"The Woman Immolated Upon the Pyre"

Costanza was so dizzy, sick, and exhausted she hardly knew where she was or what she was doing. All of the world turned into a blur as her hands continued to fly. Blood oozed from eight different spots on her fingers but she worked on and on. Just a few hours more and she would be finished.

She heard noises at the door leading to the dungeon when she had all but six of the petal arrays stitched in. Rather than move down from top to bottom, she had done them interim. She left some gaps in the stitching but she prayed beyond hope that it was good enough for a complete shirt. There was no time for anything else. She had half-stitched the current one and worked so wildly to finish it she kept pricking her fingers. As soon as she got it almost completely stitched, the door to the upstairs opened. The heavy sounds of men's boots marching down began to come.

Sweating bullets, quivering from hunger, thirst, and lack of sleep, she frantically finished the stitching just as they came into view. One of them, spotting her still working, immediately ordered the men to retrieve her. Quickly, she tried to tie off the last knot. Her fingers fumbled everywhere. They finally managed a loop and a tie just as the key was in the lock. By the time the door was opened and they were coming in, she leaned down, grasped the other end of the string with her teeth, and yanked it back to make it tight. She threw the shirt on top of the others just as the men roughly seized her and yanked her to her feet, keeping them from tearing it.

She could do nothing but endure what happened next as her torn and sullied dress was ripped fully off of her body and she was dressed in coarse sackcloth instead, before her hands were bound tightly behind her back and a noose tightened around her neck. Both were painful enough to dig into her, but as she was a doomed woman it didn't matter if they damaged her. The noose wasn't meant to end her life but rather to lead her around like an unruly animal, and soon it was tightened nearly to choking her before the largest of the guards seized the end and used it to drive her out of the cell. She could barely walk by now, but he pulled on it tight so that if she faltered she would be strangled. She was forced to stay upright as they roughly shoved her to the stairs and made her start ascending them. Through the horrible clenching around her neck and her arms being painfully wrenched, she looked back and saw the men roughly gather up the shirts like they were old rags. She prayed again they wouldn't come apart as, bumping her ankles and stubbing her toes all the way, she was forced up the long staircase.

When she finally emerged through the heavy door at the top of the stairs, she was almost blinded by the well-lit chamber beyond it, but she was dragged along by the men. As soon as she could see, she tensed greatly on noticing it was still dark out. She remembered Samuel's promise but realized dawn had not yet come. Had he failed? She didn't know, but even if she had the presence of mind to fight she hadn't the strength. She only felt a cold sensation sink deep in her stomach as she realized she was being drug out straight to the courtyard. Fear aroused what was left of her wits as the true reality of what was coming set upon her.

After all too short a time, although it had to have been some distance, they reached the heavy double doors of the castle. They were parted, and the courtyard beyond was exposed. The cold feeling in her redoubled. The sky was beginning to transition to light purple, but braziers were lit all over the wall and on the court below. Aisles of people were assembled in a crowd to bear witness to what was about to transpire. Her vision was too stunted to see all of their faces, but she could see what loomed beyond them erected in the middle of the courtyard: a tall wooden stake piled all around with wood and kindling. The men with her wasted no time in letting her look at it but began to drag her straight toward it.

Helpless to do anything but submit, she went along just to keep any further pain and agony from stretching toward her neck. She tried to look to the sky more than once, but the one handling her jerked her so painfully and hard she was forced to keep her head straight all the way to the unlit pyre. As soon as she was close enough, she saw that oil had already covered the mount of logs, and the men quickly pulled her atop the uneven pile. It was almost impossible for her to move across now, but they didn't have her walk. Rather, two seized her by either arm and roughly dragged her up and over them, scraping and splintering her feet before bringing her to the stake. Once there, they cut her free only to almost wrench her shoulders out of joint to tie her arms again around and behind the stake. The rest of her body was quickly lashed and tied so tightly her bonds nearly kept her chest from expanding, from her feet all the way to her neck. The last length of rope was nearly choking, barely letting her breathe around it. She winced as she realized even if she could speak she'd barely be able to make a sound.

Her true fear, however, was on seeing the six shirts roughly thrown down into the wood and oil around her. She tensed and quivered on realizing she'd see them burn before her. She looked again to the sky. She wasn't facing the sun anymore, but it was definitely purple now and growing brighter. She couldn't yet see any light against the castle windows, though. What she did see was that all of the parapets and the front steps were lined with nobles. There were too many to be just from the court alone. Many of them had to be the remaining visiting nobles. She struggled to see any sign of Samuel among them but she could see nothing. Her eyes were still too weak.

In far too little time, she was lashed and the men stepped away. Now she was surrounded with nothing but hateful and fearful stares and the braziers. The wind wafted the scent of oil into her nostrils and her feet throbbed from the scraping. She shuddered a little in the breeze cutting through her sackcloth. She felt practically naked in it, exposed and vulnerable. She looked again for Samuel, but also for Laura. She could make out neither. She couldn't even make out who was on the surrounding walls, and she had to struggle to turn her head to even see them.

She didn't waste her strength on that. She struggled to keep her head toward the sky, scanning it as best as she could. There wasn't a single bird in it, or anywhere around the courtyard with all of the people present. She blinked, struggling to clear her eyes…

A man stepped forward on the main parapet. She looked toward him, and in her slowly clearing vision she made out the vague outline of an old man; the king's herald by his shape. She saw he had a scroll in his hands, the same that was reserved for pronouncing sentence. She swallowed. Dawn hadn't broken yet.

The crowd went quiet enough for her to hear the unrolling of the scroll.

"Costanza, Queen of Beneserta," he proclaimed loudly, "you have been found guilty of filicide, regicide, cannibalism, witchcraft, and treason. You have been declared a daughter of darkness, and as punishment for your sins, you are hereby sentenced to be burned at the stake. As you are unable to confess your sins verbally, you may now choose to bow your head and admit your guilt before this gathering and God above, and contrition will be performed on your behalf."

Costanza didn't move. She had enough space to bow her head, at least, but she would not admit to sins she had not committed. The thought entered her mind to possibly do so for a delay…but she would not. She trusted her husband.

"So be it," the herald proclaimed after a time. The scroll began to be rolled up. Costanza's heart began to race. Was that it? Was it over? Would she be burned now? Had Samuel failed?

Before any more fearful possibilities could arise, however, the herald sighed loudly.

"By direct order of the king…your execution will not take place at dawn but only once the sun has fully entered the sky."

A weight briefly fell off of Costanza's chest and she sighed heavily. Samuel succeeded. Only a little, but enough to spare her life for as long as she needed, which was just a few minutes more. Just long enough for sunrise. Once it did, the seven years would be at an end. Just a precious little while longer…

Swallowing over the clenching rope around her throat, she ignored the murmuring of the crowd and looked back to the sky. It continued to turn lighter, but there were still no signs of any birds; swans or otherwise. She searched it for two precious minutes, but by the third, with the sky growing lighter all the time, she felt her heart begin to beat more rapidly. Dawn had to nearly be here. She remembered seven years ago taking up her vow on the break of dawn on the first day. As soon as day broke, the time would be over. The shirts were complete. So where were they?

As time continued to tick by and it grew lighter yet, she began to grow afraid. What if they didn't come right away? Did they even need to wear the shirts for the curse to be broken? Worse yet…what if she had failed? Did the shirts need to be fully complete? Did the use of beeswax nullify it?

What if she had indeed spoken or laughed to herself in that time? Whether in a dream or while bathing or even thinking of it? Did her screams from the other day ruin it?

What if they had been killed? What if a hunter had shot them and cooked them up as a dish months ago? Even years?

Worse yet…what if it had all been a lie? Had she only dreamed seeing her brother speaking to her? Had this whole thing indeed been a fantasy?

She nearly gasped when the top window of the castle reflected just the slightest ray of light. The sun was crossing the horizon. In no more than two minutes it would be fully ascended, and no sign of any swans. She was alone. Alone and exposed and about to die.

Speak! A voice inside her cried. Dawn has come! You did your seven years! Tell them everything while you can!

She swallowed another lump, trembling in her bonds. She wanted to now more badly than ever. And yet, she couldn't. What if she was off on the time? By a few minutes or hours? If she spoke now, what if she ruined everything? She had to keep quiet…quiet until she knew it was broken…but where were they?

As her heart pounded so hard she could almost feel it against her bonds, she looked up again, desperately searching for Samuel; needing some support in all of this. She could see no one there, no matter how hard she looked. In desperation, she looked to the walls and…

She froze.

One of the watchmen was standing there. By now, she recognized all of them by their faces and demeanors. This one in particular was always as gruff as an old bulldog. Never smiled, never lit up, and always seemed to growl at her. Right now, however, he was smiling from ear to ear. He seemed to practically glow with cheer, his eyes wide-open. And vividly colored.

His spear-wielding arm was very close to one of the braziers on the wall, just along the edge…and over her pyre.

Still smiling, his hand "slipped" and knocked his spear into it.

"Clumsy me," he said in a voice only Costanza was near enough to hear, before the brazier sailed down along the wall and dumped its hot, burning coals onto the edge of the pyre.

Costanza nearly screamed as her face painted with horror. The coals had scarcely landed when they immediately caught the oil on fire. It spread like water immediately, lashing out on both sides of the wood pile. A wave of heat slammed into her from the rapidly kindled blaze, and in just a few moments it began to hungrily devour the kindling before spreading onto the logs. The flames to one side soon surged around and behind her, enveloping half of the pyre in fresh flames. Heat that started off warm but quickly grew to a burning sensation radiated from behind her. If not for the very stake that would serve for her doom acting as a break, she would have already caught aflame.

The flames nearest the shirts hadn't been so quick to catch, but she gazed forward in terror none the less as the fires enclosed her on both sides. She saw them all grow dim from the growing flames about her. The shirts were made of nothing but flowers and wax. They'd catch in an instant as soon as the flames grew hot enough and close enough it would be over.

Knowing her death was now imminent, she couldn't think of the crowds, Laura, Samuel, or even her own life anymore. With the last tears she had in her body, he began to weep again as the fires closed in on her garments. For nothing. It had all been for nothing.

Freely sobbing, she turned her eyes to the heavens, the heat already making it harder to breathe. She looked to the sky and opened her mouth, ready to use her last breath to confess everything…

Before a word could come out, a giant bird flew directly over her line of sight.

She aborted herself with a gasp, looking down, and felt further rushes of wind over her as six great swans quickly flew over her and descended into the courtyard. None of the birds landed gracefully. They nearly crashed themselves into the dirt right before the pyre. As the crowd gasped in astonishment on seeing not only swans but six of them and flying right toward a fire, the birds quickly got up and rushed toward the flames and the shirts. Each one lashed out with their bill and grasped one at the hem and yanked them back and off of the flames. Two of them were nearly consumed, with one beginning to smolder around one sleeve, but they were all yanked free as the fire fully encircled Costanza.

She scarcely noticed the feeling of burning growing on her legs. Her eyes were past the fires and watching the birds. As soon as the shirts were free, they quickly shoved their heads in through the hem and, like tunneling worms, shoved them all the way through the neckline. They forced their great wings in through them as well and, as impossible as it seemed, managed to shove the tips just through the sleeves. The movement was so quick it was as if they had been practicing…or waiting seven years for this moment. In an instant, all six had them on.

The moment the last of them finished getting into their shirts, each of them craned their heads to the sky and began to cry out in a noise so loud and unnatural no swan had ever made it. Instantly they all rolled around and flung themselves on their backs. Their wings began to flap erratically and writhe, their black legs kick about, and the horrendous noise continued to come from them. But as it did, and as the heat began to sting Costanza's vision so much she could no longer see, she saw they were leaving white feathers in their wake. They were shedding them…

"Costanza!"

Through the growing flames and the pain starting to override her senses, she heard a familiar voice. Samuel…

A shadow suddenly burst through the fire and was at her side in an instant. Smoke and steam began to rise from it immediately as she felt a wet hand covered in wet clothing seizing her arms. She couldn't see through the heat and smoke that well, but she felt the edges of cold steel behind her as it rapidly sawed away at the ropes that held her. Whatever blade was used was razor sharp, and soon it sliced free. Frantically, it began to cut away at the rest. It only got halfway through before it tore raggedly at the rest of her ropes. She couldn't even stand by then, but the body let her fall on top of him and she was practically slung over one shoulder. A moment later, to the sounds of pain and grunting from the flames singing him as well, her savior charged back and leapt over the pyre the opposite way.

A loud clamor arose as he banged his legs against flaming logs, and with another pained cry he stumbled and fell to the ground carrying her with him. Both landed and went for a painful tumble soon after…but clear of the flames. Her savior threw her as hard as he could on landing, throwing her further away, and then scrambling the rest of the way himself. It was fortunate for her, for she had no strength left to pull herself from the fire. She sprawled on the ground and lay there, her eyes now aimed toward the swans. Behind her, the crowd was beginning to exclaim. Most were gasping and some were now screaming.

By now, the birds were completely bald, and they were swelling and bulging from the inside as if air was being billowed into them. Their legs were crackling and twisting as they inflated out and extended. More of their wings were forced through the sleeves as they became fleshy appendages, and crackling sounds were coming from the necks as the vertebrae fused together and shrank. Their heads were swelling around their bills, dwarfing them, pushing them out, and twisting them. Nubs began to grow out as they kept making ghastly noises before revealing themselves to be teeth forming.

As they kept gyrating on the ground, gradually slowing, the last traces of black color turned the same as their thin flesh, which broadened out and thickened. Their feet crackled, twisted, and warped to arrange all of their digits together before flesh grew thicker over them and fused them together. At the same time, the tips of their exposed wings crunched and split into five separate digits on each arm, as the elongated limbs collapsed shorter. Their fat bodies broadened, enlarged, and flattened as their nether regions grew out from their bodies and began to protrude from their pelvi. The edges of their bills grew over them completely and encapsulated them into their heads before their nostrils flared and stuck out. Their small black eyes gained white portions and swiveled in front of their heads.

As the flesh enlarged around the sides of their heads to form pinna, their cries began to distort further into something more mammalian. By now, shrieking cries of satanic work and abominations, almost everyone in the courtyards had broken into screams and turned to flee. Even those on the parapet and the guards posted on the walls ran in terror, pressing against the stairs and entrances. Only a handful, and many of them frozen in shock, continued to watch. As the now-empty pyre blazed higher, the legs and arms of the former swans were now those of boys and men. The scars of the feathers faded and hair grew in their wake. The features of the skull reshaped like wet clay until the likeness of humans was left.

The crying of pain went from being unnatural or animal to being small human whimpers, desperate pants and gasps of relief as the agony of transformation was over. Exhausted and sweating, the six former swans flatted on the ground, clad only in the floral shirts, and heaved as they struggled to catch their breath.

Costanza struggled to push herself up as she saw them, but she had no more left in her. She could only stare at them and wonder if she was still dreaming. In seven long years she had never forgotten their faces. They looked just as they did then. None of them had aged a day. She had gone from a middle sibling to the eldest of them now. Giuseppe and Giovanni were still boys. Tito still had all of his muscle. Eugeno still looked at a loss without his glasses. Salvatore was still the first to force his breath down and struggle to compose himself. And Ruggero…even in the midst of his fading agony he forced his head around so he could look Costanza right in the eye. Through his own weary look, he quivered and beamed at her..

"You did it. You really did it…"

The cold feeling in her heart was warmed out of existence at that smile. No traces of white or shimmering like in her dream. It was just as she had remembered it from her youth. When she saw him looking at her again, she realized this was no illusion or fantasy. They were all really here. They were all restored.

She wanted so badly to cry for joy, but there was nothing left in her. It was over. It was all finally over. They were back. The feelings of happiness were too much for her in her state. She felt she would faint and she didn't know if she'd awake again.

As her eyes closed and oblivion started to descend upon her, however, she felt stronger arms grasp her. Soon she was plucked from the ground and brought to her feet. The world spun around, but the arms supported her and held her. She nearly swooned, but her senses hung on and she blinked and managed to see again. When they cleared, Samuel was face-to-face with her.

He was totally at a loss for words. His lips hung open in disbelief, unable to even know where to begin. "Costanza…I…I don't…how…"

Though it took her more strength than she liked, she forced her hand up and touched it to his cheek, quieting him. She swallowed once.

"Sam…u…el…"

The king gaped. Her voice was so out of practice Costanza no longer recognized the sound, especially since she had gone from a girl to a woman in those seven years. However, the words had been distinct, and there was no mistaking what she had said.

He recovered and began to smile for joy as well. "You can speak again, can't you?"

She swallowed, slaking her dry throat, while smiling and nodding.

He looked down to the young men in the shirts. They were recovering enough to slowly sit up now. The two boys looked to one another and, in spite of their own pain, were beginning to laugh out loud at seeing their human state restored. Ruggero had already leaned back and begun to laugh too, and Tito was joining in much more loudly.

"They are…"

"My brothers…" Costanza managed to speak again, although it still hurt to do so. "They…they were…"

It was still hard to talk, but Samuel looked back and answered for her. "That was why you had to make those shirts, wasn't it? That's why you couldn't talk."

Swallowing again, she nodded. "I…wanted…to tell you…for so-"

"Oh, Costanza, Costanza, Costanza…"

All of Costanza's happiness melted away as she nearly went dead in Samuel's grip. He noticed her change immediately as well as the voice that had sounded it. He turned and saw she wasn't alone. The two boys nearly screamed and quickly scrambled away on the ground as fast as they could. The other four young men whipped about in an instant, but even the eldest and the strongest didn't do so entirely out of boldness but partially out of fear.

The courtyard was practically abandoned save for a few tense guards and citizens too afraid to come any nearer, but there was one among them who had stepped right out to them.

Laura, her dress and appearance so vivid it seemed like a spectral nightmare in the land of the waking world, was standing there. Her eyes seemed like a pair of glowing, oily pools as they mirrored the fire and looked right at her.

"You just had to make this difficult, didn't you?" she sighed tiredly. "Couldn't just quietly burn to ash, could you?"

Samuel tightened his jaw at her. "What the devil do you think you're-"

Costanza clutched his lapel as best as she could. "Her…"

He turned back to her, seeing her gripping him and gazing fearfully into his eyes. "What are you-"

"She did it… She killed my father… Cursed my brothers… Ate our son… She's…evil…"

Samuel stared at her a moment longer, but rapidly a change came over him. Rather than be disheartened by her fearful warnings, his own face turned livid. His jaw clenched tighter with swelling anger. Although Costanza clutched at him desperately and began to shake her head, he quickly lowered her down to the ground, setting her against it as gently as he could, before snapping up and facing her completely.

"No…no…!" she cried in a hoarse whisper.

The king produced what he had used to free her from the still-burning pyre, a well-sharpened shortsword he had seized from one of the coats of arms. He pointed it right at the devil woman's heart.

"You godless, wicked, despicable thing…"

Laura completely ignored him, still focused on Costanza. "Now I'm just going to have to tear away everything left of what you love right in front of you, right now. What shall I start with? Your brothers or your husband?"

The fact she was threatening Costanza only stoked Samuel with further anger. "I'm not going to wait for another pyre to be erected for you. I'll cut your black, rotten heart out!"

He charged right for her, bracing the sword hilt with both hands with the intent of plunging it right into her chest. She did finally look to him at that, although her face was just as tired-looking and unamused as before. While his eyes blazed with hate and vengeance, her own eyes burned with only irritation.

While he was still a ways off, a sound of bones knocking bones lashed out, before she snapped one of her arms out to him. In an instant, it grew monstrously long and thin, like a twisted branch of an old tree, and the fingers suddenly exploded out from three joints to twenty on digits eighteen inches long. They lashed out around the blade of his sword, twisting around it like vines and clenching it without even breaking the skin. They tightened with such strength and ferocity that Samuel was stopped as if he had just driven his sword into a stone wall. They clenched tighter afterward, and with a loud snap the blade was broken into six pieces in her grip.

Samuel's anger gave way to shock, and no sooner had he frozen than the other arm of Laura lashed out, growing as twisted, ugly, and monstrous as the first. It wrapped around his neck and tightened like five separate nooses, instantly crushing his windpipe and his blood vessels. The shocked king gaped, finding he couldn't breathe, and frantically clutched for the inhuman fingers as his eyes widened in shock. As for Laura, her lips peeled back.

To everyone's horror who was still watching, the skin of her gums and palate peeled back, letting the bone of her skull enlarge and protrude from her mouth. It widened hideously, letting a long, rope-like tongue spill from it. She kept opening it until, with a pair of clicks, monstrous viper-like fangs the size of saber teeth popped out from within. Both oozed drops of black fluid which burned the ground as they dripped upon it, and she brought him closer, meaning to plunge the teeth into the first fleshy spot she could find.

"Let him go!"

She whirled to Ruggero as soon as he called out. In spite of the fact he was armed with nothing but his bare hands, he was forcing himself to scramble to his feet and charge at her. Yet her vivid eyes looked to the shirt he was wearing…and on laying eyes upon a horrible grating sound came from her throat. Her lips seemed to peel back further as her fangs collapsed back into her head. She loosened her grip and shrank back as he neared…

Suddenly, she snapped her arm around and flung Samuel violently at Ruggero. He collided with such force he knocked him to the ground, and she used the moment to try and dart away. However, Salvatore, Tito, and even Eugeno had risen and tried to follow Ruggero's lead by surrounding her, and the only free way to go was back toward the pyre. As the three young men rushed in on her, she was soon cornered near it. Her jaw retracted into her face but her eyes darted frantically between the shirts they wore as if she was a cornered wildcat facing firebrands.

In a snap, she reached one of her elongated limbs out to the pyre and seized one of the half-burnt logs from it.

"No…!" Constanza started to cry.

As the young men ran at her, she snapped her arm up, hoisting the log like a club, and struck it alongside Tito's head. With a loud smack, he was knocked aside and cast to the ground. She moved quickly, instantly snapping around and smacking Salvatore aside next before he even knew what had happened, and Eugeno froze in mid-charge only to leave himself open to the last blow.

Ruggero had been stunned by having Samuel thrown into him, but he wasn't out. After shifting him to one side he began to rise again, seeing what had happened and holding his distance. Laura didn't give him any time to strategize, though. Seeing him up, she snapped her arm out and threw the log at his head. Thankfully it wasn't hard enough to crack his skull but it was still flung too fast for him to dodge. With another loud thunk, he was knocked to the ground with the others.

All that was left now were the twins, and while she avoided looking at their shirts the same as the others they cringed in terror of her. Costanza stared at her fallen brothers, gasping and shaking, wondering how badly they had been hurt, and to Samuel, who had been choked so violently that the blood flow had cut off to his head and caused him to pass out; before looking back at Laura. She had spun back to her and was advancing again. She weakly tried to crawl backward, but she couldn't even move one arm before stumbling. A moment later, the bony, jointed fingers of the woman seized her with one hand; so long that they wrapped around her entire chest.

With a snap, she was yanked off of the ground and right into Laura's face. Her eyes were ovoid again and glistening like oil in sunlight. She smelled bile and something acrid on her breath as it wafted over her.

"They can't wear those weeds forever, Costanza. I changed them once…I'll change them again. It might take me a week, or a month, or a year, but it will happen. This time I won't be so merciful as to make them swans. I think maggots would suit them better, don't you?"

The fingers began to contort around her like her previous bonds. She hadn't the strength to even clutch them. She was helpless and she knew it…and so did Laura. She could do nothing but stare into her abnormal eyes as they shifted about in her sockets. Her voice seemed to gurgle like liquid as she grinned wider than humanly possible.

"There's no way I can hide from this now, but so be it. It was fun while it lasted. Now I'll just have to wait for the next unwed man to come along. But first, I'm going to make sure you never have to suffer seven years for nothing again. And I'll start with that husband of yours."

Costanza winced as Laura's fingernails dug into her so sharp they came just short of breaking the skin.

"I won't deal with him like your old servant, oh no. I won't have an entire clutch of snakes eat him out from the inside. No, I think I'll do the same thing I did to that peasant's infant I found and shoved into your room the other night. I'll twist his head off right in front of you before I tear him into little bloody pieces and eat each and every bite."

As pale as she turned at the mention of that, her eyes also widened.

Laura's twisted mouth turned up more. "Oh, you didn't know? That wasn't your son in your bedroom. Couldn't tear him up without him crying. No, I had him taken out of the house, and by now his little pudgy belly is split open like an old rind from the snakes I had shoved down his gullet. I'm guessing the crows decided to leave you be because they were out feasting on what was left of him."

Costanza's breath caught in her throat. She was too emptied to sob or cry out now, but she almost gagged as her eyes burned. She nearly withered in Laura's grip. The woman's tongue lashed out and licked her own stretched lips as she savored every pang from fear and horror that was driven into her heart.

"But I'm getting distracted. I think it's time you felt the joy of being molded like clay yourself. So after I'm done with your faithful husband, I'm going to mold you into a mouse." Her jaw began to protrude again, twisting her voice. "Something small, delicate, and easy to manage. Then I'm going to swallow you whole so you can feel just how agonizing it will be to get dissolved alive in the walls of my stomach."

Costanza was white as a sheet. In spite of her weakness, she feebly tried to struggle, but it was no good. Laura let her. She wanted her to struggle. Wanted her to try and fail. Wanted her to be miserable as she could see there was no hope or help for her now. Her teeth and jawbones seemed to form the same mocking grin as they slid out.

Then, over the sounds of the roaring pyre behind her, and the sounds of bone stretching and horrible fluid bubbling from down Laura's throat, an older woman's voice called from behind the devil creature.

"Costanza…I stole your child and left your room unlocked for her! It was me!"

The young woman was so petrified with terror at this point her wits barely managed to grab what had been said, but Laura's own jaw concealed itself again as she snapped around behind her.

What happened in the next few moments almost seemed to be drawn out to Costanza. No sooner had Laura spun about when she revealed what was behind her. Standing at a distance was one of the queen mother's maids. In her arms was some simple cloth, holding, from the position of her arms, a baby. She hardly had time to look at that, for her eyes drifted immediately to what was right behind her.

Eleonora, dressed in simple clothes, her own eyes blazing, and her face tight yet determined from what she had just cried, was standing there holding her crucifix and its necklace out between her arms like a chain.

The instant Laura laid eyes on it, the ovoid pupils began to pulsate and shift like they were liquid shook in a jar. Her bony fingers loosened and Costanza was dropped to the ground. She cracked her jaw open wide to make another cry…

Yet Eleonora moved in a flash. In an instant, she was on the evil thing and had flung the crucifix around her neck.

It was like Laura had just been laden with a red hot chain. In fact, in her exhaustion, anguish, and horror, Costanza could have sworn she heard the sounds of flesh searing and the smell of burning pitch and sulfur. Laura's horrendous bony arms cringed inward and her hideous elongated fingers thrashed like branches in a thunderstorm. Her inhuman pupils managed to focus on what was about her neck as she cried out in a noise that came from no creature Costanza had ever heard in her life. The tips feebly tried to grasp for the crucifix, but it was useless. Any time they got near they curled away like paper held to a flame. As she cried out louder and wilder, she staggered backward, as if she could somehow shrink from it.

Not paying attention to where she went, the back of her heels smacked right into Costanza's own outstretched legs from her fallen body. She began to stumble…

Eleonora seized it. Crying out with all the rage of an angry mother seeing her child in distress, she flung herself at Laura and pushed both of her arms against her. Charging forward and shoving, she drove the evil thing backward all the way to the pyre before forcing her right off of her feet and right on top of the roaring flames. The impact with which she landed was so strong that a pile of burning logs immediately were jostled on top of her.

Laura had never stopped crying out once, but now thrashed and lashed out. Her arms flung about so wildly that Eleonora had to recoil as the now-enflamed limbs swung dangerously near her. The rest of her sank beneath the coals and embers, but still her hideous voice came forth. The pain should have been enough to make her leap out in fury, but the crucifix about her neck held her down like a millstone had been chained to her body. Only her grotesque limbs were able to thrash out entirely in vain.

Finally, the cries began to die down and then faded. The hideous fingers and bony arms curled in on themselves like the limbs of an enormous spider. The flames continued to blast them as they went rigid and still. Costanza kept watching as they stopped, but as the pyre continued to burn them, with dried snaps the fingers began to break off bit by bit and crumble into the fire. No more movement followed when they did. She was gone.

Only then did Costanza feel herself begin to breathe again. She clutched her chest and inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying not to swoon from the entire ordeal. As empty and hollow as she felt a moment earlier, she felt less than empty now. The nightmare that had started over seven years ago was finally over.

She was so fixated on the fire that she didn't see those behind her. Samuel, no longer caught in Laura's deathly clutches, slowly came to once again, and while he was sluggish about it he managed to lift his head and push himself up from the dirt. As soon as he spotted Costanza, he quickly forced himself to move and half-walked, half-staggered over to her. As soon as he was at her side, he fell again to his knees and wrapped his arms around her. Closing her eyes, she let herself fully fall against his chest. She continued to breathe long and deep and lay there in his arms. Sniffling himself, he held her for a moment before shifting his head enough to kiss her on her temple. He did so one more time before, supporting her with all of his own strength, he started to get her to her feet.

She didn't have any power of her own to stand, but with Samuel keeping his arms around her and leaning on him for support, she managed to rise. He turned her away from the fires and back to her family. An instant later, Giovanni and Giuseppe ran up to her and put their arms around her from either side. Her other brothers, while nursing bruises and a bit of a blood from the hard blows, managed to rise again one after another. As soon as they could stand again they came forward together and all joined in the embrace, until she was fully being supported by all seven boys and men.

Her head resting against the crook of Samuel's neck, she rested at last and breathed softly. In spite of being empty, she managed two more tears. She could have stood there forever, simply enjoying the feeling of her husband and restored brothers embracing her. The years of melancholy, toil, depression, and fear were very slowly melting away. The sensation of true happiness, so long lost to her, was slowly filling her heart.

She felt her brothers part from her. On doing so, she opened her eyes and saw that the maid had come forward. She was rather nervous to be so close to the young men, but she nevertheless held out the baby in her arms to them.

Both Costanza and Samuel looked over him and saw who it was…and both nearly gasped. Costanza felt so dizzy she would have finally lost her senses if not for Samuel, but he himself might have fallen if not for her brothers nearby. There was no question about it; it was Silvio. The infant, totally oblivious to all that had transpired, merely turned to look up at the faces of his mother and father and lit up for joy. Costanza remembered what Laura had said to her, but this was no illusion or deception. It was truly her son.

She wanted so badly to hold him now but she could barely lift her arms even a moment. Samuel was too busy supporting her. After a few seconds, Ruggero, swallowing a little himself, advanced and held out his arms. The maid nearly recoiled from him, but, whether out of anxiety or tentative trust, handed the baby over to him. Once that was done, he cradled him and carefully moved around before holding him right up to Costanza in between them, giving her the same sensation of him being close to her.

She could still smile if nothing else. And now her breathing shook as her face showed nothing but exhausted joy. Not since she had given birth to him had she looked so tired and yet so happy to see him.

All too soon, however, Ruggero stepped back again, this time looking out. The rest of her brothers did the same and she looked up.

Standing before her was Eleonora. Her proud head was turned down, and her eyes were on the dirt. She stood there silently for several seconds. Slowly, she dropped to her knees, before leaning over, placing her hands on the ground, and bowing her head to her.

"I'm sorry, Costanza." Her voice was quiet, trembling…penitent. "I'm sorry for everything. I persecuted you without cause. I cursed and slandered you without reason. I mocked your nobility and devotion. I poisoned the hearts of others against your innocence. And I aligned myself with a demon to be rid of you. I was a fool. All of the curses I hurled at you belong rightly on my own head. For what I did I deserve to die. I should be burning on that pyre along with that abomination."

The gathering was silent. Even Samuel didn't move or say anything. Costanza, rested enough to at least raise her head, did enough to look back at him. His face was stony. He showed no hate, but no warmth either. She had hurt him badly by her actions. The fact that she had intended to give him his son back and had intervened just now didn't change that she lied to his face and would have had his wife put to death in spite of her innocence if Laura hadn't revealed herself.

Noticing Costanza was staring at him, he looked down at her.

She said nothing, but after a year of only being able to understand her by her silence, he could tell what she wanted now. He hesitated but complied after a time. Bracing her body, he slowly lowered her to the ground until she was crouching in front of Eleonora.

The young woman reached out and placed her hands on the older woman's shoulders. She remained bowed. Costanza swallowed to moisten her throat.

"Rise out of the dirt…mother."

Eleonora's head raised in a snap. As soon as she revealed her face, it showed her own face was now streaked with tears; ones she had hidden by shoving it against the ground. Yet now that she was up again, her noble look was gone and replaced by surprise. She gaped at Costanza, and at her mild and gentle response to her.

The young woman looked a bit hesitant, but managed to slowly give her a warm smile. One that didn't bear either animosity or a desire for vengeance.

Eleonora began to quiver. Her eyes shimmered and more tears ran forth. She cupped her hands to her mouth while her lips started to tremble, unable to look away from the wonderful daughter-in-law she had esteemed at so poor a value. Nevertheless, her own sobs started to leak through her lips.

Finally, she came forward, wrapped her arms around Costanza, and hugged her tightly. "My daughter…" she choked before giving way to weeping.

Costanza smiled a bit more at that, and, still unable to hug back, simply put her own head down on the older woman's shoulders. It wasn't her husband's own touch, but it was warmer and more comforting than she ever imagined it would be. Although she didn't see it, Samuel stared on without changing for a while, but finally formed a weak smile of his own.

For several minutes there was nothing but the sound of the crackling embers. The sun slowly continued to rise as what few people were still in the courtyard began to ease. A few brave others made their way back to windows and entrances and saw the new and expanded royal family below.

Finally, Ruggero crouched next to Samuel and Costanza again, still holding onto their child. She finally parted from Eleonora then, and both she and Samuel looked at him. He smiled somewhat awkwardly.

"I believe…a lot of explanation is in order."

The End

FINAL NOTES: A lot of versions of this story end with one of the sleeves of the shirts either not being finished or being torn off, and, as a result, one of the brothers has a swan's wing for an arm. I figured there was no point to that even if this story does contain horror elements, so I left it out.

I also changed the ending quite a bit from most versions. Both the Germanic Fairy Tale and the Japanese Fairy Tale have the archetype of the "Wicked Stepmother". In the Grimms' fairy tales, she always ends up getting punished for her acts of cruelty against the protagonist, but...I noticed for the Japanese archetype, on getting her crimes exposed, she becomes penitent and ends up reconciling with the protagonist. I decided to incorporate that into this story rather than have yet another Wicked Stepmother meet her end.

I ended this one a bit abruptly and somewhat ambiguously, but I kind of prefer it that way. I'll leave it to the reader to decide what happened next.

I was going to pace out the rest of the chapters, but...sigh...my stats reveal there are only three people reading this story, so I might as well just give them the whole thing. This settles one theory of mine, however. Splitting my stories into smaller chapters doesn't make them any more appealing to a reader. I'll just stick with making them one-shots from now on.