Christmas Story from Fantasy Writer Tad Williams!

Famed fantasy author Tad Williams has contributed a free Christmas story to several blogs to promote the release of his new short story collection - A Stark and Wormy Knight. (Info on a special for the e-book at the end of the story.) Enjoy! And Happy Holidays!

THE SUGARPLUM FAVOR

(A Christmas Story)

Tad Williams

           

            Danny Mendoza counted his change three times in while the teacher talked about what they were all supposed to bring for the class winter holiday party tomorrow.  It was really a Christmas party, at least in Danny's class, because that's what all the kids' families' celebrated.  Danny had his party contribution covered.  He had volunteered to bring napkins and paper plates and cups because his family had some left over from his little brother's birthday party with characters from Gabba Gabba Hey on them.  He’d get teased about that, he knew, but he didn’t want to ask his mother to make something because she was so busy with his little brothers and the baby, and now that Danny’s stepfather Luis had lost his job they had a Money Situation.  Danny could live with a little teasing.

            Danny was going to buy a candy bar for his mother, one of those big ones.  That was going to be his Christmas present to her and Danny knew how much she'd like it -- he hadn't just inherited his small size and nimble fingers from her, he'd got her sweet tooth, too.  And she had just been talking about the Christmas a few years ago when Luis had a good job with the Sanitation Department and he'd brought her a whole box of See's chocolates.  Danny knew he couldn't match that, but the last of the money he'd saved up from raking leaves in the neighborhood and walking old Mrs. Rosales' wheezy little dog should be enough to buy a big old Hershey bar that would make Mama smile.  No, what to get wasn't a problem.  The thing that had him thinking so hard as he went down the street at a hurried walk, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, was whether he dared to get it now or should wait another day.

In Danny's San Jose neighborhood the Mercado Estrella was like an African water hole, not only a crucial source of nurture but also the haunt of the most fearsome predator in his 3rd grade world.  Any stop at the little market meant he risked running into Hector Villaba, the big, mean fifth-grade kid who haunted Danny's days and often his nights as well.  Danny couldn't even begin to guess how much candy and other goodies Hector had stolen from him and the other kids over the years, but it was a lot -- Hector was the elementary school's Public Enemy Number One.  About half the time his victims got shoved around, too, or even hit, and none of the grown-ups ever did anything about it except to tell their humiliated sons they should learn how to fight back.  That was probably because Hector Villaba’s father was a violent, drunken brute who didn't care what Hector did and everyone in the neighborhood was as scared of him as the kids at school were scared of his son.  The last time someone in the neighborhood had called the police on Hector’s dad, all their windows had been broken while they were at church and their car scratched from one end to another.

            Danny was still trying to make up his mind whether to risk stopping at the market today or wait for better odds tomorrow (when class ended early because of the holiday) when he saw Mrs. Rosales walking Pinto, her little spotted dog.  He almost crossed the street because he knew she'd want to talk to him and he'd spent a lot of time doing that already last week when went to her house to get Pinto nearly every day.  He was too close, though, she’d seen him, and Jesus hated being rude to old people almost as much as he hated it when kids lied, or at least that was what his mama always told him.  Danny wasn't expecting much from Santa anyway, but if Jesus got upset things would probably be even worse.  He sighed and continued toward her.

            "Look who's here!" Mrs. Rosales said when she saw him.  "Look, Pinto mi querida, it's your friend Danny!"  But when he waved and would have passed by she told him, "Hold on a moment, young man, I want to talk to you."

            He stopped, but he was really worried that Hector and his friends might catch up if he stood around too long.  "Yes, Mrs. Rosales?"

            "I short-changed you the other day."  She took out a little coin purse.  It took her a long time to get it open with her knobby old fingers.  "I owe you a dollar."

“Really?”  Danny was astonished.

She pulled out a piece of paper that looked like it had been folded and unfolded a hundred times and handed it to him.  "I know boys need money this time of year!"

            He thanked her, petted Pinto (who growled despite all their time together, because Pinto was a spoiled brat) and hurried toward the market.  Another dollar!  It was like one of those Christmas miracles on a television show – like the Grinch’s heart growing so much it made the x-ray machine go sproing!  This changed everything.  He could not only buy his mom's present, he could buy something for himself, too.  He briefly considered blowing the whole dollar on a Butterfinger, his very favorite, but he knew hard candies would be a better investment -- he could share them with his younger brothers, and it was Christmas-time, after all.  But whatever he got, he didn't want to wait for tomorrow, not now that he had something to spend on himself.  Danny Mendoza had been candy-starved for days.  Nothing sweeter than the baby's butterscotch pudding had passed his lips that week, and the pudding hadn't been by his own choice.  (His baby sister had discovered that if she waved her spoon things flew and splattered, and she liked that new trick a lot.)  If he hurried to the market he should still get there long before Hector and his friends, who had many children to harass and humiliate on their way home.  It was a risk, of course, but with an unexpected dollar in his pocket Danny felt strangely confident.  There had to be such a thing as Christmas luck, didn't there?  After all, it was a whole holiday about Jesus getting born, and Jesus was kind to everybody.  Although it sure hadn’t seemed like a lucky Christmas when Luis, Danny’s stepfather, had lost his job in the first week of December.  But maybe things were going to get better now -- maybe, as his mama sometimes said, the Mendoza family’s luck was going to change.

            He was even more willing to believe in miracles when he saw no sign of Hector  and his friends at the market.  As he walked in Christmas music was playing loudly on the radio, that "Joy to the World" song sung by some smooth television star.  Tia Marisol, the little old lady who ran the place on her own since her husband died, was trying to hang some lights above the cigarettes behind the cash register.  She wasn’t his real aunt, of course.  Everybody in the neighbohood just called her “Tia.”

"Oye, little man," she called when she turned around and saw him.  "How's your mama?"

            "Fine, Tia Marisol.  I'm getting her a present."  He made his way past the postres to the long candy rack.  So many colors, so many kinds!  It almost seemed to glow, like in one of those cartoons where children found a treasure-cave.  When Danny was little, it was what he had imagined when the minister at the church talked about Heaven.  The only better thing he had ever seen in his whole life was the huge piñata at one of his school friends’ birthday party, years and years ago.  When the birthday boy knocked the piñata open and candy came showering out and all the kids could jump in and take what they want – that had been amazing.  Like winning a game show on television.  Danny still dreamed about it sometimes.

Danny realized that he was staring like a dummy at the rack of candy when every second the danger that Hector and his friends would arrive kept growing.  He quickly examined the big Hershey bars until he found one with a perfect wrapper, a massive candy bar that looked as if it had been made special for a commercial.  He would have loved to spend more time browsing -- how often did he have a whole dollar to spend just on candy? -- but he knew time was short, so he grabbed a good-sized handful of hard, sour candies for sucking, took several different colors of candy ropes; then, as worry grew inside him, as uncomfortable as needing to pee, he finally snatched up a handful of bubble gum and ran to the front counter.

            "What's your hurry, m'hijo?" Tia Marisol asked.

            "Mom needs me," he said, which he hoped was not enough of a lie to ruin Jesus' upcoming celebration.  After all, Mom did always need his help, especially by this time in the day when she'd been on her own with the baby and the littlest brother since morning, and had just walked the other brother home from preschool.  He pulled the three dollars worth of much-counted change out of one pocket and mounded it in front of Tia Marisol, then put the Hershey bar and his own handful of candy down beside it before digging out the crumpled dollar Mrs. Rosales had given him.  She slid her glasses a little way down her nose while she looked at it all.

            "Where'd you get so much money, Danny?"

            "Raking lawns.  Taking Mrs. Rosales dog for walks."

            Tia Marisol smiled, handed him back twenty-three cents, and put everything into a paper bag.  "You're a good boy.  You and your family have a happy Christmas.  Tell your mama I said hello, would you?"

            "Sure."  He was already halfway through the door, heart beating.

            The Christmas miracle continued outside: other than a couple of young mothers with strollers and bundled-up babies, and the old men who sat on the bus bench across the street drinking from bottles in paper bags, the area around the store was still clear.  Danny began to walk toward home as fast as he could without running, because he had the bag under his coat now and he didn't want to melt Mama's candy bar.  Still, he was almost skipping, he was so happy.  Joy to the world, the Lord is come...!

            "Hey, Mendoza," someone shouted in a hoarse voice.  "What's in the bag, maricon?"

            Danny stopped, frozen for a moment like a cornered animal, but then he began to walk again, faster and faster until he was running.  There was no question whose voice that was.  Pretty much every kid in his school knew it and feared it.

            "Hold up, Mendoza, or I'll kick your ass good!"  The voice was getting closer.  He could hear the whir of bike tires on the sidewalk coming up behind him fast.  He looked back and saw that Hector Villaba and his big, stupid friends Rojo and Chuy were bearing down on him on their bikes, and in another second or two would ride him down.  He lunged to the side just as Hector stuck out his foot and shoved him, sending Danny crashing into the low wire fence of the house he was passing.  He bounced off and tumbled painfully to the sidewalk as Hector and his gang stopped just a few yards ahead, now blocking the sidewalk that led Danny home.  The hard candies had fallen out of his bag and were scattered across the sidewalk.  He got down on his knees, hurrying to pick them up, doing everything he could to avoid eye contact with Hector and the others, but when he reached for the last one Hector's big, stupid basketball-shoe was on top of it.  The older boy leaned over and picked it up.  "Jolly Rancher, huh?  Not bad.  Not great, but not bad."  He waved it in Danny's face, making him look up from all fours like a dog at its master.  "I asked you what's in the bag, Mendoza?"

            "Nothing!  It's for my mama."

            "For your mama?  Oh, iddn't dat sweet?"  Hector's fingers hooked under Danny's chin and lifted.  Danny didn't fight -- he knew it wasn't going to help -- but he still flinched when he saw Hector's round, sweaty face so close, the angry, pale yellow-brown eyes.  Hector Villaba even had the beginnings of a real mustache, a hairy smudge on his upper lip.  It was one of the things that made him so scary, one of the reasons why even bigger twelve year olds like Chuy and Rojo let him lead them -- a fifth-grader with a mustache!

            "C'mon, open it up," Hector told him.  "Let's see what you got for your mama."  When Danny still didn't offer up the bag, Hector's friend Chuy put a foot on Danny's back and pushed down so hard that Danny had to brace himself to keep from being shoved against the sidewalk.  “I said show me, maricon," said Hector.  "Chuy gonna break your spine.  He knows karate."

            Danny handed Hector the bag, biting his lip, determined not to cry.  Hector pulled out the big Hershey Bar.  "Hijole!" he said.  "Look at that!  Something for your mama, shit -- you were going to eat that all by yourself.  Not even share none with us.  That's cold, man."

            "It is for my mother!  It is!"  Danny pushed up against Chuy's heavy hiking boot trying to reach the candy bar, which didn't look anywhere near so huge clamped in Hector Villaba's plump, dirty fingers.  Chuy took his weight off for a moment, then kicked Danny in the ribs hard enough to make him drop to the concrete and hug himself in pain.

            "If you try any more shit, we'll hurt you good," said Hector, laughing as he unwrapped the candy bar.  He tossed a piece to Chuy, then another to Rojo, who grabbed it out of the air and shoved it in his mouth like a starving dog, then licked his fingers.  Hector leaned down and gave Danny another shove, hard enough to crash him against the fence again.  "Don't you ever try to hide anything from me.  I know where you live, dude.  I'll come over and slap the bitch out of you and your mama both."  He pointed to the hard candies still clutched in Danny's hands.  "Get that other shit, too, yo," Hector told Rojo, and the big, freckled kid bent Danny's fingers back until he surrendered it all.

            The Christmas chocolate bar, looking sad and naked with half its foil peeled away, was still clutched in Hector's hand as he and his friends rode away laughing, sharing the hard candy out of the bag.

            For a while Danny just sat on the cold sidewalk and wished he had a knife or even a gun and he could kill Hector Villaba, even if it made Jesus unhappy for weeks.  At that moment Danny almost felt like he could do it.  The rotten, mean bastard had taken his mom's present!

            At last Danny wiped his eyes and continued home.  It was starting to get dark and the wind was suddenly cold, which made his scratched-up hands ache.  When he reached the apartment he let himself in, dropped his book bag by the door, then called a greeting to his mama feeding Danny's baby sister in the kitchen as he hurried on to the bathroom so he could clean up his scratches and tear-stained face and do his best to hide the damage to the knees of his pants before she saw him up close.  It wouldn't do any good to tell her what had happened – she couldn’t do anything and it would make her very sad.  Danny was used to keeping quiet about what went on between home and school, school and home.

After a while he went out and sat at the table and watched as his mother fed green goop to the baby.  Even her smile for Danny looked tired.  Mama worked so hard to keep them all fed and dressed, hardly ever yelled, and even sang old songs from Mexico for Danny and his brothers when she wasn't too tired...

And now that cabron Hector had stolen her present, and he didn’t have any money left to get her something else.

*

Later that night, when the house was quiet and everyone was asleep, Danny found himself crying again.  It was so unfair!  What had happened to the Christmas luck?  Or did that kind of thing only happen to other kids, other families?

“Please, Jesus,” he prayed quietly.  “I just have to get Mama something for Christmas – something Hector can’t take.  If that’s a miracle, okay – I mean, I know you can’t do them all the time, but if you got one...an extra one...”

            *

            Something woke him up – a strange noise in the living room.  For a moment he lay in bed wondering if Santa Claus might have come, but then he remembered it was still three days until Christmas.  Still, he could definitely hear something moving, a kind of quiet fluttery sound.   His brothers were both sprawled in boneless, little-boy sleep across the mattress they shared, so he climbed carefully over them and made his way out to the living room.  At first he saw nothing more unusual than the small Christmas tree on top of the coffee table, but as he stared, his eyes trying to get used to the dark, he saw the tree was...moving?  Yes, moving, the top of the pine wagging like a dog’s tail.

Danny had never heard of a Christmas tree coming to life, not even in a TV movie, and it scared him.  He picked up the tennis racket with the missing strings Luis kept promising to fix, then crawled toward the scraggly tree with its ornaments of foil and cut paper.

            As he got closer he could see that something small was caught in the tree’s topmost branch, trying to fly away but not succeeding.  He could hear its wings beating so fast they almost buzzed.  A bird, trapped in the apartment?  A really big moth?

            Danny looked for one of the baby's bowls to trap it, then had a better idea and crept to the kitchen cabinet where his mom kept the washed jars.  He picked a big one that had held sandwich spread and slithered commando-style back to the living room.  Whatever the thing was, it was really stuck, tugging and thrashing as it tried to free itself from the pine needles.  He dropped the jar over it and pulled carefully on the branch until the thing could finally get free, then Danny clapped the lid on the jar to keep it from escaping.

            The thing inside the jar went crazy now, flying against the glass, the wings going so fast that it made it hard for him to see for certain what it was.  The strange thing was, it actually looked like a person -- a tiny, tiny little person no bigger than a sparrow.  That was crazy.  Danny knew it was crazy.  He knew he had to be dreaming.

            "What are you doing?" the thing said in a tiny, rasping voice.  It didn’t sound happy at all.  "Let me go!"

            Danny was so startled to hear it talk that he nearly dropped the jar.  He held it up to the light coming in from the street lamp to get a better look.  The prisoner in the jar was a little lady -- a lady with wings!  A real, honest-to-goodness Christmas miracle!  "Are you...an angel?" he asked.

            "Let me out, young man, and we'll talk about it."  She didn't sound much like an angel.  Actually, she sounded a lot like that scratchy-voiced nanny on that TV show his mama watched sometimes.  Her hair was yellow and kind of wild and sticky-uppy, and she wore a funny little dancing dress.  She was also carrying a bag over her shoulder like Santa did, except that hers wasn’t much bigger than Danny’s thumb .

            "P-Promise you won't fly away?" he asked this strange small person.  "If I let you out?"

            She had her tiny hands pressed up against the inside of the jar.  She shook her head so hard her little sparkly crown almost fell off.  "Promise.  But hurry up -- I don't like enclosed places.  Honest, it makes me want to scream.  Let me out, please."

            "Okay.  But no cheating."  He unscrewed the lid on the jar and slowly turned it over.   The tiny lady rose up, fluttering into the light that streamed through the living room window.

“Oh, that’s so much better,” she said.  “I got stuck in a panoramic Easter egg once, wedged between a frosting bunny and a cardboard flower pot.  Thought I was going to lose my mind.”

"Wow,” he said.  “Who are you?  What are you?"

            She carefully landed on the floor near his knee.  "I'm a sugarplum fairy," she said.  "Like in that ballet."

            "Huh?"

            "Never mind.  Look, thanks for getting me loose from that tree.”  She turned herself around trying to look down at herself.  “Rats!  Ripped my skirt.  I hate conifers.”  She turned back to Danny.  “I didn't mean to scare you, I was just passing through the neighborhood when I felt somebody thinking candy thoughts -- real serious candy thoughts.  I mean, it was like someone shouting.  Anyway, that’s what we do, us sugarplum fairies -- we handle the candy action, especially at Christmas time.  So I thought I should come and check it out.  Was it you?  Because if it was, you’ve got the fever bad, kid.”  She reached into her bag and produced a lollypop bigger than she was, something that couldn’t possibly have fit in there.  “Here, have one on me.  You look like you need it.”

            "Wow.  Wow!"  He suddenly realized he was talking out loud and dropped his voice, worried that he would wake up his mama and Luis.  He reached out for the lollypop.  "You're really a fairy.  Do you know Jesus?"

            She shrugged.  "I think he’s in another department.  What's your name?  It's Danny, isn't it?"

            He nodded.  "Yeah.”  It suddenly struck him.  “You know my name...?"

            "I've got it all written down somewhere."  She started riffling through her bag again, then pulled out something that looked like a tiny phone book.  She took out an equally small pair of glasses, opened the book and began reading.  “For some reason you fell off the list here, Danny.  No wonder you're so desperate -- you haven't had a sugarplum delivery in quite a while!  Well, that at least I can do something about.”  She frowned as she took a pen out of the apparently bottomless bag and made a correction.  “Of course, they may not process the new order until early next year, and I’m not scheduled back in this area until Valentines Day.”  She frowned.  “Doesn’t seem fair...”  A moment later her tiny face brightened.  “Hey, since you saved me from that tree branch I think I’m allowed to give you a wish.  Would you like that?”

            “Really?  A wish?”

“Yes.  I can do that.”

“You’ll give me a wish?  Like magic?  A wish?”

            She frowned again.  “Come on, kid, I know you’ve been shorted on candy the last couple of years but is your blood sugar really that low?  I just very clearly said I will give you a wish.  We’re allowed to when someone helps us out."

            He was so excited he could barely sit still.  It was a Christmas miracle after all, a real one!  "Could I wish for, like, a million dollars?"  Then even if Luis didn't find another job for a while, the family would be okay.  More than okay.

            She shook her head.  "Sorry, kid, no.  I only do candy-related wishes.  You want one of those extra big gummy bears?  I hear those are popular this year.  I could bend some rules and get it to you by Christmas."

            He was tempted -- he'd seen an ad on television -- but now it was his turn to shake his head.  "Could I just get a big Hershey bar?  One of those extra-big ones?  For my mother?"

            The little woman tilted her head up so she could see him better from where she stood down on the ground.  "Truly?  Is that all you want?  Gee, kid, I could feel the desperation coming off this house like weird off an elf.  You sure you don't want something a little more...substantial?  A pile of candy, maybe?  A year's supply of gumdrops or something?  As long as it's candy-related, I can probably get it done for you, but you better decide quick.”  She pulled quite a large pocket watch on a chain out of her bag, then put on her glasses again.  “After midnight, and I’ve still got half my rounds to go."  She looked up at him.  "You seem like a nice kid, Danny, and it doesn't look like you guys are exactly swimming in presents and stuff.  How about a nice pile of candy, assorted types?  Or if you'd rather just concentrate on -- what did you say, Hershey Bars? -- I could probably arrange a shopping bag of those or something..."

            For a moment his head swam at the prospect of a grocery bag full of giant chocolate bars, more than Hector the Butt-head Villaba could ever dream of having now matter how much he stole...but then another idea came floating up from deep down in Danny’s thoughts – a strange, dark idea.

            "Can you do all kinds of wishes?  Really all kinds?"

            "Yeah, but just one.  And it definitely has to be candy-related.  I'm not a miracle worker or anything."

            "Okay.  Then  I'll tell you what I want."  Danny could suddenly see it all in his imagination, and it was very, very good.

            *

            The school holiday party was nice.  Danny and his classmates played games and sang songs and had a snack of fruit and cheese and crackers.  Nobody brought Chips Ahoy cookies, but one of the mothers did indeed bring cupcakes, delicious chocolate ones with silver, green and red sprinkles for Christmas.  There were even enough left over that although Danny had finished his long ago despite making it last as long as possible, he was allowed to take home the last two for his little brothers.  He suspected that the teacher knew his family didn't have much money, but for this one day it didn't embarrass him at all.

            After the bell rang Danny followed the other third-graders toward the school gate, holding one cupcake carefully in each hand, his book bag draped over his shoulder.  He was watching his feet so carefully that he didn't see what made the other children suddenly scatter to either side, but as soon as he heard the voice he knew the reason.

            "Look at that, it's Maricon Mendoza, yo," said Hector Villaba.  "What'd you bring us for Christmas, kid?"  Danny looked up.  The mustached monster was sitting astride his bike just a few yards down the sidewalk, flanked by Rojo and Chuy.  "Oh, yeah, dude -- cupcakes!" said Hector.  “You remembered our Christmas presents."  He scooted his bike forward until he stood directly over Danny, then reached out for the cupcakes.  Danny couldn't help it -- he jerked back when Hector tried to take them, even though he knew it would probably earn him another bruising.

            "Punch the little chulo’s face in," Rojo suggested.
            Hector dropped his bike with a clatter.  The other kids from school who had stopped to stare in horrified fascination jumped out of his way as he strode forward and grabbed the cupcakes out of Danny's hands.  He peeled the paper off one and shoved the whole cupcake in his mouth, then tossed the other to Chuy.  "You two split that," he said through a mouthful of devil's food, then turned his attention back to Danny, who was so scared and excited that he felt like electricity was running through him.  "Next time, you better remember to bring one for each of us, Mendoza.  You only bring two, that's going to get your ass kicked."

            Danny backed away.  It was hard to look into those yellow-brown eyes and not run crying, let alone keep thinking clearly, but Danny did his best.  He dropped his book bag to the ground and out fell the stringless tennis racket that he had brought from home.  Hector hooted with angry laughter as Danny snatched it up and held it before him as if it was a cross and Hector was a vampire.

            "Que?  You going to try to hit me, little boy?"  Hector laughed again, but he didn't sound happy.  He didn't like it when people stood up to him.  "I'll take that away from you and beat your ass black and blue, Mendoza."  The bully took a step nearer and held out his hand.  "Give it to me or I'll break your fingers."

            "No."  Danny wasn't going to step back any farther.  He lifted the racket, waved it around like a baseball bat.  It was old and flimsy, but he had come to school determined today.  "You can't have it...you fat asshole."

            Behind Hector, Rojo let out a surprised chortle, but Hector Villaba didn’t think it was funny at all.

            "That's it," he said, curling his hands into fists.  "After I kick your ass, I'm gonna rub your face in dog shit.  Then I'm gonna kick your ass again.  You're gonna spend Christmas in the hospital."  Without warning, he charged toward Danny.

            Danny stepped to the side and swung the racket as hard as he could, hitting Hector right in the stomach.  With a whoop of surprise and pain Hector bent double, but when he looked up he didn't look hurt, just really, really mad, his eyes staring like a crazy dog's eyes.

            "That's...it.  I'm...going...to...get...you...Mendoza..." he said, then sucked in air and stood up straight, but even as he did so a funny expression crossed his face and he looked down at where he was holding his belly.  Hector’s hands were suddenly full of crackling, cellophane-wrapped hard candies, so many of them that they cascaded over his fingers and onto the ground.  He lifted his hands in disbelief to look and dozens more of the candies slid out of the front of his open jacket -- candy bars, too, fun-size and even regular ones, Snickers bars, Mounds, Tootsie Rolls, lollipops, candy canes, even spicy tamarindos.  The other children from the school stared in horrified fascination, guessing that Danny had broken a bag that Hector had been carrying under his coat.  They were so scared of Hector that they didn’t move an inch toward any of the candy that was still slithering out of the big boy’s coat and pooling on the ground at his feet.

            "Oh, man," one of the other third graders said in a hoarse whisper, "Mendoza's going to get beat up so bad...!"

            But even more candy was pouring out of Hector’s belly now, as if someone had turned on a candy-faucet, a great river of sweets running out of the place where Danny had knocked him open with his old tennis racket.

            "What the...?"  Then Hector Villaba looked down at himself and began to scream in terror.  Candy was showering out of him faster and faster onto the sidewalk, already piled as high as the cuffs of his pants and still coming.

            "Hijole, dude!"  said Rojo.  "You're a piñata!"

            Hector looked at him, eyes rolling with fear, then he turned sprinted away down the street squealing like a kindergartner, a flood of candy still pouring from him, Crunch Bars, M&Ms,  (plain and peanut) as well as boxes of gumdrops and wax-wrapped pieces of taffy, all raining onto the street around the bully's legs and feet, bouncing and rolling.

            Rojo and Chuy watched Hector run for a moment, then turned to stare at Danny with a mixture of apprehension and confusion.  Then turned from him to look at each other, came to some kind of agreement, and threw themselves down on their knees to start scooping up the candy that had fallen out of Hector Villaba.  Within a few seconds the other school kids were all scrambling across the ground beside them, everybody shoveling candy into their pockets as fast as they could.

            Danny waited until he wasn't breathing so hard, then started for home, following the clear trail of candy that had gushed from Hector Villaba as he ran.  He didn't bother to pick up everything, since for once in his life he could afford to be selective.  He stuffed one pocket of his jacket with candy for his brothers, then filled the other just with Butterfinger Bars, at least six or seven, but kept walking with his head down until he spotted a nice, big Hershey Bar in good condition which he zipped in his book bag so it would stay safe for his mother.  The rest of the way home he picked up whatever looked interesting and threw it into the book bag too, until by the time he reached home he was staggering with its weight up the apartment building walkway.  For once, Hector Villaba had been the one who had run home crying.

            He didn't feel sorry for Hector, either, not at all.  Scared as the fifth-grader was now, he would be all right when he reached home.  Danny had made that a part of the wish and the fairy had said she thought it was a good idea.  Jesus didn't want even mean kids to die from having their guts really fall out, Danny felt pretty sure, so he had done his best not to spoil the Lord's birthday.  Of course Hector Villaba probably wouldn't have a very merry Christmas, but Danny had decided that Jesus could probably live with that.

The End

Tad Williams’ new short story collection, A Stark And Wormy Knight, is available now, worldwide, as an ebook, $4.99 (or equivalent) for one month

http://www.amazon.com/Stark-Wormy-Knight-ebook/dp/B006P2QX3U

Bonus Story and Cover Preview relating to Price of Mercy - my new novel coming in June 2011

Starting to get mighty excited, peeps! It's only a couple of weeks before Price of Mercy hits the racks. And due to this singular event, I'm giving you a peek at the cover (before they put words on it) and a free bonus prequel story based on one of the characters in the book.  Just a couple of little somethings to wet your appetite for the upcoming release. Heh heh.

The cover art, by the way, is from Jeff Ward of Stungeon Studios.

Purty ain't it?  Hee hee!


Sylvanna

Sylvanna

“If you could have anything, my dearest madam, what would you wish for?”

Sylvanna turned on her side beneath the covers to stare at her lover. A swath of early morning sunlight lay over them both, coming through the wide window of the hidden attic room in the palace. “Children. I’ve always thought it’d be wonderful to have a gaggle of children.”

A panicked look crossed Emperor Narpess’ blue eyes before they turned deadly serious. Before he could say anything, however, Sylvanna laughed. “Don’t worry. You asked me a question and I answered it, it doesn’t mean I’ve stopped taking precautions.” She gently flicked his long nose. “You’ve nothing to worry about.”

She laughed again when his expression didn’t clear. “If you’re going to fret about it so, we can stop our amusements any time you like.” She sat up, her long black hair falling over her breasts like a draped robe.  “Then there’ll be nothing to worry about.” A tilted smile took the sting out of the comment. “Tempting as it might be to have a royal bastard, I would prefer to be a properly married woman before creating my throng of offspring.”

Narpess’ expression turned petulant. “I’m not ready for you to leave me. And no one is fretting about anything.” His creased brows disagreed. “I only asked the question as I was thinking of getting you a gift.”

The comment gave her a small thrill quickly followed by a chill. “You shouldn’t, Narpy. You know you shouldn’t. We’ve talked about this.”

“I can be discreet. She won’t find out.” His lower lip pushed out like a spoiled child’s despite his twenty years. “I’m the emperor. I can do as I like!”

Sylvanna shook her head, looking away, surprised yet again how such a man, who could be smart and clever when he applied himself, chose to remain so blind where his mother, his position, and the power of the empire were concerned. “Only within reason. And giving me a gift is not. She gets reports of every expenditure, of everywhere you go, of everything you do. That you stumbled over some of the palace’s secret passages is the only reason we’re able to meet at all.”

Narpess sighed and fell back onto the pillows. “She’s only trying to make sure I’m the best emperor I can be.”

Sylvanna sighed as well, but made sure he didn’t see or hear it. “Yes… It is her duty to do so, of course.” Trillena just didn’t have to go to the extremes she did. But making Narpy understand this was a battle she’d reconciled herself as having lost long ago. Her son would never see Trillena for what she truly was – a tyrant and a master manipulator.

Love could be blind and not just for lovers.

Sylvanna had come to court when she was thirteen. It’d been such an honor to have been chosen to be one of the empress’s ladies in waiting, especially since they’d only met once, and briefly at that. It was only after she’d been here for some time that the truth of why her family had been so honored came to light. Though their duchy was far out in the provinces and her family not all that well off, her father was popular and full of radical ideas. The dowager believed him a little too popular, as it turned out. Having a daughter living at the palace was seen as a mark of favor, but it was also a form of threat.

She fought to hold back another sigh.

Oh, Trillena would never threaten directly, but Sylvanna too clearly remembered what had happened to Kareen. A little dumpy and slow, Kareen had been one of the sweetest people ever to have been forged by the Maker.  The only one of the handmaidens who didn’t fawn all over the place, or only thought about how to best better their station in the dowager empress’s eyes. A true and honest friend, only too thrilled to serve. This hadn’t stopped Trillena from ‘losing’ an important item and then having it be said Kareen was the one responsible for taking it. That it was found amongst her things, a clear sign of guilt.  So she’d been sent home in tears and covered in shame, ugly welts raking her back from the lashes. Suddenly her father’s new lucrative contracts, which he’d worked to gain independently of the crown, fell through due to the smear. Later, they were conveniently picked up by others more favored by the empress. Those so privileged then in turn increased the empire’s coffers with lavish monetary gifts for the introductions to the foreign dignitaries, of course.

Once the blinders came off, Sylvana hadn’t been able to put them back on - the bars of her prison no longer hidden behind curtains or lace, but clanging with the empress’s every word and action. What had appeared before as stoicism and grace were revealed as total indifference and single-minded selfishness. 

She threw a glance at Narpess wondering when and how he’d come to realize his life wasn’t entirely his own, as she had. It was something she’d not dared ask about.

The parties and picnics with the dowager were no longer the glamorous affairs she’d believed them. The lavish presents of dresses and perfumes weren’t true gifts, given only to make them stand out, so those around them would remember what they actually were -- hostages to ensure good and loyal behavior from their parents. Yet the families and the other daughters and sons housed here preferred fooling themselves and those around them, rather than face the facts of their precarious existence.

Sylvanna rose from the bed, the morning chill nipping at her flesh. She reached for her shift, her mood soured.  “We should get back. Someone will come looking for you before long and I need to be ready to attend the empress since she habitually rises earlier than her precious son.”

A groan reached her from the bed. “She’s been harping on that lately, but I’m not about to give up on my one and only real vice.” The bead creaked as he rose. “It’s the only way I get to spend any time with you.”

His every waking hour was planned – had been since he’d been old enough to walk. As her eyes had been opened to her real situation, so had they been opened to his. That he’d stumbled upon her as she hid crying behind one of the manicured bushes as he tried to steal a few minutes for himself hadn’t hurt either.

He’d asked her if she was all right, a knowing look in his eyes. Something, which in his position, he need not have done, yet he’d taken the time, even at the risk of being found earlier than he might have. Showing there might be someone living in the gilded cage who actually cared.

Sylvanna had seen a kindred soul in him, someone who understood and didn’t just live the lie, someone in need of help if not a little pity. Compared to him, she had more freedom, more control over her life. She could more easily escape the empress’ notice than he – his shiny prison filled with many invisible chains, unlike her own.

Narpess swept the hair away from her neck and planted a kiss there. “You’ve made life tolerable for me.”

A smile tugged at her face as she turned around. “You’ve done the same for me and more.”

The excitement of their secret meetings gave her something to look forward to. The ability for her to be able to vent her frustrations, safe in the knowledge whatever she said wouldn’t be shared with anyone else.  The wonder at the things she learned about the world as she bumbled with him through some of his lessons. The joy at watching a gangly youth grow to a man and the empire’s most important figure – The Maker’s Avatar.

The sex…had been unplanned.

Curiosity mixed with trust and the need for education and relief. It’d worked out well for them.

His kiss migrated to her lips as if agreeing with her.

Sylvanna allowed herself to wallow in the sensation for a moment, then pulled away. “I really do need to go.” She grabbed her green morning robe and slipped it on. “I’ll see you tonight.” She started toward the door.

“Actually…”

She glanced back at him, surprised. “Yes?”

He turned his back to her, picking up his own purple robe with gold filigree. “Mother has arranged for a visit.”

She turned to face him. “Another prospective wife?”

“Is there any other kind with her?”

She was surprised she’d not heard of it. But then again with the less than satisfactory results of the last two attempted matches, perhaps the empress had decided to keep the subject private and test the waters first before letting everyone in on the possible match.

“I know she’s only doing this with my best interest at heart, but really. I’m only twenty. Why the hurry?”

Sylvanna couldn’t stop her brow from rising. “You’re the emperor. Your mother and the people expect a secured line of succession, and you can’t get that without marriage and children. You know all this.”

“But I don’t want to marry any of these ‘carefully chosen’ women. Why can’t I just marry you instead?”

“Narpy!” Again that strange thrill and chill wove through her body. “You mustn’t say that. You must never say that! It’ll never happen. We must be reconciled to that.”

A hurt look flashed across his face, and she was sorry for it, but these were the realities of their situation.

He shook his head. “You have noble blood. You come from a good family. It shouldn’t be that unfathomable a thing!” He sat down hard on the bed, scowling at her.

“You mother will not have it. She doesn’t like my family. Not in a thousand years would she think of giving them the power they’d gain by having their daughter become the emperor’s wife.”

“Surely you exaggerate.”

Sylvanna could only stare, a kernel of dread forming inside her. Had she been the one lying to herself all this time? Did he really not understand her precarious placement? Or just didn’t want to? If his mother ever suspected he might want such a thing…

She rubbed her suddenly cold arms.

“Narpy, I’m begging you, if you care for me at all, don’t ever say those words again where someone might overhear.”

Not looking at him, she turned away and fled from the room.

Once out the door, she gasped in surprise, again having forgotten about Narpess’ bodyguard, Lissan. Dark skinned, he blended with the deep shadows in the tight, badly lit corridor. That he towered over her and his skin showed all manner of old scars, didn’t help her feel any easier about him even after all this time. “Apologies…”

She hurried past him, resisting the urge to glance back over her shoulder. He always seemed to know where Narpess was. It never mattered how hard they tried to elude him. Yet her friend never seemed truly concerned. She’d asked about it once and Narpess told her he’d sworn Lissan into secrecy so all was well. He’d insisted Lissan could no more break the oath than she could turn her body into that of a man’s. Despite his reassurances, Sylvanna knew money could loosen all manner of tongues, but after all this time there wasn’t even a rumor of their dalliances, so the oath had been kept.

Lightly touching the wall to count the panels for her turn, she hurried forward.

Often she’d wondered if Lissan were one of the fabled Twelve – the empire’s secret guard. Even living at the palace, she’d never seen any real proof of them. Narpess had never mentioned them, and neither had the dowager empress. But stories of them persisted nevertheless. The Twelve were supposedly creations from before the Age of Blight. Many believed them imbued with powers – as they’d been made before so much was lost to the chaos of the Blight. Though no one trusted magic anymore.  Not after what had happened, not after Mad Manta. Those with the aptitude were closely scrutinized and controlled. Yet unlike so much else, the Twelve had seemingly survived and served the empire still, as spies and sometimes assassins, keeping the empire together. Or so the stories said.

But no one had ever seen them.  Or if they had, they’d not lived to tell about it.

Sylvanna quickened her steps.

#

The dowager empress chose to break her fast with her handmaidens in one of the larger gazebos of the extensive imperial gardens. The girls sat at a round glass table beside the dowager’s smaller, more intricate one – a bouquet of bright flowers in taffeta and silk, beside the thin, austere stalk in black.

“You’ve been with me for some years now, haven’t you, Sylvanna?”

The question caught her off guard and made her rattle her teacup as she set it back on its plate.

All conversation at the table died, every last one of them turning to look Sylvanna’s way.

“Y, yes. Almost nine years, Your Highness.” She couldn’t quite keep the slight quiver from her voice at the unwanted attention.

“You’ve been attentive; carried out your duties well. You even keep your tongue in check, which others would do well to emulate.” Trillena’s scathing glare scoured the rest of those at the table and one or two of the girls hunched down in their seats.

They would blame Sylvanna for the rebuke, of course, despite the fact she’d had nothing to do with it -- she was an easier target than the empress. They wanted nothing more than to be seen in the best light possible, not understanding their true standing in this place. It was but one of the many games Trillena liked to play – pitting them against each other.

“Such devoted service should be rewarded, don’t you think?”

Sylvanna cringed inside, knowing such favor would only bring her even more into her fellows’ unwanted attentions. “I live but to serve the throne, Your Highness. No rewards are necessary.”

“Be that as it may, I’m going to insist.” Trillena gave her a small smile. “I’ve arranged a match for you.”

For a moment, Sylvanna couldn’t breathe, the fanciful side of her filled with glee, assuming Narpess had spoken to his mother despite Sylvanna’s wishes and had convinced her to see things his way. But she knew better, she’d always known better. Still, there were worse things than to have your hand given away in marriage with the empress’s blessing. Except, she knew the woman was never kind without hidden reasons, and all of them to her gain. Narpy would be beside himself.

Sylvanna forced her heavy tongue to move. “You honor me, Your Highness.” She slipped off her seat into a curtsey. “Might I inquire as to whom I am to be united with?”

“You may.” The empress’s eyes glittered with barely concealed amusement. “To the handsome Trevor Simille, first son of Duke Simille.”

Sylvanna bowed her head, her chest suddenly tight, her cheeks flaming. The odious woman! Of all the people she could have chosen for a match and it just happened to be someone from the Simille family? She forced in a deep breath and looked up, slipping back into her seat before her shaking legs betrayed her. “That is…an unexpected…choice, Your Highness.”

“Of that I am quite sure, my dear.”

She couldn’t look at the dowager directly. If she saw the smug expression on the woman’s face, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to control herself. Simille, her family’s sworn enemies. And the dowager would be handing her over to them. Fear and anger warred inside for dominance. What slight had her father committed now, or was this just some long term calculated retribution?

“The joining of your two families will hopefully bring an end to the enmities of the past.”

That it would not! And she was quite sure it was the empress’s intention in the first place. This would only incite her father’s anger, divert his energies from anything he might want to achieve politically. It was a cruel distraction. The fact that over thirty years ago a young Duke Partan Simille and some of his cronies had crossed into their territories and run amok in a drunken pillage through one of their outlying villages, despoiling and killing the women, men, and children there and then setting the lot to the torch, wasn’t something they would ever forget. Simille bought off the officials sent for him after her father brought forth charges at the imperial court. The man had even had the gall to spread rumors that her father did this to his own people in order to discredit the Simille family, jealous of their prosperity. It was a point of honor and duty and her father’s main reason for wanting to make changes to policy. Lavish gifts to the crown and her officers should not dictate the justice for the realm and its people.

Her father would be livid at this insult. It would also break her poor mother’s heart. And what would happen to her at the hands of the Similles she shuddered to think about. Nothing good could come of this. And as Sylvanna finally dared glance up at Trillena’s face amidst all the congratulations (some heartfelt and others not) from her fellow maidens, she knew the empress was well aware of all of it.

What she couldn’t understand was what had prompted it. Had Narpy spoken to his mother about them? Or was this some twisted request of the Similles with too much gold being passed to the imperial coffers for the empress to refuse?

Sylvanna tried to smile and appear cheerful though her insides filled with despair.

The reason the empress had done this didn’t matter. It was her inescapable future she should be worried about.

#

“I won’t allow it!”

Sylvanna flinched as the book smacked against the angled roof of the secret room and fell with a tumble to the floor. “Narpy, there’s nothing to be done. My father cannot refuse. I cannot refuse. It’s an imperial decree.”

She turned her face away, trying to hold back the tears. She’d come to their special place the night before and sobbed herself to sleep, alone. She never heard the door open and had cried out in surprise when she’d been swept into Narpess’s arms. He’d still been wearing a jewel-studded jacket, most likely chosen by his mother to better make an impression on his hopeful paramour.

Though hours had passed since, he was no happier about what happened than when he first learned of it.

“Imperial decree be damned. I am the emperor!” Narpess smashed his fist against his chest. “I am the power here.” He paced the short length of the room and back. “Mother will see reason. I’ll make sure. What’s mine is mine. Not hers to do with as she sees fit.”

Looking upon him at that moment, Sylvanna didn’t recognize him. She’d never seen this hard expression on his face, but had on too many other occasions seen its equal on his mother’s. And rather than give her comfort, it made her more afraid than before. “Please, for both our sakes, for my family’s sake, don’t do anything rash. I beg of you.”

“Have you no faith in me?”

“It’s not that at all! This is just very dangerous. There could be repercussions we don’t know about. To my family, to the empire. The Similles are very wealthy. They wield a lot of power because of it. If she’s already told them of the match, it would be a great insult if it was suddenly taken away for no reason. They could withdraw their monetary support. This could have an effect on the court, on yourself.”

He wouldn’t like hearing it, but Sylvanna went on knowing he must see reason by any means necessary. “Your mother shields you from certain matters.” Something she suspected he was aware of and possibly encouraged, but she never dared ask about. Someone would have taken it upon themselves to inform him and try to profit from it if he weren’t.

“Never from anything actually important.” His nostrils flared. “So what specifically are you talking about?”

“I’ve not heard any of it directly, but there are rumors, and once or twice I’ve overheard comments from visitors after an audience. The empire is not as solvent as it should be.”

He waved at her with impatience. “That can’t be true. She would have told me. And why have you never mentioned it?”

“She’s very protective where you’re concerned, you know that.” Sylvanna shook her head. “And I didn’t want to trouble you. Our time together is to escape from what’s out there. I didn’t want to take that from you by bringing up such things.”

“That explains last night, then…” A snarl marred his face.

“What do you mean?” She was sure she wouldn’t be happy with what he was about to say.

Narpess started pacing again. “My new prospect for marriage – I thought her an odd choice – barely of age and not a foreigner like the others. Mother was even more insistent than usual before the meeting, about keeping an open mind, on making sure of a good impression. The girl’s name is Lareenial Simille.”

Sylvanna gasped, his words feeling like a blow, though they shouldn’t have.  That odious family would be tied to the throne? Surely the Maker would not allow such a terrible thing. “Do you see? There’s more than we know happening around us. We must be careful.”

“I will not lose you.” His stare was hard, his body stiff, fists coiled at his sides. “I will not.”

Although she couldn’t quite say why, rather than give her confidence or warmth, his words and manner filled her with dread.

#

“There you are!”

Sylvanna looked up from her stitching, though in truth, she’d paid little attention to her needle work that morning. Unlike the others, she’d chosen a remote corner of the dayroom – placing herself as far away from the dowager and the other women as she could. Upon her return to her official bedroom that morning, she’d found several of her gowns stained, her pillows ripped, and nails pounded in her shoes. The reprisals and jealous fits had started. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she actually wanted the match, but she did not.

She didn’t recognize the man standing eagerly before her. He was around her age, light brown hair made into a cascade of curls to his shoulders. He also wore more lace than she would know what to do with in a year. His face was round and pleasant, almost pretty, like a slightly overweight aunt’s, which was odd for a man. His clothes were of the newest styles, yet of a dark gray, and looked as if they’d just been freshly tailored.

“I’m sorry, do I know you, sir?” A part of her already knew and wanted nothing but to run, yet the rest of her refused to give him and the dowager the satisfaction.

“Oh, I beg your pardon. I am your future husband -- Trevor Simille.  At your service.” Putting one pointed shoe forward, he gave her a sweeping bow, his gaze never leaving her.

So they’d already been told. She shouldn’t have been surprised. If his sister was here, why wouldn’t he be? They were most likely in a hurry to finalize matters before anyone could object. Not that anyone would.

She tried to ignore the hard, nervous clench of her stomach.

“What can I do for you, Monsieur Simille?” Sylvanna tried to keep her tone pleasant, already feeling the curious stares of the others on them. No matter her personal feelings, she must keep this civil, her family the ones who’d be made to suffer for any insult. Had her father been informed of her future fate yet? Or were they hoping to have matters settled before he even knew their plans?

Fear and trepidation crowded in close, perspiration making a cold finger down her back.

“Oh, so formal. But then the very reason for my visit, mademoiselle.” He gave her a small, self-deprecating smile. “If we’re to be joined, I thought it would be wise to get to know each other better and hopefully set your mind at ease as well. You see, I hope we’ll be the messengers of peace between our two families. Bury the deeds of the pasts and make amends if possible. Much will depend on us.”

She couldn’t tell if he meant what he said or if it was only for the benefit of their audience. She supposed time would tell. “Then please sit.” She indicated the far end of the couch she was using.

Trevor sat closer than where she’d indicated, but not improperly so.

“I’m sure our match probably came as quite a shock to you.” He kept his voice low where the others might not overhear. “But please understand, it’s come purely with only the best intentions, despite the fact it will benefit our house. While he will never openly admit it, my father has long regretted the incidents of the past, the ones which put our families at odds. It is a weight I will inherit with his passing, and for which I hope to make amends. I believe the two of us can make up for his error.  My family’s fortune used to make the lives of both our peoples an envy to behold. If you are willing…”

Sylvanna studied his face wanting to believe but afraid to. If he truly meant what he said, life for all involved could prove happier than ever before. Her children a mingling of bloods that could make more of what was there. And even if love had no part in it, surely it’d be worth it.

A slight smile tugged at the edge of her lips. “If you speak truly, how could I not be?”

He gently took her hand in his. “You won’t regret this. I swear it.”

#

“I think it’s going to be all right, Narpy.”

The emperor lounged in a short chair reading a book, his coat and cravat on the floor. “What is?”

Sylvanna hesitated for just a moment, noticing the sunken look to his eyes, and how he was wearing powder beneath them. “The marriage your mother arranged. Trevor, I mean, Monsieur Simille, is not like his father, and seems quite earnest to repair the breach between our families.” She smiled, the memories of the last few days sweeter than she ever expected. “I might be able to have that gaggle of children sooner than I thought.”

“What?” Narpess lunged to his feet. “You’ve given yourself to him?”

She took a step back, startled. “No, of course not. We’ve been chaperoned at all times. Why would you think such a thing? It would be foolish to indulge before the wedding.”

“Then come here and prove it to me.” He slumped back into the chair, beckoning to her.

She stared at him, confused, and didn’t move closer. “Narpy, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I told you to come here.” He glared at her. “I am your emperor, do as I say!”

A chill tiptoed down her spine. “No, I don’t think I will. You’re supposed to be my friend, and I yours. Not a servant to piss on or order around whenever you feel like it.”

He sat forward, his lips pressing together into a thin line. “You’ve never denied me before.”

She stomped her foot. “You’ve never demanded before!” She tried hard to reign in her temper. “Besides, if I’m to be married, it’d be best if we stopped. I’ll always be your friend and we can meet until it’s time for me to leave, but the… the physical exercises should come to an end.”

His eyes narrowed to bare slits. “Just like that?”

She felt a pang of sadness, hurting her friend the last thing she’d ever wanted to do. “You knew this wasn’t forever, Narpy. We can only hide from our duties for so long.”

“Now you sound just like Mother.” His gaze was cold. “Go away if that’s what you want. Go fawn all over your precious Trevor.”

Tears prickled her eyes and she furiously blinked them away. She couldn’t do what he wanted, yet she didn’t have the faintest idea how to ease his pain without making things worse. She’d so hoped they could remain friends, but if this was the cost of saving her family and perhaps helping create a better future, so be it. “I’m sorry, Narpy. I really am.”

Giving him a deep curtsey, Sylvanna left the hidden room for what was probably the last time.

Again she almost ran into Narpess’s bodyguard out in the hallway. “Oh! Apologies.” She didn’t look at him directly hoping he’d not notice her wet cheeks.

“Be careful, mademoiselle.”

The deep gravelly voice surprised her. She doubted she’d ever heard the man speak before. Sylvanna nodded then went on her way, her mind frantically trying to figure out if he spoke of rushing into the hallway, or, as a budding kernel of fear exclaimed, meant something else entirely.

#

Sylvanna strolled down the path in the manicured garden, oblivious to the colored flowers around her or the sculpted bushes. Still within shouting distance of the others, she’d escaped, wanting a moment for herself.

“You seem troubled, my dove.”

She turned, startled that there was someone with her. Trevor bowed with a flourish and offered her a white rose with red tipped petals.

“How can I help?”

She blushed, though the reasons weren’t entirely clear to her. Was it because he’d noticed or because he’d offered to help or both? The more time she spent with him, the more she believed she could be very happy as his wife.

“It’s nothing, and you’ve already made it better by being here.” Even as she said it, she knew it was true. If only Narpy would understand, if he’d only try to be a little happy for her, her heart would soar. He was her friend, had been her lover, but to her own astonishment this man, this man could possibly be her love. She took the rose and allowed its light fragrance to weave over her.

“My sister, Lareenial, is quite jealous of us.” His eyes glittered for a moment then dimmed. “Though she’s met with the emperor several times now, he doesn’t seem to be warming up to her at all.”

“It must be very difficult for her.” She dreaded to think of the pressure the girl’s father might be putting on her to please Narpy. Guilty conscience or not, she doubted the duke would not do everything in his power to make the match happen. A sad twinge echoed through her. She couldn’t help Lareenial, and thus Trevor, despite all she knew about Narpess’s likes and dislikes. She wouldn’t be able to explain where the information came from. And too much was at stake.

He steered her towards one of the benches nestled in a set of high, shaped bushes which would give them some privacy. “Like I said before, my father is no longer the man people assume him to be. While he’d be overjoyed at the match, he realizes his wants are not always in the Maker’s plans. ”

Sylvanna nodded. “I wrote to my father. I explained to him everything you told me, and that…that I’m not averse to the match, so he need not worry over it.”

 Sitting where they were, it felt as if they were in a world all of their own making. They couldn’t stay unchaperoned and out of sight for long, or tongues would run wild, but for that moment, it felt utterly right.

The flashing smile on Trevor’s face even more so.  “I can’t wait for us to start our life together.”

She responded with one of her own. “Neither can I.”

When he leaned just a little toward her, she followed suit. Their first kiss was chaste and light, like two rose petals touching. For the next they were both a little bolder and it lasted much longer.

She was about to pull back to catch her breath when she felt someone slide onto the bench behind her and crushed her forward. Trevor’s lips pulled away from hers with a startled grunt. Sylvanna opened her eyes only to see his already open and unnaturally wide. They stared at whoever had trapped her between them. Hot breath coiled at her neck.

“You will not have her. She is mine.”

Recognition slapped her, making her gasp. Fear speared through her cold and hard.

There was movement at her side and then warmth gurgled over her dress. She brought up her hand and it was covered in red. “No…”

She glanced up at Trevor and saw his face grow pale, his eyes dimming.

“No!”

“Yes.” The glee in Narpess’s voice chilled her soul.

Trevor slumped forward, robbing her of breath as she sat pinned between the two men.

“Look at what you’ve done. But don’t worry, I’ll have mercy on you.”

Then the pressure behind her was gone and she heard the sound of metal striking stone.

Looking down, she saw a bloodied dagger on the walkway.

Holding onto Trevor, her love, her bright future, she pushed him gently back to look into his face again. His eyes were dark, his face slack - all signs of life were gone.

A scream tore across the garden and only belatedly did she realize it came from her.

Hurried footsteps came towards her and she held on that much harder onto Trevor. Other screams tore through the garden and several of the handmaidens swooned to the ground. Hardly able to breathe she watched in horror as the crowd of servants and girls parted as the dowager came forward.

“Help him. Please help him.” She held out Trevor’s unmoving form, hoping, praying someone could do something. “Help him!”

“Mother, stay back!”

The dowager and everyone else present turned in surprise. Narpess came at them, seemingly out of nowhere, with Lissan and a shorter man behind him.

“Woman, what have you done?”

The question, as it came from the one who should know better, almost paralyzed her tongue. Almost. “I, I did not do this! You know I didn’t!”

“The dagger at your feet and the blood on your dress would state otherwise.” She’d never heard Narpess sound so cold. “You won’t be able to talk your way out of this, sorceress.”

Gasps rang all around. Those gathered round as one took a step back, murmurs filling the air.

Sylvanna’s heart skipped. What was he saying? She was no sorceress. They were all tested at birth for the ability; if she’d had it, she would have been given to the care of the guild. Before she could say anything else, Narpess made a gesture at the shorter of the two men with him.

The plain faced man made several odd gestures with his hands. It was then Sylvanna finally recognized him, the knowledge causing fear to punch through the growing numbness. It was the court wizard. But she’d not realized it was him without the robe he normally wore over his clothes. And without them, you’d never give that face a second glance.

He wouldn’t look at her directly.

Sylvanna tried to deny the charge only to find her voice gone. Her hand rose to her throat but no matter how much she tried to speak or scream, no sound came from her mouth.

“Narpess, let the palace guard handle this.” The dowager came forward her keen gaze moving from him to the wizard to Sylvanna to Trevor’s body and back again.

“Oh, I don’t think so, Mother. I’ve left too many things to others for too long. It’s about time I truly took my proper place in the world.”

Sylvanna trembled, as surprised if not more so than the dowager at his degrading tone. Madness. It was all madness.

“You there!” Narpess pointed at two servants standing unobtrusively behind the others. “Take the body to the surgeon’s.”

They darted glances in the dowager’s direction.

“ Do not look at her. I am your emperor. You will do as you’re told now.”

“Narpess, you’re distraught.” Trillena made calming gestures with her hands, but also looked wary as if she did not recognize her own flesh and blood and expected to be bit at any moment. “There are people to handle these things. Let them.”

Narpess ignored her and glared at the servants. “Do as I’ve told you or I will have you whipped!”

The two men rushed forward. Sylvanna shook her head as she held onto Trevor unwilling to part from him. His body all she had left of him.

As the servants hesitated, Lissan strode forward and gently, but undeniably pried the body from her. Under his breath, so softly she doubted he even spoke, Lissan said, “There are worse fates than death.”

Heart suddenly hammering in her chest, she saw the truth of what he said in his eyes, despite the fact she didn’t understand it. As he pulled away and the servants recovered Trevor’s body, she remembered the dagger on the walkway.

She lunged off the bench to grab it and end herself.

“Stop her!”

Narpess’s command rang in her ears as her fingers wrapped themselves around the weapon. A sharp pain at her wrist made her drop it. She stared at the glinting metal, her one means of escape, as she was pulled away from it. Someone held her fast as Narpess came close with quick, curt steps.

The slap across the face shocked her more than hurt her, but made her look into the face of the man she’d thought had been her friend.

“Fool! I’m doing all this for us.” He brought his face close, using the body of the man holding her to keep anyone from seeing. “Stop fighting me!”

Tears welled in her eyes and ran unchecked down her face. How had she never seen this in him? How had none of them?

He stepped back and picked up the dagger, tucking it away. “Frayden, bring her along. Tellos and Lissan, follow me please. Mother, do come as well.” He gave her a wave of his hand as if adding her in were but a bothersome detail, as if she’d not been running and ruling the empire for the decade since his father’s unexpected death.

The dowager straightened, a blank mask slamming over her face.

Sylvanna was grateful for the man holding her, not sure she could have walked otherwise. Perhaps this was a nightmare, one she would wake from at any moment. But even as she thought it she knew it was a lie.

The hallways of the palace were unusually silent as the small group entered inside. Narpess led them to his mother’s office, a place he’d sat by her side often, learning what she deigned to show him of the empire’s business.

Sylvanna was led to a wide chair and allowed to sit. She gasped with surprise as a handkerchief seemed to appeared on her lap out of nowhere. Looking up, she saw the face of them man who’d helped her here, young and blond with very sad eyes, which quickly looked elsewhere. Not wanting to think on it, she dabbed at her face with the kerchief, too numb for anything else.

“Tellon, seal the room.”

The wizard nodded then made more gestures with his hands, never once looking in Sylvanna’s direction. “It is done, sir.”

Narpess dropped into his mother’s chair and draped a leg over its expensive armrest.

Trillena glared at him, her displeasure at his lack of decorum there for all to see, but he only smiled at her, though before such a look from her would have had him sitting up straight. “Narpess, explain yourself.”

“Mother, I’m the emperor, I have to do no such thing.” He sat forward, the leg coming off the armrest, and set his elbows on her desk. “But I will, for you, just this once.” The smile faded and hard lines marked his face. “Because I want no misunderstandings… I’m taking what is mine and you will do nothing.”

Trillena shook her head. “You’re not making any sense.”

But Sylvanna understood and she felt cold, very cold.

Narpess slapped his hand on the desk. “I’ve allowed you to coddle me for too long, Mother.” He stood as if to emphasize the point. “I’m the most powerful man in the empire, yet everything is taken from me. Things are hidden from me. But no more. Things will occur at my whim from now on, not yours.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying-“

He pulled the dagger from his coat and stabbed the table. “Silence!” He shook where he stood as if fighting to restrain himself.

The dowager took a step back. Fear flared on her face then was quickly subdued; her composure back in place, but it had cracks.

Tears prickled at Sylvanna’s eyes. She’d been such an utter fool. They all had.

“Oh, don’t worry, Mother, I will marry that useless girl for her money. I will make the necessary sacrifice for the empire.”

“Why are you talking to me like this? I’ve only ever had your happiness and future in mind. You are my son.”

Sylvanna couldn’t help staring. Had the woman truly thought all her invisible chains and manipulations were in his best interests and not her own? 

“Be that as it may, all that’s finished now. I’ve been very busy these last few days. Looking into what else you might not have told me for my happiness. I even found out all I need to know about the Twelve.”

The dowager raised a hand to her chest, appearing surprised. “You had one of them murder Simile?”

“No, Mother. He wasn’t worth it. I did that.”

Frayden appeared at the dowager’s side and helped her sit as she swayed where she stood. Sylvanna blinked sure she’d not seen him move across the room. Was he one of them…? Her temples throbbed.

“And they shall be extensions of my will, as planned when they were first created. And my will alone. They will protect the imperial line, but it is my commands as Melak’s Avatar which they will obey above all others – not yours. Your time leading our people is done. And with them at my side, no one will be able to say different – and live.”

He turned his attention to Sylvanna, dismissing the dowager as if she’d suddenly ceased to exist.

How had this happened? Surely he’d not changed this much purely because she was going to leave him for another! He could not have been dependent on her that much, could he? Guilt and shame rose inside her. But how was she to know? What could she have done differently?

“Dearest, I know everything must seem confusing to you at the moment, but I tell you all is going according to plan.” He smiled and it was a happy smile, one she’d not seen from him in some time. Yet it made no sense to her whatsoever.

She looked everywhere but directly at him.

He pulled a parchment from his vest. “This will makes everything perfect. I signed it yesterday, as certain steps had to be taken before others could happen.”

She didn’t understand the almost underhanded glance he threw in Lissan’s direction.

“But it will be posted soon and be made official throughout the land.”

For a short second Sylvanna’s hopes rose then died. Nothing on that paper could put right what had been done to Trevor. Nothing it said could erase the emperor’s accusation of sorcery before all those witnesses.

Much to her surprise, she found she had her voice back. “What…what is it?”

His smile grew bright. “Your condemnation as a traitor for the murder of Monsieur Simille and also your execution orders.”

Sylvanna blinked rapidly her mind not able to process the words right away, the room swaying around her. Maybe she was the one who’d gone insane.

“Lissan, a drink for our guest.”

The tall bodyguard came forward her holding out a cup. Sylvanna stared at it, not taking it, wondering if she could be fortunate enough for it to be poisoned. Then all this madness would end. Her hands shook as took the offered drink.

“Go on. It will make you feel better. Then we can discuss the rest.”

Her throat grew dry. There was more to this insanity? She drained the cup hoping the dark contents might make her choke. The fine vintage made her tongue tingle – perhaps it was part of the condemned’s last meal. But how could one enjoy it knowing it was the end?

“Good. Good!” Narpess looked even more pleased than before. “Your execution will be faked, of course. And rumors are already circulating about how odd you’ve been acting for sometime -- disappearing from your rooms, keeping yourself aloof from other people, things like that.  Basically what everyone will be saying is that you’ve been ill, up here,” he tapped the side of his head, “for a while. Everyone knows how magic warps the mind. The impact to your family will be minimized. The empire will even make reparations to them, for we should have seen the signs and gotten you help before tragedy struck.”

Sylvanna stared at her lap, her chest so tight she thought it might cave in. Her family, her father! Though he tried to sugar coat it, her family would be impacted -- her mother and father would blame themselves for ever having allowed her to be brought to the capital. And reparations? It was more like a bribe to just let things go. “The Similles…”

“They’ve nothing to complain about. I’m going to marry that daughter of theirs, which should more than make up for their loss.”

Cold. She felt so cold. How could he be so callous about all of this? He killed a man! He killed her love, her future! “But why? Why?”

His whole face changed to a brooding, dark expression. “Because you’re mine. And what is mine will stay mine.” Then the weird transformation to happiness again. What had happened to the friend who cared for her? Who thought about her feelings?

“You’re to be moved to a villa not far from the capital. After the wedding is done with and I figure out my routine, you’ll be brought back and settled in a nice place in the city. We’ll figure out how to meet up again then and be as we’ve always been.”

She stared at his face, not sure how he could believe such a thing. Something had broken. But when or how, she wasn’t sure. She’d never thought she could mean so much to him he’d kill to keep her. She wouldn’t stay, however, no matter what he thought. She would kill herself at the first opportunity if need be.

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking.  You’ve always been so very stubborn. But it’s too late now.”

The smugness in his tone made her shiver.

Narpess laughed and came to her. Sylvanna cringed in the chair and tried to pull back as he took her hand.

“The pact has been sealed. And it will solve everything to everyone’s satisfaction. Mother need not even worry about accidental children and I won’t worry that you’ll ever try to leave me again.”

She stared at him. She wouldn’t have children or leave him? He was still a fool. “I will not cooperate with you.”

“But, dearest, you already have! You’ve already taken the step to becoming part of the Twelve. And it’s one which can’t be undone.” He looked at the cup still in her hand.

She dropped it, not knowing what it meant, and not wanting to.

Narpess’s smile was very bright. “Fraydin, please show her what she can expect to happen soon, won’t you?”

The blond’s brown gaze locked with hers. She could have sworn he was asking for forgiveness.

For a moment, she didn’t even realize anything was happening. But then Fraydin’s eyes changed color to a bright gold, his face elongating even as his hair was sucked back into his body. Scales wiggled out from beneath his skin like living insects to form a shell around him.

Soon all trace of the handsome young man was gone.  All that remained was a monster with slit eyes and a long tongue flickering in the air as miniscule strings of lightning coursed across the scaly skin.

“You will never ever leave me again, beloved.”

Sylvanna screamed.

The End

Make you hungry for more?  Check out the first three chapters of the book here.

Happy Reading!