Blue Rose and Raven: Chapter Sixteen

Marius and the Beast prepare to leave the manor.

The next day, we prepared to leave. We decided not to pack many supplies except for small amounts of bread or cheese. Our trip didn’t demand much. There was no reason.

            I dressed in my finest travelling clothes: Boots, a rugged jacket and shirt, a sturdy coat. The Beast wore a simple black cloak instead of something more ostentatious. I asked if she wished to bring something else besides the cloak. She said no. Again, there was no reason for anything else.

            “Hurry back, you two,” Finley said, his statue’s face a mask of concern. “It would get awfully lonely if you never came back.” Behind him, the other servant-statues bowed their heads and pouted with sadness. “We’ll keep the fires warm while you’re gone.”

            “Thank you, Finley,” The Beast said. “You have all been too good to me for all these years.” She pulled the cloak over her head. Her beak stuck out from beneath the hood.

            “The pleasure has been all ours, Mistress,” The daemon said graciously. The entire staff bowed deeply.

            We closed the great front doors. The main entrance of the manor stretched out before us. The trees, once barren and skeletal, were now filled with green leaves and blooming strings of flowers. The single tall lantern stood blazing its blue flame, no longer ominous. I could smell the bloom in the air, the leftover dampness of a new rain. I helped the Beast down the steps, careful to keep her cane from slipping on the stone steps. When her bird feet touched the dirt, I felt her body tense. Soon she relaxed as we continued our walk to the boundary of the estate. There stood the great stone horse, standing still and sentinel towards the forest. The Beast whistled at the statue. In response, it laid to the ground, cracks forming and healing along its joints. Hollow whistling breaths blew from its big nostrils.

            “After you, madame,” I said, gesturing to the saddle.

            “You go first. I insist.” She replied.

            I nodded and climbed on top. I helped the Beast to the back of the saddle. When we were both situated and ready, the Beast whistled again. The horse stood back up. We were high above the ground now. She kicked its stone flanks with a “Hyah!”. With a grinding of stone and a hollow whinny, we were off.

            Back through these dense woods. Back through darkness with long grabbing fingers by the dim glow of moonlight. The horse’s pace was even and steady, stepping over or crushing anything in its path. I looked down at our path and found to my amazement this massive animal left no footprints. There were snapped branches and crushed leaves, but otherwise the horse left no trace it had ever been here. Beyond the trees, large ragged shapes with cold malignant eyes moving circling us. The moonlight reflected off their dripping yellow teeth as they snarled fiercely, spoiling for a hunt. Angry, hungry growls filled the air. The horse continued its unbothered journey. I clutched the sides of the steed, frightened. “We have nothing to fear from them,” The Beast said.

            “What do you mean?” I whispered harshly.

            “They are protecting me.” She said solemnly.

            I nearly dismissed the idea as ridiculous. Then I understood. Another manifestation. “They keep everyone away so no one can find you.” I mused.

            “Exactly,” The Beast said.

            The truth of Beast’s curse became clearer to me as we rode on. Whatever magic she used to inflict this was still like what she used to create her music or what her family used to work their miraculous artworks. An elemental power created by emotion but channeled through the act of creativity. “Your emotions are powerful things,” I said, watching the wolves cautiously.

            “Do not remind me,” The Beast responded. “My power is too dangerous for me to be around others. I do not know what else I am capable of.”

            “Have you ever considered what could break the spell?” I asked. “If it was your sadness that caused this, then could something else break it?”

            “That is an optimistic thought, Marius. But it’s been a very long time since I’ve considered whether I could this. If there was a way, I would’ve found it by now.”

            “If only these things were so easy to fix.” I said as we continued our journey.

            The Beast said nothing. Her grip on my chest tightened in silent answer.

            We rode through the night. The odd hollow whistling breaths and bouncing gait of the horse was enough to keep me awake. Just when I felt my eyes closing, that horse roused me as if to say: pay attention. At first, I didn’t know what to focus on. The forest was impenetrably dark and dense with new vegetation. There was nothing to see except what was directly in front of us. Bent branches occasionally caught at my face and the Beast’s hood. A fly or stray spider web wrapped around my hair. In between those moments of discomfort, I started noticing small things about our journey. Specifically, I realized the horse was indeed following a path, albeit rigidly. Its sharp turns on specific parts of the forest and its seeming disregard for anything in its way only added to its strangeness. Then, with my eyes mostly adjusted to the shadows, I noticed something I never thought I’d see again: raven statues carved from black stone and choked by vines. Moonlight glinted off their obsidian surface, a tip of a beak or edge of a feather visible against the foliage. The sight reminded me of stories of buried treasure, of gold and gems hidden just under the surface of island sand. These statues roughly flanked the sides of the horse’ path, the darkness and trees sometimes obscuring them. Like a turning key, another truth fell into place. This is the path to the manor, or it was. Elaine’s story was true, so far. The path hadn’t been lost; it was always there. It was just hidden, obscured by time, the Beast’s enchantment, or a combination of both. And if this place had become a legend to the villagers, how long had the Beast been confined there? It was decades, at least. Or more. Imagining time passing so quickly and barely noticing filled me with a deep nameless dread. An entire lifetime could’ve passed. But the Beast wouldn’t have ever known. I hoped no such time had passed since I’d left home.

            The smell of burning firewood and home cooking gave me pause. I squinted into the dark and saw the golden light through small windows. My heart leaped with joy. I looked to the sky and saw the stars and moon had disappeared while faint sunlight caught on distant clouds. I turned to the Beast. “I think we’ve made it,” I whispered to her hooded form. “And it’s barely morning!”

            “It is,” She replied, looking around nervously. “We must find a place out of sight. The horse will draw attention.”

            “Once we get closer, we’ll find somewhere. There’s bound to be a hiding place.” I assured her.

            We drew closer to the village. A strange relief washed over me as I saw the little shops and houses again. Immediately I saw the bakery and the carpenter’s shop. The scent of sawdust reminded me of Connie. There also was the giant raven statue at the center square. The horse walked directly up to it. The statue’s beak was directly in my face. Even on this giant golem-horse, the statue was as massive and imposing as ever. 

            For a moment, I realized I didn’t know where my family’s new home was located. But as I looked around at the houses. Many of their windows were dark, to my relief. Then a memory, or rather a memory of a dream, bobbed to the surface of my consciousness.

            A house on this street, I thought, remembering scattering leaves. There were children running. There were four people in�"My eyes found a nice townhome between two similar houses near the village square. There. I blinked once, twice. A dream. Yet it was real. Or was it a premonition of this moment? I hadn’t the time or energy to speculate on the metaphysics of it all. “This is the place,” I said, pointing to the townhome.

            The Beast nodded. “And where will we put the horse?”

            I scanned around. “It’s a bit large to hitch to a post.”

            The Beast thought for a moment, then said “I know,” raising a finger. “Just by the house. It needs to be somewhere someone can’t run into it.”

            I was about to ask why when the Beast kicked the horse. The steed strode to one of the gaps near our house. She kicked it again and it laid down in the dirt. Then I watched in amazement as the surface of its stone body swam like millions of tiny fish and reset itself to match the appearance of the alley and the dirt. Its hooves gained little tufts of grass. Its head and body turned the exact shade of brick and wood of the adjacent houses. I realized why this seemed so familiar: camouflage. There were animals of distant jungles or strange sea-life who mimicked their environments perfectly. Now I knew horses could do the same.

            We dismounted the horse, with me getting off first and helping the Beast off next. She crouched by the horse in the darkened alleyway and leaned on her cane. “What is your plan?” She whispered.

            “We can rest here for a little while. Then I’ll knock on the door. Then after I’ve explained everything, I’ll get you.” Apprehension gripped my stomach. “As for the next part, I’m not sure how that will turn out.” I was honestly worried as to whether that part of the plan would pan out as I hoped.

            The Beast rubbed her feathers beneath her hood. “That is what I am most afraid of. I would rather hide here. This cloak makes me as good as invisible.”

            “That does sound useful,” I ventured. “All of your little magic tricks are amazing to watch.”

            The Beast grunted, amused. “Simple tricks. They become quite mundane after too long. But there are other tricks I wish I could do.” She pointed a talon at the enlightening sky. She stared at the sky, nascent sunlight reflecting in her shining eyes.

            As the darkness disappeared and morning spread across Amersot, sleeping people stirred from their slumber. Shutters flew open. men and women walked the streets to their trades. Horses pulled rickety carts. Dogs barked. Children ran and laughed. We sat together and absorbed the vibrancy of the awakened village. I smiled as the light of the sun warmed my body. I watched the Beast watch the rising sun. A smile tugged at the corner of her beak. Through her strange visage, I beheld a childlike wonder written on her face. A single tear rolled down her feathered cheek. The sun’s light twinkled on it as it fell.

Author's Note

General thoughts please.