Page 1 of A Castle of Broken Memories

1

Once upon a time, there was a girl who believed that all she needed in life was a man. And not just any man. Oh no. There was only room for one in her naive, little heart. A young man with golden hair and a blinding smile, who'd charmed his way from childhood playmate to enamored suitor. Fool that she was, she’d eaten it up, giving herself over body and soul. Knowing that theirs was a love that would span the ages.

Gods, I'd been an idiot back then.

“Mariana, come on. It's your turn.” Gretchen poked my side with her toe, cheeks rosy from wine as she grinned at me. Her golden hair fell loose down the back of her simple, white nightgown, and her green eyes sparkled with open merriment. If I hadn’t been present for the coronation myself, I never would have pegged her for a queen. Then again, nothing about the Black Forest was like the outside world, where elected politicians had long since displaced royalty in every manner that wasn’t strictly ceremonial. A world that had little idea we even existed apart from the occasional bedtime story.

“Shit, let's see...” I glanced around the room, searching for inspiration. Gretchen and I were spending the night in Rapunzel’s (Or Raz, as I preferred to call her) tower, the walls of which were covered in brightly painted murals—visions from Raz's dreams. There'd been a time not long ago when the paintings had been grotesque, but now they were a soothing array of spring flowers, vegetable shoots, and newly born fawns. “Never have I ever... eaten lettuce from Granhilda's garden.”

Raz rolled her unseeing eyes. “Lame,” she protested, taking a drink.

“Yeah, Mariana,” Gretchen chimed in. “I would have thought you of all people could come up with something spicier than that.”

“The game is called Never Have I Ever,” I pointed out. “When you've already done everything under the sun, there's not much left to choose from.”

“All I heard was blah blah blah, lame excuse,” Raz slurred, making Gretchen snort-laugh into her wine.

I shook my head. “You two are drunk.”

“Um, yeah.” Gretchen raised her glass, red liquid sloshing precariously close to the rim as she wiggled it in the air. “It's girls night. That's the point. Now hit us with the spice already.”

“Fine. You want to hear something spicy I haven't done?” I arched a brow, and she and Raz grinned. “Never have I ever… had sex with the goblin king.”

Well. That shut them up. Although the look of guilt on Raz's face as she took the tiniest of sips reinforced what I already knew about myself—I wasn’t cut out for female friends. My edges were still too sharp, despite the efforts I’d taken these past two years to smooth them.

Gretchen, however, leaned over and clinked her glass with Raz's before taking a large gulp from her own. “Here's to impeccable taste in lovers,” she crowed. Then, in a softer voice, “And don't worry—I was already aware that you and Redcap had a history.”

“You're not mad that I've slept with your husband?” Raz asked, surprise chasing the guilt from her expression.

“I mean, assuming it was before I met him...”

“It was,” Raz assured her.

“Then yeah. We're cool.” Gretchen wrapped an arm around Raz and pulled her in for a hug. It was all terribly sweet, and I was more than happy to be on the outside of it. Not that I didn’t love them—it was hard not to, when they’d been so forgiving of my past antics, so eager to fold me into their lives. I wasn’t proud of the way I’d acted all those years, stirring up trouble wherever I went. Hurting the people I cared about. And while I could blame some of it on my friend Tenebris’s curse influencing me to act on my darker desires—thank the gods that’d been taken care of—in truth, I’d been spiraling long before our two paths crossed. I’d been an impending train wreck since the day Jack left me at the altar, and I hated what I’d let his actions do to me.

“I don't know about you guys, but I'm done in.” Faking a yawn, I grabbed a blanket from the pile and made a place for myself on the pallet Raz had prepared in front of the tower room’s fireplace. “Feel free to go on without me,” I murmured, rolling onto my side.

A shuffling of feet and clinking glasses preceded two warm bodies lying down on either side of me as both women settled onto the pallet. “Nice try,” Gretchen whispered. “But you’re stuck with us whether you like it or not.”

“That's right,” Raz added. “It wouldn't be the same without you.”

I pulled my blanket higher to hide my warming cheeks. “Whatever.”

Gretchen chuckled knowingly. “Goodnight, Mariana.”

I smiled beneath the blanket. “Night.”

I woke with a start sometime later, the logs in the fire having long since dwindled to embers. At first I thought it was Gretchen who'd woken me up—the woman snored, and it wasn't the soft, barely-there mewing of an adorable kitten but a full-on sawing of logs kind of sound. But then I realized the right side of the pallet was empty, and I sat up to find Raz furiously painting swirls of green across the far wall. Splatters of paint marked her brown face and dotted her long, black hair, but she didn't slow her pace while she stretched and dipped, her long turquoise nightgown swishing about her legs as she worked over the stone as if obsessed. I dragged myself free of the blankets and tiptoed over for a closer look.

My stomach dropped.

A stream of moonlight lit the wall, illuminating a spiraling, green stalk that reached up to the sky, the tip disappearing amid a cluster of thick storm clouds. A figure in a hooded, red cloak clung to the front, with two others barely peeking out on the opposite side.

“What… why are you drawing this?” I whispered, unable to tear my gaze from the familiar red cloak—an exact replica of the one currently lying on the floor beside the pallet. It was obvious she was painting me, but why she’d have a vision of me climbing the Mondue beanstalk was far harder to grasp. I hadn’t stepped foot in the southern vampire village since leaving it ten years ago. And the beanstalk? After all the times Jack and I had fantasized about climbing it together in our youth, just the thought of it left a sour taste in my mouth. Even now, with a decade’s worth of life dulling the memories’ bittersweet lines. Abuela would say it was because I lacked closure, but let’s be honest—beneath the time-hardened surface I’d so carefully curated, I was nothing but a hot, wolf-y mess.

Raz turned, her normally milky brown eyes glowing pure white. “Hush. You’ll disturb the giants.”

“The giants,” I repeated, heart pounding as I stared at the half-finished mural. There hadn’t been a giant in the forest in well over fifty years, not since Abuela was a child. According to her, the giants who lived in the Sky Castle had once had regular dealings with the forest dwellers—the massive beanstalk providing the only route of passage between us—but that was before the strange, never-ending storm took residence in the clouds beneath their home. It’d created an impenetrable barrier, killing anyone who tried to navigate it. The very attempt had since been banned by the Mondue council, for obvious safety reasons. “Raz, did you see this in your dream tonight?”