Once Upon a Time: New Fairy Tales Paperback

“Do what?”


“You want your freedom, don’t you?”

Emer nodded. The Black Bride mirrored the movement and went on.

“Retrieve something for me, and we’ll see what we shall see about that.”

“That’s hardly a bargain,” Emer said, surprised at her boldness.

The Black Bride ignored her.

“I’ve sent that lot many times.” She shrugged dismissively towards the milling crowd of ravens, “and all they’ve brought back are excuses and complaints about the loss of this cousin or that brother. What I need can be obtained only by someone with pure intent—and we both know that’s not me—once it’s taken, of course, it can be handed over to whomever the acquirer pleases. It seems a fair price to me, for your liberty.”

“And my mother—her life, freedom, her true form,” Emer said.

She had listened for so long to the Black Bride’s tricksy tongue, to conditions that seemed carelessly worded but were not, to deals she’d made with all those princes who now wore fluffy tails and pointed ears.

“Very well, clever little miss.” The woman frowned, curious. “What did you think about? When you were bird-brained?”

? 204 ?

? Angela Slatter ?

“Worms. Sky. Flight.” Home. Mother. Father. Emer’s short life had been determined by the whims and demands of others; therefore, she chose to keep some truths for herself this time.

“Ah.” The Black Bride seemed disappointed, and sat back on the moth-eaten damask cushions of her throne. “So. There is a castle atop a mountain of glass, almost a day’s distance. Inside is a very special crown, which you will retrieve.”

“And how do I climb slopes of glass? Will you give me wings again?”

“No, I can’t trust you not to fly away. You said yourself, in that form all your thoughts were those of birds—you’ll lose focus, grow forgetful.” She shook her head. “In the stables, there’s a horse— actually there are many, but you can’t miss this one. A suitable beast, but with a foul temper.” The Black Bride sighed. “You’re a clever girl, Emer, so listen carefully: there are no second chances for you. If you do not return here before the turning of a day and a night with the crown, I will kill your mother. Understand? I’m sick with waiting.”

“Is there a map?” Emer inquired stiffly.

“Follow the river—that’ll be map enough.”

“What’s so special about this crown?” demanded the girl, her spirit growing the longer she stood on her own two fleshy feet.

The Black Bride’s eyes slid to the animal in the cage at her feet.

“Enough questions. Go, and be quick about it.”

The bird had spent all the time since they’d left the castle pattering across the horse’s broad shoulders, up and down its neck, and making occasional forays onto saddle’s pommel. In turn, the roan had not stopped whickering in irritation and shaking itself hard enough that both bird and rider were almost dislodged. The raven—Bertók by name—also kept up an unrelenting monologue.

“And that,” he said with a meaningful look at the gingham bundle tied behind Emer, “if I’m not mistaken, is a loaf of bread and a flask of wine that will never run out. Purely magical, very valuable. The dog, I’m sure, was not meant to give you that.”

? 205 ?

? Flight ?

A tired-looking Alsatian with sad eyes, green waistcoat, fawn breeches, and mauve frock coat, had been instructed to find Emer clothes and food and send her on her way. He’d led her to a room decorated with colorful arras, furniture of pale honey wood, and brightly bleached linens. An alcove housed a tub; ancient copper plumbing rattled as the valet drew a bath. In all the past months, Emer had never suspected a room like this existed here.