The Sleeping Beauty - Book 1 - Chapter 50
The Emerald City started its life five thousand years ago, as a simple castle—Hypnos’s castle.
Fairy tales are real.
Rose Briar is a diabetic college student without insurance. She’s been scraping by through a combination of maxing out credit cards and relying upon the kindness of strangers.
Unfortunately, she’s spent every dollar at her disposal. There’s no money left to buy her life-saving insulin.
Without her medication, Rose falls into a diabetic coma. She tumbles into a deep slumber and wakes up in a fantastical place called the Dream Realm, where fairy tales and legends of old are still very much alive.
She has one chance to wake up.
She must trek across the world, visit the most powerful object in the land, the Obsidian Spindle, and entreat with the fates; the only beings powerful enough to send her soul back to Earth.
But evil forces don’t want her to leave. They will stop at nothing to capture her and make sure she never goes home again.
Now, with the help of her half-gorgon girlfriend and a mysterious red rider, Rose must race across the land fighting dragons, monsters, and the forces of the Wicked Witch, Nimue, in order to reach the Obsidian Spindle before her body dies on Earth and she’s trapped in the Dream Realm forever.
Will she be able to wake up? Can she survive? Find out by reading The Sleeping Beauty today. If you love mythology, fairy tales, and dark fantasy, then you’ll love the first book in The Obsidian Spindle Saga.
Paid subscribers can access the entire archive of this series from the beginning, along with other series and every article I’ve ever written. If you aren’t a paid subscriber, you can access the archive for free with a 7-day trial.
The Emerald City started its life five thousand years ago, as a simple castle—Hypnos’s castle. It was the first thing that existed in Urgu, after the land itself, and the Obsidian Spindle, which predated Hypnos’s rule by millions of years. The Fates had spent their days weaving threads since the dawn of time. They even spun the fates of the immortal gods.
That was what made them so powerful. The Dream Realm was a dangerous place to imprison displaced gods, but Zeus and Osiris trusted the Fates, and gave them the power to decide with whom they granted an audience. Hypnos quickly earned their trust and became a confidant. He understood the significance of the Fates, and that they needed absolute autonomy to do their work.
He filled the sea around the Spindle with unspeakable monsters to prevent anyone from travelling there, and he placed the entrance to the only bridge in his throne room. Only he or his chosen ruler had access. Those that wanted to parlay with the Fates without his blessing would have to brave the dangers within the Cursed Sea.
I chose the sea when I made my sojourn to the Spindle. There was a narrow strait where the distance between the Urgu main continent and the Spindle’s island was at its smallest. I rowed out, certain that I would be eaten alive by the Kraken or dragged down into the depths by the mermaids.
I wasn’t, though. I made it across and climbed the sheer rock face to the top of the Spindle. There, the Fates granted me an audience. I did not think I was worthy enough to see them, but they saw something in me. My bravery, maybe; my foolhardy bravery.
I begged them to send me back to Earth, but they told me that my body had died some months ago. There was no place there for me. I could not return to another body, and the Fates could not bring my body back from the dead. I was stuck in Urgu until I turned to dust. They allowed me another wish, but I had no other wish aside from returning to my life.
And so, I asked them to make me useful. They turned me into the Red Rider. Everything I have done since then was not of my own control, but divine intervention. I do not feel agency for my actions but a compulsion to protect my queen and to save the realm. I felt a sense of duty deep in the depth of my hollow soul, as if something beyond my control pulled me against my will to perform some task or another, always putting me in the right place at the right time.
That was how I knew that I was doing the right thing. Dragging Rose and Chelle across the rocks and past the cadre of guards patrolling Oz’s wall made me feel useful. Soon, Ozma would see the prophesy was real, and thank me for my service. That would also make me useful. Eventually, she would be back on the throne, and we would have a rightful heir. That would make me useful.
It took another half a day of hiking to reach the border of Oz. The walls of the Emerald City were higher than when Hypnos built them a million years ago, and now they were far more splendid. The glass walls protecting Oz Emerald City glistened in the sun like perfectly polished gems. That was by design. No army could look on the Emerald City and not go blind, Ozma once told me. It protected them from every invasion. Except a coup from within, of course.
“How much further?” Rose asked as we climbed a rock embankment.
“We’re almost there,” I replied. “We have to be careful to avoid detection. If anyone sees us climbing around the back of Oz, they’ll hang us for sure.”
Above me, the great bridge that connected the throne room to the Obsidian Spindle loomed large. Embedded in its smooth face, a million opals sparkled in a thousand different colors in the light of day. In the distance, across the Cursed Sea, the Obsidian Spindle rose like a gnarled and burnt willow trunk.
Below the Spindle and the bridge, the Cursed Sea called out, beckoning travelers into its murky deep. Past the Spindle was the edge of the world. Nothing existed beyond its walls, except the invisible barrier which kept us from Earth, and inside the Spindle laid the only way back to Earth.
I pulled Rose up the jagged glass wall that protected the Emerald City from invasion, and then did the same for Chelle. The glass was difficult to climb and left cuts everywhere, but it prevented an invasion from the rear and allowed for only a skeleton force to protect Oz from the seaward side.
Protecting that seaward side of Oz was the lowest job a soldier could have in the queen’s army. The combination of lack of skill and dearth of overall numbers made it easy to navigate the back of Oz by foot without being detected.
Most people entered the great city from the front. Some people, however, knew about the underground network of secret passageways which connected the Emerald City to the rest of the world. Nobody used them. Created by Hypnos, he told his chosen about them. Ozma knew them all, but Nimue was oblivious.
When Ozma left the Green Palace, her first hiding place was under the city, right in the shadow of the Wicked Witch. She stayed there for thirty nights to gather those loyal to her. Not many came down to join her. Many of those loyal to Ozma had been slaughtered, and of those who remained, most didn’t care who was in charge, as long as they could keep power.
“Up ahead,” I whispered to the others. I eyed Balor, who scuttled ahead closer to the walls to act as a lookout. He waved us forward, and I scampered forward with the others.
“Where is this place?” Chelle asked.
“There is a crypt under Oz for the first kings of Hypnos. It holds the ashes of those fallen before Ozma’s reign. It was once hundreds of miles outside the castle. However, as the castle grew, the city abutted it, but the catacombs have remained a secret.”
“How do you know she’s here?” Rose asked. “How can the stars in a church tell you how to find the queen?”
“Each star in that temple we visited is the location of a secret base of Ozma. Everyone in Ozma’s charge must memorize it. The star on Hypnos’s forehead is this crypt, because it is at the seat of his power, and a secret from those who wish the crown harm. She often comes back here, even against the advice from her council, to be near the throne, and her home.”
I caught up with Balor and together we ran to the glass wall that surrounded Oz. Along the ground were a series of craggy black rocks. Placing my hand on the ground, I traced my finger along the dirt until I found a groove in a large, black rock. I brushed off the sand and sure enough, there was the symbol of Oz. A sleeping moon hidden behind a cloud, made from the letters O and Z. I pressed my palm on the symbol and it gave way. Beneath me, the ground rumbled, and I dove out of the way as it opened below me, revealing a passageway.
“Come on.”
I pulled a pink dream out of my money purse. Dreams did not give off much light, but they worked in a pinch. The light pink hue bounced off the walls. I watched the others descend into the ground, and then the chasm closed behind them.
“This is spooky,” Rose said.
“Ignium,” Chelle whispered and her hand lit up with a small flame. “Better?”
“Much.”
We reached the bottom of a stairwell that opened up into a large room lined with small boxes. The boxes had gathered dust in the centuries since they were placed here, but inside each were the ashes of a great king of Oz. On each wall was a burning torch, and in the middle was a young woman with golden hair, dressed in green, wearing a crown of tree bark, with eyes as blue as ice.
“Ozma,” I said, dropping to my knees.
“Gabrielle,” Ozma replied. “Welcome home.”
Fairy tales are real.
Find out by reading The Sleeping Beauty today. If you love mythology, fairy tales, and dark fantasy, then you’ll love the first book in The Obsidian Spindle Saga.
Paid subscribers can access the entire archive of this series from the beginning, along with other series and every article I’ve ever written. If you aren’t a paid subscriber, you can access the archive for free with a 7-day trial.