Home > Midnight Beauties(4)

Midnight Beauties(4)
Author: Megan Shepherd

She could only stare at him. Black rainbows? Double moons?

“I watched British Pretties step into a time loop and never come out again,” he added quietly, his eyes flashing. “Entire families choked by black smoke. Schoolchildren driven mad by the two moons. I’m not the only one torn apart by what the witches are doing; I’m just the only one able to put myself back together again.”

Anouk thought of a fairy tale that Luc had told her, “White to Red.” Once, in a kingdom by salt-encrusted cliffs called the White Coast, there was a string of prosperous cities that traded with one another in a spirit of innovation and equity. A handsome king ruled the northernmost city, Kosu. One day a sea witch emerged from the waves and fell in love with him, but when he told her his heart belonged to another, the witch cursed his city with a plague. The rulers of the other cities on the White Coast, fearing her wrath, did nothing to help, and everyone in Kosu fell ill and died. But then the illness spread to all of the cities. One by one they fell, and for centuries the kingdom was known as the Red Coast. Hundreds of years later, children’s rhymes still held warnings:

Cities falling one by one

White to Red

White to Red

A coughing girl, a bleeding son

Love the witch or you’ll be dead.

 

That was why Rennar had come to her door. London had fallen, and they didn’t have the luxury of watching the tragedy from a distance. Tragedy, like evil, had a way of spreading.

“Do you understand?” Rennar asked.

“We’ve scrambled for our lives,” she said softly. “Now we have to scramble for our world.”

He nodded gravely. “I can’t defeat the Coven of Oxford on my own. Neither can you.” An almost regretful look wavered in his eyes. “Wearing the crown means making difficult decisions. Knowing when to hold on to power and when to give it up. I’m tired, Anouk. Tired of these silent wars over magic. Tired of feuds with witches and the other Courts. It’s time for all that to end. For too long, power has been in the wrong hands. We want the same thing now, you and I. It will be a scramble for both of us.”

She blinked in surprise. Tired of ruling?

She’d never much wondered what life was like for someone like him, someone with all the world’s power at his fingertips. He might have been alive for centuries, but now he was only a young man alone on her doorstep without any shoes on, asking for help, admitting that his power was unearned, that it belonged in the hands of the Goblins, the beasties, even the Pretties.

She leaned against the railing, wondering whether or not to believe him. She could think of worse things than a prince needing her help. To be honest, she would enjoy watching him beg.

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

Anouk tilted her chin high. “Do you mean that? That power should change hands and you’ll do what you must to make that happen?”

“I swear it,” Rennar said.

She raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe that a Royal would willingly give up power, but she would play along if it freed her from the townhouse. “I can’t help you like this. Trapped here, starving to death.”

“Shall I summon you a feast?”

She leveled a hard glare at him. “You need me because I can wield magic with no consequences. But look at me. Look at the scars. I used a mending spell for buttons to sew up this wound. That’s the best I can do.” She didn’t try to hide her arm this time. “Did you never wonder why I kept trying to leave? Why I kept fighting your crows?” Her eyes flashed. “I was going to the Cottage.”

“The Schwarzwald?” he scoffed. “That’s an awful idea.”

“It’s a place where Pretty girls go to become witches.”

“It’s a place where Pretty girls go to die. No, it’s impossible. I won’t allow it.”

Her pulse raced. She didn’t dare look at him for fear that his piercing gaze would see straight into her heart, see that, yes, she’d heard the stories, she knew the risks, and she was just as afraid as she should be.

“I need strong magic, Rennar. Witch magic. Without it, I can’t turn back Beau and Cricket and Luc and Hunter Black, and I can’t fight the Coven of Oxford.”

He scowled. “You’ve never been to the Cottage. I have. Royals from all the near realms travel there every wintertide to witness girls die in the Coal Baths.”

“I know about the Coal Baths.”

“You may have heard of them, but no stories match the reality. The ceremony lasts three days. There’s a feast the night before for the girls who are about to risk their lives, and then in the morning, we light the blue flames and observe as the acolytes enter, one by one. The odds are bleak. Most years, only one out of ten girls survives. Some years, none at all. The rest burn so completely that even their bones vanish. And do you know what we do while this is happening? We drink wine. We eat chocolate Bethmännchen. Because we’ve seen so many girls die, Anouk, it means nothing to us. The only time we care is when one survives, because then we can use her. Every realm wants the loyalty of a fresh witch.”

Anouk traced the stitching on her arm. It might have been rough, but it had done the job. “My chances are as good as anyone’s. Better. I can already do some tricks and whispers.”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “Magic won’t save you from the Coals. That isn’t how they work. Perhaps if you had years to study there, or even months. But wintertide is in six weeks. It’s impossible.”

“They said it was impossible for a beastie to cast spells. They said it was impossible to stand up to Mada Zola at Montélimar.” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you need to reconsider your use of that word.”

He stepped as close to her as the protection spell allowed. “Come with me, Anouk. I’ll train you myself.” He held out his hand. The same one that had imprisoned her friends.

Her own hands curled at her sides. “No. It’s my turn to make you a deal. Give me my friends back. Call off your crows. Grant me safe passage to the Cottage. I’ll undergo the Baths and I’ll survive. Then, when I am a witch, I’ll help you with London.”

Slowly, he paced, barefoot, his marble foot scuffing against the stone step. “I am fond of deals,” he said at last, “but I’ll counter yours with my own. There are three beasties you care about in my possession, so I will make you three bargains. If Viggo and your Goblin guests come with me as collateral, I’ll free Luc and turn him human. If you become a witch and swear loyalty to my realm, I’ll free Hunter Black and turn him human. If you agree to become my princess, I’ll free Cricket.”

“And turn her human.”

“By then, you’ll be a witch. You’ll be powerful enough to turn her back yourself.”

Anouk narrowed her eyes, trying to find a trap in his words. “Why do you care if I’m your princess? We don’t need to be married to work together.”

His eyes flashed. “Royal weddings happen rarely. When one does, not only must all Courts send a delegation to attend, but they also are bound to grant the new couple a Nochte Pax—​think of it as a wedding gift. If we’re going to achieve our goal, we’ll need the help of the other Royals. They won’t be able to refuse our Nochte Pax request.”

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