Heartless

“I could stay away no longer.” He dropped the hat and held out both arms. “Will you come to me, Una? Now?”


She ran two steps forward, her footsteps echoing under the bridge. But she paused. “Lionheart,” she said. “My prince, have you killed the Dragon?”

His arms dropped loosely to his sides. “No,” he said. “No, m’lady, I am not yet a prince. I remain only your jester.” He turned, and shadows from the trees crept over him. “I know you cannot love me, only a jester.”

“Wait!” she called. “Leonard, come back! I do love you just as you are. You don’t have to slay a dragon. You don’t have to be a prince!”

“No,” he said, stepping back into the darkness. “No, you cannot love only a – ”

“My love, come back!”

She tried to run but fell.

She woke up.

Her breath came quickly. She closed her eyes and bowed her head. Sometimes the dreams were so cruelly real.

“Oh, Leonard,” she whispered, “why don’t you return?”

The orange glow of sun was almost gone, and the grays of twilight settled heavily around her. She rose to go, stepping off the bridge into the crunch of leaves and twigs on the path.

“Hello, Una.”

She spun around and screamed.

On the far side of the bridge stood the Dragon.





16

He stepped onto the Old Bridge, and the great shadows of his wings folded around him, and she saw that he wasn’t a dragon. He was a man, and the wings were a long black cloak. His skin was white, white without life, like a thin gauze overlying deeper darkness. His eyes were onyx stones, but within the blackness of each stone shone red fire.

Una choked on her scream and stood with her hands pressed to her throat. She swallowed, and her chest heaved as though she’d held her breath a long while.

The man with the white face smiled, one corner of his mouth turning up before the other, and revealed beneath his lips long, black teeth. He stepped across the bridge, his tall boots knocking hollowly on the wooden planks.

“Hello, Una,” he repeated.

“Who are you?” she gasped. Her feet were as if rooted to the ground.

His chuckle was deep and smooth as a cat’s purr. “Oh, Una, you know me.”

She swallowed again, and her breath rattled her lungs. He drew nearer, the smile still twisting the lower half of his face. His shadow, great as a tree’s, fell over her like nightfall. His hair was black against his white, white face and seemed to wave and twine about his temples like flames. The air around her thickened, and her hands tightened on her own throat. Una could feel the burns sharp as knife wounds across her fingers.

His smile broadened. “Yes,” he said, showing all his black teeth. “I have waited a long time for this. You have the right fire, haven’t you? It is well I won the game.”

She tried to speak, but her tongue pressed uselessly against clenched teeth.

He leaned forward. She felt the heat of him and thought her face would burn. His lips drew together, and his face neared hers.

In the last possible moment before she suffocated, Una jerked her head away. She drew in gulps of cool night air and rubbed her neck where her fingernails had dug into her skin.

The man with the white face took a step back and licked his lips.

“Pardon me,” he said, his voice velvety soft. “I see you are not yet ready. Invite me to your home.”

Her voice scraped painfully through her throat. “I don’t want you in my home.”

“You do,” he said. “Invite me to your home.”

“No.” Una felt the boil of tears in her eyes.

“Invite me to your home, Una.”

She pressed her hands to her mouth, but tears spilled over and scalded her fingers.

“Una.”

“Will you come home to supper?” Una asked.

“Good girl,” the man with the white face said.

Nurse was in the garden looking for Una. “By Bebo’s crown, girl, where have you been?” she cried when Una stepped into the light of the garden lamps on the arm of the man with the white face. Nurse started when she noticed him. “Who in the – Oh!”

She gasped and drew back, her hands held out before her.

“Good evening,” the man said, smiling. “Is the family already at supper?”

Nurse nodded. Una could not look at her but fixed her gaze on her boots instead.

“Good,” the man said. “We shall join them. I have an invitation to dine. Lead us there.”

“Princess?” Nurse spoke in a small, trembling voice.

“Do as he says,” Una whispered.

Nurse led them to the door and held it for them. Una, her arm looped through the man’s elbow, felt held as though by an iron chain. She did not try to resist his pull.

Monster lurked just inside and trilled a greeting at his mistress but froze still as a statue save for the tip of his nose twitching on his blind face. Suddenly his lips drew back in a snarling hiss. He arched his back and screeched a hideous caterwaul, then darted away up the hall, his tail bristling behind him as he fled.

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