Lost Girl

by Mary E. Twomey

  Bastien pulled back, and then straightened, turning me so I was facing forward, instead of twisting to get a little bit more of his lips. “You can’t kiss me like that.” His command came out with a finality to it that confused me.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you mean it.” His body was stiff, his hand on my stomach taut instead of teasing. “I’m not good for you.”

  I shook my head more at myself than him. I could taste his helplessness and trust in that kiss; I should’ve known he’d bite. “Don’t be a donkey. Don’t take something beautiful and make it mean. I don’t know why you do that.”

  He ran a hand down his face to rid his lips of me. “Let’s just do the job. I’m engaged, Rosie. Some of the people here might know that. I don’t want them to think Reyn’s sister is a joke. I offered my hand to her to preserve her reputation, not wreck it more.”

  I didn’t answer; he didn’t need me to. He’d already shut down on me, and closed the door on us.

  Cheval waited the obligatory few seconds before consoling me with a stream of, “He’s confused. It’s not worth the tears,” and more things of that sort. Cheval was around despondent people a great deal of the time, so he was sweet to me and said the things a human might if they’d been a fly on the wall to watch it all go down.

  I’m not sure why I was surprised our connection crashed so easily, or how I’d let myself get tricked into thinking something flimsy at best was solid enough to lean on. I sucked down a steadying breath, keeping my chin high as my lueur settled back in my belly.

  21

  Aunt Avril

  Cheval trotted through the woods for a good twenty minutes of quiet tension before we reached a clearing. My eyes widened when I saw that it wasn’t just a few huts in the woods, but a whole city of one-story apartment cells. The two mile-long buildings on either side of the main path were made from wood, and stretched down for at least half a mile. Some doorways had a straw-braided thatched doormat laying down to wipe your feet on. Others had wreaths of thistles and various flowers twisted on the knocker. A few had boxes of herbs sitting under the one window each cell seemed to be equipped with.

  It was a cozy little city tucked inside the woods. A few dozen people were milling about, exchanging pleasantries and giving the Cheval Mallet furtive looks at bringing in two people at a time on this run.

  Bastien dismounted behind me and reached up to help me down. “I got it,” I responded, not unkindly. I swung my leg over the saddle and hopped down on the opposite side. I wondered how good I would get at riding horses by the time everything in Avalon was said and done. I switched my backpack from my front to my back, and kissed Cheval’s long cheek so he could stop his lengthy “Young love can be tricky” speech. I didn’t really want to hear anything more on the subject. “Can you take us to where the royals stay?”

  Cheval respected my change of topic and led us down the long rows of apartments toward the very end. “This is where the royalty live,” Cheval informed me, nodding his head toward the few cells on the left at the end.

  I motioned for Bastien to start at the last apartment and make his way down. I really wasn’t all that useful here, since I didn’t have a clue what Roland looked like. I was nervous, tucking back my flyaways into my ponytail and straightening my clothes as best I could. It was the first time I would be meeting my cousin, and I wanted to make a good impression. Damond and Draper had taken to me easily enough, but Gwen and Uncle Duke Henri hadn’t wanted me too near. I was determined Roland would break the tie, and tip the scales in the favor of “Rosie’s totally a cool branch to have on our family tree.”

  When the door on the end swung open at Bastien’s knock, I knew we had the wrong place. A woman blinked at Bastien with confusion that someone was disturbing her. Then a wave of recognition swept over her dainty features. She looked to be in her early forties, had a pinched nose, a few freckles on one cheek, dark brown hair that was pulled back into a crown of braids, and wore a simple dress that hung to her toes. “Bastien the Bold?” she inquired, gaping. “What are you doing in the Forgotten Forest?” Her eyes widened further and her mouth popped open. “No! You can’t be here! If you’re here, then there’s no one to stand up to Morgan! Avalon had a chance with you there to fight. What happened that made you give up and come here?”

  Bastien dropped down to one knee like a knight before her. “Your majesty, I’ve come to find Duke Roland. I didn’t know you’d be here. I thought you’d gone into the mist.”

  She placed her hand atop his head, which seemed to be the international way of saying, “Cool. You bowed, so now you can get up and keep your life.” Bastien rose, towering over her stature that wasn’t too much different than Lane’s. She managed a polite smile for him at having to talk about the life she’d left behind. “That’s what was about to happen. Morgan’s soldiers were inches away from ending my life, but the Cheval Mallet found me in the garden they were chasing me through. It was either die or live here, so I chose the Forest.” Her nose scrunched. “The people really think me dead? How is that possible? I didn’t leave behind a body to bury.”

  “A year and a half ago, there was a formal funeral, but the story spun was that your body had been pecked on by vultures, and wasn’t fit for the kingdom to see. So your body wasn’t put on display. I had no idea, your majesty.” He looked around. “Are there other rulers here?”

  She shook her head. “There’s Duke Roland and me. My nephew lives next door, but he’s out hunting right now. He should be back soon.”

  Bastien moved to the side and motioned me forward. “I brought someone you might be interested in meeting. Come on,” he said to me when my feet didn’t move.

  I was starstruck, for lack of a better term. As soon as I learned that Lane had eight sisters, and all but the evil one were dead, it didn’t occur to me to wish I had another aunt, other than Lane. Jill had an aunt who took her shopping once a month. They got their nails done and gossiped about which celebrity dude had a better butt in a tux (No lie. I’ve sat in on several of these conversations. In case you were wondering, it’s The Rock).

  I wanted to go to this woman, but my feet were frozen, so I stood there gaping like a fish with a low IQ. I had another aunt.

  Bastien watched me freeze up and crawl into my turtle shell, confused that this was who I actually was. I hadn’t had the option of hiding myself around him. He’d been so infuriating, I couldn’t help but talk back. But faced with a new family member? I felt like I had my hump and lazy eye, and that she’d take one look at me and wonder where it all went so wrong. Bastien’s eyebrows tented, and he moved over to me, reaching for my hand to pull me forward.

  That snapped me out of my reverie. I didn’t want him holding my hand. Not after destroying a kiss as beautiful as our last one. I finally took a step forward when Cheval nudged me toward her, informing me that he would be back soon with the jewels.

  “Hey. Good to meet you,” I offered up lamely. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to bow. She was wearing a dress, and I was a dirty girl in jeans. She’d grown up in a palace, and I, well, had not. She was going to hate me; I just knew it.

  “This is Duchess Avril of Province 8.” When I said nothing further after Bastien’s introduction, he grumbled, “Why are you being like this?”

  Avril waited patiently for Bastien and I to duke it out quietly. “I thought we were keeping me a secret,” I whispered to him.

  “From your family? She’s not with Morgan, Ro. We can trust her.” He motioned to the now hundreds of animals who were gathered behind Cheval, waiting on tiptoe and hoof for me to turn around and chat with them all. “And I hardly think people aren’t going to figure out who you are here. It’s not like I can keep all these animals away from you.”

  I took another tentative step forward, noting the similarities in her face to Lane’s, and a little bit mine. “I, um, I’m Rosie Avalon.” I swallowed the lump in my throat, remembering that my last name had been fabricated. “I think I might
be your niece, Ma’am.”

  Avril reeled back in confusion until Bastien filled in the gaps about my parentage. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but when Avril threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tight to her, I exhaled about ten percent of my nerves. “Rosalie? The Lost Princess of Avalon? Are you truly her?”

  My fumbling arms found their way around her hourglass waist. It was the same shape as mine and Lane’s. “Um, that seems to be the consensus.”

  Bastien groaned, as if my lack of royal awesomeness pained him. “She’s Morgan le Fae’s daughter, and she’s been living up in Common with Duchess Elaine since the two of them went missing. She only just learned about Avalon in the last two months.”

  When Avril finally pulled back, her arms remained around me while she examined my features. “You have my nose. All the sisters did. And the wavy brown hair, of course. You’re stunning, my dear. Lane? My baby sister is really alive? We all thought she must have died a Commoner. I mean, a duchess losing her magic in that world would be devastating. We never expected her to survive.”

  I nodded. “She’s alive and well. She raised me in Common and kept a roof over my head. We came back to Avalon because Morgan’s soldiers found me there, and they tried to kidnap me.”

  Avril stiffened, her emotional expression icing over with a queenly air. “You must stay here, and far away from Morgan. This is perhaps the only place you are safe. You can stay with me, or if you prefer, you can take the cell next door. Roland, I’m sure, wouldn’t be opposed to moving down to make room for you. Is that why you came here? To escape Morgan?”

  I looked around and noticed a couple dozen villagers wandering out of their homes. They gaped at my collection of animals, and then whispered about me, pointing with uncertain fingers at my face that looked, apparently, a lot like Morgan’s. I ducked my head and shoved my hands into my pockets. “I, um, can we talk about this somewhere private?”

  “Of course. Where are my manners? Come inside, darling.” She wiped a few tears on her sleeve. “Your Guardien can come in, as well.”

  I answered before Bastien could shoot me through the heart. “He’s not my Guardien. Just a guy Lane trusts to see me through Avalon, since I don’t know the area.”

  Avril nodded, as if it all made sense. “Ah. That rings more true. I didn’t guess Bastien the Bold would ever tie himself to one person. You’re welcome to come inside, Bastien. Thank you for escorting my niece safely through Avalon, and helping her stay hidden from Morgan. A true hero if ever I saw one.”

  Bastien grunted in response, miffed about something that crawled up his butt. I wasn’t interested in researching what he was annoyed about this time. It was hard to keep up with his mood swings.

  We went into the simple apartment that had one large main room with a kitchen and a living space, and a bedroom with a bath tub inside off to the right. The wooden floor was clean, and the apartment had no frills. Thinking further on that topic, I wondered how they would acquire things like paint, rugs, vases and whatnot. There wasn’t exactly a store where they could buy stuff. Everything was made by the people living here, which was kind of cool. Frontier life at its finest.

  Avril led us to the table, motioning for me to sit down. There were only two chairs, so Bastien stood behind me like a sentry. I scooted my handmade wooden chair to the side, so at least he could be part of the conversation, but he compensated and moved behind my chair again. “You don’t have to stand behind me, Bastien.”

  Bastien’s arms were tucked behind his back, like he was a military man readying for a command. “This is how a soldier behaves among royals, your grace,” he informed me.

  I cast him up a look of mild frustration. “Well, it gives me the creeps to have someone standing directly behind me. Could you just be normal?”

  A small smile played on Avril’s pink lips. “You’re welcome to take a chair from Roland’s place next door, if that would make the princess more comfortable.”

  “Yes, your majesty.” Bastien left and came back with no flair or backtalk. I barely recognized him. He sat in his chair next to me, angling it so he could be the first one to fend off an attack, should one come tramping through the front door.

  Avril directed the conversation back to me. “You came here to escape Morgan, then? But where is Lane? Can I assume Morgan’s found her?”

  I shook my head, and started in on the mission. Finding the jewels, restoring the provinces, and the inevitable overthrowing of Morgan, if that’s what it came to.

  Avril’s jaw was on the floor. “But then how are you here? If you have such a plan, who’s to carry it out, now that you’ve ended yourself in the Forgotten Forest?”

  “Oh, we will. We’re going back just as soon as we find Roland, and Cheval brings the jewels Master Kerdik and Lane gave him to hide.”

  Avril held her forehead in dismay. “Oh, child. That’s not how this place works. Once you’ve entered, you can’t leave here!” Her eyes cut to Bastien in a glare. “How could you let her come to this place? Did you not think to educate her on the rules of the world? I brought my jewel with me here, so Morgan would never get her hands on it. This is truly the only safe place from her clutches.”

  Bastien didn’t bother defending himself, but left that to me. “Cheval promised to take us back. That you’ve still got your jewel? That’s very good news. Is it safe?”

  “Of course it is.” Avril’s face had fallen to piteous disbelief, but then her posture stiffened. “You’re the Compass! And you have a hidden language. I know the animals always flocked to you when you were a baby, but is that your language? You can talk to animals?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” I hoped that didn’t make me too big a freak to remain on her family tree. I jumped when the door on the apartment next to us banged.

  Avril waved off the interruption. “That’ll just be Roland coming back from his hunt.”

  Bastien was completely stiff in his chair, but didn’t move. His eyes shot to me, as if waiting for me to say something. “Um, did you want to go get your friend?”

  “Yes, your majesty. I’ll return shortly.”

  I wouldn’t have believed he was referring to me unless I’d seen the words come out of his perfect lips myself. Before I could comment on it, Bastien was already out the door.

  22

  Spawn of Morgan

  I answered Avril’s questions as best I could, relieved when Bastien came back in several minutes later with a brown-haired dude whom I could only assume was Roland. Bastien’s wide grin at being reunited with his friend melted into polite stoicism when Roland took his chair, and Bastien resumed his post behind me. Like, right behind me.

  Roland gaped at me like I had a chicken laying eggs on my head. “You’re really her? You’re the Lost Princess of Avalon? Morgan’s daughter?”

  I worked up a smile that I hoped shone through my nerves. “That’s the rumor. Hey, man. Good to meet you. Rosie.” I stuck out my hand for him to shake, but he just stared at my offer, like it had offended him.

  “Morgan’s daughter has the nerve to walk in here and shake my hand? Do you even know how your mother destroyed my mother’s land?” He stood from the chair, looking impossibly tall and suddenly forbidding as he puffed out his chest and anchored his fist to the table. His shoulders were broader than Reyn’s, his musculature lean but still forbidding. He was easily six feet tall, and had a clean-shaven, dimpled jaw that looked built for intimidation.

  Avril’s reproof was gentle, but firm. “Now, Roland. Rosalie hasn’t been in Avalon since she was a year old. She knows nothing of her mother’s crimes, so she’ll not be punished by your anger for them.”

  Roland whirled on Bastien. “This? This is who you bring to me? Most of the people here came to escape Morgan, and you bring her daughter right to our doorstep? You know what that witch did to my mother! You know she stole my entire province out from under me. Province 4 doesn’t exist anymore because of her!”

  Bastien looked just as taken aback as I was a
t Roland’s fervent hatred of me. “Roland, Rosie’s never even seen Morgan beyond her first birthday. Morgan’s been after her, too, trying to capture her so she can use Rosie’s Compass ability to find the lost gemstones.”

  Roland spat on my shoe in disgust. His spatter of spit stuck to the toe, but the insult didn’t seem to pacify him. “Pity she wasn’t killed. It would save us all the trouble of having Morgan’s spawn roaming about Avalon.”

  My mouth fell open in horror. If someone had spat on Lane’s shoe, no way would I have just sat there mutely. If anyone had implied that the world should be minus one Judah, they’d have to explain their theory to my fist. I’m not sure if it was because I couldn’t bring myself to speak in my defense, or because I hadn’t been expecting such vitriolic hatred from my cousin, but I found myself without words.

  Avril had plenty. “Roland, you’ll sit down and control your temper. Rosalie had nothing to do with your parents’ death. Heloise and Isengrim were murdered by Morgan le Fae, not her daughter. Punish the criminal, not everyone who’s ever heard of the criminal. Be sensible.”