Roses & Thorns (20 page)

"Don't
tell, Ivan. She's all we have!" Phillip whined from the shadows near the
staircase.

Without
turning from Ivan, Drew extended her hand. Black-gloved fingers, long and
menacingly mean, pinched the air as if squashing a bug. Phillip screamed again
as ceramic plates, crystal vases and a variety of other earthenware shattered
all around him. Something against Ivan’s chest popped with a sickening sound
and he scrabbled in his clothing, his fingers coming back empty. Drew had
crushed Marguerite’s talisman where it had hung about his neck.

"Now
give me what is mine or I will begin to pull you limb from limb... and you can
imagine which member I’ll begin with."

Ivan
looked stricken. Drew turned to Phillip. "Bring her!"

"The
— the key!" Phillip pointed frantically to his brother. "He has the
key!"

Ivan
had just begun to pull it from his vest when it vanished.

"And
now you have it," Drew’s faceless voice corrected Phillip. "Fetch
her.
Now!"

The
younger man scrambled up the stairs on all fours.

Marguerite
groaned. Ivan looked to Drew; she shook her head, but backed up a little so
that she could keep them both in sight. Upstairs, a door crashed open and
footsteps rushed overhead. A moment later, Angelique all but flew down the
stairs.

"Drew!"

Drew
shifted the sword to her right hand and extended the left. Angelique melted
against her. Without taking her eyes from the others, Drew asked, "Are you
all right? Have they hurt you?"

"No.
I’m fine. You came — you could come?" Angelique laughed brokenly, fingers
running along the edges of the crimson cowl. Angelique lifted her hands toward
the cowl and paused, asking permission. Drew nodded once. Angelique pushed the
cloak away and beamed into Drew's familiar face.

Phillip,
who had crept down the stairs after Angelique, let loose a shocked cry. Ivan
shouted, "No! It can't be. You're her Liege?
You
?” But Angelique
only smiled and kissed Drew boldly on the mouth.

Marguerite
groaned and sat up. Drew looked to the woman and started. Angelique felt a
tremor run through Drew's body.

"What
is it?" Angelique asked.

But
Drew just stared.

Marguerite
turned her face fully toward the couple and smiled slowly. Taking her time, she
brushed her hair from her face and dabbed at the cut the tapestry frame had
made on her forehead. "Ah, Drew," she breathed. "We meet again
at last."

Angelique
looked from one to the other, confused. Then, slowly, realization dawned.

Marguerite
rose, a bit unsteadily at first, then more confidently. "Did you think I
could forget you? You and all your sins? Did you think I would actually let you
achieve some sort of a normal life? Experience love? That after all this time I
wouldn't be watching?" She laughed. It ended in a shriek that sent Phillip
running up the stairs again.

Ivan
cocked his head at her. She looked at him. "Ivan, dear boy. Don't think I
don’t love you. You are... sweet. But you were just a useful pawn in a much,
much larger game."

He
colored dangerously and took a step towards her. "What —"

Marguerite
cut him off with a wave of her hand and he slumped down, unconscious. She
turned back to Drew.

Drew
faced to Angelique and said quietly, "You stand aside. I don’t want you
hurt."

"How
very touching," Marguerite remarked. "When I found you were still
living it was an unexpected surprise. When I heard you'd taken a... concubine,
I decided to come and have a look for myself. How convenient that Ivan just
happened to need a wife, one with some knowledge of," she paused and spat,
"business."

Her
grin grew wicked. "So, Drew, has your heart grown cold and bitter during
your many years of imprisonment? Haven't those vile passions of youth tainted
all your ambitions? Surely you're not still confined to simply controlling one
insignificant wench at a time? How much time have you given over to planning
your revenge? Against me? Against my daughter, the very one you thought loved
you, as if such an act were possible? Love you?" She laughed again as
though she found this thought too comic for words.

"Drew,"
Angelique's voice pierced the cackling laughter. "Don't listen to
her."

But
Drew stood as if caught in a dream. She had cocked her head a little to one
side and was looking at Marguerite with a strange half-smile on her face.

"I
love you, Drew." Angelique cried. "From the moment we met. And I have
pledged myself
willingly
to you. Please, Drew, don't listen."

Marguerite
looked at Angelique as if seeing her for the first time. "Pledged yourself
willingly? To a magickian? To a woman? Don’t be a fool, child. There is no such
thing as free will in the company of such a monster."

"You
lie!" Angelique shrieked.

"Why
would I lie, child? I have nothing to gain."

"Nothing
to gain but my eternal imprisonment," Drew said suddenly. "And isn't
that what you wanted all along? Or was I just a convenient means to an end? You
wanted my father’s wealth and you knew I found your daughter beautiful. I was
an easy puppet to play, wasn’t I? So young and naive, having grown up in a
country where nothing was denied me, yet nothing truly given me either."

Drew
took a step toward Marguerite and then another. When they were almost face to
face, Drew said, "It’s funny, but I thought you were... taller. You seemed
much more menacing to me when I was hardly more than a child. But now, you are
a foolish old woman, still playing at childish games. You have no power over me
any longer, Marguerite."

The
woman laughed. "Oh, but I do." She lifted her hand and a whirlwind
erupted in the middle of the room, sending chairs, broken crockery and
half-burned candles whipping through the air. Angelique cried out and took
refuge behind an overturned table, peeking out to keep her beloved in sight.

Drew
had not moved, but stood in the center of the maelstrom, blood-red cloak
unfurled like a flag. For a long time, the wind shrieked in the house and
Marguerite laughed. Angelique, understanding for the first time how terrible
Marguerite must have seemed to a younger Drew, felt her own rage bubbling up
inside her. She poured her love out into Drew, opened her heart so that her own
beloved could feel it washing over her like summer sunshine and springtime
rain. And for a moment, the wind seemed to pause.

Drew
turned her head a little and Angelique could see the beginning of a smile cross
those fine lips. Then Drew bent her attention to the woman standing across from
her. She lifted her hand toward Marguerite and the woman lifted from the floor.

Shrieking
in indignant surprise, Marguerite struggled, but Drew closed her hand into a
fist and the struggling stopped.

"You
made one fatal mistake," Drew said, her voice lifting above the renewed
rise of wind. "You never anticipated that someone would love me, would
give herself to me and embrace the whole of who I am. And because Angelique has
done just that, your curse has been nullified. It’s over Marguerite. And I have
won."

The
woman glared, but Drew held her tightly. Lightening flashed and thunder boomed
in the room. Still Drew did not falter. She lifted her other hand and shouted
something into the rising storm.

Still
held aloft, Marguerite began to age and wither; all the years that had passed
since their last meeting suddenly caught up with the witch as Drew pealed away
the woman's spell of longevity. In moments, Marguerite had become nothing more
than dust that fell to the floor amid the broken crockery and fire’s ash, and
at last the magick winds faltered and died.

For
a long moment, there was a terrible quiet in the room. Slowly, Drew turned
toward Angelique and extended her hand. The young woman rose from her hiding
place and came into her lover’s arms.

"What
did you do?" Angelique asked.

"I
took away her powers," Drew said gently. "She was hundreds of years
old. Once mortal again...."

Angelique
shivered. She looked at her brother, Ivan, crumpled like a doll in the corner.
"What of him?"

Drew
shrugged. "Would you like me to turn him into a toad?"

Angelique
laughed. "Can you really?"

Drew
winked.

"No.
I think it would be better to leave him. We never have to see them again, do
we?"

"No.
You never have to come here again, beloved," Drew replied.

"But,"
Angelique began. Her eyes went to the staircase and her mothers rooms beyond.

"I
think there is a solution to that problem as well," Drew said.

Upstairs,
Angelique knelt at her mothers bedside, Drew close behind her, while the nurse
stood wide-eyed to one side.

"I
fear they poisoned her the other day to distract me from Aloysius' death and to
give them a chance to steal the brooch."

Drew
stepped to the side of the bed. Lifting one hand, she let it move over the
woman’s frail body several inches above the quiet form. After a moment, Drew
said, "She has been ill. And you were right. It was from a mild sort of
poison. But she is safely through it now."

"And
if they should try again?" Angelique breathed.

"You
worry so much, my child," her mother whispered, coming fully awake.
"Why should I want to live forever?"

"Mama,
this is Drew."

Drew
knelt beside the bed as the woman said, "At last. My daughter's fine
magickian."

Drew
offered a hesitant smile. "I hope you approve."

"I
do." The old woman's eyes fluttered as if they might close.

"Madam?"
Cautiously, Drew took the woman's hand in hers. "I have something to ask
of you."

"If
I can grant your wish, I will," the old woman allowed, eyes coming open
again.

"You
are not safe here. And I know it would make Angelique very happy if you would
agree to come and live with us."

"Ah,
the palace of wonders and strong wishing spells."

"The
very same. There is a way for you to make the journey."

"A
magickal way?"

Drew
smiled. "A very magickal way. You have only to pledge yourself to me and
it can be so."

A
faint laugh, then, "I willingly pledge myself to one so gentle," she
answered, her voice soft with sincerity.

To
Angelique, Drew said, "You are witness to this oath." Angelique
nodded. After a pause, Drew straightened and called, "Culdun."

The
nurse fainted with a sharp cry and a thump as the Old One stepped into the room
from nowhere. He noted her with a sigh. "My Liege?"

"Angelique's
mother is to return with us."

Culdun
smiled and shook his head at Angelique's worried expression. "I've seen
the ailment before, Mistress. I won't break her." Angelique nodded.
Gingerly, he picked up the woman and stepped through the magickal portal again.

They
made their way back downstairs. At the hearth, Drew bent and retrieved
something from the ashes. "This belongs to me, I think." She held up
the two bits of the ivory broach. A few words later and it was whole again and
unblemished.

Angelique
let out a breath in relief. "I'd thought for certain they had destroyed it."

"It
takes a great deal more than a mortal's hand and witch's fire to destroy a bit
of a not-so-mortal soul, my love."

Drew
reached for Angelique's hand again and they crossed the threshold together. The
stallion neighed, head tossing and hoof pawing the cobblestones. Somewhere, a
meadowlark began to sing. "Dawn is breaking," Angelique observed and
shivered once.

"There
is time enough." Drew sheathed her sword, mounted and lifted Angelique up
before her. "Do you imagine my powers are solely limited by the mere
cycling of night and day, beloved?"

Drew
kissed Angelique gently. As they drew apart, Angelique stroked the soft curve
of her lover's cheek, but said nothing. There was nothing left to say.

Drew
pulled her heels into the stallion’s sides. With a leap, he lunged through the
shimmering portal.

The
meadowlarks trilled. In the east, the sun crested over the distant roofs and
broke apart in glorious shafts of molten gold to touch the fields beyond. And
far away, another sun rose upon two lovers, safe now and forever in their own
timeless haven.

The
End

About
the Author

Before
her untimely death from cancer in July, 1997, Chris Anne Wolfe had published
four novels, including the rousing Amazon adventure stories
Shadows of Aggar
and
Fires of Aggar.

The
story of
Beauty and the Beast
was always a favorite of hers and she was
quite proud to see her unique and moving interpretation of the story in print.
Her beautiful illustrations complete Angelique and Drew's magical journey.