Twenty: Forgotten Fate
Pouncing forward the moment he first heard the splintering of glass, Wolf threw himself onto Virginia and bore her to the floor, shielding her and their unborn cub with his body.
He acted on instinct alone, not even thinking; he didn't have to, he had known going into the palace that Daviander intended to use the windows as his means of entrance into the throne room. That had been the key piece of information Wolf had revealed to the dragon when he described the throne room, that the windows provided easy access once they were smashed. But Wolf had not expected Daviander's arrival to be quite so catastrophic.
The sound was incredible, a shivering, almost crystalline wave so high it hurt his ears. Intermixed was the dragon's roars, the shrieks of the Ice Queen, and the howling of the wind as it was abruptly unleashed on the chamber by the downbeat of Daviander's wings. Shards of glass fell across his greatcoat, and Wolf ducked his head as low as possible, whimpering. Beneath him he could feel Virginia struggling, but he was not about to let her go until it was relatively safe.
Finally the hail of plate-glass subsided, and Wolf felt secure enough to look up. The windows were completely gone, only jagged remnants still joined to the frame, where twisted bars that had once separated the panes hung crazily, creaking in the breeze. The floor was covered with glass, as thick as the snow and ice, but no one had been harmed in the blast. Cinderella, Carmine, and the Trolls had all taken cover behind the ensorcelled blocks of ice, while the Ice Queen herself cowered behind the throne.
But then, through the colossal hole that opened the throne room to the sky came Daviander, and Wolf half-sat on the floor, speechless at the sight. He came like a bird of prey, a manifestation of the Golden Age brought to the present, a creature of times long gone, a wondrous and mystical behemoth with untold grace, beauty, elegance, and might.
The moment was frozen forever in Wolf's mind, all his senses aflame as they captured every detail—the sooty smell of sulfur and brimstone burning in his nostrils, the taste of dry, dusty air, the heat radiating out from the dragon's bulk to dispel the frigid cold.
It imprinted itself on his memory, everything coming to a halt, all motion suspended, captured like the most vivid of paintings, with everything that came before and that would come after focused on this one moment. Daviander entered the throne room, hovered high above them all, just below the ice-encrusted chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling, wings flapping lazily, neck arched sinuously, claws flexing and jaws working hungrily, his armored body not even scratched by the glass. He moved as if swimming, supple and beautiful, awe-inspiring and fearsome. He was a living legend, cast from a forgotten and shattered mold, his equal never to be seen again, an unparalleled majesty.
For the first time since he had seen Daviander, tears came to Wolf's eyes.
Then the moment was broken by the vilest shriek he had ever heard, and Daviander swung his serpentine neck to bring his blazing eyes to bear on the Ice Queen's slim figure on the dais. "Ice Queen!" he roared deafeningly. "Aroint thee, avaunt! An thou wouldst contend for mastery this day, contend with me, O Mistress of Death and Cold!"
Rising to her full height, the Ice Queen glared up at the dragon, a roiling tumult of emotions mixing on her countenance—fear, horror, fury, hatred. Bringing her wand to bear, she cried, "Hear me, O Dragon! Thou art the last of thy kind! I have hunted ye to your doom adown all the hallowed ages, and now I shall at last rid the Kingdoms of your foul taint!" Screaming incoherently, she brandished the wand and let loose a blast of ice as powerful as the fire Daviander had previously exhaled.
But the dragon took another massive breath, his chest inflating immensely, and released another stream of fire that met the ice halfway between himself and the witch, and where the two met an explosion of flame and snow burst outward, shaking the castle to its foundations. After five long minutes the warring magics canceled out, dissipating harmlessly into the air. Wolf could quite clearly see the look of shock and disbelief on the Ice Queen's face.
"Is that the best thou canst do?" Daviander taunted her, laughing contemptuously as he winged back and forth across the chamber. "Thou hast grown old and feeble, Griselda! Come now, do thy worst!"
The Ice Queen trembled from head to foot, until even her crown of icicles looked in danger of toppling from her brow. Suddenly seeming to remember the rest of them were there, she shouted to her ice demons. "Destroy them! Kill them all, especially Wolf and the Lady Virginia! I shall deal with the dragon..." She turned back, pushing up her ermine-trimmed sleeves in preparation for combat.
Scrambling to his feet, Wolf helped Virginia up and looked around frantically. The ice demons were closing in rapidly, surrounding them in a great semicircle, and he had no weapons except for his teeth and claws, having hoped they could disarm or destroy the Ice Queen before the demons became a problem. Huff-puff, now what were they to do?
Beyond the monsters, he could see the other monarchs emerging from hiding as well. As he spotted the three Trolls, inspiration struck him. "Hey, Troll-boy! We could use a hand over here!"
Burly narrowed his eyes, gazing in the direction of Wolf's voice. "Why should we help you?" he demanded querulously. "You stole our magic shoes again!"
Dense, dense! How dense could Trolls be? "Because if you don't, we're all going to get killed, that's why!" he practically screamed.
That seemed to get through to Burly. He glanced from his sister to his brother for advice; both of them, in contrast to him, seemed eager to fight, brandishing their weapons as they licked their dark, crooked teeth. Seeing which way the wind was blowing, Burly shrugged and smirked. "Very well, wolfie! Time for you to see how well Trolls can fight!" He drew his own blade and stalked toward the ice demons.
What began then was a monumental battle like none Wolf had ever before experienced. As Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell leapt forward and struck at the exposed backs of the ring of ice demons, Wolf himself assaulted them with claws and fangs, darting in and out, never in one place for very long. Because Virginia held onto his coat with a death-grip, he remained invisible, so the demons never knew where he was coming from or when he would strike.
At the same time, Daviander exhaled another blast of fire, only to be met by another whistling gale of ice from Griselda's wand. Back and forth he dodged, never tiring, relentless and fueled by an enmity that spanned centuries and eons, his enormous form circling the chamber to come at the Ice Queen again and again. The throne room rocked with the magics they wielded, as first fire, then ice sprayed indiscriminately from ceiling to floor. Fire slammed into the dais, hurling the throne backwards and sending the Ice Queen diving for cover. Then ice exploded upwards, just missing the dragon and instead forming an immense stalactite from an overhanging rafter.
All of this occurred out of the corner of Wolf's eye, as a backdrop to his own battle, for he could not dare to glance away more than a moment, the fight was so intense. Sweat streamed into his eyes as he pulled free of Virginia and dashed in yet again to slash at an ice demon's chest with his claws, but this time he was visible and too slow, and the beast snatched him from the ground with a roar like a snowstorm. Snow and ice billowed out of its cavernous maw, congealing on his face as he struggled in its icy grip. He was having trouble breathing, the hand squeezed his ribs so tightly.
Then Blabberwort was there, hacking and chopping with her shortsword, and in minutes the ice demon's hand had been cleaved from its arm. "Nicee nice!" she muttered, impressed in spite of herself. It staggered back, staring stupidly at its broken wrist as the missing appendage fell to the floor, breaking apart. Wolf felt Virginia at his side, working him free of the deathly cold grip, and he could not help shuddering as he staggered upright. He had come so close to dying there...
But there was no time for thought or even to take stock, for another demon was coming at him, and he had to leap aside. Grabbing a halberd from an ice-coated suit of armor in the corner, Wolf howled a battle-cry and leapt back into the fray, burying the blade, then the speartip, in the creature's chest. It fell back, confused and dazed, and then the three Trolls came at it from behind. Axes and maces smashed into the beast with impunity, first cracking, then splintering the ice demon. It howled in agony—the sound abruptly cut off as Wolf raised the halberd high and brought it smashing down to divide the demon's head cleanly in half. With a groan it fell to the floor and collapsed, inert.
Heartened, he and the Trolls turned to their next foe, for the demons were akin to animated statues, moving on their own accord but with no minds, thoughts, or intellects of their own, and so they made the mistake of coming at their opponents one at a time instead of as a group—which was a good thing, as otherwise there was no way Wolf or the Trolls could defeat them. As it was, they made a good team. Wolf smiled to himself and shook his head. Who would have thought such a turn of events could ever happen? War made strange huntpacks indeed...
Meanwhile, the Ice Queen was futilely trying to score a hit on Daviander, but the dragon was never in one place for very long, always crisscrossing the room in an unpredictable pattern, and the Ice Queen was fairly capering about on the smoking dais in her impotent fury. But even with the dragon's skill, luck could not stay with him forever. On one pass across the room, a blast of ice struck Daviander a glancing blow on one wingtip, but it was enough to freeze the leathery skin in place, forming thick icicles that impaired his flying ability. Growling in outrage, Daviander flapped his wing desperately, trying to crack the ice, but it was no use. Careening out of control, he gyrated downwards toward the floor.
Wolf heard Virginia scream, and he looked up in time to see Daviander hurtling down toward him. "Oh cripes!" Leaping out of the way, he slid across the icy floor until he bumped to a stop against someone's feet. As he used their legs to struggle back up, he was shocked to see it was Carmine.
They only had time for one quick exchanged glance before Red screamed, "Look out!" She shoved him down and threw a long, jagged-bladed knife with a scarlet hilt over his shoulder. Turning, he was stunned to see the knife buried in an ice demon's face, blinding it as it staggered helplessly around the room, leaving it disoriented and easy pickings for the Trolls, who soon hacked it apart. The force Red must have used for that throw was astonishing...he'd had no idea she had it in her...
But Daviander was still falling, and the Ice Queen was cackling in triumph as she prepared for another devastating cascade of ice. At the last moment, however, the dragon twisted in his fall and slammed his wing against a pillar. The ice on his wing broke off in a shower of snow that rained down on Bluebell, to his annoyance. Then Daviander was righting himself, arcing back up toward the ceiling. The Ice Queen howled in fury and pointed her wand again, but this time when the ice neared its mark, the dragon dodged—and the ice struck a chandelier.
With a groaning of marble ceiling tiles, the chandelier ripped free and plummeted toward the floor. Everyone managed to get out of the way of the descending light fixture—except for the ice demons. Fully half of the Ice Queen's ranks of soldiers were crushed by the thousands of pounds of gold, brass, and crystal. She stared at them in horror, the expression on her face rather suggesting she had just seen her children murdered before her eyes. Wolf smirked at her, although inwardly he could not help but wince at the damage they were causing. He hoped Wendell wouldn't take the bill for the repairs out of his pocket. Maybe Red would pay for it.
That idle thought was banished, however, as the Ice Queen clenched her fists and screamed at all those arrayed against her. "No! I shall not be defeated, not by powerless, pitiful fools like you!" She glared scathingly at the three Trolls, who stood over the fallen body of another ice demon they had hacked to pieces. "I will do what I should have done as soon as you all arrived!" She pointed the wand skewer-like at Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell.
A sheet of ice howled with hurricane force toward the Trolls, bolstered by the Ice Queen's rage, but only an instant after it struck, she was already turning toward the rest of them. Her eyes glinted with a cold so bitter it made Wolf's heart lurch. He had no time to think of himself, however, or the Trolls, for the Ice Queen was already unleashing her magic again, twice more in rapid succession.
He acted without thinking, running faster than he had ever run before even when in lupine form, hurling himself at the scarlet-cloaked form of Red Riding Hood III. As he knocked her to the floor, he saw the Troll King's shoes appear out of nowhere and bounce across the tiles, and then Virginia glittered into visibility as she in turn grabbed hold of Cinderella's periwinkle gown and pulled her down as well.
The blasts of ice just missed both monarchs, spraying benignly against the wall behind them.
His breath heaving in great gasps, Wolf lay atop Carmine in a mirror image of his earlier protective shielding of Virginia. He gazed down at her in shock as the enormity of what he had done penetrated his mind, and she too stared up at him in equally stunned disbelief. "You...you saved my life, Wolf..." Her voice was soft, amazed, and grateful. "Why?"
That was a very good question, but although he could not answer it in full, both because of the demands of the battle and the fact that he didn't know why himself, he did have an inkling of the reason. It all came down to what he had seen in Carmine since arriving at the palace...how she had argued their case and worked to save the Kingdoms all on her own, how she had appealed to Cinderella and then later insulted and distracted the Ice Queen when she had no way of knowing Wolf and Virginia were there to witness it.
"Well, you saved mine, Auntie," he shrugged. "Fair is fair. Besides...you're family. Which means if anyone gets to kill you, it's me." He smirked and winked at her, and found to his surprise that he really did mean it as a joke, not a threat. Something profound had just changed in their relationship, and she seemed to see it, too, as she gazed up at him in wonderment.
But they had no time to explore the matter further. In fact, Wolf was confused as to why he and Carmine had not been frozen while they paused to converse. When he looked up, he saw why. The Ice Queen was just a tad distracted at the moment, seeing as Daviander had taken her by surprise and was now assaulting her with blast after blast of fire. Smoke and steam filled the air, obscuring the dais and the room around it for twenty feet, while flames licked along the steps and pillars, their witch-like crackling providing an eerie counterpoint to the dragon's roars and growls.
Rising to his feet and helping Red up, Wolf looked and saw that the three Trolls had joined the ranks of the other monarchs, frozen solid in one enormous block of ice. An odd thought came to him, that the children of Relish, caught as they were in the act of trying to duck, were in almost the exact same positions as when they had been turned to gold nine months ago. Huff-puff, what a coincidence.
Then the smoke and fire parted as the Ice Queen stood erect on the dais, pointing her wand yet again at Daviander. The enchanted ice was already spurting upwards, chasing the dragon across the room, and each blast came nearer and nearer. It was only a matter of time.
"Wolf!" Virginia shouted. He turned to see her helping Cinderella into a chair. "The wand! Remember the plan!"
Of course, how could he have forgotten! It must have been the violence of the battle and the surprise of both the Trolls and Carmine changing sides that put it out of his mind.
Hurriedly he turned back toward the dais. The Ice Queen had her eyes fixed on Daviander, she was not even paying attention to the rest of them. As the dragon had predicted, although she had sent the ice demons after them and tried to freeze them, she saw Daviander as the only real threat to her, and that was her mistake.
A growing feral ferocity burned in his heart as he stared at Griselda, her every feature etched into his mind. This was the witch who had threatened the Kingdoms he loved, put Virginia in mortal danger once again, and who at this moment was trying to destroy the only remaining dragon...a creature for which he empathized acutely, a creature he longed to protect so he could live, could rise above the prejudice and hatred as Wendell's pardon was enabling the wolves to do. She had to be stopped. She did not deserve to live. No punishment would satisfy him except ripping her throat out with his own fangs.
Growling and snarling, his eyes burning a brilliant gold, Wolf launched himself toward the dais.
Breathing fast and hard, as if she had just run twenty laps, Virginia supported herself on the carved frame of the antique chair where Cinderella sat, watching in desperate hope and frantic fear as Wolf ran across the throne room to confront the Ice Queen hand-to-hand. She knew there was no other way to resolve this battle, that they had to disarm Griselda before she could be captured or killed, and that Wolf, with his strength, dexterity, and cleverness was the only one who could do it. But the dream still haunted her every moment. Carmine had not betrayed them, and Daviander had escaped his icy tomb before it had a chance to fully form, but the rest could still come true. Wolf could still be killed...
As he reached the steps, the Ice Queen turned, saw him, and brought her wand into play, but just as she sent another barrage of wintry wind toward him, he slipped on a stray patch of ice and fell to the floor. The fall saved his life, as the frigid ice passed right through where he had been standing and covered the golden doors of the throne room. Before she could recover and reorient, Wolf was there, crawling up the steps, latching onto her ankle, and pulling. The Ice Queen went down, and Wolf was upon her.
But the Witch of Winter was no easy target, and in moments she was struggling back to her feet, with Wolf clinging tenaciously to her arms, pinning them to her sides. She still held the wand, but at the moment it was useless as she flailed about with it. Wolf snapped at her face, and she recoiled violently, managing to pull one arm free of his grip. Unfortunately it was the arm that held the wand.
"Wolf!" Virginia screamed.
At the last possible second Wolf snatched the Ice Queen's wrist with his free hand, turning the wand away so that it coated the ceiling in ice instead of himself. And then began a wild, desperate struggle for control of the wand. Virginia watched breathlessly, unconsciously mimicking Wolf's movements, wielding her clenched fists in the air as if she could give him her strength. He certainly didn't need it, however, the tendons and sinews in his wrists and arms quivered and tensed like steel cables as he fought the Ice Queen every step of the way.
They stumbled across the broken dais, the wand vacillating back and forth between them, shooting out random bursts of ice and snow. More windows broke, a chandelier became a gigantic snowball, a raging wind and churning clouds escaped out the windows Daviander had broken to dump snow all across the rear gardens of the palace, while blue lightning bolts spattered and smashed against the walls. Virginia found herself constantly ducking, even when it was not necessary.
Then, as she glanced to the side, she was horrified to see a troupe of ice demons coming toward her and the two queens. There were only six left after the Trolls, Wolf, and the chandelier debacle had gotten through with them, but that was more than enough to kill or injure any of them. And none of them had any weapons, unless she could figure out how to use her magic. Apparently the demons had amazingly decided to take matters into their own hands and attack those who had put their mistress in danger.
"Daviander!" Virginia cried, even as she cursed herself for being so helpless as to constantly appeal to others for protection.
The dragon, who had been hovering watchfully near the ceiling, flapping his wings in massive beats and keeping his azure eyes fixed firmly on Wolf and the Ice Queen, looking for an opening to attack anew, turned and saw at once what was wrong. Inhaling deeply, he sent a sheet of flame at the floor surrounding the ice demons, ringing them into a circle of fire. Moaning in anguish and fear, the demons huddled together in the center of the circle, not daring to come near what could melt them. One problem solved, for now.
Clenching her fists, Virginia looked back to the dais and saw Wolf had his hands on the wand now, struggling for possession of it as he shoved the Ice Queen back against a pillar. She bit her lip and concentrated, willing her magic to rise up and give her the power she needed, but without training her will was diffuse, and all she felt was a tingling warmth in her hands and heart.
She was about to try again when she felt a hand tug on her sleeve. Turning, she saw Cinderella sitting up, alert and determined, in her chair. "Lady Virginia!" she hissed, squeezing her elbow tightly. "You must do something, Lord Wolf cannot stop Griselda alone!"
"I know!" Virginia whimpered. "But what can I do...what..." She paused as her eyes fell on the wrought-iron shape of the Spying mirror standing not far from the dais, and then it burst on her sight with the wonderful irony of fate. "Of course! The mirrors! They were my mother's, I can still command them, we can use the mirrors against her!" The Ice Queen had appropriated them for her own use, but now they would be her downfall.
Cinderella, however, looked troubled. "Are you certain, Lady Virginia? The mirrors are evil and dangerous...and which one shall you use? You wouldn't send her through the Traveling mirror, I should hope."
"No, of course not! I'd never unleash that witch on my world..." Her eyes darted around the semicircle, from one mirror to the next—and then she knew which one to use, what she had to do.
Just as she made her decision, there was a mingled cry of triumph and despair on the dais, and Virginia turned to see Wolf wrench the wand out of the Ice Queen's hand. Taking it in both hands, he grinned fiendishly at the witch, displaying all of his formidable fangs, then lifted one knee and snapped the wand in two over it.
A flash of intensely blinding light came from the severed halves of the wand, and Wolf was thrown backwards down the dais, slamming into the floor in the center of the circle of mirrors. Before he could get to his feet, the Ice Queen was dashing down the steps toward him, her eyes blazing with pure hatred and pain. In her hand was a long, cruel knife.
The knife from her dream.
Just as the blade was about to come down, Wolf threw up his arms so that instead of stabbing into his chest, it pierced one forearm. He howled in agony, but as she wrenched the blade free, he grabbed hold of her knife arm and thrust her backwards, rolling with her across the floor. Her blade flashed again and again, sometimes missing completely and sometimes tearing cloth, but Virginia could not tell if he was being wounded or not.
There was no more time. She had to act, and act now. But the mirror she wanted was on the far side of the circle from where she stood. If she went over to it herself to activate it, she wouldn't have enough time to get back to her starting point and attack before the Ice Queen landed a killing blow on Wolf. She needed someone to help her...
Wheeling back to the two queens, she blurted out, "I need one of you to go over there and turn the mirror on for me."
They stared at her, dumbfounded, for half a second, before Cinderella wheezed, "I'm two hundred years old, and all this confrontation has worn me out, Lady Virginia. I could never make it over there." She held onto the arms of her chair weakly.
Carmine, however, after the initial shock, had risen to her full height and was gazing at Virginia with determination, bravery, and unwavering loyalty. "I shall do it then. Simply tell me what it is I have to do."
For what felt like an eternity, but was only a minute or so, Virginia met Red Riding Hood III's blue-eyed gaze, searching her soul for any hint of duplicity. She could not find it. All she could find was a woman with pain and regret and guilt weighing her down, seeking to make amends. All she saw was a woman who only wanted to be trusted this once.
She had no choice. She had to trust Carmine now.
"All right...you have to find the catch, on the mirror's frame. It's got to be on either the left or right-hand side..."
It only took seconds to explain and for Virginia to get into position behind the Traveling mirror, which was directly across from the one she had selected. In that time, the Ice Queen had managed to rip Wolf's greatcoat to shreds, but he had in turn battered her face and knocked her crown askew, breaking off several of its rays. As Virginia held onto the rune-carved frame, Griselda brought her knife down again, and this time it stabbed into Wolf's shoulder. He howled again, tears of agony streaming down his cheeks as she ground it into the wound, but somehow, somehow, he was able to squeeze her wrist until the bones began to crack. Shrieking, the Ice Queen pulled back, letting go of the knife, letting Wolf get hold of it and work it out of his shoulder...
Across the circle, Carmine had bypassed the Mirror of Mnemosyne and the Seeking mirror and was now frantically searching the frame of the final mirror in the ring, running her hands over the intertwined serpents that composed it... Oh, Carmine, please do this one thing right...
Wolf threw away the knife, sending it skittering across the floor. The Ice Queen leaped at him again, getting both of her hands around his throat, proceeding to strangle him as he pounded his good hand against her back and shoulders...
Working her hands down the side of the mirror, Red Riding Hood finally seemed to find something. One of the serpent's heads moved, shifted under her palm. Her shoulders slumping in relief, the queen angled the piece of maple to the side, and at once the mirror's glass began to glow and shimmer...
The Ice Queen's face was maniacal and insane, eyes bulging, lips curled back from her gritted teeth as she throttled Wolf, pushing him against the floor and pinning his other arm down with her shoulder. Wolf was still struggling, trying to get his arm high enough to strike her...
Virginia tensed, feeling the magic at last begin to flare inside her, burning, building, flowing through every limb, her hands radiating white light...
Wolf wrenched his arm free and bashed the Ice Queen in the temple. Crying out, she lost her grip and he threw her aside, sending her rolling on the floor. She came to a stop...directly beside the knife. Cackling in glee, the witch grabbed the weapon, rising to her feet and turning a final time to face her opponent. She raised the knife high as, with a long, blood-curdling scream, she ran full-tilt toward Wolf where he struggled to rise...
And at that moment, Virginia leaped out from behind the Traveling mirror, jumped over Wolf, and intercepted the Ice Queen. She slammed into her with all her might, sending her tumbling back, off-balance, tripping. Virginia pursued her, pushing her again and again, her magic flaring each time and shoving the witch back another few feet. They were almost to the mirror now.
"Mirror!" she shouted. "Take this witch, remove her from this world for all time! Never let her remember who she is, or where she came from, or anything at all! Make her forget until she is absolutely nothing!"
Then with one last shove, Virginia sent the Ice Queen flying—right into the depthless void of the Lethe mirror.
Griselda's scream was piercing, so high and horrible it could scrape bones raw, as she fell back into the mirror's frame. At the last instant she caught hold of the maple wood with both hands, digging her fingernails in as deep as claws, preventing her from falling in completely. The Lethe mirror glowed incandescently, shaking from side to side as it sought to do Virginia's bidding, and an incredible suction began, a vortex of magic so strong it made every loose object in the throne room tumble and flip through the air.
Candlesticks, statuettes, knickknacks, coins, and other unidentifiable articles flew into the mirror, pelting the Ice Queen indiscriminately, but still she held on. Virginia felt herself stumble forward as the mirror latched onto her as well, and even Daviander, high in the throne room, seemed to feel it, flapping his wings frantically.
"Carmine!" Virginia yelled as she ran to the Lethe mirror. The queen was at her side at once, and together both of them grabbed onto the frame to keep from being sucked in.
Beyond the Ice Queen's gaunt visage was only a rotating maelstrom of mist and blackness, circling and churning like an immense whirlpool. It almost resembled an evil eye, staring at them, and Virginia had to restrain herself from being enchanted by its hypnotic power into letting go and stepping inside.
Ripping her gaze away, she pounded on one of the Ice Queen's hands while Carmine did the same on the other side. Gripping the frame with her free hand until the knuckles turned even whiter and bracing herself with her feet, the witch let go with her knife hand and began lashing out blindly with it. Holding on against the howling wind, Virginia could barely dodge the blows, and Red was having the same trouble.
Then the Ice Queen struck, stabbing out at Carmine. The queen screamed, nearly falling to her knees, and all the blood rushed from her face as she stumbled weakly, leaning against the mirror. But finding a well of determination, the auburn-haired woman hauled back and with all her strength punched Griselda right in the face. Stunned, the witch recoiled and her other hand loosened on the frame.
Knowing this was the only advantage she would receive, Virginia slammed her fist down on the Ice Queen's hand, then blasted her once more with the white light of her magic. There came the sound of scraping wood, and then the witch's hand came free of the frame.
"Nooooooooooooooo!" The sound of Griselda's cry would echo in Virginia's mind and haunt her for the rest of her life. It was a thin, inhuman wail, a sound of such fear, terror, horror, and despair that it seemed to embody all the suffering of those who had ever lived, of those whom the witch had frozen and killed in her centuries-long lifetime. As Virginia watched in mingled shock and grim pleasure, the Ice Queen tumbled back into the vortex, rotating and turning endlessly.
Then the hatred and fear left her face as a blank look crossed it, her eyes becoming empty, totally devoid of any thought, emotion, or memory. She fell back, sucked deeper and deeper, her knife falling with her, until she faded away completely and was gone.
Gasping and trembling, Virginia pulled back from the inexorable suction of the Lethe mirror, tears pouring down her cheeks as the fading of the adrenaline rush left her feeling hollow, and allowed her in turn to feel the full force of what had happened to Wolf, and nearly happened to her. Horrified, she hung onto the mirror's frame as she stretched across the vortex and snapped the serpent's head back into place. Weeping, she watched the glass flash once and go dark, cutting off the wind, then return to its normal appearance, glimmering faintly. She went limp, panting with her exertions.
Yet that was not enough for her. The mirror was evil and should never be used again, and she would take no chance that Griselda, even memoryless, might return to the Kingdoms.
Grabbing onto the frame, she pulled with all her strength, lifting the heavy mirror forward on its stand. With one last, groaning, grunting cry that seemed to require all her flagging energy, Virginia brought the Lethe mirror crashing down. It slammed into the marble floor before the dais and smashed into a thousand pieces.
Quiet, deep and pervasive, settled down over Wendell's throne room. It was such a marked contrast to all the violence and terrifying noise of the heated battle that had swept wildly around the dais for the past hour or so that it was almost unnatural, deafening in its silence. Slowly inhaling and exhaling as her heart stopped thudding in her chest, Virginia gazed down calmly and proudly at the remnants of the Lethe mirror, the evidence of the final venting of her fury, and relief flooded through her.
It was over. It was truly over. She'd done it. Somehow, after all the worry and fear, the confusion and doubt, she had succeeded in vanquishing the Ice Queen. The Kingdoms had been saved.
But at what cost? she suddenly wondered. As her churning emotions finally eased and logic and reason reasserted themselves, she realized what she had done. She had broken a magic mirror. Seven years' bad luck. And surely the luck associated with an evil glass such as this would be much worse than what her father had suffered after breaking the Traveling mirror. But what else could she have done? The Ice Queen had to be prevented from ever coming back. And the mirror had belonged to the Swamp Witch originally, so it had to be a deadly and diabolical device.
Finally, it was this very glass that had been used to wipe her mother's memories. However much it might have healed Christine and restored sanity to her mind, it had also robbed her of her life, made it so that she could never come home again. For that reason alone Virginia could never forgive the Lethe mirror. It deserved to be broken.
Even so, she gazed one last time at the cracked and split maple that had been the frame, her eyes somehow finding with revulsion and horror the deep grooves in the wood left by Griselda's fingernails. The Ice Queen had been evil...but that did not make her fate any less disturbing and awful. It was something she would never forget, something she did not know if she could ever come to terms with. She'd had no choice, it had been her or the witch, and after what she had nearly done to Wolf, Virginia could have killed her with her bare hands. Yet her conscience lingered, wondering if things could have been different. She didn't think so, but...
Sighing, she turned away from the halo of broken glass and looked back across the room. As she did, she saw Wolf finally make it to his feet and stumble toward her, and at once all thought of Griselda and the mirror were driven from her mind. The demands of the battle and her own conflicted emotions had prevented her from truly realizing what had happened, but now with stark clarity the severe wounds Wolf bore registered, and at once she started to cry again. "Oh, Wolf...Wolf...are you all right?"
"Why...certainly, Virginia...never felt better..." he gasped, leaning against the Spying mirror. After a few minutes he seemed to recover his breath and could speak normally again. "But huff-puff, I could sure use a nice roast mutton and a loooooong sleep in the den..."
In spite of herself Virginia started to laugh. That was her Wolf, all right. If he could still fixate on sheep, he couldn't be too badly off. She was just starting in his direction when a strange cracking, crunching sound attracted her attention. Puzzled, she turned...and stared. In the center of the ring of fire, which was slowly dwindling and guttering out, the ice demons formed a pathetic, mournful group, but even as she watched, their bodies began to calve, great chunks of melting ice falling off to smack wetly against the tiles, and they were dripping copious streams of runoff. In only a few minutes, there was nothing left of them but pieces of ice and a growing puddle on the floor.
Beyond them, then, she saw that the throne room, too, was melting, water trickling and gurgling down the walls and dripping from the ceiling, icicles breaking off, sheets of crystalline glaciers sliding downwards to sag and dissolve at the baseboards. The sound soon became as loud and powerful as a mountain river, and the floor was fast becoming a small lake. Already she could feel the ambient temperature rising, and as the wind blew in through the shattered windows to stir and ripple the water, she could smell pollen, grass, horse manure, and flowers. They were the most welcome smells she could remember, the smells of summer.
The spell was broken.
Virginia met Wolf's eyes, and despite the pain and anguish there, she could see a relaxation of the tension that had haunted them since starting this quest, the release of all their worries and fears now that victory was theirs. Not needing to say a word, she turned again and looked back at Carmine, who had followed much more slowly and now stood between her and the mirror, holding one hand to her stomach. "Carmine! We did it! Don't you see, the magic is wearing off!"
Hurrying to the queen's side, she smiled at her, so caught up in the wonder of the moment that all her suspicions and hatreds for this woman were brushed aside, replaced only by excitement and celebration. Acting on instinct, she embraced Red Riding Hood III, and was surprised when Carmine hugged her back.
It was then, as she pressed herself to the monarch, that she felt something wrong—a throbbing, pumping heat against her abdomen, sticky and thick, and growing hotter and heavier by the minute. Puzzled, she reached down between them...and her hand came back a vivid scarlet. Staring in horror at Carmine, she saw her blue eyes unfocus and roll back in her head, and then she sagged, collapsing in her arms.
"Carmine!" Catching the queen, she let her slowly slide to the floor, and it was only as she crouched over her that she realized the truth. The royal robes of the Second Kingdom, being crimson, had hidden the extent of her injury. The wound was deep, incredibly deep, directly over her liver if she remembered anatomy correctly, and it was spurting and leaking blood at an astonishing rate. A brief vision flashed before her eyes of Griselda's last moments, when her knife had stabbed outward. "Wolf, get over here!"
He was at her side in only a few moments, helping her clear away the glass and rest his aunt gently on the floor with one arm as the other hung fairly useless and dripping blood. "Oh, cripes...oh, huffity-puffity..." She could tell from the ashy look on his face that the wound was as life-threatening as she'd feared—or was that grayish color only due to Wolf's own injuries?
As Wolf started tearing out the lining of his greatcoat to staunch the flow, Virginia turned desperately for help. Cinderella still sat in her chair, but was slowly rising to her feet. Daviander was hovering watchfully in the center of the room, but as she met his gaze, he flew closer and settled to the floor with a crunch of glass and a solid thud. "Daviander, you have to melt my father and Wendell so they can tell us where the doctor is. Carmine may die..."
"Hmph," the dragon commented laconically. "So now thou dost vouchsafe to offer succor to Red Riding Hood III, when before thou didst only wish to kidnap her? Ah, now I understand thy logic."
Stricken, Virginia reeled back from the accusation. She hadn't expected that, she hadn't even thought Daviander would care, let alone judge her and Wolf's actions. It was also not something she really needed to deal with right now. "People change, Daviander. We were wrong about her...and anyway, we don't want her to die, so just help out, would you? Please?" She begged him, not only with her words, but with her eyes.
Something in her expression and tone must have convinced him of her sincerity, for the dragon soon nodded and turned to the ranks of ensorcelled ice blocks, which apparently still needed his magic fire to be melted. As soon as she saw him bathing the first prisoners with orange flames, she relaxed and turned back to Carmine.
The auburn-haired woman was breathing shallowly, her complexion almost as pale as the Ice Queen's had been, and she hissed in pain whenever Wolf pressed too hard with his makeshift bandages. She looked up as Virginia met her gaze. "Well, Lady Virginia...it looks as if...you get your wish...I shall trouble you and Wolf...no more..."
"Stop that," Virginia admonished her, even as her voice shook. "You're not going to die!"
"Yes...I am..." Carmine moaned. "I can see...the look in your eyes. And it...it's better this way. I knew coming...coming here that I might die. I accepted it. I even...welcomed it. Now...now it is up to you...and Wolf...to right my wrongs...to end the persecution...and the hatred..." She coughed, hacking up blood, and nearly passed out from the pain.
Virginia stared at her in shock, both at the unexpected blessing and the distress she felt at seeing Carmine dying before her eyes. This was not the same woman who had so viciously attacked her back in Incarnadine, or who had nagged and complained throughout the journey west, or who had made scathing comments about wolves, or hit the Piper over the head with a rock.
This wasn't even the same woman who had curled up beside the campfire and shivered like a lost little girl. This was someone else entirely, someone with a heart and compassion, tenderness and understanding. Someone who only wanted to make a supreme gesture to undo her many evils. Someone Virginia could no longer hate...and who she wished she could come to know.
Snow White had been right...all of their destinies had been tied together, if not for Carmine, the Ice Queen would never have been so goaded into anger as to make so many mistakes; and without her Virginia could never have activated the mirror in time. She had changed, she had finally changed...and it seemed so brutally unfair that it came too late.
Despite all that Carmine had done, tears came to Virginia's eyes.
"All this self-sacrifice is quite noble and affecting," came a dry, sardonic voice behind her. "But I'm afraid it's all for nothing, Carmine." Virginia turned to see Cinderella standing over them, her arms crossed over her chest and one elegant eyebrow raised.
"What do you mean?" the queen of the Second Kingdom protested weakly. "Please, Cindy...do not sully my final hours of life on earth...let me die peacefully...and without a struggle." She placed one hand on Wolf's. "You can stop pretending you want to save me, Wolf. I know the truth. Please...I know I deserve a far more cruel death for all I have done...but this was my destiny. So let me go...I know what I know, and it is...my time."
Before Wolf could do more than growl softly at his aunt's presumptuousness, another voice interrupted the tableau—a firm, aristocratic male voice that was wonderfully familiar. "I hope you're not too disappointed when you wake up the day after tomorrow and find out you haven't died, Red."
Again Virginia turned, knowing who she would see. There, next to his grandmother and looking as dignified, royal, and handsome as ever despite his rather sodden white uniform, was Wendell, a strange mixture of sternness, worry, and amusement on his long face with its receding jawline. Beside him stood the crotchety old Royal Physician, also dripping, and beyond him was—
"Dad!" Leaping to her feet, Virginia ran as fast as she could, ignoring Carmine's rather unladylike mutterings as she rushed into Tony's arms and embraced him tightly. His shirt was soaked, but she didn't care as she buried her face in his shoulder and hugged him tighter than she ever had in her life. He hugged her back more gently, but with just as much love. "Oh, Dad, I'm so glad to see you! I thought...I was afraid that..." She bit her lip and pulled back, staring up and stroking his cheek, hardly daring to believe this was really happening. She'd dreamt of it for what seemed like so long now...
After she had blinked the tears from her eyes and could see again, she hugged him again and then stepped back, taking his hands in hers. "Are you okay?"
"Me?" he laughed. "You're the one I should be asking that, you're the one who was out here fighting those ugly frozen monsters and an ice witch! We could see everything, but we couldn't do anything..." He trailed off and swallowed against a large lump in his throat.
"Oh, honey, I was so scared, more scared than I've ever been in this crazy place. I thought I was going to lose you, right in front of my eyes, and I wouldn't be able to do a damn thing to stop it." Now he was the one with tears in his eyes.
Flicking her eyes to the side, Virginia saw Daviander watching from a few feet away, his azure eyes moist as well as he witnessed their reunion, and then the dragon looked away. Tony followed her gaze and shuddered. She couldn't blame him for being frightened or distrustful of Daviander when she hadn't acted much better at their first meeting, but she still couldn't help but bristle inwardly at her father's prejudgment. He didn't even know the dragon, what he was like inside...
"It's all right now, though," she said softly. "Everything's okay, we're together now."
"Are you sure?" Tony asked with concern, his face as rumpled and earnest as ever. "You didn't get hurt or anything? Nothing's wrong?"
"I wouldn't say that." The voice was Wolf's. Virginia turned to see him rising from a quick consultation with the doctor, who was already at Carmine's side and, to her relief, checking her wound with a thorough, expert touch as he opened his medical pouch. As soon as he saw Red was in good hands, Wolf strode in their direction, wincing a little.
Tony, meanwhile, had been staring in disbelief at Wolf. He turned back to Virginia in consternation. "What is he talking about? What's wrong?" Then, with a suspicious look at Wolf, "What did you do to my daughter—besides get her pregnant?"
Virginia flinched. Five months ago, before she'd started showing, she had gently informed her father of his impending grandfatherhood. Needless to say, he had been none too happy, since he had managed to convince himself that Wolf's parting words on going back through the mirror had only been a joke. But he had accepted the situation, albeit with ill grace, more she thought because this was one more way in his mind for Wolf to maneuver Tony out of her life than because he didn't want a grandchild or didn't like Wolf. Yet a certain hostility still existed between Tony and Wolf and flared up at odd moments. Like now.
Shaking aside the same old thoughts and worries, she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, what do you mean, Wolf? This I'd like to hear."
Wolf looked distinctly uncomfortable under all this scrutiny, but Virginia was not about to relent. Shifting his gaze aside, he whimpered and pointed at the shattered Lethe mirror. "The mirror, Virginia...you really shouldn't have broken it."
Tony gasped, as if suddenly recalling what had taken place, and looked dumbly from the broken glass to Virginia. "That's right! That's seven years' bad luck...how could you do that, Virginia? And after all the crap you put me through over the Traveling mirror! I can't believe this, I just can't believe this, this is just great—!"
He rattled on for several minutes in the same way, berating her over and over for her stupidity, showing no signs of stopping. Virginia rubbed her forehead. Suddenly she remembered what she hadn't missed about her father. Plus, he and Wolf were voicing the fears she'd already had a short while ago, which made her even more upset.
When Tony paused to take a breath, she rolled her eyes and said, "I think I liked you better in the ice."
Whatever he would have said was swallowed as he droned to a halt, giving her that hurt look she knew all too well. "But, honey, remember what happened to me the last time? Let's see, I got hit by a rock, I stepped on a nail, we lost our pack, I got stung by wasps—you weren't there for that, were you?—I broke the Dwarves' mirrors and then my back..."
"Please, don't remind me!" she snapped. "Look, it was my mirror, wasn't it? I can do whatever the hell I want with it. And I've got magic of my own, wouldn't that help me cancel it out? Besides, if I do get bad luck we can always have Snow White get rid of it like she did for you."
Her emotions were getting the better of her and her voice was rising, attracting the attention of Wendell and Cinderella, and she really didn't want to have to deal with all this. Not now, so soon after a victory she had wanted to savor, and when she had wanted more than anything to lie down and rest. She had probably overexerted herself, in fact she felt rather queasy.
Wolf and Tony were exchanging uncertain and worried glances, for once united in their common concern. She didn't blame them, her excuses sounded lame even to her. But nothing could be done about it now, so she just turned her back on them and gazed off stonily across the throne room.
Daviander had been quietly continuing the process of melting and releasing all the other monarchs and courtiers. Virginia noticed the three Trolls had been freed and now stood alone and abandoned by the wreckage of the chandelier, looking as forlorn and sad as if they had lost their last friend. Seeing them reminded her of something she needed to do, something that would give her an excuse to get away from Wolf and her father. Picking her way through the melting ice, she searched the floor for a while until finally she found the magic shoes where she had discarded them. Then, with a determined stride, she headed toward the Trolls.
They started as they saw her approaching, and Burly placed a hand warningly on his axe handle, but she ignored him, instead stepping up to Blabberwort. As she did she held out the shoes. "We didn't steal them again," she declared simply. "I found them washed up on the bank of the river, after we met you in the forest. They were very useful to us on our quest...in fact they probably helped us save the Kingdoms. And so did you, when you fought the ice demons. So here." She placed the shoes in Blabberwort's slack grip. "Take them with our blessing...and our gratitude."
Blabberwort stared at her as if she had grown another head, her mouth working fish-like for several minutes. Then she clutched the shoes possessively to her chest and nodded slowly. "That's...very nicee nice of you, girlie. I suppose...we were wrong about you." She said it as if she were eating something a Troll found disgusting, such as a sweet pastry.
"Yeah," Bluebell mumbled sullenly. "Guess we can't blame you for our dad's death anymore."
"At least the one who did kill him is dead," Blabberwort pointed out.
Burly smiled slowly, showing all his jagged, crooked teeth. "That's right. Guess we should be thanking you, little witch...er, Lady Virginia." He scrunched up his face grotesquely. "Force of habit...but don't think of asking for any favors now, you hear?" Then he actually winked at her.
Virginia managed a tentative smile and then slowly backed away, waving cheerfully. When she judged she was far enough away, she turned around and hurried off. As she went she could hear the three Trolls arguing vigorously behind her.
"They're mine!" Bluebell growled. "See, they're just my size!"
"You blockhead!" Burly snarled. There came the sound of a massive fist connecting with the solid bone of a Troll cranium. "They're magic, they fit everybody!"
"She gave them to me," Blabberwort sniffed.
"But I'm the Troll King!"
A fierce brawl ensued.
Giggling, Virginia headed back toward the dais to see how the others were doing. She saw that the doctor was still crouched intently over Carmine, from time to time taking another instrument, a cotton swab, or a bit of sparkling powder from his pouch, while Wendell and Cinderella watched over his shoulder. She wondered why they hadn't moved the queen to a more sanitary place, then answered her own question—they probably hadn't wanted to jostle her and aggravate the wound. When she was stabilized, they'd take her to a guest room.
She was about to go back and apologize to Wolf and her father when that weird queasy feeling came over her again. She frowned, holding her stomach. It came again, stronger. Then again, and this time there was a sharp stabbing pain with it that made her cry out.
Before she could call for help, she heard a strange sound. It was the sound of galloping hooves, but it bore with it the sound of breaking glass, only more so. It was as if there was a tinkling, shattering wave of breaking glass coming towards her on horseback. It grew louder and louder, shook her, and then enveloped her.
The pain became suddenly excruciating, and she screamed as she bent over double and nearly fell to her knees in the icy slush. She heard pounding feet, then hands were supporting her, helping her up as Tony and Wolf were there, attentive and protective.
"Sweetheart?" Wolf whined. "Are you all right? What's wrong, my creamy love?"
"Wolf...I..."
Once more the pain flared, so intense she nearly blacked out, and then she felt wet. Staring down, she saw the crotch of her jeans was soaked with a spreading stain. "My water just broke..." she whispered.
Tony stared at her with bulging eyes. "What?" But she ignored him as, with a long, agonized scream, she did fall to her knees, held up only by Wolf. She was having the baby.
It didn't take long, even with Wolf and Tony arguing over what to do, to get Virginia situated on the far side of the dais in the shelter of the fallen throne, safe from prying eyes and granting them much-needed privacy. But from there all devolved into confusion.
Virginia half-sat against the throne, gritting her teeth and moaning as she listened to her father and her mate panic and rush madly about.
"What do you mean, you can't help?" Tony was shouting at the doctor. "My daughter's giving birth, for God's sake!"
"I cannot abandon Her Majesty, Lord Lewis," the physician snapped irritably over his shoulder. "Her condition is much more serious than Lady Virginia's!"
"Oh cripes oh cripes oh cripes," Wolf whimpered piteously, hovering over her like an errant cloud. "I don't know what to do, I can't do anything, why didn't I pay attention to Aunt Celia when I was a cub, oh I'm such a useless worthless wolf ohhhhhhhhh—" His ramblings dissolved into a howl.
Tony was back in moments, his eyes wide and his tongue licking at dry lips as he ran his hand through his thinning hair. "Ummmm...oh God...I guess I could do it, but I was only there the one time, the doctors did it all, and you're my daughter..."
"Well somebody do something!" Virginia screamed.
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Someone shoved her father aside and then Cinderella was there, hiking up her periwinkle skirts and carefully kneeling. "If someone would kindly assist me, I will take over from here."
Wolf left off his muttering to stare in relief and joy at the queen of the First Kingdom, but Tony was staring at her incredulously. "Pardon me, Cinderella, but do you even know what you're doing?"
The withering look the old woman gave her father would have melted stainless steel. "In case you've forgotten, I was not always a queen. When I was a scullery maid in my stepmother's manor, I was often called upon to deliver calves and foals, and whenever the midwife was away or occupied in the local village, I had to attend to expectant mothers as well. Not to mention I have been a mother myself more times than I can count, so I certainly know the process much better than you! Now, if you are not planning on helping, you are a hindrance and I would ask you to remove yourself from my presence. Which is it going to be?"
Without a word, a subdued Tony knelt down beside Cinderella, looking decidedly sheepish.
As Wolf came to Virginia's other side and took her hand, the aged monarch managed to disrobe her lower half and prop her legs into the birthing position. By that time the pain was even more gut-wrenching, and she couldn't tell if her abdomen was turning inside out or her pelvis was on the verge of snapping apart. She tried to breathe the way her Lamaze coach had instructed her, but her concentration kept being broken by the ridiculous image of Wolf huffing and puffing along with her as if he were trying to blow down the Three Little Pigs' houses. She'd laughed until her sides hurt during her classes whenever that had happened, but now she could barely squeeze out a giggle.
Gripping Wolf's hand, she glared up at him through the fringe of her bangs. "Is it like this...for all wolf-mothers...or is this just my bad luck? Tell me...tell me!"
He whimpered and looked away evasively. "I...I don't really know, dumpling. I've never been a father before either."
Virginia snarled. "I'm going to kill you for this!" She knew she was acting like every cliché mother in the history of motherhood, but she couldn't help it, it hurt!
Another wave of agony spasmed through her and she tried to draw her legs up against her stomach, but Cinderella and Tony had her ankles locked firmly in place, and all she could do was scream and pant and jerk about. Then a bright white light filled her vision, and for a moment she was afraid she had been overcome by the pain and blacked out. But when the light cleared, everything was the same as before...except... Her jaw dropped. There, beyond and between her two attendants, was her mother!
Christine's expression was at once grave and tender, and one hand was extended, draped in the sleeve of the same green velvet riding cloak as before, fingers spread. Virginia opened her mouth to cry out, but her mother shook her head and put a finger to her lips. "No, Virginia...no one else can see me but you. Snow White sent me this time, and I must say she is most put out with you for breaking a magic mirror, it was quite irresponsible to endanger your life and your baby's!
"Still, she is forgiving of a great heroine, and has granted me the power to end your bad luck now, before it strikes again with far more malevolence." A soft golden nimbus surrounded her auburn hair, and then Virginia's shoulders felt lighter, as if a burden had been lifted from them. She couldn't believe this...she knew sometimes a woman giving birth might have hallucinations, but this!
Smiling gently, her mother reached out and placed her hand on Virginia's abdomen. "And this is my gift to you...a little magic to ease the pain." A warm, lazy lassitude washed over her body, dulling the pain to a barely discernible ache, and she gazed up in shock at Christine. "It is the least I can do, my daughter. Now bear down with the contractions, and be the greatest mother you can be." A shimmer passed through the air, and then the spirit faded away.
Stunned, Virginia lay there slackly for what felt like hours but was only a few seconds as she realized it had been real...her mother truly had come to her, there could be no denying the change in her body. It was as if she had been injected with a powerful anesthetic.
Then she felt her muscles tense of their own accord, heard her father and Cinderella urging her to push, and knew what she had to do. As tears came to her eyes and her heart beat with happiness and love, she clung to the vision she had seen, the visitation she had received and all its portents. Then she prepared to give it her all.
Time passed—how much Virginia didn't know, it felt like days but could not have been more than an hour or two. She didn't know if it was all happening so fast because of the bad luck, or because the baby was part wolf, and she didn't care, because as far as she was concerned, the faster the better. Her hair dripped with sweat and her body became soaked with it as she valiantly strove to follow Cinderella's terse and strict instructions. She could feel Wolf gripping her free hand, could see Tony's flushed and tense face.
At last another contraction came, more powerful than all the others, so strong it overrode the magic and filled her with pain, as if she were tearing open. Dimly she could hear Tony's excited voice, then Cinderella's calm one. "One more push, Lady Virginia, I can see the head."
Nodding weakly, she gathered all her will and bore down one last time, straining and pushing until, with a shriek, she felt the pain subside. There was a long, expectant pause, and then came a sound she thought was more beautiful than any she had ever heard—a baby's squalling cry. Laughing and crying simultaneously, she fell back against the throne and closed her eyes, relaxing, panting, listening to that most joyous of noises.
When she opened her eyes again, Wolf was there, his face aglow with excitement, awe, and pride, and he was holding something small and squirming wrapped in her sweater. "Oh, Virginia...Virginia...look at our son! Isn't he the most handsome chap you've ever seen?"
She looked into the bundle, and it was like time had stopped as she drank in every feature, the tiny hands, the soft pink skin, the precious mouth parted to still emit that wholesome cry, the dark green eyes gazing up boldly and roguishly, the thick curl of dark brown hair plastered down to his head...and sticking out of the sweater, an adorable tail of the same color, only a few inches long but flicking and twitching as madly as his father's during the full moon.
Looking up from Tony's equally proud countenance to Cinderella's slow, warm smile, Virginia at last met Wolf's gaze, which was both expectant and a trifle worried, as if he actually thought she could be displeased with the baby. Then she chuckled softly. "He most certainly is...and it sounds like he's already got you wrapped around his pinky, the little con artist...he's his father's son all right." She smirked. "A little furry chap, only much smaller."
At that moment the doctor finally appeared to check on her, only to find his work done for him. After tying off and cutting the cord, he returned the baby and for the first time, Virginia was able to hold her child. As she rocked the infant tenderly in her arms, she caught the doctor's attention. "How is Carmine?"
"It was touch-and-go for a while there," he admitted candidly. "But she will live. She has a strong will, you know."
"Oh yes, believe me I know."
A smile appeared on the doctor's craggy face as he watched her, then he turned to Wolf. "And now for you, let's have a look at those wounds..."
Wolf protested, of course, not wanting to leave his family, but Virginia gave him a long, hard stare, and he consented with the look of a dog that had tucked its tail between its legs. It took a short while to peel off the blood-soaked greatcoat and unbutton his shirt, and the wounds uncovered made Virginia want to retch. She had to avert her eyes, but the doctor set at once to cleaning and stitching them, and Wolf nerved himself and took it bravely.
After that everything seemed like a blur to Virginia. She was vaguely aware of Daviander melting the last of the courtiers and then silently gliding out of the windows to rest in the gardens, of the doors to the throne room opening and armed guards entering to investigate after their duty to the king had overcome their fear of the raging battle. But none of it seemed to matter to her, she only had eyes for her mate and her cub.
All of her fears were gone now. To be sure, she still knew a long road lay ahead raising her family, and that parenting would be no easy task. But as she gazed at her son and rocked him in her arms, she knew she would face whatever lay ahead with strength and determination. This was her child, and she would be what her mother could not. The past was erased, no longer relevant, and all she foresaw was days of bliss, of love, of peace.
She had certainly earned it. They all had.
Eventually, though, she grew tired of just lying about and wanted to rise. There was something she had to do, a desire that had come to her unexpectedly as she played idly with her son's tail and that grew stronger with every moment. But while she had been cleaned up and the chancellor had given her his jacket to preserve her modesty, she was still very weak.
She tried to get up on her own, but collapsed almost at once. Tony caught sight of her from where he was talking firmly and directly to the castle matron regarding his grandson receiving the utmost care and rushed to her side. "Virginia! What do you think you're doing, you just had a baby!"
"I...I need to get up, I need to show him to everyone," she said as levelly as she could manage.
He glared at her in his stern father expression. "Virginia, as your father I order you to stay put."
She glared right back. "Take. Me. Over. There. Now, Dad."
At that point Tony wisely chose not to argue anymore and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, helping her up.
Together they circled the dais and came to where Wendell was watching over Carmine's prone form until the servants came to carry her to her chamber. As they approached, Virginia saw someone else was with Red Riding Hood as well, someone she was very glad to see alive and well. "Lord Rupert!"
The master of protocol and etiquette rose, turning with a beaming expression on his face. "Lady Virginia! Oh, how good it is to see you again! And how breathtakingly magnificent your victory was! Carmine was just returning my ring to me and telling me all about your adventures..." He broke off as he saw the baby in her arms, and somehow his smile became even more radiant and gleaming.
"And what a darling baby! Oh, I've never seen a baby as handsome and sweet, as cuddly and warm, no I haven't, oh no I haven't..." He degenerated at once into baby talk as he began to tickle and fondle the cub, who on his part seemed most intrigued and amused by the silly lord. He began nibbling on Rupert's fingers, who only mildly protested.
Managing to tear away from Rupert after several minutes of this, Virginia crossed to Wendell, who smiled fondly at her and offered his own congratulations. But it was to Red that she gave the most attention. The queen still lay flat on her back to keep her stitches from opening, but her face was no longer quite so pale, and her expression was one Virginia had never seen before...calm, content.
Carmine gazed up as, with Tony's help, she knelt down beside her. "Lady Virginia...it seems I was premature in my pronouncements. So sorry to get your hopes up."
Virginia sighed; this self-loathing and melancholy were fast becoming as annoying as the hatred and prejudice that had preceded them. "Your Majesty...I'm glad you're all right."
The monarch blinked. Then, seeming unable to reconcile this statement to herself, she instead flicked her eyes to the sweater-bundle and smiled almost shyly. "I hear you yourself also had a medical emergency. May I see...?"
"Yes, of course. That's why I came over here." Slowly she held out her baby, folding back the sweater to reveal him.
For a long time Carmine stared at her grand-nephew, and he stared back at her, and something unspoken seemed to pass between them. The moment was electric, and as Virginia watched she was amazed by the surge of emotions on the other woman's face—gentleness, love, amusement, and as she fingered his brush of a tail, awe.
This only confirmed what Virginia had suspected all along, that Carmine had never seen a wolf cub before of any percentage. In her prejudice she had never allowed herself to view a "mongrel"...but now, as the queen of the Second Kingdom gazed at the baby, Virginia could tell she saw no mongrel, and the discovery had altered events once again. A quantum leap had occurred, and now nothing would ever be the same.
"What is his name?" Red Riding Hood breathed, running a finger through the baby's hair as if he were a fragile work of art in danger of breaking.
Virginia paused, and then she slowly smiled. She glanced once at Wolf, who was still being tended by the doctor but who, as always, was looking only at her. They had talked for many hours in the months since returning to New York, consulting baby name books galore, but in the end the choice had been easy and fitting, and had been decided long ago.
"Warren," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "His name is Warren."