyes. Every part of him screamed to leave
the water and run to his wife. But Isa’s voice, the one that seemed
to now reside constantly in his head, wouldn’t allow it.

As he searched, it seemed that
Launce had simply disappeared. The deeper he swam, the more leaden
his limbs felt. Unnaturally thick and opaque, the water seemed to
fight him. His searching was in vain, for he found nothing. But
just when he was about to give up, a dull shine caught his eye.
Ever’s lungs burned as he swam closer to find the buckle of a boot.
When he grabbed hold of it, Ever praised the Maker that it was
attached to a leg. Once again, he turned and swam upwards, trying
to ignore the feeling of knives slashing at his lungs as they
demanded air.

It took every ounce of strength
for Ever to heave himself back onto the dock and then to drag
Launce up behind him. For a long moment, try as he might, Ever
could not move a muscle. The effects of the drink were still
lingering within him. The Fortress had removed much of them, but he
wasn’t quite free yet. A yelp of pain slipped from him as he thrust
one hand palm down against the wooden planks, and then the other.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself onto his knees.

Please, he asked the Fortress.
Don’t punish her for my mistake! A familiar heat, which started in
his heart, began to warm his shivering limbs, and slowly, ever so
slowly, he was able to stand. Launce, however, lay still, his chest
moving so slightly it was difficult to see at all. Again, Ever
wanted nothing more than to leave him there in the pathetic pile
he’d collapsed in. But was that what the enchanter wanted? For him
to leave Launce behind, unguarded?

Ever sucked in a deep breath and
placed one hand on each side of the young man’s head. His arms
trembled with the effort, but finally, a thin blue flame moved
between each palm. As it did, Launce coughed up a lungful of
seawater, and his eyes flew open.


Isa!” Ever wheezed. But he didn’t
have to say more. The look in Launce’s eyes told Ever that he
understood. Launce, too, struggled to stand, and then they were
off. At first, Ever’s steps were nearly as clumsy as his
brother-in-law’s, but as he left the dock behind and crashed
through the royal gardens towards the palace, a new determination
filled him. The clean, crisp air of autumn cleared his mind, and
soon, Ever had left Launce far behind.


Move!” he bellowed as he sprinted
down the halls, willing to trample whoever got in his way. His
heart beat as though it might burst, but it wasn’t from the
exertion of running. Fear drove him on like a madman. Against his
will, images of all the things the enchanter might do to his wife
invaded his imagination. Still, it didn’t matter how fast he ran,
because to him, it would never be fast enough.

Relief threatened to wash through
him as he rounded the final corner and saw Norbert still standing
guard, looking as fierce as ever.


Norbert, move!” he ordered. The
old guard barely managed to step to the side before Ever gathered
his wavering strength and moved right through the thick wooden
door. Stumbling to a halt, he watched in horror.

The room was filled with a
sickening, violet glow, swirling about at ever-increasing speeds.
Thin streaks of lightning flashed within the thin cloud that hung
over the rose mirror in the center of the floor. Inside the mirror
was Isa.


Ever!” She banged against the
inside of the mirror, shrieking his name in a way that tore his
heart. Placing his hands on the mirror, Ever closed his eyes and
hunched his shoulders, drawing every bit of power within him. His
hands grew hot and began to scald as he kept them against the
glass. Willing it to break, he breathed in and out in deep, even
breaths.

When he felt the resistance begin
to lessen, he opened his eyes, only to see Isa still trapped. It
wasn’t the mirror’s power that was giving out. Rather, it was Isa
that was receding and being pulled right along with it.

He didn’t know how to save
her.

Tears begin to slide down his face
as he placed his hands against hers on the glass. He could no
longer hear her, but the pain and fear on her face was only too
visible in the purple glow that lit the room. The midnight blue of
her wide eyes burned into his as he struggled to hold on. Slowly,
she began to fade.


No!” he shouted, banging on the
glass. When he did, a great boom sounded, and he was thrown back
against the bed. The mirror shattered, and his heart leapt with
hope. Upon opening his eyes, he could see that the glass was indeed
broken.

But Ever was alone.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX

Taken

Isa called
out his name until her voice grew hoarse, but it made no
difference. The glass she was trying to cling to became rough like
frost, and Ever was gone. She pounded her fists against the mirror,
and when it didn’t break, she reached for her sword, only to
realize she had once again forgotten to put it on back in her
chambers in Cobren. When she looked at where her sword belt should
have been, Isa gasped.

The floor was made of light blue
glass. And not just the floor, but the walls, the ceiling, even the
door across the room. Where was she?

The room she stood in was high,
three times the height of that which she’d just left behind. There
were no candles or torches lit, but there really was no need.
Everything held the same strange blue glow, as though a great light
lay beyond the walls and illuminated it from the other side. A
single round window sat above the bed across the room from the
door. The window was also made of glass, but the clear familiar
kind, not the rough, frosty surface that made up the rest of the
room. The bed was small and simple, neatly made as though it were
expecting company. The only other piece of furniture was an old
wooden wardrobe that stood to the left of the door. The wardrobe
was open, and Isa could see that inside of it were stacked and
folded blankets, a few gowns, and a large fur coat, the kind the
northern trappers often wore when they traveled to Soudain to trade
their goods. Only this coat was far more elaborate, with intricate
stitching on the body and along the sleeves. It had clearly been
made for a woman.

Only as Isa noted the coat did she
realize that she was cold. Isa walked over to the window, which
faced east; she nearly fainted when she looked out. Whatever
structure she stood in was balanced precariously on the precipice
of a great cliff. Razor-edged mountains that rose up into the
lake-blue sky like daggers encircled her. The sun was up, and
though she couldn’t see it directly, its light wasn’t the friendly
autumn light they had been enjoying in Cobren. It was the light of
a winter sun, tired and old, and hinting of sunset. The mountains
themselves were covered in snow and ice, and Isa sensed they hadn’t
been thawed in many, many years, if ever.

She turned back to the room, to
the wall that she’d come through, and wondered what had happened.
She remembered pacing in her Cobren chambers. She had been waiting
for Ever when a strange violet light had begun to pulse from inside
her rose mirror. Knowing better than to touch it, Isa had only
stepped forward a little to get a better look, but it must have
been too close. Before she knew what was happening, she’d felt
herself being sucked into the mirror. Piece by piece, she had begun
to melt away from her room in Cobren, but even as each piece of her
had begun to fit back together in this strange room, she had held
on. She had tried to pull the power from her aching arms to fight.
It must not have been enough though. By the time Ever had returned,
it was too late, and she couldn’t hold on any longer.

Still, she had hoped. She was
gone, but not completely. Ever could save her! The Fortress might
not have left her with enough power to escape, but his was strong.
If only he could find her.

A knock at the door made her jump,
then freeze as Brokk’s voice called out, echoing as though in a
great cavern.


Your Highness, I have some food.
I thought you might be hungry.” He sounded meeker than ever, but
Isa didn’t care. He had lied to her, gotten her to trust him.
Whatever power he used was deep, and she would have nothing to do
with it.


Please, Your Highness. I know
you’re angry with me. I would be too. But if you only give me a few
moments, I promise there is the best reason for this. I would never
take a woman away from her husband and family against her wishes if
it were not for the direst of needs. Please, just
listen.”

Still, Isa said nothing. There was
nothing he could say that would move her heart from the place it
was in now. Instead, Isa walked over to the window, made a fist,
and tried with all her might to push the blue fire forth from her
soul to open the window. But it was no use. Her insides felt dry,
as though all of her blood had dissipated into the air.

And, she realized, she was very,
very tired, the kind of tired that no amount of sleep could ever
cure. Months of feeling her power, and then Ever, slipping away
from her had been almost too much. Now, alone and terrified, it
seemed there was nothing left in the world that she had to
give.


I’m sorry I lied,” Brokk called
quietly from behind the door. “I needed your help, but it would
have been impossible to speak with you alone at the betrothal
celebration. Your husband is a good man, but I knew he would never,
ever allow me to speak candidly with you under his watch. I just
need a few moments. I promise.”

Still Isa stayed
silent.


I didn’t lie when I told you that
Agatha died.”

Before Isa could respond, the wall
she faced suddenly lost its frosted blue color, and instead became
a scene, like one from the stories her father used to tell her.
Despite her anger, she was in awe. Lovelier than any painting she
had ever seen, this picture was flawless. Lush fields of corn and
barley covered a countryside, which rolled with hills that glowed
green and yellow in the dying day’s sun. A young woman wearing a
style of dress Isa had never seen before walked along the road,
carrying a bucket in each hand. To Isa’s surprise, the picture
began to move. It felt as though she were there with the
girl.

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