by Rachel Crist
When magic died, the magic in The Wall died too. But The Wall is still a formidable barrier. There’s only one entrance and the West guards it diligently.
This is why I have to march the Silent Watchers along Wolfmere Peak to the least guarded part of The Wall. With the help of my gift, I hope to secure this section.
Provena paws at the ground and blows impatiently. The week has flown by fast, and we’re now standing at the edge of a batch of thinned pines, facing The Wall. Thousands of assassins stand behind me, awaiting my command.
A command that would have come from Bellek—if he were here. Instead he’s out on an errand for the king. A message from him arrived earlier this morning.
It read along these lines: knowing that I was to be made Commander, that there were those who would not be ready to accept it, and to watch my back. But I knew all that already. What I didn’t know was in the second part of his message, about a friend of his. How he would be keeping an eye on me. It had irritated me at first, as if Bellek didn’t trust me. But I brushed away the negative emotions. I have only few in my life I can trust. And he is one of them.
“Commander,” Leech speaks, “we are ready.”
I walk Provena out onto the open field. My eyes shift over to the mountains and I wonder if Bellek’s friend is watching me now. Supposedly a coin engraved with the markings of a dove’s head will be presented to me, a token of peace.
My focus returns to The Wall. Doubt creeps to the edges of my thoughts. Will my magic reach that high?
My red Commander cloak spreads out behind me—a late gift from the king. I can still feel his slimy hands over my body from his early morning visit. I hadn’t expected him. It took seeing Zyrik afterwards to put my mind back on my task.
The Violet Guard gather with their bows drawn. Their bodies twitch, showing their hesitancy as they see a girl approach. I count fifty, but I know there are more.
I embrace the Western chill air. It’s foreign, like the magic that thrills through my veins. But it’s also comforting.
“Hold your position and state your business,” a guard shouts over the edge.
It starts with a simple thought and my gift sparks.
Fifty guards step to the ledge, and throw themselves off The Wall. Their bodies thud hard against the solid ground with the sound of shattering bones.
Two heads barely pop over the ledge, and I grab hold of their minds and send them to their deaths as well. Arrows begin to soar over, the remaining guards shooting blindly toward an unseen target. I move closer to The Wall to avoid the random flights of arrows.
Watching for any movement, I wait patiently, keeping my mind quick. Twenty more guards look over the ledge to assess the damage, and soon enough my mind locks onto theirs, and I burst their hearts inside their chests.
Minutes drag on until I’m sure there are no guards left. A subtle pounding settles behind my eyes. Ignoring the pain, I place two fingers in my mouth, and whistle.
Catapults are pushed forward and set. Giant boulders are released to crash into The Wall. We have to make a large enough hole for the assassins to pass through easily.
Some time passes before The Wall begins to crumble. Violet Guards continue to appear, but before their arrows can find targets, they are dead.
Before long I am leading Provena through a gaping hole into a kingdom I thought I’d never see. Thousands of black pines stretch out before me, a dusting of snow brushing their tops. My lips part, then curve up. The snow is beautiful.
“Happy to be home?” My eyes snap to Captain Ryker’s mocking grin.
“Must you always be an ass, Captain? Go find someone else to annoy. I have no need of your pointless observations.”
Ryker’s sneer disappears and I nudge my horse forward. He really is a prick. We travel west, maneuvering through the thick pines before Leech rides to my side.
“Commander.”
“Captain Leech.”
“What you did back there was impressive. The men think so as well. If there were any who doubted you, they no longer do.”
Pain shoots through my head, and I clamp my eyes shut.
“Commander? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. It’s just a headache.”
We finally stop to make camp, and I barely find my tent before passing out into darkness.
15
Golden Mirror
Five more steps forward, and Vera will find herself standing directly in front of the golden mirror. The pain in her head is gone, and she wonders if the relief of pain is her dream’s doing.
The strange girl is standing across from her, and Vera sees her lips moving. It’s as if she is trying to tell her something, but nothing is coming out.
Vera: Hello? Who are you?
The girl speaks again, but once again Vera cannot hear her. This girl looks exactly like her but something is off. She knows she doesn’t have any other family and thinks maybe the Enchanter is somehow linked to the mirror, trying to put thoughts inside her head. Vera was hoping this mirror would provide answers, but she finds it only confusing.
Livia is frustrated. She doesn’t understand why her sister can’t understand her. When she sees Vera attempt to speak, she can’t hear her. Livia wonders how she is supposed to find out about her sister if they can’t speak to one another. Livia knows the East will be coming, but she doesn’t know if her sister knows about her, or knows that she might be hunting her sister unknowingly. Livia has to find out how to use this golden mirror. Before it is too late.
16
Livia
I admire myself in the mirror wearing a beautiful fur cloak. An attached note says it is from Lady Ella, that she hopes any trips outside the castle will find me warm.
Unsure what to make of the nice gesture, I can’t help but smile at how the cream-colored fur makes me feel like royalty. Maybe my aunt likes me after all?
I wear a fitted blue dress underneath that wraps delicately around my shoulders. The cloak is welcome; with the dropping temperatures that befell us during the night, coldness would have settled quickly under the thin material of my dress.
“Lady Ella sent you this, this morning?” Amah asks.
“Yes. The note she left is lying over there on the table.” I grab a silver belt and latch it around my waist.
After speaking with my uncle, we decided a trip to see Scholar Eli would be helpful. He and Amah both find him strange, but they know he is the best person for me to talk to about my gift.
He lives inside the Temple, and only travels out to attend council meetings. He lives and breathes the books inside the Temple.
I hold up another belt—it has a buckle the size of a dinner plate—I quickly place it back. I look back into the mirror, and see Amah in the mirror’s reflection. She is gazing intently over the note, reading it as though it holds a cryptic message. She doesn’t trust this Lady Ella; that’s clear in the furrow of her brow.
When she catches me staring, her face softens.
“You look lovely, En Oli.”
* * *
We go down to meet my uncle in the main hall. He embraces me the moment I arrive, and I breathe in his musky scent. Something tugs inside my chest; it reminds me of the woods I left behind.
“It amazes me how much you resemble both of your parents. The people will think they’ve come back to life,” Regent Grif says.
He looks over my shoulder. I turn to find Reddik approaching. I try to ignore the flutter inside myself.
“Are you coming too?” I ask.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss your second outing amongst your people. Besides, someone has to look after the Regent. The Maker himself wouldn’t leave that man alone.”
The Regent laughs. “Now, Reddik. Just because you know the truth, doesn’t mean you have to go telling everybody.” He slides me an amused glance, and I stifle a laugh.
We head outside to the courtyard where our horses are waiting. A young stable boy with a tangled mess of curly black hair sta
nds next to Rosie.
“Oliver!” I wave excitedly to him, and hurry to his side. “How good it is to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too, Your Royal Highness.” A smile spreads across his face as he puffs out his chest. I notice the willow emblem on his livery, and I can tell he is proud to wear it.
“Are you doing well?” I ask.
“Oh yes, princess. My brother was able to work out a deal with the stable master to make sure I handle your horse. I must say, Rosie is good natured and makes my work easy.”
“Oh, really? Just be careful if you come around her with any sweets that you don’t plan to share; you’ll find another side of her that’s not so pleasant.”
He snorts a laugh.
Reddik and the others come over to say hello, then mount their steeds. I lean forward and whisper in Oliver’s ear. “Are you truly doing okay?”
He puffs out his cheeks. “I’m still sad, but it’s getting better.”
I place my hand on his shoulder, and he tenses. “Don’t hesitate to ask for anything you need.”
Oliver’s shoulders relax. “Thanks, my Lady.”
He takes my hand and assists me up to my saddle. I take the reins and guide Rosie over to the others, where I see Reddik staring at me with a peculiar expression. I can tell he wants to ask me something, but he doesn’t. Instead he smiles and leads our party out onto the bridge.
Crossing over the bridge seems different this time around. Now there’s a soft sky above, and the lacy waves below rock gently against the shore. Birds fly overhead, masters of the salty updrafts, and I find them captivating.
This scenery is the complete opposite of what I am used to. It seems fresh and busy. When we pass by the people of Pynth, their eyes shine as they wave, embracing me with their warm welcomes. As we get further inside the city, I find the love of the people expressed in ways I never knew existed. They stand around and listen to our hooves of our horses clattering against the cobblestone streets as we pass them by, shouting their welcomes and compliments.
Reddik brings his horse up next to mine.
“I told you they would adore you.”
“Yes, you did.” My head whips around when I hear my name called out behind me, and I wave back in response. “How did you know they would?”
“You must understand, princess. It’s my job to know things.”
I slide him a guarded look. Being the Regent’s right-hand man, he must know plenty of things. But I keep my questions and comments to myself.
The street starts to curve around. I notice there aren’t any side streets leading off, but just the narrow spaces between buildings.
“Where do those alleyways lead to?”
Reddik looks to where I’ve pointed. “They lead to the first ward.” When he sees my confused expression, he explains. “The city is laid out in three separate wards. Those alleyways lead into the first ward, the place where the citizens of Pynth dwell. They have their own streets and courtyards—a safe haven of sorts. The pathway we find ourselves in now is in the second ward. This is where all the merchants have their shops, providing everything for the people.”
“I see. So where’s the third ward?”
“The third ward is tucked between the outer wall and the second ward. There you will find the training grounds for our soldiers.”
“It is one of the many brilliant designs of the Western Kingdom,” the Regent chimes in. ”This design protects the people. The wall was built after your departure; it helps security even more. If an army comes into this city, they will have a hard time getting through a wall as well as two other wards to reach our people. Even the road up to the castle bypasses the first ward.”
“I don’t remember reading about these wards in my studies.”
I look back to where Amah is lagging behind. She’s deep in her own thoughts. So I drop back and ride next to her, leaving the men to themselves.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Of course, En Oli. Being here brings back many memories. I find myself going back in time.”
“From when you lived at the Temple?”
“Yes.”
“What about the Willow Sisters?”
Amah’s lips purse together, but she stays silent.
“Can you tell me something of their beliefs?” I press.
Amah pretends to brush something off her sleeve, then adjusts her hands neatly on the horn of her saddle.
“I have always kept my religious beliefs to myself. Always. In the Tar Islands where I was born, there was no Maker. We believed that people always existed, having come forth from the very soil we worked.
When the Willow Sisters ventured to our islands, they were cast out, and told never to return. Just before that, I’d lost my parents to the plague. I was left starving in the streets. I was nothing but bones. The Sisters took me in the under cover of darkness before the slave masters could find me. They brought me back with them on their ship. I thank them now for saving me from the slave lands of Tar, but back then I knew only hate for what they believed in.
It took years for them to convince me of the truth of their Maker and his Guardians that protected the four kingdoms of Erets. I learned that when the magic disappeared, and the people prayed to Maker Adon, they begged him to send down the Guardians once again and bless the four kingdoms. But the Maker has never responded, nor has he sent his Guardians.
Soon the people lost hope. They started to rebuild their world and put their faith in men, and in the kings who ruled them. But not everyone forgot the Maker and all he’d done for them. The Willow Sisters have remained faithful all these years, and they remain here in the Temple, continuing to pray and live in truth, wisdom, strength, and love. Their mission is to awaken in others the belief that magic will return, to prove that the Maker listens and loves us after all.”
“So is this what you believe now?”
Her mouth turns down. “I believe in the Maker. It makes more sense than rising up from the dirt. But when I left the Temple, I was challenged and it drove doubt inside me. For such a long time after, I trusted only myself. But now I see your gift, I see the heart that lies behind it, and I feel a bud of hope growing inside me. I find myself praying once again for your safety.”
This is the most I’ve ever heard of Amah’s life. I hope to hear more, but silence stretches on and my hope is in vain. Only the sounds of heartened people fill the air.
When the crowd’s excitement begins to soften, I notice the road has opened up into a large grassy courtyard. And then I see it—Willow Round. I feel exultation surge through me.
So many times Amah has told me of this sacred place. She might have avoided telling me about inside the Temple, but she was never discouraged from speaking of the beating heart of Pynth, known to everyone as The Willow.
The courtyard is a vast grassy space, manicured to perfection. A large ancient willow tree stands at its center. Only the bones of the tree can be seen; the buds are long gone. But the weeping white branches look beautiful in their ancient ways, still capturing the magic they once had.
Cool air breezes through, and I realize how quiet it has become. The stillness of the people here brings to mind statues; only these statues breathe and wait in anticipation. Leading our horses around The Willow, we join Regent Grif and Reddik at the base of the Temple.
The Temple is of moderate size, stretching up just five stories, with a top floor fully exposed in glass. The stark white marble is covered with thick green vines, as if the Temple has grown straight up from the ground. A wide archway extends out over the marble steps; these lead to two wooden doors, rounded at the top.
“It’s unbelievable,” I exclaim.
The Temple doors open, and women in lavender robes come out in single file, breaking away to either side as they reach the bottom. We wait in silence as over a hundred Willow Sisters fill Willow Round. A last Willow Sister stands yet at the doors. She wears an elaborate robe with simple gold designs.
&nbs
p; “That is Prelate Rishima,” Amah informs me. “She is the leader of the Sisters.”
We all dismount and proceed across Willow Round, the thick grass absorbing our weight. We stop when we reach a stone path at the base of the Temple.
My gift hums beneath my skin, as if it senses the lost touch of magic, as if it knows this place. The wind dances softly, sending my hair gently about. Even though I’ve never been here, I feel the comfort of home.
The Prelate opens her arms. “Welcome, Your Royal Highness, Princess Livia, future queen of the people. We are honored to have you here at Guardian Pynth’s Temple.”
In that moment, everyone kneels down and bows their heads. Like a subtle flutter in the wind, a softly-voiced song comes from the Sisters. I can’t quite make it out. That is until the people join in.
* * *
“Oh’ ring the bell, sweet Queen Bellflower
An heir will hear your call
Ring, ring, my Queen Bellflower
Her touch shall save us all.
* * *
“Oh’ ring the bell, sweet Queen Bellflower
Her life is yours forevermore
Ring, ring, my Queen Bellflower
We’ll love you evermore.”
* * *
The words are familiar. It’s a song written down in one of the many books on Amah’s shelves, back in the pines. It is said to have been a popular medley a long time ago, and it’s taught to all the children. The rest of the song speaks of Queen Bellflower’s journey. I have always found its message sad—that loss of her magic.
I’m shocked to hear them singing her words to me, linking me to the most powerful queen of old. Prelate Rishima stands, and motions me to join her. I take my dress in my hand, and ascend the stairs. The sisters rise as I pass by, and follow us back inside the Temple.
I’m in a large circular room that has walls lined with alcoves, each with a short pillar that holds a metal brazier with small orange flames burning in its center. At the far end of the room, a large statue of Guardian Pynth stands, an altar set before him.
