Of Fairytales and Magic by Emma Hamm

Chapter 18

Her cheek was cold. Why was it cold? Freya remembered falling asleep on a comfortable bed, not a floor.

Groaning, she lifted her head only to feel a splitting pain trail down the base of her skull and into her spine. Though it hurt, the pain gave her a small sense of awareness. Awareness she desperately needed, considering she had no idea where she was. Who she was. What she was?

Freya pressed her hands onto the smooth stone floor and hauled herself onto her hands and knees. Once stable, she blinked through the grit in her eyes.

White and black checkers danced in her hazy vision. She didn’t remember a floor like this, and she didn’t think she’d been here for very long. After all, this place was... It was...

Her thoughts paused. She couldn’t remember what this place was at all, could she? Her memory had been wiped clean, like someone had washed her mind with the floor.

She trailed her fingers in between the two colors but couldn’t find a seam. Stranger and stranger.

No matter where she was, she had to stand up. Freya knew sitting on the floor would not help her find out what had happened or where she had fallen.

And she must have fallen. Why else would she be on the floor?

She staggered to her feet and held her arms out at her sides. Strange, she felt odd. Like there was supposed to be something in her head, only she couldn’t quite find it. Unusual, but she didn’t think she should worry about it. Or at least, a voice whispered in her head not to worry. Was it even in her head?

She smoothed her hands down her stomach, only to find that her body was covered with a beautiful gown. White as snow, the crystalized bodice hid many iridescent colors that shimmered as she moved. A large skirt puffed out from her waist like a cloud of mist that moved with her. Was she a princess?

That was a silly thought. She giggled and shook her head. She was no princess, even without her memories, she knew that.

A faint nervous energy moved through her body, only to disappear as quickly as it had happened. Her gut said she should worry, that she couldn’t remember anything, but her head said not to worry at all.

It was easier not to worry.

She drifted across the checkered floor toward a window that opened out into a balcony. Maybe a little fresh air would clear her head and she’d remember where she was. Her home, she could only assume. Or perhaps she was visiting a friend.

Maybe she really was a princess. How funny would that be?

Giggling to herself, she opened the balcony doors and stepped outside into the fresh, cool air. It touched her face and she let her eyes drift shut to enjoy the soft massage of her features.

That ugly thing inside her, the one that said to worry, breathed in the air as well. But the air was blistering to that part of her. Hot and stifling, and it made her lungs hurt.

Freya coughed and pressed her hand to her mouth. The air didn’t hurt when she breathed. The starry sky was no lie, as she stared at such beauty. Her vision went blurry and when she focused again, there was nothing in front of her but darkness. Just a blank, shadowy darkness with something slithering inside it. Not a snake or a monster, but like the shadows themselves had shape and form.

She hissed out a long breath, blinked, and then everything returned to normal. Twinkling stars in a sky that never ended.

“Strange,” she whispered. “I could have sworn there was something wrong with this place.”

There wasn’t anything wrong at all, though. She was safe and home, and everything was absolutely fine.

Breath rattling in her lungs, she turned around and gasped. The dance floor hadn’t been so lonely after all. Hundreds of magical creatures filled the space, each in a gown more stunning than the last. A couple whirled by her, their arms outstretched and their feet flying through a convoluted waltz.

The woman had the face of an emerald parrot, her eyes so yellow they glowed in her head. The man had whiskers instead of a mustache, and his pupils were slitted when he met her gaze. His smile flashed in the candlelight, fangs gleaming.

She pressed a hand to her chest in surprise. They shouldn’t exist, these creatures. They looked like something out of a storybook, but then she remembered that maybe they were her people. She had only forgotten. They were hers and she was theirs, and if they were dancing...

Well. Then she should dance.

Freya stepped off the balcony and back into the room that was filled with so much vibrancy and life. A woman with giant dragonfly wings stepped to the side, gesturing with her arms for Freya to walk through the wall of people that parted in waves.

Why? Why did they want her to walk through their ranks when she was just looking for a partner? They all danced with each other, and Freya knew how to waltz. She should find someone to dance with and whirl across the floor like the rest of them. Shouldn’t she?

But none of the creatures reached out their hands for her to take. They all stopped dancing, raised their arms, and gestured for her to continue walking through them. All the way to the very center of the dance floor. Was someone waiting for her?

Except... No one was. She was the only person in the center when she finally stood there and no other creatures pointed for her to walk in a certain direction.

Freya paused in the middle of the room and tilted her head back to stare up at the ceiling made of stars and floating candles. She watched the bright lights whirl above her head and marveled at their beauty. Every sparkle, every speck above her, appeared to be magic. The stars winked in and out of existence. And more than that, the firelight that glowed just out of reach gave her entire life meaning.

Again, that ugly thing in her chest lifted its head. But this time, it didn’t try to speak with her. Apparently that power had grown tired of convincing her that something wasn’t right, especially if she would not listen.

It flowed through her body, pulsing down into her fingertips and filling her head with elation and strength. She wasn’t herself at all. She was a glowing woman made of galaxies and a thousand sunsets all wrapped up in flesh that was too tight. And not quite her own.

Looking down, Freya turned her hands and was startled to see the stars sparkling in her own skin now. Glowing underneath the surface like her veins had become filled with an essence of the sky itself.

“Dance,” the surrounding creatures chanted. “Dance for us.”

She didn’t feel like dancing. There wasn’t even music. She knew there had to be something in the air for her to dance, and there wasn’t even the faintest chord of...

There it was.

She heard the music now. The thready reed of a flute, joined by a violin that filled the air with lovely music. And suddenly, she wanted to dance. She wanted to do more than that with the power that filled her to the very brim.

Lifting her hands over her head, Freya spun in a slow circle that lifted her skirts into a wide arc around her. She stared up at her hands, fingers falling into a graceful, relaxed pose. All those stars in her skin erupted. They poured down upon her like a shower of glittering light that illuminated the entire room in one burst of bright magic.

She spun faster. The power whirled, glowing brighter and brighter until she didn’t know what was her and what wasn’t anymore. The candles weren’t bright enough to compete with her. The stars in the ceiling couldn’t glow like she did.

Her feet moved in an intricate pattern that she hadn’t known only moments ago. Or if she had, her mind hadn’t remembered the steps that led her dancing in circles while a hundred faerie creatures watched her move.

Their lips twisted into smiles when she caught glimpses of them in her wild spinning. Some of them wore smiles that appeared kind, and then in the next moment, they leered at her as though they were ready to leap. To pounce. To feed.

Those were the thoughts that stilled her feet and slowed her dance. She nearly stumbled to a halt in front of a man who looked like he wore the face of a beetle, with eyes too large that were covered in a honeycomb pattern.

His too human lips curved into a smile, but she saw another expression under that veneer of happiness. His mouth opened wide into a cavernous maw that threatened to devour her whole. This creature of the night wanted to take a bite out of her flesh and chew on it for hours, just to savor the taste of someone with so much power.

Freya flinched away from him, far across the circle of her own creation. In doing so, she almost bumped into another creature whose face was bright red, with glittering scales cascading down her shoulders. This faerie woman didn’t hide her hunger or how much she wanted to hurt Freya.

Instead of concealing that horrible need for pain, the faerie woman reached for Freya with claws sharpened into wicked points. The faerie scraped her nails down either side of Freya’s face. And then the whispered words came with the pain. “Keep dancing, little Freya. We want to watch you dance.”

Why were her feet moving again? She didn’t want to dance. Nor did she desire to put on a show for these foul, loathsome creatures who were laughing at her pain. How dare they?

The power inside her bubbled, boiled, then spilled over. The light that poured out of her was thick this time. Like a wave of yellow sunshine that splashed onto the floor and made the faerie creatures hiss as they backed away lest they be burned.

“Go away,” she whispered. “I won’t be your entertainment for the night.”

Some unknown presence pressed down on her mind. She could feel it reaching into her head and twisting her thoughts around again. It wasn’t that she had forgotten, but that a very particular thing or person wanted her to be lost in this impossible sense of the unknown. It wanted her to be afraid in small snippets of a heartbeat before she fell under its spell yet again.

Her own magic swelled in her chest and she saw the room as it really was. Full of creatures made of stretched shadows with leering grins that towered over her. No candles, only darkness and grim light that faded at the edges into madness.

But then she blinked and everything returned to normal. To brilliancy and vibrant colors that swirled with the creatures as they moved again.

She should give in to the magic. Living in this place was so much better than that nightmarish realm of darkness. But she didn’t want to. Freya wanted to be free. She had something to do, although she couldn’t remember exactly what.

She spun on her heel, ready to sprint through the crowds of faerie creatures and back to the balcony. She’d hurl herself over the edge if that was what it took to free herself from this realm.

Only she didn’t get far. Freya collided with a body that wasn’t cold or shadowy at all. She looked up, and all the tension in her body eased.

His face was that of a great horned owl. His eyes held a thousand galaxies within them, and he smiled when he looked down at her. Her soul eased at the sight of this creature, and she didn’t know why.

No wait.

She did.

“Goblin King,” she whispered, although she didn’t remember what the title meant.