Disenchanted (11 page)

She slipped inside.

The ice spiral stairs had a black
carpet running up the centre. Each room she peeked into had ice furniture. She
crept down some steps. The narrow passage gradually became steeper and darker.
The walls weren't smooth like the rest of the palace. Obviously the way to the
dungeon didn't deserve the same breath taking beauty. She touched the frozen
wall, using it to guide her down. At the base of the stairs she discovered a
gate. A tall guard blocked it. Before he unsheathed his sword, she hurled her
dagger. It lodged in his throat and he crumpled to the floor, gagging. She
removed the Dragon's Breath from her bag and freed the cork. The liquid inside
ignited. She held it against the bars. A flame snaked up them, the ice popping
as it melted.

She ducked through the hole,
frigid water trickling down her back as she dragged the guard in. Yanking her
dagger free, she chipped ice off the walls to conceal the scarlet trail.
Ythan
sat huddled in the corner, wearing just his shorts
and ice shackles around his wrists and ankles. She hurried over.

"
Ythan
!"
She held the bottle against his shackles, watching water drip from them as they
melted off. "We have to leave before she notices I killed her
guards."

"Get away from me!"

"What?"

"Why would I go anywhere
with
you
?"

She sat back, stunned. He glared
at her. "
Ythan
, that slut's brainwashed you. We
have to get out of here."

"The only one who's leaving
is you."

She shook her head. She didn't
fight this hard to walk away.

"We've been training to be
Warriors since we were six. Why do you want to throw it away to be some bitch's
sex slave?"

"I'm not a Warrior. I don't
know you. Piss off before she sees you."

"You're
Ythan
.
I'm your best friend,
Syra
. We're trainee Warriors at
the Castle of
Hykrew
. We graduate this year. I kick
your arse with every weapon except the bow." He stared blankly at her.
"If you don't come with me, I'll shred your Power Rangers photo." She
hauled him up. He pushed her away. "If I have to drag you out, I will. I
won't be gentle. You'll have to wear makeup at the graduation ceremony."
She reached for his arm.

He punched her. "Queen
Tyrannos
will be here soon. She'll kill you."

Footsteps marched down the
stairs. The ice dungeon offered nowhere to hide. The gate opened and four
guards entered.
Syra
drew her sword.

"Release us and your deaths
will be swift," she threatened.

A guard shouted. The dungeons
shook as more guards hurried down the steps.

"Always with the backup. You
too scared to fight me alone?"

The guards parted, revealing
Queen
Tyrannos
, wearing a white satin dress that
trailed on the floor in her wake and was tight enough to prove she wasn't
wearing underwear. Her crown was made from icicles. Her lipstick and eye shadow
were silver.

"Who is this infidel?"

"
Syra
of the Castle of
Hykrew
. I've come to claim
Ythan
. Release him into my custody and I'll spare your
life." She hoped she sounded fiercer than she felt.

"Seize her!" Four guards
grabbed her as she struggled. "Bring them to my chambers."

"See what you've done?"
Ythan
hissed, kicking her as he was dragged out.

"This is the last time I try
to rescue someone,"
Syra
muttered as the guards
carried her out of the dungeon.

Queen
Tyrannos
led the way up several flights of stairs to her chambers. It was carved from a
glacier with streaks of blue in the ice. A man was shackled to the bed, wearing
black shorts and a collar.
Ythan
was tossed onto the
bed while
Syra
was dragged to the wall and forced
onto a small raised platform where she had a good view of the bed. Shackles
were fastened around her neck, wrist and ankles.

"I think I'll keep
you." Queen
Tyrannos
stroked
Syra's
jaw.

"Touch me again and you'll
lose your fingers. Your Majesty."

"Do you know what happens to
traitors?"

"I'm guessing they're not
awarded medals for bravery."

"Do you know how it feels to
freeze to death? Unbearable, agonising cold, for what seems like an eternity
before your organs fail one by one?"

"Just chop my head off and
mount it on a plaque. It'd be an interesting ornament for your guests to
admire."

Queen
Tyrannos
smiled and touched
Syra's
arm. Ice crept up her skin,
sinking into her veins until her blood became rivers of ice. Queen
Tyrannos
unfastened her dress and let it tumble down her
naked body before joining
Ythan
and the prisoner on
the bed. A guard grabbed
Syra's
face and held her
eyes open, forcing her to watch
Ythan
enjoy the
pleasures of the man and Queen
Tyrannos
. Everything
Ythan
had said about Queen
Tyrannos
yet he abandoned his morals the second she undressed. Betrayal knifed her
heart. This would haunt her forever.

Queen
Tyrannos
touched her prisoner. Ice crawled over his skin, until he became a sculpture.
She clicked her fingers. He shattered, the shards cascading over the bed.

Queen
Tyrannos
dressed and sauntered over to
Syra
. "
Ythan
wants me. You risked your pathetic little life for
someone who would kill you at my command.
Ythan
,"
she beckoned.
Ythan
scrambled off the bed and hurried
over. "Kill her."

Ythan
looked at
Syra
.

"
Ythan
,
no! It's me,
Syra
. Remember how we plan to go
travelling after we graduate? Find a castle and build an army that would make
the other kingdoms tremble in fear?" The ice spread up her arm, creating a
numbing ache.

"She's trying to take you
away from me." Queen
Tyrannos
slipped a dagger
into his hand. "Kill her."

"Remember during the
wilderness training, you tripped over our camp fire and face planted in my
food?" She tried ignoring the cold creeping up her face. "We joined
so we could be Power Rangers."

Ythan
raised the dagger. A lone tear tumbled down
Syra's
face.

"All we've ever experienced,
all we've ever planned, all I've done for you and our friendship means
nothing
to you?"

The tear splashed into
Ythan's
eye. He blinked.

"Fine, kill me, but look me
in the eyes when you do it."

Ythan
gasped as fierce burning ripped through his heart. He dropped to his knees,
clutching his chest. The dagger fell from his grip. He cried out as a fireball
imploded inside him. His skin glowed red before fading. Flames danced in his
eyes.

He staggered to his feet. "
Syra
?" He looked around. "Where are we?"

"The Ice Palace. Queen
Tyrannos
kidnapped you to be her sex slave. You were just
about to kill me, you jerk."

He grabbed his head as memories
assaulted him. His eyes were stricken as he stared at
Syra
.
"I could never kill you! You'd haunt me 'til I never slept again."

Queen
Tyrannos
folded her arms. "Touching. Now knife the bitch."

"No!"

She lowered her dress. "Kill
her or you'll never have me again."

"Half the kingdom's checked
into your
STI
clinic."

"You included." She
smirked.

"You don't get a lollipop
for that,
Ythan
,"
Syra
said.

Ythan
punched one guard then snatched up the fallen dagger and stabbed another. He
grabbed
Syra's
sword and hacked the shackles.
Syra
ducked a guard's sword and kneed him in the balls.
Ythan
seized another guard and threw him over his back
towards the bed. He hit one of the ice posts and slithered to the floor.
Syra
snatched up her bag.

"I have a present for you. A
truce."
Syra
offered a cloth to Queen
Tyrannos
.

She took it and unwrapped a
mirror shard. Frowning, she gazed upon it. And screamed.

Guards chased them through the
passageways, their feet slipping as they dodged some and fought others.
Ythan
stabbed
Syra's
sword into
the floor and swung around it, his kick toppling the guards backwards down the
staircase. They skidded to a stop at the door. Blocks of ice barricaded them
inside.

"There's only one way
out," Queen
Tyrannos
spoke, striding down the
passageway. "The blocks must be rearranged to spell a word. Only then can
you leave."

Syra
grabbed her bow and arrow, opened the Dragon's Breath and dipped the arrow head
into the liquid. It instantly ignited. She lined up the shot.

"You'll never hit her at
that distance."
Ythan
wrestled the bow and arrow
off her.

"You won't kill me,"
Queen
Tyrannos
called.

Ythan
released the arrow. Its burning head pierced Queen
Tyrannos
'
heart. She screamed as fire ignited inside her, water dripping from her skin as
her body surrendered to the fire's devastating heat.

"Think she wanted to do her
megalomaniac spiel,"
Syra
said.

"This isn't an action film
and we don't have people coming to rescue us."

Water gushed towards them as the
Snow Queen's dying screams echoed through her Ice Palace. Her white dress
drifted on her watery grave.

"Knew she was a cold hearted
bitch."
Syra
smirked.

"I need my clothes."

Syra
tossed the dress at him. "It's your size."

He threw it back. "Wrong
colour. And if you touch my Power Rangers photo, I'll feed you to the
goblins."

Syra
poured the liquid over the ice. Black letters gradually appeared, floating
inside the blocks. They slid the heavy blocks around, arguing over the order.

"Got it!"
Ythan
directed
Syra
which blocks
to move.

The palace shook. Stalactites
crashed from the ceiling as they dived out the way, curling up to protect
themselves. Queen
Tyrannos
' taunting laugh haunted
them as the doorway sealed.

"It was a trap."
Ythan
stared at the blocks. "This wasn't an escape
route, it was a curse."

"Good going, genius."
Syra
flicked the Dragon's Breath over the door. Nothing
happened. Slowly, their veins turned silver. "There
has
to be another way out."

The guards knelt before them.
"Welcome, Snow King and Snow Queen."

"This
better
not mean we're married."
Syra
stared in horror at the black letters.

ETERNITY

Operation: Midnight

The door blew shut with a
BANG
! The power died. Blackness
exploded, drowning me, blinding me. My senses ignited like fireworks, creating colourful
displays in my brain. I stood, edging towards the fuse box.

And tripped over my tool box.

I cursed amid the deafening
clatter of spilled tools. The number of times I fall over, it should stop being
embarrassing. I reached the fuse box, grabbed the torch resting on it and
flicked the switches. Nothing.

Something moved in the darkness.

I turned, dust dancing
evocatively in the torch's curious beam.

I was alone.

I stepped away from the fuse box,
my torch skimming my tools. The beam fell on the large wrench and I swooped,
sweeping it up and raising it threateningly. I crept around the garage, my
biker boots echoing. I listened for intruders but either my ears were lying
about the noise or someone was staying unnaturally still. Unlike my previous
boyfriends, my ears never lied.

The lights hummed, flickering
like a snake's tongue before gaining full power. I whirled around, wrench
hoisted, ready to inflict so much damage on someone's skull even a 3D puzzle
enthusiast couldn't put it back together.

I was alone.

"Just because it's dark,
doesn't mean there are monsters."

I crouched by my bike. The chrome
glinted wickedly beneath the garage lights. I listened for any sound that might
betray the
boogeyman
. There was nothing. But I knew
something was there. I could feel it watching me. Taking a deep breath, I
turned my attention to the bike. Just the finishing touches and I'd have it
purring. I reached for a spanner.

"Ella?"

I whirled, hurling the spanner.
That
boogeyman
was going to die.

The man caught it then dropped
it, cradling his hand. "That's quite a throw."

"I was aiming for your
head."

"Oh. Glad you missed. I'm
out of
Ibruprofen
."

He reached into his PVC coat
pocket. I snatched up my gun from my thigh holster, ready to turn him into a
human doily. He raised his hands in surrender. He had short dark hair and
stubble. Not the
boogeyman's
usual appearance.
Wonderful. The first hot guy I see in ages and I clobber him with a spanner and
hold him at gun point. No wonder my mum said I'd die alone.

"I'm fetching my ID."

"I scored top on the
shooting range and in the field. If that's
not
your ID, I'll shoot off every finger. You can spend the rest of your life
wearing mittens."

"I've just got used to
wearing big boy gloves."

He retrieved a black wallet and
flipped it open. "
Finton
Granger. MI6. Your boss
recommended you for an assignment. You're one of MI5's top agents."

"Throw it here."

I caught it and checked it,
keeping the gun trained on him.

"Operation: Midnight
involves gathering
intel
on Prince Charming, the son
of a prominent political figure. We need you to infiltrate his home and plant
bugs. You must leave before midnight."

"Why? So I don't turn into a
pumpkin?"

"He's hosting a Masquerade
ball. Midnight's when the guests unmask. Your cover might be blown."

"Masquerade ball? Which
century is he living in?"

"You'll be attending as one
of his guests. Lady Ella Harrington."

"What's my legend?"

He handed me a file. "You're
a scientist working on a formula to create the ultimate weapon."

"I failed science and I can't
dance."

"This mission's in the best
hands then." I glared. "Agents Dunbar and Thorne will be there."

"Great. The Ugly Sisters.
They hate me."

"They're experienced and
unknown to the targets."

"Why aren't you briefing me
at HQ?"

"There's no time. We've only
just got the
intel
."

"Why are Six
interested?"

"We believe Prince
Charming's trafficking nuclear weapons abroad."

"When's the ball?"

"Tonight."

"I need more time to learn
my legend, read up on this science crap."

He glanced at my motorbike
leathers. I was pretty sure I had oil smeared over my face. I couldn't look
less like a renowned scientist.

"Your outfit's inside."

"Who are you? My Fairy
Godmother?"

"I couldn't pull off wings,
a bustle and a wand. Though I do have the legs for the dress. The ball starts
at 8pm. I hope you've got a good memory." He nodded at the file. "An
earpiece will be fitted inside your ear. It'll be undetectable by sight and
should elude their security if they sweep for bugs."

"If it doesn't?"

"Hope you can run
fast."

"Not if I'm wearing stripper
heels."

I holstered my gun, killed the
light and headed inside. So much for a fun evening.

I tossed my jacket onto the
banister, unzipped my boots and flung them under the stairs. I trooped upstairs
and headed for the bathroom. A glance in the mirror confirmed I looked more
suited for warfare than a ball. I turned on the shower, stripped off and
stepped in.

Ten minutes later, I was clean
and my hands looked like I'd been bitch slapping sandpaper. I wrapped a towel
around me and left the bathroom.

"Jesus!" I stumbled
backwards. "If you keep sneaking up on me you'll get yourself shot."

"You shouldn't have a gun if
you're nervy."

"Do you regularly sneak up
on women in the shower?" I narrowed my eyes. "Are you the peeping Tom
they're talking about on the news?"

He blew a raspberry. "I'm a
spy. If I wanted to
perv
on women in the shower,
they'd never know about it."

"If I find a spy cam in
there, I'll break your telescope."

I barged past him, shutting my bedroom
door. I stared at the pile of emerald satin and lace that had spread over my
black four poster bed like a contagious disease. Was that a dress or some weird
alien substance that breeds when it gets wet? I gingerly picked up a piece. Was
that a petticoat?

"Oh hell no!" I flung
open the door. "What is
that
?"

"The dictionary defines it
as a dress, Ella."
Finton
smiled, shoving his
hands into his jeans pockets.

"It looks like some
fabric-eating creature's vomited on my bed."

"It's designer."

"Which one? The chief
designer for the Troll Queen? It has
ruffles
.
I'm allergic to ruffles."

"I'd let you wear your own,
but I don't want people thinking we employ Elvira. It's a ball, not some erotic
underground club. I like your violet walls, by the way."

"Have you been in my
wardrobe?"

"I needed an outfit for
Halloween."

"I'm not wearing that."

"It's either that or nothing
but your mask."

"I'd rather that."

"So would I." He
winked. "Lady Ella Harrington would never dare attend a ball naked. She's
very fashion conscious."

"Fashion victim, more
like."

"Would you prefer something
in pink? With added frills? And a matching hair bow? No! A bonnet! You'd look
adorable in a bonnet."

I glowered and slammed the door.
I marched to my chest of drawers and pulled out fishnets stockings, making sure
they concealed the tattoo on my left thigh - a snake coiled around a dagger. I
slipped into lingerie then fetched the dress. It took several minutes to fight
my way through the skirt and emerge from the bodice, redder than a blood stain.
I spotted shoes by the door. Green stilettos with leg straps. My ankles twisted
just looking at them.

I pinned my black wavy hair up
with a silver ribcage clip. My fringe looked like a spider was sitting on my
head, but it would do. I applied charcoal
eyeshadow
and violet lipstick.

Finton
stared. "You look-"

"Like a spinach patch. If I
fall off these," I waved the shoes, "every rabbit in a ten mile
radius will eat me."

"Not if I get to you
first." He smiled coyly. I tried to ignore my racing heart.

I sat on the stairs, put the
shoes on then tried descending in a ladylike manner. My ankles wobbled and I
slid down on my arse, landing at the bottom in a sea of satin. I struggled up,
stood on the petticoat and landed with a thud.

Finton
laughed. "You should practise walking. It's something most people learn at
nine months."

"Why don't you put them on
and show me how it's done?"

"They don't match my outfit.
I save my stripper heels for my Friday night pole dancing."

Great. Hot
and
funny. And I was falling over more times than a drunken girl on
a Friday night. I walked into my front room, turned and sashayed back. My ankle
twisted and I landed on my knees.

"Screw this for a game of
soldiers." I un-strapped the shoes, chucked them aside and grabbed boots
from under the stairs. They were black, with buckles up the side and a chain
going from the top to the bottom.

"You're not wearing
those."

"You can't see them under
the monstrosity." I stood and dropped the skirt. It covered the boots.

"Your carriage awaits."

I followed him outside to a
silver Rolls Royce Phantom.

"Where are the white horses?
The round carriage? My footmen?"

"Budget cuts." He
opened the back door then closed it after me, jamming my hem. I opened it,
gathered the skirt then closed the door. As I was slapping the skirt down so I
could see out the window, he slid in beside me. He opened a file and handed me
a photo. "Prince Charming. He might look like a spoilt daddy's boy, but
he's a nasty piece of work. He's also very paranoid. This was a member of his
entourage he suspected was an undercover cop." He showed me another photo
of a bloodied mess that was still sort of human shaped then undid his jeans and
whipped them off.

"What, no foreplay?" I
tore my gaze away from him.

"I've got naughty board games
in the boot if you like." He pulled on black trousers.

"Was it an undercover
cop?"

"No. So don't get
caught."

I opened my file and read my
legend several times. Nothing like a mangled corpse to help it stick. When I
looked up,
Finton
was topless. A barbed wire tattoo
snaked across his shoulder blades and
pecs
then
wrapped around both biceps.

"Like what you see?" He
winked. I studied the photo. Mangled corpses were a great passion killer.
Finton
dressed in a shirt and suit jacket. "He'll want
to see a sample of your weapon."

"That sounds like a terrible
pick up line." He handed me a phial filled with turquoise liquid.
"Does this outfit come with a bag?"

"No."

I tucked the phial into my bra.
He stared. "It's the last place
anyone'll
look.
Put your tongue in, you're drooling. This dress is dry clean only."

"It's a chloroform mixture,
designed to imitate a nerve toxin. Mix it with water, you'll knock everyone out
in the room. If he wants to speak to your boss, this phone has only my number
in it." He handed me a small phone. That also went in the bra.

"Next time, Fairy Godmother,
magic me a
friggin
' bag. My cleavage isn't impressive
enough to smuggle contraband."

"Your cleavage is…" I
almost enjoyed his discomfort. "Adequate."

Dark trees flanked a long driveway,
their branches scraping the windows like skeletons trying to claw their way out
of their coffins. The Rolls stopped outside a Gothic mansion. Lights blazed
inside its stone body like demonic eyes. On the ground, the moon had cast eerie
silvery light that resembled slain ghosts.

Finton
opened my door then offered his arm. I tripped, took his arm and strutted to
the door.

"Walk slower, gracefully.
Lady Ella doesn't stride like a furious penguin."

"Penguins don't stride, they
waddle." I glared. "Bitch."

He laughed, handed me a black
masquerade mask and gave my name at the door. He escorted me inside to the
ballroom.

"I will bid you adieu, Lady
Ella." He kissed my hand and disappeared.

I stared at the throng of people
dancing, milling around and looking as pompous as a room of dandies. Their
masks concealed their expressions, turning them into faceless mannequins. The
room was decked out in dark wood and claret velvet. I looked for the camera,
convinced I was an extra in a period drama.

"I'll get you for this,
Fairy Godmother. I'll hollow out your insides like a pumpkin and use your
intestines to strum a lullaby."

"Are you
flirting
? Be still my beating
heart."

"I don't believe we've been
introduced." A man briefly lowered his mask. Prince Charming.

"Lady Ella Harrington."
I curtseyed, feeling like an idiot.

"May I have this
dance?"

Given the choice between ballroom
dancing in a toilet roll cover or sticking hot needles in my eye, I'd rather be
heating up the needles.

I followed him, smirking at the
ladies we passed. Those masks couldn't conceal the vitriol glances they were
shooting my way.

Prince Charming faced me and
bowed. He actually
bowed
. I bit my
lip to stop myself laughing. Classical music played. The only dancing I did was
air guitar and occasional head banging. Air drums if the song demanded it. I
trampled his feet several times. As he twirled me, I spied Dunbar near the
stairs, dressed as a waiter. Thorne loitered near the bar, just another guest.
They were glowering at me like psychopaths.

"I don't see why she gets to
take lead." Thorne deliberately caught my eye as he spoke to Dunbar.
"She should be on a desk job."