by Aderyn Wood
“Well, do you think it's true? Do you think there is a traitor amongst us who has been feeding Ricardo information? About me?”
“The matter hasn’t been a concern of late. But certainly, when Rhys raised it, I did wonder how Ricardo found you. We’d taken such trouble to keep you hidden.” Her eyes scanned the table as though the answer rested somewhere among the apples, pears and grapes that lined the tray. “What makes you mention it now, daughter?”
Dale opened her mouth to speak, to tell her mother it was one of the messages the prophecy had given her. One trusted, is the traitor… But Dale’s voice wouldn’t work. She frowned and opened her mouth to try again, still nothing.
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“What is it? Why can’t I tell you? When I try, I can't speak.”
“The prophecy told you something of the traitor, yes?”
Dale could only blink.
“Vexing,” her mother muttered. “Some messages we can share, others we cannot.” She sighed. “Do not trouble yourself. If there is a traitor, we will ferret them out like a rabbit from its warren.”
“Are you sure?” Dale suddenly wondered if the traitor was more of a threat than they realised. Whenever she thought about that part of the prophecy, her skin prickled as though she was being watched.
But her mother smiled and put a warm hand over hers. “I’m quite sure. And thank you for letting me know. I’ll meditate on it." The queen's eyes traced Dale's aura. "Now tell me, why did you ask Rhys to look for Ness?”
Dale froze. “So you did hear me ask him that. I thought you might.”
“These.” Her mother touched the tip of one delicately pointed ear. “Are sensitive, you know.”
Dale put her cup down. “I keep dreaming of Ness. I see her in a dark, cold place. Every time she looks worse, thinner, like she’s wasting away. Like she’s dying. It’s so real, Mother! I know you’ve tried to summon her before, and to scry. But could you try again? I just can’t shake the feeling she needs our help.”
The queen took a long breath and her eyes fell to her lap. “Dalendra, I’m sorry, I’ve tried to make contact with Nessa so many times I cannot count them. She has gone. There is nothing we can do.”
No! Dale scrunched her eyes tight, and swallowed against the burning sensation in her throat, but hot tears escaped anyway.
Her mother squeezed her hand. “Your dreams are probably grief dreams. You need to remember that. I don’t want you to send your sprite any more, or ask Rhys to search for her. We need to accept the fact that Nessa has gone. For good. I’m sorry, darling daughter. You must come to terms with your loss.”
Dale nodded, but the tears still fell, hot and wet, and made her eyes sting.
After breakfast, Dale returned to her room. Her mother had cast a light amelioration spell that made her feel warm and lifted her mood. Normally, Dale didn’t like her moods altered with magic. But now she didn’t mind so much. It was nice to shake off the dark feeling the dreams had left her.
It was a beautiful day with warm sunshine and no breeze, perfect for riding. In her room, she went to the chest in the corner where she kept her small supply of armour and weapons. She pulled out her sword, briefly admiring the dragonhead hilt before buckling it to her waist. It was time she started wearing it while riding.
On the way out, she stole an apple from the kitchen and received an earful from Ma'r Warmston about how she knew the apple was for that over-pampered horse, and soon there'd be no apples left for people let alone horses and it was nigh time certain horses grew a taste for turnips. Dale raced across the kitchen gardens, stopping once to pluck a carrot, and continue running until the cookery master’s nagging faded.
At the stables, she found Balak spreading a new bed of straw in the horse bays.
“Morning, Balak.”
“Good morrow, Princess.” He stopped what he was doing, resting an arm on the pitchfork, to give a broad smile. “I heard about your victory yesterday.” He said, pointing to her sword. “I guess our little chat helped.”
“Yes, thank you. I may not be much of a sorcerer, but I know how to wield a sword.”
“And does this mean you’ll be going to the front?”
Dale bit her lip and gave Balak a sidelong glance. “I probably shouldn’t be saying this as no one knows yet, but I’ve just been talking with my mother. Well, I’m not going. Everyone else is – all the other sorcery novices, and most of the combat novices. But I’m to stay here until my magic starts to work properly.”
“And you still think you’ve failed everyone?”
“I do.” She scuffed the ground with her foot. “I just can’t help feeling so useless. I mean, they’ve all put so much hope and energy into me and so far, I’ve given nothing back.”
“Well, except for decent sword fighting skills. But, I suppose that wouldn’t be such a handy thing to have in a war now would it?”
“I suppose I’m good for that.”
"I hear you healed young Rhys, too. So you're good for that as well." He winked.
Dale shrugged. "I did, but if you asked me to do it again now, well I'm not sure I could. My magic is still too unreliable." A sudden yawn shook her and she wiped her eyes.
“Didn’t sleep well last night?” Balak asked as he turned to pick up more straw.
“Dreams.”
“Ahh, the good ones or the bad ones?”
Dale liked talking to Balak, he wasn’t judgmental. He seemed to accept her for who she was. She didn’t feel the weight of expectation from him that she felt with everyone else. Perhaps he would have some ideas about Ness. “They’re bad dreams actually, about Ness.”
“Oh?” He stopped spreading the straw again, a look of curiosity in his eyes.
“Ness dying.”
“Have you raised this with your mother?”
“Yes, but she thinks it’s just my way of grieving.”
“Well, that would make sense, I suppose.”
“The trouble is, I just can’t stop thinking about her. And the dreams seem so real. Like she’s trying to reach out to me.”
“Well, there’s only one way you could find out.”
Dale looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“If you want to find out if the dreams are real or not, you would have to return to Earth and see if you could find her for yourself.”
Dale shook her head. “My mother would never permit it.”
“That’s right. You’re too valuable to send back there all by yourself.”
Dale humphed. “I’m not really valuable at the moment. I’m just sitting here, not doing anything to help.” Dale chewed her lip. “But if Ness were alive, and I could bring her back, then I’d be helping wouldn’t I?” She straightened her shoulders, suddenly energised. Sa’r Aethyll had mentioned before if Ness was still with them, they’d have a decent chance in the war effort. Maybe she could help after all. “I mean, Ness is a very powerful sorcerer, almost as powerful as my mother, and she’s had more experience with Ricardo than any of the other sorcerers here in the Borderlands. If I could bring her back, then I'd be doing something useful. I'd be contributing!”
“Whoa, hang on a moment, Princess. You just said yourself that your mother wouldn’t allow you to return to Earth by yourself.”
Dale’s shoulders slumped. “I know. You’re right.” Mother would never agree. “Can I take Stella for a ride?”
Balak smiled. “Your mother took her for a ride at dawn, but knowing Stella she won’t back off from another one.”
Dale found Stella in the paddock at the back of the stables. She gave her the apple, then the carrot, and laughed when Stella pressed her velvety nose into Dale’s hands for more. “Now, don’t be greedy. You should appreciate the treats I bring you. Ma’r Warmston says you need to acquire a taste for turnips.”
Stella snorted and stomped a hoof.
“Oh, they’re not that bad. Come on, let’s get you ready, I want to go for a long ride.” A ride was
just what she needed. But first, she had a long-awaited apology to make.
Dale still hadn’t spoken to Agathina since the combat trial the day before. So, after leaving the stables, she called on the little stone cottage Agathina shared with Hentiel. Dale left Stella in the small garden at the front, but Hentiel told her Agathina wasn’t in. When she opened her second sight, she knew Hentiel had been telling the truth at least, and she thanked him and mounted Stella before the mare consumed all of Agathina's daisies.
Dale gripped the reins as Stella galloped past fields of golden wheat to the south of Arcadia. She laughed as the wind tussled her hair. This was almost as good as sailing, or dancing with the sword. When they came to the line of trees that marked the edge of the forest, Stella slowed her pace and they trotted along the woodland path.
Birds flitted and darted, trilling a warning song to their friends. Butterflies danced in the streams of sunshine that penetrated the forest canopy and bees hummed around the Paulownia flowers. A happy calmness bloomed in Dale's heart, and it was easy to believe there was no war at all. But all of this peace would be at risk if the Unseelie continued winning ground. A shiver danced up her spine when she remembered her vision of Unseelie monsters climbing the high walls and towers of the palace.
She shook her head and reflected on what she’d said to Balak. Ness was a powerful sorcerer, and she did know a thing or two when it came to Ricardo and Natalia, and all the Unseelie. Maybe Dale’s dreams were true. Maybe Ness was really dying somewhere, just waiting for one of them to come and rescue her. What if she was hanging on to life by a thread?
Dale blinked. Stella had stopped walking and had her head down munching on some feral wheat. They were at a small cross-path in the forest. She could continue up the mountain trail and explore the forest some more. Or, head further west toward the clearing by a stream where she often met with Jaral and Agathina to practice magic, away from the prying eyes of others who might laugh at her, or doubt her further, when she failed to perform one spell or another.
Guilt filled Dale's mind and she rebuked herself again for kissing Jaral. If she were to be truthful, she had to admit she’d enjoyed his kiss. But she also savoured the fact that he had chosen her over Agathina. Agathina was beautiful, intelligent, talented and sweet. All the novices seemed to fall for her. All except the man Agathina had eyes for. Jaral was a charmer, but he seemed to have a genuine soft spot for Dale. After she left Agathina’s cottage she’d looked for Jaral too, but she hadn’t found him either.
But that kiss... Her fingers lightly brushed her lips before she snatched them down and sniffed. Betrayal. It was an ugly thing to do to a friend. What kind of person am I? She tried to think of an answer, but a rush of chanting filled her mind. The saviour shall have fire for hair and emeralds for eyes – her heart knows both goodness and evil. Dale shivered. Maybe she was the saviour after all. Betrayal was one kind of evil she knew about. Jealousy another, possibly.
Dale chose the path to the meadow and pulled Stella’s rein to the right. She must talk with Agathina soon. Right now, she could practice some magic alone in the meadow. It was amazing how she’d healed Rhys. Why did her magic work then? And just as she had wanted it. Perhaps practice was all she needed now.
Dale shook her head. Magic was just so damned elusive. Like trying to grasp a shadow. She understood the elements. She could imagine and visualise and meditate. She’d learnt by heart dozens of different spells using the old strange language of the ancients. And she knew how to draw on the elements in nature for power and how to transform them into renewed energy. She could command the free spirits more easily than anyone else. But when it came to putting it all together, to actually make magic happen, it was always a gamble. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. No one could tell her why.
Stella stopped walking again and whinnied.
Dale nudged her with her knees. “Come on, girl, let’s go to the clearing then you can rest and munch on the pasture you love so much.”
But Stella stood as still and stubborn as Troidan’s donkey, only her ears twitching. Then Dale heard the noise – a howl. The only wolf Dale knew that lived in Arcadia was Vulpanna, Agathina’s hysbryd. Another howl followed and Stella reared high, Dale just managed to cling to her, and in the next heartbeat, the mare was pounding the path, sprinting like an engine. Dale stood in the stirrups, knees bent and her heart in her throat. She had to concentrate to maintain balance and keep stride as well as avoid the slapping branches of surrounding trees. Stella was in her own trance now, one ruled by fear. Dale could only grip tighter. Another howl echoed, and then a growl, closer. Stella ran.
Dale took a chance and, gripping Stella’s mane, glanced over her shoulder. A wolf sprinted after them. Its menacing snarl just visible in glimpses between tree branches and fern fronds. Dale squinted, trying to concentrate, another wolf bounded off to the side. She faced front, her hair flying back. It was a pack and they were after Stella. What they were doing here? Usually they stuck to the upper mountains or the Forbidden Forests where both Seelie and Unseelie were forbidden to traverse.
The wolves drew closer. Dale had to do something. She gripped with her left hand and lifted her right to her sword still in its sheath at her waist. She could try to fight them off. Or she could attempt magic. The clearing loomed ahead. She would wait till Stella reached it and then tumble off and deal with them if she could. She had to protect Stella.
Two of them now ran off to the side, almost level with the mare. Their rage tangible. Her vision swirled, she could almost see through their eyes and feel the thrum of their hearts. The scent of blood and fear filled her nostrils. Dale shook her head and scrunched her eyes. Her own heart thudded and she egged Stella on. “That’s it girl, not long now!”
Finally, the familiar bend in the river came into view and Dale tried to steady her breathing. Stella pounded up the rocky path and through a low bush before plunging into the meadow. She skidded to a dramatic halt, rearing up, screaming a high-pitched whiney, and Dale fell with a thud, her breath taken from her, and she fought to get it back as she thrust her head up.
Wolves formed a circle in the meadow. All looking at her, panting hard. In the centre stood two familiar figures, Jaral and Agathina, both staring in shock.
“Dale, what are you doing?” Jaral asked as he raced over and offered her a hand.
Dale coughed. “I was… I was riding… and…”
“Easy now, get your breath back.”
Dale took deeper breaths. Agathina had gone to Stella and was patting her neck, calming her.
Strange, Dale thought. Stella isn’t afraid of the wolves now. When she looked around the wolves had also calmed. There were roughly twenty of them, sitting on their haunches and watching Dale with a tilt of head, or a wag of tail. Two of the wolves had started a play fight, and another rolled over as though sunning the underside of her belly.
“I was riding, Stella.” Dale tried again.
“Yes,” Jaral said.
“And these wolves, they came out of nowhere. I mean, what the hell is going on here?”
Jaral smiled, his amethyst eyes sparkling like two jewels. “Isn’t it amazing? After yesterday, seeing what Agathina could do, we thought we’d try something else. Dale, she can summon the forest wolves!” His smile showed his wonder.
Dale tried to smile too; she wanted to be pleased for her friend. And this was an additional bonus for the front. Wolves were highly efficient fighting machines and had been used by sorcerers in the past to kill the Unseelie. Balthrop had told her that. He’d read it in one history or another. Balak had also told her a similar story.
Jaral looked back at Agathina, admiration mixing with the wonder in his eyes.
Dale grimaced, and that ugly feeling stirred in her heart again. Am I truly jealous? Is that it? “Did you tell her that I told you about her feelings for you?” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice.
Jaral turned back to Dale and winked. “Let’s just say
I’m using that pearl of information to my advantage.”
He held out his hand again to help her but she ignored it and stood by herself, her head a little dizzy. She took a deep breath and the dizziness passed.
“Stella!” she called. The horse whinnied and stepped toward Dale.
Agathina walked over too.
“Wait, what are you doing, Dale? I don’t think you should ride again for a while.” Jaral tried to hold her shoulder but she nudged it away.
“I don’t want to interrupt your time with your number one student. I’ll just get on my horse and leave you two be. Stella, come on.” Stella walked frustratingly slow.
“Dale? Is somewhat wrong?” Jaral wore a confused expression.
“Nothing. I just wish Stella would hurry up.”
Dale took a few steps and met Stella; she patted her nose and checked her legs. She was fine. Then she put a foot in the stirrups and hoisted herself on. She clicked her tongue, but Stella had found a green patch of vetch and was intent on finishing it before she moved anywhere. Dale frowned and forced the reins more assertively. “C’mon, Stella, let’s go.”
Stella gave a soft grunt that said, I’m not moving anywhere.
“I’m sorry about the wolves. They weren’t after Stella. It’s just that I had summoned them and they all raced to get here. I’m sorry if it frightened you.”
Dale glanced at Agathina. Her friend looked beautiful as always, the midday sunshine lit up her silky hair. But anger still flared in her amber eyes where usually there was only kindness.
She’s still angry for that kiss. An ugly gladness bloomed in Dale’s heart, then she immediately felt bad about it. She needed to stop being such an adolescent. She was supposed to be an adult now, and a princess, but her emotions about everything were so raw. She'd always known she had feelings for Rhys, but Jaral was confusing all of that. She just wanted to be angry right now and Agathina proved a convenient target.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll leave you to your new boyfriend.” She gave Stella a kick and the mare moved on.
“Dale, your sword.” Jaral ran after her and handed Dale her sword. “What did you say to her?” There was anger in his eyes too now.
