The Seven Drawers Read online

  “I could have killed you last night,” he continued, “but that would have been no fun. I wanted the thrill of the hunt. I wanted to see you squirm, hear you scream.”

  I bit back a second scream, refusing to give him the thrill of it. “Rinold, this isn’t you,” I insisted. “What did my stepmother do to you? What does she want? What did she promise? Does your loyalty to me and my father mean nothing to you?”

  “Loyalty to a traitor and a ghost?” asked Rinold. “Ah, princess, are you truly so naïve? So deluded as to the truth of power?”

  Deluded to the truth about love, I could be, but my father had taught me well about the corrupting nature of power. And I knew that it had certainly corrupted Rinold.

  “What does she want?” I repeated.

  He gave a low, cruel chuckle that rattled me straight to my bones, and drew the knife down so that it rested against my chest.

  “Why, your death, of course, princess,” he answered. “She wants me to cut your pretty little heart out, and put it in a pretty little box and bring it to her.”

  My eyes widened as I realized what my stepmother’s plan was.

  When you are dead, they will welcome me back.

  She had lost her power over Bianca. Gullible little Candice? Not so much. Perfect victim for slaughter. If you died in one realm, did you die in all of them?

  My memories answered in the affirmative. My father’s death had happened at the same time and all three of my memories – Gwen’s, Bianca’s, and Candice’s – though each for a different reason. My mother’s death, though years before I could remember, was similarly reflected.

  And that wasn’t even the worst part of it.

  “Box?” I repeated. “Do you mean the Amore Box?”

  If he did, if I understood my stepmother’s plans correctly, if she wanted him to put my heart in the Amore Box…

  That would corrupt the box’s powers forever.

  And, yet, she might have just played into my hand.

  “Did … do you have it with you?” I asked when he didn’t answer my first question.

  “Of course,” he growled. “She hardly expects me to carry it back to her in my bare hands.”

  Perfect. And Gwen had its counterpart.

  I gave an involuntary whimper as the knife traced against my collarbone.

  “If … if you must kill me, do it quickly,” I breathed, playing into every ounce of Candice’s timidity. “And … and, please, I’m an innocent maiden. Don’t … don’t defile me.”

  “Defile you?” he drew back, withdrawing the knifepoint from my skin. “What put that thought into your pretty little head?”

  “I … I … just … just don’t kiss me!” I squeaked. Jeremy had always been susceptible to reverse psychology – I prayed that the same would prove true for this alternate version of him.

  Rinold’s eyes widened, and he gave a low chuckle. “Oh, princess, princess, you are so naïve. And, still…” Sheathing the knife, he cupped his hand against my cheek. I flinched away, even though my instinct wanted to curl into him, lay my head on his shoulder, and let loose pent-up tears. “You are a pretty thing. I can’t deny that such thoughts have passed through my head from time to time.”

  And, with that, his lips crushed against mine. I fought until the moment they did, and then I returned it, pouring into it every ounce of pent-up frustration that I had. I dug into his hair with one hand, pulling him closer to me. I could tell that, as Rinold, this was the first time that he’d kissed Candice – but I’d kissed Jeremy plenty of times, and knew exactly how he liked it. Exactly how to take control and render him senseless.

  My other hand sought the knife he had stashed in his belt. Withdrawing it with one quick motion, I threw it away with every ounce of strength that I could spare.

  Rinold immediately broke out of the kiss, pulling back to stare at me with wide eyes, opening and shutting his mouth. He was speechless.

  I released a long sigh of relief, laying my head against his chest. I had him back.

  Awkward arms folded around me, and tears of relief spilled from my eyes.

  “Princess, where are we?” he asked. “You’re trembling. Are you all right?”

  “I am now,” I whispered. “What do you remember?”

  “I … the queen invited me to her chambers,” he answered, rubbing my shoulder. “She wanted me to do something for her. I’m not sure what, but I knew it was something that would hurt you, so I refused, despite the honors and riches that she promised me. But then she handed me a knife and suddenly I’m standing here, with you and we’re…” He trails off, clearly embarrassed, but his hold of me doesn’t loosen.

  “It was a magic knife,” I explained. “Under my stepmother’s control, you chased me about this forest all night, trying to kill me. I had to kiss you to break the spell, but we’re good now.”

  “You … kissed me.”

  “Yes,” I affirmed, nuzzling deeper into his chest. “I had to. Was it a good kiss?”

  “Was it…” He stiffened, and the hand rubbing my shoulder fell away. “Princess, we … I’m…”

  “You’re the chief of my father’s huntsmen, and my personal bodyguard,” I finished. “The man whom my father entrusted with my safety and well-being.”

  “Yes, but … propriety!”

  “I think, when I’m queen, I can define propriety however I like,” I finally lifted my head from his chest, and stepped back to meet his eye, though I also took hold of his hand. “And I am going to be queen. I need you to stand by my side and help me take back what is mine.”

  His gaze rested on our hands for the briefest moment, then jerked up to meet my eye. His expression hardened into fierce determination and he gave a sharp nod. “Of course, my princess. I’m your servant. Just tell me what you need of me and where I need to hunt.”

  “First, I need the Amore Box.”

  “The … you need me to return to the castle and retrieve it from the queen?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No, she gave it to you. Wanted you to … I’d rather not say what her plans were, but you told me that you have it. She intended to corrupt its power, but I can turn that around on her and use it for our victory instead.”

  He quickly searched through the pack he carried and produced a small, wooden box with a heart carved into the lid. I smiled as I took it and opened the lid.

  3

  The Flute

  I returned to Gwen to find myself parked at a stoplight. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel as longing for Jeremy washed over me.

  For those few perfect moments as Candice, I’d had him back. But here, as Gwen … I hadn’t heard from him since my father’s death. He wouldn’t answer my calls, and he certainly never called me. Bianca hadn’t had a version of him in her realm, so I couldn’t help but wonder…

  Was Jeremy supposed to be in my life? Our reunion there had been so perfect, I couldn’t imagine otherwise, but he wasn’t here.

  “Gwen, it’s green – move!”

  A poke from Rosa jolted me from my thoughts, and Gwen’s memories came rushing back. We were on our way to Editha’s lawyer. Rosa had convinced me that talking to Williams was unnecessary.

  “Gwen!”

  A car honk echoed her cry, and I stepped on the gas, powering myself through the intersection, and straight into the gas station on the opposite side.

  “Gwen…”

  “I … just realized that my car is low,” I lied. “Why don’t you run in, get yourself a drink, and I’ll fill up.”

  Yes, I was trying to ditch her. She’d made it very clear that she didn’t want me to talk to Williams – though I couldn’t understand why – and I dared not take the breakfast café without getting his advice first.

  “I’m … not thirsty.” Rosa narrowed her eyes at me.

  “I am,” I declared. “And, look – any size slushies for a dollar. I need some sugar before I make such a major life decision.”

  Rosa’s eyebrow arched higher.r />
  “Please?”

  She loosed a heavy sigh, shaking her head. “Fine. But I’m not getting you anything that will dye your mouth a weird color. You need to look professional for the lawyer.”

  The moment she was out of the car, I sped away. I could see her shouting after me in my rearview window, but I didn’t care. We were only a couple blocks away from my apartment, and being my best friend didn’t mean that she’d give better advice than my family lawyer. Step next in overcoming my grief was making my own decisions.

  It was only in that moment that I realized how much I’d been letting her make them for me these last several weeks.

  And that was not acceptable.

  My thoughts returned to Jeremy as I made my way across town. I couldn’t help it. The wounds I thought were healing had been ripped open, and my heart ached at his loss. I could still hear his voice, feel his arms…

  Why had he dumped me? And without a word, too? Why had he just cut himself from my life with no explanation?

  Of course, I’d been asking these questions for weeks now, and the ten-minute drive across town was not enough to provide any form of new enlightenment.

  But, hopefully, Williams would have some good advice for the Apple Pancakes quandary. He didn’t know about all of the realms, didn’t know that I had to fight my war on multiple fronts at once.

  Still, I had made up my mind to talk to him, and I did want his advice when it came to signing any contracts. Had to make sure that I wasn’t signing away my soul or anything.

  Shouldering my purse – which contained both the mirror and the box, I realized – I headed inside the building where I had spent a lot of my childhood, staring at the tomes of law, pestering both Williams and my Father with questions.

  It felt like coming home.

  Dianna, Williams’ secretary, sat behind the desk, working on paperwork, but she sprang to her feet as I entered.

  “Gwen!” she cried, stepping around the desk to envelop me in a hug, which I melted into. “Oh, Gwen, how have you been, dear? John has been so worried about you.”

  She was pretty much the only person who called Williams by his first name.

  “I’ve been…” I couldn’t hope to put my last two months into words. “Is Williams busy? I need to talk to him. I need some legal advice on a business decision.”

  “John’s with a client right now, but he should be done soon,” she answered. “And you know he’ll make time for you.” She regarded me long and hard for several minutes and concluded with a shake of her head. “Are you sure that you’re fine? He’s been trying to contact you for weeks now. It’s been like you fell off the face of the planet.”

  “I’ve felt like I fell off the face of the planet,” I admitted, sinking into one of the lobby chairs. “I’ve been better, Dianna, I don’t hesitate to admit.”

  “I can only imagine,” she said, sitting down in the chair next to me. “You lost your father and your inheritance in one blow. Why didn’t you come to us? You know John and I both see you as family. We would have taken care of you.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. My world had fallen apart and I didn’t want to rely on anyone’s charity. Rosa let me crash on her couch and helped me get on my feet – but now I’ve been offered a business proposition, and it’s not one that I want to agree to on a whim. I suspect there are strings attached to it.”

  Dianna shook her head again. “You sound just like your father somedays, you know that? You might be the image of your mother, but you’re his daughter through and through. Business proposition indeed! What are you getting into, Gwen?”

  I shook my head. “It involves Editha, but I don’t want to say more than that until I’ve talked to Williams.”

  She nodded and stood, retreating back to her desk. “Understood. I’ll let him know that you’re here. Make yourself at home while you wait.”

  I nodded distantly, picked up the book nearest me, and let myself melt into the puzzle that is the legal language. For the record, it was as much a mystery to me then as it had ever been, but it was a distraction.

  Finally, the office door opened, and a lady exited, Williams trailing after her as they talked. I didn’t know the lady, though I’d seen her here before.

  I slowly closed the book, but said nothing, waiting for him to notice me – which didn’t take long. A glance out of the corner of his eye, and I had his full attention.

  “Gwen!” he cried, taking a step towards me, and then he glanced back at Dianna. “Where’d you find her? How?”

  “She just walked in the door, fifteen minutes ago,” Dianna answered. “She wants to talk about business. You may finish with Ms. Long, though. She wouldn’t dream of stealing you away from her.”

  Dianna was quite correct. I by no means fancied myself more important than someone who had correctly scheduled an appointment with him rather than just crashing in without announcement. Williams still seemed reluctant to turn back to Ms. Long, however, and struggled to keep his attention on her. She only stayed a couple moments more, thankfully, and then he was free to focus on me.

  “Well, you’re certainly a welcome surprise, Gwendolyn,” he declared. “Would you like to step into my office to discuss your business?”

  I nodded, and he motioned me through the door. Then he shut it behind us and sat down at his desk. I sat down across from him and launched into a summary of Editha’s proposition and my worries concerning it – save those that pertained to my new-found ability to shift between realms.

  Williams stayed quiet as he listened, and remained so for a good minute after I finished talking. I didn’t press him. He wasn’t a man to make hasty decisions, and that was why I wanted his advice so badly.

  “You can’t trust your stepmother,” he finally stated.

  “I know that.” I resisted the urge to slam my forehead against his desk. “And I don’t trust her. But I can’t let her win.”

  “No, you cannot,” he agreed. “Your father counted on you to overcome where he could not. Gwendolyn, you cannot let him down.”

  I swallowed down the lump that emerged in my throat. “So, what should I do? Do I take this offer? Should I not?”

  “That, my dear, is a very good question,” Williams agreed. He tilted his head to the side. “You do know that your family’s fortune was left to her on condition, correct?”

  “Yes – it will go to me upon her death, I know,” I admitted. “But that doesn’t do me any good right now. It’d be considered illegal if I went and outright killed her.”

  “Not just your own family’s fortune, but the whole of Editha’s own business empire,” he continued. “I oversaw the rewriting of both wills, and if she touches hers to divert even the slightest thing away from you, then everything your father left to her reverts back to you.”

  “I would prefer my own inheritance to anything of hers,” I declared, shaking my head. “Why would Father do that?”

  Williams took a long time to answer my question, instead standing and retreating out of the room. He returned a minute later, a letter in hand, which he laid down on the desk, and then he sat down in the chair next to mine. I tried to pick up the letter, but he laid his hand over mine as I touched the paper.

  “Gwen, there were always things that I could never hope to understand about your father,” he said, lowering his voice. “He was an enigma from the day I met him, all those years ago in college. I could never hope to understand him, and yet I loved that about him. He kept my life interesting.”

  My jaw tightened, not sure what he expected me to say. Of course, he had lost his best friend when I’d lost my father.

  “But I always knew that he told me the truth – even if it wasn’t the full truth,” Williams continued. “That was, until you were sixteen. That’s when … things changed.”

  “I know,” I admitted, voice scarcely over a whisper. “I know he changed.”

  He gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’m going to tell you what I know and understand. This l
etter, which I have not read – at his instruction – is supposed to contain the full story, or so he promised me. It is for your eyes only.”

  I gave it a sidewise glance and swallowed. “Why didn’t you give it to me sooner?”

  What did my father possibly have to say to me that he couldn’t tell Williams?

  “Because of your stepmother, now please don’t let me get ahead of myself – I may skip important information,” Williams answered. “Gwen, do you know why your father married Editha?”

  “No, I don’t,” I answered, my shoulders sagging. “That’s the great mystery of my life.”

  “To be frank, I don’t fully understand his decision, either,” Williams admitted. “But everything your father ever said concerning it makes me believe that there was blackmail involved. And that you were somehow what she was using against him.”

  I drew back, blood rushing to my ears. I would have withdrawn my hand, but his pressed it to the table, keeping it from going anywhere.

  “Blackmail, I can believe,” I admitted. “But … me?”

  “I know, I don’t understand it either,” Williams shook his head. “I know the state of your father’s finances, and while both your college and your heart surgery at sixteen were expensive, they by no means crippled him. And a need for money is the only reason I can possibly guess that he would have married her.”

  “Maybe … there was something you didn’t know?” I asked. Had my father known about the realms? Had he also been able to pass between them like I seemed to do? Was that possibly what the letter was about?

  “I know there were things I didn’t know,” said Williams. “As I said. Your father … always knew far more than he should have. Indeed, he knew he was dying, weeks before the accident. He wouldn’t say as much, but his actions couldn’t have been more clear. He suddenly began shifting his funds and giving me strange instructions – such as this letter. I was to give it to you a week after his will was read.”

  “A week after … oh.”