The Sultana’s Failing Health
The Sultana had ruled a long time, almost her entire life. Her mental capacities were still as sharp as a pin, but she was well aware that death was approaching. She grew weaker every day, and was no longer capable of fulfilling all her duties. Heggor the Healer had kept the degenerative process at bay as long as she could, but in order for the treatment to work, the fibers in the body had to be resilient enough to respond to the light energy pulse and compounds in the tinctures. The Sultana's fibers had been revived so many times, they had become completely worn, never to be pliant again. Her body was being consumed by disease.
Aching from head to toe, she sat in her bed, propped up by amethyst velvet pillows. Her attendant, Raina, had just finished briefing her on the upcoming trip to the Fairy Forest. “We leave midday tomorrow,” she said as she leafed through papers, making sure she'd gone over the important points. She looked up. “Everything’s ready for your visit.…” She hesitated. “… that is, if you’re sure you’re up to it.”
The Sultana wasn’t sure, but she was resolved to go. Fairies had been friends to the Zaradians from the beginning, as far back as anyone could remember. Every family housed two or three of them, employing them as companions and housekeepers. They took the positions voluntarily, and were amply compensated for their services. And fairies were nice to have around. With their charm and easy laughter, they invariably became part of the family, frequently living out their lives in the care of those who they had taken care of.
“I love the fairies so deeply, you know,” sighed the Sultana. “Can you believe I have never had a disagreement with any of them? Not one. They have to be the most agreeable darlings I’ve ever known.” The Sultana adoringly regarded the two fairies at her side, Nika and Tika, male and female twins. They had been with her for many years, turning old and grey right along with her. They smiled at her kind words.
The Sultana sat up a bit, breathing heavily, and became animated as she remembered the past. “When I was only a small child, my mother left me alone in the meadow for a few minutes while she went back to our dwelling for a basket she'd forgotten. I quickly became too hot and sought the shade of the nearby forest. I was familiar with the fairies who lived with us, but knew nothing of the multitude that dwelt in the woodland.
“When I entered the forest, I heard the strangest sounds; humming and buzzing coming from all sides. It mesmerized me. Trails of light wove in circles all around me, accompanied by giggling. I saw tiny creatures flitting here and there so rapidly, I couldn't make them out. Then one hovered right in front of me and I said, ‘You’re not my fairy.’ She laughed and asked if I were lost. We had a nice chat and then she took me back to the meadow where my mother was frantically calling for me.”
The Sultana was happy to talk of these things, but it made her tired and short of breath. “So you see, I've always had a special place in my heart for the fairies. They fit in the palm of your hand, but have hearts the size of mountains....” The Sultana tried to stretch her arms out to illustrate the size of the fairies' hearts, but was seized by a violent fit of coughing.
Nika and Tika rushed over and propped up the pillow.
“Rest now, Sultana,” soothed Tika. “Don’t talk anymore,” added Nika.
Raina quickly poured a pool of sapphirecolored syrup into a spoon and held it to the Sultana's lips. As soon as she swallowed, the coughing subsided. She collapsed into the softness of the violet pillows and slept.
Fairies Shouldn’t Fly At Night
The suns descended. Pink and orange swirls bled into indigo clouds and the sky’s horizon faded into dusk. Astriella yawned after a long day of work in the courtyard. She, along with thousands of other fairies, had spent hours weaving a delicate string of white garlands that wound endlessly through the trees of the outdoor theatre where the Sultana could enjoy their fragrance and beauty.
They usually used the fuchsia trumpet flowers. But only one flower had blossomed this year … a drought resistant, less fragrant bloom that didn’t have the longevity the other one had.
Fairies were normally talkative, playful and giggly. But as she looked up from her handiwork, Astriella saw nothing but sleepy eyes and nodding heads. Along with the hard work, the rationing of food and water made them listless and uncharacteristically quiet.
Their supervisor stretched his arms and blinked his burning eyes. “Alright, that’ll do. You can all go home.” He rubbed his eyes, then clapped his hands together, trying to muster up good cheer. He flew backwards to observe the effect of their long day of toiling. “You’ve done a lovely job everyone! Look at what we’ve created! Wondrous!”
They all put a bit of distance between themselves and the scene to see the effect of their hard work. The paper thin white blooms laced through the trees in a beautiful, lilting pattern that stretched all the way to the back of the theatre and up to the canopy. They had created an enchanting white world, thought Astriella.
This sparked a little energy back into the group, who congratulated one another, said their goodbyes and, fluttering their wings, headed home for the night. Rehearsals having ended, the musicians packed up their instruments, while dancers and acrobats shimmied off the stage.
Astriella looked around for Pongo, who had been working with the performers. They hadn’t planned on flying home together, so after a cursory glance, she waved to her friends and flew off into the darkening forest alone.
She was more tired than she realized and had a hard time staying awake in the dying light. Sleep flying was a perilous enterprise for fairies; so easy to slip into, and a danger to be avoided at all costs. She caught herself nodding off a couple of times before finally succumbing.
She descended slowly as her fluttering wings gradually folded against her back in repose. Finally, she touched ground. She was lucky to have landed in something soft, but she had the misfortune of landing in the gluey, sticky web of a carnivorous orak. And that orak, who had been in a kind of predatory half slumber known only to spiders, felt the welcome vibration of dinner arriving in its trap.
Astriella wasn't the least bit disturbed by the fall. She gently sighed and snuggled into the blanket of softness, a little smile curling about the edges of her mouth, and surrendered to peaceful oblivion.
In its underground nest, the red eyes of the orak flicked open. It lengthened its legs, raised its body and began grooming its mandibles in preparation for a long awaited meal.
Trapped
In the darkness of its earthy tunnel, the orak secreted a thin layer of venom from the tips of its fangs. When a sufficient amount had coated the razor sharp points, it raised its two front legs and began the task of polishing them in a flurry of swift strokes. When that was finished, it turned around and raised its antennae into the air. It could sense the rapid rhythm of blood coursing through Astriella’s little body and recognized her scent, having dined on fairies before. It also sensed something else – the vibration of an approaching interloper from off in the distance; and judging by the tremors, it was very large.
From the depth of the forest, a faint melody wove its way through the air. It was the voice of Miranda, who as she slowly rode Cavalo through the dusky air. Her soft voice filled the air with an old island strain.
Oh Moon Mother
Oh Sun Father
Oh Terra life.
If the truth be known,
Then the way is light.
And I will use my might
To protect my home.
Her three pet ninxes trotted beside her –ninxes were obedient four legged pets with able snouts and paws. She had taken them here to dig up wild roots. Her saddlebags were full of these savory morsels, and she was glad to be bringing them home to her mother to cook for supper. They were on the small side and a little wrinkled, but they would have to do.
Astriella's eyes fluttered open. At first she didn't know where she was. But when her mind cleared, she knew what had happened. A tiny smile drifted across her lips
as she laughed at her folly. But when she tried to get up and couldn’t, she quickly realized that her resting place was the terrible trap of a deadly orak. Her smile faded.
She knew exactly what was coming; a gruesome death – an ending all fairies feared and which many succumbed to. At first she waited quietly while her skin chilled in the night air. Then she struggled against the viscous substance, but was unable to free herself from its grip. It was impossible to pull away from the gluey web. Any sound might bring her killer sooner, but she had to take the risk. There was no other choice now but to cry out.
She yelled as loudly as her little voice could manage, “Help! Help! Anybody, help, please, HELP!”
Miranda, hearing something, brought Cavalo to a halt and listened. A ninx rubbed up against Cavalo's leg, provoking an affectionate “Reow.”
“Quiet, Cavalo,” she whispered. She recognized the faintest sound of crying. “A fairy! In distress!” she exclaimed. She prompted Cavalo who broke into a gallop, the ninxes following close behind.
The orak wound its way through the underground tunnel it had fastidiously dug weeks before. As it approached the surface, it saw moonlight filtering across the edge of the opening. Astriella, seeing the shadow, panicked, but pulled away in vain.
She called out again, “Help!! Help!!!” The ground began to quake. Then heavy pounding grew louder and louder, making the orak, unsure of the source of the disturbance, hesitate.
Miranda called out, “Little fairy, hold on! I'm coming!”
“Please hurry!!” Astriella yelled back.
Miranda sped past the trees, following the small voice. “Where are you, fairy?!”
“Over here! Over here!” Astriella answered. Astriella spotted the blur of Cavalo’s hooves, then saw Miranda. What luck! A Young Warrior! “Down here!” Astriella cried.
Miranda dismounted before Cavalo came to a halt. She fell to the ground and rolled to Astriella.
“Quickly!” sobbed the little fairy.
The orak poked the top of its black head up through the hole to survey the situation.
Miranda grabbed Astriella and pulled hard. The sinewy web stretched, but would not break. Miranda pulled harder, and the web elongated, stretching out thin and taut.
“Look!” cried Astriella, her eyes fixed on the orak’s menacing stare.
The orak did not like competition.
It jumped toward Miranda's hand.
Miranda pulled to the left, just out of reach of the large fangs, causing the lithe predator to land on the other side of the web. At first it was confused, then understood it had missed its mark. It turned around and eyed its lost prey, creeping closer as Miranda pulled out her dagger.
With all her strength, she strained to bring Astriella toward her, pulling the web as hard as she could, and vigorously sawed at the tough fibers.
The orak paused, momentarily mesmerized by the rapid movement. But its hunger snapped it out of its reverie. It gradually drew closer, slowly creeping, positioning itself for a strike.
Miranda stopped sawing to take a stab at him, but he dodged the attack and scurried into a crevice.
She continued to cut at the web; and just as she was down to the last strands, the orak jumped out from its hiding spot and raced up to snatch its prize. The final shred snapped apart as Miranda pulled Astriella just out of reach. Astriella was safe but it was too late for Miranda; sharp fangs sunk deeply into her hand.
“Ooow!!” she cried.
The pain shot up her arm, then the poison paralyzed her from the top of her wrist to the tips of her fingers. She felt faint.
The world spun around her, her vision blurred. She struggled to stay awake and keep her eyes from shutting. She lost her grip on Astriella.
“Aaaah!” Astriella cried as she fell backwards onto her right wing. She tried to fly, but her wing was too damaged; she couldn't lift off. She broke into a run, wisps of the web trailing behind her, creating a perfect target for the attacker as it scurried at top speed toward the injured fairy. It gained on her until it was able to pull her into its grip and drag her back to its nest.
Miranda’s eyes blinked and some of her vision was restored, at least well enough to see the orak escape down the hole with Astriella in its deadly grasp. She used her acute sense of hearing to determine the location of the creature as it delved deeper into its tunnel.
Fighting the effects of the poison, she balanced on her knees. Sweat dripped down the side of her face. She must be exact. There! She raised her dagger with both hands and brought it down swiftly, first piercing the earth, then feeling a crack as the blade broke through the center of the orak’s hard shell.
Miranda dug into the earth with her bare hands until she found the unconscious fairy, covered in dirt. She carefully reached in and gently lifted her. Her limp body seemed lifeless. Miranda held the fairy up to her ear and was relieved to hear a steady heartbeat. She brushed her off as best she could, laid her in the front pocket of her cloak and stumbled over to Cavalo while the ninxes dug up and devoured the orak’s tasty remains.
Astriella’s Discovery
As the dawn shed its blue glow into Miranda’s bedroom, Astriella slept peacefully in the silky interior of an ornatelycarved wooden jewelry box. Miranda had emptied the box the night before, dumping necklaces and rings out and gingerly placing Astriella over the padded satin, carefully covering her with a red scarf.
The door to Miranda’s bedroom creaked open softly, and Miranda came in, carrying a tray. Astriella stirred and opened her eyes, taking a moment to remember where she was. “Good morning, little friend,” smiled Miranda.
Astriella smiled back. “Good morning, big rescuer!” She tried to stretch her wings, but grimaced in pain. She craned her neck to see the damaged wing on her left side. “Ooooh, my wing,” she lamented.
Miranda put the tray on the table. “Let me take a look at it.”
She saw where the wing had been bent and crumpled and attempted to straighten it, but Astriella winced at her touch. “Be gentle, now,” she said.
“You are delicate, aren't you? You're lucky you survived, you know.”
Miranda brought over a small plate of cooked grains and placed it in front of Astriella, who took a bite and grinned. “Yes, I'm fragile as a flower, a new budding spring flower.” She giggled. “I owe my life to you, Young Warrior.”
“Well, then,” Miranda smiled back. “I’ll think of something you can do for me!”
“Anything!” They giggled as they sipped their tea.
“What's your name?” Miranda asked.
“Astriella.”
“Very pretty.”
Astriella took another bite and thought about what this person really meant to her. “You really did save me,” she said, almost as a revelation.
“You were almost dinner. What were you doing out so late all by yourself?”
“I was flying home from the courtyard, and I was so very tired from working, I must have fallen asleep and – oh no!”
“What is it?” asked Miranda.
“I just remembered I'm supposed to be helping them get ready for the Sultana's visit today.” She paused. “They say it's going to be her last time in the Fairy Forest,” she added sadly.
Miranda found this sentiment heartwarming. The fairies were always so thoughtful. “So I've heard.”
“Even a Young Warrior like yourself knows....”
“Yes?”
“Well, I’m sure you know the Sultana is very ill and will be stepping down from the throne soon.” She looked sad again. “Isn't that sad?”
It was sad, yes. But in more ways than the fairy knew. She didn't have the heart to make her even sadder with her own problems. “Yes, it is,” she agreed.
Miranda was going to ask Astriella more about herself when she heard the sound of a knock at the front door. They had arrived.
Miranda’s mother opened the front door of the cottage. There stood two of the High Council members. The older one, Raya, had jet bla
ck hair, streaked with white at the temples, and a face that radiated joy. The other one, Bajo, was younger, but decidedly on the stern side. Her strawberryblond hair was pulled back into a tight bun, making her sour face even more pale and tart. Athedra led them into the sitting room.
Raya spoke first, smiling broadly and waving her hands. “Athedra, we are very excited. The royal residence has been working around the clock preparing the castle ready for Miranda's arrival. She will come to us in just a few days to live at the palace in seclusion. After twenty-eight days of preparation, she will be crowned Sultana on the new moon!”
Raya glowed with anticipation of this great day. Athedra, overflowing with pride, smiled in return.
Bajo remained serious, almost solemn. “It will be the end of an era.” Her eyes began to well up. She tried to keep them in, but there was no stopping the flood of tears. She wiped them away on the sleeve of her cloak. Raya put an arm around her friend, but this only caused Bajo to cry harder, and more loudly.
“If there's any chance that Sultana Henrita can continue, Miranda can wait…,” started Athedra.
“No, no, no,” said Raya decisively. “Sultana Henrita has been well loved, and we will all miss her. But she is fading quickly and will be gone soon. She won't live more than a couple of seasons. She knows that as well as anyone. We must prepare for Miranda’s arrival now.”
This comment propelled Bajo into a fresh wave of sobbing.
Astriella, who had been listening intently, realized everything in a moment. She looked at Miranda with wide eyes. “You! You're the one! The next Sultana!”
Miranda grinned and held out her hand. “Come with me,” she said.
The Larimar Quest (Island Of Zarada Book 1) Page 3
