Page 75 of Bewitched

On the way there, she passed over the Goeften Forest, seeing Darium Blackseed’s little cottage down below. Talia was out front, looking up into the sky directly at them. Medea started thinking of the meals they’d shared there, as well as the hospitality. This was the first place she and Rapunzel went after they came through the portal. Part of her started to long for the friendship of Talia and the others. They were like friends to her, and that was something she never had back in England.

Remember, Rhys was going to kill you, came the dark thought in her head.

“Nay, that’s a lie,” she mumbled, but the dark voice of Hecuba within her was strong and convincing.

He only said that to steal the baby. Rhys needed a way out and you gave it to him, you fool. Of course he wants you dead. Then the baby will be all his.

Hearing this only managed to make her furious once again.

“Faster. Faster!” she commanded the dragon, kicking her heels into its sides. The dragon didn’t like it and turned its head and roared at her. The wind hit her hard in the face, blowing her hair around her.

“Get your damned hair out of my face, witch,” spat King Osric. “I can’t see a thing.”

She didn’t like the way he spoke to her, and did nothing to tie back her hair. When they got above Macada Castle, she saw everyone running around in chaos once again.

“There’s the King. He’s up on the battlements with his guards. Scorch him!” cried Osric in vengeance.

Medea had the dragon swoop in closer, controlling it by using her dark magic to make it go where she wanted it to. “Scorch them,” she commanded the dragon, feeling the darkness growing and taking control of her again. But just as the dragon was about to do her bidding, she noticed a little girl holding the hand of one of soldiers on the battlements. The child would be killed as well. This made her think of her daughter and how she would never want anything to happen to her. She turned the dragon just in time. Instead of the men being killed by the dragon’s fiery breath, it hit the back of a hay cart that went up in flames.

“Damn it, can’t you aim this beast?” shouted Osric. “Let me do it. I’ll control the stupid thing. You need to show it who is in charge.” The King stabbed the tip of his sword into the dragon’s wing. The dragon screeched and shrieked, rising up almost in a vertical position. The King dropped his sword and it fell down into the courtyard of Macada Castle. Then, he started to slip, grabbing on to Medea, and pulling her along with him.

“Nay!” Medea shouted, trying to shake him off, but he clung tightly and she couldn’t loosen his hold. “Take us back, dragon,” she commanded, holding tightly to the dragon’s leathery mane. She didn’t want to transport, because if she did, she would lose the dragon.

The dragon was in a frenzy now. Instead of flying back to Kasculbough, it took off over the Picajord Mountains.

“Help me,” cried the King, gripping on to Medea’s skirt. He bounced up and down against the dragon’s sharp scales every time the dragon turned. King Osric was poked and pierced by the spikes of the dragon’s tail as well. Blood oozed from his wounds. Then the dragon’s wings hit him in the face. His hand was slipping and he was about to fall off. If he fell, it would mean his death.

“Damn you, die then. I don’t care,” Medea ground out, meaning to let him fall. Then, she looked down and saw something that melted her heart of ice. They were directly above the Whispering Dale on the other side of the mountains. She could see the field of lippenbur lilies where she’d made love with Rhys and where her daughter had been conceived. The alluring scent of the flowers of the fae drifted up high into the sky filling her senses. She breathed it in, and almost cried. Part of her longed to be happy again, the way she was when she visited the Whispering Dale with Rhys.

“Pull me up,” shouted the King. “You can’t let me die.”

Her heart softened. Did she really want to see anyone die? She reached down and pulled the King back up onto the back of the dragon. And when she did, she looked down to see the colorful fae cottages and the enchanting arched bridges that went across the creek. There, on the bridge was Rapunzel, holding Medea’s baby. Alaina, Rhys’ mother, was with her. They looked up in the air, seeing her, making Medea feel so ashamed of her actions that she wanted to die.

“Medea, please don’t let the darkness claim you,” screamed Rapunzel. “Your baby needs you. Rhys needs you. So do I, Sister.”

Medea felt something wet on her cheek. When she reached over to touch it, she realized it was a tear. The dragon beneath her was wounded now, and would no longer listen to her commands. The King was wounded as well. The dragon flew rapidly back to the Quamm Caves where it had been making its lair. Right over the top of the caves, it bucked like mad, trying to get Medea off its back. With her heart opened now, her dark magic was losing its power.

She could no longer control the dragon, and neither could she continue to hold on to it for much longer. Reaching back, she grabbed on to the King’s arm just as they fell from the dragon and plummeted to the earth far below.

“Naaaaay!” screamed the King, as they headed for their death atop the sharp rocks of the caves. But just before they hit, Medea was able to tap into her powers of transporting. When they fell, they landed in the black waters of the moat of Kasculbough Castle instead.

Medea surfaced and so did the King, coughing and spitting out water.

“You wretched witch,” shouted King Osric. “How could you do this to me?”

By now, whatever sleeping potion Rhys’ family had used on King Osric’s men had worn off. The soldiers came running to their king’s rescue.

“I’m injured. Be careful you fools,” yelled the King. When his men pulled him out of the water, Medea could see his shredded clothes and the lacerations made by the scales of the dragon. His face was mangled and his body bruised. He was bleeding profusely and couldn’t even stand on his own.

Medea climbed out of the moat. Her white wedding dress had turned a shade of gray mixed with brown from all the dirt and smelly water. Her hair was matted down, and green scum from the water clung to her body.

“Take me to my solar,” said the King, barely able to speak since he was so weak. He had to be carried there because of his condition.

“My lady, are you all right?” Henriette was the only one to come to help Medea.

“I’m fine,” she answered, pulling a slimy strand of long hair away from her mouth.

“Let me help you get back to the tower. I have a hot bath prepared for you in your chamber since I thought you might like one when you returned.”