Beauty of Rosemead: A Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (Fairytales of Folkshore Book 5) by Lucy Tempest

Author:Lucy Tempest [Tempest, Lucy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Folkshore Press
Published: 2019-09-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Deep as my slumber was, it was not dreamless.

But considering the slew of strange events my worn-out mind conjured up, I wished it had been.

I dreamt of a ghost in a castle covered in giant briars and an ice sculpture set before a mirror that whispered unnerving promises. The dream became of a girl with long, pale hair sinking into murky depths, while the world above glowed a sickening green. What rose back up in her dress, was a green-haired frog. What followed it out of the water was a red-haired mermaid carrying the body of man with bull horns and red wine spilling from his mouth.

The dream shifted to a very tall girl with wavy, golden hair, walking over a land that cracked beneath her feet, vines twisting up and out to rope her ankles and drag her into the earth.

Then the Horned God with his stag skull and purple cloak turned to me, and in his bone-white hands was the body of the golden-haired girl, her face blank but her eyes glowing a menacing green. Her empty, sunken chest cavity was filled with dirt and miniature crop fields, and trees grew out from where her heart and lungs should be.

The sight struck me with such fear, I awoke with a strangled scream.

Kicking against the heavy duvet, I fell out of bed and into a patch of sunlight spilling from a mounted eyebrow window. Outside, I could hear children laughing and people shouting orders.

Groggy, but intrigued, I hobbled over to the light and pressed my face to the cool glass to watch as a group of men pulling ropes from different directions lifted a massive, carved log upright, with others running around making arrangements for the bonfire.

That reminded me where I was, that what had happened since we’d gone to Nexia had not been a long-winded dream.

I was really in Faerie, and I was the spawn of a thousand-year-old smith, who’d lived when legends were being made, and a shifty fairy courtier, whose dangerous secrets had them fleeing back to the end of the human world—and had likely gotten her killed.

Recoiling from that thought, as if I had burned my hand on a hot stove, I tried to think of less disturbing things. But each consecutive thought that leapt up to take its place was more unbearable, making me want to avoid checking the silver mirror again for another glimpse at the current condition of my best friend, or the rose for the remaining time of my new friends.

But whether I liked it or not, I had to know.

A knock came at the door, stopping me before I could check either.

Ella poked her head in, eyes half-shut against the light, looking as bone tired as I felt.

She yawned wide and loud. “That was the longest sleep I’ve ever had. I’m used to being up at the crack of dawn and getting smacked around if I didn’t have breakfast in their rooms by now.”

“If we ever have the misfortune of coming across those people again, promise me you’ll break those glass shoes over their heads.

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