Under the Same Stars by Libba Bray(27)

“Your king has forsaken you!” Aldred thundered to all who would listen. “He is a traitor! Would you live as peasants and cowards? Would you not reclaim what is rightfully yours? Follow me and you shall reap the rewards!”

Some laughed at Aldred: “He is nothing but a madman!” But others liked what he had to say. In them, his words took root, poisoning hearts. Aldred raised a secret army. On a night so dark that the stars hid their shine, Aldred and his army stole into the castle. They slew the king and his children and the whole of the family, except for Prince Alexander, of course, who was far away and did not know of these evil deeds.

Aldred crowned himself king and his reign of terror began. From that day forward, a shadow sat upon the kingdom. Neighbor turned against neighbor, friend against friend. Those brave enough to speak against him were arrested and put to death. The citizens of Almany lived in fear, for King Aldred ruled with an iron fist. He demanded loyalty above all. The court fell under his terrible sway. Even the animals flattered the new king and praised his cruelty.

The rooster strutted before the king. “Your Majesty, if you demanded it of me, I would slay my own family,” he crowed.

But the king was not so sure. For roosters are arrogant and unreliable. “Someday, you shall be put to the test, Rooster.”

“I, too, pledge my troth to Your Majesty,” said a fox with a red-gold coat soft as velvet.

“We shall see,” the king replied. For the fox, beautiful and vain, was loyal mostly to herself, he knew.

“What about me?” squeaked the field mouse, nose twitching nervously for a hint of ill wind. “I want to be important to the king!”

“You? You’re nothing but a mouse,” laughed the rooster.

“Go away!” snarled the fox.

“Hush,” said the king. For there was more pressing business at hand.

A prophecy had been discovered in the kingdom, woven into cloth by an expert hand. It whispered that the mad king possessed a fatal flaw. He could be defeated if the people banded together against his power. For the first time, the frightened people began to have hope. And hope King Aldred would not abide.

He called his best hunter to him. “You must find these traitors! Bring them to the castle!”

“As you command, my liege.”

It did not take the hunter long to discover the source—the prophecy had come from the loom of two poor weavers, sisters named Saga and Freya, who lived in a simple thatched cottage at the edge of the great forest. The hunter gathered a loyal retinue and set off for their cottage.

A sympathetic barn owl alerted the sisters to the danger. “Who-who-who comes for you? You-who-who must hi-hi-hide!”

“What shall we do, dear sister?” asked Freya.

Saga placed a hand on Freya’s shoulder. “We must escape into the forest. We must beg for shelter from the old oak.”

The two sisters grabbed their basket of stitching and ran into the forest, where they fell to their knees before the great tree. “Help us!” they cried.

The oak took pity on the brave sisters. “I will give you shelter,” it groaned from deep within, in a voice that had not been used in quite some time. “But my power has been forgotten for so long, I fear it will not work.”

“What can we do to help?”

“You must tell me your secrets. You must remind me that I am not alone. Remind me of the good.”

And so they did. The sisters whispered into the hollow of the tree. Their secrets nestled deep into its aged heart. At once, magic crackled through its body, a sound like something new being born. Silky tendrils burst from the seams of its limbs. The pale bark took on color and life. For now it knew that it was not alone. It could have wept for the comfort of this. In the forest, the sisters could hear the hunter approaching. Calling out to his soldiers.

“Oh, please hurry!” the sisters begged.

“I shall transform you into animals of the forest to hide you,” the tree whispered.

“Then I should like to be a hare, nimble and quick,” Freya replied.

“I should like to be a deer, majestic and proud,” Saga said.

“Oh, do not do that, sweet sister!” Freya cried. “For the deer is not so quick as the hare who can run and hide.”

“Yes, sister, but the deer has a nimble mind and can outsmart her enemies,” Saga replied.

This went on for some time, as the sisters loved to argue almost as much as they loved each other.

“Enough,” said the wise old tree. “Choose.”

“I shall be a deer,” Saga said.

“And I shall be a hare,” Freya said.

“Then mote it be.” The oak honored its promise. In a flash of golden light, it transformed the sisters into a hare and a deer who scampered off into the cover of forest.

When the hunter entered the clearing and discovered it empty, he gnashed his teeth and threw his bow to the ground, so angry was he. The soldiers cowered, afraid of the hunter’s temper.

“I will not rest until these traitors are found,” the hunter vowed. “For one day, they shall make a mistake, and I will be waiting.”

Deep in the cover of the forest, the hare and the deer watched as the hunter and his soldiers left the forest empty-handed.

“Let him come,” said the hare to the deer. “We will be ready.”