Skirts & Swords (Female-Led Epic Fantasy Box Set for Charity)

by L. P. Dover

  I wasn’t sure how the magic had worked with the bird, but I knew it had, so I dropped to my knees, held my hands above the stone, closed my eyes, and concentrated as hard as I could. Nothing happened right away, and my mind wandered a bit with thoughts of what might be inside, how I wanted to see and needed to touch my family heirlooms.

  I heard the scraping sound of the lid shifting across the floor.

  It didn’t go far, but I didn’t need much. I reached down and drew out a small velvet pouch, laid it aside, and reached back in. I felt a tube, probably a scroll case. I started to take it out and heard a wheezing growl behind me. I froze.

  The stream of profanities that followed was long and harsh; part sounded like it was in another tongue. I released the tube and turned slowly toward Fannie. She was livid, red-faced and shaking. She stepped toward me, and I cautiously slid the pouch that lay against my leg behind my sash. She hadn't seemed to notice.

  The blow was so fast I didn’t see it coming. My head turned with the contact, but quickly whipped back toward her with shock and anger. Her eyes lit with anticipation. Did she want me to fight back? I barely even talked back to Fannie. I didn’t have the size to fight her, let alone the magic. And she was conniving. When I’d first come to live with her she had sent me to council repeatedly, complaining of my behavior. I had undergone hours of “evaluations” under the scrutiny of council members. Exams and trials and endless questions. Black blots on parchment that made abstract shapes. “What do you see, Elfreda?” I knew what they wanted to hear—butterfly and flower species—but I was so resentful toward Fannie for putting me there, I usually saw a black blob of death consuming her. “A Monarch,” I’d say.

  She looked past me for an instant at the few inches of open floor, and I took the opportunity to bolt past her down the hall, straight out the door at full speed. I ran from the house, ignoring the paths; other elves would be no help to me. I kept running until I was certain she wasn’t coming, then I collapsed at the edge of a meadow. I dropped my face into my hands and considered weeping.

  “Freya?” a soft voice asked.

  I looked up, startled. Chevelle stood just in front of me. He dropped to his knees and reached out to touch the mark across my cheek. I turned my head to hide the evidence and his hand became a cradle on the side of my face.

  Chapter Four

  Flame

  “Freya,” he repeated in a softer, soothing voice as he lifted my face. He appeared to have real concern as he glanced from what I was sure was now a welt to my eyes and I struggled to keep the tears that were welling up from falling. I’d not had a caring touch or this kind of regard from anyone for so long I didn’t know how to react.

  “You’ll need to learn protection spells.”

  “I … I can’t …”

  “We won’t tell Francine or the council,” he promised, and I didn’t miss that he’d used Fannie’s real name. Then, softer, “We won’t even tell Junnie.”

  I didn’t understand. “I mean I can’t do magic … just useless stuff … light candles …”

  “Then we start with fire.”

  He lowered his hand to mine and stood, pulling me up and toward the center of the clearing. When we'd distanced ourselves from the tree line, he abruptly stopped and turned back to me, still holding my right hand. My eyes followed his as he looked down at our clasped hands and a cool blue flame lit on my right sleeve.

  Immediately, my other hand jerked up to extinguish it. Chevelle took the hand to keep me from smacking at the flame, which had already disappeared. “No,” he said, “use the magic. Feel it.”

  I nodded and he returned his gaze to our hands, now both connected, as a spark lit at the hem of my left sleeve and slowly worked its way up my arm. I wanted the fire off my arm, needed it put out now. When I concentrated on that, the flame flickered. It flared again and Chevelle squeezed my hands; I had to be able to do this. I focused hard at the base of the flame as it wavered and fell back toward the hem where it finally choked off. I glanced up at Chevelle; he looked pleased.

  “Again,” he said as he stepped back and released my hands.

  A circle of fire grew in front of me where our hands had been. It was blocking my view of Chevelle, I tried to see through it and suddenly it was gone. He was further back now. He raised his right hand and a stream of fire followed it, curving in my direction. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to extinguish it before it was to me, but my feet were frozen in place. What was the old saying? Fight fire with fire. I flung my arm toward the incoming stream of flames and a tongue of fire akin to a dragon’s shot out and collided with it. I was shocked. I'd only used my fire to light candles and lanterns, I had no idea I could produce such a vicious plume of flames. I looked at Chevelle. “Yes,” he exalted.

  He raised his arms above his head to produce a massive circle of fire. When his eyes returned to mine, he smiled. He liked playing with fire. And then he shoved the fireball toward me with frightening speed. I threw both hands in front of me, palms out, and forced the largest mass of flame I could in the direction of the ball of fire. Chevelle twisted his hands and it dodged up and angled back toward me. I shook my hands frantically, spitting small bullets of heat at it, hoping to break it up. He pulled his hands apart and it split, each side curving back toward me, both closing in fast.

  I leapt forward just as they collided where I'd been standing and lost my footing while I watched the fireworks behind me. I spun into a tumble to keep from landing flat on my face and was still thrilling from the fire play as I rolled to my feet. Magic. I let out a breathless laugh and Chevelle joined in, though he may have merely been amused by my fall.

  We spent the next several hours there in the meadow, sculpting my craft. The exercises grew increasingly more difficult, but it seemed Chevelle was only toying with me. He must have had much experience with fire magic; the flames he produced behaved like an obedient dog. Mine acted more like a wet cat.

  Exhausted by the day’s work, I began to sway a bit. Chevelle led me to the base of an old willow and I slumped against the trunk, finally sliding down to lie on my back. Chevelle reclined against the tree, his legs coming to rest just above my head on the ground.

  I gazed through the immense mass of leaves and branches overhead, breathing deeply. I felt I needed to explain. I rolled my eyes up to look at him as I lightly touched my cheek. “I was searching for my mother’s things …”

  He didn’t respond, merely continued as he had been, staring straight out into the meadow, so I returned to watching the canopy of leaves.

  “I can’t remember her,” I said. I hadn’t really discussed this with anyone before, but now I was talking and I didn’t know where to stop without a response from him. I kept on, explaining my dreams—leaving out the part I had read about the northern clans—and closed my eyes in an attempt to see them clearer. I was recalling the details, her dark hair blowing in the wind, the feeling of being trapped, when my thoughts faded into the blackness of sleep.

  I woke in my own bed, lit by the dim light of a single flame suspended above my table. A flash of embarrassment hit as it dawned on me … Chevelle must have placed me there; he must have seen my home, my room. And then I smiled, because he had left me a flame. I stretched my entire body, rejuvenated from the rest. I was unsure how long I'd slept, but it looked like the sun was rising again and I wanted to be out of the house before I ran into Fannie.

  It was probably too early to hope to see Chevelle. I'd spent the last two days with him, but he hadn’t revealed anything of himself and that had only made me more curious. I retrieved the documents I'd hidden after my second trip to the library to find out whether they'd add anything to the terrible report from the council’s recorder. There wasn’t much new there, more names, but I did notice a watermark on one of the pages. I held it up to the light to better see. It was a council marking and something else.

  I dug out the first pages from under my mattress and examined them closer. The pages directly from t
he recorder’s report all included the same council mark plus a string of characters. I tried to decode them. It seemed one of the symbols might have simply been page numbers; and the others, could they be locators? They did remind me of the codes used in the library, though more elaborate. No one really used the codes, you didn’t need them with magic, but they were added to many of the pages when the fairies had started tracking clan histories.

  Then it hit me I might have had what I needed to find the northern clans in the council library. I suddenly found myself getting up and heading toward the village, regardless of the consequence.

  I was back and forth the entire way to town.

  I couldn’t do it.

  I couldn’t keep myself from doing it.

  What if I got caught?

  Surely I could claim ignorance, I was pretty certain the entire clan thought I was an imbecile.

  Maybe I would just see how close I could get …

  And then I was there, standing in front of the council building and walking in. I began to attempt stealth. It was a poor endeavor, but no one ever seemed to pay much attention to me anyway, aside from the occasional glare of disapproval. I casually leaned around a doorway to see into the next room I needed; there was a small group of villagers talking in low voices. I was trying to figure a way past without being noticed when I overheard something that caught my attention.

  “Evelyn has been a model citizen … doesn’t seem right …”

  They were talking about Evelyn? My stomach pulled as the worry from that day returned. I strained to hear, but could only pick out parts of the conversation.

  “Well on her way to becoming a council member … if anyone should leave …”

  “Yes, but who can trust him …”

  “Why can’t we simply banish … who knows if the spells will even hold … dark magic can’t be trusted …”

  I was furiously trying to hear them, fully irritated they were talking so low, and the harder I listened, the more I perceived a dull, buzzing hum. At once, the group began to scratch at themselves feverishly; a forearm, a stomach, and a face. Each wore an uncomfortable, even frightened, expression as they hurried out of the room in a tight formation into an inner council chamber.

  I was considering how strange they'd acted as I made my way through the now vacant room, but quickly switched to concern when I spotted the library door, unsure if there would be a protection spell on the entry. I walked right through without any obvious repercussions and assumed that, with so many council members around, they must not have thought it necessary.

  The council library was overwhelming. It housed copies of all of the books in the village library, as well as hundreds more that were too delicate or important for public use. And if you believed Fannie’s theories, they held secret documents here as well, things they didn’t want commonly known.

  It was empty apart from me, but I found a shelf to hide behind, just in case, as I laid out the documents on the floor and worked to decipher the letters and numbers. I noticed each of the pages included the letters C and A. I examined the shelves in front of me. The sections seemed to be arranged by groups, and each shelf divided by categories within that group, so I walked the library searching for a section marked for either of those characters. I was about to give up—they didn’t seem to be on any wall—when I noticed some encased shelves in the center of the room. I checked the small section, found it was C, and had no problem locating shelf A.

  I was thinking how easy it had been as I slid my fingers across the books on that shelf. I felt a tingle as I crossed a thin section of pages bound together. I slid them out just as I became aware of some sort of commotion ... that sounded like it was getting closer.

  It wasn’t a tingle indicating what I was looking for, it was a protection spell.

  I ran. As I shot through the rooms, all I could think of was not getting caught. I shoved the pages under my shirt before I made it through the last door. The village was crowded with dancing elves, oblivious to my horror. The protection spell must have only alerted council. I ran from town and pushed through the brush at the edge of the village, taking the shortest direction out of the boundaries. I kept running until I became winded, and then hastily searched for some kind of shelter. Burrowing deep into a briar patch, I struggled to catch my breath. I wrenched the wad of papers from under my shirt, buried them in the soil beside me, and waited silently for my punishment.

  It didn’t come. I’d been naïve to think they would chase me like hounds on a fox; they had magic, they were High Council, for Elvin’s sake. I had stayed in the patch for most of the day, cowering despite myself, but as the sun lowered in the sky, I crawled out on my belly and started the long walk toward home.

  It was late by the time I reached the tree and I was tired enough I didn’t care much about being caught. I didn’t even know if they knew who broke the seal, if they knew I was guilty. Regardless, I was still quiet as I entered the house, then my room, and slid into bed.

  The next morning I slipped out early to call on Junnie. When I reached her door, it was cracked open again. I pushed it aside and scanned the front room—no Junnie. I walked through to check the back, still nothing. Junnie was always extraordinarily clean and organized, so I couldn’t tell if she’d even been home. I wandered back to the front door and was surprised by a tall figure there. The elaborate robe and tassels of a decorated council member blocked my way and the fear returned instantaneously.

  “Elfreda.”

  I cautiously dipped my head in respect, fighting the urge to run.

  “Juniper Fountain has received the calling.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “Wha …” I started to ask him to repeat the statement, but I had heard clear enough. I went for the more important questions. “When?”

  He grimaced at my disrespectful manner. “Not long.”

  Not long? Not long ago? Not long from now? Ugh. Keep pushing. “Where?”

  His mouth tightened. “That is council business, Elfreda. That is Juniper Fountain’s path, not your own.” He stepped aside and rolled his hand to encourage me out. “Make your way.”

  I pushed past him feverishly. I started toward town but quickly recalled the previous day at the library and turned, heading toward home, until I remembered my run in with Fannie. I had nowhere to go. A pain throbbed deep in my chest as I ran for the clearing where I'd spent the day with Chevelle.

  He was there, waiting for me. The pain in my chest dulled a little. Or maybe it was only overwhelmed by a new pressure. I crossed to him slowly. Junnie was all I'd had since I came here and now she was gone. I wanted nothing more of Fannie. What would I do? By the time I reached him, I knew what I wanted. I wanted to retrieve my mother’s things from the vault. I would leave this miserable place behind.

  I made my stance more formal to match his. “I want to learn transfer magic.”

  His mouth tightened and he turned his head, as if a half shake of no.

  “You taught me fire.”

  “For protection, Freya.”

  “Please,” I begged. He hesitated. I didn’t know how to convince him. Was it too soon for me to learn? I knew there was an order to the spells, knew you must earn the knowledge. If you went too fast or out of sequence you could endanger yourself.

  “There is no hurry,” he tried to persuade me.

  “There is,” I insisted. “I am running.” I didn’t know why I chose that word, I wasn’t bound here. Leaving would have sufficed, but it felt like running, felt like escape. And deep down I knew I was trapped, knew someone would stop me. Yes, I was running.

  I swung my head to locate a noise at the edge of the clearing behind me. Long robes … two council members. Chevelle grabbed my shoulders as he spoke in a low voice. “Home, Freya. Run.” I didn’t hesitate, I sprinted straight toward the trees without looking back.

  The house seemed empty, but I didn’t check. I went directly to my room and closed the door behind me. The single flame still flickere
d above my bedside table. As I walked closer, I noticed a package on my bed. I spun my hand and lit the room to better see. It was a large ivory box tied with tweed. I slipped the small note from under the knot.

  Dearest Elfreda,

  I must away without saying good-bye. I am sure you cannot understand, but please trust in me. Don this immediately. –J.

  I tugged at the tie and the string fell away. I took a deep breath as I opened the lid. It seemed like I couldn’t quite catch my breath anymore. I reached inside and drew out a long white gown. A dress?

  I couldn't fathom her reasoning, but I knew Junnie must have gone through much to get me this package and I would do as she'd asked. Numbly, I stared at her words while I unfastened my shirt and removed my sash. The pouch I had rescued from the vault fell to the bed. How had I forgotten? I kicked off my shoes, and removed my top and pants, before sliding the gown over my head and straightening the length with my hands. I laced the corset tight at my waist and adjusted the plunging neckline as I stepped into my best shoes.

  I retrieved the velvet pouch from the bed to examine the contents, but before I loosened the binding I heard a crash behind me; three council guards had busted open my door. I slipped the pouch under the long bell sleeve of the dress as they crossed the room and grabbed my arms.

  Chapter Five

  Trials

  I stood in the center of a council chamber I had never seen before. The walls were lined with vast libraries of the earliest books, and between each shelf were ornate mirrors and ancient decorations. Overhead was a great vaulted ceiling, embellished by various paintings and carvings. Across the empty space before me was an elaborate table that seated six leaders of High Council. The guards who had brought me here had released my arms and stood a few feet back on either side. Left of one were council members and as I glanced right, Chevelle walked in and stood at attention, facing the council table. I heard others enter behind us, presumably witnesses, and I wondered if Junnie was among them.