Every inch they travelled shaved precious time off the mage matron’s life. Age crept up, turning her hair from grey to white and adding extra sag to wrinkles that were previously only just about to form. Sheer will kept the veil covering their movements alive. But will alone was not enough to shield them for long. Even the most adept of mages required rest.
Violé glanced back at her aide. “What have you done?” The mare turned, moving her closer. One hand caressed the face of a stranger.
“What needed to be done,” Punella replied. “I am afraid this is as far as my magic can disclose your location. We must travel in the open from here in out.”
“You sacrificed too much,” Violé complained. “I am safer with you by my side. With you gone what would become of me?”
“Fear not, my princess,” Punella replied, eyes fluttering to stay open. “I would see you happy before my life is spent.”
“You are the only family I have known,” Violé whispered, hidden eyes tearing. “I could not be happy without you.”
Her matron slept, whispering softly the names of those already lost in the war. Violé exhaled, warm breath freezing as it met the dropping temperature of the air around them. A cold front was moving in. With no aide to help, and no foresight to guide, she was alone to decide how their party was to proceed. For the first time, life asked for a decision and only her lips could provide the answer
The princess slowed the horses to a leisurely pace, offering a pat of gratitude here and there along the way. They too had been strained under the pressure of the escape. She didn’t know much about the world outside the castle, but the mares had been a constant in her life. Anyone with knowledge of animals knew asking more of the beasts than they’d already given was a recipe for disaster.
The wind howled, wrestling leaves from branches overshadowing their route. Light faded—darkness rising. Two yellow eyes glowed from the knot of an old tree; the hoot of their owner warning of danger ahead in a language the princess knew nothing of. The horses added their own cautions, but they too went unheard
Punella stirred. “What is it, girl?” She straightened her posture, surveying the area. “Why aren’t we farther along? We should be to town by now.”
“The horses were tired,” Violé explained. “I was worried about their health. If they were to fall, we would be left on foot.” She caressed the side of her mare’s head. “And I would be saddened by the loss.”
“Foolish girl,” Punella huffed. “Their lives are nothing compared to your own. You are the only one here who matters. The path at night is dangerous and I have not the strength to hide us completely.”
“Dangerous in what way?” Violé questioned, chuckling. “I haven’t seen hide nor hair of beast nor man since we left the kingdom. There is nothing to fear.”
“Except us,” a man snickered, pulling a sword from its sheath.
Punella grasped the princess’s hand. “Skin to skin. Age to age. We are the same.” Weary eyes smiled at her charge.
“What do we have here?” another bandit asked, stepping out of the bush. “Two women on a stroll?”
“We are elderly,” Punella complained, “and have lost our way. We are of no use to you or anyone else.”
The tip of the first thief’s sword pushed the hood from Violé's head. “She isn’t kidding. This one must be nearing a century in years. What do you boys want to do with them?”
“Dismount,” the bandit ordered, glancing over the flies his web had caught. “You two get a pass this time. Go home and die in peace.” He grabbed the reins to both horses.
“Wait,” Violé called out. “Our horses.”
“My horses,” the bandit corrected, tipping his hat. “Call it a toll for using my road. I suggest you move on before I change my mind about allowing you to pass.”
“Come,” Punella ordered, linking her arm with the princess’s. “We best start the walk. It’s a long one.”
“But...”
“No buts,” Punella interrupted. “We walk away with our lives. Be grateful we still have them.” Her eyes dimmed, magic failing. “We need to move fast. I can’t hold the illusion for long. Don’t look back.”
Violé glanced down at her hands, watching spots and wrinkles appear and disappear before her eyes. “You used magic again.”
“There was no choice,” Punella replied. “There are some fates worse than death. At the hands of those men, you would have suffered a thousands times over. Trust me, walking away is a better solution.”
Violé tried to pull away. “My mother’s jewellery,” she cried. “We can’t let them have it.”
Punella's grip tightened, leaving marks on Violé's arm. “It’s too late. This is the price you pay for saving the mares from death.”
“What will become of them?” the princess asked, tears streaking down her cheeks. “Will they be treated well?”
“Fear not,” Punella consoled her charge. “Men such as those respect the lives of horses more than their own kind. They will be well taken care of. You and I must hurry. There is still forest to clear.”
Weary muscles ached straight through to the bone. Punella staggered, feet scuffing in the dirt, refusing to be lifted to move ahead. Their roles had switched. Now the princess dragged her aide along by the arm, forcing her to keep moving forward. They’d passed the last of the trees sometime ago, just before the moon and sun negotiated a boundary change. From that moment on, open fields were all they’d seen.
Punella's mouth hung open, taking in shallow breaths of air. The temperature had risen enough to hide when she exhaled, still her fingers remained numb, tinging blue from the cold. “You must go on without me.”
“I won’t,” Violé declared. “We are going to find a place. You promised you wouldn’t leave me, remember?”
“I have but one spell left in me, child,” Punella advised. “If that it could be traded for a good life for you, I would gladly do so.”
“No,” Viola exclaimed. “I order you not to use it. As your princess... as your daughter, I beg of you, stay.”
“I am but a burden to you,” Punella huffed, gasping for air. “The age of the craft has caught up to me. Allow me to give you one gift.”
“Not yet, please,” Violé begged. “See me happy for yourself.” Their procession halted. “Look! A farm. We can make it there. Maybe they will allow us rest.”
“Be wary, child,” Punella advised. “We know not what character the owner has. Until we do, we best not ask too much of them.”
“I will be cautious,” Violé promised. “We need only stay until you are strong enough to move again. Perhaps they will have a sip of water for two weary travellers.”
“So you remember the stories I told you as a child,” Punella chuckled, the laughter turning to a cough.
“I could never forget those sleepless nights,” Violé admitted. “I never thanked you for being there for me.”
“Thank me not,” Punella said. “I would have done anything for your mother.” She side-eyed the princess. “And for you.”
Chapter 6
Three knocks on the door seemed ample to announce a stranger’s arrival. Violé glanced back at her aide perched on an old stump. No answer didn’t bode well for their situation. White knuckles prepared to bang one more time, as the door opened.
“Please, sir,” Violé blurted out, head hung down in respect. “My mother has fallen ill. Could we trouble you for a place to rest until her strength has recovered? It would only be for an hour or two.”
The man at the door glanced over the princess’s shoulder. “Women on foot? Where are your horses?”
“They were taken from us, along with all our possessions,” Violé responded. “Thieves left us with nothing but our health. I fear even that is fading.”
“Bring her in,” he ordered, leaving the door open. He nodded at the table the moment the two entered. “It’s a wonder they let you go at all.”
“They only looked under my hood,” Punella sno
rted. “They believed us to both be of the same age.”
The man’s eyes twinkled. “That explains it,” he chuckled. “No one ever said thieves were smart. It’s lucky for you they aren’t, I suppose. Tell me, where were you heading to?” He placed some crusty bread on the table.
Violé licked her lips, eyes widening at the sight of food. “May I?” Her stomach grumbled.
“Please,” the man replied.
That was invitation enough. One hand ripped a thick piece, her teeth doing the rest of the tearing. Crumbs fell, covering her cape.
“War left us refugees from our home,” Punella advised. “We lost everything we escaped with when the bandits took the horses.”
“I’m Edward,” the man said, watching Violé devour the bread with star-struck eyes. “You can stay here as long as you have need.”
“Thank you, Edward,” Punella replied, alternating her gaze between the two. “Do you live alone?”
“Yes,” Edward answered. “My parents passed last winter, leaving me to tend the farm on my own.”
“That must be difficult,” Punella said. Water held by a shaky hand spilled on the table before reaching her mouth. She placed the cup down again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a mess.”
“It’s just water. Here, let me help.” He lifted a fresh cup to the matron’s lips. “Drink. You can’t gain strength if you don’t.”
Violé watched as the man tended to her aide with the same care she’d received from the woman most her life. “You are good at that.”
Edward glanced over at the princess. “I took care of my parents when they were ill. I learned a thing or two about how to care for elderly patients.” Their gazes remained locked long after the words finished.
The door blew open, a robin flying in. Perched on the table, it alternated glances between Edward and Violé, its song too sweet to interrupt. Once the last note was sung, it flew back out again.
“That was strange,” Edward chuckled. “I’ve never seen a bird act in such a way before.”
“Then you haven’t seen many birds,” Punella sighed. “That one brought me the message I was hoping for.”
“And what might that be?” Edward asked.
“That everything is going to be okay,” Punella answered. “A robin is the bringer of good tidings. I can rest easy tonight, knowing the future is in good hands.”
“Speaking of rest,” Violé interrupted. “Is there a place where my mother could lie down for a while?”
“Of course,” Edward replied, motioning for the women to follow him. “I only have the one spare bed...”
“We can share,” Violé blurted out. “I’ll get her settled.”
“I’ll fetch some extra blankets,” Edward offered.
“Thank you,” Viola said, watching him leave. She turned to her aide, already lying on a mattress stuffed with hay. “Are you comfortable?”
“I am,” Punella whispered, “but very weary.” She eyed the princess staring at the door. “He’s a fine man.”
“He seems very nice,” Violé agreed, a smile growing larger by the second. “It was kind of him to let us stay.”
“Yes,” Punella agreed, taking her charge’s hand. “You look happy. Here you could have a good life.”
“Don’t you dare cast a spell on him,” Violé complained.
Punella chuckled softly. “There are no spells that can force love. If there were, someone would have cast it on your mother and father. That is the one area of life we must all figure out on our own.”
Violé nodded. “Do you think...” She glanced back at the door.
“Yes,” Punella replied. “I think he fancies you as much as you do him. He will take good care of you.”
“How do you know?” Violé asked.
“The robin told me so,” Punella admitted. “Its song was for the two of you and good things to come.”
“Will you teach me to hear the voices of animals?” Violé requested. “I want to know magic.”
“Right now I need to rest,” Punella said. “Leave me and talk more with your Edward. The two of you have much to discuss.”
Violé nodded, smiling. “Are you sure you don’t need me? I’m not very good at being a nurse-maid, but I can get you a drink or some food.”
“I’m fine,” Punella said, forcing a smile. “Go and enjoy the fruits of youth. Time is the one thing we can never get more of.”
“I’ll be back in a bit to check on you,” Violé said, closing the door.
The smile fell from Punella's face. “Goodbye, my princess,” she whispered, eyes tearing. “I call upon the powers of my ancestors. I call upon the gods and goddesses. I call upon the power within me. I give my last breath so that Violé, daughter of Deirdre and Randelf, shall live out her days happy and free from the grasp of both mages and dragons.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Deirdre’s form said, holding out an ethereal hand. “You have done well by my daughter.”
“I only wish I could have done more, milady,” Punella replied, taking her place in the spirit realm. “She will never know her gifts. There is no one to perform the ceremony.”
“No,” Deirdre agreed. “It’s true. Without the transfer, she will experience nothing more than the feelings of an empath.”
“I had packed your royal jewellery in case I fell before my time,” Punella admitted. “But it was lost and now I fear...”
“It is nothing but worthless rocks in the hands of anyone but a female blood relative of my own,” Deirdre said. “If she does not touch them, they will not activate. We need not worry about that happening. Once the thieves examine them closely, I’m sure they will be tossed aside and lost to the world forever.”
“Is that what you want for your daughter?” Punella questioned. “A life without magic?”
“It is for the best,” Deirdre replied. “The clans are destroyed. Only the odd straggler survives. There is no place for magic outside the cover of our beloved valley. It would only prove to frighten the land of men. Violé will be happier without the gifts of her bloodline.”
“Can I stay and guide her?” Punella asked.
“Our time is finished,” Deirdre answered. “I only came to escort you to a new life, knowing it would be hard for you to leave this one. There we will wait to be given a new identity. Violé will find her own way. Life isn’t as difficult as we make it seem. She’ll be fine. She is a princess, after all.”
Punella glanced at her lifeless body one last time. “She’ll be sad.”
“We are all sad when we lose someone we love,” Deirdre said. “Were you not sad when I passed over?”
“Yes,” Punella admitted, “but she is still just a child.”
“Only in your eyes. To everyone else she is a beautiful young woman. You brought her up well,” Deirdre said. “Have faith in her and let go. Grief is a part of the natural order and one you can’t shield her from.”
Punella nodded, blowing a kiss at the closed door. The two women held hands, their essences fading into nothing.
Chapter 7
Centuries later...
“Surprise!”
Violet jumped backward, one hand covering her chest. “I thought we agreed no celebrations,” she complained.
“No,” Carla snickered, waggling a single finger back and forth, “you were the only one who said no parties. We never agreed.”
“Besides,” Heather added, “it’s only the two of us. It’s not as if we invited the whole block or anything. I think you can handle it.”
“I hate birthdays,” Violet pouted, sinking into a seat at the table. “Why do we celebrate getting that much closer to death, anyway? It’s stupid.”
“Most people don’t think of it that way,” Carla sighed, sitting beside her best friends. “We like to consider it as an opportunity for friends and family to express their gratitude for our existence.”
“Family,” Violet scoffed. “I don’t even know who my real family is, remember?” Her head ban
ged on the table.
“That’s not true,” Carla argued, rubbing her friend’s back. “You had two great parents, who did everything for you. They gave you the best memories any child could have.”
“Until they died and I found out I was adopted.” Violet’s head rose, her long, curly black hair covering a pathetic expression. “Why wouldn’t they tell me? Why leave a piece of yellow paper to break the news? My whole life was a lie.”
“Maybe because they were afraid of how you would react,” Heather blurted out. “What?” She exchanged glances with Carla. “They weren’t wrong. She didn’t take the news well. They probably knew she’d freak out.”
“It’s not the being adopted, so much as them not telling me,” Violet pouted. “I thought I knew who I was. Now I feel as if my life is one big joke. I have no clue who I am supposed to be.”
“You are supposed to be you,” Carla said. “Finding your biological parents won’t change that.”
Violet’s mouth hung open; eyes slanted and head shaking. One finger pointed in front of her. “What if I need a blood transfusion or bone marrow transplant? Did you ever think of that?”
“That’s not going to happen,” Carla replied, rolling her eyes. “Besides, I didn’t say you should stop looking.”
“If she did, our gift would be pretty useless,” Heather snorted. “Hey!” Two lines formed between her eyes as a result of a swat to the back of her head. “What was that for?”
“Ruining the surprise,” Carla huffed.
“What did you two do?” Violet asked.
“Go on,” Carla said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You look like you are about to burst.”
“Really?” Heather squealed, jumping up and down on the spot. “Okay.” Her hands clapped once, remaining clasped together. “We were trying to figure out the perfect gift for you, so we put our heads and funds together and got you this.” She nodded toward a poorly wrapped box. “Ta-d-ah!”
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