The Four Tales Read online

  The black sky above them was the same as it had been for the last ninety-nine years, or so, they had been told. It was the same sky Roz had seen for the last seventeen. Crops were very difficult to grow, but somehow, they managed to do so. The blackness had its own light, but they knew it was nothing like the real thing.

  “What if this is reality?” Everett asked as the doors closed behind them.

  “Black sky and sick crops?” Roz questioned and shoved her bag further up her shoulder.

  “Yeah,” Everett nodded. “What if the stories of our history are just that: stories?”

  “I can’t believe that,” Roz told him. “You can’t either, Ev. There has to be some truth in the stories. We have to find an answer before more of our community dies.”

  “Why is it I feel as if this is going to be a losing battle?”

  Roz reached over and took his hand. “Ev, we’re going to find out what’s happened, beast or not. If nothing else, the castle might have answers. We need those answers.”

  “I hope so, Roz. I don’t think I can watch my parents like this anymore.”

  “I understand,” Roz said, and she squeezed his hand.

  “Are you coming over to visit with Nina tonight?” he asked.

  “No, I better help out at home and keep an eye on Leuthar. I don’t want dad to have to do it alone.”

  “Is he getting worse?”

  “No,” Roz denied and shook her head. “We’re keeping an eye on it though.”

  “Good,” Everett pulled his hand from hers and took a step back. “You know what you have to do, though, right?”

  “Yes. We know. That’s why this has to work.”

  “I hope so.” Everett sighed. “See ya later, Roz.” He turned to the right, and she turned left onto the gravel street.

  “Later, Ev.”

  One foot in front of the other, the black-gold light guiding her, Roz made her way home. The roads were black pebbles now. After so many years, wars, and the shifting of the earth, the asphalt remained broken. Chunks still clung together here and there, but it was just gravel and dust beneath their feet.

  “Hey!” a voice called out behind her.

  Roz turned to find Nina running after her, feet crunching, and her bag bouncing in her left hand.

  “Hey,” Roz returned as Nina slid to her side. “Are you finished?”

  “Yeah, I was almost done when I spotted you earlier, but our instructor wanted to share another way of getting out of a hold. So, how’s Leuthar?”

  Roz shrugged, and Nina hit her in the arm.

  “Ow,” Roz joked and elbowed her friend back.

  “Spill,” Nina commanded.

  “You know what’s happening. We’re trying to keep an eye on him and downplay the instances, but I think the sickness is overtaking him.”

  “It’s spreading, isn’t it?” Nina whispered.

  Roz nodded and bit her lip. “I can’t imagine a world other than this one, Nina. I told your brother that we couldn’t believe this is it, but I’m really afraid it won’t ever change, and we’re going to come home and find our hopes shattered.”

  “Nine decades is a long time to live this way,” Nina started, “but I believe what your grandfather told us. There has to be a way to get back to the world we once knew. I want to see the technology and flying vehicles.”

  “Nina, those are just stories.”

  “The beast could just be a story too. I don’t want to believe it is though. Don’t you wonder what it would be like to step onto an elevator and get to the next destination in a blink of an eye? Don’t you wonder what technology actually looks like?”

  “Dreaming isn’t going to help us here, Nina. Ev’s right. This could all be a lie.”

  “You don’t believe your grandfather then?”

  “Nina, even if it’s true, it’s over nine decades ago. There is no orange sun. The sky is a black blob of weird golden light. Food is scarce, and people we love are getting sick. How can we believe in stories when reality is killing us?”

  They stopped in the middle of the street and were the only two walking the road. No one else was around to hear Roz’s pent-up fear and frustration.

  “It’s not our fault the world shifted and smashed continents into one another. We aren’t to blame for the death and wars. I want to believe the tales about a world where two nations found the strength to come together after WWIV and create a truce. If it’s true, then the beast is real, and that gives me hope.” Nina put her hand on Roz’s arm.

  “I just want to be realistic about all of this. If we’re wrong…” she couldn’t speak it.

  Talking to Ev had made her wonder if this was their truth.

  “You’re not the only one terrified of it being a lie. Roz, I have to hold onto this hope. You know why.” Nina’s eyes filled with tears.

  Roz put her hand over her friends. “I know. I want to believe too. I’m trying.”

  “If we break the curse, we could contact the Second Kingdom. We could get help, and maybe, the sky will be blue and white and orange again. Please, believe it.”

  “Nina,” Roz started, “I will try. We have a plan, and I hope Captain Ralph is right about the likelihood of it working.”

  “He is,” Nina told her with complete confidence. “We’re going to beat the beast, Roz. We’re going to end this curse. I feel it in my bones.”

  “I wish I was more like you, Nina.” Roz smiled and shook her head. “Your faith is contagious. Fine, I’ll be positive until further notice. I better get home. Do you want to come for supper?”

  Nina shook her head. “I need to check in on mom and dad. Ev already headed home, and I shouldn’t leave him alone to deal with everything.”

  “I understand,” Roz replied.

  “Just remember, it isn’t really Leuthar saying those things. It’s the sickness. You’ll get him back.”

  Roz reached out and hugged her friend close. Nina’s arms squeezed her tight. Parting, Roz punched her friend’s shoulder.

  “Same to you. Your parents are going to make it.”

  “Thanks, Roz. See you tomorrow?” Nina asked and brushed her fingers across her eyes.

  Ignoring her friend’s tears, Roz looked at the ground and dug her shoe into the ground. The top of the toes was coated with dust. She shook it off and nodded.

  “Of course,” she said, “we have to practice. The week will fly by.”

  “Good. Later,” Nina said, turned with a wave, and walked away.

  Roz watched her friend walk away. She switched her bag to her left shoulder and waited until Nina had disappeared from view.

  Shaking her head, she stood there staring at the last place she’d seen Nina. Wishing for Nina’s faith, Roz sighed.

  “I can only hope for the future when the beast is dead,” she whispered to the ground, kicking at the dirt. “If there is a beast.”

  Roz turned around and looked at the castle. It sat upon a hill in the distance. From this far away she couldn't see any details or evidence of the beast lurking inside.

  Although she wanted to believe it was only a myth, the sensation of not being alone was powerful. Her skin prickled, and she knew he was there, somewhere, watching them. Her head cocked to the right as if listening for him.

  “We will come and destroy you,” she whispered, as if he stood in front of her, “We will win this kingdom back from you, and then the sun will shine through, and our people will live.”

  Watching the castle, Roz noticed the swirl of black clouds congregate more fully above it. A crack of lightning lit the sky and thunder crashed over the crumbling structure.

  “I guess someone out there agrees with me,” she whispered, and took a step back, twirled around, and bobbed along home.

  * * *

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  Dedication

  This is for my family. Especially Aunt Jane and Uncle Bruce, who always believed in me and supported me no matter what. I love you both very much.

  Acknowledgments

  For Dorian Tsukioka, fellow fabulous writer, my sounding board, and my greatest motivator. Thank you for believing in me!

  * * *

  For Cyndi Vreeland Harrington, thank you for always supporting me and helping to create such beautiful covers! Your endless assistance is valued beyond words.

  * * *

  For April Erwin (fellow amazing writer!), Breanna Lee, Brenda Allen, David Bates, Sarah Kirn, Kathy Mees, Liz Yanders, and Janie Whitlock (fellow amazing writer!) for their reading, edits, and suggestions!

  * * *

  You all mean a great deal to me! Thank you!!

  Legend: A Cinderella Retelling

  By Rebecca Reddell

  1

  Farview Country

  “Caaaasssiiidyyy!”

  The screech reminded her of a dying cat. Not that Cassie Alasdair had ever witnessed such an occurrence, but she felt certain that this sound would be an exact replica.

  Sighing deeply, Cassie set down her spade on the soft dirt and leaned back on her heels. The sun was high upon her and sweat trickled down her back and forehead. Pulling off her gloves, she wiped a hand across her forehead.

  “Caaaassiidyyy!” The full-name screech came again.

  Cassie stood up and stretched. Careful not to trip over her long, gardening gown, she picked up her spade.

  “Yes, mama?” She walked up the porch steps.

  “Why can you never seem to hear me, girl?” Miriam murmured with a shake of her head, peering through the screen with pursed lips and a haughty tilt to her head. “I need you to make supper while I'm gone. I have a meeting with Mrs. Kemyss before darkness falls. Your father will be coming in from the fields and wanting to eat. He will leave for the signing camp in the morning. We must prepare for his departure.”

  Cassie nodded. Entering the house behind her stepmother, she paused to allow her eyes to adjust to the dimness. They were only allotted a certain amount of electricity within a 24-hour period, and Cassie’s family didn’t dare turn it on until it was pitch-black outside. Sometimes they made due with candles and flashlights.

  “Come along!” The call came ahead of her.

  Cassie passed through the sparse entryway decorated only with a mirror over a rough-built bench where shoes gathered beneath. Hooks for hanging coats and shawls hung to the right of the front door. The walls inside the house were all a dingy white with no pictures hanging upon them.

  As Cassie followed her stepmother through the sitting area before entering the kitchen, she noted that a basket of clean wash stood unfolded on the table in the middle of the room. The chairs spread across the living space were old, faded, and had sunk low. Cassie knew she would have to fold the laundry and plump the cushions before the evening ended.

  “Do you have a spade?” Aven, her stepbrother, asked Petunia, her stepsister.

  “Cassie will be fixing the evening meal,” Miriam announced, as if this was an anomaly instead of a daily event.

  Sniffing, Petunia shrugged her shoulders and laid down a card. “I, for one, hope supper isn't burnt like last night's eggs. It was disgraceful trying to swallow them with our toast and jam as if nothing was wrong. I really think she should have remade them, Mother.”

  “Petunia, not now,” Miriam spoke with a sigh.

  Petunia only sniffed again and laid down another card before lifting narrowed eyes in Cassie’s direction. For a moment, she held her stepsister’s gaze. Lifting another card from the pile, she resumed her playing.

  Cassie turned to the stove without a response. Heat filled her cheeks, and the ever-present knot in her stomach hardened. Straightening her shoulders, she tried not to think about the burnt eggs. Her mother would have been appalled had she seen them.

  Swallowing, she picked up a towel and dried some of the dishes in the basket. Peeking into the cupboards, Cassie realized they were getting low on essentials again. She couldn’t find the homemade bread she’d baked only two days ago. There wasn’t any jam either. The pantry only housed the current basket of apples she’d picked early that morning as well as some pancake mix and potatoes.

  “I have enough for pancakes and potatoes, mama.” Cassie took the ingredients from the pantry with her and set them on the counter.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the plate in the middle of the table. It was covered in crumbs, and she had an idea where the bread and jam had gone. Taking a deep breath, twice, she opened the ice box.

  They weren’t allowed refrigerators or freezers any longer. Both took too much electricity, and their king had banished the use after the last world war. Peace had reigned in their country by curbing their selfish and over-indulgent habits, according to the king.

  “Excellent,” came the distracted reply, “I shall return soon.”

  “If you must,” Petunia replied with a bored tone and flicked another card upon the table.

  “No, no, no!” Aven cried, and his own cards slammed to the table to punctuate his disgust.

  There was a quart of milk inside from their own cow. A few eggs were in a bowl. She could burn a few eggs, but the twins had already eaten the bread and jam, and she didn’t want to think of what other mischief they’d attempt.

  “Cassie, make sure supper is ready in time. Goodbye, darlings.” Miriam went out the back door and headed down the path without further ado.

  Cassie looked out the window over the sink to see her stepmother practically sprinting to the back gate. Brows drooping, she wondered why she was in such a hurry. With a shrug, Cassie turned only to give an, “Eeek!”

  “I do so hope nothing will be burned this evening, Cassidy.” Petunia's bright blue eyes were slits as she glared and stood two feet from Cassie’s face. Her red lips puckered in a distasteful way, as if she were smelling a fish from the market.

  “Of course not, Petunia. I will be most careful this time.” Cassie attempted a smile. She hated when they aligned against her.

  “I am certain all will be in order.” Petunia smirked and glanced at Aven.

  Cassie looked between both and swallowed. If she was brave, she’d push them away or tell them to cook their own supper. If there weren’t two of them, she might vocalize her anger, but experience had taught her to keep her revenge subtle and her mouth shut.

  “Now, fetch what's left of the blackberry jam from the cellar. I can't eat biscuits without jam,” Petunia commanded.

  Biting her tongue, Cassie nodded and turned back to the counter. She rolled up her sleeves and washed her hands in the sink of water. They were only given a certain amount of water to wash and cook with each day, and it was easier to keep a sink full of washing water.

  “Come on, Aven. I want to show you the new outfit I’m wearing for the party. We’ll leave Cassie to concentrate on getting something accomplished.”

  “Do I have to, Petunia? I don’t want to go to the party and watching you model a new outfit isn’t up there on my favorite pastimes.” Aven stopped to pick up the cards on the table. “Besides, I was close to winning this hand.”

  “Right, Aven. I’m sure your previous outburst meant a win was on the horizon. Leave the cards. Cassie can pick them up. Come on, I want your male opinion on how this ensemble looks.”

  Sighing, Aven threw the cards back onto the table. “Fine!”

  Petunia and Aven disappeared the next instant, talking as they walked away, and Cassie felt her shoulders sink down. She didn’t want to go to the built-in cellar until they’d left. Even though the entrance was outside, she didn’t trust either of them not to sneak out and attempt something nefarious. The last time she went to pick up a few provisions, where her father insisted they store anything which didn’t fit in the pantry, they had locked her inside.

  Cassie took a few
steps to the kitchen’s entryway to check on the status of her siblings. They weren’t anywhere in sight, so she exited the back door, and made her way down the steps. She went to the right and along the house to the cellar doors. Looking around, she saw no one.

  Unlocking and opening the doors, Cassie peeked within. No one was in sight. There didn’t seem to be any creatures within either. With her step-siblings, she didn’t take any chances. Plus, Petunia had seemed rather eager for her to go get more jam.

  “Let’s do this already, Cassie,” she told herself. Picking up the flashlight from the top step, she descended inside the dank cellar.

  “Why did my ancestors have to build this?” she muttered to herself. “The least they could have done was but it inside the house. Some houses have basements, but no, our house has to have an outside cellar. Great idea, family.”

  At the bottom, she took a glance back at the top to ascertain if Petunia or Aven would reveal themselves. Neither face peeped over the edge of the doors at her. Shining her light around, she hurried to the wall across from the steps.

  Each wall contained the remainder of their canned jams, preserves, fruits, and vegetables from the previous spring. As soon as the harvest came in, she’d have the task of filling it once more. She doubted her ancestors had done that even a decade ago. They had grocery stores then. Now, families relied on their own gardening, bartering, trading, and the king’s provisions.

  On the last shelf, she spotted her father's favorite: blackberry jam made especially for them in return for fresh eggs. She grabbed the last jar and hurried back to the stairs. She would have to finish quite a few things before her stepmother returned, especially if she didn’t want to get into trouble.

  Cassie turned off the flashlight and set it on the top step. Climbing out, she held the jam wrapped in her left hand and started to push one cellar door closed before turning to the other. A second later, she saw a dark flash to her right and began falling through the air.