She was Amee’s contrast in every way: eyes the color of hydrangeas after rain; golden, shimmering hair that cascaded down her back—as though spun from sunlight; pale skin, pink cheeks, and well-endowed curves. She was the sun in all its glory.
Somehow she’d managed to encompass every ideal of Traborian beauty and still take it to a new level of perfection. Amee dug her fingers into the wood sill. Something tugged at the back of her tunic. She batted behind her and felt the soft touch of Talzar’s nose.
“Talzar, stop it.” The horse continued his play, bumping her with his muzzle.
Another light, airy laugh burst from Raina’s perfect pink lips. Amee clenched her jaw and shifted to escape Talzar’s tugging.
The stool teetered and sent her tumbling to the floor. A quick shriek escaped her as she fell. Hay cushioned her fall and sent dust motes into the air. She blew a stray piece of hair out of her eyes and glared at the horse. Talzar tossed his head, looking pleased with himself. Scowling, Amee rose to her feet and half-heartedly brushed off her tunic.
“I must say, this . . . stable looks better on the outside,” a disdainful voice remarked.
Amee’s hands froze. That woman was in her stables. She crept to the stall door and peered out. Standing at the entrance, her hands firmly clasped around Falan’s arm, was Raina. The disgust on her face sent anger through Amee’s heart. How dare she think the stables her father carefully attended were beneath her!
“We can leave if you wish.” Falan lifted Raina’s hand and placed a kiss on it.
Raina sent him a simpering smile. “Oh, but I so do want to pick out my own horse. I think I can bear this place for awhile.”
Hearing the noise, Talzar bumped his head past Amee and whinnied. Amee drew away from the door and pressed her back against the wall.
“Ooh, Falan! That one there. I must have him.”
Amee gave a silent groan. Not Talzar. She’d just got him cleaned up and it had rained last night.
“Where are your stable people?” Raina complained. “Surely they’re not shirking their duties.”
Amee clenched her fists. Shirking, the notion. Her father had gone to town to pick up a new stallion the king had ordered, and she wished with all her might that he was back. She didn’t want to go out there, but if she didn’t her father might get in trouble.
She pushed away from the wall and opened the stall door. Maybe she could talk them out of taking Talzar.
She faced the couple and watched their shock at her appearance fade into . . . Raina placed a hand over her mouth and giggled. Leaning against Falan’s arm, she mock whispered, “Does your help sleep in this hovel?”
Remembering her fall into the hay, Amee brushed at her hair and felt straw sticking out of it. Her clothes were dusty, sweat stuck to her skin, and she could feel dirt in every pore on her face and under every rough nail. Embarrassment at her appearance and station flooded her, followed quickly by shame at the thought. She didn’t need anyone’s approval but her own.
“Can I help you with anything?” Amee fought to keep her voice neutral.
Raina released her hold on Falan and stepped forward. “We wish to go for a ride.” She gestured at Talzar. “Saddle that horse for me at once.”
A muscle jumped in Amee’s cheek. “It is muddy out and this horse has just been cleaned. Surely your ladyship would prefer another horse.”
The condescending smile slipped from Raina’s face. “Excuse me. Are you defying me?”
The stable darkened and a chill swept through Amee. She shivered and, for a fleeting moment, imagined the change in weather stemmed from Raina’s mood. “Falan, surely you and your . . . lady can choose horses that I haven’t spent all morning cleaning.”
“How dare you address His Highness so informally!” Raina spat. “How dare you address him at all.”
Amee didn’t take her gaze off Falan. His eyes were like shards of ice. Cold, unyielding. “If you do not wish to obey Lady Raina’s wishes, perhaps we should find someone who will.” He stared right through her as he spoke. “Your father is getting on in years, and if it is too much of a burden for him to tend the stables to the point where he uses—”His eyes skimmed her frame and his lip curled as the cold words continued“—incompetent, ill-favored workers—”
Pain seared Amee’s heart. Of course she’d grown up hearing the remarks people made about her un-Traborian appearance, but never from Falan.
“—then perhaps it’s time for him to be replaced.”
Amee’s mouth dropped and the fight drained from her. She couldn’t cost her father his job. Her parents needed this work, and no one would hire them if they were fired from the king’s service. Eyes down, she put every ounce of subservience into her voice that she could muster. “I will ready your horses at once, Your Highness. Forgive my moment of impropriety.”
Numb, she saddled Talzar as well as Falan’s horse. She even managed to ignore Raina’s deliberate placement of her muddy shoes on her shoulders as she helped her mount. Head down, she waited for them to leave. Raina trotted out, but Falan lagged behind for a moment.
He spoke down at her bowed head, “You would do well to remember your place, and that it is through the kindness of my family that you enjoy such privilege.”
Then he was gone. Amee wasn’t sure how much longer she stood there before her father found her and led her to a bale to sit. She never told him what happened, but things were never the same again.
Secretly her parents were relieved that the prince’s attentions had moved on, and hoped that Amee would recover and make healthier relationships.
Forgotten and alone, the days slipped by and the light inside Amee grew faint. She knew her love had been futile, but to have Falan so completely discard her had never entered into her thoughts. In the light of Raina, it was like she had never existed, and indeed, some days she wished she could simply fade away.
It was a surprise to no one, not even Amee, when Prince Falan announced his engagement to Lady Raina. The kingdom rejoiced as their crown prince prepared for his wedding, all except the family in the little house on the hill. Amee was heartbroken. Her parents could hardly celebrate when their only child was so despondent. Sadly, nothing could alleviate the pain, and soon the wedding was upon them.
It was a beautiful wedding. The castle and grounds were glorious. The cake was divine, the flowers magnificent, and the weather perfect. The prince was handsome, and the bride, well, everyone described her differently. In short, she was the most beautiful thing the people had ever seen.
A cottage on the hill held the only wet spot of the day, a broken-hearted woman sobbing on her mother’s lap.
Afterwards Amee could not bear to stay at the stables any longer and began to stay at home with Elena. How could she watch someone else living the life she’d wanted, with the man she had once loved? Something in her died.
The pained faces of her parents and their transparent efforts to cheer her up eventually grew too hard to bear. Not knowing what purpose her life held, she knew she did not want to spend her days being reminded of all that she had lost.
So it was that she informed her parents she would be leaving to find her own way in the world. They were beside themselves with grief but wanted what was best for the daughter of their hearts.
Jakan used a good portion of his life savings to buy the young colt who had been born that fateful day when Raina had entered Falan’s life. The colt was too young to ride, of course, but something told Jakan it was the right choice. He presented it to Amee as a parting gift. Knowing what it must have cost, she tried to refuse. They insisted that they had no use for a horse from the king’s stables and that it would pleasure them greatly if she would accept. At last, Amee caved and gratefully accepted the colt. She named him Benoni, son of my sorrows.
With her bags packed, Amee said her final goodbyes. After a good deal of hugging and tears, she looped Benoni’s reins around her hand and walked away. She only looked back once, when she could stil
l make out their faces. Her parents were still standing there watching—Jakan with his arm around a sobbing Elena and his other hand held high in farewell.
As Amee turned back to her path, a tear slipped down her cheek and fell to the ground. It was the last tear she ever shed, and in the weeks that followed, a tree sprang up from that spot.
As the tree grew, Jakan and Elena tended it, not knowing what had caused it but seeing it as a symbol of their daughter. When spring came the following year, the tree blossomed with beautiful, white flowers. So it was that the first and only snow fountain tree came to Trabor.
Years passed, and all seemed peaceful in the land. The kingdom flourished, and the people prospered, until . . .
Tragedy struck when an unknown disease claimed the lives of the king and queen.
Falan ascended the throne with Raina at his side.
But far away from the castle, in the forest along the southern border, a darkness festered. The forest, once a place of tranquility, grew sinister—darker, quieter, and overgrown.
Villagers, who had once relied on the bounty of the forest, entered less and less. Some said they could hear whispers drifting amongst the leaves. Soon, only a few dared to enter the forest. Many never returned. Some returned after a time, addled or paranoid.
Rumors started to grow, spreading to other villages—stories to scare children or captivate an audience, tales of a witch who captured and tortured anyone who dared to enter the border forest. It was said that the ones who came out with only their minds gone were the lucky ones. Eventually the trips into the forest ceased, though the stories did not.
As it is with most rumors, the tales were all a load of nonsense cemented in a grain of truth. For the wood was indeed more sinister, and a woman did live amongst the trees. A witch, not so much, a better term would have been sorceress, a word that was far more frightening if the villagers had known. A witch for all intents and purposes is mostly harmless. For witches have no magical powers, but use herbs and superstition to shroud themselves in mystery. They prefer to be left alone, and in turn, leave others alone.
Sorceresses are quite another matter, for magic flows through their veins. Unlike witches, they do not leave people to their lives. At first, perhaps, but if one has possession of magic in a place where there is no magic, it is only a matter of time before they abuse that power.
In the darkness of the forest, the sorceress grew stronger, waiting for her moment to strike.
More years went by, and one bitter cold winter brought about two momentous occasions. When the snow finally melted and the first flowers of spring began to peep forth, a proclamation was sent throughout the land. The queen had delivered a child during the winter months: a baby girl who would inherit the throne.
Bells rang out from every steeple, dances were held in every town, and from far and wide, many came to see the newborn princess. She was the image of her parents, cornflower blue eyes and fine blonde hair. Her chubby cheeks were the delight of all who saw her, and she had a smile for everyone.
The second event, by contrast, was not a happy one. If the couriers had not needed the use of the palace horses to deliver their message, then I imagine it would have been quite some time before the absence of the stable master had been noticed. Even then, it was a few days before anyone thought to go check the house on the hill. It was the palace blacksmith who finally decided to make sure the couple was all right. He had been as near to friends with Jakan as anyone could claim.
When he reached the top of the hill, he was shocked to find nothing. There was no house, no old couple, not a trace that a family had ever lived there. Gone was the small garden, the stone well, and the chicken coop. There was naught but new spring grass covering the hilltop.
Turning to leave, he saw, on one side of the hill, a beautiful tree blossoming. Not knowing what drew him, he found himself standing next to the snow fountain. Nestled under its weeping branches was a large, fresh grave, with only a light covering of grass. The stone marking the grave confirmed that it held Jakan and Elena. The only other words engraved there were “loving mother and father.”
Taking his hat off for a minute in respect for the two good people buried there, the man finally turned and walked away. Behind him, the tree waved in the breeze, shedding its blossoms like tears onto the grave below.
I suppose I need not tell you who had performed the burial. Yes, it was indeed Amee who had returned home to bury her parents. She had awoken one morning with a feeling of loss that ran so deep she knew something terrible had happened. Two days of hard riding had brought her back to the only place that had ever truly been home.
Walking inside the cottage, she felt the chill in the air and saw there was no fire in the hearth. Upon entering the back room, she saw what her heart had already known: her parents, their souls gone from their bodies, lay as if sleeping. Her eyes were moist as she noticed even in death they were holding hands. They looked so peaceful; she knew they had not suffered. If I had to guess, I would say old age and a harsh winter had taken their toll.
She dug the graves herself underneath the snow fountain, a tree she felt a part of somehow. It took a lot of effort and time to dig a hole large enough for two adults in the frozen ground. Eventually, though, it was done and she lowered a velvet-lined casket made of oak into the hole.
I am sure you are wondering where she had come by any casket, much less one of such splendor. But perhaps you already guessed the answer. The sorceress of the wood was none other than the raven-haired maiden who stood over the grave. Though she could’ve dug the hole using her magic, Amee wanted to do it herself— to feel the bite of the shovel handle in her palms, the sweat beading on her skin, the satisfying thud of each piece of dirt as it flew through the air and hit the ground.
Her energy spent afterwards, she gently levitated the bodies of Elena and Jakan out of the house, and lowered them into the waiting ground. She could not bear to separate them and left them holding hands. They had been simple people, but to Amee they were more royal than anyone else in the world. She transformed their poor clothing into lavish garments, ones even royalty would envy, but they didn’t look right and she knew then that they didn’t need rich clothing because they’d had a richness of spirit. With a whisper, the clothing changed into something simple, but clean and new. All was as it should be. Finally, she stood over them, the two most important people in her life.
“You took me into your hearts and home without hesitation. You gave this foreign-looking child a chance at a life with love. I will miss you, but it is better this way. I would not want you to see the person I have become, the person I intend to become. Knowing you would be disappointed in me was the one thing holding me back. Now you can rest in peace, and I can do what I need to do. I will always love you. Goodbye.”
With those final words, she closed the casket and began to scoop the dirt back in the hole. When it was done, she summoned a large stone from grove behind the cottage. Placing it at the head of the graves, she engraved their names and honored them as her parents.
Once back in the house, she walked through the rooms. There was the tiny kitchen where her mother had spent so many hours. Jakan had added both the kitchen and a bedroom for Amee one summer. Elena had glowed with pride at their four room cottage.
Amee’s feet brought her to the cramped room that held her roughly carved bed and washstand. She traced the snowflake design that Jakan had whittled for her. An echo of his cheerful whistling seemed to fill the room.
She couldn’t stay here, but neither could she bear to have someone else have her home.
She rested a hand on the doorframe, seeing the notches that Elena had used to mark her height as a child, and swept her gaze across the main room one last time.
“Goodbye.” The parting hung in the air as she walked out the door. Standing in the waning light, she faced the place that had once been home and cast a spell upon it. Within seconds, the house and all that surrounded it had vanished. It was still the
re, but invisible to all, and if you tried to get close, you would have found yourself turned about, and walking back the way you came.
She mounted Benoni and glanced to where the house had stood and then towards the grave of her parents. Closing her eyes, she breathed slowly. When she opened them, there was a new hardness in her gaze.
“I have nothing now, Benoni. Everything I ever loved has been ripped away with so little care, it is as if it meant nothing. But I refuse to be forgotten. I refuse to let my pain go unaccounted for. Tonight, my pain will be known, and I will have my vengeance.”
With a swift kick, she sent Benoni flying towards the lighted windows of the castle. She rode towards her revenge, ebony hair streaming behind her. A dark banner; a harbinger of death.
Chapter 6
A sudden crash interrupted Voice’s tale. Cali started and jumped back, knocking her chair over. She spun to see Angel on the floor, pinned awkwardly under a potted plant.
Angel disentangled herself from the mess of foliage before scrambling to her feet and brushing her skirt off, her cheeks full of color.
“It looks as though we had an unseen listener,” Voice said dryly.
The crimson in Angel’s cheeks deepened. “I’m so sorry. Well, I am sorry, and I’m not. I mean . . .” She took a deep breath and began again. “What I mean is, I didn’t intend to eavesdrop. I came down to join you for breakfast, and you were so caught up in the story that you didn’t see me. I stopped to listen for a bit, and it was such a good tale I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt.”
“Mmmm . . . and how did you get to be cuddling with the plant?” Voice queried, with a hint of amusement.
“I was not cuddling with it,” Angel retorted. “I worried that you’d notice me listening, so I hid behind it. Only because I didn’t want to distract you, of course.”
“Of course,” Cali agreed, keeping a straight face. “Let me help you set that upright, and then you can go back to hugging it or join us, whichever you prefer.”
Heart of the Winterland Page 6
