Aurelie: A Faerie Tale

by Heather Tomlinson

  Aurelie came no closer to resolving any of it. She leaned against the cold glass and stared into the garden. Like a length of Netta's

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  lace, snow-covered branches intertwined in delicate patterns against i he brightening sky. A black streak in the distance caught her eye. A big dog--no, two dogs--raced through the garden toward the palace. White plumes feathered out behind them as their tails brushed clumps of wet snow off the bushes. Their trail looked like a careless rook had swished her spoon through lumpy pudding.

  The dogs disappeared behind the hedge maze and then returned to pass directly under Aurelie's window. The larger dog grinned at her over his shoulder. A rope of sausages dangled from his jaw. Aurelie laughed at his comical expression, then squinted.

  Loic?

  She leaned her elbows on the sill and craned her neck. Before the running dogs turned the corner of the building, Aurelie was convinced that the second dog was Loic, and the first, Netta. She thought she knew where they were headed, too: the gap between the kitchen garden wall and a row of evergreens. Netta, Aurelie, and Garin used to meet there to share treats smuggled from the kitchen.

  Aurelie pulled on her boots and coat. The solicitous Barret wasn't on duty this early, but another sleepy-looking footman wished Aurelie good morning and opened the door. He didn't ask her any questions or offer to fetch her a cape. The cold air nipped at her face as she scuffed through the snow, following the track the dogs had made.

  Sure enough, it led to the row of evergreens. Halfway along, Aurelie met Netta, in her own shape, sidling out from between two trees. Netta's expression was so radiant, the heat of it could have melted the snow clinging to her brown hair.

  "Psst!" Aurelie said. "Over here."

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  If anyone deserved happiness, Netta did. So why did Aurelie's insides clench a little when she read the joy on Netta's face?

  "Aurelie!" She hurried forward, her coat dusted with snow from the evergreen branches. When the blind girl would have continued past Aurelie, the princess reached out to stop her. Netta grabbed her by both hands and swung the two of them around until Aurelie was dizzy.

  "Stop!" Aurelie said.

  Netta let her go. Alone, she twirled down the path.

  A load of snow slid off a tree and plopped at Aurelie's feet. Another soggy handful struck her back. "This way!" Aurelie said, chasing after her friend and steering Netta along the short path to the greenhouse.

  Inside, they stood between shelves of plants too delicate to winter outside. The humid warmth melted the white flakes from their coats and caressed their cold faces. Surprisingly, the two girls had the place to themselves. Aurelie had expected to see people tending to the plants and feeding the wood stoves that heated the building. Either it was too early or the gardeners were all busy in the palace, hanging evergreen garlands to bring the scent of the forest indoors for the festival.

  "Lovely." Netta turned in place, less giddily.

  Aurelie breathed in the rich smells of earth and green things that defied the cold white world outside. Would Netta tell her what she'd been doing? Or were they still keeping secrets from each other? "You're up early," she said, leaving her friend to decide.

  "He found me." Netta's voice was hushed with wonder.

  "Loic?" Aurelie said.

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  Netta's seeking hand met a fern. She stroked the frond uncurling at its base. "Isn't it funny--I smelled him, in my room. Wet earth, like here, and river reeds and musk. I said his name, and he answered."

  "And then," Aurelie prompted.

  Netta blushed. "Well, it was awkward at first. I told him how sorry I was not to see him, and he said that dawn would come soon. And I had to explain, you know, what I meant. What his father had done. And how ashamed I'd been for acting so stupidly "

  "But he understood," Aurelie said, when Netta's voice trailed away.

  "Yes. He forgave me for not telling him. And then I forgave him for kissing you, Aurelie." Netta screwed up her face in a determined expression. "That's to stop, Your Highness. Loic and I won't be parted again."

  "Am I pardoned, too?" Aurelie asked.

  Netta cocked her head, considering. Water dripped, loud in the silence. "Yes," she said, and her fierceness softened into a smile. "So all our forgiving took a while, and at the end of it, Loic said that although he couldn't reverse my blindness, he could transform me into other shapes with eyes that work. We were dogs this morning, just splendid! He's learned the most amazing magic, Aurelie. You never said."

  "I don't think he told me the half of it."

  "Mm." Netta smiled and walked among the shelves, identifying plants by touch and scent. Aurelie guided her away from the thorny rose bushes to the softer geraniums. The blind girl plucked a fuzzy leaf and crushed it between her fingers, releasing the scent of mint

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  and chocolate. "I'm so glad Garin escaped from Skoe. But that dreadful Captain Inglis was Loic's nurse! She was paid handsomely for her trouble, wasn't she? I can't understand why she's bent on fighting us."

  "Well--" Aurelie said, but Netta had marched into the next aisle and was sniffing a pot of faded narcissus.

  "Loic says she's a cold, vengeful woman. He'll stand with us against her when the time comes." She whirled. "Can you imagine, a drac getting involved in a human quarrel?"

  "For your sake?" Aurelie said dryly. "I have no trouble believing that of Loic."

  Netta's cheeks turned pink. She ducked her head. "I missed him so much, Aurelie, It's my dearest dream come true, finding him again and feeling closer even than before."

  "That's wonderful," Aurelie said wistfully.

  "It's the same with you and Garin, isn't it?"

  "Oh." Aurelie tried for a laugh, but it sounded defeated. "We're never in one place together long enough to decide."

  "But Loic said he left Garin with you last night."

  "Gone again this morning."

  Netta tucked her hand in Aurelie's arm. "We'll find him at breakfast."

  "I suppose so," Aurelie said.

  "I know so," Netta retorted. "Eggs and sausage and toast and apple butter, after eating nothing but fish for months and months? He'll be there, don't worry."

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  Chapter 21 Aurelie

  Aurelie shredded a butter pastry between her fingers as Garin worked his way through a third plateful. The Skoeran appeared capable of consuming every dish the cook cared to prepare. She was so delighted at his return that only her festival preparations kept the woman from running through her entire repertoire at his first meal.

  Though less demonstrative, King Raimond also seemed gratified that Garin had sought refuge in Jocondagne. The two of them had arrived in the dining room together, after Aurelie had let several cups of tea go cold, waiting, and Netta had already excused herself.

  "You're always welcome here, Deschutes," the king had said for the benefit of several courtiers casting dubious looks at Garin's wild hair and foreign clothing. "Weil sort out those ridiculous allegations with the rest of the Skoeran situation, won't we, Aurelie?"

  "Yes, Papa."

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  Her father stopped by her chair and spoke softly. "Do get him some decent clothes, daughter. With invasion on the city's mind, folk will be suspicious of strangers, We wouldn't want any trouble because of our friend's Skoeran, er, fashions."

  "No, Papa."

  "Your festival dress is ready too, isn't it?"

  "Yes, Papa."

  "Good, good." The slate-blue eyes studied her. Aurelie stiffened in her chair, wondering what he and Garin might have discussed during their private interview. But the king changed the subject. "Master Austringer speaks highly of your work with the sea eagles. We're looking forward to the ceremony tomorrow, very much."

  Aurelie relaxed. "For wild birds, he says, they've come along amazingly fast."

  "Excellent." With an approving nod, the king took his seat, and the first adviser approached to confer with him. The servants might
be occupied with preparing for tomorrow's festival, but at the king's table, war dominated the conversation. How many ships the Skoerans might launch, the troop strength each side could muster, whose plans the spring winds might favor. She'd heard the same questions debated every day for weeks, but not with Garin there. Aurelie squirmed in her chair. How must he feel?

  Nothing showed in his face. Garin ate, hardly looking up from his plate. When the king finished, the room emptied quickly, leaving only Garin and Aurelie. He pushed his empty plate to one side and stretched. "Your mission is to civilize me, I hear? Redress the scurvy Skoeran?"

  "Yes," she said. His flippant tone didn't fool her. He'd had a long

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  journey, only to find himself among enemies. Not that Aurelie was one, but... Daylight illuminated lines in his face that she hadn't noticed the previous night. She wiped her buttery hands on her napkin, not sure how to act around him. Before she could decide, the door flew open and banged against the wall.

  Aurelie jumped. Garin slid out of his chair so smoothly she almost missed the flash of steel. A knife slid out of his boot, then back when he recognized the plump woman rushing at him.

  Netta's mother engulfed him in a warm embrace. "Garin! My dear boy, how tall you've grownl"

  Her daughter stood in the doorway. "Mother insisted on coming down the instant she heard."

  "You haven't changed a bit, madame," Garin said. "But your daughter's grown much prettier." He released the seamstress and bent over Netta's hand.

  "Why, thank you, Monsieur Impertinencel" Netta reached up to tug his ear and her fingers brushed the elf-braids. "Traveling with lutins, Garin?"

  "Hush, childl" Her mother glanced around the room.

  Just when Aurelie was feeling left out of their teasing exchange, Garin dropped her a wink behind the older woman's back. "I've been keeping much more exalted company," he said.

  Netta smirked. "Really?"

  "Oh, aye."

  Her mother examined him over her spectacles. "I don't know about foreign standards, but here in Lumielle, you'll wear better than that shabby excuse for a robe, so help me."

  "You're very kind, madame," Garin said.

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  Aurelie was becoming quite desperate to get him out of the palace, away from all the old friends who might be lining up in the corridor to greet him. "flow about skate blades?"

  "What a good idea," Netta chimed in. "Don't you have one more session with Master Austringer? While you two are out there, you can test the course before the races tomorrow."

  "A skating costume?" The older woman beamed at Garin. "It's no trouble to fit you, no trouble at all. Come with me. You can meet the princess at the stables within the hour. Will that suit, Your Highness?"

  "Yes," Aurelie said. Returning to her room, she changed into a tunic and leggings, coat, hat, scarf, and gloves. She hurried, but Garin was ready before her, dressed in Jocondagnan blue and admiring the two bay mares and their string of silver bells.

  The sleigh driver cracked the long whip over his head, and the mares trotted through the palace gates. Teams of supply sledges had already packed the snow; the sleigh moved easily through the crowded streets. In addition to the capital's usual activity, many pen pie were returning from the countryside with armfuls of greenery. Children headed out of the city with their sleds and skate blades. At the southernmost King's Gate, Aurelie answered the guards' salutes with a wave, and they left the city walls behind.

  Sunlight sparkled off the snow covering farmers' fields and grazing meadows alike. The frozen expanse of the river's main channel shone blue-white where the freshening wind had scoured snow from the ice. On the wide loop of the skating course, sheltered from the breeze by a ring of snow-encrusted pine, willow, and chestnut trees,

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  sweepers moved in even ranks across the ice. Hammer blows echoed from the island inside the course.

  The way to the festival grounds seemed even busier than Lumielle's streets. Sleighs and sledges carried construction materials, wood for the bonfires, and supplies for the cook tents. Then the sleigh stopped with a jolt, throwing Aurelie and Garin against the seat back.

  "Your pardon, Highness." The driver pointed with his whip. "Carter's spilled a load of firewood across the track. That'll take a while to clear."

  Aurelie was in no mood to sit still. "Let's walk," she said. The two of them left the sleigh and pushed through the snow to cross the frozen River Sicaun where the ferry docks would be in summertime. In warmer weather, this island was a pretty picnic spot shaded by the ring of trees. Now a temporary city was rising like a stage set from the snow. Tents displayed a variety of craft guilds' wares. Teams of workers assembled tables and benches, and a long line of metal spits stood waiting to roast meat for the feast.

  Aurelie led them to the red-draped reviewing stand. Her father and Master Austringer would stand here for the king's part of the sea eagle ceremony while she and Dalfi, the assistant falcon keeper, waited on Tower Bridge. She looked around. "I don't see Master Austringer yet. He brings the fish for our practice."

  "Shall we skate, then?" Garin said, and Aurelie nodded.

  Down the hill from the reviewing stand, wooden benches had been placed along the riverbank. Aurelie and Garin sat and threaded leather straps through the metal plates and buckles, then attached the blades to their boots. As Aurelie stood up, one fashionably dressed

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  young woman stumbled. Squealing, she slid into another girl and knocked them both into a heap. Aurelie was thankful not to be wearing layers of frothy skirts. If she fell, she wouldn't look quite so much like an overturned feather-duster.

  "Ready?" Garin said.

  "Yes." Aurelie pushed off with one blade. She wobbled, threw her arms out for balance, then straightened.

  Push, glide. Push, glide.

  The sweepers had started in the middle of the Sicaun and were working outward toward the edges, leaving a long, clear track down the course. As her confidence mounted, Aurelie's strokes picked up speed. Soon she was flying over the ice, Garin a silent shadow at her elbow. Skating, they didn't need to speak, to apologize, to explain. They moved side by side in perfect accord.

  Garin's blades rasped against the ice. He shot forward, a challenge. Aurelie coasted in his draft. She wasn't worried about losing. She'd spent day after day working with the sea eagles, night after night dancing with Loic. Her legs were strong, her muscles warming up, loose and ready. The important thing was to find a steady rhythm. When the Skoeran tired of setting the pace, she'd pass him.

  Her world condensed to the view of Garin's blue coat in front of her, the scrape-scrape of metal blades against the ice, the drafts of cold air sucked down her throat and expelled in clouds of vapor. This silent communion was just what she'd needed. They belonged together, whether he knew it or not.

  When his breath sounded harsher and more ragged, Aurelie acted. Swift as a swallow, she darted to one side. Wind shoved at her

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  chest, but rather than stand up to it, Aurelie bent her body forward, clasped her hands behind her back, and let her legs do their work. Stride for stride, Aurelie matched Garin. Imperceptibly, she gained ground. He skated harder. Aurelie could sense that he was close enough to lock elbows, but she kept her eyes forward, on the red-draped reviewing stand. They'd almost completed the loop around the island; the striped finish wands awaited.

  Slower skaters had moved out of their way. Aurelie quickened her pace again, enjoying the sound of Garin puffing behind her. She could skate with him all day, she thought, and never need to speak.

  And then her right skate blade caught on a twig frozen into the ice. She tripped, lost her balance, and fell, sliding across the ice like a wind-driven leaf. By accident, one leg knocked Garin's skates out from under him. He landed on his back and followed her into the snowbank. At the double impact, the willow tree above them dropped its heavy, wet burden on their heads.

  Coughing and spluttering snow, Aurelie
pushed herself upright. "Tie!" she declared.

  "What?"

  At Garin's outraged expression, she doubled over with laughter. His hat had come off. Snow crusted his braids, and he was scooping more of the white stuff out of his collar. "Best of three," he said.

  "No, that's enough skating, thank you."

  "You want to talk, I suppose? Girls always do."

  Her temper fired. "In Dorisen, you wouldn't tell me anything! Why you were disguised, the business with Captain Inglis...I could have helped! I wanted to!"

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  Garin retrieved his hat and shook it, hard. "While you cozied up to Hui Inglis?"

  "That was diplomacy." Aurelie waved away his objection. "It didn't mean anything."

  "Would you have taken that chance?"

  "Yes," she said, instantly. "I would have trusted you. I did trust you, remember?" She slapped her gloves together. "Didn't admit I knew you. Didn't blab your name to anyone. Chose your box-chair, not one of Inglis's, when the mob was coming. Tell me the real reason you kept pushing me away."

  Garin jammed his hat on his head. "Because I was afraid," he said bluntly. "You're a princess, and I'm a merchant's son. Now a sail mender and plank caulker's son. We hadn't spoken in over two years; our countries were at war. What if you believed the Inglises over me?"

  "Are you joking? Not believe you? You're my oldest friend, with Netta and Loic!"

  "Loic." His face went wooden. "So you're going to marry him?"

  "That's not what I said!" Tears of frustration burned her eyes. "Forget it. Let's talk about something else."

  "No." Garin's glove touched her sleeve, then dropped to his side. "I have to know. Do you love him?"