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by Patricia Reding

Lucy’s mouth dropped open. “Well, I never—”

  “That’s right,” Eden interrupted. “You never give any thought to our wishes.”

  The woman’s gaze shifted to Eden, even as a small crowd formed around them all. Marshall, Jerrett, Velia, Basha, Therese, Jules, and Broden, all approached.

  “Look—” Lucy said.

  “No, you look,” Reigna interrupted. “What do you think we are anyway? Your . . . children? Your minions to be ordered about? Your slaves?”

  “Reigna,” Basha cautioned.

  She didn’t turn her eyes from Lucy. “This has got to stop.”

  Lucy frowned. “I need to know where you girls are so that we can keep you safe. With Carlie already missing, we haven’t the resources for further searches.”

  Reigna’s eyes rested momentarily on each member of the gathered crowd, one by one. Finally, she turned back to Lucy. “We need to get something straight here,” she said. “Eden and I are not little children that require watching every moment.”

  “No, of course you’re not children.” The woman’s displeasure was evident. “But—”

  “No, Lucy, there are no ‘buts.’”

  “What do you mean?”

  Reigna let her breath out slowly, audibly. “Lucy, we appreciate everything you do for us—everything you’ve done for us. We appreciate the danger you’re willing to face for our benefit. We appreciate this place,” she said, indicating her surroundings with a wave of her hand, “but we are not going to respond to your every call. We are young women in our own right. Grown women. And we mean to be treated as such.”

  Lucy tapped her foot.

  Eden stepped forward. “Lucy, we love you. Really, we do. But this is not going to work.”

  “That’s right,” Reigna said. “It seems you’ve done all this to ensure our safety and to help us to learn about the positions of authority we’re to assume one day. Well, you should know that we’ve decided to take on those positions, effective immediately.”

  “That’s impossible.” Lucy turned away, apparently intending to ignore the twins.

  “Stop, Lucy,” Eden ordered.

  She started walking.

  Marshall reached out and grabbed her arm. When she stared at him, with a tilt of his head toward the twins, he directed her attention back to them.

  Slowly, she turned around.

  Reigna looked at her. “Listen, Lucy, you’ve helped rear us and train us. But you need to understand that you have to back off now. If you don’t, only two things can come about . . . and you won’t like either of them.”

  “Girls,” Basha stepped up.

  “No, Basha,” Eden said, “Lucy needs to hear us out.”

  The Oathtaker nodded and stepped back.

  Lucy’s brow rose in question. “Very well. What have you to say?”

  “Just this. Eden and I need to figure some things out for ourselves. If we don’t, we’ll never be capable or worthy of the positions for which you, yourself, have sought to prepare us.”

  “And if we do,” Eden said, “our frustration and annoyance at the way you’ve treated us, will have bad results.”

  This time, Therese stepped forward. “Careful, now. Don’t say anything you might regret later.”

  The twins looked her way.

  “She needs to hear this,” Eden said. “If she doesn’t back off, she’s the one who will lose out in the future.”

  “How’s that?” Marshall asked. “Best to get everything out in the open, I say,” he murmured to Jerrett and Velia who stood at his side.

  “It’s like we said,” Reigna glanced his way, “if we don’t assert ourselves now, we’ll never become worthy . . . and Lucy loses.”

  “And if we do assert ourselves now, but have to fight her every step of the way, we’ll proceed without her in the future—and she loses,” Eden added.

  Lucy’s jaw dropped. She stood tall, turned away, then took a few steps before turning back. “And I suppose you two have some demands about my moving in with you?”

  The twins looked at one another.

  “We do,” Reigna said.

  Lucy stood, mute, her eyes afire.

  “You may move in. But if you’re overbearing, we’ll ask you to move back out,” Eden said.

  A collective sigh of relief rose from the gathered crowd. The twins looked up at them all. Then, one by one, Lucy leading the way, they returned to their duties. Only Marshall who stood at Reigna’s side, and Jerrett, who stood at Eden’s, remained.

  “Well done,” Marshall whispered, grinning.

  “I’ll say,” Jerrett added.

  The four exchanged looks, faint smiles upon their lips.

  What none of them knew, what they couldn’t know, was that at that same time, Lucy struggled to hold back her own elation. The girls indeed possessed what they required for their journey ahead. Finally! She’d waited for this day for what felt like an eternity.

  Chapter Six

  Days passed after Marshall and Jerrett left for Chiran, and Basha and Therese set out on their journey. Reigna and Eden felt their most ardent supporters had abandoned them. In the meantime, they’d received no word from Mara and Dixon. Whenever a guard made his way back to the compound center, the twins rushed out to greet him, in hopes that their loved ones had returned. But as yet, it was not to be. If it was not for the fact that Lucy seemed to have heard what they’d said to her, things would be even more difficult. As it was, the woman gave them the space they demanded, although not without occasionally displaying her displeasure.

  Eden pleasantly surprised her sister when she informed her the evening after their confrontation with Lucy, that she agreed they should leave the compound. Neither knew their ultimate destination, but they looked forward to getting out on their own. In hushed conversations held whenever they were alone, the twins discussed things they would take along. They divided up the list of goods they would require and then, bit by bit, collected their gear, always with an eye toward keeping anyone from discerning their plans.

  “We’ve gathered quite a load,” Reigna commented as she looked over their collection of supplies.

  “Yes . . . I think we need to start culling.”

  “Unless we intend to take a carriage.”

  “Right,” Eden chuckled. “Try to keep Lucy from noticing that.”

  Reigna sat across from her twin. “It’s like an armory in here,” she said.

  Eden grabbed a bag, then emptied its contents on the floor. She counted the knives it had held. “Twenty.” Her eyes flashed upward. “Twenty? Doesn’t that seem like a bit of overkill?”

  Reigna shrugged, then picked up another bag. From it she pulled out a small pouch that held gold coins and another with some of the Oathtakers’ crystals. She emptied yet another that held soap, twine, hooks, and first aid items. Next, she dumped out the contents of a sack that had been filled with salt and packets of various dried herbs.

  When through, the twins glanced down at the three bows and the half dozen full quivers they’d pilfered. Finally, Reigna pulled out an item she’d concealed against the wall.

  “A sword?” Eden asked.

  Reigna grinned. “Not just any sword.”

  Her sister took a closer look. “The sword?”

  “The very one.”

  “The sword, Reigna? What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking it was the only one I could get my hands on. I saw Lucy store it one day in the secret place she keeps it.”

  Her twin’s mouth dropped open. “But there are numerous swords in the training huts.”

  “Yes, but they’re just for practice. The balance isn’t right on any of them and their edges are dull. What was I to do? Ask someone to sharpen one for me? And then be left with a sharp but inferior blade anyway?”

  “Reigna, there are other weapons in the armory.”

  “They all belong to someone. And they’d all be found missing.”

  Her sister held her gaze. “Reigna. The great sword?
Why not just take the scepter and the crown as well?”

  “Well, I had thought of that . . .”

  “You’re joking!” Eden’s eyes opened wide in surprise.

  Her twin broke out a great smile.

  “Reigna, no. What if something happened to it?” Eden shook her head. “No. We should leave it here for safekeeping. We don’t need a sword.”

  “Oh, really?” Reigna ran her fingers over the intricate carvings on the weapon’s hilt before turning her gaze back to her sister. “Have you ever tried to defend yourself against one of these,” she shook the weapon, “with a six inch blade?” She scowled. “Of course we need a sword.”

  “But—”

  “There are no ‘buts,’” Reigna interrupted.

  “‘There are no buts,’” her sister repeated, grinning. “You sound like Mara every time you say that.”

  Reigna’s face fell.

  Eden put her hand on her sister’s arm. “I know. I miss them too. But I can’t go along with your taking . . . that,” she said, gesturing toward the weapon.

  “Oh, all right then, if you insist, I’ll find another. But I’m not leaving without one.”

  The two sat quietly for a minute, each lost in her own thoughts.

  “I wish they’d come back,” Reigna said. “Maybe then we wouldn’t have to go anywhere.”

  “I thought you wanted to go.”

  “I guess I do. But even more, I want Mara and Dixon back.”

  Nodding, Eden looked back at their inventory of goods. “All right, you find another sword. I don’t need one. I suck with swords.”

  Her twin laughed.

  “I suppose that each of us should carry some of the gold and some of the magic crystals at all times,” Eden then suggested. “But I wonder if there are any of these things we could do without.”

  Her sister picked up a sack of the magic crystals. “Good thing they let us try these during our training,” she said. “They weren’t sure they’d work for us. I’m glad they do. They certainly make great weapons.”

  “Yes, they do.”

  “Well then, how many knives for us each, do you think?” Reigna asked.

  “Six each for the sheathes on our belts, and there’s also room for two more blades on each of our boots.”

  “Let’s see then. Six for me, and six for you, makes twelve, plus four twos for our boots, is eight. So that makes . . . what? Twenty? Twenty! We have exactly the right number then. You choose your ten favorite, and I’ll do the same.

  They both reached for a blade with a scrimshaw handle belonging to Mara, one she’d purchased back when they were infants. Its balance was perfect, as their Oathtaker had noted many times over the years.

  “You take it,” Reigna said.

  “No, you.”

  They laughed nervously.

  “Really,” Reigna said, “I want you to have it. Also, you’re the better archer. So, which of the bows do you want?”

  Eden chose a perfectly balanced, lightweight bow. Then her twin picked one of the remaining two.

  “How many arrows?” Eden asked.

  “The quivers hold twenty each.”

  They dumped all the arrows out, sorted through them for the best ones, then re-filled four quivers—two for each.

  Reigna looked at the remaining supplies. “When we split things up like this, it doesn’t seem like there’s all that much here.”

  “No, but we haven’t any foodstuffs yet.”

  “Yes, that’s right.” Grabbing two saddlebags, Reigna put one in her lap and handed the other over. Then, “Start packing,” she said.

  They found that all the materials they’d collected fit comfortably with room leftover.

  “There’s just one extra bow, and a few extra arrows,” Eden said.

  “We’ll leave them behind.”

  “Now, for food. What’s the plan?”

  “We’ll hunt for it,” Reigna said.

  Her sister bit the inside of her cheek, thinking. “But we should take some dried meats, berries, and nuts. Even a fortnight’s supply wouldn’t take all that much room, or weigh too much. I suggest an extra bag just for those things.”

  “Agreed.”

  “We can raid the kitchens after dinner then,” Eden said. “With that done, I guess we’ll be ready to leave at any time.”

  “I only need to get another sword . . . and return this one, of course,” Reigna said, her hand resting on the great sword.

  “I can’t believe Lucy hasn’t missed it.”

  “I’ll bring it in today. If she sees me, I’ll just tell her that I was practicing with it.” Reigna looked closely at her twin. “You sure about this?”

  “I’m sure. Lucy’s been fine lately, but you know, I’m really beginning to think that this is the right thing to do. I’m tired of spending my days reading, and studying, and with weapons training.”

  “Actually, Lucy’s been more than fine. Who would have expected?”

  “I’m sure she wouldn’t be if she knew what we were up to,” Eden said.

  “Hmmm. So then, when do we leave?”

  “We’ve been riding every morning for weeks now. So, I suppose we could leave any time. Tomorrow, even.”

  “No,” Reigna shook her head, “we could never explain riding out with all this gear.”

  “I suppose you’re right. It’ll take some time to move it all, though. What do you think? We could store it in that cave we found the other day.”

  “Good idea. I guess there’s no hurry, really.” Reigna paused. Then, she said, “Broden picked great horses for us, didn’t he?”

  “He sure did. Ira and Mingo are perfect.”

  “But . . . I wish we’d hear something from Mara and Dixon.”

  “I know,” Eden agreed, tears springing to her eyes.

  “Lucy says she’s tried to contact them through the compact.”

  “Yes.”

  “But they haven’t responded.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Do you think they’re all right?” Reigna asked.

  Her twin frowned. “Hope so.”

  “But you’re sure about us leaving here. Right?”

  “I’m certain.” Fighting back tears, Eden looked up and away. “I miss them so much.”

  “Me too.”

  Just then, someone shouted out their names from below.

  “So, we’ll keep to our usual schedules and then, tomorrow morning, we’ll start moving things out,” Reigna said as she stood, preparing to respond to the call.

  “Tomorrow morning,” her twin confirmed.

  Chapter Seven

  Exhausted, Dixon halted, happy to call an end to their traveling for the day. His back hurt. His feet hurt. His head hurt. For the past two days, he and Mara had followed a scant trail up the mountain that would take them back to the main route. The going was slow.

  He dropped his saddlebags and backpack, then surveyed the immediate area for kindling to start a fire. The cool night air boasted the fresh scent of pine. He flinched as a bird flew out from the nearby brush, before returning to his task. He needed to hurry, as darkness—and with it, the cold—would soon descend.

  After accumulating a sizable stack of dry leaves and twigs, he reached forward and flicked his fingers. The heap burst into flames. Once done, he widened his search for fuel to add to the fire, chopping up larger dry branches for use when the fire got going well.

  “Is your hand better now?”

  Mara’s query surprised him into silence. After traveling for weeks now, she seemed more comfortable with him than at the outset of their journey, but she still flinched any time he got too close to her, and she rarely spoke to him unless he initiated the conversation. He continually reminded himself to allow her the space she needed and not to take personally, the fact that she kept a considerable distance between them. But his heart ached. He longed to bask in her beauty, to touch her. He couldn’t forget, even for a moment, that she’d be surprised, and maybe even frighten
ed, if he acted with too much familiarity. From time to time he found her watching him from a distance, but each time when his eyes met hers, she averted her gaze.

  “Dixon?”

  “Oh, yes.” He tugged on the bandage wrapped around his left hand. “Sorry. Yes, I think it’s better.” He wanted to keep the conversation moving, but found himself suddenly at a loss for words. He thought it odd that Mara could be right at his side, yet he could still miss her so much. He wondered if it might be easier if they were actually physically separated. At least then she wouldn’t be so close, yet so far away.

  “Did you say something?” she asked, turning his way.

  He pulled back. Was her magic working? He certainly hadn’t meant for her to hear his thoughts. But . . . had she? He grinned.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  Another false alarm. He turned away. “No, I didn’t say anything.”

  “It’s not infected, is it?”

  He faced her. Immediately, she turned away to resume her task, grooming their mounts.

  He watched in silence for a moment. “I don’t think so. I’ll take a look after we settle in.” For a moment, he found himself grateful for the injury he’d suffered when he cut his hand the previous day. At least it got Mara talking to him, if only for a moment.

  She lifted her chin in response.

  “Dried foodstuffs? Or, fresh game?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Whatever you think.”

  He breathed in deeply, then slowly exhaled. Though tired, they could use a good meal. “Fresh game it is then.”

  After grabbing his bow and a few arrows, he stepped into the woods. Minutes later he returned, carrying a small hare. By the time he’d finished cleaning it and had set the meat over the fire, Mara was through currying and brushing the horses.

  She crouched down near the fire, pierced a couple of potatoes they’d purchased along with some other supplies in a village a few days back, and then dropped them into the coals.

  “There’s a small stream back there,” Dixon said, motioning behind himself. “I’ll fill our canteens now before it’s fully dark.”

  She handed hers over, then sat down to warm up, pulling her cloak more closely around herself.