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Red Like Wine

Chapter 33

It took Corene a moment to realize she had been standing at the window in the corridor for far too long. But a black bird . . . . a black bird flew over the moon. And there was something very . . . wrong about it. It wasn't as if black birds weren't common in Wychowl. In fact, the royal artisan had crafted many statues and paintings that featured black birds because the things were so common around Wychowl - especially near the chapel, where old bitches whiled away the afternoons feeding them crumbs. But for some reason, Corene took especial notice of the one that passed over the moon that night, and she found herself stopping. And staring. Perhaps for ten minutes after the creature had gone. A few of the mastiffs on patrol in the hall expressed concern, but she crossly sent them off. Everyone had been treating her like an addled pup since her return, and she started to wonder what sort of report Captain Carnell had sent the queen. She thought of the ball and how she stripped herself to her knickers and stomped out, and she had to ask herself if it was really surprising that everyone thought she'd gone round the bend.

Well, no matter. It would be over tonight. After seeing Flavia and the way the slave wept and clung to her, Corene had decided: she was running away. Because she looked at Flavia and realized the slave was the last thing she had on this earth, and if she really loved her, she would protect her friend from Donica, from Etienne's fox imposture, from the world! Besides, the fox would never pass as Etienne. They were as good as dead the moment anyone discovered the truth. No, let the vixen stay here and play her games. By sundown the next day, Corene would be halfway to Krodor. Or maybe she'd go even farther than that! Maybe she'd go to the desert kingdoms, where the greyhounds were always warring. Perhaps she could sell herself and Flavia as wives to some kindly old dog and live happily buried in the midst of exotic candies and music . .

Corene paused outside the double doors of Donica's bed chamber, waiting for the roaring lion's face to split when the guards opened the doors. But the guards didn't open the doors. Corene stared at them.

"Her majesty is --" began the one of the left.

"Her _majesty_commanded that I should report to her the moment I returned from Howlester," Corene cut across him.

The guards glanced uncertainly at each other, but they lowered their eyes and opened the doors.

"You don't want to go in there," hissed Candy Cane, who stood as ever just behind Corene's shoulder.

Corene stiffened. "I said shut up!" she snapped at the apparition.

The guards went rigid and stared into the distance. "Yes, your highness!"

Candy Cane sniggered.

"Oh, not you!" Corene cried. Ignoring the baffled looks of the guards, she jerked her chin and sauntered into the queen's bed chamber. The doors closed behind her, and she halted in the shadowy room and glanced around. It was the middle of the night, and she knew Donica would probably be nothing short of furious that she was being disturbed, despite the fact that Corene was just following the queen's orders. Corene stepped toward the bed, half-expecting for Donica to be caught in the midst of passion, perhaps riding her slave Primus. But Primus was no where to be seen - odd. And Donica was wide awake, sitting up on the pillows, a wineglass in her paw - not odd.

Corene halted at the foot of the immense bed and her throat tightened. Donica sat in a red nightgown, one of the straps of which had fallen over her naked shoulder. Her red mane was tumbling loose around her shoulders, lines were under her eyes, and the sheets were rumpled from recent lovemaking. She smiled slowly, her fangs cutting the corners of her mocking grin. Corene looked at her and felt a chill. Donica was up to something.

"Do you know I nevvvver loved you?" Donica slurred.

Corene said nothing. Drunken witch.

"Oh, I did love you," Donica went on, looking at her wineglass as she swirled the red wine at the bottom. "I loved you the way . . . the way a child loves a goldfish. But what do you do with a goldfish once it's useless? Or was it ever useful? I think that's the point."

"Is there a point?" Corene mocked coldly. Say what you want, you evil whore. Flavia is packing my things even now.

Donica smiled, slowly, like a shark. She pointed at the desk. "Over there . . . on the desk . . . is my letter opener. And an unopened letter. Do be a darling and bring them to me." She dragged her eyes from Corene and took a deep sip from her glass.

Corene went stiffly to the desk. Her eyes found the letter opener immediately - the handle was carved in the shape of a roaring lion's head. The unopened letter was beside it, but her eyes caught yet another letter - this one freshly written, the ink still drying. It was a letter to Donica's brother, the King of Curith. Corene pretended not to have found the unopened letter and pretended to look for it, her eyes discreetly scanning the letter the queen had written to her brother.

"Tisk, tisk, tisk," sang Candy Cane behind Corene. "Looky what we've here. The queen killed your parents . . . wanted for years to kill you . . . and now she's packing you off to her brother."

Corene closed her eyes and hissed, "Go away!" A tear escaped from her eye and she bowed her head. She leaned on her arms and they trembled as Candy Cane hissed in her ear, "She killed your parents. What are you going to do? Cry like the little bitch you are - or make it right!"

"G-Go away - p-please!" Corene sobbed.

"You're gonna wind up a shell of yourself," the spirit whispered behind her. "Just like me. You'll let the queen witch kill you, and then they'll be tellin' stories of the ghost of Wychowl. The lovely ghost of Wychowl - haunting the royal bedchamber!"

"I said go away!" Corene growled. Her fist closed on the letter opener and she spun with wide eyes, holding the letter opener before her like a sword. But Candy Cane was gone. Instead, Donica stood before her, swaying slightly, drink in paw.

Donica's lip curled. "Oh . . . get out of my way," she snarled and shoved Corene aside with a sluggish paw.

Corene staggered back and watched with dull eyes as the queen searched the desk for the letter. Donica was so drunk, she could barely stand. She fumbled to set the wineglass down, then snatched the letter from the desk and pried it open with her nails. "Ah," she said with dark triumph, "it's a letter from Hellene, as I suspected. She's drawing closer to the capital as we speak. You see, my dear, she is going to replace you - she will be queen of Vari --" Donica fell silent when she felt the tip of the letter opener against her side. She licked her lips and went very still. She could feel Corene's arm, trembling with rage, as it held the tip of the razor-sharp object against the thin fabric of her gown.

"What are you going to do with that, you little nothing?" Donica said quietly.

Corene's lips shook as the tears spilled hot over them. She gave a trembling laugh. "H-Ha! The queen of Varimore, famed mistress of swordplay, killed by a measly nothing wielding a measly letter opener."

"You don't have the spine, darling." Donica's voice was sharp and mocking and it carried the underlining emotional manipulation that Corene was now mature enough to recognize: you can't do it, you won't do it because I will hurt you, you aren't strong enough, you aren't good enough, you will never be me.

Corene's arm trembled as the voices grew louder: You can't. You won't. You are weak. You are nothing. YOU ARE PATHETIC. ETIENNE WILL NEVER LOVE YOU. I SHOULD HAVE LEFT YOU AT THAT FUNERAL.

Donica at her parents' funeral. Donica drunk and slurring. Donica in her black dress. Falling down. Spilling red wine. Red wine like blood.

"So what are you waiting for?" Donica whispered.

It took Corene a moment to realize Candy Cane had spoken the same words. At the same time. She was standing behind Corene, hissing in her ear.

"You can't do it," Donica said with a laugh. Her back was still to Corene, and the glass of red wine was on the desk, near her paw. "You can't do it because you are a pathetic whining crying cowering bit --"

Corene took a halting step and sank the letter opener in Donica's side, neatly and precisely, just between her ribs. She knew she'd punctured a lung when Donica gasped and blood slipped down her chin, so dark it was practically black. She staggered over and her paw slapped the wineglass from the desk, slapping red wine in turn across the carpet.

Corene took a step back and just stood, the letter opener in her paw, her eyes hollow and flat as she watched Donica on the floor, choking and clawing her way across the carpet. The queen managed to drag herself around the desk, leaving a line of dark blood in her wake. Corene calmly followed, the letter opener still in her grasp. Donica reached her paw, and it was just inches from the door. She was sputtering a word. "P-Puh . . . Pri . . ." Corene smiled. She was calling for Primus. But the pitcher was gone: Primus had gone for more wine.

"Pri . . ." Donica choked. Tears were in her eyes. Her flexing fingers were very near the door, almost touching it. She had but to scratch and perhaps the guards would poke their heads in and arrest Corene in horror. "Prim-mus . . ." Donica managed at last. Her nail almost touched the door, but Corene stepped on her tail, stopping her.

Donica collapsed in defeat to the carpet, eyes wide and blank as she struggled feebly and vainly against the darkness that curled at the edge of her vision.

And Corene stood. And watched her choke on her own blood.