Godmother Read online

  “On to business,” she said. “I recall you said that you would give anything to have your revenge. I can make that wish a reality, for a price.”

  I stared into her eyes, noticing for the first time that there were no whites only solid pools of black. “How?”

  She floated around me as she spoke. “Your mother had certain talents. Power. The sort that most of your ignorant kind fear. The sort that does not dissipate upon death. She bound me to her will to share my power, now she bids me help you.”

  She drifted toward the house and as she neared it the door swung open on its own. The woman slipped inside. I stumbled in after her. I found her in the kitchen and immediately leapt onto the table. The floor around her was a shifting, swirling storm of hundreds of rats.

  “Oh, don’t fear my little birdies. They won’t harm you. Now, as your godmother, your mother has commanded me to help you, but I do nothing without a price. If you want your revenge pledge to pay the cost I choose and I will grant your wish.”

  I stared at the tumbling swarm of rats. “Name your price.”

  “No.”

  I felt the anger rise in my throat. “No? What do you mean no? You just said you’ll help me.”

  “Help you I shall.” The room felt colder when she smiled. “But I won’t tell you my price. You said anything. I must know you were sincere. Agree now, and I will come to you later to collect whatever payment I choose. If your words were true it should matter not what I ask.”

  “I’ll do it,” I said. I didn’t need to think it over. I wanted revenge more than anything, and if I were willing to give my own life there was nothing else this ‘godmother’ could ask of me. She laughed softly and a frost crept over the window panes.

  “Wonderful,” she said. “Follow me, girl. Oh, and would you be so kind as to bring along that pumpkin?” She indicated an old, rotting pumpkin that I had been meaning to use to fertilize the garden. I scooped it up and followed my godmother and her rats through the house and out the front door.

  “Place the pumpkin over there,” she commanded.

  I set it in the road where she indicated. “What is that for?”

  “That, girl, is the coach that will bear you to the ball.” She waved her hand and a flicker of shadow swallowed the pumpkin. Where it receded stood a magnificent gilded coach. I blinked hard, unsure if the pumpkin had ever been there at all. “How do you like your dress?” she asked.

  I looked down and found I was clothed in a beautiful evening gown. I twirled and my skirts danced around me, the dark azure of a clear sky studded with the twinkle of starlight floating around my hips.

  My godmother whistled and a pack of albino rats raced from the house. As they ran past they shifted and crackled, bubbled and grew until they were a team of destriers. They were white as ash, save for their eyes which burned red as hellfire. Next a small lizard crawled from the brush and was shaped and sculpted by the shadows into a tall, dark footman clad in ebony breeches.

  Lastly the largest of the rats came forth, a great hulking mass of fur and teeth. He stood and stretched and grew, bent and chiseled by the umber until he was the size and rough shape of a man. He was still covered in fur, his face an abomination obscured by the brim of his hat and the collar of his long coat.

  Reaching back, the beast ripped its tail from its back spraying the ground in inky blood. It coiled its severed appendage into a whip and climbed aboard the carriage as its coachman.

  “I grant you these favors until the stroke of midnight tonight,” my godmother said. “At that time any gifts that have not drank of a royal’s blood will return to me. You will need these as well.” With one hand she presented me a dark blue raven’s head mask, with the other a black dagger. “This blade is my covenant with you. Keep it well.”

  I donned the mask then took the knife from her. It was similar to my mother’s, but different. Longer. More slender. It fit perfectly in my hand as though it were made for me and me alone. In fact it’s this dagger here. See how it doesn’t even reflect the candle light?

  I slid it beneath the sash of my gown and, guided by my godmother’s cold hands, stepped up into the carriage.

  “Go now, child. Go and spill blood.”

  The driver cracked his whip and the destriers charged down the road. The cool air as I held my head out the window of the coach felt better than any other breeze I had ever felt. I savored that moment. Even the scent of rotting meat wafting from the coachman couldn’t mar my elation.

  I slipped in and out of reverie, playing over the deed a thousand different ways. The twist of my knife. The warmth of his blood. The rasp of his last breath. Each drifted through my mind with countless variations. The exquisite agony that bastard would feel. Tonight would be the best night of my life and the last he would draw breath. Before I knew it I was at the castle gates.

  The coachman deposited me at the steps to the palace. The guards seemed displeased at my late arrival but said nothing. I was directed through the entry to the doors leading to the grand ballroom. As it was a costume party there were no announcers. The servants opened the doors, and I stepped in.

  The room itself was more splendid than I ever could have imagined. Everything glittered and shone, the walls themselves were gilded and jeweled. Crystal chandeliers sparkled above the dance floor where hundreds of young women twirled and cavorted with young men from the palace.

  Each man had been tasked with evaluating the young ladies for the Prince, who also took turns dancing with those who pleased his eye. Occasionally one of the men would lead his dancing partner off to one of the darker corners to prove their worth as a bed warmer.

  The Prince was across the room when he saw me. I’ll never know if it was the enchanted dress my godmother had bestowed upon me or my own figure which enthralled him, but the strumpet he was fondling was dumped to the floor like the trash she was and he came to meet me.

  “Would you care to dance, milady?” he asked. He extended his hand and took my own, pulling me to the dance floor. He was tall and strong with broad shoulders and hair black as coal. I had heard tales of his bravery in the wars with the lands to the East and his arms were hard from hours spent with sword and shield.

  We didn’t speak as we danced, there was no need. The floor cleared as we twisted and spun and the faces of those that watched us melted into the whirling blur of the hall. The Prince’s hands appraised my womanly assets and my heart began to race, half from the fear that his firm grip would find the hilt of my hidden dirk and half from his warm lips on my neck.

  He stepped back as the song ended, his enthusiasm undeniable. His hand wrapped tight around my own and he turned to lead me to where the King sat. The room broke into applause at our frolic, but I was deaf to all but the pounding of my heart. This was it.

  The Prince lifted me up the steps to the platform that held the thrones of the King and Queen. He fell to his knee. “I have chosen my favorite, Father. This enchanting creature is the one I want as my head concubine.”

  My fingers curled. Two guards flanked the throne and I was still a measure away. If I rushed him I thought I may have been able to strike before they could intercede. I would have to time this perfectly.

  “You are certain of this decision?” the King asked. His glare peeled away my gown and his lips spread to show a rotten yellow grin.

  “I am.”

  “You’ve made a fine choice. Guards, escort her to my chambers.”

  It was all I could do to suppress the laughter that bubbled up my throat. I would be alone with him, all alone! No need to spoil the ball with my work. This would be sweet.

  He must’ve mistaken my elation for fear. He laughed. “Don’t worry my dear. You will be able to spend quality time with the Prince soon. It would be irresponsible of me as a father to present you to my son without first sampling your fruits myself.”

  The two guards took me by the arms as the King rose. My escorts directed me after him through a small door behind the thrones. The walk s
eemed to take an eternity through twisting halls and endless staircases. Finally we arrived at the rosewood door to the royal chambers.

  The King entered and I was thrust through the doorway after him by the guards. The heavy door slammed shut behind me. A scattering of candles and sconces threw flickering shadows around the room dominated by the glowing embers of the hearth. An enormous canopied bed occupied the center of the chamber draped in purple silk curtains and delicate sheets.

  The Queen sat on the bed covered only by the sheets and a smile. The King kissed her deeply before turning his attention back to me. “The Queen enjoys sampling our son’s little pets as much as I do. She’ll help you out of your gown while I get comfortable.”

  The Queen slid off the bed and came to my side. Her lips brushed the edges of my ear as her fingers teased at the shoulders of my dress. The King turned to warm himself at the coals as he began removing his layers.

  “Be as loud as you like,” he said. “You won’t be heard. In fact, I would enjoy it much more if you didn’t hold back. I love the screaming.” He tossed his doublet onto a chair in the corner. “You know, you have such beautiful hair. It reminds me of a lovely little thing I saw some years ago.”

  One of the Queen’s arms slid around my waist and met the hard hilt of my godmother’s gift. “What’s this?” she asked. I replied honestly.

  “A knife.”

  I clamped one hand over her mouth and with the other drew the obsidian blade from my sash to dance across her throat. Her blood was warm as it burst from the gash. The King turned just in time to see her body fall to the newly stained carpet.

  He opened his mouth to shout and tried to take a step backward but he had left his breeches around his ankles. The wind left him as he landed heavily on his back and I was on him before he could recover. My heel fell hard on his exposed manhood and as he screamed I seized his tongue and cut it free.

  “I can’t have you calling the guards in to interrupt our fun. Now you can be as loud as you like. In fact, I would enjoy it much more if you didn’t hold back. I love the screaming.”

  I fed the coals with the King’s tongue. I didn’t want to get cold while I worked. He did scream. At least, when I could keep him conscious. It was such a wonderful sound. He listened to every detail I could recount of my father. Perhaps I shouldn’t have rambled so much but I couldn’t help it.

  There was no way to tell but I would guess it was an hour, perhaps two before he left me. It was a little disappointing. I’d wanted to play until dawn. My toy broken, I stood to survey my work.

  Very little of the room was not bathed in crimson. My lovely dress was even more lovely now that it had been washed in the blood of royalty. I was dripping in gore from my baptism in his majestic viscera. It was a beautiful mess.

  I had long envisioned plunging my dagger into his heart in the crowded ballroom and savoring my revenge in the scant moments before I was cut down by the palace guards. Never had I dreamed of having the chance to do things slowly and secretly - let alone that I would have the chance to survive. My thoughts turned to the best way to slip away unnoticed.

  Of course if I strolled back into the ball resplendently draped in royal entrails my life would end as swiftly as the Queen’s had. I carefully opened the door to the hall just enough to peer through the crack. The two guards who had escorted us there were posted at the far end. I might have been able to slip out unnoticed, but then where? I had never been to the palace before. It would be less hassle to turn myself in than to wander the halls blindly for an escape.

  That option gone I turned my attention back to the room. The single door was the one that led to the hall. I went to the window by the hearth and pushed it open. The night air was cool and the moon was high and full. At least four stories below I could see the front esplanade lined with coaches.

  I ran to the bed and pulled off the sheets. Sodden as they were the fabric was far too delicate to make a sturdy rope. No sooner had I tied it to the bed post and given it a sturdy tug than it ripped in half. I had to find something stronger.

  I returned to my disassembled toy and picked his intestines up from the rug. I bound one end to the bed post and gave it a tug. It was slippery but it held. I slung one end over the bed canopy and hung from it, testing my weight. It held!

  I pulled the ends back down and flung them from the window. They left red streaks upon the stones as they tumbled down. It only reached halfway. I pulled them back into the chambers and set to work on the Queen. Her body was stiff but didn’t offer much resistance. I knotted her entrails to the King’s and hurled my new rope through the window. It looked like it would do.

  Carefully I slid backward through the window one leg at a time. As I pulled my second leg through my foot caught fast on the edge. I worked and twisted and finally wrenched it free, but my slipper tumbled off into the mess that was once a King.

  I couldn’t crawl back through the window, so I left it. The climb down was tortuous. Several times I slipped and barely stopped myself from being dashed upon the ground below. The feel of the soft grass finally tickling my single unshod foot was sweet. I raced to my carriage at the front of the lines. Behind me I could hear men shouting, but I didn’t stop to see if it was for me.

  I had barely slammed the door of the coach when the driver cracked his bloody whip and sent the team of destriers pounding through the gates. I had done it! Laughter burst from my lips, loud and cackling and free. I had done it! That filthy bastard had paid for his crimes. Finally, Father could rest at ease.

  My step-mother and her daughters hadn’t returned yet. I leapt from the carriage just as the church bells began to toll midnight. I would have to clean up before the others came back. The final bell tolled and I looked back at the carriage.

  It was gone. Only the rotten pumpkin lay in the drive. Beside it were a dead lizard and a large dead rat, its tail severed and clutched in its tiny fist. I looked down to make sure my dress remained and immediately clutched my side for the dagger. I wouldn’t have cared if I had been standing naked and bloody on the lawn, but losing the dagger would have killed me. They both remained.

  I ran inside and stripped naked in the foyer. The dress and mask were fed to the fire along with a few more logs to build the flames. The knife I wrapped carefully in rags before I hid it deep within my nest in the corner. Then I raced into the courtyard, giggling the whole way and dove into the pond.

  The water and the moonlight felt wonderful on my skin. When I was done playing and convinced the blood had been washed away I returned inside to dry and dress. The fire was roaring and there was no trace left of the lovely gown. It disappointed me a little, I would have rather kept my bloody souvenir. If they ever found it though it would have been the death of me.

  The three whores returned in a fluster. The Prince had ended the ball early and sent everyone away. They said one gorgeous girl had been taken away by the King, but after a few hours the Prince had ordered everyone out and hadn’t even selected any consorts. Despondent and exhausted they quickly retired to bed, leaving me to dream in peace of vengeance fulfilled.

  The next few days were unnervingly uneventful. I expected uproar at the assassination of the King and Queen, but there was none. It was announced that the King had died suddenly of a flux of bad humors and that the Queen had died of grief in his passing. The Prince commanded the kingdom to spend the next month in mourning and announced that the royal burial would take place in three days.

  I was in the kitchen preparing that evening’s stew when I heard the pounding on the front door. My step-mother was in the drawing room practicing her needlework, so she called her eldest to answer.

  “Mother! It’s the Prince!” she squealed.

  The spoon I was holding clattered to the floor. I raced to the kitchen door to peer into the foyer. The Prince was standing in the doorway with several knights at his back. He held a small box under one arm. My step-mother beckoned him in and she and the girls knelt. They were speaking too qu
ietly for me to make out what was being said. The Prince presented the box and opened it and I had to cover my mouth to stop from screaming.

  Inside the box was my lost blood-stained slipper.

  He’d come to find the person who owned the slipper. He’d come to find the person that murdered the King and Queen. I started to run for the door but stopped. My knife! I couldn’t just leave it there. Before I could figure out what to do the kitchen door burst open and the three women poured in.

  “This is your chance!” my step-mother whispered to her girls. “I know that slipper’s not yours, but if you can cram your ugly feet in there you’ll be set for life.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “The Prince is here,” the eldest said. “The woman he wanted more than anyone at the ball left her slipper. When he finds the woman it fits he’s going to make her the head consort.”

  “I’ll go out with you first,” their mother said indicating Anastasia. “You’re the eldest. Then if you can’t make it fit I’ll come back for you Druzella. One of you has to make this work.”

  She grabbed her eldest daughter and pulled her back out of the kitchen into the foyer, leaving me with the youngest. We ran to the door to watch through the crack. My step-mother sat Anastasia in front of the Prince and one of the knights attempted to place the shoe on her.

  “It’s not working,” Druzella said. “Her feet are too big. It’s hopeless, mine are even bigger.”

  “Maybe not. Sit down.”

  I couldn’t let them try the shoe on me. I didn’t think my step-mother would allow it, but if they found out I was back there before they’d found a fit then I wasn’t sure she could stop them.

  “What are you doing?” Druzella asked as I shoved her onto the kitchen stool.

  “I’m making your foot fit.”