Page 15 of Apples Dipped in Gold

Then he turned, tail swaying, and vanished into the dark between the stones. I stood there, staring, wondering what world I might find if I followed him.

Something cold touched my arm. When I looked, I saw snow melting on my skin. I lifted the lantern as icy crystals fell across the moor. The sound was silvery, beautiful like the laughter of the fae. It made me want to linger, and I did until the ground was covered with a thin layer of white I might have stayed there forever, under the spell of this magic until the blood froze in my veins, but a voice in the back of my mind was louder.

“Come away, Samara,” it said. “There is nothing for you here but death.”

I did not know who spoke, if it was my consciousness or the voice that called to me in my dreams, but it drew me away from the moor toward home.

The cottage was quiet and dark, save for the kitchen where the light from the hearth ignited the window, warm and welcoming. Anyone who passed would think it a quaint refuge from the cold, but it had been a long time since I’d felt safe beneath its roof. Instead of going inside to sleep, I made my way to the barn and rolled open the door, closing it quickly behind me.

When I turned, I found Rooster lying on a bed of hay. Mouse was curled up beside him sleeping. Rooster lifted his head and made a quiet, breathy sound as I approached.

I smiled and set the lantern down away from the hay.

“Hello, sweetling,” I said, offering my hand, which he nuzzled before I caressed the space between his eyes, which fell closed. “It is good to see you. How was your day?”

He looked at me and then snorted as if to sayhow do you think?

“I know,” I said. “My brothers are not the easiest to get along with.”

Rooster blew out a harsh breath.

“I will take you from them someday,” I said, pulling away. I sat beside Mouse and hauled her into my lap. She woke briefly, to meow and yawn, and then curled into a ball to sleep again as I rested my back against Rooster’s flank.

This was the safest I had felt in a long while, thoughI could not escape the guilt, knowing what tomorrow would bring. At dawn, the prince would arrive, and I would leave Rooster and Mouse behind. My stomach churned. I should have asked for more from the prince, but that decision likely would have proven fatal for my two friends. I did not doubt my brothers’ ability to kill the two creatures I loved most in the world as retribution for my newfound freedom.

It would be safer to come for them after I left—if I left at all.

There was still a part of me that doubted Henry’s return.

“Rooster, I have to tell you something,” I said. “A prince has offered for my hand. He says he will come soon to collect me, not a moment before sunrise. I do not want to leave you—”

Rooster interrupted, making a sound deep in his throat and throwing his head back.

“I know it is a chance at a different life,” I said. I did not want to say abetterlife, because I did not truly know that. “But I will never forgive myself if they harm you while I am away.”

Rooster’s neigh was quiet and deep, as if to saydo not worry about me, but I would until I saw him again. I could not help feeling I was abandoning them to the cruelty of my brothers.

“I will ask the prince to send for you as soon as I am able,” I promised.

He nuzzled my hair, and my eyes grew heavy, surrounded by their warmth. Finally, I fell into a deep sleep, unhindered by the haunting voice that had lulled me into slumber the last seven years.

* * *

I was roused by Mouse, who rubbed her head against my hand, purring loudly.

“What is it?” I asked, still half-asleep.

Rooster neighed deeply, and I had no choice but to get to my feet as he rolled to rise. I rubbed my eyes and realized why they were so alert—someone was coming. I could hear the rhythmic clop of hooves, and suddenly, my heart was pounding. I went to the door and pushed it open. It was still dark, but a faint orange light burned on the horizon. It reached far enough to glint off an approaching golden carriage pulled by four black horses.

My prince had come.

I watched as the coachman made a wide circle and came to a stop before my small, ruined cottage, now covered in fresh snow. Two footmen stepped down from the back, each dressed in regally cut coats the color of midnight and trimmed in glinting gold. One opened the door while the other pulled down a set of gilded steps, and then the prince emerged, dressed far more finely than he had been the day before. His surcoat glittered as the morning sun sliced across the yard, and his cloak was lined with fur as white as the snow on the ground. His eyes gleamed when he saw me, and he reached for my hand.

“Samara,” he said, pressing his lips to my knuckles.

I could not help it. The corners of my lips lifted.

“Prince,” I breathed.

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