Moonlight and Magick

by Isobael Liu

  “Dad?” Amras asked. His brow furrowed in confusion.

  Khayyam coughed and spoke up. “Dad is a shortened term for Father. It’s a more familiar term. Father is more formal.”

  Amras pondered Khayyam’s explanation and shook his head. “The Mists are just as you see. Have you ever walked into The Mists and as it enclosed you from the surrounding world, you knew you were not alone? If you listened closely, you could hear the whispers of the Wild, and if careful to keep watch, you would see the shadowy figures of those who came and gone through The Mists?”

  “Okay, now you’re just freaking me out,” she said, exasperated.

  Khayyam snorted and grinned.

  Amras looked at her and frowned. “You are in what the humans call ‘a snit.’”

  Lilian gasped. “I am not. I just expected something a bit more magical than fog. I expected magic words and fancy gateways or maybe some music. Not…fog.”

  Amras lifted a brow at her and pushed her into said fog. She heard Khayyam’s burst of laughter just before everything went silent.

  Lilian shivered and glanced around. As Amras had said, there were shadows which moved amongst the fog, and around her faint traces of whispers could be heard, although she couldn’t pick out any one conversation. She couldn’t even pick out specific words, but she could hear the soft whispering sounds as though many people spoke all at once in such a soft tone, that she wanted to yell out, “Speak up!”

  It was very eerie and she didn’t like it, but before she could turn around and go back the way she had come, Amras and Khayyam stepped into the fog beside her.

  “Do you understand now?” Amras asked as he took her arm and led her and Khayyam through the Mists.

  “Yes, and I don’t like it. It’s frightening.”

  “You, who faced Ulwe and the Madness, who just survived your Chrysalis, are frightened of the Mists?”

  Lilian tried to explain. “It’s eerie. I don’t like not knowing what’s out there. I don’t like the feeling here, the way it feels when it brushes against my skin.”

  “You’re more sensitive than I realized,” Amras said. “Perhaps your abilities give you a heightened sensitivity.”

  Before she could reply, they were through. They stepped out into a world she had only dreamed about. She saw even Khayyam was taken aback by the sheer beauty and intensity of this world, and she smiled.

  “Welcome home, my daughter,” Amras said.

  Lilian laughed. “It’s amazing! The colors are so bright, and it smells so clean and fresh here!”

  Amras led her along a path and Khayyam followed behind them.

  The path widened and soon became a cobblestone road. When they rounded the corner, she could see what Amras meant by kingdom.

  Just like out of a movie, she saw a town square. People seemed to be setting up for market, dressed like they had stepped back in time, or into a Renaissance Faire. Either way, she was awed.

  The cobblestone road was lined with shops and homes, decorated with bright, colored ribbons and the sound of bells and chimes.

  “My Lord,” someone called out in greeting.

  Soon, everyone was looking at them, greeting Amras and staring at her and Khayyam.

  Amras waved and returned their greetings. As they walked on, they were stopped often, everyone wanting to speak to Amras. After moving no more than halfway down the road in ten minutes, the sound of hoofbeats approached and people moved out of the way.

  Men in matching clothing and riding white horses approached, one without a rider. As they neared, they slowed and the lead man jumped down from his mount to approach.

  “Os Condraer,” he said, giving a bow.

  “Calawe,” Amras said with a smile. “Calawe, this is my daughter, the Princess Lilian.” Amras spoke in English.

  She startled and looked at her father with a faint frown. “I’m not going to claim any such title.”

  Amras grinned.

  Lilian looked at Calawe and noticed his casual perusal of her. She lifted a brow at him.

  “Nice to meet you, Calawe.”

  Calawe blinked and bowed. “Highness.”

  Amras motioned the rider-less horse to be brought forward and when done so, he mounted and offered his hand to her.

  Lilian shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m not riding on that thing.”

  “It is safe,” Amras said.

  “If it bucks, and I go flying off, I’m going home.”

  Amras laughed and pulled her up in front of him, though she sat sideways. Calawe mounted his own horse.

  “You’re going to need clothes, maids, and you should learn Sidhe. Calawe, you will help tutor my daughter in our language.”

  Calawe looked at her. “If that is your wish, My Lord.”

  Lilian narrowed her eyes on him. While handsome, Calawe had an arrogant look to him. His blond hair was long and tied back into a ponytail, and he had emerald green eyes women would melt over, but focused on her, as hard as the stone they were named after.

  He did not like her here.

  She smiled at him and he looked away, his jaw set in a stubborn line.

  When Khayyam shifted to his wolf form to walk beside Amras and Lilian’s horse, the guards, four besides Calawe, were shocked and drew their swords.

  “You strike him in any way and there’ll be hell to pay,” she snapped at them.

  The men eyed her, glanced at Amras, and nodded their heads as they sheathed their swords once more.

  “Who is this wolf man?” Calawe asked Amras, not bothering to look at her. “He is not Sidhe.”

  “His name is Khayyam, and he’s my bodyguard,” she said in reply.

  Calawe flicked a glance at her and said nothing more.

  The ride to the castle would have been in silence had Amras not filled it with snippets of information about the area. She paid close attention to what she both saw and heard.

  “Khayyam, be sure to remember how to get back to the Mists,” she sent him.

  The russet colored wolf huffed and nodded his head once in reply.

  The castle, or Court Seat, as Amras called it, wasn’t what she expected either. Books and movies, and even photographs of castles in Europe, had them large, made of gray stone, and rather daunting. Not so here, it seemed. In fact, it looked more like a villa to her than a castle, shaped in a horseshoe configuration. In the center was a large open courtyard, the far end held a large stone chair with smaller ones on either side, the whole area raised up on a dais to be higher than the rest of the courtyard. To either side were benches, three deep, and a red carpet which ran the full length of the courtyard from entrance to throne. They dismounted out front and Amras led the way toward the throne, and behind it where there was a set of double doors. Guards saluted and opened the doors for them, although they gave her curious looks and smiles.

  Khayyam gave a low growl before passing through the doors after her. Behind her, she heard Calawe and the guards talking in Sidhe. While she’d love to slip into Calawe’s mind to see what they were talking about, she decided against it. He was already rather ambivalent toward her, why make it worse?

  “He is a good man,” Amras thought to her. “He was in training to become king.”

  “Was?”

  “Now that you are here, you would be in line to inherit.”

  “Uh. That’s not something we’ve discussed. I don’t know if I’ll even be staying here.”

  Amras said nothing in reply as they were inundated with people. A large group had come en masse to welcome their king home and spotting her, she found herself the center of attention. She tried to move back, out of the way, but Amras took a hold of her arm.

  “This is my daughter, Lilian,” he announced to the crowd. “She has only just recently gone through the Chrysalis.”

  Silence filled the room. A flutter of nervousness went through her, but when her eyes met Calawe’s and she saw the smirk on his face, anger rose in her. She straightened. Khayyam, still in wolf form, stood besid
e her, tense and ready.

  “Hello. It’s nice to meet all of you. Give me some time to get to know everyone’s names.”

  There was a soft murmur in Sidhe amongst the group, and a young woman stepped forward and gave a deep curtsy.

  “Highness, my name is Elena.”

  Elena had russet brown hair with red highlights which glittered in the light. Her skin was a pale ivory and a smattering of freckles along her cheekbones. She looked young, maybe a little younger than Lilian herself, and despite her formal manners, she could see a spark of mischief in Elena’s hazel eyes.

  Lilian smiled and extended her hands to Elena. “Thank you. Call me Lilian.”

  Elena looked shocked and with a hesitant motion took her hands. A slow smile appeared on Elena’s face.

  “Now, Amras has declared I must have new clothing and I know nothing about Sidhe style of dress. I hope you can help me and Khayyam.”

  “Khayyam, Highness…err…Lilian?”

  Lilian looked down at the wolf at her side. “Khayyam?”

  Khayyam glanced up and shifted to his human form. Elena gasped and her hands tightened on hers.

  “He is not Sidhe!”

  Lilian grinned, very much enjoying the shock value. “No, he’s a Lupine. Khayyam is my trusted bodyguard.”

  “Not that you will need one here, daughter. No one would dare to hurt you.”

  Lilian looked at her father. “Ulwe tried.”

  There was another murmur amongst the Sidhe.

  “Calawe? Tomorrow we’ll start those lessons,” she said. “After lunch.”

  “Lunch, milady?” he asked.

  “Midday meal?”

  “Ahh. I will endeavor to rearrange my schedule for you, milady.”

  The words were polite and accommodating, but it was obvious he was a bit perturbed. Good.

  She smiled oh so sweetly at Calawe before looking back at her father. “Could I be shown to my room?”

  Elena piped in. “My Lord? Let me show her to her room? I know the perfect one for her...the Blue Room.”

  Amras smiled. “Excellent, Elena. Have two maids appointed to her. Oh, and have the dressmaker come out and measure her for some gowns.”

  “Nothing too over the top, I’m not staying very long,” Lilian reminded her father.

  Amras leaned in and placed a light kiss on her forehead, grinned and strolled off. Many followed him, but a couple stayed behind.

  “Is it true you battled the Winter King?” one asked her.

  Lilian drew a slow, deep breath. She didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Yes. He was going to kill me, so I protected myself.” Her tone made it clear she wasn’t going to elaborate.

  Elena pulled her along. “Come. I’ll show you to your room, and then we’ll see about getting you some clothing befitting your station.”

  Lilian grinned. “My station?”

  “As a princess,” Elena replied.

  Khayyam followed behind the women, close enough to be a deterrent, but far enough away to be circumspect. Elena kept glancing back at him, curious and shy.

  “Would you like to meet him?” Lilian asked in a whisper.

  Elena looked at her in surprise, and blushed, giving herself a soft glow.

  Lilian stopped and turned, motioning for Khayyam. When he stepped closer, she took his arm.

  “Khayyam, this is Elena. Elena, Khayyam.”

  Khayyam gave Elena a slight bow. “Miss.”

  Elena blushed even more and dropped into a curtsy. “Khayyam.”

  Lilian just grinned.

  Khayyam looked a little unsure of himself and glanced at Lilian. She took pity of the two of them and with Khayyam on one side and Elena on the other side, she linked arms with both and started walking.

  “Khayyam will want a room near mine,” she said.

  “Are the two of you…” Elena started to ask.

  “We’re friends. I have a mate,” she said.

  Elena looked hopeful at first only to hurry and cover it up. “A mate?”

  “He’s Lupine.”

  “Why did he not come with you?”

  Lilian smiled a bit. “One, he doesn’t know I left, and two, because he’s being a typical, pig headed male. Present company excluded, of course, Khayyam.”

  Khayyam grinned.

  * * * *

  Elena had shown Lilian to her room, appointed two maids, and already ordered a bath to be brought before she could even take a deep breath. It was rather obvious Elena knew what to do and how to do it, and for a young woman, she had a definite knack for taking charge of things. She liked her.

  Khayyam was given a room next to hers, and the only other room on this level would be given to the maids to share.

  “We need to find you some clothes,” Elena said. “I can summon the dressmakers, we can take measurements. Until then, I’m sure we can find someone similar to your size.”

  “Can’t I wear something like the men do? Pants and a shirt, something easy to move in?”

  Elena stared at her as if she was insane.

  “I don’t suppose that’s a yes?”

  “Ladies do not wear men’s clothing,” Elena announced.

  “Who made up that law?”

  “It’s not a law…”

  “So then I could,” she said with a grin.

  “But it’s just not done,” Elena protested.

  “And a sword. I want a sword.”

  Elena sighed. “Is this truly what you want?”

  Lilian nodded. “Oh, yes. Definitely.”

  “I’m not even sure how to get you a sword.”

  “Get me the clothes and show me where to get the sword. I’ll pick one out myself.”

  Three hours later, to Elena’s amusement, after much grumbling by her, and threats by the dressmakers, they finished. After a wonderful soak in a bathtub, which could fit three people, and she preferred not to get the details from Elena on why the bathtub was so large, Lilian was dressed in a lord’s finery, with silken breeches and a black tunic, belted with a silver sash. Her hair was braided back and black, soled slippers were found to fit her feet.

  “Your father is not going to be pleased,” Elena said.

  “My father will just laugh.”

  Lilian eyed herself in the mirror. The clothing fit well and accentuated her curves without making her look trashy. There would be no mistaking her for a man despite it being a man’s outfit. The breeches came down to just below her knees and exposed her feminine calves. She pursed her lips. She needed anklets.

  She looked up to her face. The black of the clothing set off the silver of her eyes, but she needed earrings, she decided. Maybe a cuff like her father wore. She eyed her ears. They weren’t pointed like the Sidhes’, although they had a slight point to them. Would the point develop as she aged or would they remain the same because she wasn’t fully Sidhe?

  “Sword,” she said, to shake herself from her ponderings.

  Elena gave an ever-suffering sigh and followed her out of the dressing room. Khayyam eyed her as she stepped into the receiving room and nodded his approval. She grinned and headed for the door.

  Khayyam might have approved, but the resulting wave of shock both astounded and amused her. Servants collided with one another, the Ladies of the court had to pick up their jaws from the marble floor, and the Lords, well, their shock was a different sort altogether. Khayyam had to ensure they kept their distance and didn’t get too close.

  Poor Khayyam, she mused.

  Lilian received an invitation to the midday meal, another wanted to take her on a picnic, one of the bards wanted to write a ballad to her, and two others couldn’t even speak, they just followed like lost puppies.

  “What are you doing to my Court?”

  Amras sounded very much amused and exasperated.

  “Nothing,” she replied with such innocence in her tone that Amras snorted.

  Elena looked either mortified or amused; it was hard to tell as she tried to hide
it from her.

  Khayyam leaned in and whispered, “It’ll be the fashion in a couple of days. You watch.”

  Lilian laughed. “I can’t wait.”

  Elena led her to the weapons room, where they kept spare weaponry of all sorts. Only the guards and soldiers wore weapons, and non-military wore a small dagger used for personal protection and eating. The servants in charge of keeping the weapons polished and rust-free jumped to their feet when they walked in. Their eyes widened when they recognized her and hurried to make their bows.

  “I’m looking for a sword,” she said. “I hope you can help me find one.”

  The servants looked at one another and back at her. One piped up. “What kind of sword, milady?”

  “Small and light for my hand.”

  “But you’re a Lady,” another stuttered.

  Elena nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, but does it exclude me from having a sword?”

  Their shoulders drooped and in resignation, they showed her the swords. She grinned.

  Two hours passed as she went through the selection. Khayyam had propped himself against a wall and Elena had taken over an abandoned chair as they waited for her to make up her mind.

  Lilian couldn’t though. None of the swords had been made for a woman’s hand and not a single one connected with her. She wanted the one like she had conjured in her astral battle with Ulwe, but what had been created mentally didn’t always mean there’d be one in reality.

  One of the servants offered her a long dirk. It was a slender thing, sharp on both edges, with a delicate look to the hilt and a weight more suited to her hand. It wasn’t what she hoped for, but she loved it.

  The servants found a scabbard for it, showed her how to loop her sash through the belt slide and retied it for her. They looked her over, grinned, and sent her on her way.

  Of course, having had time to get over their initial shock of her style of dress, everyone was shocked a second time when they saw her armed with a dirk. Elena just sighed and led her through the castle to the back portion, where other rooms were located.

  “I need to get cleaned up and ready for the evening meal,” Elena said. “You can wait for me and I’ll show you the way.”

  Lilian nodded. “All right.”

  “More than likely, His Highness will have some entertainment for you. Maybe some music and dancing.” Elena grinned at the thought.