Beautiful Beast

Chapter 22

KALISTA

The flames lick up the fabric and touch the wood beneath. There is a wild thrashing within the cage as the wolf attempts to flee, but it is impossible. The fire eats up the wood so that the wolf is completely encompassed by flame. Through the red and orange tongues, I can see a distorted view of the creature. It madly turns about, but suddenly stops and turns toward me. Even through the fire, I can see its rage. Lowering to its haunches, it winds its muscles and springs toward me. The moment it touches the fire, it bursts into a cloud of ashes. These black particles hang in the air for a breath, then explode.

A green light accompanied by a sharp wind shoots from the pyre and flies toward us. It knocks me from my feet, and I land heavily on the ground. But I quickly scramble to sit up so I might see the path of this magical gust. It races toward the palace and I fear that it will level the building, but it passes through the stone and continues its track to the border of the forest. Only moments later, there is a loud snap like a bolt of thunder, and above us, green light flashes then disappears.

"What does it mean?" Arawn whispers. I wonder the same. Did it work? Were we successful? There is one way to find out.

I gather my black gown in my fists and hurry down the pebble drive. "Cedric, bring me the mirror."

As I step over the entrance to the palace, the mirror comes whirling down the staircase. I reach for it and hold it before my face. Arawn is beside me, looking over my shoulder at the glassy surface.

"Show me Galinda," I command, and the mirror blurs. When it clears, I see chaos. It is the room in which Galinda had sat in before, but it is now in turmoil. Tapestries litter the floor, the throne is on its side, shattered glass sparkles, and spilled wine pools across the floor like blood. Or is it blood? I am not sure I want to know. In the center of it all, Galinda rages like a wild lion. Her blonde hair lies in a tangled mess on her back, her eyes are bloodshot, her face wrinkled, and the grey fabric of her dress is stained red on her left shoulder. My arrow struck true last night.

Suddenly, she spins to look at us. "You will regret this. I will make you suffer till you are begging me for mercy," she screams and spittle flies with each word.

"You do not have power over me anymore," I say, then turn the mirror facedown and hand it to Cedric.

A grin spreads across Arawn lips. "We won. Didn't we?"

"Yes, we won." I smile with pure, delicious joy and throw my arms around Arawn's neck. He lifts me off my feet and spins me about in circles. I laugh and it is a good and free feeling—I cannot remember the last time I felt so light.

Arawn sets me down and says, "We must celebrate. Cedric, bring us cakes and tarts."

"And some wine," I add.

"Sweets and wine? A strange combination for breakfast." Arawn laughs and slips his arm about my waist. We ascend to the library where we settle in two tapestry chairs and discuss the details of our success. Victory tastes sweet and we are both drunk with it. If we defeated her once, perhaps we can do it again. Our hope is stronger than it has ever been before. Is that dangerous? I wish only to revel a little while.

"My lady," Cedric says, announcing his arrival. He sets a tray with a bottle of wine and a plate of chocolates on the round table between Arawn and I. While Cedric pours the wine, I pick up a chocolate and place it in my mouth. The sweet treat melts upon my tongue and fills my mouth with its luscious flavour. Arawn reaches for his glass of wine, but I close my eyes, savouring the sweetness and remembering when my brothers used to sneak me chocolates. They would come to visit me and the moment my nanny turned the other way, they would pass me a little box of chocolates. It was a game to them and besides, they loved doting on their youngest sister.