The Chalk Princess

By Peter R. Talley

Ivy and Drew have become lost in Avalon. The siblings soon learn their grandmother’s fairy tales hold truths far more sinister than expected. As they find themselves straying further from home, they realize the only way back to reality is by accepting the help of a mad pariah hidden within a snow globe. Can Ivy and Drew escape from the dangers of this magical world in time to save their family from a terrible curse?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peter R. Talley
• Release date: Apr 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463028629

Peter R. Talley

Peter Talley, at various times in his life, has worked as a high school speech team coach, newspaper advertiser, hospital emergency manager, investigator, and funeral home assistant. Born in Ohio, grew up in Iowa, and spent the majority of his time working in Nebraska. He currently resides in Hartington with his wife and son. Peter enjoys writing short fiction and is busy at work on a series of urban fantasy novels.

Book preview

The girl was down to her last match. Dirty fingers fumbled with the tiny item of hope. The candle by her side wobbled on the dresser. She had but a moment before the dimness of evening would change into full night.

The single flame pressed back the gloom. The warmth of the flame felt protective on the child’s face. Stillness was broken by the lighting of the solitary candle. Long shadows swayed about the room but were tamed by the dancing flicker of illumination.

All was not well. The girl’s heart trembled. She felt eyes upon her.

The reflection in the corner mirror—her reflection—although still, was somehow askew.

The girl looking back, the one on the other side of the mirror, was not her. It was a thing that stole her face. It was a replacement, a lie, that even convinced the girl’s parents to call it daughter.

How long had it been? She was losing count of the days. Had it truly been almost a week since she was first chased to the backwards bedroom inside the mirror?

The fake her twitched, causing the glassy-eyed reflection to move out of sync. The girl watched, kneeling as the thing broke eye contact. It jerked once more, stood upright, and then moved to sit on the girl’s bed.

I hate you, said the girl through the mirror to the real world.

The doorknob to the backwards bedroom turned.

Oh no, whispered the girl.

She could smell wet soil as she used her hand to cover her mouth. She was dirty from the long climb up to the house that looked like her home. Every day ended like this for the girl. She would awaken in a garden of vibrant color, spend the day lost in a dream of fragrance, only to be chased like a deer by some relentless hunter. Tired and frantic, she would find a place of familiarity, only to end up in a bedroom, at the top of the stairs, that looked like her bedroom but felt blanketed by shadows.

She knew that whoever—or whatever—wanted in. It always heard her, especially when she cried, as she watched Mom and Dad tuck a pretend girl into bed.

Let me in, princess, begged the voice from behind the door.

The girl refused to move. The words belonged to her father but the voice sounded mean.

The doorknob no longer turned.

Let me in, princess, said the creaky voice, once again.

The girl’s heart started to race. She feared what was going to happen next.

Oh where-oh-where did I place my key? asked the voice from behind the door.

She could hear jingling. The keys were always there. She then heard a sinister giggle.

Now which key is it? Will you make me try them all?

Her breathing quickened.

The voice behind the door would tease with a few wrong keys. The lock would rattle and there would be a brief silence. She knew it did this to scare her. It always ended the same. The door would open and she would be caught.

Tonight was different.

This time the girl sensed motion from within the room.

It was only from inside the mirror.

The fake girl on the other side of the mirror had shifted. It was crawling into her bed. The cold eyes never closed, even as it prepared to steal a good night’s sleep.

Let me in, princess, said the voice behind the door, Let me in, or I will not be happy.

The girl took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She then remembered her grandmother’s face. The girl forced herself to move.

Afraid but determined, she threw the weight of her body against the door.

I found the key, little one.

She could hear the scratching sound of metal on metal, as the skeleton key slid into the lock.

Her body pressed against the base of the door, desperate to hold it closed.

At that moment she heard a door open but felt no movement. Cautiously she opened her eyes to see that the backwards room was filling with the soft warmth of familiarity.

A door had opened. The bedroom door on the other side of the mirror let in the glow of the hallway. This new source of light was from home.

The fake girl pulled a blanket over its shoulder before quickly flipping over to face the wall.

I’m supposed to say goodnight to you, said the boy standing outside the doorway. It was her little brother.

The thing in her bed did not respond.

CHAPTER 2

It had been a long summer day. You know the kind—where day ends when the sunlight lingers between the branches, where the evening sky twirls in the mixed glow of colors before surrendering to slumbering night. The warmth of the air provided a canvas for the tableau of lightning bugs and cicadas. Summer is the birth of adventure and the death of childhood.

This is a story for and about siblings.

The two had been like many other brothers and sisters. One was younger. One was older.

Neither of them liked eating vegetables.

They loved their parents.

Holidays were for family time. Mom took lots of pictures.

The little brother loved Halloween. The older sister preferred Christmas. They both loved Independence Day.

One week out of every summer, the two children would be sent to visit their grandparents. It was a time for sweets and fireworks. The small town had a Fourth of July parade that they enjoyed from the front lawn. It was the perfect way to start off the week. Grandma and Grandpa sat on squeaky lawn chairs while the children waved and cheered at the marching bands and floats. If luck was kind, the children might even catch a piece of candy from someone who knew their family.

Later that night, Grandpa would help them with sparklers.

The entire week was full of love and laughter.

Grandpa would take them on hikes to look for rocks. He paid them a quarter each for every time they beat him at a game of marbles.

Grandma took them swimming at the lake and let them help her in the garden.

Still, neither of them liked eating their vegetables.

And before bed, Grandma would tuck them in with a story.

She would start each with the reminder, ‘Once upon a time’ and ‘happily ever after’ only come true with magick in your heart.

The stories were all fairy tales. Each was filled with the nonsense of knights, far-off castles, and princesses desirous of dancing. Every tale had a lesson to be learned.

Big sister memorized the words that Grandma spoke.

Little brother could never keep his eyes open long enough to hear the ending.

For nine years, the children heard of the mischievous and melancholy fey, who inhabited the fairy courts of Avalon. They were instructed on the differences between a Fairfolk commoner and Seelie royalty. Both were cautioned how to properly wish, without causing unwanted attention. They learned the difference between magick, spelled with and without a k.

All good things, however, must end. The children were given ten good visits.

Last year Grandma had a stroke.

The Censor always kept his word.

CHAPTER 3

Tomorrow was the first day of school. Drew Bertrand wasn’t ready to start the sixth grade. He still had plenty to do with his vacation. The eleven-year-old was set on spending the few remaining hours playing video games. His gamer tag, Strike Lightning, had been solidly locked in fourth place on the rankings board.

Ivy, unlike her little brother, was ready to begin the ninth grade. She longed for a change from the boredom. This last summer was so different. She and her brother stayed home. Being the older sibling meant she had more memories of visiting her grandparents.

Mom and Dad took the children on weekly visits to the Celadon Retirement and Rehabilitation Center. It was a sad place to spend Sunday morning. It was an even sadder place to spend every morning.

Grandma Bertrand sat alone in the activity room. The recent stroke robbed her sharp mind of the ability to speak. She would spend hours gazing listlessly at the various other tenants. She would listen to them talk of grandchildren, work on puzzles, and repeat the same stories over and over.

The family visits were not easy for the children. The pale green walls were a dreary reminder that this was more of a prison than a hospital. They would watch their parents’ frustration grow from each interaction with the nursing home’s staff. Nothing was ever done right enough for Grandma. Dad argued with unconcerned nurses. Mom held back tears while trying to find some sort of understanding. Her one-sided conversations with Grandma always seemed strange to the children.

It was during this last visit that Grandpa had pulled their parents aside to talk. The whispers of adults hide little. Children know more than they should. Grandma was never going to be able to return home. There would be no more Fourth of July visits. There would be no more stories.

Ivy, look, said Drew.

Grandma tilted her head to the side. Her upper lip faintly moved.

I think she’s trying to tell us something. Get Mom!

Nooo, slurred Grandma, stretching out the short little word.

What do you need? asked Ivy.

Goloble, This next word was garbled and more like a cough.

What, Grandma? asked Drew. I think we better get Mom.

Sno…wa.

Snow? Ivy looked back to her brother. Is she saying snow?

Glow, murmured Grandma Bertrand.

I don’t know. I don’t know what you are saying, said Ivy.

Globeosnow.

Snow globe! exclaimed Drew.

Ivy and Drew waited for an answer.

Snow. Globe. Grandma’s eyes widened. Her voice became excited. Snow. Globe!

Okay, said Ivy. Snow globe.

Grandma tried to smile.

What does that even mean? asked Drew.

Ivy shrugged. Her confusion was interrupted by a nurse.

What’s going on here?

Grandma is trying to speak, said Drew.

You kids need to quiet down and let her rest. Where are your parents?

Snow….

Shhh, Mrs. Bertrand. We are going to take you back to your room soon.

Let her talk, said Ivy.

Where are your parents?

Where is your boss? countered Drew.

The nurse sneered down at the boy.

Globe… whispered Grandma.

I think we’re going to start nap time early, said the nurse.

Grandmother lifted her wrist and pointed to Ivy.

You saw that, right?

No, kid, all I saw was the two of you bothering her.

Is everything alright?

Mom had come back to check on them.

I heard Drew. What’s going on?

Mom, Grandma was talking. She was even able to move her arm!

Ivy looked at her brother and then said, It’s true.

I didn’t see anything, Ma’am, said the nurse. I think it’s best if we let your mom rest.

That’s not her mom, explained Drew. That’s my dad’s mom.

Sure thing. Sorry, said the nurse.

By this time Grandpa and Dad had returned. It was close to noon and that meant lunch. The family always left before that commotion. Lunch was even more depressing than activity time.

Ivy and Drew patiently waited for their parents outside. Dad wanted to help Grandpa with some paperwork. Anyway, the fresh air was much nicer than the lemony tart odor of the nursing home.

I know what I saw, Ivy. Do you think she knew what she was saying?

How am I supposed to know?

I mean, do you think Grandma’s going to be okay?

I don’t know, okay? Ivy immediately regretted raising her voice. I know I don’t like her in there.

Yeah, said Drew.

Now there’s two kids who need to cheer up, said Grandpa. He smiled at Ivy and winked at Drew.

It’s not fair, said Drew.

I know, kiddo.

That nurse is so mean!

I think they are all sad. It’s a sad place, said Ivy.

Not anymore, said Grandpa. It’s a lot brighter place with Grandma. She’s going to make all of those people smile.

Ivy went in for a hug but then realized that Grandpa’s hands were full. He was carrying an old shoe box. He still was able to get his arm around her.

It’s okay to be sad, kids. It isn’t okay to let it wreck the last weekend of your summer. You know Grandma wouldn’t want that.

When can we come over again? Dad said we have to give you time.

Grandpa Bertrand bent down and smiled at the boy and said, You can come over whenever you want.

We can help out. We can keep you company. Mom thinks you’re going to be lonely.

Shut up, Drew, said Ivy with a glare. "We know you’re