The Spell of Rosette

by Kim Falconer

  Jarrod buried his face in the back of her neck. She turned her head to kiss him. The sweetness of his lips on hers, his hands shifting to the small of her back and the brush of his eyelashes on her face sent a rush of warmth through her body.

  ‘Thanks for the rescue,’ she said, her eyes closing.

  ‘When we’re out of danger, you can thank me properly.’

  But she barely heard him. She was already walking in her dreams.

  There’s a handclap, or is it thunder?

  A voice in the dark speaks to me.

  ‘I want to show you something,’ it says.

  It’s a strong voice and masculine—I don’t recognise it, but it’s so familiar…

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘You’d call me the Entity.’

  ‘I doubt it. I don’t know anyone by that name.’

  ‘I believe you do.’

  It’s misty and humid, the ground sodden and the air thickened by a brown fog. My skin tingles, nostrils burn.

  ‘Where is this place?’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have asked if I did.’

  ‘Come,’ the voice commands. ‘Come and see what has happened to your world.’

  I know this isn’t my world. It looks dead, and Gaela is not dead.

  The fog gives way to a dark street. Rain is falling and the droplets sting. There are pools of brown water in the potholes. I’m glad I’ve got my boots on.

  ‘Keep your eyes covered. Don’t let the water touch your lips.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it’s acid.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘It’s poison.’

  I flip up my hood and keep my eyes down. I’m walking along the edge of a street under enormous buildings. Very ugly. They are ominous in the dark, some of them glowing with eerie lights. It feels like eyes watching.

  ‘If the water is poison, how does anything live?’

  ‘It doesn’t.’

  My head lifts at a sound in the distance.

  ‘Something lives. Look there.’

  A dark figure with booted feet approaches—a man, I think. As they come closer, another figure, slighter in build but just as tall, slips through a strange wire fence and is blocked by the man. They’re struggling. Then a sound explodes in the air like a firecracker and the man drops to the ground. The other bends over him, going through pockets, taking things.

  ‘What is this place?’ I whisper the question this time.

  I feel the Entity pull at my mind.

  ‘Earth.’ It tugs harder. ‘Quickly,’ it says. ‘She’ll not be pleased that I brought you here.’

  ‘Who won’t be pleased?’

  The Entity ignores my question. ‘I want to show you how things can be—a different possibility.’

  In an instant the street and towering buildings blur. Everything turns into tiny little squares, opaque puzzle pieces that slowly brighten with colour and light. The scene in front of me opens into a broad expanse of parkland. There are flowers and vegetables spilling out of their beds, young trees stretching towards a bright sun and fountains of water gushing up, refracting the light into countless rainbows.

  ‘Much better,’ I smile.

  ‘You can let this water touch your face.’

  I push my hood back, laughing with the Entity as I stand in front of the fountain. Reaching out my hand, I let the water flow over it like a blessing.

  ‘What has to be done to…to make it…’ I struggle with the question.

  ‘To make this possibility “real”?’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘You have to activate the Spell.’

  ‘What spell?’

  ‘You have to take it back to Earth.’

  The Entity sounds desperate, agitated.

  ‘How?’

  There was no response.

  ‘How!’ I demand.

  ‘Ask Jarrod,’ the Entity finally replies. It sounds a long way away.

  ‘Jarrod? What’s he got to do with it?’

  When Rosette opened her eyes, the fire had burned low. Jarrod’s arm was around her, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm against her back.

  I’ve got to remember this dream…

  She closed her eyes again and fell asleep.

  CHAPTER 17

  ‘Pick up the pace,’ Nell called out as she urged them along.

  Rosette leaned forward in the saddle, blowing her breath into her hands. It took almost a day and a half to get to the wide banks of the Nadian tributary. The tidal river skirted the wooded lands, eventually winding its way to the granite pools of Treeon and the Terse River below. The waters were high this time of year, crested with whitecaps. They’d been following the downstream course for over an hour but still could find no safe crossing.

  ‘It’s too deep, too cold,’ An’ Lawrence said over the raging sound of the water. He was doubling with Nell on one of the mountain ponies, his arms wrapped around her waist, Scylla draped between.

  ‘Shall we take a break?’ Jarrod called back, spray from the river moistening his face. ‘We can get a fire going and warm up. Have some food.’

  Nell agreed, pointing at a group of tall granite boulders before she dismounted. ‘They’ll block the wind.’ She led her horse, An’ Lawrence still astride, towards the standing stones.

  I feel like fish. How about you, Maudi? Drayco sent the message on the run, loping towards pockets of whirling eddies along the banks of the river. Rosette and Jarrod followed Nell to the boulders, loosening girths so the horses could have a good breather.

  ‘How close are we to Treeon?’ Rosette asked, looking out towards the distant valley from the shadow of the giant stones. ‘I don’t recognise any of this.’

  ‘Not far now. We’ve got to find a crossing, then go around the foothills to the east. By then, we’ll be within a day of the temple,’ Nell said, following her daughter’s line of sight.

  ‘You’ll be within a day of Treeon Temple,’ Rosette said. ‘Jarrod and I are turning off and heading for the western sea coast.’

  ‘So this is it?’ Nell looked at her daughter and Jarrod, walking away before either replied.

  ‘This is it,’ Rosette said, watching her retreat.

  She took the horses to a quiet eddy, watering them and redistributing the supplies. Nell and An’ Lawrence would need food for one more day at the most; she and Jarrod would go through four times that much before they reached Morzone. She occupied herself with the details of it. Keeping busy, to her, was the same as keeping calm.

  A flash of movement upstream caught her eye. She smiled. Drayco sat stock-still on a rocky outcropping, his right paw periodically darting into the stream, raking the churning eddy with lightning speed. Three enormous fish already lay flapping on the river bank.

  He purred happily in her mind.

  ‘Catch us something, did you, Dray-Dray?’

  Salmon! Lots of salmon. I love pink fish.

  Me too. ‘You’re the best temple cat in the entire world!’ she said aloud as she secured the last saddlebag.

  A hiss from Scylla turned her around. At least the Sword Master’s familiar was feeling well enough to protest that statement. Nell and An’ Lawrence had eased her down from the mountain horse and placed her by the fire. Nell had it blazing already.

  ‘The best male temple cat in all the world, Drayco. Tell her that’s what I meant.’

  The tawny female hissed again before chortling.

  ‘Jarrod!’ Rosette called, about to inform him of Drayco’s catch, but he was already making a spit across the fire.

  Rosette tethered the horses in front of some thick brambles, the only greenery still available at the edge of the pine woods. The fish were cooking when she returned, everyone’s face flushed from the fire. She sat amongst them, soaking up the warmth.

  ‘Delicious,’ Rosette said, taking another bite and wiping her mouth on her sleeve. ‘Smoky, but delicious.’

  �
��You always liked fish in the wild.’ Jarrod winked at her and smiled.

  ‘Still do.’ She leaned into him, kissing his cheek through his stubble.

  ‘Listen, you two,’ An’ Lawrence interrupted. ‘This isn’t a picnic we’re on. When we find a crossing, we’ll be splitting up, and the gods only know whether the Lupins are going to be on our heels, or yours. There won’t be any time to linger. You’ll have to ride hard from dawn until dusk each day, hard enough to cover the distance, but not so hard you cripple the horses. You’ve got to get off this continent, remember? You’re being tracked.’

  ‘I doubt the Lupins will enjoy crossing that much water,’ Nell said, her eyes sparkling as she spoke.

  ‘How would you know what the Lupins would do? Dogs can swim,’ An’ Lawrence pointed out.

  ‘They aren’t dogs.’

  ‘What about Kreshkali?’ Rosette asked. ‘What do you think she will do next?’

  ‘There’s no telling,’ Nell said. ‘She…’

  Maudi! Riders headed this way, fast!

  Rosette held her hand out to silence them all. Where, Drayco?

  Downstream.

  Jarrod stood, waving them quiet. ‘Someone’s coming.’

  ‘Get down,’ she whispered. She dropped to a crouch, pulling him down beside her.

  An’ Lawrence was on his feet, hand on his sword hilt.

  Dray! What do you sense?

  Two riders. One is on the Sword Master’s black beast.

  Do you recognise them, Dray? Can you tell who they are? She looked across at An’ Lawrence. ‘Who’d be riding Diablai?’ she whispered.

  ‘Zero or…’ He didn’t finish the sentence. ‘They’d be searching for us.’

  It’s Zero, Drayco confirmed. And him…the bard!

  ‘Who?’ Jarrod asked.

  ‘Friends,’ Rosette answered. She scrambled up, pulling Jarrod along with her. ‘What do we do?’

  Everyone froze.

  ‘Go!’ Nell whispered, motioning to the horses. ‘Get out of here, now! Find a ford to the north. We don’t want to cross tracks.’

  Rosette hesitated, looking from Nell to An’ Lawrence.

  ‘Now!’ Nell snapped her fingers. ‘Before either of you are seen.’

  In seconds Rosette was untying Wren and her mountain horse, tightening their girths and leading them towards the fire. Jarrod met her halfway.

  ‘Find Maka’ra,’ Nell instructed as she tucked a handful of gold into her daughter’s saddlebag. ‘And keep the horses. You can ferry them across the strait to Rahana Iti. Maka’ra will take you on from there. You can trust him completely.’

  ‘I know,’ Rosette said.

  ‘Leave no trace behind.’ She gave Rosette a hug, holding the horse as she mounted.

  ‘Try to remember some of the things I’ve taught you,’ An’ Lawrence said. He was at her side, taking a twist out of the reins. Looking up at Jarrod, he added, ‘Mind each other.’

  Rosette brushed her hand across her eyes and nodded, urging her horse into a trot. Drayco! Come now.

  Drayco sidled up to Scylla and gave her a nose-touch before loping off with Rosette and Jarrod.

  A minute later and there was no trace of them at all.

  Eventually they found a shallow ford. The icy water spread over a wide expanse, barely reaching their horses’ knees. They rode slowly, standing in their stirrups, watching for sharp rocks or sudden holes, but the river floor was all pebble, the fine gravel crunching beneath the horses’ hooves as they plodded through the rushing water. They scrambled up the bank, slippery with recent rain, and moved easily through the valley before heading northwest to find a mountain pass.

  Rosette stopped at the top of a particularly steep ravine. Her horse was breathing hard, flanks sucked in behind the ribs.

  She gestured to Jarrod, shaking her head. ‘Wren might be able to run on ice water and brambles, but this one can’t.’

  ‘You’re right. They both need to graze. The foothill valleys could still have some decent pasture,’ he said. He turned to Drayco. Can you still hear Scylla?

  Dray cocked his head to the side for a moment. She said they’re already packed up. Nell and the Sword Master are on Diablai. The bard’s crying.

  Rosette looked at her hands, her thumbs pinching the reins.

  ‘Who’s the bard again?’ Jarrod asked.

  ‘My friend…from Treeon.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Clay.’

  ‘Why won’t Drayco say it?’

  Rosette shook her head. ‘He has his reasons.’

  Jarrod frowned. ‘How did you meet this bard?’

  Rosette smiled at the memory. ‘He gave me a ride to the temple on his family’s plough horse—massive beast.’

  ‘Clay?’

  ‘No, the horse, silly.’

  Jarrod’s lips formed a thin line. ‘If he’s in tears, he must believe you’re dead.’

  He didn’t at first. Scylla said he was ready to ride through an army of Lupins to rescue you.

  ‘He might still have to fight that army if they don’t get moving,’ Rosette said, twisting in the saddle to check her horse’s breathing. It was slower now and more even.

  ‘We could be in the same situation,’ Jarrod warned, encouraging Wren forward. ‘Shall we move on?’

  Rosette followed silently before sending a message to Drayco: Tell Scylla we’re on our way and to ask the Sword Master to watch over Clay.

  Drayco trotted alongside Rosette and looked up at her. She says not to worry. He always has.

  ‘So what’s he like?’ Jarrod had removed his mare’s saddle and tethered her with the other horse in a chesthigh patch of waning yellow oat grass.

  ‘What’s who like?’ Rosette picked up her horse’s hooves one at a time, checking for stones. ‘Damn!’

  ‘Problem?’

  ‘You don’t have an anvil and forge with you, by any chance?’

  Jarrod raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Loose nail,’ Rosette explained. ‘The shoe’s still snug, but this isn’t good. One twist and the whole thing could come off. There are only two nails on the inside wall. Who shoes like that?’

  ‘Someone in a hurry.’ Jarrod bent down, running his hand over the nail head and testing the wiggle.

  ‘White foot too. Just our luck,’ Rosette said, staring at the horse’s one white sock and cream-coloured hoof.

  ‘The roads should improve in a few days,’ Jarrod said. ‘We’ll make it.’

  ‘What roads?’

  Jarrod smiled, but said no more. He gathered wood, stacking it in a pile as the sun disappeared behind the western foothills.

  ‘You two sound like you were pretty close.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You and Clay.’

  Rosette snorted. ‘Yes and no. I mean, we had a lot of laughs and fooled around…’ She paused, tilting her head to one side, gauging Jarrod’s expression. ‘I trusted him but always felt that something wasn’t quite right.’

  ‘What’s he look like?’

  Rosette laughed. ‘Jarrod, are you that jealous? Seriously, what difference does it make what he looks like?’

  ‘Just tell me.’

  She clicked her tongue. ‘Like a lanky farm boy. Glorious tattoo of a forest stag on his right forearm, after the fashion of the Ice Clans. Very bright blue eyes. Wonderful singing voice…’

  ‘He’s a journeyman bard?’

  She nodded.

  ‘So he journeys?’

  ‘That’s implicit in the name, yes.’ She scrunched her nose. ‘Why all these questions?’

  ‘Just tell me, what colour’s his hair?’

  ‘Jarrod, really! You’re getting obsessed.’

  ‘Does your bard have bright red hair?’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘How’d you know?’

  ‘I think he was in Lividica a few weeks ago, nosing around about you.’

  ‘He was where?’

  ‘Lividica. A bard like your Clay played in the pubs and
at the markets, asking all kinds of questions about the de Santos and their daughter Rosette. I think someone finally told him about the Matosh family and Kalindi Rose. He disappeared straight after, before I could confront him.’

  ‘But…that doesn’t make sense. He went away to Morzone for weeks but…’

  ‘That bard’s the reason I decided to come looking for you, Rosette. I knew something wasn’t right.’

  She was silent for some time.

  He lied to us, Maudi? Drayco asked, returning to the campsite with a small bush-pig in his mouth.

  ‘Oh, bravo, hunter-cat!’ she praised him as he dropped it at her feet.

  Deception? Drayco asked again.

  Maybe so. But we’ve lied to him too, she answered.

  So it’s even?

  It doesn’t really work that way.

  I didn’t think so.

  Jarrod joined them by the fire, unloading another armful of wood. He snapped off small branches and laid them over a mound of dry grass. ‘So, did Clay and you…’

  ‘Please stop,’ Rosette interrupted. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘Just trying to unravel a mystery.’

  ‘Whatever it was, it must have been more than it seemed if he was looking for evidence of me in Lividica.’

  ‘He claimed to be your suitor, keen to meet your family.’

  ‘I don’t think that was it. We never talked about the future in those terms.’ She cupped her hands around the small flame as Jarrod crouched down to blow it into life. ‘We’re lovers, sure, and he’s a friend. Very funny and bright,’ she said as the sparks leapt into flames. ‘There wasn’t any talk of suiting.’

  Jarrod reached for more fuel. ‘I see.’

  ‘It wasn’t like what you and I had…have?’

  ‘You mean, like you and I and Liam had?’

  Rosette lifted her head. ‘Jarrod, can you let that go too? That was years ago.’ She wrinkled her brow. ‘How is Liam? Did he…’

  ‘Liam’s fine,’ Jarrod snapped.

  ‘Working for your pa?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Family yet?’

  ‘No.’

  She studied Jarrod’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’