Once Upon A Curse: 17 Dark Faerie Tales Read online

  When the unicorn started to scream, it sounded very much like how the princess had screamed when she'd been attacked by the huntsman. Its cry cut through the oncoming twilight and pierced the heart of any living thing within earshot. Some of the smaller animals in the glen did not survive the terror of that scream. The demon thought it wise not to mention this to the princess.

  She was already crying, screaming in fear as the unicorn screamed in pain. She leapt into the icy stream and threw her thin young arms around its slender neck, mindless of its spastic hooves and rolling eyes and blood-frothed mouth. She ceased her cries and began to sing to the beast, a lullaby, in an attempt to calm it.

  There was magic in her voice, whether she had willed it there or not. The demon saw several animals curl up in sleep as they heard the song. He yawned twice himself. The unicorn's thrashing slowed with its heartbeat, and it laid its head in her lap, far less gracefully than the previous unicorn. She rocked it back and forth, back and forth, all the time singing it to sleep. Singing it to death. She held the unicorn until long after it had turned to snow at her feet and the wind had blown its form into tiny drifts around her.

  The demon approached her gently this time. He did not want to disturb her, but he also did not want her to freeze to death, so he loosened his fire essence through his iron-shod feet and into the ground, warming the earth around her. The corpse-ice of the unicorn began to melt away.

  "I am sorry," she told him again when the tears were gone. "I killed the unicorn."

  "No matter," he replied calmly. "Can I get you anything?" He found himself surprised at his concern for her welfare.

  She untied the silk purse at her waist and held it out to him. "A drink of water from the stream, please," she said. "There is a golden cup in my bag." Her voice was ragged and hoarse with strain and sadness.

  The demon snorted. "You humans and your gold." He was careful with his giant claws so that he only untied the small bag instead of ripping it to shreds. He withdrew the ridiculously ornate cup; like the comb, it, too, burned at his eyes with its sick aura. "Your mother gave you this." It was not a question.

  "Yes," the princess affirmed. "She gave me the bag to take with me on my journey."

  He cursed himself for his own stupidity and immediately immolated the bag and all its contents at his feet.

  "No!" cried the princess, the unicorn now all but forgotten.

  "Why would you want any of that?" he asked. "Every bit of it was meant to kill you."

  "It's all I have," she said over the blackened mark of singed earth. "It's all I had to remember her by."

  "You have your memories," he told her. "Those should be painful enough."

  She stood tall and glared at him, her whole body rigid, her hands in tiny fists at her side. "How many more unicorns are there?"

  "One," he answered.

  "How many more demons are there?" she asked.

  "One," he answered again.

  "What happened to the others?"

  "I killed them."

  She relaxed a little in sympathy. "How could you do that?"

  He could just as easily ask her how she could have killed two unicorns, but he thought it wise not to mention it. "We are not meant to be here in your world. Not us; not the unicorns. Our presence makes the spectrum of your world larger. We make the waves taller, the valleys lower. We turn bad into evil and good into divinity. The longer we are here, the more we lose control of our minds. Demons become savage. Unicorns, I imagine, become more ephemeral. Our souls belong in our own worlds, and they return to these worlds after our death."

  "So you hunted down your brethren and killed them for the sake of my world."

  "And to save their souls. They were easy for me to find; evil begets evil. I would not have found the unicorns without your help."

  "And how would you have killed them?"

  "I don't know," he answered honestly. "You did that for me."

  The princess exhaled then, deflated, and sat again. She hugged her knees to her chest and looked out over the rushing, icy stream. Apart from the burbling of the water the woods around them were blessedly silent. The demon sat beside her, only close enough to warm the ground beneath her and the air around her.

  "Is that why my mother is so evil?" asked the princess. "Because there are demons in the world?"

  "Perhaps. I don't know."

  "I don't think you are evil."

  "Then you are a silly girl."

  "Are unicorns demons too?"

  This was certainly an avenue of thought the demon hadn't considered. "What makes you say that?"

  "They have horns, and hooves, and they are elemental, and they are the polar opposite of you. They are ice where you are fire. You said that demons are all different colors based on their nature. Are there ice demons where you come from?"

  "I have not heard tales of any."

  "Perhaps they were exiled from your world. Or you from theirs. Or perhaps we were the ones exiled. We might have all been part of the same world once."

  "That would be a remarkable history," he said.

  "What will happen to you when you die?"

  "My soul will be returned to my world and I will tell my tale to the Memory Stone, so that others who might follow this path will know how to act."

  "I don't want you to die."

  "I have to. My continued presence here will only tear your world apart."

  "I know," she said matter-of-factly. "I just wanted you to know."

  "Thank you," said the demon. Her declaration both pleased and frustrated him. She was growing too mature too fast. He hoped it didn't affect her ability to attract the unicorns.

  "Shall we go find this last unicorn then?"

  The demon stood, offering one large, clawed hand to help the princess to her feet. She took it. "We shall."

  Just beyond the stream was another small mountain, more of a large hill, with a gaping maw before them that appeared to be the entrance to a mine. "Up or down?" the demon asked her. He imagined the unicorn would find them either way.

  "I want to see the stars," was all she said before she started climbing.

  They climbed to the summit in the long hours of the early evening. In the spring, the demon suspected this ground was covered in wildflowers. What crunched beneath their feet now was only dirt and dry grasses hiding sharp rocks. The princess stumbled a few times, but she kept on climbing. The demon could not see the blood on her feet, but he could smell it on the wind, and so long as she said nothing, he wondered why he cared.

  Once atop the small mountain, the princess skipped and jumped about joyously under the bright heavens. She ran around the summit as if the wildflowers still surrounded her. She spun and spun and threw her head back and held her hands up to the sky to catch the flakes of snow that had started to fall like little stars all around her. And then the stars themselves began to fall from the sky and dance with her. The princess pulled the golden ribbons from her hair and tied them all together in one long strand, and the stars leapt and swirled and twirled the ribbon as she spun it around herself. Her giggles and laughter sounded like bells. The wind around her whooshed and whistled and sounded like whinnying.

  And when the whirlwind of flurries took a unicorn's form, she quickly tied her ribbon around its neck, fashioning it into a crude golden harness. The great white beast bowed his head to her, accepting his defeat, and allowed her to lead him to the demon. With one quick hand, the demon snapped the horn from the unicorn's head; with the other, he slit its throat, deep and deadly. Without so much as a snort the unicorn burst into a flash blizzard of snow, covering both the demon and the princess in blood and ice.

  The demon lifted the unicorn's frozen horn to his lips, and the heat from his breath melted it quickly down his throat. His stomach clenched and his muscles spasmed; the poison was quick.

  There were tears in the princess's eyes. The demon held a large, warm hand to her small, cold cheek. "I'm sorry," he said. "I killed the unicorn."

/>   "I cry not for a beast I never knew. I weep for the beast who was my friend."

  "Where will you go?" he asked, no longer surprised at his concern for her welfare.

  "I will find whoever mines this mountain and seek shelter with them." She was above him now; he did not remember lying down. Her ebony hair curtained her face, erasing the stars from the night. From her neck dangled the melted coin she had almost thrown in the well; she had woven one of her golden ribbons through a hole in the design. He reached out to touch the medallion, but his arm did not obey.

  "Perhaps your prince will come," said the demon.

  "In time," she said. "Perhaps in a very long time, when we are worthy of each other."

  "Very wise," said the demon.

  "Will you tell your Memory Stone about me?" she asked.

  "Yes," he whispered. "I will tell it all about the smart and brave princess I once knew."

  She laughed and fought back the tears that no longer fell. "There is no need to lie."

  He laughed too, but his breath had left him. "And what stories will you tell your world?"

  "I have"--she screwed up her beautiful face in an effort to maintain her composure--"I have my memories," she said. "Those should be painful enough."

  He nodded in reply, but his head would not obey. He fought to keep his eyes on her face, but he suddenly went from looking up at her to looking down upon them both. He watched her as she hugged herself to his chest, then shifted herself around his horns so that she might cradle his head in her lap. She held him until he turned to ash in her arms, until all that was left of him were his iron shoes. He watched her until his corpse-dust flew away on the wind, until his soul was drawn so far away that she was only a golden speck on the dark mountainside, another star in the sky.

  He had been wrong. She would make a great queen.

  Find all Alethea’s books on AMAZON, and visit her on the web at http://aletheakontis.com

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