Once Upon the End (Half Upon a Time) (4 page)

CHAPTER 4

Y
ou’re not going to want to kill me,” May told Malevolent, backing away from the fairy queen in the creature’s own throne room. “Here’s the thing. We can help each other. I think, at least. I didn’t have a ton of time to plan this out.” She paused. “Honestly, I don’t really even know your full story—”

“You won’t live to hear it,” Malevolent said with a smile.

“But that’s not the point,” May said, continuing quickly. “Don’t you think there’s a reason I called
you
? I’ve got something you need, and you’ve got . . . well, all this.” She gestured to the whole castle, magic, everything. “Which would be very useful to me right now.”

“And how would a child like you help me?” Malevolent said, smiling like a cat would smile at a mouse if cats smiled.

“Now, let’s not either of us get angry at what either of us says, okay?” May said, holding up her hands and backing away. “I mean, I know you weren’t thrilled with us when we left last time, but that’s what I can help with. You remember that prince who was with me—”

Flames flickered out of Malevolent’s eyes, and she growled, her mouth opening a bit too wide and dragony for May’s taste. “You wish to hasten your death, I see.”

“No, see, that’s where you’re not getting it!” May said, backing away faster. “I can help you with that! He’s my friend—he’ll listen to me, the prince!”

“You
both
will die by my hand!” Malevolent shouted.

“Okay, this isn’t exactly going how I hoped it would,” May said, her back slamming into the wall behind her. Well, this had been fun. Well done all around. “I thought you’d be more interested in surviving, but I can see that’s not high on your list.”

“Your little . . .
prince
. . . can do
nothing
to me!” Malevolent growled, her voice getting deeper as her skin began to glow.

“He might not be able to alone,” May said quietly, “but he found his princess.”

Malevolent’s eyes went wide, and suddenly she looked like a human again. “What? It . . . cannot be . . .”

“Oh, it can be,” May said, pushing forward. “It can be all
over
you if you don’t listen to me for a second. Sleeping Beauty. He woke her up. Probably looking for you right now, if I know Phillip. He likes going out and finding his giants, you know? Not really a guy to just relax at home.”

“The Mirror, it foresaw this,” Malevolent said, glancing all around. “Together, they will destroy me! I cannot . . . she promised!”

May started to say something, then paused. “Wait, who promised?”

Malevolent grabbed her by her shirt and held her in midair, the fairy queen’s pupilless eyes filled with terror. “You must save me! You must protect me!”

“That’s what I’ve been . . . I WILL protect you, you just need to do something for me first!”

Malevolent sneered, despite her fear. “You WILL protect me, or I will burn you here and now!”

“Do it,” May told her, then closed her eyes. “Fire me up, if you think that’s a smart plan. ’Cause Phillip and Penelope will just
love
seeing their friend turned to ash. That’ll calm them down and make sure they won’t attack, especially after you tortured him last time he was here.”

The fairy queen shrieked in rage, then dropped May to the floor. “What is it you want, you foul little beast?”

May stood back up and glared at Malevolent. “I want your help to make the Wicked Queen . . . go away.”

This, of all things, made Malevolent laugh. Not for long, and not very hard, but it was definitely a laugh. “I would sooner take my chances against the prince and his princess.”

“Fair enough,” May said, and turned to leave. “Good luck. I’d try it as a dragon, it’ll look better when they make the cartoon.”

Malevolent growled again, and grabbed May’s shoulder. “NO. I will help you. What is it you need?”

May turned back. “I need a way to fight her. A way to beat her, since I don’t have all that magic and stuff that you both seem to have been born with.”

“
She
is not a fairy kin,” Malevolent sneered. “Any magic she knows offends this world.”

“Help
me
offend the world too, then,” May said. “Whatever I need! I can’t let this go on any longer!”

“You could not learn enough magic to make a difference, not in a hundred years,” Malevolent told her. “Not such as you. But there might be . . . another way.”

“Another way—perfect!” May said. “What’s the other way?”

“A weapon against the Queen,” Malevolent said, turning around and swirling her hand as she hummed silently. A tiny glass ball appeared in the air and danced around.

“Perfect!” May said again, and grabbed for the ball, only to have her hand pass right through it.

“This is but an image,” Malevolent said, grinning annoyingly at May’s mistake. “I call it the Fairest, and it was hidden away many years ago.”

“The Fairest, huh?” May said, staring at the glass ball. “Well, it fits the Wicked Queen theme, I guess. So what does it do?”

“It is a weapon of sorts,” Malevolent said with a grin that May instantly didn’t trust. “Without it, you will surely perish.”

“That’s optimistic,” May said. “So where is it, and how do I use it when I find it?”

“Throw it at the Queen, and the glass ball will do the rest,” the fairy queen said, still smiling mockingly. Honestly, it was so irritating. “As to where it is . . . I can send you there.”

“Great,” May said, spreading her arms. “Let’s go!”

Malevolent’s eyes flamed up again, and May took a step back involuntarily. “I . . . cannot go to this place. My kind are barred from it, for we never sleep.”

“That’s . . . an odd end to that thought,” May said. “Wait, where is this place exactly?”

“You’ve been there,” Malevolent snapped. “Every night. All humans go there, but without physical form.”

“What, dreams?!” May said. “Those are just memories or
images from . . . oh, forget it. I’m so tired of correcting you people. This weapon of yours is in . . . dreams?”

“If that’s what you call it.”

“What would
you
call it?”

“The breakdown of all reality, a land subject to no rules save those of its lord, an all-powerful creature who rules your night-lands.”

“Let’s stick with dreams, just because it’s shorter. Okay, so
I
go find this Fairest thing in dreamland and bring it back? What kind of dream is it stuck within?”

Malevolent gritted her teeth once more. “If I knew that, I would know it because I traveled to these . . . dreams . . . and found the Fairest myself!”

“Well, so what do I do, just fall asleep?”

“You must enter the realm entirely, not just within your head, if you are to have any power of your own,” Malevolent said, then began to hum.

“Wait, you’re sending me there with my whole body?!” May said. “You know, dreams can be dangerous!”

Malevolent just smiled that truly irritating smile as everything began to swirl around, and the world disappeared.

CHAPTER 5

R
ise, my Eye,” the Wicked Queen said, and handed Jack the hilt of his sword. “I have need of something, and quickly. It’s but a tiny thing. One similar to a task I once set your father to.”

His father? Lian had claimed the man was here within the Wicked Queen’s lands, but this was the first he’d heard of him since. His father had worked for the Wicked Queen?!

Well, was that really so surprising, given that his sister was currently?

“What’s the task?” Jack said.

The Queen raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t going to ask what your father was doing, serving me?”

“I’ll find that out when I catch up to him. Just part of a lengthy chat we need to have.”

“There is a giant living in the clouds,” the Queen told him, watching him closely. “Your father tried to steal a few items from him but left something very important behind. I want that item.”

The giant. A lifetime of mockery, of pitying looks, of everyone associating Jack with his thieving father, came flooding back, and Jack had to grit his teeth to stay on topic.

“What kind of item are we talking about? It’s hard to steal something when you don’t know what it is.”

“A harp,” the Queen said. “A harp sculpted from gold, in the shape of a woman. Do not speak to her, as she speaks only in song, and her music might destroy you.”

“Destroy me?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “That’s . . . unusual for a harp, or am I wrong?”

“She was created by the fairy queens,” the Queen said, tapping a finger on her throne. She apparently wasn’t full of patience. “Her power rivals the Mirror’s, in her own way. Fortunately, that’s exactly the way in which I have need of her.”

“How big is this harp exactly?”

“No bigger than you are tall.”

“Oh. Should be pretty easy to carry while I’m running from giants, then.”

The Queen glared at him. “As soon as you’ve found her, play these chords.” She closed her eyes, and three loud tones sounded throughout the throne room. “Play those, and the harp’s magic shall bring you back here immediately.”

“And the giant?”

The Queen finally smiled. “For that, you’ll need to see an . . .
ally of mine. Follow my light.” She held out a hand, palm up, and a little bolt of blue exploded over and over just above it. The bolt of blue floated out of her hand and back out the hall the way Jack had come.

Jack started to follow the bolt of blue, then turned to look at the Queen one more time. “This harp . . . and you help me get away from all of this. Right?”

“Do what I say, and you shall have all that you desire,” the Queen said, her smile widening.

“Well, that sounded purposefully vague,” Jack muttered, then followed the bolt of blue out the door.

The bolt led him up stairs and down hallways, twisting and turning until Jack wasn’t sure he could find his way out, though that wasn’t any different from how he’d come into the castle. Far too late he wondered if he should try a trick a boy from Giant’s Hand had once taught him: leaving bread crumbs behind you in order to find your way home if you got lost.

There were only two problems with that plan. Problem number one: Animals tended to eat the bread crumbs, so it didn’t work so well in woods. Fortunately, that wasn’t so much a problem here. Unfortunately, that led to problem number two: Jack had no bread crumbs.

It was a sad day when you couldn’t even pull off a plan doomed to fail.

The bolt led him on, twisting and turning farther than the Queen’s castle could possibly have extended. At times, he was sure he was hundreds of feet above ground, maybe even in the highest towers of the castle. At other times, it felt like he had ended up deep underground.

He briefly wondered if the Queen would come looking for him if he never came out.

Then he even more briefly wondered if the bolt of blue was purposely trying to get him lost.

Fortunately, before he could wonder if the bolt was mocking him with its bolting, it exploded onto a wooden door, which unlocked at the explosion. Jack opened the door to find another, this one made of iron, also unlocking at his touch. A third made of steel, a fourth made of brick (very heavy), and a fifth made of bone all unlocked as he reached out for them.

Finally, behind the fifth door, a large room opened before him, one shaft of light shining on the dead center of the room. Jack glanced up at the light source and found none. There was no hole in the roof or anything.

A bit odd.

The sourceless light shone on more steel and iron, this time in bar form. Or maybe more accurately, in cage form, steel and iron intertwining playfully in gradually smaller and smaller cages, one inside the other.

Jack slowly approached the cages, expecting them to unlock just as the door had, but no lock tumblers tumbled. In fact, all he could hear was someone slowly breathing, watching as he came closer. Okay, he didn’t
hear
the person watching, but that was hardly an important detail at this point.

Someone was breathing, and that same person was watching him.

“Hello?” Jack said.

“Hello, boy,” said a tired, gravelly voice. “You’re late.”

That’s when Jack saw him, a man hunched over in the very middle of the cages, iron cuffs on his wrists and ankles, barely able to move, by the looks of things.

“Father?” Jack said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Are you asking? Because any boy of mine shouldn’t have to.”

Jack nodded. “Just making sure.”

And with that, he took his sword off his back and threw it straight at the tiny spot that led all the way through the bars of the cage, straight at his father’s chest.

The sword hit something glowing and translucent, and a hand grabbed it before it could hit the ground.

“Don’t you just love family reunions?” Jill said, a sword in each hand.

CHAPTER 6

P
hillip stood with his arms folded behind his back, covered by his royal vestments, staring out the window. Beyond the glass, adventure waited. Beyond the glass lay creatures of all-encompassing evil, and warmth that would make a shadow smile. Beyond the glass was his destiny.

His destiny to sacrifice himself for May, fighting against the Wicked Queen.

“Your Princeness,” said a boy not much younger than Phillip and holding a pig. “Did you hear me? I said my pig can see the future, and he warns of terrible things!”

The pig oinked in agreement, and Phillip sighed.

“What does it see?” said a dazed voice from behind him. “What
kinds
of terrible things?”

A girl with hair of bronze, wearing a dress woven from golden thread by hand, no spinning wheels, leaned forward to put her ear next to the pig’s dirt-covered snout and listened intensely, nodding every few seconds. “Phillip,” she whispered, still nodding. “You really should hear this!”

Just beyond the glass. Would it be so wrong to leave once more? To forsake his duties, to leave his kingdom and . . . everything that came with it? To once more find his destiny under a full moon and a hungry sun, his sword gleaming like a star?!

“Seriously, I think you might want to listen to this,” Penelope said with a frown. “HOW big?”

The pig oinked, and the boy nodded. “See what I mean, Your Princessness? Dark tidings are on the wind, and you’d be wise to heed the warnings of my pig here!”

“Thank you, Pig Keeper,” Phillip said, and placed a few gold coins in the boy’s hand.

The boy’s eyes went wide as he felt the weight of the gold, even as he absently corrected his prince. “Uh, Assistant Pig Keeper, actually. But, my Princeness, what did I do to deserve—”

“Use it to give your divining friend a grand meal and have one yourself,” Phillip said, patting the boy on his shoulder as he led him toward the door. “Mother, who’s next?”

“That’s it for today, darling,” said a woman seated on an intricate opal throne, dressed in a dress very similar to Penelope’s, only with elaborate stitching in silver. This woman feared neither spinning wheel nor evil fairy queen but still managed to love her son as warmly as her now-deceased husband. “Well, for your subjects. But there’s still the matter of the wedding.”

She may love him warmly, but she also could stop Phillip’s heart with one word.

“I believe I am late for . . .” Phillip began, then froze at any possible lie. Why could he not tell even the simplest untruth, even to his own mother?!

“For what?” his mother said, her gaze filled with as much steel as her dress was with silver. It was not a lightweight piece of clothing, yet nothing would so much as stoop this woman.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Penelope said, grabbing Phillip’s hand and pulling him toward the door. “He meant to say he’s late to take me into town, like he’s been promising since we got here. Today’s finally the day! You’re welcome to come, we’re just going to see . . . well, the entire thing.”

“That sounds . . . lovely, dear,” Phillip’s mother said. “I will leave you two to it, however, as I have seen the town before, once or twice.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Penelope said, and a minute later they were alone in the courtyard.

Phillip smiled at Penelope in thanks, and gently removed his hand from hers. “Did I really promise that?”

Penelope looked up with a shocked expression. “Of COURSE! Are you accusing me of lying to your mother?!”

Phillip instantly blushed red. “Of course not, I am deeply sorry that I even—”

And then Penelope laughed. “I like that color you turn. It makes you look like a tomato. A very dignified tomato. A tomato above all other tomatoes, one that rules his garden with a squishy iron fist.”

Phillip blinked at that, unsure what to say and even more unsure how they had ended up outside the castle gates with two guards smiling evilly at him as Penelope somehow had his hand again, dragging him farther into the city. How did the girl
do
that—turn off his mind so easily?

“Where first?” she asked, her head bobbing around to look at everything.

“I, uh, had not really planned on an outing tonight,” Phillip said, then shrugged. It was preferable to speaking to his mother about the wedding. “How about the marketplace? It is quite something to see, and it might give me the opportunity to drop my sword off at the blacksmith to be sharpened.”

“In case we meet a dragon or something,” Penelope said, looking up at him with her eyes barely open. The girl seemed perpetually either on the brink of falling asleep or as if she had just woken up. Phillip was never quite sure if he had her full attention, and if he did not, what that might look like.

The citizens of the town of Tailorsville nodded respectfully to their prince, as well as the mysterious princess who had arrived with Phillip three months earlier, claiming to be the long-lost princess of a neighboring kingdom, destroyed during the war. Penelope had no family left and had never known them . . . in fact, she had grown up without knowing many humans at all, living in the Fairy Homelands, surrounded by some of the most magical and oddly incomprehensible creatures Phillip had ever met.

He was beginning to see where Penelope might have picked up some of her habits.

The marketplace rumbled with activity, with calls of breads for sale, customers haggling with shopkeepers, farmers showing off their wares, and children running everywhere.

A few children screamed in delight from the opposite side of the market as Phillip strode purposefully toward the blacksmith, Penelope at times behind him and at other times in front. He wasn’t sure how the girl moved, as he never seemed to see her. It was as if she just . . . appeared wherever he was not looking. Strange.

“You don’t like this idea of a wedding, do you?” she said while feeling a magical cloak of rain deflection. “Hmm, smooth! But why would someone not want to be rained on?”

Phillip started to answer the first question, then the second, then decided the first was more pertinent and a question that needed to be answered. “Penelope,” he said, taking the princess by the shoulders and gently turning her around to face him. “You are correct. I do
not
like the idea of this wedding. Our parents betrothed us at a very early age—”

“Well, to be fair, I’m apparently your true love,” Penelope said, making a half-disgusted face at him. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to kiss me awake back when that Eye girl hit me with a spindle, putting me and everyone close by asleep. And somehow making vines grow. Huge vines. I didn’t get that part. So I must be your true love, which is good to know, in case someone sets the sleeping curse off again. Oh, I see we’re back to dignified tomato?”

“Yes, well,” Phillip said, and pulled her into the shadow of the blacksmith’s booth. The children’s delighted screams echoed closer, as if they were moving in this direction. “I do not know that there is anything to that, beyond the silly belief of some old-fashioned fairy queens—”

“Don’t say such things about my sisters,” Penelope said, staring a bit more intently at him, though still with her half-closed eyes. “Even if I am your true love, it doesn’t mean that
you
are
mine
. And I never
asked
you to fall in love with me.”

“I did NOT do any such thing!” Phillip shouted. The children seemed to be screaming in his head now, as if they were everywhere. What was causing all this commotion?!

“Well, then this must all be a dream, and I never woke up,” Penelope said with a shrug. “Listen, I’m sorry I don’t feel the same way about you—”

“YOU do not feel the same about—that is not the point!”

A girl of about four years of age shrieked in his ear, and for a moment, the prince lost his dignity, if just a bit. “If you are quite through?!” he said, turning to the girl.

And that’s when he saw a monkey dressed like a pirate, robbing the poor blacksmith while a small group of children waved and shouted encouragement. The blacksmith looked from Phillip to the monkey and back, almost pleading with his eyes.

“YOU?!” Phillip said to the monkey.

The monkey shrieked in joy and threw himself at Phillip, hugging his most likely vermin-infested body against Phillip’s chest. Finally, it looked at Phillip and held out a lock of bright blue hair.

“Malevolent,” the monkey shrieked.

The pirate monkey. Phillip’s bit of magic that he had arranged, just in case May ever found herself in danger. The monkey had been put under a spell by his court magician to appear to Phillip instantly if May’s life was ever threatened.

Apparently the town was as far as the magic had taken it.

Phillip was halfway across the market before either the monkey or Penelope caught up. Finally. This was the moment the Wicked Queen must have seen. This was the moment Phillip had been born for.

And it would be the most noble of deaths.