“Uh… good day. Are you Lady Lynette Sweetspire of Redbriar Manor?”
Rosaline regarded the fat, squat, balding little man at her door with disdain. “No, I am her daughter, Rosaline. What is it that you want with my mother?”
“I’m here to deliver this royal decree—” the messenger began, holding out a neatly rolled and artfully stamped piece of parchment.
“Royal decree!” Rosaline squeaked excitedly, snatching it greedily from the little man’s hand. “Why didn’t you say so before? Come in.”
The messenger protested a few times but when faced with Rosaline’s stubborn self- centeredness, he eventually gave up; came in from the chilly air; and accepted the cup of tea which Guildria, who bustled clumsily into the room at the sound of Rosaline’s thrilled summons, offered him graciously.
“Er, Rosaline, this is addressed to mother, isn’t it? Shouldn’t we get her down here before we—”
Rosaline waved away her concern with a nonchalant flick of her wrist. “Of course not! This is an edict from the palace! She’ll understand.” Rosaline bypassed the chance to send a servant to fetch a letter opener for her – a testament to how truly eager and impatient she was to read the contents of the letter. Slitting a carefully manicured nail though the wax, she broke the scroll’s seal and spread it out eagerly. “Lady Lynette,” she read loudly and authoritatively, “Due to a vital, but strictly confidential turn in royal affairs, we require that your youngest daughter, Ellyra Alarken Sweetspire, be brought to the royal palace immediately upon your reception of this letter. The messenger who brought this letter to your dwelling will bring your daughter back to the palace with him. Do not fear – your daughter is in no danger and she will be returned to you in a matter of days, though it is possible that she will be asked to perform an honorable and necessary service to the crown that will require her extended absence.”
Though Guildria suspected that there was more to be read, Rosaline’s voice shook with fury and she threw down the letter without reading another word. “That little brat!” she raged. “Always stealing my glory! Always trying to overshadow us! Who does she think she is anyway, getting summoned by the king? What ‘honorable and necessary service’ could she possibly perform that I couldn’t do five thousand times better? It’s an outrage!”
“Rosie, I really don’t think that Ellyra even knew that—” Guildria tried to explain, but Rosaline was too wrapped up in righteous indignation to pay any attention to her sister. At this point Rosaline spotted the messenger, who cringed a little and tried to stammer out some dissuasive argument, but he was hopelessly overpowered by Rosaline’s ire.
“And you though that you were just going to waltz right up to our manor and give our mother this letter and take our stepsister to the castle with you? That’s right! She’s our stepsister. Our mother isn’t even her mother, but the king and queen didn’t care about that did they? Ellyra had to be the special one, didn’t she? Oh yes! It’s just not fair! She and that bratty father of hers had nothing before he married our mother! She’s the one who deserves all the credit! Us too! We’re her perfectly little angels! But of course the people at the castle weren’t thinking about that were they? Well you know what, you… you… palace lackey! She’s not even here! She ran off five days ago and we haven’t seen her since. Go home and tell that to the king and the queen!”
“Enough!” Rosaline was just winding down, but the jarring command was enough to make her shut her mouth. Lady Lynette had appeared at the top of the stairs and she was slowly beginning her elegant descent. A stern, but beautiful woman, her skin showed no signs of aging, despite the random streaks of silver in her long, luxurious, raven black hair. Her eyes were deep and brown, yet somehow piercing and severe, a contrast made more apparent by her fashionably pale skin. Though her taste in clothing was not as gaudy as Rosaline’s, her deep green gown had enough silver on it to signify her wealth. “May I help you, good sir?” She inquired graciously. “I am sorry if my daughters were rude to you.” She glanced at Rosaline, who huffed and looked the other direction. “It shan’t happen again.”
“Er. Yes. Well.” The messenger cleared his throat nervously a few times. “I… don’t suppose you heard the edict?”
“No.” Lady Lynette answered, stepping off the bottom stair and stooping to retrieve the fallen, and now a bit crumpled, decree. She scanned it briefly and her brow creased in concern. “I am terribly sorry, sir.” She began carefully, “But our beloved Ellyra has disappeared these past five days. We’ve only recently received a finch with a letter from her, but the bird was stolen by one of our servants who went off looking for Ellyra on her own – the idiot of a girl – and now we have no bearing on where she might be. The letter only said that she had begun to walk into the woods toward Raynar and got lost. She’s apparently safe, but she could be anywhere in the forest. Believe me, sir, we’ve been doing our best to retrieve her, but so far fortune has alluded us.”
The palace runner sighed heavily, as if this catastrophe was the very last bad thing he needed added to his day, drained every last drop of tea from his cup, and stood up. “Then you’ll just have to keep searching until you run into fortune.” He said tiredly. “The king is absolutely adamant that she be brought to his castle.”
“A thousand apologies, sir.” Lady Lynnette said humbly. “If there’s anything that we can do…”
“You can find her.” The little messenger reiterated. “But I doubt his majesty will trust your… uh… competence.’ He did his best not to look at Rosaline. “I’ll return to the palace myself and deliver the news. I’m quite sure that his majesty will send search parties of his own within a few days.” He bowed nervously to the assembled company and Lady Lynette helped him to the door.
“I’m sure that soon this little mishap will be straightened out.” She told him amiably as he mounted his horse.
“Mm. Yes. Let’s hope.”
As soon as the door was closed, Rosaline slipped back into her state of agitation. “Well I never!” She began. “Mother did you see the way that insolent man treated you? What could the king possibly want with prissy little Ellyra? It’s—”
Lady Lynnette held up a swift, silencing hand to calm her. “I don’t know, child.” She responded, just a hint of bitterness coloring the timbre of her voice. “But I’m sure when we find Ellyra and deliver her safely to the king he will be undyingly grateful. Perhaps… perhaps we can work out a deal with his majesty. But that is another thought for another time. First we must find the stupid girl. When did you last see her?”
Rosaline lifted a dainty finger to her mouth and thought. “She was cleaning my… her room and Guildria and I were… helping.” She said after a moment or two of concentration. “But that was days ago. I think she was going for a walk on the grounds after she finished lunch.”
“Rosie wasn’t she cleaning your… ow!” Guildria shook out the foot on which her sister had just stepped. “What was that for?”
“Oh, did I step on your foot? I’m sorry. I’m so clumsy today.” Rosaline returned through gritted teeth. As pretty and sweet as her sister was, Rosaline had quickly learned that Guildria had little to no capacity for half truths. Lies she could normally handle if Rosaline explained their object in advance, but Guildria had never had a good head for sophistry.
“Girls, girls! Enough of this foolishness.” Their mother cut in impatiently. “You said she went for a walk after she was finished with her chores, yes?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Guildria remembered brightly. “She told me that she might walk to Raynar if she had the time.”
“Raynar…” Lady Lynette repeated thoughtfully. “Yes, her letter did mention that she was going there.” She heaved a small, disappointed sigh. “I suppose there’s nothing else for it but to follow her.”
“Mother!” Rosaline gasped in obvious horror. “Follow her into the woods? Without a coach?”
Rosaline’s mother glanced at her sharply and her lips pursed in a scowl. “Have you any better ideas to offer, Rosaline?”
“Well I think that if she went to Raynar we should just take the carriage.” Rosaline said hotly.
“Except we don’t know if she’s actually in Raynar or if she got lost or sidetracked on the way there.” Guildria pointed out gently. “The best way to search would be to go directly into the woods.”
“Why can’t we just send servants?” Rosaline whined. “Isn’t that what we have them for?”
For a moment Lady Lynnette looked tempted, but then she shook her head slightly. “No, Rosaline, we must go after her ourselves. This matter is of utmost importance to the king, and who knows what rewards we could reap from her safe recovery. I won’t let Ellyra’s safety rest in the arms of mere chance.”
“But isn’t that what we were doing before?” Guildria pointed out uncomfortably.
“Why… yes, child.” Lady Lynette said sweetly. “Yes it was. I’m sure she would’ve come back on her own anyway. But that the king has summoned her, we can’t wait around for her to come back. We must take the initiative into our own hands to find her. Besides, if we don’t do something soon we may lose more servants to that God-forsaken forest. I’ve heard rumors among the servants that Tazil is planning to sneak off at night to look for his idiot daughter that stole our finch. Now. Enough talk. We must make ready to venture into the forest. Girls, I expect you to be in suitable clothing in an hour. I’ll talk to the cook and have her prepare something for our journey.”
*
Cypress opened his eyes, shuddered, and squeezed them tightly shut against the bright afternoon light. He was starting to understand how Cleven felt, though the beast’s eyes were only sensitive to firelight and to Cypress all light seemed poisonous. He shivered gently and groped for one of the many blankets that were covering him. They told him that his fever had broken last night, not that Cypress
was able to tell; he’d sweated through at least five blankets already and Ellyra had made it a personal goal to make sure that he got enough fluid in his body to keep him from dehydrating as he had a few nights previously. Last night he had been able to sit up and feed himself the soup that the ghosts had prepared for him, a task he had seemed impossible two days before, yet this morning his body seemed to be even weaker.
Why had the Sickness hit him so hard and so fast? Tam, faithful Tam, who had barely left his side through the whole messy ordeal, was suffering only a few sniffles and an intermittent cough, and even those symptoms had taken him four days of winglessness to develop.
A soft, pitiful moan escaped his lips and at once the sound of a scraping chair and light footsteps approaching met his ears. The voice that spoke his name was not one he recognized, however. It was sharper, crisper, and more businesslike than Tam’s voice, but it lacked the subtle gravelly quality of Cleven’s. When a second attempt at opening his eyes failed miserably, he managed to whisper a question. “Wh-who are you?”
“It’s Zayric.” the voice informed him tersely. “Cleven’s brother and the crown prince of Calassi. Cleven and the two girls are walking in the woods and your friend Tamarisk,” Cypress
flinched at the ugly emphasis that the prince put on Tam’s name, “left early this morning to buy some medicine in Raynar. He told us that he would be back by this evening. He insisted that you have someone living to watch you apart from just the ghosts, so I’m here watching you.”
Even through his haze of sickness, Cypress could sense the disdain in Zayric’s voice and he knew that the prince was only looking after him because his brother had asked him to. “Mm…” He managed in response, wishing he had the stamina to release Zayric from his unpleasant task, but knowing that everyone else would be upset with both of them if Zayric left prematurely. Cypress
listened as Zayric crossed the room a second time, but, to his great surprise, a few moments later he heard Zayric’s chair thump on the floor in relatively close proximity to the bed.
“I don’t know how you got to this castle.” Zayric said slowly, seeming to be thinking aloud. “The spell on it is supposed to make it impossible for uninvited people to find it.”
Cypress winced. “W… we’re ambassadors.” Cypress
managed to stammer, though his voice was weak and dry.
“Ambassadors?” Zayric reflected. “Open your mouth.”
Cypress did as he was told and felt a strong arm at his back, tilting his limp form up into a half sitting position, and a cup of cool water was pressed to his lips. Cypress
drank gratefully, though the water stung his burning throat so much that moisture formed in the corners of his eyes. “Th-thank you.” He managed to gasp when the water was gone and Zayric had eased him back on to his pillows.
“But if you’re ambassadors what are you doing here?” Zayric wondered.
Cypress almost didn’t answer; he got the feeling that the young prince was only speculating rather than actually asking Cypress the question, but this time Cypress actually had an answer to give him, one that he and Tam had worked on during their first night at the castle before Ellyra had been scared out of her mind by Cleven’s sudden appearance. That seemed so long ago, he thought ponderously, but then he remembered Zayric’s question and struggled to make an answer.
“Gl-Galandrin.” He managed delicately, recalling the alibi he and Tam had pieced together. “A-about the war…”
“Galandrin? Beyond the WesternMountains
? What have they ever had to do with us?”
“Nothing.” Cypress
intoned softly, coughing a few times. “Until now. Th-there… there is the possibility of,” he coughed a few more times, doubling over in pain. “War.”
“Mmm…” Zayric drifted into silent thought, and Cypress
had almost fallen back to sleep when another question brought him back to semi-consciousness.
“How did you get here?”
“We flew.” Cypress responded tiredly just before he succumbed to sleep. Thankfully, Zayric would probably accredit the answer that Cypress
offered to this question to his delirium or to his sleepiness. Even so, though, it was an answer that Zayric, in his bitterness, was not likely to forget.
*
Eliza laughed gaily as she watched Cleven dodge this way and that, crossing blades with Ellyra. The three of them had been practicing swordplay for the better part of the afternoon, and Eliza couldn’t be happier. Even as a beast, the prince was a marvelous teacher, informative and not scathingly critical. When he wasn’t covered in the shadows of the evening, the beast prince seemed almost more human than beast, Liza realized now, studying she watched his dance like movements of his nimble arms and legs. Though his body was covered in glossy brown fur, his face bore a distinctly human feel, apart from the two pointed ears of the top of his head and the slight depression that made his nose and mouth just flat enough to suggest catlike features but not the extent that they prohibited speech. His size, nearly twice that of a normal man’s, made him intimidating, and when he smiled the grin would expose painfully sharp, pearly teeth, but both of the girls had quickly learned that they had nothing to fear from Cleven, although he looked fierce, his gentle nature counteracted fear.
“That’s five!” Eliza called. “Well done!”
Ellyra leaned on her little practice sword, panting. “I think I’m done for the day.” She told Cleven apologetically, reaching down to take a long drink from the jug of water that the ghosts had refreshed several times throughout the day.
“You’re improving, Miss Ellyra!” Cleven said encouragingly. “Your blade definitely snuck up on me a few times.”
The Dove smiled happily and glanced over at Eliza. “Your turn?” she asked.
“Actually, we should probably head back to the castle. It’s twilight. Tamarisk should be returning shortly.”
Liza nodded. “Good plan. I’m hungry.”
“You sound like Tam.” Ellyra pointed out, giggling.
“No, I’d only sound like Tam if I’d said I was hungry every hour.” Liza returned slyly, picking up some of their equipment and carrying it back to the shed, Cleven and Ellyra following her with the rest.
“Poor Tamarisk! Don’t talk like that now, when he’s not here to defend himself!” Cleven chided them, though a hint of amusement was present in his voice.
“I’m he’d be laughing and agreeing with us if he were here anyway.” Eliza responded. “By the way, Cleven, I didn’t see you give him a finch before he left this morning. How is he going to find his way back?”
“Oh, don’t worry Miss Eliza, that won’t be a problem. The finches were only necessary at first. Before my father banished the remaining fairies from his kingdom, he had them cast a spell on the castle to make it impossible to find to those who are uninvited. My father saw it as a necessary measure to keep his people from fearing that I would attack them, so I was relegated here a little less than two years ago, after my… mishap. In any case, since Tam has my permission to come back, he’ll be able to find the castle easily, even in the forest.”
“Does that mean that even the king can’t find it?” Ellyra asked wonderingly.
“My father is one of the few people who can invite people here, but he chooses not to, for obvious reasons. I’ve invited Zayric, of course. I think that’s how you were able to get here, Miss Eliza; Zayric was with you and he had an invitation. Your idea to follow the finch Miss Ellyra sent you was clever, but by itself it wouldn’t have worked. It would’ve been awful if you hadn’t found Zayric.”
“Yeah, I guess if it wasn’t for your brother I’d still be wandering around in the forest.” She shivered a little. “I hope my parents haven’t gone out after me,” Liza realized, paling slightly in the growing twilight.
“Or mine.” Ellyra put in gloomily. “Not that they would. Even if my father were home I doubt he’d even notice I was gone.”
“Don’t talk like that, Lyra. Your father loves you, he’s just busy, that’s all.”
“He’s been away for four years, Eliza. Four years and not so much as a letter!”
Eliza sighed. “I’m sorry Lyra. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m sorry I snapped.”
“It’s all right.” Eliza took her friend’s hand and squeezed it tightly.
“I’m sure we’ll get you both home safe and sound very soon.” Cleven assured them. “Now let’s get inside before it gets much darker.”
*
“My feet hurt.” Rosaline complained, stumbling slightly over the imperfections in the pavement. Realistically, the little party hadn’t actually been walking for much more than an hour. Despite Lady Lynette’s many threats of what would happen to them if they were not ready within an hour, it was nearly evening before the little party so much as opened the front door, and when they did they found the little messenger of that morning, along with two of the king’s servants, just about to knock. The little party moved slowly and by nightfall they had managed to reach Raynar, but they had garnered no information about the lost little Dove. Rosaline leaned heavily against a little stall whose vendor apparently sold mysterious meat pies. “When can we stop, mother? I’m tired.”
“We can stop when we’ve found that brat of a child.” Lady Lynette snapped crossly, standing aside so a curly haired youth could pass through their little clot of people. “But now that we’re here we might as well get something to eat.”
The bald little messenger and both menservants fought to suppress groans. Three food related breaks had slowed their progress enough already, but by this time all three men knew better than to argue.
Rosaline moped around while Guildria bought three steaming meat pies, and when she bit into hers a look of disgust crossed her features. “This isn’t anything like the ones cook makes us at home.” Rosaline whined with displeasure, though she took a second bite out of it anyway.
“I think it’s rather well seasoned.” Guildria said brightly, munching happily on her own dinner and delivering the third pie to her mother, who accepted it with dignity despite her wrinkled nose.
“Stupid Ellyra.” Rosaline muttered through a mouthful of half masticated breaded meat.
“Don’t speak when you’re eating.” Her mother ordered sharply.
Rosaline swallowed. “Sorry mother. But it’s infuriating! Why does Ellyra always have to ruin everything?”
Lady Lynette opened her mouth to make a trite response when a man, the youth who had just passed by, ran up to them, his blue eyes bright with excitement. “Are you looking for Ellyra Sweetspire?”
“Why… yes. We are. I am her stepmother. Do you know aught of her?” Lady Lynette responded, failing to display the obvious confusion present in all five other faces.
“I do, madam. I’ll take you to her, at once. My friend Cypress
and I found her lost in the woods some days ago.”
“Excellent!” Guildria exclaimed, clapping her hands together in enthusiasm. “We’ll find her before the day is out!”
“Do you have a carriage?” Rosaline asked desperately, batting her eyelashes at this new, handsome stranger.
“I’m afraid not, my lady.” Tam replied with a slight shake of his head. “I depend on my own two feet to get me where I need to go. I’ve found they’re quite reliable.”
“Oh, yes, so do I.” Rosaline responded sweetly. “I walk absolutely everywhere.”
“No you—”
“No one asked your opinion, Guildria.”
“But Rosaline you—”
“Be quiet.”
Tam smiled at the assembled company. “By the way, I’m Tamarisk Tal’cass. Follow me, good ladies and sirs, and I’ll reunite you with Miss Ellyra before sundown this evening.”
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