The Rebel Queen

by Jenny McKane

  Her eyes widened. Hansa! The large wolf was running toward the house, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, as if she were smiling. Behind her, she could see Sidsel, galloping with difficulty through the snow.

  Her heart leapt, and she sank down onto her knees, her head bent in gratitude. Thank you, Goddess, she whispered. Thank you.

  The wolf was approaching the house, staring inside with her large yellow eyes. She located Avalon and started howling.

  Hansa, my friend, she called, in her mind. Can you hear me?

  But the wolf kept howling. No answer came to her. Of course, she should have realized. The water bowl had given her the window of opportunity to speak to the animals, but the power had faded now. The spell that ensnared them had re-built the wall blocking all communication.

  Sidsel was almost here now. Avalon’s heart hammered, staring at her beloved horse. Sidsel was almost as white as the snow. She had missed her animals so much.

  “They have returned? I heard Hansa’s howling.”

  Skyresh was next to her, smiling, staring out the window at the animals. His blue eyes looked jubilant.

  “Yes,” she whispered, standing up. “But I can’t talk to them to know what is happening.”

  Skyresh strained his neck, staring into the distance. “I can’t see the others,” he said, frowning. “Maybe they didn’t get back to the camp after all, but then where would they have been?”

  Avalon shook her head. The joy that she had felt, just seeing her beloved animals again, was slowly fading. She couldn’t talk to them. And Skyresh was right. There was no sign that the others from the camp were making their way here.

  They were still imprisoned with no way of escape and no way to talk to the animals.

  Everard had come and was standing on the other side of Avalon, staring out the window.

  “It’s alright,” he said slowly. “I know they will be coming, Avalon. The animals have run ahead; that is all. You wait and see.”

  They were all silent, staring out the window. Ten minutes passed. Avalon pressed her face against the glass, entreating the Goddess.

  She was just about to turn away and say that it was useless when Skyresh’s eyes lit up again.

  “There!” he said, pointing excitedly. “I see them!”

  Avalon gasped. Yes, it was true! She could see a group of riders, struggling through the snow. There was about ten of them, their thick winter cloaks tight around them. They had veils covering their faces against the wind. She couldn’t tell who was among them yet.

  She leaned heavily against Skyresh, breathing deeply with relief. He put an arm around her, hugging her tightly against him.

  Next to her, Everard felt a pang of sadness. Avalon had turned instinctively towards Skyresh. He was right. There was no hope for them anymore.

  But then the sadness cleared. Everything was about to change as soon as the riders arrived. It dawned on him, suddenly and vividly, that his life was about to veer in another, unexpected direction. A direction that he could never have imagined.

  He frowned, shaking his head. Was this intuition? A prophecy? Or simply the addled thoughts of an imprisoned man?

  The riders approached the house, dismounting. They unwound their veils from their faces. Everard could see several men, none of whom he recognized. And there were two women among them. The first was old, so ancient that she was bent like a twig. He could clearly see the lines of age on her face and the weariness in her visage. For a moment, he thought that it could be Mother Oda, but no, this woman was as old as her, but different. And Avalon had told him that Mother Oda had passed away, not long after his memory had been wiped.

  The second woman was younger and slim. Her black hood fell from her head, and he could see her shaking her long, auburn hair. She turned a pale face towards the house.

  His breath stilled suddenly. Her eyes were the purest green that he had ever seen, like a mossy pond on a cold winter’s day.

  Who was she?

  And why did he feel again that nothing was ever going to be as it once was?

  Chapter Seventeen

  They had arrived. Avalon felt almost faint with relief. But how were they going to communicate and find a way out of this forsaken house?

  She gazed out the window, watching Mother Asta dismount her horse with difficulty. She frowned, overcome with guilt, which warred with the relief that flooded through her that the old Mother was here. She was so very old and shouldn’t be travelling so far and so quickly in this weather. Weariness was etched on the woman’s face.

  She glanced at the others, smiling broadly. Escolen was here. Her heart gladdened to see the cheerful, large man, who was also happened to be the most effective organizer of the Stromel spy network in Agnoria. She smiled at the others but paused slightly when she saw that Minna was here. She couldn’t help it. She automatically turned to look at Skyresh, seeking his reaction.

  But Skyresh wasn’t gazing at Minna like a lovesick man should after a separation. He seemed equally pleased to see everybody.

  Minna had spotted him, but then a strange thing happened. Instead of bursting into tears or waving furiously at her boyfriend, Minna turned away.

  And stared at Everard.

  Avalon turned to the man next to her. His gaze was equally fixated on the young woman with the flowing auburn hair. If Avalon didn’t know any better, she would swear that they were lovers who had just reunited.

  She turned back to look out the window, confused. What was happening? Or was she just imagining it?

  She shook her head impatiently. It was hardly the most pressing thing anyway. They had to work out how to communicate with the riders, who had just landed on the doorstep, so that they could finally break free of their prison.

  Mother Asta approached the window, gazing in at Avalon and smiling. The others were scouring the house, obviously checking if there were any surprises lurking in the bushes. Avalon could hear door knobs turning and windows rattling.

  “I guess they have to reassure themselves,” remarked Skyresh, smiling. “They don’t trust that we might have already tried the doors and checked if the windows opened.”

  Avalon laughed. “I suppose it is the natural thing to do if a trifle silly! I don’t care. I am just so glad that they are here at long last.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t feel so alone anymore.”

  “You were never alone,” he said slowly, his blue eyes shining as they gazed down at her.

  Focus, thought Avalon, drowning in his gaze. Don’t get side tracked. We have work to do.

  She gazed back at the Mother, who had taken out a piece of paper. Avalon watched as she pressed it against the window. It was a message, written in Mother Asta’s handwriting!

  Avalon had to blink back tears. She should have known that Mother Asta would come prepared. Hansa and Sidsel had obviously told her that the spell that ensnared them would probably mean that they wouldn’t be able to communicate with each other. The Mother had thought of everything.

  Avalon, the message read, I understand the nature of the spell that ensnares you all. I have a package of special herbs and oil, which you must add to water. Water is the source of her power. If you can do this, the Entrapment Reversal spell is what you must use. I will chant and add my own herbs and oil to water as well.

  Avalon gasped. How did the Mother know so much? The sorceress must have been among them, impersonating her. Yes, she remembered the Entrapment Reversal spell; she had tried it many times, but of course, it had been useless. The necessary herbs and oil, which empowered the water, were missing.

  Then, she sighed in frustration. How was she to get the package that the Mother had so carefully prepared? The house was impenetrable.

  She turned around, searching for paper. Nothing was on hand. Eventually, she tore out the front page of one of the books and wrote a message back to the Mother, pressing it against the glass.

  Mother, I thank you. But it cannot work. There is no way to get the package to me.


  Mother Asta frowned. The she turned the paper she held over and wrote on the back of it.

  I will find a way. There must be something, somewhere. I will start searching, and I will tell you when I find it.

  Avalon nodded, her heart sinking. There was no way, she knew that. They had come all this way for nothing. They would not be able to get them out of this house!

  “Avalon,” Skyresh said, putting a hand on her arm. “The Mother will find a way. She is determined, and I know that she will not give up. If this doesn’t work, she will think of something else.”

  She nodded, distracted. She was watching the Mother scour the house, squinting her eyes and looking for an entry point.

  They followed her, watching as she circled the house. Sometimes, she would disappear, looking at something closely, but then she would reappear, shaking her head.

  They followed her into the kitchen, watching her through the window. She paused, and her eyes narrowed. They watched her get out another piece of paper and scribble something furiously. She pressed it against the kitchen window.

  I have found something, it read. A mouse hole, I think. I am going to try to push the package through it. Be prepared.

  Avalon nodded to her. Skyresh watched where she went, and then she crouched down at a skirting board. He could see a glimmer of light shining through the hole.

  “I don’t think this will work,” he said, shaking his head. “I already tried this hole.”

  Avalon squatted down, next to him. Everard stood watching them, leaning against the kitchen bench.

  They waited. But nothing came through the hole.

  “It didn’t work,” whispered Avalon, shaking her head. Disappointment crushed her like a vice.

  Skyresh sighed, deeply. “We will have to think of something else.”

  Mother Asta was back at the window, shaking her head. She scribbled on the paper again.

  It didn’t work. I need you all to think carefully. Has anything – anything, at all – entered or exited the house since you have been imprisoned?

  They all looked at each other, puzzled. What did the Mother mean? They had tried every way that they knew to escape, and nothing had entered the house.

  Avalon sat back, thinking deeply. She stared at the message still pressed to the glass. Her eyes focused on a portion of it. What did the Mother mean, by using the word ‘anything’? She was just about to write the question on another piece of paper when she suddenly gasped.

  “Skyresh,” she said, grabbing his arm so tightly he jumped. “Something has exited the house since we have been imprisoned!” She beamed at him. “Smoke! From the fire!”

  He stared at her, uncomprehending. Then, he let out a loud cry, grabbing her.

  “Yes!” he said, nodding his head. “It’s true! The sorceress must have forgot to ensnare that point, and I didn’t even think of it.” He started running into the living room. “Write it on a note for the Mother. Tell her that I am checking it out, seeing if it is big enough for us to get through.”

  Avalon quickly scribbled the message. Mother Asta’s eyes gleamed, and she smiled.

  Avalon and Everard rushed into the living room, watching Skyresh. He had his head high up the chimney, searching. Eventually, he emerged, his face darkened with soot.

  “It’s not big enough for us to climb up,” he said, slowly. “But it is big enough for someone to drop Mother Asta’s package down.”

  “Do you think it will work?” asked Everard. “Smoke is hardly anything. A package is different.”

  “It’s worth a try,” said Avalon.

  Mother Asta and the others were back at the living room windows, peering in at them. Avalon rushed over, smiling. She scribbled another note.

  Can someone climb onto the roof and try to drop the package down?

  Escolen gave a thumbs up sign and disappeared with the package. Mother Asta was beaming, as was everyone else. Avalon felt tears spring again into her eyes and crossed her fingers for luck.

  They all walked to the fireplace, waiting.

  They could hear Escolen climbing the walls and on the roof. Then, they heard a rustling at the top of the chimney.

  “Here goes,” whispered Skyresh, staring at Avalon.

  She reached over, taking his hand, and closed her eyes.

  She heard a sound. She opened her eyes, not daring to believe.

  The package had landed on the hearth. It was black with soot, but it was there.

  They all screamed in delight. Skyresh grabbed the package quickly, as if it might disappear before his eyes. He opened it, reeling back at the pungent smell that wafted from it.

  “Strong herbs,” he gasped, handing it to her. “And a small vial of oil.”

  Avalon took it, her hands shaking. Mother Asta had put a small note inside, as well.

  I have cut the exact number of herbs you need, the note read. The vial contains frankincense oil, and you need three drops – no more and no less. Remember to start the chant as soon as the last drop of oil hits the water. Good luck.

  “Can you get me some fresh water?” she said, turning to Skyresh. “Bring it up the stairs to the room. I will use the same water bowl as the sorceress.”

  Skyresh went to the kitchen.

  Avalon turned back to the window and nodded at Mother Asta. Then, she took a deep breath and started climbing the stairs.

  This must work, she told herself fiercely. There was simply no other way.

  ***

  The water bowl was almost ready.

  Avalon walked slowly towards it. She just had to add the three drops of oil and start to chant the reversal spell. Simple.

  Why am I shaking then? So much was riding on this. She knew that if this did not work that there would be no easy answer to the dilemma that they found themselves in.

  They would have to start again from scratch. Searching books and racking their brains for the right combination or the correct incantation. It could take weeks.

  And they didn’t have weeks. They had no food left, and nothing to light a fire. Avalon supposed that the others could drop food down the chimney, now that they realized it was an entry point, but the thought depressed her. And while they were stuck here, the sorceress was still out there. At least, she believed she was. She hadn’t had time to ask the others yet what had happened to her.

  You are stalling, she told herself. Take a deep breath and get on with it.

  Three drops, and then start the chant. Mother Asta’s words were imprinted on her mind.

  First drop.

  She watched the oil hit the water, pooling on top of it. A strong scent wafted up, almost hitting her in the face. She had always been fond of the smell of frankincense before, but now it would forever remind her of this moment. If she lived, of course.

  Second drop.

  The scent intensified, filling the room. Was it her imagination, or had the room darkened ever so slightly? She stared to shiver.

  Last drop.

  She drew in her breath swiftly, and then she started to chant.

  She knew the words by heart. She had tried this chant, many times, since they had been stuck here, but now the words threatened to fly out of her mind. Concentrate, she told herself fiercely. Focus!

  She stared down into the water, watching it start to swirl ever so slightly.

  Her voice grew louder. She started to feel the presence of magic in the water.

  The swirling intensified. As she intoned the words, over and over again, she could see the drops of oil dissipating within it, and Mother Asta’s carefully cut herbs swimming from side to side. The room darkened again, but Avalon had no knowledge of it.

  She was swept up in the words. Her confidence had returned. She closed her eyes, feeling the magic flowing through her. Behind her eyelids, she could sense the room growing lighter. A surge of hope and joy shot through her.

  The last word of the chant fell from her lips, and she slowly opened her eyes, staring down into the water bowl.

&n
bsp; The water had stilled. Now, it was simply a bowl of water with herbs floating on the top. The scent from the frankincense drops filled the room.

  Had it worked?

  She rushed out of the room and bounded down the stairs. Skyresh and Everard were staring out the windows, but they both turned and gazed at her expectantly when they heard her approach.

  “Is it done?” whispered Skyresh. “I have been watching Mother Asta chanting over water. She has just finished.”

  “It is done,” she whispered back. “Shall I try?”

  She gazed at Everard. He nodded.

  She walked slowly to the front door. Her hand had started to tremble again. What if it hadn’t worked?

  She placed her hand on the door knob, twisting it. There was a slight click, and then the door opened. Her heart leapt, as she pushed it back, running outside. She leapt through the snow, kicking it up. She raised her face to the sky and felt snowflakes falling soft and pure upon her skin.

  She hadn’t realized, until now, how much she had missed it. Being outdoors and in the wilderness. How the thought of slowly dying in that space had frightened her; the thought of never being able to feel the wind in her hair or the sun on her face ever again.

  Skyresh and Everard had followed her out, whooping with joy. Mother Asta and the others crowded around them. They all greeted each other and embraced.

  “It worked!” exclaimed Avalon, hugging Mother Asta tightly. “I will never be able to thank you for what you have done for us, Mother.”

  Mother Asta gazed into her face, her eyes soft. “You are our queen,” she whispered fiercely. “All of us would do anything for you, you must know that by now.”

  Avalon nodded, tears filling her eyes. “I am starting to realize it at long last. It has taken me so long to feel comfortable in the role and be myself within it, but with you and the others, I know that the time has come.”

  Mother Asta stroked her face gently. Her hands were cold, but Avalon didn’t care.

  The snowflakes intensified around them, and the last rays of the sun disappeared behind the mountain. It was night, and it was freezing.