The Lost Endeavour

by Georgina Makalani

He nodded once and gave her a small smile. “Are you?”

  She smiled and bowed her head.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, then looked around the group. “To all of you. I haven’t been very patient.”

  “What did you find?” Ende asked, not moving from the flames.

  “I don’t know. Nothing, something, the wind.”

  “You found your way back to us,” Dray said.

  “I think I was led.”

  “What do they want from us?” Belle asked, her voice hushed as though they could hear her. Ed wondered just what they did know.

  He shook his head, sat down on the blanket and picked up a biscuit.

  The group watched him, and he tried not to focus on their stares. Even Belle didn’t sit back beside him.

  “What do you want from them?” Ende asked.

  Ed stopped mid-chew and looked up at him. He gulped down the biscuit, thumping at his chest as it stuck in his throat. “What could I want from the Near Folk?” he asked.

  “What did you want from me?” The flames of the blazing fire reflected in his dark eyes.

  “My mother told me to come to you.”

  “When? She has been gone a long time, and you have lived in your uncle’s shadow for almost as long. Why did you come to find me?”

  Ed sucked in a deep breath and shrugged. He had no idea. It seemed to make sense at the time, but he wasn’t sure what he could gain. “A place to hide,” he murmured.

  “Really?” Belle asked. He expected disappointment when he looked into her face, but it was something else. Pity, maybe.

  “My mother told me in her dying breath that if it all got too hard then I was to find her dearest friend.”

  He thought Ende might have wiped at a tear, but the movement was quick. And even if he cried for another, the man surely would never allow them to see it.

  “It got too hard,” Ed admitted. “My uncle was never going to let me out of that room. I had a routine, a simple life, and I suppose I could have survived much longer with it. But there was nothing of substance, only classes and more classes, reading and my little room. The sword master was the only one who seemed to show any interest in whether I could actually be what I was thought to be.” He looked back at the biscuit in his hand and hoped his voice hadn’t cracked. “I don’t know that I wanted to be King. That was what I was supposed to be learning to be, but I knew no one around me ever expected me to actually use the skills they were teaching. No one thought I would sit on the throne. They were probably right. My uncle knew more of what was needed, and the kingdom survives. I just needed to be somewhere else, be someone else. And I thought my mother’s friend would be the person to help do that. She made it sound as though you would help if I needed it.”

  He looked up then, but Ende had turned back to the flames. Belle rested her hand on his arm. More pity.

  “I want to help Ana,” he said firmly. “I don’t have to be King to do that.”

  Belle’s hand tightened around his arm. “Salima?” she asked softly.

  He shook his head. Salima was too hard to explain. She had been raised so differently. “It is better she remains hidden,” he said. “She mourns a different mother, knows a different father. How could I explain to her who she really is? And the knowledge would only put her in more danger.”

  “What if she wasn’t…?” Ende asked, his voice barely audible over the sound of the crackling fire.

  Ed looked up at him, his hands clenched at his sides. Ende looked uncomfortable, uncertain, and it was unnerving as he hadn’t seen him that way before.

  “Nobody knows who she is,” Ed repeated. “She is safer that way.”

  Ende nodded once, and Belle’s hand gripped tighter around Ed’s arm again as she let out a small squeak of surprise. He looked from her to the direction she was focused.

  A tall, broad man with a bare chest, tanned skin, flowing dark hair and a very long spear stood in the shadows of the trees. Ed clambered to his feet. The rest of the group was silent, although Ed noted that Dray’s hand rested on his sword.

  The man’s focus was on Ed, and as Ed stood, the man dropped to a knee. His head bowed forward, and the movement of his hair revealed strange pointed ears.

  “It is ok,” Ed whispered to Belle.

  “Your Majesty,” the man said, his voice both deep and light at the same time, like the wind.

  Chapter 3

  Ana watched the sword master pace back and forth as she hugged her arms tighter around herself and tried not to shiver. She was so cold, as though it had seeped into her bones, and no matter what she tried, she couldn’t warm. She glanced at the girl sitting on the box to her side, who had so far appeared as warm as Ende. She longed to snuggle with the girl.

  The sword master had stopped. As she looked at him, he glared at her. His eyes flicked to the girl and then back. Ana sighed. Rubbed her numb fingers together and wondered if the ache inside her would ever stop.

  “This is dangerous,” he growled, pacing again in the small storeroom. Ana wasn’t sure where they were, only that they were somewhere in the castle. The girl had dragged her out into the courtyard, and then just as quickly they’d been inside again. Although they had entered a large space, Salima had pulled her forward into the smaller room. “What possessed you to think this was a good idea?”

  “I couldn’t leave her there,” she whispered.

  Ana was sure they’d had this conversation over and over since he had found them huddled in the dark. And she was very sure he blamed Ana for putting his daughter in such a position.

  “I…”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” he snapped, cutting Ana off.

  She nodded, pulled her legs in closer, dropped her chin to her knees and closed her eyes. The shivering took over again at the silenced conversation, and she resented her dress. For such fine material, it had remained damp for so long.

  “She’ll die,” Salima insisted.

  “Your father is right,” Ana murmured, her eyes still closed. The cold wall at her back pushed against her body’s effort to try and warm itself. “He will hunt me out. Tell him you found me.” She looked up at the sword master. “You might be rewarded.”

  “He’ll never believe you got out on your own.”

  “I’m a witch,” Ana murmured. Maybe if she rested, her body would have time to heal.

  “Don’t sleep,” the girl snapped. She dropped beside Ana, who leaned into the heat of her. All she wanted was those warm arms wrapped around her, but instead the girl took her by the shoulders and shook her awake.

  She reluctantly opened her eyes. “Let me go,” she murmured.

  “You are our only link to Ed,” Salima said, the tears flowing. “You have to help us get him back.”

  “Well I’m glad you didn’t risk yourself for me,” Ana said, hurt suddenly that the girl had only saved her for Ed. “He’s safer without me.” She pulled back from the girl’s hold and used the wall to slowly rise to her feet. The shaking became more uncontrollable, and she stumbled.

  Despite his obvious mistrust of her and anger at her putting his daughter at risk, the sword master caught her easily. Instead of pushing her away, as she expected, he pulled her closer, his arms tight around her. “Find a blanket,” he said.

  “I’m so tired,” Ana admitted, leaning into him. He wasn’t nearly as warm as the little dragon, but he was far more comfortable than the wall.

  “You’re sick,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and then guiding her back to the floor.

  “I’m just cold,” she said. “It was so cold.”

  At his silence, she looked up, and he shook his head slowly. “Damn him,” he muttered. “We can’t keep you here.”

  “I know this isn’t safe for you.” Ana wanted to climb back to her feet, but he held up a hand. She was grateful, as she didn’t think she had the strength to stand again.

  “There are many parts of this castle no one visits; we just have to get you there. And I fear if w
e wait until dark, it might be too late.”

  The door squealed open, letting in far more light than Ana expected. Was it daytime already? A slender figure was silhouetted in the doorway.

  “Master?” a young man’s voice called tentatively.

  “I’m just trying to find something,” the sword master said, resting his hand on Ana’s shoulder. “I’ll be right out.”

  He reached past Ana and lifted a long pole away from the wall. “Where is the other one?” he muttered.

  “Is he ready for those?” Salima asked.

  Ana could sense the glare, although she couldn’t see it. But his voice was soft when he answered her. “I need some excuse. And you can’t be seen coming and going all day. Go and find somewhere we can move her to. I don’t like that fever,” he murmured, as though Ana weren’t sitting close enough to hear every word. “Find Cleric Peck.”

  “Yes, Papa,” Salima answered quickly.

  “Don’t return until my students are gone.”

  The door opened again, and Ana squinted into the light.

  “I’m sorry, Father,” Salima said as they left the storeroom. “I was sure I put them where you told me to.”

  “It isn’t that big a space to lose long sticks in,” he said, as though the conversation had been started in the room before they’d left it. Ana wondered what else these two managed to hide from those around them.

  And then it was dark, and she wondered if they would ever come back. Master Forest was correct; it was too dangerous for them if she was found. She pulled the blanket around herself and lay down on the wooden floor. It was cool, but not as cold as the cell had been. She closed her eyes as she slowly started to feel like she wasn’t freezing to death.

  A loud clack startled her, swiftly followed by another and then a yelp. She sat up, then tried to shuffle as silently as she could behind the box. It would be out of the immediate view of the doorway if someone were to open it and look in.

  “Come now,” Master Forest tutted. “You can do better than that.”

  “I don’t think we have tried this before, Master,” the young man returned, his voice hesitant.

  Ana relaxed a little, and the noise began anew. She blew out a long breath, shivered again and pulled the blanket tight around her. Pulling her legs in close, she curled into a ball. The continuous noise on the other side of the door was somewhat comforting, and the rhythmic noise soon lulled her to sleep.

  Salima stood in the small room for too long, watching the sun move slowly towards the horizon. She flexed her hand, wondering just how she had managed to pull those bars apart and how Ana had known she had such fire within her. If Ana had sensed it, could someone else sense it also? Like the mage. The idea made her shiver. Someone walked past the door, their loud heels on the wooden floorboards making her jump. But they didn’t slow or pause by the door, and she squeezed her hand around the key.

  She was in one of the many vacant rooms near the royal suite. It was as though the regent didn’t want anyone close. Salima thought it was because he feared they might discover what he was. Or try to oust him. Her father had told stories from years ago of many visitors to the capital and the castle itself, of how Ed’s parents had entertained and held meetings. The lords had even visited, but no more. Now the spacious visitor rooms stood empty—until the tribute of women arrived, and then Salima thought they wouldn’t take up too much room.

  The large four-poster bed stood out from one wall. Thick curtains, dusty from years of neglect, were tied close to the posts. Salima wondered if this was ideal for Ana. She looked back at the fireplace stacked with kindling, firewood piled nearby as though waiting for a guest who had never arrived. Two comfortable chairs sat before it. At least she knew the wood would be dry.

  A washstand contained a basin and jug, but no water. She hoped she was the only one with the key as she moved back to the door and listened. In all the time she had been in the room, she had only heard a couple people move by. The rooms on either side were empty as well, which meant they shouldn’t be heard. The chimneys all seemed to come together somewhere above her, so lighting the fire shouldn’t give them away.

  As she moved back to the wood, it almost called for her to push her flames on it. She took a step back, unsure why she hadn’t sensed such a thing before. Was she really something made of fire, or had Ana allowed her to think so as she found her own way out? Thinking back to the woman in the cell, she doubted it.

  No matter how she looked at it or felt about her own skills, the room needed to be warm for Ana. She looked about for something to start it. The room was empty of anything useful, and in the end she squatted before it and glared at the wood, daring it to start. After a moment she started to laugh. She couldn’t play with a fire all afternoon; she needed to find the cleric.

  She reached her hand towards the fireplace, and a spark flashed between her outstretched fingers and the wood. It not only caught, but it blazed to life. She sat back, bewildered by what had happened. If she really did have fire, she hoped Ana had a way to help her use it. As the kindling crackled, she found her feet and fed a couple logs into the flames. Without waiting to be sure they caught, she headed out into the hallway and locked the door behind her.

  Cleric Peck was just where she hoped he would be, in the library. Usually around dusk he moved into the quiet space to research something or other, and she had found him there before. Otherwise he would still have been working in the main workroom the clerics shared, where she didn’t want to be seen calling for him.

  He glanced up from the pages as she approached, concern creasing his brow. She usually raced for him when any of her father’s students injured themselves or each other. She bowed her head and cleared her throat.

  “I wonder if I could interrupt your study?” she asked quietly.

  “Another one?” he asked.

  She paused too long before nodding, and although he closed the book he’d been reading, he stared at her unmoving. Salima chewed on her lip. She could only hope her father was right and this man could be trusted with Ana.

  “We need your help,” she said, trying her best to plead with her eyes and not sound too desperate in case there was someone around.

  He pushed up from the table, his old frame creaking as he did so, although she wondered if it was the chair. She had seen him move fast enough when it was needed. She wondered about the old man sometimes, that he might be more loyal to the laws of the kingdom than them if something were to go wrong. But her father would shake his head when she suggested it. Cleric Gilroy Peck had been there when Queen Ter-essa died, and her father assured her he looked after the crown first.

  She only hoped that the witch, a friend of Ed’s, would be classed as close enough to the crown to warrant saving. They walked in silence towards the practice halls. With the sky darkening above them, a servant moved slowly around the courtyard lighting the torches as they moved through it. Salima thought of Ana again, and how she had first seen her in that courtyard talking with Papa, how she had dragged Salima across the kingdom with a tight grip on her arm.

  They entered the halls just as the last student left. He slowed to bow to the cleric, but he didn’t acknowledge Salima at all. Generally, she didn’t mind, but in the shadow of Ana, the beautiful witch and the woman who had Ed’s attention, she felt somewhat disappointed.

  Her father nodded as they entered the hall, and she dropped the bolt across the door. Cleric Peck turned to look at it and then at her before he turned back to Papa.

  “What has happened?” he asked seriously. “Is it the king?”

  “No,” Papa said, and although he stood straight, Salima could sense the uncertainty. “A friend of his needs our help, so that she can help him.”

  “The witch,” the old man said. Salima tried to find something in his voice to indicate what the man might think of her.

  Papa cleared his throat. “She is gifted, but I don’t think she is a witch.”

  “A mage?” Salima asked.
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  “She is Mariela’s daughter.”

  The cleric stepped forward. “Truly?”

  Papa nodded, already on his way to the storeroom. He opened the door and gestured inside. “If she has survived the day, we will need your help.”

  The old man strode quickly towards the door, but Salima was unable to move. What if Ana had died? How would they find Ed?

  Chapter 4

  Dray was sure it had been a very bad idea to follow the strange man though the forest. Although the young king was sure it was safe, Dray got the idea that Ende was just as conflicted as he was. In fact, the dragon appeared even more uncomfortable the deeper into the forest they travelled.

  The world Dray now found himself in was very different from what he had expected. Although to be honest, he wasn’t sure what that might be. He had watched in horror as the king had disappeared before him through the trees. Yet as he drew his sword, the king had reappeared almost as quickly, looking like a man who had been running.

  Now they travelled as a group between two trees, no different from any other trees, and yet Dray felt something cold across his skin. And then a very different world opened up before them. Green-grey buildings that would have disappeared into the trees lined a worn street. It was too wide to be a path, and the trees were suspiciously absent. The large village sat in a clearing that appeared to have been carved into the forest. Surely someone would have mentioned such a place.

  “The Seat…” he started to ask. Although he wasn’t quite sure what he was asking.

  “Not the Seat,” the man said, barely glancing over his shoulder at Dray. The girl shivered, then clenched and unclenched her hands. She had been holding on to the king for so long she didn’t appear to know what to do now that she wasn’t. Dray was sure the king himself was relieved of the burden.

  Ende continued to stare at the back of the man they followed. Although the sky had opened up around them, Dray was starting to feel as hemmed in as Ende appeared to be. As they moved along the street, more men appeared in doorways and between buildings. They were similarly dressed, although he didn’t notice any weapons. Small faces, children, leaned back from the windows. He was sure they wanted to look, but parents might not want them too close.