Chapter 11 (Incomplete)

She's going to die high in the sky
She wants her place in the sun
She's too young to die

Too true to lie

She’ll find her place in the sun

- Place in the Sun, Chris Child

A beautiful woman stands at the edge of the pond. She wears a tattered gray cloak and has long, black hair that falls over her face and reaches her ankles. On her feet she wears no shoes and her skin is snow white, not a freckle or mark on her body. She looks incredibly forlorn, her body hunched over, her face somber. Intrigued by her mystique, I take a few steps closer to her; her whole body seems to radiate sadness and I suddenly feel cold and lonely. I shudder but continue to move closer to her under a mysterious spell.

“Cordelia…” I hear Carwyn’s soft voice but I don’t turn back to look at him. My eyes never leave the strangely striking woman.

“Cordelia.” His voice is tension filled and I hear it waver a bit. The woman turns toward us, noticing our presence for the first time. Her eyes linger on Carwyn for a second before they meet mine. They are dark gray, cold, and they bear into my skin. I quiver. It is as though she can see into my very soul.

“Cordelia!” Carwyn shouts, and I feel his hand grip my arm. “Don’t go near her! She’s a witch! She’s a bean sidhe!”

I finally tear my eyes away from the woman to look into Carwyn’s deep blue irises.

“I don’t think she’s going to hurt us.” I say quietly but firmly.

His intense gaze softens, and I know he trusts me. His hand finds mine, and he squeezes it.

Her neck stretches to the heavens, and suddenly an unearthly sound emits from her throat, a high, wailing song that is neither beautiful nor hideous sounding- only surreal. Nevertheless, my hand leaves Carwyn’s and we’re both covering our ears as the witch moans on.

Her eyes find mine again, and her song carries me past the forest and over the hills, into a gated area and through stone walls, into a decorative room and by a warm fire…

I feel an emotion I’ve never felt before as he wraps his arms around me, whispering in my ear. I giggle, playfully pushing him away.

“Stop it! You know I’m ticklish there!” I say, smiling at his dark, alluring eyes.

He smiles back, staring at my lips. So I lean over and kiss his, shivering as his fingers run up and down my back. I pull back and look at him, taking in his handsome features. His tousled, brown hair, his perfect, pointed nose, those soft, pink lips.

“I love you.” I whisper, kissing him one more time.

“Mmm.” He murmurs against my lips, abruptly standing up a moment later. Unexpectedly, I’m cold and alone, and even more so confused.

“I love you as well.” he says, and immediately I’m relieved. Now I’m merely curious as to what he might be doing. He paces back and forth at the foot of our bed, turning in the middle of his antics to go and fetch something from the drawer in the nightstand. I see something flash silver before he slips the object into his pocket.

He turns back to face me, and I look at him, baffled. “But… I don’t know if I can trust you.” He raises an eyebrow.

My heart sinks and I wonder why he doubts me. My mind begins to race. What could I have done wrong to make him doubt me? Was I acting insincere? “Of- of course you can trust me!” My voice is shaky as I give a rather feeble attempt to tell him the truth. He has to believe me. He must believe me! “Would I have married you if I didn’t genuinely love you?”

“Perhaps.” he shrugs, and my stomach lurches. How could he not trust me? I try so hard to be perfect for him, to be- “Perhaps it’s another one of those ridiculous schemes that you and your cousin have cooked up to have me killed.” I watch him approach me with anger in his eyes, an anger I have not once seen on his face except for when he was interrogating the kingdom, and anger that he has not once used on me.

“No, no! Not at all!” I protest in earnest. “I could never-”

“You’re a good liar, Belinda. And I’ve witnessed your lies first hand.”

“Nothing I said has been a lie! I love-”

“I suppose I will never know the truth, then.” he says lazily. I’ve never seen this man before. This is not the man that cared for me and protected me and loved me… I’m paralyzed as he steps inches away from me.

“What do you mean?” I ask softly, hesitating. I have an eerie feeling that I don’t know the answer. But he won’t harm me… he loves me. He-

I slowly look up into his eyes, and his lips meet mine. He forcefully wraps his arms around my waist, and I kiss him back with every ounce of passion I have in me. As if to show him I’m not lying, as if to prove what he means to me.

But in our kiss, I find he slips away from me. We’re disconnected.

Suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my back, and I break away from him, screaming. The ache is overwhelming, I can’t breathe, and I fall over on my side, gasping for air. I watch as he pulls back, a sharp, shiny object in his hand. And from what I can make out, it’s a knife drenched in…

Oh god… blood. That’s my blood. My vision gets foggy and I cry out “why?!” But I can’t tell if the words came out right or not. All I can tell now is pain, pain… pain.

“It’s a shame. You really were a gorgeous girl. But you know what they say- ‘Better safe than sorry.’”

And then it’s all gone.

“No!” I scream, feeling hot tears run down my face. I’m on the ground, writhing and yelling. “He killed her! He killed her!”

“Cor!” I hear another voice but I’m unsure if it’s my imagination or not. All I want to do is get rid of the blood and the pain and the