A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #1)(3)

“What was that?” Hannon asked, his temperament far sweeter than mine, though that wasn’t much of an accomplishment. I’d set the bar pretty low.

“Nothing,” I murmured. It wasn’t ladylike to swear, or so the people of our antiquated village always reminded me. It was equally unladylike to flip them off after they scowled at me. Very uptight, this village, and without two coppers to rub together, the lot of us.

My father convulsed, spasming with each wet cough.

Hands shaking, fighting to remain calm, I crushed the leaves with the pestle. A pungent aroma, like ripe cheese mixed with garlic, blasted my senses. They might be small leaves, but they were full of healing magic.

My father lunged toward the side of the bed.

Hannon was there in a moment, sitting beside him and bringing up the bucket from the floor. He helped Father lean over the lip and retch. There’d be blood in that throw-up, I well knew.

“Focus,” I told myself softly, shaking two drops of rainwater off my fingertip and onto the crushed leaves. I’d collected those in the dead of night. That seemed to work best.

That done, I sprinkled in the other herbs, which were much easier to come by—a sprig of rosemary, one leaf of dill, a splash of cinnamon. And, finally, the ingredient that was almost as important as the everlass—the full, healthy petal of one red rose.

It had to be red, too. The others didn’t work nearly so well. I had no idea what red roses had to do with this curse or the demons, but the effects of that ingredient increased the potency of the elixir tenfold. It made me think there were one or two more ingredients out there that I hadn’t tried yet that would act as a cure. A long-term cure where we didn’t need more and more draught just to see the same effects. Something that would null the sickness altogether. If it was out there, I’d find it. Hopefully in time to save Father.

Father’s groan spurred me on. A rattled breath struggled through his tightened throat. At least he had a strong heart. A heart attack had taken Mother a year ago. Her body had been under too much pressure, and her heart gave up the fight. I hadn’t been as good at the nulling elixir then. Father had more time.

He has to have more time.

“Honestly, Dash is right. We need more supplies,” I said, working the pestle. “Our plants aren’t enough.”

“I thought you said yesterday that no one else had any left either?”

“Not that they are willing to spare, no.”

Everyone had ailing parents and maybe one or two ailing grandparents, if they were lucky. Our resources were tapped.

“Well then, where are you…” He let the words drift away. “No.”

“I don’t have much choice, Hannon. Besides, I’ve been in and out of that field a bunch of times over the last few years with no problems. At night, even. The beast probably doesn’t patrol the Forbidden Wood anymore.”

My hands started to shake, and I stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. Lying to Hannon was one thing—he was a trusting soul and wanted to believe me—but I wasn’t foolish enough to believe my own lies. Just because I hadn’t seen the beast in any visits since the first, that did not mean he’d given up hunting trespassers. Our village was at the edge of the kingdom, and I was sneaky. I took great pains to ensure I wasn’t seen. I heard the roars, though. He was out there, waiting. Watching. The ultimate predator.

The beast wasn’t the only danger in the wood, either. Terrible creatures had been set loose by the curse, and unlike the beast, they didn’t seem to be hindered by the tree line. They used to burst out of the Forbidden Wood and eat any villagers out after dark. Occasionally they’d barge through a front door as well, and eat villagers out of their homes.

It hadn’t happened in a long time. None of us understood why they’d left us be, but they were still in the wood. I’d heard their roars, too. That place was a clusterfuck of danger.

“It’s fine,” I reaffirmed, even though he hadn’t rebuffed me vocally. “The everlass field is close. I’ll just nip in really quickly, grab what I need, and get out. I have a great sense of direction in that place. In and out.”

“Except it is two days until the full moon.”

“That’ll just help me see better.”

“It’ll also increase the beast’s power. He’ll smell better. Run faster. Chomp harder.”

“I don’t think a soft chomp would be any better than a hard one, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll be quick. I know the way.”

“You shouldn’t know the way.”

But from the way he said it, I knew Hannon was giving up the fight. He didn’t have any more steam to talk me out of going. I kind of hoped he’d try harder.

I grimaced when I’d meant to smile, and my stomach started to churn. I did need to go. And I had gone a bunch these last few years and come back safely.

I’d hated it every time.

“When?” Hannon asked somberly.

“The leaves are the most potent when harvested at night,” I said, “and we are on borrowed time, like you said. No time like the present.”

“Are you absolutely sure you need to go?”

I let my shoulders sag for a moment. “Yes.”





An hour later, I stood in the front room with a tweed crossbody bag draped across my sternum. The plant seemed to respond best when carried in this type of bag. I’d gotten the tip from a book and proven the theory with trial and error.