by Faith Naff
“Sunrise,” she said even softer. “I need you to do something.”
“What is it?” he asked, sensing the seriousness in her hushed tone.
“I’m going to leave you now. After I’m out of sight, I need you to lower your hood, take a look around, and then walk around this house to the back entrance.”
“Lower my hood?” he asked in bewilderment. “Why would I do that?”
“I don’t have time to explain,” she said. “Lower your hood and then enter this house via the back door. Just trust me.”
“Okay,” Sunrise said reluctantly. His human friend had never led him astray before and he saw no reason she would now. Still, what she requested felt more than foolish. Viyana moved away, disappearing behind another building nearby. With his friend out of sight, Sunrise reluctantly pulled back his hood. The sun was still low, and the lack of cover over his face forced him to shield his eyes from the brightness.
Sparrow’s eyes widened. She recognized the face from the posters circulated by the Temple. “Lady’s grace, it is him!” she whispered to herself. Complete success felt just within reach. She lowered herself almost onto her stomach as Sunrise surveyed the area around him. After two full scans of his surroundings, he ducked into the alley. Sparrow leapt off the roof like a frog and soared to the other house. She landed on the back end and crept to the edge, reaching it just in time to see Sunrise pass under her through the back door.
She listened for the thud of the door shutting, but it never came. He’d left it open, leaving her the chance to follow him inside. Sparrow dropped off the roof and landed on the doorframe. Keeping as still as possible, she let her ears search the room before her eyes got the chance. No noise was coming from inside. There were no conversations or footsteps. Sunrise seemed to be in the room alone. This was her opportunity.
Wasting no more time, Sparrow spread her wings and flew through the door. The home was simple, with only the basic necessities filling the single-room hut. Sunlight poured in from the only window adjacent to the front door. Sunrise sat alone in a chair in the center of the room, his hood still down and his eyes fixated on the faerie hovering against the ceiling above him. “At last, the fugitive, Sunrise,” she said.
His gaze instantly worried her, making her regret how quickly she’d acted on her sudden good fortune. The look in his eyes suggested he wasn’t expecting her, but he was expecting something.
This was a trap.
The sunlight from the window unexpectedly dimmed as a wide plank of wood was pressed against it from the outside. Sparrow lowered herself from the ceiling as the front door burst open. Viyana charged into the hut, quickly shutting the door behind her. Sparrow turned to dart out the back, but the Lady of Meadowgold had obviously been planning for that. In her right hand she held a large, cast iron cooking pot. Before Sparrow could escape, Viyana hurled the pot at the back door. Its tremendous weight knocked the door closed, sealing off the last exit.
Unable to escape, Sparrow’s fought back. She dropped her shoulders, letting her cloak fall to the floor and revealing the bow and arrow satchel concealed underneath. She knocked one of the tiny splinters, aiming its poisoned tip at Viyana and letting it go.
Viyana grabbed a flat serving tray off the nearby table and held it up like a shield. The small arrow embedded itself in the wooden surface, rapidly followed by three more as Sparrow continued her attack. She peered over the tray to see the faerie swooping towards her. She tried to swing the tray and knock her out of the air, but the attack crossed the faerie’s path too soon. Viyana dove to the floor and rolled to a crouching position. Sparrow loaded another arrow and shot towards her, but it missed without Viyana needing to move.
Sparrow started to panic. She’d lost the advantage in the battle and her training didn’t include a great deal on open combat with the big races. The faerie way was to attack silently from the shadows, but that tactic was no longer an option. She tried to zip across the room, intending to hide while the human’s eyes were diverted. She was nearing a clay pot on a shelf against the wall when her path was suddenly obscured. The bottom of a wicker basket blocked her escape before she could change trajectory.
In her fight with the human, Sparrow had forgotten to keep tabs on the elf. More foolishness. More mistakes. As she slammed hard into the woven surface, Sunrise jerked the basket down to the ground. It landed upside-down, sending Sparrow crashing onto the dirt floor. Sunrise tipped over a nearby chair. It fell against the basket making it too heavy to lift and completing her cage. Sparrow wearily stood to marvel at the results of her own stupidity. She was trapped.
“That’s quite enough of that,” Viyana said as she got back to her feet. She dusted off her armor and stretched her neck with a loud pop.
“You’re no agent of the Temple!” Sunrise said in alarm. “Who are you?! Who sent you?!”
Sparrow gave no reply other than to stare at the elf coldly.
“She’s a Rose Thorn,” Viyana said with a groan. “A member of Windsong’s assassin order.”
Now Sparrow felt compelled to speak. “How did you know that?” she asked.
Viyana laughed condescendingly. “No regular faerie would be trained like you are. I heard about your little incident at the tavern and figured an agent of the Rose was in Meadowgold.” She crouched down next to the makeshift jail, peering in through the wooden weaves. “What I don’t know is why.”
“What makes you think I’ll tell you?” Sparrow asked. She tried to keep confidence in her tone, but her fear couldn’t be masked.
“Well, whatever your mission was, it was clearly meant to be kept a secret,” Viyana began. “I’m sure your queen wouldn’t like to have a complaint brought up against Windsong at the next Tri-leaf Council meeting, but then maybe she would answer my questions instead.”
Sparrow hung her head. The mission had gone from easy victory to complete failure. Dewdrop was the only other soul that knew she was here, and a public exposure of the assignment would destroy the Rose’s reputation. Windsong would likely call for her banishment or worse, and she couldn’t bear the thought of it.
“You’re obviously looking for me,” Sunrise said. “Do you seek Firefly as well?”
“Yes,” Sparrow answered meekly.
“What do the faeries want with us?” he demanded. “Do you plan to turn us over to Tranquility? Has the Temple offered a bounty now?”
Sparrow shook her head. “I assure you, Windsong is no friend to the Temple these days, and I’m partially to blame.”
“Then what could you possibly want with us?” Sunrise asked.
“The Rose believes Firefly may possess valuable information.”
“What kind of information?” Viyana questioned.
Sparrow looked up through the basket, trying to lock eyes with the Lady of Meadowgold. “The kind that would expose Grand Seryan Silvermist for who she really is.”
Chapter 13
When Ilderra finally saw the rolling grasslands of the human territory, things started to go wrong. The first thing she noticed was the dark, swirling clouds approaching from the west. The wind was picking up and she could smell the rain pouring down in the distance. She would beat the storm to the city, but just barely. Looking towards Meadowgold, she noticed the decorations adorning the buildings. The increasing wind carried beautiful music and delicious smells from the city center.
It wasn’t what she did see that worried her, but what she didn’t see. Though it was never explicitly mentioned in any of her letters, Ilderra assumed either Viyana or one of her representatives would be watching for her by the road. Certainly they didn’t expect her to just wander in alone.
“No greeting party?” Jayce asked as his horse came to a stop.
“That’s just what I was wondering,” Ilderra responded.
“Do you wish to wait here or continue onward?” he asked.
Ilderra’s eyes turned once again to the western horizon. “That storm isn’t going to give us the luxury of waiting. W
e’ve no choice but to enter the city alone.”
“Onward it is then,” Jayce said. His heels kicked into the sides of his steed, sending it down the grassy slope towards the city.
Ilderra did the same, but her horse protested. The wind was indeed getting strong and the animal yearned to return to the trees. Ilderra herself had to hold on a little tighter to the reins. Her elegant robes flapped like banners in the gale. The ornate braids in her hair had loosened during her travels, forcing her to undo them entirely. Now her hair whipped across her face, making her miss having it all pinned against her head.
Still, she and her acolyte companions made their way towards the city. It did her heart well to hear that, despite the oncoming storm, the city was engaged in celebration. The music got louder as she approached the first row of small buildings and she could see a few clusters of people dancing and talking together.
The city looked just as she’d remembered. If there were any changes from her five year absence, time had wiped them from her mind. Of course being in the familiar setting started to bring back familiar feelings. Her last days in Meadowgold had been spent feeling alone, unwanted, and afraid for the future. She was returning now as high priestess, yet she couldn’t help letting those unsettled ghosts reclaim her spirit.
Meadowgold sat in a shallow valley, which allowed some of the wind to pass over the tops of the houses. The streets themselves were much calmer, though the flags upon the poles and lines flapped wildly above her. The first rumbles of thunder echoed softly from the west.
“She’s here!” someone shouted.
In an instant, the various clusters of people descended upon Ilderra and her acolytes. Their arms were outstretched. Joyous smiles lit their faces. Their horses were taken by the reins and led through the streets toward the city center as the people cheered around them. As they moved, more people joined in, pouring into the streets from inside the shops and homes.
Ilderra was overjoyed. It was a far cry from the last time she’d been in Meadowgold. She let the crowd lead her horse towards the town square. Her eyes scanned the faces in the crowd. It had been five years, but she was usually good at remembering people. No one yet looked familiar to her, but that wasn’t too surprising. There were thousands of humans living in Meadowgold. Certainly she wouldn’t remember most of them, and perhaps they wouldn’t remember her. It seemed time had erased her past, bringing her before her tribe again as a new person.
It was all going so well until she saw her. As her eyes turned forward, the first familiar face emerged from a nearby home. There was a moment before she connected the face with a memory, but the revelation made her gasp. She couldn’t remember the woman’s name, but she knew it was the wife of one of her older brothers. The same joyous smile crossed the woman’s face as her new high priestess rode toward her, but it gradually twisted into a wide-eyed look of shock.
“Ilderra?” the woman said. Ilderra couldn’t hear it, for she was still too far away from her. But she could make out the shape of her name forming on the woman’s lips. She just stood there as the horse drew closer. Before Ilderra could pass by her, another familiar face exited the home. This one took her no time to discern; it was her older brother, Bailen. The woman grabbed him by the arm and jerked him towards her. He protested at first, wondering what his wife could possibly be so distraught about. Then he saw her.
“By Lady’s grace, it can’t be,” Bailen said. Ilderra was close enough to hear his words, even with the crowd cheering around her. Her horse trotted right past the astounded couple, and Ilderra gave them a small wave with her right hand.
“I’m home,” she said softly and nervously. She wasn’t sure if they actually heard her or not, but it didn’t seem to matter. Her convoy moved on, but she stole a glance back over her shoulder. They’d each fallen into the crowd, and she could see them approaching people they seemed to know well. They pulled people aside one by one, whispering into their ears. As though their words enchanted them with a spell, the faces of those they spoke to turned from joyous smiles jaws dropped in surprise.
Then, it started to spread. Like a droplet of dye splashing into clear water, the gossip moved swiftly through the crowd. Ilderra’s heart began to race as the celebratory spirit she’d rode into vanished. Joy gradually turned to shock. Those closest to her horse began to move away. By the time the stage at the city center came into view, the crowd had formed a circle around her and her acolytes. Those waiting at the stage cheered and shouted, but the hushed voices spilled over into the larger crowd.
“What’s going on?” Jayce asked. “This is not the reaction I was expecting.”
Ilderra sighed. “It’s the one I feared.” Not wanting to watch the faces anymore, her eyes turned to the stage. Not a soul stood upon it, making her racing heart beat even harder. Where was the Lady of Meadowgold? Why was she not out here to greet her? Certainly if all of the territory was out for this celebration—if it could still be called that—she would be as well. Ilderra needed the human leader here to show confidence in her. It was her only hope of combating the rumors of her past, which were growing larger and more threatening than the coming storm.
When Ilderra finally descended her horse and stepped onto the stage, there was very little cheering going on. All eyes were still upon her, but there was no wonder or excitement behind them. Instinct told her to run away, to jump back onto her horse and ride at full gallop into the Wilds. She felt tears forming behind her eyes but forced them to stay back. She couldn’t cry, couldn’t show weakness. The people of Meadowgold were remembering the clumsy, useless girl that had left them five years ago, and she had to show them that girl was no more.
“Greetings, citizens of Meadowgold,” she began. Fear tried to make her voice soft and unsteady, but she put more air behind her words. “Days ago, I was sent here by the Grand Seryan with a special purpose: to be the first high priestess of the human territory.” She took a deep breath before continuing, because she knew her words from here on would be a tainted with lies.
“The news made my heart swell with pride and joy. Not for the calling, though I was honored, but for blessings I knew the Lady would share with my tribe. I am here because of your efforts, because humanity as a whole declared together that our love for Her is strong and our loyalty absolute. You all made history, and today you reap the rewards of your efforts.” She paused, hoping her words would result in cheers and applause. A few people clapped, but quickly stopped as they realized the crowd didn’t share in their excitement. Ilderra closed her eyes and sighed. She had no choice but to face her demons.
“I see by your faces that many of you remember me. If you don’t, you’ve certainly heard of my reputation. I’m not going to lie and say I was never really the girl you remember, but I can say with surety that the years have changed me.” Her words were met with silence. Some at the edge of the crowd turned away and headed back into the city.
“I know our time here today is short because of the coming storm,” she continued, pretending the crowd wasn’t already leaving. “But rest assured, I will be back here tomorrow morning. I wish to lead the whole tribe in praise and thanksgiving, for a new era has dawned and…” a deafening boom from above drowned out her sentence as lightning lit the sky behind her. The rain came hard and fast, pouring in thick sheets onto the village. The few remaining people in the crowd scattered like mice.
Ilderra just stood there. The rain beat down on her, matting her hair to her face and soaking her high priestess robes. Thick droplets fell from her eyelashes as she stared off across the vacant space around the stage. “Lady go with you,” she said as though anyone were around to hear it.
“High Priestess?” asked a voice from behind her. Ilderra spun around to see a woman standing at the back end of the stage. She was clothed in armor, with a sword hanging at her side. She’d never met the woman before, but she needed no introduction.
“Where were you, Lady of Meadowgold?” she asked scornfully. She was upset about t
he crowd’s favor turning on her, but she was angry with Viyana for leaving her to face them alone.
“Unforeseen complications,” Viyana answered. “I didn’t wish for our first meeting to go this way. How did your introduction go?”
Ilderra couldn’t bring herself to answer. She wrapped her arms around her body and leaned forward. The mental dam holding back her tears finally broke, though it was impossible to distinguish them from the raindrops striking her face.
Viyana was puzzled. “High Priestess, what in Lady’s name is the matter?”
This was truly awful. She was supposed to be the new spiritual leader of her tribe, working in partnership with the Lady of Meadowgold to bring peace and prosperity to all humanity. Now, Viyana’s first impression of their new high priestess was of a scared little girl, crying alone in the rain. She saw no way this would work. She’d failed her new calling before it even began.
Viyana put a hand on Ilderra’s shoulder. Feeling her touch, Ilderra lifted her head. She could barely see her through the wet hair matted to her own face, but she could detect a genuine look of concern. There were no words for a moment. Ilderra’s tears continued to pour with the rain. Her legs tried to give out from under her, but Viyana wouldn’t let her fall.
“There’s an empty house three buildings down on the right behind you,” Viyana said. “Please tell your acolytes they will find warm beds and dry clothes there tonight.”
“I...I will,” Ilderra answered, trying and failing to regain control of her emotions. “What of me?”
Viyana smiled. “You will be my guest tonight.”
