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Authors: Kristen Ashley

Fantasyland 03 Fantastical

BOOK: Fantasyland 03 Fantastical
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Fantastical

Kristen Ashley

Published by Kristen Ashley

 

Copyright 2011 Kristen Ashley at
Smashwords

 

Discover other titles by Kristen Ashley:

 

Rock Chick Series:

Rock Chick

Rock Chick Rescue

Rock Chick Redemption

Rock Chick Renegade

Rock Chick Revenge

Rock Chick Renegade

 

The ‘Burg Series:

For You

At Peace

Golden Trail

 

The Colorado Mountain Series:

The Gamble

Sweet Dreams

Lady Luck

 

Dream Man Series:

Mystery Man

Wild Man

 

The Fairytale Series:

Wildest Dreams

The Golden Dynasty

 

Other Titles by Kristen Ashley:

Lacybourne Manor

Mathilda, SuperWitch

Penmort Castle

Sommersgate House

Three Wishes

 

www.kristenashley.net

 

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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of this author.

 

*****

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the memory of Sarah
Ellene Glossop Mahan, my grandmother,

who would clean a cave because, she told me,
only stupid people get bored.

 

That said, she’d have more fun dancing in the
streets

and she’d do that too.

Definitely.

 

*****

 

 

Chapter One

Holy Crap

 

I heard birds.

They were singing. Not chirping. Singing. It
wasn’t birdsong. It was just plain, old song but in chirps. It was
hard to describe but there it was.

A lot of it.

It made me open my eyes.

Then I blinked and felt it. I was lying down
in a bed but not my bed. The mattress was strange, very soft, very
plush. I wasn’t on it, I was
in
it. It partially enveloped
my body like a warm, comfortable, squashy cloud.

What on earth?

I stared at the sun washed walls, felt the
bed and heard the strange birdsong.

One thing I knew for certain. I was not
home.

I shot straight to sitting in the bed and
looked around the room.

I was in a four-poster bed, gossamer, pale
lilac curtains all around, a fluffy, pale lilac-covered duvet on
top. The walls of the room were an even paler lilac and I looked
around at the bizarre, white furniture.

A big wardrobe with scrolled feet, the sides
bowed in, the top an arch. It was bulky and yet delicate. A miracle
of construction. There was no way that wardrobe could stand on
those flimsy, curled feet but it was.

Two tall dressers: one that zigged at the
top, zagged in the middle and zigged again at the bottom; another
whose drawers went up like steps on one side, a different miracle
of construction for it appeared to be teetering yet stood true.

Then there was a dressing table with a big
oval mirror on the top and two smaller ones to its side. The
dressing table was also delicate with curly whirls for legs, around
the mirrors and carved into the three drawers down either side. It
was covered in fragile, intricate glass bottles, all of them in
various shades of purple.

“Holy crap, I’m dreaming,” I whispered.

That had to be it. I was dreaming. Dreaming
the most freaking real dream I had ever had in my life.

Suddenly, the door flew open. I jumped and
looked to my right to see a blonde woman dance into the room
wearing and old-fashioned blinding white nightgown, the voluminous
kind that had a string at the neckline and gathers all around.

Yeesh, how did she get that nightgown so
white? I was never good at keeping whites white. They always grayed
out.

It had to be new.

Oh wait, this was a dream. Of course it
would be that white.

“Cora!” she cried my name, whirling into the
room, “Cora, Cora, Cora! Today is the best day
of my
life!

She stopped at the foot of the bed, shoved a
diaphanous curtain aside and smiled down at me while I stared up at
her.

Whoa. Seriously. She was gorgeous. Bright
blue eyes. Thick blonde hair. Delicate features. Petite. A
stunner.

“Can you believe it?” she asked then clapped
her hands. “I’m getting married today!”

“Uh –” I started but she rocked swiftly up
to her toes and then danced gracefully on them to one of the two
sets of French doors that were on either side of the dressing
table.

She flung them open, the birdsong stopped,
she stepped out on a Juliet balcony and threw her arms up and out
to the sides.

Then she let out two beautiful, perfect
notes in a gorgeous soprano, the birdsong started again, in earnest
this time (and I thought it was earnest before) and I blinked
through the sheer curtains as I saw a tiny colorful bird (and I
knew there were colorful birds in the world but there weren’t birds
that
colorful) alight on her outstretched hand.

She brought the bird to her face and the
bird chirped gaily at her instead of flying away.

Then she told the bird, “I’m getting married
to the man I love today, Aggie! Isn’t that
marvelous?

The bird chirped happily at her and then
pecked her nose, not like a peck, more like a kiss.

She giggled and it, too, sounded like a
happy song.

Whoa!

I blinked.

That was when I knew.

I was dreaming I was in one of those
animated movies.

Wow.

Cool! What an awesome dream!

She turned and the bird hopped up to her
shoulder and somehow kept its place as she danced on her toes back
to the bed with more grace than any human I’d ever seen. Then
again, seeing as she was part of a dream, she could be as graceful
as any character in an animated movie that my mind could make
up.

She threw the side curtains aside and
ordered merrily, “Get up, silly! We have to get ready! So much to
do, so much to do! Tra la! Tra la, la, la, la! Tra, la, la,
la,
la!

She emitted the tra la’s in her gorgeous
voice while whirling toward the door and the bird fluttered off her
shoulder onto the bed as she did so. Then it hopped to me, looked
in my eyes and chirped.

God, I swear I knew that the bird was
saying, “Heya.”

Holy crap.

“Heya,” I whispered to the bird.

That was when I could swear the bird’s eyes
lit up with a smile.

Holy crap!

“Up, Cora, you can’t be lazy today! I stayed
with you to make certain you got up and got ready in plenty of
time. As my matron of honor, you have to be nearly as beautiful as
me!” she called from the door then threw her shining, golden blonde
mane back and laughed a sing-song laugh before she tipped her head
back down and smiled a stunning smile at me. “Not that
that
will be hard, my exquisite sister.”

She clapped her hands with delight again and
exited the door, closing it behind her.

I stared at the door. Then I looked back
down at the bird who was still looking up at me.

“This is a way cool dream,” I told the bird
and it tipped its head to the side like my words were
confusing.

Then it took two hops so it was sitting on
my thigh.

Awesome!

Then it said, “Chirp chirp,” which I took to
mean, “You aren’t dreaming.”

“I am so totally dreaming,” I told the
bird.

The bird replied, “Chirp, chirp, chirpity,
chirp,” which came to me as chirps but I knew meant, “No, really,
this isn’t a dream, Cora.”

“It’s a dream, bird, I know this first off
because people don’t talk to birds or, at least, know what they’re
saying. Unless, of course, they’re bonkers,” I returned.

The bird tilted its head again and then
chirped, “Chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp,” (with a bunch more chirps)
which meant, “Are you ill? Of course people talk to birds. And
bunnies. And deer. And mice. And my name is Agglethorpe. You and
everyone call me Aggie.”

“There it is,” I told the bird. “Your name
is Agglethorpe. That’s a perfectly ludicrous name that only could
be given to a bird in a dream or a Disney movie.”

That was when the bird hopped forward and
pecked my hand, which kind of hurt, and then looked up at me and
chirped what I took to mean, “My name isn’t ludicrous! I know this
because
you
gave it to me!”

But I was staring at my hand where the bird,
or Aggie, had pecked.

That peck had kind of hurt.

What?

You weren’t supposed to feel pain in dreams,
were you?

Then I heard a noise I’d never heard in real
life before. The kind of noise you hear in movies when horse’s
hooves are beating on cobblestones or the members of Monty Python
were cracking together coconuts. Aggie flew up and to the window to
alight on the balustrade of the Juliet balcony.

It looked down then it started hopping up
and down as it turned its head toward me and started chirping
madly, telling me, “Come quick, Cora, oh no! Come quick! Dashiell
is here! With Orlando and…” the bird looked back down then urgently
to me, chirping in a dire chirp (yes, seriously, a
dire
chirp), “
Noctorno!

Something about the bird’s demeanor made me
throw the covers back, struggle out of the bed (seriously, feather
beds were awesome but hard as hell to get out of) and rush (not
gracefully nor dancing on my toes, I was pretty certain) to the
balcony as Aggie kept chirping at me.

“This can’t be. Dashiell can’t see Rosa! Not
before the wedding! If he does…”

I made it to the balcony and looked down to
see that indeed three horses were in the courtyard. But I lost my
sense of urgency when I saw the courtyard, its cobbles sun-warmed,
gleaming clean and blonde. It was flanked by fountains, their
waters blinking brilliantly in the bright sunlight. There were also
an abundance of flower beds of every shape and size, ditto with
flower pots and hanging planters. There were flowers here, there
and everywhere, willy-nilly, on the house, on the cobbles, in the
lush, green lawns. The stone of the house itself was nearly covered
either in flowering vines or jutting planters with bright petals
and dripping greenery.

Wow. Unbelievable. It was so beautiful I
couldn’t breathe.

Then I looked up and out to see what
surrounded the house. To my right a tall mountain-like hill with a
rushing fall of water that pooled in a glinting pond that fed in a
thin stream to a river at the opposite side. To the front beyond
the manicured lawn, a dark green, thriving forest as far as the eye
could see. To the left, a winding river so clear you could see the
rocks on its bed even from a distance.

God, my mind made up some seriously cool
shit.


Cora!
” Aggie shrieked through a
chirp.

I looked down at him, still slightly dazed
from the spectacle before me.

“What?” I asked.

He twitched his bird head to the courtyard
and I looked back down to see the three horses with the three
riders again. They finally got my attention because they, too,
looked magnificent. Just the horses were magnificent but the
riders. Yowza. I couldn’t see faces but those powerful thighs.

Um…
yum!

I noted one horse was white, one was gray
and one was black.

The white horse’s rider was wearing a white
hat with a fluffy scarlet feather flowing along its side and around
its back. He was also wearing a scarlet vest over one of those
shirts with puffy sleeves. His shirt was white. With this, he was
wearing biscuit-colored breeches and dark brown boots.

The gray horse’s rider was wearing a gray
hat with fluffy deep blue feather flowing along its side and around
its back. He was wearing a deep blue vest over a dove gray
puffy-sleeved shirt, charcoal gray breeches and matching boots.

The black horse’s rider was wearing all
black. Black hat. Black puffy shirt. Black boots. No vest. No
feather.

Hmm. Interesting.

I further noted the black rider had the most
powerful thighs of the three.

Hmm.
Very
interesting.

“Cora!” Aggie chirped.

“What?” I asked loudly and then I felt
it.

Three sets of eyes on me.

I looked back down at the riders in the
courtyard to see all three looking up at me.

Uh…
whoa!

Holy… freaking…
crap!

BOOK: Fantasyland 03 Fantastical
7.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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