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The ogre must’ve been twenty feet tall, a mountainous creature, with gray skin and small, watery eyes. Its hairless head was round like a boulder, and two sharp ears pointed from it either side, while tusks reached from its drooling bottom lip. It wore nothing except a dark brown loincloth made of fur, and in its meaty fist was a giant club.
The ogre was outside the temple, towering over a broken wall as it reached in to slam the club, and it was like a child throwing a tantrum. It roared when Cassandra threw a rock at its face, then slammed the club again and again with bright, vengeful glee, so that the already-broken walls of the old temple quaked and crumbled even further, raining debris on them and shaking the ground.
Cassandra and Gweneth were running back and forth, angrily hurling stones and yelling, trying to distract the monster as Selene ran forward to collect Zelda.
“Horsey!” the ogre bellowed, bringing the massive club down on the neighing horses. Calain yelled in fury and horror when the club – just missing Lucky—smashed Sunny, Cassandra’s tawny horse. There was a horrible whinny of pain, and when the club came away again (dripping dark blood), the horse lay in an indistinguishable pile of golden fur, bones, and flesh.
Cassandra let out a scream of rage such as Calain had never heard from her. Then, as if attacking her horse was the last straw, the sorceress-knight lifted her hands, and a stream of fire blasted the ogre straight in the face.
The ogre dropped its club with a mighty bang – Cassandra, Gweneth, and the horses scattered – and with its face aflame, stomped away bellowing, the earth trembling in its wake.
As Cassandra and Gweneth chased down the horses, Selene came to Calain, carrying Zelda close. Calain could see that Zelda was bleeding from her head. Her golden hair was stained red, her expression was slack, and Calain could feel that her heartbeat was barely a patter. She was draped over Selene’s arms like a broken doll.
Selene looked at Calain, her face covered in dust and tears. “Take her, Calain!”
Calain stood frozen, staring at Zelda through a sudden veil of tears.
“We must flee before the beast returns!” shouted Gweneth, running up and pulling her speckled stallion, Bron, along by the reins.
Cassandra had captured Lucky and Apple and was leading both horses by the reins as she drew near. “Calain is in shock,” said Cassandra to Selene. “You must carry Zelda yourself.”
Selene didn’t argue. She sat Zelda in Apple’s saddle (Zelda slumped forward, head lolling) and climbed up behind her.
Calain couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop staring at Zelda. Cassandra drew close to her and said soothingly, “Good Calain, you must sit your saddle. You must ride.”
Something in Cassandra’s gentle voice stirred Calain from her horror. She blinked, nodded, and climbed shakily into the saddle, taking up Arthur’s reins.
And then they rode, galloping hard through the marshland. They followed behind Selene, and all of them kept glancing at Zelda’s slumped body, wondering how much time they had before she perished of her head injury. The Solden Stones were not far, and from there on they would head north in search of Lowri’s cottage. If only the Aelwith Wilds would be merciful, Calain thought. Twice they were forced to stop and fighting off raids of goblins and a troll whose home they had galloped across unwittingly. Yet another ogre in the distance waved its club but appeared too lazy to cross the marsh water between them, and they hurried on.
“Gods be damned that your mother was mad enough to live on the edge of this place,” Gweneth growled when they had been chased for an hour by a minotaur, whose hooves shattered the earth in their wake.
But eventually, they passed the Solden Stones, which were little more than an endless row of stone pillars that stood randomly from the earth like bones. The pillars were all that remained of an old elven colosseum. They formed a giant circle in a muddy clearing, and Calain knew they were so large that what they could see of the pillars above the mud was only the very tip of them.
Another hour, two, then darkness had fallen, and they had come at last to the edge of the Aelwith Wilds, having traveled directly north from the Solden Stones. In the fall of darkness, they were riding by Cassandra’s wisp-light, still galloping, the horses foaming for water and heaving for breath. The yellow glowing lights of fireflies drifted from the grass, and here, the earth was less moist and much more solid, thumping firm beneath the trot of their horses’ hooves. The trees were also sparser, there appeared to be no monsters or beasts, and in the distance, Calain could see the silhouette of City Erhyrst.
Just when it seemed they would not find the cabin—and just when Gweneth was swearing and complaining again – they saw it. The little cabin stood just beneath an immense tree, made of thatch and logs of wood. Smoke was rising from the chimney, and a candle lantern stood in the window, glowing with narrow yellow flames. The Knights of Falcon dismounted, climbed the wooden step, and approached the cottage door, which was round, like an elven door.
There was a woven grass mat before the door, and Calain stared at it as her muddy boots touched it. She was still in shock from Zelda’s injury – not just from sorrow and fear but also because Zelda’s head injury had affected her in some distant way – and she was tearstained and shaking and afraid . . . Afraid of facing her mother.
Gweneth glanced sympathetically at Calain, then lifted her hand and knocked on the door.
There was a moment’s shuffling on the other side, the soft murmur of a voice, and then the door flew open. Calain looked down. There was her mother, only much older than Calain remembered her. Like Arthur, she had shriveled down into a little old person, with long gray hair and a wrinkled face. But her eyes . . . Her kind blue eyes were just the same as Calain remembered.
“Calain?” whispered Lowri, who was standing just as still with shock and emotion as Calain was. “You came!” she said happily and tears filled her eyes. Then she noticed the other knights, and her eyes went to Zelda, who was hanging limp in Selene’s arms. She touched a concerned hand to her mouth. “Oh, but what happened here? Bring her in! Bring her in!” she cried, stepping back to admit them.
Selene went first, then Calain, Gweneth and Cassandra all filed in behind her, and the door shut quietly behind them – of its own accord, which was strange, Calain thought.
“Over here on the bed!” cried Lowri, hobbling quickly to a small pallet against the wall. The narrow pallet was piled with wool coverlets and pillows.
Selene followed the old woman and laid Zelda’s limp body carefully on the low bed.
“I shall fix a potion for her at once,” said Lowri, going to the fireplace and setting her cauldron over it. She started rummaging in cabinets and pulling out armfuls of herbs and jarred ingredients. She did a double take when she noticed them all standing there staring at Zelda and nodded her head at the nearby table and the chairs that surrounded it. “Sit, sit!”
Calain moved shakily to the wooden table and sat in a chair. So did the other knights. And then they fell to looking around the cottage and watching as Lowri stewed her potion over the fire. Selene was staring almost numbly at Zelda, and Cassandra reached over and touched her shoulder. Calain saw there were tears staining Cassandra’s cheeks, Gweneth’s as well. Their hair was also tousled and flying, and their armor was stained with blood from having tried to help Zelda. Calain knew she probably looked much the same and suddenly realized they probably all looked shocking to Lowri, who indeed kept glancing at them in concern.
Gweneth dropped her face in her hands and sat that way for a long time. Calain wanted to do the same. The heaviness of the fear of Zelda’s death was weighing down on her. Instead, she distracted herself by looking around the cottage. It was a modest one-room home, with dried herbs hanging from the rafters, piles of books, baskets of fruits and dried roots. The room hardly had any furniture aside from a wooden bookshelf, the low bed Zelda lay on, and the small table with the four chairs.
Calain’s wet eyes went back to Lowri. “You live here alone, Ma?”
Lowri smiled. “We shall come to that in a minute. First, I need to know what caused the young woman’s injury.” She lifted a bundle of herbs and squinted at it. “It will make healing her much easier.”
“We were set upon by an ogre,” said Selene tonelessly, her eyes still on Zelda. “It smashed the temple we were in, and a brick struck Zelda on the crown.”
Lowri tisked. “The gods should damn me for asking you to come here! But I had no idea you would bring a lady.”
“Zelda is a sorceress of great power,” said Gweneth, finally lifting her tearstained face from her hands. She rested her elbows on her knees and sat forward as she said hoarsely, “We always did depend on her to heal our wounds, but now when she needs aid, we are helpless.”
Lowri looked at Gweneth kindly. “That is not true! You brought her here to me! And in doing so, you may have saved her life!” She smiled. “She is your lady, is she not? You are all in service to her?” Her inquisitive eyes went to Calain.
“Aye, Mother,” said Calain. “She’s the one I killed Ellanara for.”
Lowri nodded, tossing a handful of green herbs in the cauldron. She snapped a fat red root in halves and tossed it in next, then they watched as she stirred a ladle dramatically through the contents. “So she is Zelda, the one wanted by all of Eriallon. And these knights are your sisters in arms, who did help you escape Cilia’s so-called justice.” Her eyes went to Selene, Gweneth, and Cassandra. “Thank you for helping my babe! She hath my fiery temper and impulsiveness.” She laughed. “I suppose I am partly to blame for Ellanara’s death!”
The Knights of Falcon laughed as well, and Calain thought the atmosphere grew calmer. It was sinking in: Zelda was safe. Perhaps in only a few hours, she would be sitting up, talking and laughing with them.
When the potion was done, Lowri scooped a wooden cup through it and brought it to Zelda, tipping it against her lips. Zelda frowned and moaned as she feebly drank the contents.
“Can she hear us?” asked Selene, who was hovering over Lowri’s shoulder. “Is she conscious?”
“Just barely,” sighed Lowri. She glanced up at Selene with her kind eyes, took her arm, and patted her hand. “Come,” she said, leading Selene back to the table, “the healing potion will take some time, and hovering and wringing your hands will not speed up the process!”
Selene – still looking anxious and numb – sat at the table again and stared into space.
Lowri took up a broom and started sweeping the mud crumbs they had tracked in toward the door. “Are any of you hungry? I could throw something together.”
“Do not trouble yourself, fair lady,” said Cassandra.
Lowri shrieked out a laugh. “A fair lady, am I? Ha! I haven’t been fair nor a lady for quite some time, living out here in the bush!”
“You are not a sorceress, and yet, you survive this dangerous land alone,” said Cassandra with interest.
Calain frowned as she watched her mother sweeping. “Aye. And since when do you know herblore, Ma?”
Lowri smiled. “I did learn a thing or two from my wife. She enchanted the cottage, you know. To keep the monsters away, to keep me safe.”
Calain lifted her brows. “Wife?” She glanced around, looking for evidence that some other person lived there, but there was none. “Where is she then?”
Lowri smiled again, this time sadly. “She did leave five years before.” She laughed tonelessly and kept sweeping. “I suppose once I sprouted gray hairs and lost my charms . . . As if I was so very young when first we met! Ha!”
“She left?” said Gweneth in loud disbelief. “After all that? After you gave up your family for—!” Selene shushed her.
“No,” said Lowri with another laugh. She looked at Calain. “You friend is right: Eachna was a wicked woman,” she said with a grin, “but it was why I loved her. I do believe she kept me around to help raise her children. She couldn’t have been bothered to do it herself.”
“Children?” said Calain darkly. “How the devil many did she have? And how dare she put the burden on you!”
Lowri smiled. “I must take responsibility for my part in it, Calain. I was in enamored of her, child.” She glanced at Zelda, who was sleeping peacefully on the pallet nearby. “Much as you are enamored of your lady, I am certain. Eachna had two children, Brigid and Lyne, and I adored them.” She looked with soft eyes at Calain. “Much as I adore you.”
Calain almost scowled, thinking that if her mother had truly adored her, she would have found a way to take her from her father! But Calain had to remind herself that she was already at Falcon Isle when her mother left them. Lowri wouldn’t have stood in the way of Calain’s desire to become a knight.
“I am sorry you have been alone,” Calain told her mother. “You should have written to me.”
“And said what? ‘The woman I abandoned you for has left me, come and keep me company?’” Lowri looked up, raising her brows pointedly, then went back to sweeping.
“So you did leave me for a woman,” said Calain, realizing at last that she and her mother were more alike than she’d ever suspected. She knew her parents had had an arranged marriage. Such was the way in the little farming community outside Alleren. Her mother had been forced to wed Arthur, and they’d had Calain so late in life because she had refused for many years to lay with him. But then came a time when they realized they needed children to run the farm, and so Calain was born.
“Yes,” said Lowri heavily, “and I am not . . . proud of that. But there is a little more to the story. It isn’t as simple as my having running off. Nothing ever is when it comes to your father and I.” She shook her head.
Calain stood. “Then tell me, Mother. I came all this way to know the truth.” She brought her chair over to the fire and sat it there, beckoning Lowri to sit in it. Lowri seemed to have been avoiding that moment, but she set the broom aside and sat on the chair, as Calain had asked her. Calain sat at her feet near the fire, waiting.
“My girl,” said Lowri, smiling down at Calain and touching her red hair. “Please don’t judge your father and I too harshly.”
“I shall listen without anger, Mother,” Calain said, but her mother only laughed.
“You are my daughter,” Lowri said, smiling. “That means you shall likely storm off when I have told you all. Thankfully, I have your sorceress held hostage here, so I know you shall return.”
Calain smiled. Her mother had always been playful like this, but it was true she had a temper. There had been nights when she had yelled at Arthur for this or that, and Calain had hidden under her bed with Siobhan. Calain prayed her mother did not ask about Siobhan.
“Your father did lay with another woman,” said Lowri, and Calain tensed.
“He betrayed your honor!” Calain growled.
Lowri held up a hand for silence. “Now . . . because I desired only women and the marriage had been arranged, I felt no jealousy. But I was angry that he had gone outside the marriage while I was not permitted to, even though I wasn’t remotely attracted to him and suffered greatly for it. I did learn through tavern gossip that your father had lain with an elven lass out in Honione. A redhead like me! Your father was always such a lecher for the red. As you know, there aren’t many elves in Honione, so it wasn’t hard to find her.”
Calain stared in surprise. “You came all the way here just to find the woman my father did lay with?”
“Well, I had relatives here, mind you. So it wasn’t as if it was out of the way! It was how your father met the woman to begin with! We came here often to visit my sister, and Arthur snuck off and lay with her! Your father and I were married two decades before you were born, so this betrayal did last for years. And he didn’t stop while I was pregnant with you! You were born in Honione. Did you know that? You aren’t even an Eriallon native. This is your home.” Her eyes softened and she touched Calain’s hair again.
Calain impatiently gestured the affection away. “Mother! So you found the woman here while visiting with family? And what did you do?”
Lowri smiled. “I fell in love with her.”
Calain stared again. “You what?”
“I fell in love with her,” Lowri repeated. “And she did desire me as well. Eachna had put in the letter that she no longer wished to see Arthur, as she now favored me. That put a crimp in your ol’ pa’s swagger, I bet. I’d have given anything to have seen his face when his little friends read that letter aloud in the middle of the tavern.”
Gweneth hooted with laughter, clearly enjoying the story.
Calain frowned. “All that I can forgive, but why didn’t you come back for me? Didn’t you want me? Or at least wish to see me? I would have left the academy for you—”
Lowri’s eyes softened again. “Of course, I wanted to see you, sweeting. But your father had the neighbor write back that I had best not show my face on the farm again, or he’d shoot me. He didn’t want me anywhere near Falcon Isle either. And I believed him. He was good with a bow.”
Calain scowled. “So Pa ran you off and then lied to me!” She tensed, on the verge of springing up and perhaps running out the door, but remembering what her mother had said about her predictable temper, she kept her seat and clenched her fists instead.
“Don’t be angry with your father,” said Lowri gently. “He wanted to save face, so he told you a lie. What would you think of him if you knew the truth? I don’t mean that I condone the vile thing he did, but I understand.”
Calain cast her eyes down. She was beginning to realize her father wasn’t the good, noble man she had always seen in him. Instead, he was just a man. He had cheated on his wife, run her off, and then married a young woman less than half his age! Every time Calain thought of Siobhan – who was also attracted to women alone, same as her mother – lying under her father and crying her way through sex she did not want . . . No! She would never tell her mother about that! She would never tell anyone. The betrayal was hard enough to bear on her own. Witnessing her mother’s anger and disgust would only make it worse.
“So you just stayed here,” said Calain, trying to breathe the anger from her voice, “and lived with the elven woman all this time?”
“We weren’t alone. I helped raise her daughters, I told you . . . your sisters.”
Calain went still.
Lowri smiled. “Your pa fathered two girls on Eachna: Lyne and Brigid. Your half-sisters.”