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IN the kingdom of White Wind, a girl was born many years ago. One hundred forty-two years, to be exact. This girl wore skin and hair as dark as the night on which she was born, and her mother and father gave her a royal name: Aleen.
She lost her mother early, when she was a girl of seven, and came to know only a life with her father. She thought of her mother often in those days, for the death had happened unexpectedly. Her mother collapsed in the streets one day, and Aleen watched her father drag her mother to bed. The town healer called it a fever, one that could not be cured. Death visited her mother two days later, though no one could see him. Aleen could only feel him.
Aleen blamed her father. He was not a kind man, you see. In fact, he rarely even let his wife or daughter outside the house, for he did not like it when they spoke to the other villagers. Aleen had no friends, no laughter, no excitement at all.
She was a wanderer at heart. She despised being locked in a house so full of her father’s sweat smell. She longed to be free. She longed to walk the streets on her own, without his heavy hand holding her arm, whipping her behind him any time they passed another villager. She longed for a child of her own.
And soon she met a boy, on one of her late night wanderings. When her cottage rumbled with the sound of her father’s breathing, Aleen would wander. It did not take her long to find Jeremy. It did not take her long to begin calling him Jem. It did not take her long to fall in love.
She loved him, and he loved her, but Aleen knew that her father would never allow her to marry. Jem had asked to speak with her father many times, of course, but Aleen told him not to bother. She knew he would never release her from her prison. He needed someone to keep house and prepare his meals and care for the sheep out behind their cottage.
“How do you know he will not set you free?” Jem said one night, when they sat beneath the moon, inside the woods, so anyone watching would not see them.
She had never told anyone why. But she knew she could trust Jem. She had known him for many days now. “I have a gift,” she said.
“A gift?” he said. He tilted his head at her.
“A gift for reading the hearts and intentions of people,” she said. “I know what is in their hearts. I know what they intend to do.” She let the last words trail off in a whisper.
“Sounds a bit like magic,” Jem said.
“Yes, well,” Aleen said. “It is why my father has hidden me all these years. He is afraid of what the people will say.”
“We must get you away from him,” Jem said.
“I wish for it every day,” Aleen said.
“Then run away with me,” he said. “Run away with me and never come back.”
“You know I cannot do this,” Aleen said.
“We could become different people,” he said. “He would never find us.”
Aleen looked at him then, her eyes searching his face. Whatever could he mean, become different people?
“You have the gift of magic,” Jem said.
“No,” Aleen said. “It is simply a way of seeing.”
“It is magic,” Jem said. “Your father has not told you the truth.”
“Magic?” Aleen said. “But why would not my mother—”
“Perhaps your mother did not know,” Jem said.
Aleen thought of it for a time. Her mother had never said a word about magic, but Aleen had only been a young girl when her mother died. There were other things on her mind then. Perhaps her mother had been waiting for the right time.
“And I...” Jem grew very quiet. Aleen looked at him. His eyes flashed in the moonlight. “I have magic as well.”
Aleen drew back from him, as if he were something dangerous. And, in the kingdom of White Wind, boys with magic were considered very dangerous, for stories told of men who had stolen everything that was valuable, including a highly prized magic sword from within the kingdom’s walls, simply because they had magic. Magic was looked upon with disgust and mistrust by the people who had to begin anew all over again every time magic crossed its borders.
“Do not be afraid,” Jem said. “I have lived here all my life. With magic.”
Aleen did not know what to say.
“I did not tell you because I did not know if I could trust you completely,” Jem said. “But I knew, this day, when you told me your secret, that I could trust you with mine.” Jem leaned closer. “You are not afraid of me, are you?” He peered into her eyes, and they were the same eyes they had always been.
Nothing had changed about him at all. Just her knowledge of him.
“No,” she said.
They were quiet for a time.
“With magic, we could transform ourselves,” Jem said. “We would not look the same, and your father would never know. To him, we would simply vanish.”
Aleen looked at this boy she loved, and she felt the tug of her heart. “Is it not dangerous?” she said. The stories in her kingdom also spoke dark and dangerous words about magic. Some of it was true. Some of it was not in the least.
“Perhaps a bit,” Jem said. “A transformation spell is not nearly so dangerous as a vanishing spell. But it carries its own risks.”
“What sorts of risks?” Aleen said.
Jem smiled at her with half of his mouth. “You could become a girl of twenty-two. I could become a boy of thirteen.”
Aleen laughed. She could not help it.
“But that is only with unpracticed magic,” Jem said. “A sorcerer controls a transformation spell.”
“But my magic would only be unpracticed,” Aleen said. “I have never done magic.”
“You have done magic,” Jem said. “You were simply not aware of it.” He took her hand. “But I shall teach you.”
She smiled at him.
“And what would we do after we transform ourselves?” Aleen said.
“We would run away,” Jem said. “To another land.”
“How would we get there?” Aleen said.
“By foot,” Jem said.
“By foot?” Aleen said. “The closest land to us is Guardia.” She shivered. “Not a place I would want to be.”
“There are other lands,” Jem said. “We would reach them before anyone would track us.”
“What makes you so sure of that?” Aleen said.
Jem shrugged. “Or we could use a vanishing spell.” His eyes grew dark, serious. He looked at her. “I know how to do those as well.”
“Where is it you learned your magic?” Aleen said.
“From an old prophet outside the borders of White Wind,” Jem said. “I found him on one of my hunts.”
They lapsed into a silence that felt quite comfortable, both of them thinking of what this escape might mean for their future. Jem knew very well the risks of a vanishing spell. Aleen had no idea. But she knew very well the risks of leaving her father.
A blackbird called over their heads. They both looked up, and perhaps it was the bird, or perhaps it was the gentle moon, that made Aleen say, “Very well.”
“Very well?” Jem said. His eyes held questions.
“We shall run away,” Aleen said.
Jem smiled and wrapped his arms around her. Aleen fell against him softly. “First I shall have to teach you magic.”
She laughed into his shoulder, but it did not even contain a fraction of the joy she felt.