#SpookyShowcase: The Blade of Briars by Cait Greer
Welcome to the 9th annual #SpookyShowcase, a Halloween artist and author showcase. A full schedule of submissions can be found here so you don’t miss a single entry for THESE DEADLY CURSES. Now, on to today’s submission!
The Blade of Briars by Cait Greer
“You don’t need a sword.”
“I absolutely need a sword! Every good gay needs a sword!” Kensy ran her hand over the top of the glass display case, wishing it was actually the sword inside. “I mean, just look at it!”
Alex sighed, knowing where this was going. “I am. It’s gorgeous, okay? Which also means it’s going to cost an arm and a leg. Which also means you can’t afford it.”
Kensy whined, and Alex rolled her eyes fondly.
“But it’s just so pretty! And you know how much I love sharp stabby things!”
Alex huffed. “Oh, I do. But what would you even do with it?”
“Take pictures with it? Cosplay?” Kensy shrugged. “It’s pretty. And stabby. Do I really need another reason to want it?”
Laughing, Alex shook her head. “To want it? Absolutely not. But you probably ought to have better reasons to actually buy it. Reasons that aren’t ‘I’m gay so I need a sword.’ Especially if it’s as expensive as it looks.”
Kensy boosted up on her tiptoes to look around. “I can at least ask…”
“Sure, babe.”
Frowning at the emptiness of the shop, Kensy spun. “If I can even find someone, anyway. Why is it when you want to look around unhindered, you’re drowning in people asking if you need help, but the minute you do actually need help, there’s never anyone to be found?”
“Can I help you?”
“Fuck!”
Kensy whipped around, hand clapping over her mouth too late to stop the startled expletive from escaping. Alex cackled, which earned her a glare from her girlfriend before Kensy turned back to the older woman who had popped up seemingly out of nowhere. She was taller than Kensy by most of a head, her shorter, greying hair pulled back at the temples, and she wore an expression of wry amusement.
“Uh, yeah…” Kensy swallowed, shaking her head. “Sorry. I just wanted to ask about the sword.” She gestured behind her at the display case.
The woman’s eyes sharpened. “Ah. The Blade of Briars.”
Alex grunted. “That’s a fantastic name. And now you know you definitely can’t afford it, Kens. Come on, before you bankrupt yourself.”
The shopkeeper eyed them both, a thoughtful look on her face. “You might be surprised, actually.”
Alex glanced at her girlfriend, who had turned back to stare longingly at the sword in its display case. She could see just how much Kensy wanted it, and she begrudgingly acknowledged to herself as she turned back to the older woman that somehow, they’d be going home with it. “What do you mean?”
“Well. It was donated with specific terms.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed. “What terms?”
The corners of the woman’s mouth twitched, as though she was trying not to smile. Normally, Alex found that sexy. She certainly did when Kensy did it. But in this case, on this strange saleswoman or shopkeeper—whoever she was, as she hadn’t introduced herself, wasn’t wearing a tag, had just appeared as if summoned—Alex found it all a little creepy.
“Nothing bad. Just that it should go to the right person. Regardless of price.”
Alex’s eyebrow arched and she knew her skepticism was plainly written on her face. “And how are you supposed to know who the ‘right’ person is?”
This time the woman couldn’t—or didn’t bother to—hide her smile. “Pieces like this, they find their owners. It’s just something you get used to in this business.”
Riiiiiiight.
“Alex, this thing has serious Utena Tenjou vibes! I love it so much.”
The woman smiled fully, letting the corners of her mouth slide up slowly, and Alex decided it was definitely creepy. “I think your girlfriend is definitely the right person to appreciate this piece.”
Kensy squealed quietly, and Alex took a deep breath. “Okay. Fine.” She had such a hard time saying no to Kensy’s excitement. “How much?”
The woman walked over to the display case and unlocked it. “Ten dollars.”
Alex laughed. “Yeah, right. I’m no expert, but even I can see it’s worth way more.”
The woman shrugged. “I told you there were terms. For the wrong person, it would always cost more than they can afford. For the right person, the right price.”
Something deep in Alex begged her to grab Kensy and run for the door, but her girlfriend was already handing over a ten-dollar bill and reaching into the display case. And then Kensy was gripping the sword in its filigreed scabbard with both hands, a look of utter glee lighting up her face, and Alex found herself smiling despite the nagging weirdness of the entire situation.
“Come on, Prince Tenjou. Let’s get you and your new sword home.”
Alex noticed it a few nights later. Kensy missing from bed. The eerie feeling that was so foreign to their tiny apartment. But then Kensy reappeared, crawling back into bed and mumbling nonsense like she always did when she was two-thirds asleep, and Alex shook it off and went back to sleep, comforted by the warmth of Kensy’s arms and the sound of the wind in the leaves.
She noticed it next when Kensy was out, gone for a few hours at a mandatory work meeting she’d been (rightfully) whining about for a week. The feeling of being watched, the uneasiness that arose every time she passed by the sword her girlfriend had insisted on mounting on the living room wall. Her skin crawled like the rose vines etched across the scabbard and sculpted into the hilt and guard. It truly was a beautiful sword (“It’s a rapier,” Kensy had insisted), but it both unsettled Alex and drew her in. She wasn’t actually sure how long she ended up staring at it, lost in thorny vines and blood-red roses, before Kensy came sweeping in the door in a rustle of leaves and laughter.
But it wasn’t until a few nights later that she understood. She’d woken slowly from a dream of thorns and briars, green that was so deep and dark, and red that was blood and curses. Kensy was missing again, her side of the bed cold and empty. Alex sucked in a breath, the scent of roses strong in her nose. It was almost overwhelming, clinging to the back of her throat, filling her senses. She stumbled out of bed, feet automatically carrying her to the living room through the midnight darkness. There, backlit by moonlight streaming in from the patio door, stood Kensy, sword in hand, vines twisting from the hilt up her arm, roses blossoming across her chest and back. Unsheathed, the blade shone in the moonlight, bright as ice and starlight. And Kensy… Kensy looked strong. Powerful. Covered in thorns and roses, eyes black as night, she looked otherworldly. Inhuman in a way that was so beautiful it hurt.
Alex had always been drawn to her. Kensy had captivated her from the moment they met, with her easy smiles and pure heart. But in that moment, her draw to Kensy seemed inevitable in a way she’d never felt before. As though the briars and the buds wound not just from the sword to Kensy, but from Kensy into her own heart. Inescapable, undeniable, and Alex had no desire resist.
It wasn’t until the vines wrapped around her hand, the one she’d unconsciously reached out to Kensy, that Alex began to understand. Kensy shuddered at her touch, Alex gasping as the briars grew between them and around them. And in the moonlit rose garden of their living room came a severe and quiet laugh.
“I didn’t expect my briars would net me two champions. This pleases me.”
Kensy, still so oddly silent, dropped to one knee, despite the winding vines, bearing the sword before her like a knight bowing before their liege. Alex turned slowly, careful not to disturb the thorns that bound them. She saw nothing in the moonlight, or the shadows, but she felt the voice’s owner like a weight in the darkness. “Champions?”
The voice, feminine and sensuous, hummed. “Indeed. My realm ever has need of them, as this realm never ceases its encroachment.”
“The sword,” Alex whispered.
“The briars know my needs, and the needs of my realm. You feel them, don’t you?”
Alex nodded to the darkness.
“How strange. The last mortal I met who felt things as you, did me a great disservice. I’ve learned much since Janet stole my knight Tam Lin from me. Learned how to ensnare the lover with the knight, instead of losing both.”
Alex looked at the rose briars molded tight to her flesh, and knew. “Queen of the Fae.”
The queen laughed. “I didn’t think your kind believed in mine any longer. Nevertheless, you and your knight are mine, by briar bound.”
“It’s cursed, isn’t it. The sword.”
She could almost hear the smile. “Cursed. Blessed. It’s all about perspective, I suppose. Words are subjective, and your language often fails to capture the meaning of things outside this realm. Now, come. The night is long, and we have far to go before we reach my Court.”
Alex looked to Kensy, and both answered in unison.
“Yes, my Queen.”
The sun rose the next day on an empty apartment, and a single thorny rose.
About the Creator
Cait Greer is an author, artist, and graphic designer. Her work primarily features and promotes queer stories in speculative settings. She is a gamer, a certified (and possibly certifiable) geek, and has taught more things than she cares to think about anymore. She currently lives in northern Florida and works full time as a freelance artist and designer.
Twitter: @cait_greer
Instagram: @cait_greer
Tumblr: @catfirebrand
Website: https://www.authorcaitlingreer.com/