| |
Katrina spent the remainder of the winter in Aloblase healing from her injuries. Those she’d suffered both inside and out. Though SueMelly and Elissa invited her to stay with them at her cottage in Little Delve, the draw of her beloved Halls of Knowledge would have been too much. Until the Council called her in for her final trial, she was not welcomed to the sacred institution.
Then the day finally arrived in mid-winter. Issah had come to her with the summons from her people, giving her a time and place she was to arrive. He made arrangements for her to take a portal to Little Delve.
She had undergone several sessions of endless questions. However, they still put off making a ruling. She tried not to let Darnel’s accusations take root, but she found it difficult at times. Finally, they dismissed her, saying they would send their ruling in due time.
To keep her mind occupied, she returned to her studies at the Academy, not that she really had a particular subject to focus her attention on. Most times she sought out books on the ancient city of Radiance, finding the vast mountain city fascinating and not too different from that of her Curian people’s plight.
Except when Darsiderus invaded Radiance, he left nobody alive.
Alyra wrote her often telling her about the new findings they came across while they worked on rebuilding the new Institute of Knowledge, as they now called it. Lotari and Esdra had remained in Ablaze with many of Wilderland’s creatures, along with most of those who’d been slaves to Racah. He and his mate offered instruction on agriculture and forestry since the woods around the mountain needed a lot of loving care to revive them.
Lotari wrote that the Elmbolds and Okbolds were his best allies in trying to revive the dying land. He was loving the challenge, but hoped soon they’d get a seed from Shaydon’s White Tree. When a White Tree thrived, the land surrounding it would thrive, as well. He still asked for any books she could find for him to use. Many of the townsfolk who’d grown up in Racah couldn’t read or write. They had their work cut out for them.
Please encourage Instructors to come, as well, if you can. The Institute is nearly ready to hold a few rudimentary classes. Most of my training takes place out of doors. I’m finally acclimating to the colder winters. The snow is lovely. Lotari had written in one of his recent letters.
Oh, I’ve received word by messenger bird that my sire, Wyndham, was so impressed by our Meeting Hall in Wilderland that he’s agreed to build a similar one in the River Woods. Last I heard, the reclusive herd of centaurs were making more visits to the township and forging stronger friendships with the townsfolk. I’m beyond pleased with this news.
Though I miss you terribly and often think of Aloblase fondly, I’m so happy here in Ablaze. Especially now that Jerin and Carah have also agreed to stay on.
Later, Stitch wrote a bit of additional news to Lotari’s note.
Did the stubborn ol’ goat-head tell you that he’s going to be a Papa goat-head? Yes, ma’am. That’s right. I’m going to be an uncle! To both a centaur colt, plus Jerin and Carah’s human baby! Ooops, I wasn’t supposed to tell that bit of news yet, either. Oh well. Make sure you pretend to be surprised when Jere writes you. And I don’t care what he says I did, it was all Tarek’s idea.
Miss you Kitten. Much love and hugs, Stitch.
Their letters fueled her hope that things would work out in the end. When any of her friends wrote, she tried hard to not ask about Ethan. Alyra said he’d decided to stay with them instead of returning to Belluvita.
Belluvita was closer than their mountain city. Her heart actually ached over that bit of news.
Dear Alyra wasn’t sure if he’d remain after their union ceremony. Her brother had been particularly melancholy over the past few months. On the other hand, DezPierre now had a new little home of his own nestled in what would be her very own garden come spring. The faithful Okbold had no intention of leaving his family.
Katrina also passed her long days searching for books she thought her friends would find useful. Anytime she heard about a convoy of Logorians or other people heading in that direction, she asked them to carry what books they could.
She’d met several who were looking for a new adventure and had decided to move to the distant city.
Katrina wondered if any of the Curian’s would wish to make the trip to Ablaze. If they ever allowed her to return, she’d ask around.
One particular pleasant day near the end of winter, Katrina returned to her little home beside the bakery to find a visitor waiting on her doorstep. Elissa stood when Katrina came up the walkway. A large basket was tucked under her arm along with a bouquet of daisies.
“Let me guess,” Katrina kissed her young friend on each cheek. The basket is from Granny Fila and the flowers are from my sweet Dilly?”
“Well, Granny isn’t cooking as much as she used to. Nowadays she talks more and more about being ready to pass on into the Land of Everlasting. So, the basket is actually from Ma. And yes, the daisies are from Dilly. Wait until you see how much she’s grown.”
Katrina’s grin faded. “I guess they are finally ready to see me, yes?”
“Yes. The elders sent word to Pa since he’s mayor now. I guess they assumed you would stay in Denovo with us. I don’t understand why you didn’t. We still need and want you there.”
Katrina invited her friend inside, then offered her a cup of warm tea while she went through the basket of jams and sweet breads. The flowers went into a vase that she set by the front window.
“So, you have come to retrieve me?” She set out two cups along with the bread and jelly on the small table placed between two comfortable chairs.
“I thought you might enjoy the company on the trip back. I have a comfortable carriage to ride in. We needed more instructional material, which was my main reason for coming at first. And I thought, or rather hoped, that maybe during our trip, I can entice you to remain with us regardless of what those ol’ Curians have to say.”
Did Elissa also fear they’d not welcome her back? If they didn’t, then what would she do?
Elissa waved her last statement aside. “Of course, they’ll let you return. And you’ll probably wish to live at the Halls of Knowledge with your people. Wait until you see what all they’ve done. We are allowed to enter for special occasions. Most of the elders do not wish to have strangers enter, but Elder Rowel still has some authority and the backing of a younger generation who wish to see more of the outside world. So, at least things are changing. Don’t you think?”
Katrina only heard half of what dear Elissa said. For some reason, she wasn’t sure how eager she was to return to her people. She was an outsider to them. They didn’t seem too friendly to outsiders.
* * * *
A week later, Katrina stood in the council assembly room in the center of a circle of ornate chairs. Older Curians filled the chairs, their ears hanging down over their shoulders and their dark, swirling markings covered their balding heads and wrinkled faces.
During her time in Aloblase, her own markings had started to return, but not as dark as they were when she lived in Denovo.
“Katerina,” read the High Commander from a book perched on a podium before him. “First child of Keltin and Marilic. You were sent away soon after your birth. Given to a Healer who kept your identity a secret until she was no longer able to hide your special Curian abilities. From there you were sent to live with a family of sheepherders in the Northern Semitamon Mountains. Is this a true recounting of your history?”
Katrina stared down at the stone floor. Tiny flecks of dark purple and blue ran along the surface. Interesting. “It is as you say, High Commander.”
They asked her a few more questions about her upbringing and early years in Denovo. “While you lived in the city, did you ever find an entrance into the sacred Halls?”
“No, sir. Not until after I met with King Shaydon. He requested that I return here and find a way in. Once I did so, I was to seek out any books that might shed light on where you sought concealment. Issah was always sure you survived the attack.”
“Was it you, Katerina, who learned of our place of refuge?”
She finally glanced up. The questioner was an elderly man named Rowel. “Please sir, I prefer to be called Katrina. And no sir. It was my Illuminate friends who actually stumbled upon your hiding place. By the time they accomplished that, I had only begun to explore this part of the fortress.”
Rowel was about to ask another question when the Commander again rose from his seat and cut his inquiry off. “Katerina, you allowed people from the city, outsiders, to live in our sacred halls. Did you not?”
“Many of them had been burned out of their homes, sir. I—”
“I take that as an affirmative. My next inquiry is after the second attack by Darsiderus, you were taken captive. How did he know you were here?”
She blew out a long, calming breath. They’d been over this a couple of times before. However, her inquisitors had been other leaders, lower in stature.
Today, she’d been taken to the highest-ranking leaders. Most of them were over a hundred years old.
Her palms grew damp, but she wouldn’t attempt to dry them on her skirt. She kept them clasped before her. “I used the scope before I had been properly trained to do so. His scope and mine locked in together. He was able to learn more about me than I’d ever intended him to know.”
“Where is our other scope now?”
“I believe it was destroyed when the castle collapsed, yes?”
The Commander returned to his seat with a loud huff. “And our sacred texts, as well, I assume?”
Katrina nodded.
Elder Rowel stood once more, casting an irritated scowl at the Commander. “We now wish to ask about how you ended up in Racah, dear Katrina.”
A small smile tugged at her mouth. At least one of the elders here had a heart. The rest were as cold and stony as the building they resided in. “Darsiderus intended to use me as bait to capture the Illuminate Alyra. He knew she would go in my stead. I knew this as well, yes? So, I broke his portal maker—”
“Our portal maker.” Commander interrupted.
“At the time, I did not know the extent of what he’d stolen from us.” She fidgeted with the lace on her sleeves. “I broke it to close the portal before he could get his hands on my friend. The kingdom needed her. I did what was necessary.”
“Indeed, you did, Katrina.” Rowel encouraged. “The Illuminate couple may be the last remaining of their kind.” He smoothed the pages from the book opened on a podium before him. Before he was able to ask the next question, once again the Commander interrupted him.
“And while you were a prisoner in Racah, did you not strike a deal with the Dark Ruler to get yourself out of prison?”
Here it came. She explained Darnel’s desire for her to move into the castle. “He had books about himself that he wished to have transcribed.”
“So you did this willingly?” Commander asked in his gruff tone.
“Yes, I did.”
“And you willingly agreed to move into the castle?”
“Yes, sir.” She considered explaining, but the expression on the commander’s face told her he wasn’t interested in hearing her reasons.
“What about the times you were seen dining with him?” Commander demanded. “I even heard rumors that you attended his soirees.”
“I did, sir.” The other members whispered amongst themselves. Katrina knew exactly where this was going. “I have a question to ask.”
“You have no right to ask us any questions, Katerina.” The Commander’s face started to turn red, making his markings stand out more.
She stiffened her back and asked them anyway. “I wish to know if this was how you treated Darsiderus’ mother. I read she was cast out of the order and left to fend for herself. She lived her few remaining days as an outcast, yes?”
Elder Rowel closed the book. “My dear, the usual protocol of our establishment is that when one disobeys our longstanding rules, they are no longer trustworthy. This quality is imperative for all Wisdom Keepers.”
“You speak to me of being trustworthy when it was your book Darnel found that described in detail how to open the barriers between worlds? That told him how to control the demons of the underworld. Everyone knows that is a forbidden subject, yet you—”
“Enough!” Bellowed the Commander. “Those books were written hundreds of years ago. Since then, we’ve become more stringent in our constructs. We expect more from our people. Our role in this land is of utter importance and must be maintained. In turn, we feel it necessary to cut off such blights as yourself, and of that tyrant’s parent, before their diseased thinking spread.” He leaned forward. “We’ve seen, have we not, what deviating from the laws brings about?”
“That is what you think? How unfortunate,” she whispered, but it seemed her voice carried enough for the Commander to hear her.
“Katerina, it is unfortunate for you. Because of your dealings with that traitor, the majority of us feel you will remain an outsider. You have not been brought up in our ways, and obviously have no idea of the importance of following our statutes. You are dismissed. If you have any other belongings here, please gather them now and take them with you. A guard will escort you to the border of Little Delve.”
The council rose and filed out. Except for Elder Rowel.
“Where will I go?” Katrina asked, not surprised when nobody answered her question.
“Come, my dear.” Rowel waved her to follow him. “I’ll walk you out. I believe all of your belongings were gathered a while ago and sent to your cottage in Little Delve.” As they left the circular room, Katrina gave one last look at her beloved Halls. Her heart broke. After all that hard work. Those months of living alone, sleeping in the drafty library.
They were the best and worst months of her life.
“I’m sure,” Rowel was saying as they headed for the southern side of the fortress. “That the good people of Denovo will appreciate someone of your knowledge teaching their young. I know a few other of our youngsters, those wishing to see the world and finally enjoy the sun on their faces, have moved to various outlying towns and villages. Not all of us wish to adhere so strictly to the old ways. But, as the old die out, the new come into power and make changes. Some good. Some not so good.”
When they exited into the lake valley, someone waited on the bottom steps for them.
“Oh, Issah,” Rowel exclaimed, offering a low bow. “Well, what a pleasant surprise, your highness. Why did you not enter in the usual way?”
“I found the lake portal sufficed for where I needed to go today.” Issah smiled at Katrina when she reached his side. All her previous fears and sadness lifted at the sight of him.
So long as she had Issah guiding her, she would be fine. Something about the sparkle in his earthy brown eyes told her he knew exactly what happened and already had a plan in store for her. Well, she was open for just about anything.
“Sire, would you like to come in for a warm bowl of stew? Or some tea?”
“Thank you Rowel.” He rested his hand on the Elder’s shoulder. “But I’m only passing through. Maybe next time?”
“I wait eagerly for that time. Good day, your highness. A pleasure to finally meet you, Katrina. I know you worked hard to restore our Halls. Do not despair about today’s proceedings. Hard, honest work is always rewarded in due time.”
Katrina gave him a quick hug, then followed Issah toward the lake. “Where are you going, Issah?” She asked. “My belongings remain at my cottage in Little Delve. What there is, which isn’t much, no?”
He stopped and faced her. “I’m sure you’re feeling a great pain of rejection from your people, my dear child. But I want you to know that rejection comes from them, not me and not my father. We are both pleased and proud of all you’ve done.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Starting today, your life is an open book, my dear. From this day forth, you are free to write your story as you will.”
She pressed her hands over his. “But my will is whatever you will for me, Issah. I gave my life to you a long time ago. I’ll not take it back now. Please, I’m seeking your advice. I know the people of Denovo would take me in... but....”
“Is Denovo where your heart is?”
Katrina shook her head. “I fear my heart has fallen into an impossible place.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because of our laws. I must marry a Curian, correct?”
Issah continued walking until they reached the lake shore. The snows had already melted, leaving a splattering of yellow and purple flowers blooming across the fields surrounding them. This had always been one of her favorite spots to come and quietly think.
“Your people have banished you from their order.” Issah bent to pick a handful of daisies and lupines. “I do not believe you are required to be burdened by any of their laws. You said your wish is to seek my advice?”
“Yes. My life remains in your service, Prince Issah.”
“Well.” He handed her the bouquet and asked her to hold them for a minute. Taking her by the shoulders, he pointed her toward the east. “In that direction lays my city, Aloblase. We always have a place for anyone who wishes to live there. You would make a fine instructor there.” He turned her toward the south. “In that direction are many towns who could also use your service, as there are many other towns to the north with the same need. However,” He turned her toward the setting sun.
“In the far west is a budding city called Ablaze, the glowing city on a hill. I have need of instructors there as well. The positions are quickly filling up. I hear there is still room at the Steward’s Hall where you can stay until you are ready to take on your instructor position. If you choose to follow me in that direction.”
He took back the bouquet and bundled them together with a bit of leather string. “The choice, at this time, is yours, my dear. You’ve sacrificed much for others. Now I wish to reward your hard work. Where in Alburnium would you like to venture to next? I’ll personally escort you there myself.”
The Steward’s Hall? Alyra and Tarek’s home? Oh, how often had Katrina closed her eyes trying to imagine what that mountain city must look like now? Would it match or exceed her dreams?
“I know this is a big decision,” Issah interrupted her thoughts. “Perhaps you will simply agree to go with me and make your final decision later. I’m late for a very important event. One I’m sure you’d rather not miss either.”
“Yes, I wish to go wherever you go. But first, I must ask. If the Curian laws no longer apply to me, then I’m free to live where I wish. To... to... seek a life with who I wish? I mean, so long as I have your approval?”
He grinned. “You have my approval, indeed.” He held out his hand to her. “Shall we? A new life awaits you, my dear Katrina. You only need to take that first step.” Issah waved his hand over the water, creating a wide-open portal.
Katrina peered into the opening that revealed a green country surrounding a sweet hamlet of newly built structures trimmed in white stones. There was a quaint Inn and next door, a shoemaker, then an alchemist shop. On further exploration, Katrina spotted Brie’s Bakery and wondered if her dear caretaker friend was there. She’d have to check as soon as possible. The center of town was filled with people standing before a stately Meeting Hall. Behind the two-story building, the sky was lit up with the brilliant oranges and purples of sunset.
On the Meeting Hall steps stood a familiar couple facing each other as they clasped hands. Before them stood the white-haired Elderad who smiled down on them.
She stood frozen on the shore of the lake, unable to make herself step through. The sight before her filled her heart to the point she feared it might burst from the ache in her chest.
To her delight, she spotted her Lotari and Stitch. Her dear boy was already heading toward her, followed by a man dressed in a fine jacket with a White Tree emblem on his breast. Jerin!
He waved her to come on. “Times wasting. Issah, they’re waiting for you.”
Then Katrina spotted the one she’d thought of more than anyone else. The one who’d captured her heart the moment their eyes had met at the gate leading to Darnel’s garden. But all that was gone now. Except for the man with honey-colored eyes and a shy smile.
“Tarek has his attendant,” Stitch said, stopping on the other side of the portal. He held out his hand. “Alyra is waiting. For you, silly Kitten. Come on.”
Katrina stepped through the passageway and didn’t look back.
* * * *
The union celebration went late into the night. Dancing and singing. All of her friends were together again. Alyra was sure now that Katrina had returned that Ethan would definitely agree to stay.
Alyra held her beloved’s hand tightly in hers. His forest green eyes danced in the light of the bonfires as they stomped around the circle to a lively tune. He wouldn’t stop pressing soft kisses on her forehead and cheeks. Every chance he got.
She loved it.
Tarek wore a silk jacket the same golden color as his hair. She couldn’t get over how handsome he looked standing across from her as Issah spoke over their union.
A pale yellow tail swished past, nearly smacking her in the face. “Stitch! Go dance your jig somewhere else.”
He spun Tarek’s sister Vesia before dipping her backward. She let out a scream then looked to her brother, “Tare?”
“Hey, I tried to warn you, sis. You never listen.” He shrugged with an evil grin, then pulled Alyra toward the tables laden with an assortment of delectable pastries and small cakes made by her new mother and sister-in-law. Vesia had finally conceded to make a quick trip to meet King Shaydon. But she was eager to return and help her Ma in their bakery.
Alyra figured the shoe maker’s son might have something to do with her eagerness to return, as well, but she kept those thoughts from her protective husband. Husband. She liked the sound of that. How long had they dreamed and hoped for this day that she often feared might never come.
“You look beautiful, love. That blue reminds me of the spring skies. What a beautiful dress the Faerie Queen made for you.”
She swished the long skirt back and forth. It seemed to sparkle in the torchlights that lined the white cobblestone streets. “I’m so glad they came for our union ceremony. And even happier that some have agreed to stay and start a new colony here. The woods will be thriving by next spring.
Alyra caught sight of Issah and Riyah talking quietly together at one of the tables. The moment he had stepped out of the grand fountain that now constantly flowed in the center of town, she’d held her breath, hoping her sweet Katrina would be with him. Despite how much her friend had hoped to be welcomed back to her Curian people, Alyra, Stitch, and everyone else knew she belonged to them. They loved her so much.
Alyra cut a sly glance at her brother who hadn’t stopped watching Katrina since she arrived. She nudged him with her elbow. “Go ask her to dance, you toad. Trust me, if you don’t, Stitch will. You’ll be doing her a favor if you ask first. Believe me.”
Tarek snorted a laugh. “No kidding. Just ask my sister. Hurry man, if you have any heart. Save the fair maiden before it’s too late.”
Ethan shook his head, staring up at the starry night sky, then did as they told him. It was with a fair amount of satisfaction that Alyra saw them dance all the dances together for the remainder of the evening.
The merrymaking continued late into the night, but the newly joined couple steeled away to their newly completed home where they’d start their newly entwined lives together.
* * * *
A few days later, Tarek and Alyra returned from their time of seclusion. His wife liked how the centaurs were to spend time in solitude together after their union and decided to start a new tradition. He’d been keen on the idea, too.
But there was still much work yet to do and they ventured out a couple of days later. He held her hand as they walked toward town where the folks bustled about their daily tasks. “Do you think Issah is still here?”
Alyra walked by his side, her hands wrapped around his arm. “He said he planned to stay a little while.”
“Let’s stop in and see Ma. I’m starving for some of her warm rolls.” When they entered the bakery, they found it full of customers, including the prince who sat at a table with Katrina and Ethan.
Tarek wondered if his brother-in-law would ever get the nerve to tell Miss K how he was feeling. From her happy smile, he was sure their Curian friend felt the same.
Issah rose and came toward them, greeting Alyra with a kiss on the cheek before he pulled Tarek into a back-pounding hug.
“I have a good feeling about them.” Issah said, glancing over his shoulder at the shy couple.
“I do, too.” Tarek nodded.
Issah led them to a vacant table as Brie brought them both one of her famous warm rolls. “About time you two showed your faces again.” She winked. “Can’t wait till there’s little ones in our family again.”
With that, she spun on her heel and sauntered off. Tarek laughed at the flush shading Alyra’s cheeks. He couldn’t argue. He hoped so, too.
Issah grinned at them, patting Alyra’s hand. “I’m glad to see you out and about again. I’ve been holding onto a gift I brought for you. Actually for the township. Will you meet Riyah and me in front of the Meeting Hall tonight at midnight?” He leaned forward and added, “You must come as well, Tarek. We both are confident that with your help, it’ll grow tall and strong in no time.”
“Help what grow?” Alyra asked.
Tarek had to wonder at his secretive smile.
“Come this evening, and you’ll see.” He stood then and left them to their breakfast. They spent the day catching up with Katrina, along with the whole group, as she shared what the Curian Elders had decided.
“Their loss,” Jerin stated. “Our gain. You’ll stay here, right? Help us at the Institute?”
Stitch let out a whoop of joy when she nodded. “Yes. I’m completely free to live and do as I please now. I’m eager to get started on my new life.”
Tarek didn’t miss Ethan’s pleased smile.
* * * *
As promised, Alyra and Tarek returned to the Meeting Hall at midnight. They were both exhausted from the day’s work, yet eager and curious to see what gift Issah had brought for them.
“We’re here,” Tarek said, stifling a yawn. “Why did you need us to come at this late hour? I have to be up at the crack of dawn to help raise a barn down in the valley.”
Issah stood beside Riyah before a freshly dug hole. He removed a dark green pod from his pouch. “Ablaze’s first White Tree, straight from Shaydon’s throne. Instead of having to wait several years for it to grow into fruition, Riyah tells me you’re quite skilled at helping them get a decent start.” He placed the seed in Alyra’s hands.
“Tarek,” Riyah said, “put your hands over your mate’s. Then Issah and I will do the same. By the time the sun rises, I suspect we’ll have a strong, young tree in our midst. Maybe the first fruits will appear before spring turns into summer.”
His mouth fell open, but he didn’t question. Once they were all in place, Riyah counted, “One... two... three... glow!”
A tendril grew into a stalk, and that stalk turned into a branch that thickened into a trunk. And just as the town had grown stronger than before, the tree stood in white brilliance as leaves and tiny buds filled every twig and new branch.
Alyra and Tarek stood back amazed at how fast it had grown. Riyah and Issah covered the new roots with dirt, then also stood back to inspect their work.
“Amazing what can be accomplished,” Issah said with a hearty laugh, “When my people work together for a common purpose. Amazing indeed.”
––––––––
Stitch trotted toward the Steward’s cottage along the path through the vibrant woods. The summer sun cast beams of light through the stately pines mixed with tall birch and the occasional oak and elm. He loved strolling along the mountain paths with no fear of a renegade dwarf trying to bring him down, or a band of head-hunters looking for fresh stock. The days of bullying and trading creatures were finally over.
Good-riddance!
The medallion bounced on his bare chest as he hopped over a bubbling stream. He patted it with his free hand. The other held a bouquet of columbines and purple sage. Since the day Issah had given back his medallion, he’d not removed it. Not once.
He trotted around a bend startling a herd of deer resting beside the stream. Maybe he should slow down. Except time was wasting and he had a very important meeting to get to.
“Well, where are you off to?” A female centaur stepped onto the path blocking his way. Pale white hair flowed down her back and silvery horse body. “I thought you’d—” Silver’s question died on her lips when she saw the bouquet in his hand. “My, but those are lovely. Are they for me?”
Stitch grinned. He’d brought the fair Silver her share of bouquets. Of course, he’d also kept Lupin, Merri-golden, Lilly, and Esdra’s cousin, Chatilly supplied with flowers, as well. Was it his fault he enjoyed sharing the mountain’s beauty with the pretty females? He thought not.
Kat disagreed.
So did Little Miss Alyra who often chastised him about settling on one. What a troll brain. They were all too cute to choose just one. Besides, he enjoyed his freedom to do as he pleased when he pleased. “Sorry Sil, but these are for something else.” He offered her a playful wink instead.
Silver sighed with a shake of her head. “Very well, but I’ll expect you to save a dance for me, you scoundrel. Since I saw you first, I get the first dibs.”
Stitch tapped his finger to his beard. “Well, actually, I met Lilly and Lupin in the vale. But the third dance is yours.” Before she could protest, he rushed off, telling her he was in a hurry. Hopefully, he’d not run into any more of the clan’s females or he’d end up dancing his hooves to a nub.
Finally, the Steward’s house came into view. The garden was blooming with an assortment of vegetables and herbs. The last couple of months, he and Lot had needed to do most of the work tending it. He didn’t mind. Not in the least.
Stitch had a new philosophy. Live each and every day to its fullest. Be generous with his time and show kindness to everyone he met. Oh, and never, ever, never take his medallion off again.
“You’re late,” Tarek said meeting Stitch at the front door.
“We have plenty of time, buddy.” He held up the bouquet. “Say, do you have something to tie this with?”
Tarek turned just as his wife wobbled out holding up a piece of ribbon. “This will look nice with those colors. You chose nicely, Stitch.”
He looked down at her swollen belly and chuckled. “You sure you’re not going to have a full-sized dwarf instead of a little human baby?”
She glowered at him. “Shut it, mule. I’m in no mood for your jokes.”
After Tarek helped her onto Stitch’s back, she worked on tying the ribbon into a pretty bow around the flowers. “I think she’ll love this. The colors will match her dress.”
“Take it easy,” Tarek warned Stitch as he fell in step beside him. “We’ll go slowly. She doesn’t need to be jostled.”
Alyra sighed. “Maybe a little jostling will get it to finally come. I’m almost as big as our house, Tare!” Her voice rose with each word.
Stitch patted Tarek’s back when he cringed. “And that’s why I remain unattached, my friend. Watching you, Lot, and Jere is enough to convince me.” Except they were quite happy with their lives and their growing families. Well, maybe someday. Much later.
He felt a sharp tug on his long hair from the annoyed mother-to-be. Stitch chuckled.
They made their way down to the town Meeting Hall where a celebration was in the making. Stitch and Tarek had been asked to stand with the groom. As they approached they found Ethan waiting and looking somewhat nervous as he stood beside the arched entrance to the Meeting Hall.
“There you are!” He exclaimed. “You’re late!”
“Has it started?” Stitch asked while Tarek lifted his wife down off his back.
“Well no, you daft pixie brain. Of course, it’s not started yet.”
“Well then, we’re not late. Are we?”
Ethan smacked his hand to his forehead.
Alyra handed him the flowers. “Don’t even try to reason with him. You’ll lose every time. You look handsome, by the way.” She smoothed his collar and fixed his medallion so it laid outside of his shirt.
“Thanks,” Ethan answered with a blush. “Ready to go inside? Everyone else has already arrived.” He shot an irritated scowl at Stitch who ignored it as he strolled inside, head held high.
He didn’t know what all the fuss was about. What a bunch of pixies they were being over a simple ceremony. When he entered he paused to look around. The main assembly room was open like their Wilderland Hall. Since creatures and humans, alike, lived in the township, they’d settled on a Hall that would be suitable for everyone.
Tall, slender birch trees grew around the perimeters, their branches offering shelter from above. The Fae had built their little city up in the boughs. Nobody minded in the least because their glowing lights lit up the room in the evenings.
Alyra waddled in next and found a chair to sit in. Tarek and Ethan also stopped near the door, waiting for the signal from Issah to start. At the nod of his head, lively music began playing.
Lotari had his pipes. A couple of fauns played harps and a dwarf beat a rhythm on his drums. From one of the side doors, a curly-headed child skipped out, tossing flowers and pine branches as she danced toward Issah along with a couple of Okbolds following along.
“That’s different,” Stitch whispered.
Ethan leaned closer. “A human tradition from the eastern lands. Though I’ve never seen Okbolds join in, but this is a new day.” He shrugged.
From the opposite direction, Esdra entered trailing a long streaming piece of gauzy material that glimmered in the light.
“There’s mama!” Shouted a child centaur with dark curly hair and rosy cheeks. Lotari quickly pulled the youngster to his side, hushing him.
Stitch laughed at little Tailwind. The lad’s antics always kept his parents on their hooves. Stitch still had so much to teach his nephew.
Behind Esdra came Carah, then Elissa, who’d traveled from Denovo with her little sister, Dilly, to attend the celebration. They also trailed the glistening streamers behind them. When they reached Issah’s side, they all let them fall to the ground.
“This is it,” Tarek said, nudging his brother-in-law.
Stitch loved the joining ceremonies but was still glad it was them instead of him.
Ethan smoothed his shirt. It was too hot for a vest or jacket. Besides they’d tried to keep everything simple. Except that the Fae didn’t know what simple meant. The new Faerie Queen had deemed her court the organizers of all union ceremonies. The faeries were romantics like that.
Tarek gave his wife a quick kiss, ordering her to remain in her seat. She rolled her eyes but didn’t seem inclined to budge anyway.
Stitch walked beside Tarek as they led Ethan toward the dais where Issah waited. Along the other aisle, she also approached the dais until they met at the front. Ethan bowed, offering the gift of flowers Stitch had collected for him.
Katrina took the flowers in her delicate hands.
Little, or rather round, Miss was right. They matched her pale lavender dress perfectly. The couple joined hands and stepped up before Issah who spoke the vows of union, of joining lives, and choosing to love through the good times and bad. Through trials and peace. He talked on about the mighty cord that wasn’t easily broken.
“This is what happens when people join together.” Issah said, now addressing the crowd at large. “Not only in a union such as yours but for a greater good, a common goal, to build a life for themselves and others.”
Yeah, maybe so, Stitch thought as he caught Silver grinning at him with a playful wink. Maybe soon.
After all the speeches and other boring stuff were over, the fun stuff began. Dancing. Eating. More dancing. More eating. Everything Stitch loved about life. He’d been given a second chance and wouldn’t waste one moment of it.
As the guests moved outside for the party, Alyra let out a loud gasp that stopped everyone in their tracks. Tarek was at her side in an instant.
She looked around. “Lot? Es? I think it’s time!”
Stitch and Tarek led her toward the nearest Healer’s house, the centaur couple following along. “Breath, sweetheart,” Lotari coaxed. “You’ll be fine.”
Stitch grinned. “We’re getting a two-for-one, it looks like. A baby and a union all in one day. Who can ask for more?”
“Hush mule!” Alyra shouted before they escorted her inside. Tarek had to wait on the front stoop while Esdra went in to help with the birthing. Lotari acted as the go-between, giving updates and fetching things they needed. He seemed just as nervous as the father who sat with his elbows on his knees, his pale face as white as snow.
Eventually, the sound of an infant’s cry drifted to them. Followed soon by another.
Tarek’s head jerked up. “Did I hear...two?”
Lotari came out then with a bundle in his arms. “Your son.” He deposited the babe in Tarek’s arms. “I’ll bring out your daughter in a minute.”
“Two?” That was all Tarek seemed able to say.
Stitch slapped him on the shoulder with a chuckle. “Oh my, twice the fun!”
––––––––
Thank you for taking the time to read Ablaze. If you enjoyed this story, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review from the place where you purchased this book. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and much appreciated. Thank you.
Also, please visit my webpage, leave comments, and sign up for my newsletter where you can keep up with new releases, sales, giveaways, and other news in my story world. Thank you again for your support and for reading my stories.
Did you enjoy The White Road Chronicles? I’m pleased to tell you that there is now more from Alburnium!
Head on over to my Story World Website and find out about the new series Chronicles of Alburnium. Starting with book one: Blood And Water read a sample chapter on the next page.
Visit my website for more information
Blessings and Peace
Ephesians 4:32
J.R. Castle
Blood and Water
Sneak peek
The Lionheart Province
Book One
Chronicles of Alburnium
A Grimm’s Fairy tale Retelling loosely based on
The Maiden Without Hands
Chapter One
––––––––
“I’ll return by nightfall,” Wilhelm the Miller promised his golden-haired daughter who had followed him outside. “Perhaps today I’ll be lucky and bring home a rabbit or quail for dinner, along with some choice logs people will be willing to trade for. I’ll head deeper into the Mire Woods today to places that haven’t already been scavenged by desperate hands.”
Kardia draped a full water bag over his shoulder. She was about to warn him to not go too far when the door to their cottage slammed behind them.
Mother sauntered out, a basket in one hand and a cloth pouch in the other. She shoved the pouch at her husband. “Don’t be foolish, Wilhelm. There are dangers in the Mire. The few scraps of wood you’re able to bring back are not worth losing you over.” She pecked a quick kiss on his whiskered cheek. “And I’ll expect you to return before dinner. Here’s some bread to tide you over. Kardia, I have a few chores for you to do while I’m gone.”
Dadda smiled and patted his daughter’s cheek affectionately. Kardia wished he’d allow her to go with him. She was seventeen cycles now and could help if he’d allow it. But he was so protective of her, their only child that he wouldn’t hear of her setting one shoe in the Mire woods. Wild creatures, animals—and worse—were said to take shelter in the thick forest. Rebels who’d been shunned and run out of the Province towns sought refuge in the steep hills. She’d heard the stories about bands of sorcerers living in vast caverns deep beneath the stone and dirt. She hoped they were merely entertaining tales.
Kardia shuddered and pushed the thought from her mind. Turning to her mother, she said, “Dadda has asked me to sweep out the mill today. They’ll be gathering the winter wheat soon, and he wishes for us to be ready—”
“Pixie fluff!” Mother clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Those who did manage to horde a few grains to grow will keep their bounty to themselves, foolish man. They will, however, likely come to me to bake their bread for them. That’s when we will reap a bit of reward for their endeavors. I gathered a good store of nuts before the squirrels snatched them all. They’ll never know the difference, and I should be able to scrape up a nice bit of flour for ourselves when they do come.”
Dadda sighed with a bob of his woven wide-brimmed hat. “Which is why I’ll go into the woods and gather wood and hunt for game, my practical Asmita. It’s the best I can do at this time for my dear family.” He winked at Kardia, drawing a small smile from her.
Mother was the town baker, and Dadda left her to do her work while he did his.
Kardia loved her kind father with all her heart. While she had her mother’s trim form and graceful mannerisms, she favored Dadda’s fair colored hair and green eyes. In every way, her parents were complete opposites, in looks, actions, and temperaments.
Dadda was a gentle giant of a man who, like her, yearned for the good days to return and held onto the thin thread of hope that someday, the winds would turn, and change would come.
Ever since the village Prior had passed away two years ago, the town had been on the verge of poverty. Prior Johnnes had been assigned by the Regent of their province to care for the Meeting Hall and oversee the village. Johnnes had no family, and it seemed the Regent who lived far away in the capital of Rodonal had forgotten the insignificant hamlet of Goia.
Without Prior Johnnes’ leadership, the Meeting Hall had fallen into disrepair, and people were forced to take care of their own needs to survive.
So Dadda, who had no grain to grind in the mill, would venture daily into the wilds to provide for his family. He did so without hesitation or complaint, always saying this was only a season in their lives and eventually, things would change.
Kardia ate up his promises, feeding her own dwindling hope. Mother huffed at their optimism. But at least, with a grain of hope, Kardia held onto the morals Dadda instilled in her: to be generous and kind, helpful when the opportunity arose, and patient with those who weren’t.
Mother often called her foolish, as well.
Dadda brushed a kiss on Kardia’s forehead, tickling her with his bristly beard, then kissed Mother’s cheek before he turned and headed toward the river. He would follow its course until outside of the village common, then cross over into the woods by a narrow footbridge. She used to follow him when she was younger, begging to come along until he was forced to take a switch to her for her disobedience.
She’d never disobeyed again. The discipline had broken both their hearts, as Dadda wept nearly as much as she had. From that day forward, she’d vowed to never be the reason he cried a second time.
“Kardia,” Mother interrupted her musings, “after you’ve swept out the mill, I want you to begin furrowing the garden. I saved a few seeds from last year. Let us hope they’ll take and provide something we can put in our stews besides the bitter roots we forage in the woods.”
“Yes, Mother. I’ll only give the mill a quick sweep. Get rid of the cobwebs, just in case someone—”
Mother smiled and pinched her cheek. “Just in case. Yes, yes.” She started toward town to haggle for whatever pittance she could manage for a bit of oil and candles. “Oh, I forgot,” Mother slowed her steps. “The mattock’s handle cracked last time I used it. I’d meant to mention it to Wilhelm and see if he could replace it.”
Kardia blurted without thinking, “I’ll repair it. No need to burden—”
Mother raced to her side, snatching her arm roughly in her claw-like fingers. “Hush, stupid girl. What have I told you about bragging about your...” she whispered the last word, “talent. I’ve warned you and will whip you myself if I learn you are not following my instructions.”
“Yes, Mother. Nobody has ever seen me do it. I promise.”
“They won’t see anything that doesn’t happen. Leave the tool fixing to your father. We’ll work on the garden tomorrow. Together.” As Mother turned to leave, she said, “Where I can keep an eye on you.”
Kardia watched her mother rush down the road like a hawk swooping in for the kill. Letting out a long sigh, she turned toward the mill to start her daily chores.
What was so wrong with being able to fix things? Dadda had been pleased when her gifting appeared on her fifteenth birthday. He boasted that it came from his bloodline, the House of the White Horse. His lineage consisted of powerful Healers, Illuminates, and Sanos, like herself, who had the ability to fix things and...heal people. Though Mother forbade her from trying, even when they themselves sustained an injury. That didn’t stop her from mending her own cuts and scrapes, especially since the town Healer no longer opened his door to visitors.
Watching the skin heal over a cut right before her eyes was simply amazing.
But Mother insisted that she hide her talent, despite all the good she could do for people. Mr. Marlow, the blacksmith, would not have such a terrible limp now if she’d only been allowed to mend his broken leg. Perhaps people would even pay for her services if she’d only been allowed to use them.
Instead, both of her parents agreed that it was best to keep her special quality a secret for now. Father once said that perhaps they should consider making the journey to see King Shaydon, but Mother hushed him soon as the words escaped his mouth.
Of course, Kardia wanted to know more about this King. She’d heard tales of a ruler that lived in a grand city near the eastern coast of Alburnium. She’d wanted to know if the king was real and why would she need to go see him about her gift? And why couldn’t she use it to help people fix things? Evidently, it wasn’t a common gift. Like the elusive Illuminates, only a very few possessed such powerful talents.
Most, like her father and mother, had more common gifts, like being able to grow things or calm animals. Prior Johnnes had a gift of being a fine leader. The herbalist Miltie could make any seed grow, and Mr. Tillus had a talent for knowing exactly how to turn those plants into concoctions that cured people.
But Dadda often said there were a few, even from his own family line, who’d been endowed with a talent like hers.
So many questions plagued Kardia’s mind that sometimes it was hard for her to concentrate on her work. Blowing out a long breath of relief at her mother’s retreating form, she headed for the mill house, grabbing the broom that rested against the wall of their little cottage. She’d made it from scraps of the thatch that sheltered their little stone home. Dadda hoped to someday be able to afford real wood shingles that wouldn’t drip when the heavy rains came.
Maybe someday.
For today, she’d tackle her chores and do her best to make sure both her parents were pleased with her when they returned home. The last thing she wanted to do was cause them more burdens than they already had.
* * * *
“Listen to me carefully, Grunt.” Master Fajer gazed into the glowing ball perched on the table inside their traveling wagon. Sweat dotted his bald head covered in red markings. The star within a circle was his own special mark. “You must lure the girl to the tree. I don’t care how you do it, she must remain there until I send Marlin to you.”
The apprentice glanced up at the cardinal pecking at the pile of seeds scattered at the bottom of its cage. “Master, won’t you at least tell me what interest you have in a stupid village girl? I never took you for the type interested in unions.” He took a step backward, knowing he was overstepping the line they’d established between the two of them. Fajer the Charmer had taken him on as an apprentice because he showed real abilities with conjuring. But he was nothing more than a servant boy and Fajer was quick to remind him of this fact.
Grunt, as he’d come to be known, had spent the last few years living with the Wizards of Lalet, but he hated their incessant rules and boring routines. After spending a few years learning what he could, he set out on his own, seeking someplace he could finally fit in.
When Grunt first met up with the traveling sorcerer, he was repulsed over how Fajer engaged in peddling fake medicines, conjuring simple tricks to amuse crowds, and wheedling his way into the smaller towns that weren’t against such entertainments. Grunt didn’t understand why such a powerful sorcerer wasted his time with such frivolity.
However, Fajer found Grunt interesting and offered to show him real enchantments he’d never do before the common crowd.
“I’ll teach you how to gain more power than you have now, little grunt. You’ll only need to do as I say when I say, and we’ll get along fine,” Fajer promised.
Grunt was willing to bide his time and see if the conjurer had anything interesting to show him. So far, he wasn’t too impressed.
Fajer stood, glowering down at him. He wore a traveling cloak instead of the ornate robes of his order called The Brethren. Would Fajer be heading into the little hamlet today? And why did he need that silly girl to be near the dying White Healing Tree?
“You do what I say, Grunt. I’ve told you before, that until you’re willing to be truthful with me, I’ll not offer my complete trust in you. What interest I have in that girl is my concern, not yours.”
“Master, I’ve given you my name, I don’t know why—”
“Bah, that is not your true name. Am I supposed to believe your parents named you after a worthless weed? Someone with your powers will have a dignified name.” He swung back his hand, but Grunt ducked out of the way, expecting the move. “I’ll never use your fake name, understand? Until you’re honest with me, you’re nothing but a grunt! Now go! Do as I say or don’t bother coming back. If this fails, I’ll beat you senseless and leave you in the woods for the vultures.”
“Yes, Master.” He started to walk from the camp, then stopped, thinking he needed something that might gain the girl’s interest. She might not be willing to talk to a stranger.
While Fajer put away the seeing-globe, Grunt went to his sleeping cot and lifted the straw matt to reveal a narrow storage space where he kept trinkets and other things he’d found during their travels. Taking out a small mandolin with a broken string, he tucked the instrument under his belt and hurried outside before Master accused him of loitering.
From what he’d gathered from Fajer’s mutterings as he watched the Miller family, the girl liked music and was good at fixing things.
Grunt took off at a jog, following the narrow trail through the woods. He followed the sound of rushing water. There should be a bridge somewhere that he could cross to get into the village. He’d need to be careful and try to avoid being seen. He liked staying in the shadows and keeping a low profile, always fearing he’d be recognized and taken back to the Light King in Aloblase.
No, he’d kicked the dust of that city off his feet and vowed never to return unless he had a powerful army behind him ready to take over Aloblase. Someday, he would find a way to make that happen.
For now, he’d follow any wizard willing to take him on. He’d learn everything there was to learn and explore the reaches of his powers. Fajer promised to show him ways to expand those powers. He had better keep his promise.
When he came to the bridge, Grunt spotted a man with a wide-brimmed hat passing over. Ducking behind a thick oak, he waited for the gentleman to pass. The fellow whistled a happy tune until he reached the woods and grew quiet. From his belt, the man withdrew a long knife, took a cautious look around, then went on his way following the same footpath Grunt had used.
Was this the prey Fajer waited for? If so, Grunt needed to hurry if he was to get the man’s daughter to the right place at the right time. His steps quickened as he rushed over the bridge, then followed the road leading to the communal area. He stayed hidden within the trees lining the narrow footpath. The mill sat right next to the water. She would either be in the house, doing chores or maybe in the mill that hadn’t turned in several months from the looks of things.
Dust flew from the narrow doorway, pushed out by a broom clutched in the hands of a beautiful maiden. Grunt paused, watching her. He’d seen images of the mill family in the all-seeing globe, but they were mere shadows of the real humans the device reflected. A device that Grunt was sure Fajer had stolen from a Curian.
His master insisted it was a gift, but he knew better. Curians didn’t offer gifts to anyone outside of their clan. More than likely, his master had slit the unsuspecting Curian’s throat and stolen what he could off his dead body.
Eventually, Grunt intended to get that globe back. It was Curian-made and belonged to someone with Curian blood. Like him.
The girl stepped outside and wiped cobwebs and dust from her clothing and long, blond hair. It reminded him of spun silk braided down her back. What did Fajer want with her? She couldn’t even be twenty cycles yet. Grunt’s stomach twisted over what that old wizard might do with such a young maiden.
For a moment, he considered walking away, except... he had nowhere else to go.
Even if he did walk away, Fajer would find another means to get what he wanted. Well, maybe she was one of those snooty girls that looked down their perfect long noses at everyone else. Maybe she was selfish and conceited, or demanding and cruel.
A butterfly tumbled past her bringing a delightful giggle from the girl. She followed it a few steps, commenting on how beautiful it was and wishing it a good day.
Grunt blew out a long breath followed by a curse. She didn’t seem like the ill-mannered type at all.
“Very well, let me think this through for a moment.” Grunt tugged at the thin beard covering his chin as he contemplated his options. If he did walk away, he’d be without home or sustenance. Once again, he’d walk the land as an outcast. At least with Fajer, he had an in with the other sorcerers in the region. Turning on Fajer now would label him untrustworthy. He’d have no hope of eventually joining someone else from the Brethren Order.
He cursed again. No, he needed to do this. He’d not let anybody, or thing, stand in the way of his ultimate goal. Especially not some stupid, young girl.
Who really cared what Fajer wanted with her? Grunt decided that he wouldn’t let himself care. And standing here debating and fretting was doing nothing but wasting time. If he didn’t have her near the tree at the appointed time, all this musing would be for naught.
Grunt straightened his back, smoothed down his blue velvet jacket, and stepped out from the shelter of shadows and onto the path leading past the mill. “Greetings this fine morning, lass.” He held up his hand.
As expected, she stepped back into the mill, holding the broom protectively in front of her. He tried not to chuckle over the absurdity of her using it to defend herself against him.
“Peace, dear child. I’m but a traveling entertainer passing through your fine village. Would your mill, by chance have any grain to trade? I own little, but perhaps I have something that might interest you.”
Her gaze darted right to the mandolin now tucked under his arm in plain sight. Ah, he’d guessed right about her interests. When she glanced at him again, he was taken aback by her green eyes that reminded him of a meadow in summer. She tilted her head slightly to the side, “I’m afraid there is no grain yet. What little is grown here is usually kept by those who grow it.”
Grunt folded his arms over his chest, making sure to keep the instrument in her sights. “Then why, may I ask, are you slaving away inside when there’s no point? It’s much too fine a day to stay inside a dusty and unused building. Don’t you think?”
“Indeed, yes, but there is hope that some might need our services. I see your mandolin has a broken string. Do you play it much?”
He fought to keep his mouth from forming a smile. “This old thing? I have played it some, but... I had hoped to trade it for food. You see, I’ve been traveling many days through those horrid woods. This isn’t a good season to find much sustenance, I fear. I was so relieved to come to your town.”
She bit her bottom lip, causing his heart to stumble for a couple of beats.
Silently scolding himself, he forced his thoughts to stay on task. “I can see by your expression that I have little hope of finding anyone willing to trade this old noise box for something substantial. Am I correct?”
Her shoulder jerked upward. “Yes, I fear you are, sir. And though I would love to trade for an instrument such as you possess, I fear we have nothing of equal value. Like most folks here, we are barely scraping by.” She continued to stare at him, her brows furrowed. “Oh dear, I do so hate to turn anyone away. Perhaps I can find a bit of bread, though I fear it’ll be stale. Or—”
“I noticed,” he interrupted, needing her to stop. She was willing to share what scraps they had? He swallowed down the lump forming in his throat and forbade himself to allow any feelings for the waif to surface. Emotions were a man’s ruin. Allowing his heart to feel would be his downfall. He’d not allow it.
“I noticed the tree behind your home. Is it yours?”
“Oh, the White Tree?” She set her broom against the wall beside the door. “It is on our property. It used to grow healing fruits that helped the people of Goia, but—”
“Yes, I know what a White Tree is for. It will produce fruit when in need so long as...” he left the rest unsaid, wondering if she’d finish the rule for him.
“I’m afraid it’s dying. I’m not sure why. It hasn’t produced fruit in ages.”
He held out the mandolin. “How about a trade, my dear? This for a look at your tree? All I ask is that you accompany me. I would feel as if I were trespassing if you do not.”
“But sir, I know for a fact there are no fruits growing or ready to be picked.”
“Perhaps I can coax it. As I said, when there’s a need, it will comply.”
It would also comply with the touch of a Logorian, which was the other half of his bloodline and his deepest, most dangerous secret of all. Nobody could ever know his true lineage, which was why he’d given Fajer a fake name, and one he intended to use from now on. He’d never share his true name ever again. Far as he was concerned, that name and his past were dead to him.
“Whether the tree produces or not, the mandolin is yours. My gift for your desire to help and for gracing me with your time on this busy morning.”
She smiled then and motioned for him to follow her. “I’ll only take it if you are able to find something to fulfill your hunger. I would like to see someone coax that tree to life, I’ve sorely missed watching it bloom this time of year.”
He followed her, enchanted by the brilliant smile that lit up her delicate face. He almost wondered if she weren’t born of the fair folks or was part-Being herself.
As he stood before the bare tree with its stark white branches and few remaining star-shaped leaves, visions of a pair of similar trees, much more vibrant than this one flashed through his mind. The other bountiful White Trees had hung over the golden throne where the Light King sat, waiting for him to approach.
Grunt shoved the memory out of his mind. No! Do not go there ever again. He would never bow to any authority. Never! For now, he tolerated Fajer’s attempts at control, but a time would come when he’d make his move and show his real power.
“What is your name, kind sir?” She asked as they headed around the mill toward the piece of land behind their home.
There was a stone cook-stove directly behind their house. Did they also control that? At one time, her family must have been quite well-to-do. Past the small cottage, one of those Meeting Halls stood in disrepair. From the dark windows, it seemed abandoned.
No wonder Fajer had picked this town. It was the kind he liked to come into, offering his services and causing the people to be indebted to him. Then they’d become his slaves.
Did he have such plans for this tiny town? Normally he would share those plans. So why was the sorcerer’s interest settled only on this young girl?
No matter how hard Grunt tried, he couldn’t fathom his master’s reasonings. “Most call me Grunt. It suits me, I suppose.”
Her mouth dropped in surprise. “No, it does not! I would never take you for someone like that. You are much too refined.”
Why did it please him that she was indignant over the nickname? What did it matter? He chuckled but didn’t dare to look at her earnest face. “And what, may I ask, is your name, kind lady?”
He examined the tree, looking for any bit of life remaining. It was close to expiring.
Good.
The sooner, the better. He was almost reluctant to use his charms on it but would need to do so in order to keep her occupied. Hopefully, Fajer would succeed quickly and send Marlin to his rescue.
If the father was as gullible and good-hearted as his daughter, Master should have no trouble coaxing what he wanted from the man. Grunt only needed to keep her here a short while longer.
Finally, he turned to her and found she watched him with a wary smile.
She quickly ducked her head, staring at the ground as she said, “My name is Kardia. My family is of the White Horse. I was born here in Goia. Too bad you come now instead of when it thrived and was a wonderful place to live.”
Grunt found a leaf tipped with green. Perfect. “It happens, I’m afraid. The little hamlets that border a Regent’s jurisdiction are usually forgotten. He almost mentioned having his Master come to help but stopped himself. Fajer had never said he intended on taking over this village. His only interest lay in the girl.
But why?
There didn’t seem to be anything special about her. She was much too...kind...and good, for Master’s tastes.
Pinching the tip of the leaf, Grunt concentrated on wishing the branch to grow. Produce, he commanded it with every bit of authority he could muster. It would obey him. Or at least, it would obey his Logorian blood. His Curian side would help, too. They were supposedly masters of creating things out of nothing, from what he’d heard. The Curian Elders never allowed him into their precious Halls of Knowledge to find out exactly what they were capable of. Or what he might be capable of.
However, he knew when he came across a relic created by them, such as Fajer’s all-seeing globe. His blood would scream out from within his veins, MINE!
Someday it would be.
Kardia, who gave away her name much too easily, gasped when the twig sprang to life between his fingers. It grew into a bud. He concentrated harder. Produce more!
Electricity burned through his arm, singeing his fingers, but the bud opened to a beautifully fragrant star-shaped flower. The scent reminded him of the glowing, cobblestone streets of Aloblase, of the scent lingering around the throne room.
His eyes burned with scalding tears that he quickly blinked away. Do. Not. Think about that place!
It no longer existed to him.
“Oh, look,” the girl exclaimed. The flower withered and formed into a red fruit. He waited until the fruit grew to about half its normal size before releasing the branch. That was big enough. More than enough. With dismay, he realized he would now have to eat it.
Forcing a smile on his face, he handed the instrument to the girl. “A deal is a deal. I now have something to, um, eat. So, in trade, this now belongs to you.” He gave a bow as he presented it to her.
She slowly took the mandolin in her delicate hands. Her fingers ran over the fingerboard, then grasped the broken string. For a moment, he thought he saw a slight glow between her thumb and forefinger, but she jerked her hand away too fast for him to be sure.
“It’s so lovely. What fine wood and such craftsmanship.” The head had been carved into the shape of a ram with curling horns. “I...I can’t possibly accept this.”
To his surprise, he wanted her to have it. If any other person had held the instrument, he probably would have taken it back gladly, but the loving expression on her face as she examined every inch and carefully plucked the remaining strings made him secretly hope someday he’d hear her play.
If Fajer got his way, would he let her live? Grunt hadn’t thought about that. What if he planned to ... a need to protect her rose up in his heart.
Perhaps it was good that he stayed with the sorcerer for now.
“It’s yours, please accept it. You’re right, it is a fine instrument and needs someone who will be willing to care for it properly. I believe you’ll do just that.”
She hugged it to her chest, her smile breaking his heart. “Thank you so much. I’ll cherish it forever. I’ve tried making my own a few times, but this.... This one is... yes, I’ll take very good care of it.”
He had no doubt. Plucking the fruit from the thin limb, he held the red, pear-shaped ball in his hand. Don’t think about it, just eat it quick. Maybe it would do him some good. That was the fruit’s purpose, wasn’t it?
“Well, thank you for allowing me to take from your tree.” He searched the surrounding trees for any sight of the blasted cardinal. What was taking so long? He wiped the fruit on the front of his shirt, biding his time. If he waited too long, he risked it turning bad and rotting in the palm of his hand. That would be horrible. The stench! Not to mention the stain it left behind.
Kardia, who still hugged the mandolin to her chest, watched him with mild curiosity. He offered her the fruit. “Would you like to half it with me?”
She shook her head. “Oh no, a deal is a deal, as you said. You must be so hungry having traveled so far. And I know this fruit will do you a world of good. Please, enjoy it. I had something for breakfast and will be fine until our dinner tonight.
With a nod, he bit into the fruit. Sweet juices filled his mouth and dribbled down his chin. For a moment he was able to close his eyes and enjoy the rush of strength, of peace, and a sense that all was right with the world. Greedily, he took another bite until only the seed inside was left. He spat the seed into his palm then gave it to her. “We shouldn’t throw that away.”
She nodded and accepted the thumb-sized oval shaped seed. “I’ve heard one should never throw away the seed of a White Tree. I’ll keep it somewhere safe.”
His mouth suddenly filled with the taste of bile. He gulped and hoped that blasted fruit would stay in his stomach. A loud chirp from a nearby tree caught his attention. Finally, Marlin. Time to go!
“Thank you, lass. I hope you enjoy your gift.” He bowed when she reached out and rested her hand on his arm. Her touch was soft, and her eyes brimmed with gratitude.
“What is your real name, kind sir? I know you are no grunt. Not after the wonderful thing you have just done. Please?”
He took a step backward until her hand fell away. His stomach roiled like a pot of burning stew. He needed desperately to get away from her and this place. Blast Fajer! This had better be worth it.
“The name I go by...” Fiery bile rose up his throat. “...is Darnel.”
With one more bow, he bid the maiden goodbye. Then he turned and bolted down the road until he reached the safety of the woods.
Soon as he was hidden within the foliage, he bent over and vomited the contents of his stomach. Sinking to one knee, he heaved a couple of more times until the fruit was completely out of his system. Yes, he’d been able to get it to grow. However, once eaten, it had known his deception and paid him back.
What else would today’s little performance cost him?
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Ablaze. If you enjoyed this story, please visit my webpage, leave comments, and sign up for my newsletter. Other ways you can help is to leave reviews, or share what you’re reading on Facebook and Twitter and Goodreads.
Have you read the other books in The White Road Series?
Check out novel length stories from The White Road Chronicles series, starting with
Illuminated: book one
Luminosity: book two
Emanate: book three
Radiance: book four
Ignited: book five
Ablaze: book six
I’m on all of these social networking sites and invite you to find me there.
Thanks again for reading my story, and I hope your own journey will lead you into the grandest adventures.
J.R Castle
About the Author
J.R. Castle, who also writes romance stories as Jackie Castle, looks for the extraordinary in every ordinary day that she experiences. She is the author of The White Road Chronicles a fantasy series, The Sentinel Archives for school-age readers, and newly released Madison Creek Bed & Breakfast romance series. She has also published articles and short stories in numerous magazines. She's enjoyed many crazy adventures from working as a hairstylist, to her bravest quest: teaching children in daycare and elementary schools. Eventually, she settled down to a somewhat safer pursuit of being a Story-weaver.
Now she lives in her comfortable Texas home where she spins marvelous tales and enjoys relaxing in the evenings with her husband Bob, their children, and grandchildren.
Her favorite pastime, besides reading, is traipsing through her imaginary worlds in search of another story.
Find out more about her shenanigans over at Castle's Story World. There you can also sign up for her monthly newsletter.
Visit Jackie at...
