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Chapter 9

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Little Aereth was barely a week old and already crawling around the castle. The Knights of Falcon were shocked but made haste to sew the child a tunic and breeches so she wouldn’t scrape her knees and a bonnet to protect her little head from the sun. Selene was the best seamstress of the group, so she made the clothes with Cassandra’s aid, while Gweneth carried the child on her shoulders as she patrolled the battlements and told her stories about the realms.

The knights didn’t seem to realize it, but Aereth was fully aware of most everything they said. She didn’t understand the words at first, but the emotion helped convey the meaning, and before long, she could understand full sentences and even read a little.

Aereth was rapidly growing and evolving, and the poor knights could hardly keep up. She robbed them of their sleep all night, often waking up screaming and disturbing the knights who weren’t on watch. She needed more nourishment than the average child and grew out of her clothes almost overnight, so that the knights were constantly sewing, feeding, and changing swaddling.

By week three, the knights had circles under their eyes. They sat in the old courtyard together as Aereth crawled happily through the wild flowers, which were overgrown with weeds. Cassandra was washing soiled swaddling in a basin, her sleeves rolled up as she scrubbed it against the washboard; Selene was sewing Aereth a new pair of breeches; and Gweneth was supposed to be keeping an eye on Aereth, but she kept getting distracted by the conversation. Gweneth and Selene were sharing a stone bench that looked ancient while Cassandra sat on a low stool beside the washbasin, scrubbing serenely away.

“But how is it possible?” Selene was saying as she frowned on her sewing. “At this rate, she’ll be a child next month!”

“She was conceived through a magick potion, according to Zelda,” said Gweneth pointedly. “I suppose it’s possible in the same way it’s possible we can punch holes through stone.”

“Good way to bloody your hands,” laughed Cassandra. But her gray eyes grew somber as she said, “Zelda has been gone far too long. The time may have come to act.”

“And do what?” demanded Gweneth. “We cannot ride off into peril with the child – Get back here, Goblin!” Gweneth said with a laugh and dragged Aereth back by the seat of her breeches.

Aereth pouted. There was an old pond nearby and it was whispering, calling to her. She wanted to crawl to it, but Gweneth was watching, so she picked up the wooden horse she had discarded. Gweneth had carved it for her, but she was bored with it. She idly stuck it in her mouth.

“Two of us could stay here with the babe,” said Cassandra, “and one of us could strike out for Alleren, try to discover what has become of Zelda. She could be imprisoned there for all we know!”

“If only we were Bound to her, we would know if she were ill or well,” said Selene heavily.

“We can’t let Cassandra keep martyring herself,” Gweneth said. “I shall make the journey to Alleren, and you two shall stay. Zelda won’t be too fussed if I am slain.”

“This isn’t the time to jest!” snapped Selene.

“Who is jesting?” Gweneth protested.

The knights continued their anxious conversation and didn’t appear to be paying attention to Aereth. Now was her chance. She set off through the grass and weeds at a quick crawl.

“Yes, closer, child!” called the voice from the pond, whispering, hissing urgently.

Aereth finally reached the pond and knelt on the edge of the water to look in. It was cloudy, covered in a skin of twigs and dead leaves. But as Aereth watched, a space cleared in the center of the pond to reveal a woman’s smiling face.

The woman in the water was beautiful. She reminded Aereth of her mother, for she had pink lips and long golden hair. But very long pointed ears reached from either side of her face, and her eyes were a vibrant green. They were hungry, calculating eyes and not like Zelda’s gentle blue eyes at all.

Sensing she was frightening Aereth, the woman in the water smiled, her eyes softening as she reached up and offered Aereth a piece of fruit. Aereth didn’t know what it was, but it was a soft piece of plum. Aereth only knew it was food and gazed at it hungrily as it rose from the water before her. She was tired of goat’s milk and honey and bread . . .

“That’s right,” said the woman in the water. “Take it, child.”

Aereth snatched the soft bit of plum and crammed it in her toothless mouth. The smirking face in the water disappeared. Aereth didn’t even notice: the food was delicious! She could still taste its sweetness on her tongue. She sucked the juice from her fingers – and screamed when her stomach burned with pain, blood flying from her mouth. Behind her, the knights scrambled frantically to their feet.