Desire and Deceit

“Once again, my pet.” Philip’s beckoning hand tugged me forward. 

I rose from the bench before our simple wooden cottage and joined him—willing my eyes away from the space where the concentric rings of limestone blocks met open air. How often had I huddled for comfort against the earthen wall next to my straw pallet after waking from dreams of falling? I chose to focus on Philip in his sinewy glory. 

He smiled and brushed the back of his hand against my cheek. “Are you ready?”

Though my belly quivered at the prospect of another passage through the bewildering chaos of the Betwixt, I replied, “As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

“Perhaps this time, you will find what we seek. You mustn’t forget. Focus on my crown. Focus on all that will be ours if you find it. Then focus on me to get back.” I nodded. “ Yes, of course, you can remember. Focus.” Philip tapped a finger against my chin. Black flecks swam in his amber irises. Each time his eyes caught mine, it felt new and fascinating, as if I’d never seen them before. 

He touched his broad lips to mine, and my knees buckled as his spell took hold. One strong hand drew me closer, supporting the small of my back. All too soon, the ecstasy and my thoughts evaporated— replaced by blinding white. 

My watering eyes struggled to assemble anything meaningful from the rushing whiteness. Invasive fingers of wind snaked under my dress, whistled into my ears, and itched at the inside of my head. A familiar flash of blue-green from the stone on my ring snapped my spinning thoughts into place. 

Vertigo and deja vu faded along with the wind. The turbid whiteness swirled to form skittering patterns as disjointed as my thoughts. The designs of The Betwixt coalesced to form filaments. Which cable to choose today? Ghost-like memories of past travels drifted through my consciousness.

I snatched the tail of one white strand and held it dangling and squirming. Long claws of loneliness and longing scrabbled for purchase. One brilliant bead of blood bloomed against the underside of my wrist, joining dozens of half-healed scratches and white scars. I dropped the tail with a gasp and hoped the next strand would foretell more favorable results.

I pressed my hands up the slope of my forehead and pulled at the dense tangles, willing them to untangle jumbled memories and thoughts, but nothing came other than Philip’s voice, Focus on the crown. Focus on what matters.

I took a deep breath and grabbed another twisting tail from the mist. This one had the doughy weight of bread left to rise too long, one yeasty pocket burst and released the heady perfume of hope. I tugged. 

A hypnotic chanting called me forward. The sharp smell of pine and smoke blended into the scent. Twelve women, all with auburn hair like mine, circled a massive bonfire. Vast trees towered above.

A figure formed in the fire and locked its spectral gaze upon me. I opened my mouth to scream, but a woman’s arm wrapped around my chest, and her hand clapped over my mouth. Her voice came low and urgent in my ear, “Please. Do not call him. We have been seeking you. We want to help.”

She let her hand fall to lightly clasp my own as she circled to face me. She turned my hand, palm up, and lightly traced the lines with one finger. She shook her head and released me.

Sizzles drew my eyes to the fire. A cascade of flames revealed a woman where the fiery figure had been. One woman stepped forward, holding out a silky green gown. 

As the fire woman slid into the gown, I noticed scars upon her arms like my own. She crooked a finger to me and walked from the clearing. The other women stood still and calm in their broken circle, all eyes waiting for my tentative steps.

A bed of moss cushioned the sound of a twig snapping below my sandal. The trees creaked as they leaned back from the glen as if to guide my feet. The woman in green gracefully lowered herself to sit beside a small pool, her hair brilliant against the woods’ dark hues.

I leaned forward to examine the pool. A thin face rushed up from the depths, her eyes locked with mine. My hand flew to my mouth—then froze, the prickly fear replaced by hot embarrassment upon recognizing my reflection. 

It was the first time that I’d seen myself since… since when? The image was a startling departure from my mental image. The reflection resembled my mother. The lips were even thinner, doing no favors to distract from my long nose. The eyes rested in a nest of wrinkles. My once Rubenesque form now resembled an empty purse. 

A reflection of the woman who’d earlier halted my scream shimmered into view beside me.

“Come now. Sit.” She patted the mossy bank, and I sank beside her.

“Do you remember where you met him?”

“Who?”

“Philip. Who else do you see these days?”

“Well, I—” I halted and furrowed my brow, looking to the ground for insight. I poked at memories, though a heavy sensation in the center of my chest warned against it. Distant, vibrantly colored memories swam below the surface, while more recent memories floated in a colorless mist above. My handsome Philip overshadowed all else.

The woman in green spoke. “He has held you in thrall for years, stealing your youth, muddying your thoughts with his kisses, making you believe his dreams are your own. He sent you here to find a crown. He told you it was his own and that you would rule his kingdom together.”

I eyed her suspiciously. 

“Beware the words and the kiss of a frog.”

“Frog? What do you mean? Philip is my prince, my love.”

“You see what he wants you to, and since it’s what you want to believe, the charm works. You have been molded into this role since you were but a girl. You were taught his kiss would grant you power, but his poisonous kiss makes you forget that the power was yours all along.” 

Her eyes strayed back to the pool. “Look again, look beyond the reflection this time. I believe you will find what you think you seek.”

A glimmer of gold and red glistened below the surface. I plunged my arm in the cool water, pulling the filigreed crown free from years of muck. I shoved it in my sack and yelled, “Now, Philip!” 

Swirling whiteness swallowed me. Falling in reverse.

I blinked back the whiteness. Curious that the passage was always less jarring on the way back. 

And then I was home. A dirt clod crumbled beneath my weight with a puff; a pebble skittered and tumbled from the precipice before me. I stumbled back to avoid following and landed painfully. 

“Easy, easy. I’m here.”

My head whipped toward the voice. A figure resembling a frog more than a man opened a glossy, wide slit of a mouth. Then his features quivered into the near demigod form I was accustomed to. The warring images superimposed upon each other. “What did you see, my treasure?” The creature raised one bristly/perfectly groomed eyebrow and the corner of his lumpy/sensuous lips. 

“Ph-Philip?” I rubbed my eyes. “Is that you?” 

He shambled/glided forward in a wobble/swagger. My vision flickered then settled into a man with long fingers, strong brows, broad shoulders, and a demeanor that conveyed elegance and authority though his clothing was as tattered and stained as my own. “Of course it’s me. Whatever do you mean, dear?”

“I just—you just—Nevermind.” I didn’t know what I trusted less, the strange women in the woods, my own eyes, or a man who might be a frog.

“What did you find this time? Any clues?” I shivered in revulsion and attraction as his damp finger traced my jaw and raised goosebumps on my neck. 

“One more dead end.” I held out my wrist to show the puncture wound. 

“Oh, my precious. Here, let me kiss it better.” 

I pulled away, resisting the kiss. What if the woman was right about his power? I needed time to think. “I’ll go clean it so it doesn’t fester.” 

I walked with my head down; my eyes fixed on the hewn stone below my bare feet. I pulled the leather curtain aside that served as our door. Our home was little more than a lean-to nestled against a towering cliff, yet we’d called this home… For how long? I examined the spiderwebs in the corners, but the spiders held no answers. The dwindling vegetable stores told me that Philip would leave to gather more supplies within the week. 

After washing my wrist in the chipped basin on the table, I opened the bag and peered at the trio of dirty rubies framed by delicate pearls. I held the item that I had been seeking for as long as I could remember. This crown was supposed to be the key to our destiny, but now it all felt wrong. This did not look like the crown of a king. The feminine filigree did little to banish my doubts and questions. 

I returned to find Philip upon the wooden bench that sat before our fire ring and faced the boundary of my world. I sat beside him and examined his profile as he sang a song beneath his breath. I wondered why he never needed to shave. “Tell me the story again of how we met.”

“Once upon a time, there was an auburn-haired girl, more beautiful than—”

“Where?”

“I had gone for a stroll in the woods. The trees towered above a mossy floor. You were lost but still beautiful through your tears.”

“Why can’t I remember?”

“It was long ago. The Betwixt muddies thoughts, but everything will make sense once we find the crown.”

“We’re nearly out of food. I want to go with you to resupply.”

Philip shook his head. His lips formed a sad smile as he grasped my hand. “You know you’re not strong enough to make the climb, nor could you defend yourself from the perils along the way.”

“If I’m strong enough to face The Betwixt, shouldn’t I be strong enough to face the threats below?”

“You must conserve your strength, my darling. Your task is far too important to risk on the menial task of food gathering. We’re too close to throw it all away now. This will all be worth it soon. The crown will prove that I am the rightful king, and you will be my queen.”

“Why do you never travel to The Betwixt?”

“Why all the questions?” As he gazed at me, his irises took on a glint of something sinister and shifting—like a snake through water. “You saw something today. What aren’t you telling me?”

“I could ask the same of you, Philip. What did the crown look like?”

He wrapped his long fingers around my wrist. “I will ask you again, what are you not telling me?”

“And I will ask you again; what did the crown look like?”

His grip pushed the boundary of pain. “Did you find it?” He licked his lips and leaned in for a kiss. 

I toppled off the back of the bench to avoid his kiss. His grip slipped with the unexpected movement. I rose and took three swift steps forward and turned, placing myself between him and the edge. 

“My princess! Be careful!” Philip sprang to his feet just a little too easily, catching more air than was warranted.

I took another step back. I reached into the bag and placed the crown on my head.

“I will be your fool no more, Philip.” 

I leaned into the vast emptiness, trusting that he would catch me to capture the crown. He leaped and grasped my shoulders, my own arms wrapped around him tightly, my momentum carrying us tumbling over the ledge. 

As we fell, a blur of elegant arched windows and elaborate carvings revealed themselves. Fear and confusion were eclipsed by anger as I realized our hovel had been perched atop a soaring castle tower.

A lifetime of lies crumbled, yet I still doubted my own power. I pressed my lips against his for one last kiss—insurance for my travel. I focused on the forest glen. 

My world went white, and I prayed his went black.