Her muscles protested as she stumbled to the door. The metal key felt cool in her hand as she pulled it from around her neck and turned the lock.
Mary bustled in with a breakfast of small biscuits, jam, boiled eggs and hot tea.
“Thank you.” Anna opened her shutters to let in the sun. “Is Father awake yet?”
“I’m not sure he ever went to bed,” said the plump woman. “He will see you in half an hour.”
“What do you know?” She stuffed a hot biscuit into her mouth. Her stomach rumbled for more.
“Only that they returned late last night.” Mary hurried out.
Anna bolted her food. She threw on a bluish dress and brushed her hair in long strokes. When it was smooth, she braided the sides back just as her mother used to do.
She hurried down the curved, crescent-shaped walkway of the castle until she stopped at the throne room doors in the center. Two sentries stood outside the door holding long spears planted into the floor. Swords with lavish, jeweled handles hung at their sides.
“I am to see my father now,” she said. They tipped their heads and swung open the ten-foot dark, ornate wooden doors.
A sentry joined her and led her up the long, narrow white stone hall where her father, Vilipp, sat at a table with Seamus at his side. They were finishing breakfast. Seamus had been her father’s friend from their youth. He’d helped her father navigate the politics of the crown, defended his life in battle, and stood at his side on his wedding day. Since the queen passed, the king made no decision without consulting him.
But Seamus was no friend of Anna’s. She narrowed her eyes and set her jaw as his dark eyes followed her. He leaned over and hissed something in her father’s ear. The king nodded.
Anna curtsied low before them. Her eyes rested on the stone floor at the king’s feet.
“Hello, Anna.” King Vilipp’s voice was steady.
Anna stood up. “You sent for me?”
“You should know why.”
“Yes.”
The king rose and placed his hands on her arms. His eyes were red and his hair disheveled. Breadcrumbs clung to his beard.
“You know I would do anything for you, but I have a responsibility to raise a princess worthy of the title,” he said.
Anna’s face flushed.
He paused, letting go of her arms. “You must understand there are more important things in life than having fun.”
Doubt curled up Anna’s spine.
“There’s class, dignity, and respect for others, especially in this family.”
“May I speak?”
“No.” He circled behind her. “Because you lost your mother at such a young age, I’ve had a soft spot in my heart for you. Some say I’ve spoiled you. Horses, archery, the best tutors—what must I do to please you?”
Anna’s face hardened like the stone she stood on. “You have pleased me…”
“Then why do you cause me such trouble? I’ve been amused in the past, but this was a real…” he paused, searching for the right word, “embarrassment.”
“I thought you’d be happy to win the Cup.”
He frowned. “You embarrassed yourself—and me. And if you can’t see that then perhaps more work will settle you down. I am scheduling a new tutor for you—”
“Who?”
“Do not interrupt the king,” Seamus said as he flicked aside a toothpick. His eyes flared as Anna lowered her eyebrows at him.
“As you’ve obviously outgrown your need for an old nurse maid, Mary will be relieved of her duties,” her father continued. “Your sister will oversee your tutoring until an appropriately strict replacement can be found. You can learn from Saira how a lady, even a princess, conducts herself. Life as you knew it is over. No riding, no shooting and gods forbid, no sparring. All that nonsense is over. Seamus will keep an extra close eye on you. He has already advised me to sell Farley or retire him as a breeding stallion.”
“But he’s mine!”
Seamus stood up, towering over Anna a few stairs above her. “You don’t own anything, Princess!” he said with a snarl. “Whatever you think is yours can be taken away if you don’t show your father the proper respect.”
Even from this distance Anna could smell last night’s wine on his breath. The blood drained from her face.
“We could retire Farley,” said King Vilipp. “Perhaps one of his foals will win me the Cup in a few years.” He stared in the direction of the racetrack.
“Father, please,” Anna whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “Don’t take Farley away. He’s still young, and perhaps someone else could ride him next year. I proved he can be ridden. Please.”
“Hah! That wild beast!” Seamus sneered. Anna swallowed hard and scowled at Seamus again. Tall and handsome, he could have any woman he wanted. Her father seemed under his spell as well. While he had grown soft over the years, Seamus’s body was hardened and battle-ready. He moved with the stealth of a cat and Anna knew far too well the bear-like strength of those arms. His only flaw was the single red scar running down his left cheek. Anna glanced away. That scar was a reminder of the night everything changed. She met her father’s eyes again.
“I won the Cup for you.”
The king laughed. “You have your mother’s beauty but unfortunately none of her restraint.” He furrowed his brow. “I hope you can learn that from your sister.” He grew stern once more. “You are almost of age. It’s time for you to consider your duty to Sunderland.”
“Which is what?”
“Just like me. I serve the people and ensure peace and prosperity.”
Anna frowned. She glanced at Seamus, whose smirk accented the long scar. She turned again to the king. “May I at least turn Farley out into his pasture? He can’t stay in his stall.”
“No. I’ll take care of Farley. Now return to your room, where you will stay under Seamus’ supervision.”
“Father! Please let Bart turn him out, he’ll go crazy—”
“Enough! Seamus! Take her to her room!” He rubbed his forehead.
Please, not him.
Seamus’ fingers gripped her arm like a vise as they hurried to her chambers. She had to almost trot to keep up with his hulking strides.
“I find myself in an interesting situation,” Seamus said as he tossed her onto her bed.
“Just get out.”
“I believe you are under my care, now, aren’t you?” He chuckled.
Anna picked herself up and walked to the window. “You aren’t my master.”
He followed and put his hand on her shoulder. She spun toward him, wishing she had a weapon stronger than her fists. The knife in her drawer was too far to reach.
He lifted her chin with his finger and moved her face back and forth. “So like, and yet so unlike. It’s fascinating.” His lips curled into a grin as he let her go and strode to the door, where he inspected the lock. “Give me the key.”
“What?”
“Give it to me.”
“No.” Panic rose in her throat. Anna swallowed hard. She was keenly aware of the key’s weight around her neck. It was heavy, but hidden under her dress. Her only hope of safety. She was naked without it.
“I don’t think you heard your father properly,” Seamus said, sickeningly-sweet. “Give me the key, or I’ll have this door torn apart and a new one put in its place.” He held out his hand with a sneer.
Anna’s hands began to sweat. She steadied her voice. “I don’t care. I’m not giving you the key.”
His face flushed red and the scar turned white. His voice was soft and lethal. “So be it. Do not leave this room.” He spun and slammed the door behind him.
She shuddered and sat down at her vanity with her face in her hands. How long would it be until he returned? She had bought herself a little time, but to do what? She could run to Farley and turn him out right now.
Anna jumped at a quiet knock at the door.
“Come in.”
Mary bustled in.
“Child, I don’t have much time. Please forgive me if I’ve ever done you wrong. I did try my best with you.” She wheezed a bit from the climb up the stairs from her chambers. For the first time Anna realized how old she was. “They are releasing me from you. I’ll serve in the kitchen now.”
Though Anna had known this was coming she felt as though someone had sucked the air out of the room.
“I’m so sorry. You’ll still visit me?” Anna asked.
“I loved you from the first like a daughter.” She pulled a hairbrush from behind her back. “I want to give you this.” It was gold with soft boar bristles. The handle was lined with blue and white gems. “Your mother gave it to me for you. I was saving it for a wedding present, as I knew I’d have nothing to offer you.”
Anna threw her arms around her maid’s neck. She had been her nanny, her comfort when her mother died. Someone who anticipated her every need.
“It’s beautiful. How can I thank you—for everything?” Anna whispered.
“You needn’t.”
“Can you please get word to Stefan that I’m Seamus’ prisoner? I wouldn’t give him my key, and now he’s coming back to put a new lock on my door. If Seamus comes to me at night, I’ll jump into the river.”
“No. It will not come to that. I’ll run to Stefan right now. He won’t allow Seamus to have the key. The river, please don’t. It’s too far down, and not deep enough. You’d die.”
“There are worse things.”
The lines on Mary’s forehead and between her eyes stood out as she frowned. Anna shouldn’t have worried her. “No, child. Don’t speak that way! I will send word to Stefan. And Anna—don’t forget to use your mother’s brush. It will bring you luck, I think.”
“Luck, I could use. Stefan will be at today’s luncheon, dodging all the pretty girls.”
Mary patted her arm as she bustled out the door, leaving her alone with her thoughts. A new maid eventually brought her food, but she wasn’t hungry.
After a day of pacing and unsuccessfully trying to read, Anna picked up the hairbrush Mary had given her and ran it through her hair. As she did, a song, a lullaby her mother used to sing, popped into her head. It was a sad melody, but Anna somehow remembered the words.
Catch some sleep, my little one.
Sleep well this night, my babe.
May you always know you’re loved,
May you always find your way.
Tears formed in her eyes as she thought of her mother.
If only she were here. None of this would have happened. She would have been her ally.
She glanced at her reflection and frowned. She studied her hair falling over her shoulders. It seemed longer. Her right hand holding the hairbrush tingled. Her heart skipped. She brushed her hair again. Nothing happened. Was she just seeing things? She shook her head to toss her hair. It was several inches longer.
She studied the hairbrush. It wasn’t unusual for gems to be placed in combs, brushes and such. But what were these gems? She had thought the white to be diamonds and the bright blue, lapis. She couldn’t be sure.
King Vilipp mined many gems from the mountain Karfin was built into—deep green emeralds, purple onyxes, and blood-red rubies. In the old days, other gems were mined as well. Rare bright white sapphires, beautiful purple-blue fluorite, gold citrine and many others were said to have great magical powers including luck, healing, strength and skill in battle—or even to help someone fall in love. Priests claimed they had learned to harness their powers and encouraged their use in war. Swords sparkled with strength gems, lucky arrows shot true and shields provided magical safety. Sunderland grew unstoppable. Proud. One fateful day the king’s soldiers suddenly turned on each other in battle. Half the army was lost, including the king. The men had gone mad.
Priests later decided the use of so many different magical gems at once had confused their powers, making them erratic. In his grief, the king’s son decreed all magical gems illegal. Anyone caught using them for any reason would be executed.
That prince would become Anna’s great-grandfather. Magic had lain silent for many years in Sunderland, but it hadn’t stopped the opportunistic from illegally mining the magical gems and trading them for oils, silks and other fineries the traders would bring from across the desert. Men were hanged for this crime every year.
The gems in the hairbrush sparkled in the candlelight.
Anna sang the song again, this time a little louder while she stroked her hair. She watched in astonishment as her hair grew at least six inches.
Mother wanted me to have a magic hair-growing brush?
She dropped it on the vanity as if it were hot. Images of dead men dangling from the end of a rope flashed through her mind. She would just braid her hair and no one would notice. After all, who would practice magic just to get their hair to grow? It was strange, but the least of her worries.
She lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. She was trapped, trapped with a magic hairbrush. Now, if it could get her out of a door which would soon be locked from the outside, that would be lucky.
She heard footsteps at the door. A quick knock.
“Princess?”
“Who’s there?”
“Locksmith, Your Highness.”
“Come in.”
“I need you to unlock the door, or I have orders to tear it down.”
“Of course.” Anna unlocked the door.
Renald the locksmith shuffled in with his head down.
“I have been instructed—”
“To change the lock and give Seamus the key,” Anna finished for him.
He nodded.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I cannot disobey.”
“Do your work.” Anna sat straight in her chair and watched him take her freedom away. In less than an hour, she would be a prisoner. She might as well have given Seamus the other key. She took it from her neck and threw it at her bed. It hit and bounced to the stone floor with a loud clank.
Renald glanced up at the noise.
“Your Highness, I’m sorry, but I must give the new key to Lord Seamus.”
“I know.”
The door clicked shut. The lock turned. It was official. Prisoner.
In a few hours Stefan knocked. He turned the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Anna ran to the door.
“Anna, it’s me.”
“Stefan—he’s locked me in.”
“Mary told me. Listen, I’ll take this up with Father. He won’t stand for it.”
“Please hurry, Stefan. I’m afraid of Seamus.”
“He is just punishing you. If he hurt you in any way, Father would have his head.”
“I—Stefan, I don’t think Father would believe me.”
“I’m going to Father now, even if I have to drag his old hide out of bed.”
“Thank you!”
Anna curled up on her bed and waited. She waited and waited, but Stefan never returned. Neither did Seamus, and for that she was thankful. She went to the window again. She tried to judge the distance down. There were rocks and stones in the shallow water just below her window. She’d have to jump pretty far to clear them. The deep part of the river was a long way from her window. She was a strong swimmer and could manage the current. If only there were a way down.
Just then she heard Farley whinny in his stall. He was prisoner as well. Her father still hadn’t let him out? A prince from across the desert had given Farley to Anna as a young colt. He had been scared and wild, but she’d tamed him. Farley had always trusted her. This wasn’t fair to him. He would injure himself if left in his stall for long.
There was a light tap on the door and someone slid a note underneath.
She tore the wax seal off. It was in Stefan’s script.
Dearest Anna,
I do not know what has gotten into Father, but he cannot be reasoned with. He thinks we’ve all been too soft on you and trusts Seamus with your care. How will I live with myself knowing you are stuck there? I do not thi
nk he will harm you, for Father’s sake alone. He is loyal to Father, if unfair to you. Seamus has heard of invaders on our southwestern borders. He is sending me and most of our soldiers to investigate. I believe this is unnecessary, as I’ve heard no such reports, but Father trusts his insight. He has kept us safe these last decades. I’m leaving as soon as I can gather enough supplies. Seamus feels it’s urgent I go as soon as possible. I’ll be gone many weeks, maybe months. Try not to worry, Anna. I’m sure Father will come to his senses before I return.
Always your loving brother,
Stefan
Anna glanced out the window, across the river. Men were packing up horses and wagons. Before the day was out, Stefan, her only ally, would be gone.
Her eyes flew to the hairbrush. Surely it could do something besides make hair grow. She didn’t know what. In desperation, she sang other songs and waited for something to happen. After hours of pure boredom, she sang the lullaby again and again and again, watching her hair grow at first by inches and then by feet. When golden hair fell in great piles on the floor, she sat on her bed and braided it. The long rope spiraled in circles and tumbled to the floor.
She jumped up with a start. The brush had given her luck. She opened the bottom of her desk lamp and poured the oil into a dish she slid into a drawer. She had just closed it when there was a knock at the door. Her heart surged with adrenaline. She scrambled for the knife in the table and slashed the braids off and stuffed them under her bed. She was just lying back to feign sleep when Seamus turned the key and opened the door.
“Yes?” She yawned.
“Get up.” Seamus strode in with a maid trailing behind him. Anna stiffened and rose from the bed.
The maid set a tray of food and a pitcher of water right next to the hairbrush. It didn’t move.
Please, don’t see the brush—or the hair.
“I’m busy this evening with the army, but tomorrow morning, bright and early, you’ll be up attending to your studies. Saira has great plans for you. You’ll not be spoiled anymore.”
The maid curtsied and started for the door when Anna stopped her.
“Wait,” she said. “I need oil for my lamp. The candle is dim, and I know I’ll need it for studying at night. Bring an extra lamp and oil for it as well. I can’t read in the dark.”
Gems of Fire: A Young Adult Fantasy Page 3
