Their troop made enough noise that Ailsa couldn’t see many of the creatures that must live here other than the birds and squirrels that flitted from tree to tree, scolding them. Periodically, the trail crossed on stone bridges over deep ravines cut into the mountainside, not unlike the ravines that cut across the Far Terran plateau. Water ran down the bottom of the canyons in swift-moving streams. So much running water was a wonder in its own right—and in the middle of summer, too.
With her senses open to the forest around her, Ailsa felt something ahead. To the forest, it felt like an open wound. She pulled Diamond to a stop. “What’s that?”
Jathan seemed to understand what she meant, even though the others were confused. The crease between his eyes deepened. “I don’t know. It feels . . . wrong.”
“What are you two talking about?” Rishiart asked.
Ailsa shook her head.
Jathan paused as if trying to formulate an explanation for something he didn’t fully understand himself. “We’re green mages, Rish. We can . . . feel the trees, even without really trying to. It’s . . . it’s like smelling the pines. You’re aware of the scent even if you’re not paying attention to it. Something up ahead . . . feels different. Wrong. Like . . . like a wound.”
Rishiart replied with a grunt.
“Well, let’s go see,” Arrigo said and spurred his horse forward.
The others followed, with Jathan and Ailsa lagging behind. Ailsa was half afraid of what they might find and from his expression she thought Jathan was, too.
They stopped at the edge of the next ravine. The landscape before them was a blackened, burned over ruin. Black spikes stood out at intervals—all that remained of the majestic trees that had once stood here. Only the little brook still ran at the bottom of the cut. Everything else was still and lifeless. The sight made Ailsa’s stomach clench.
“Forest fire,” Artair said. “Probably a lightning strike.”
“Or a poorly managed campfire,” Arrigo added.
Rishiart looked up and down the ravine. “Probably started below. This canyon would act as a chimney, drawing it up.”
Arrigo nodded. “Lucky it didn’t spread beyond the canyon.”
“What are those men doing?” Mayra asked, pointing down slope to where several men seemed to be building a stone wall. A small collection of houses could be seen just beyond.
“Building a dike,” Artair answered. “When the rains come, all of this,” his gesture took in the barren soil of the whole canyon, “is going to be washed down onto the village below without something to hold the mud back.”
Rishiart shook his head, taking in the volume of soil in the ravine. “That dike isn’t going to be enough. We should evacuate the village.”
Jathan threw his reins to Rishiart. “It doesn’t have to be that way.” He walked toward the edge of the ravine.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Artair asked.
“I’m a green mage. A pretty powerful one. And there are seeds out there—fireweed, grasses, even sumac, manzanita, and pine. If I can get them started, their roots will hold the soil against the rains.”
“You’re not even half trained, yet,” Artair said.
Jathan turned on him. “I’m a Prince of Terranion, if only by adoption, and a green mage. Those are our people, our responsibility, and they have a serious problem. Are you telling me that I shouldn’t at least try to do what I can to help them?”
Artair blinked. “No, of course not.”
Ailsa turned Diamond toward the bridge.
“Where are you going?” Arrigo asked, exasperated.
Ailsa looked at Jathan as she answered. “You can’t span that whole distance by yourself. I’m a green mage, too. As powerful as you. Two of us can do more than either of us alone.”
Jathan nodded. “We don’t need to pull the plants too far out of the ground. It’s the roots we want.”
Ailsa made a face. “I know that.” She allowed Diamond to pick his way across the stone bridge at his own pace, but it proved stable enough. When she reached the far side, she dismounted and threw Diamond’s reins over a nearby branch. Then she picked her way to the edge of the ravine until she stood opposite Jathan. With a nod, they both raised their hands and called to their magic. With the dense forest behind her to draw on, Ailsa felt the magic surge to greater levels than she’d ever experienced before. The sheer power of it made her feel as if she’d been lifted off her feet. It sang in her blood like riding Diamond running full out. She held that magic for just an instant, tasting the euphoria of it, before sending it out across the chasm to waken the seeds and start them sprouting.
The exhilaration of the magic diminished only slightly as she pushed the power out across the ravine. Then it met Jathan’s magic coming from the other side and built to a new and intoxicating high. She’d worked green magic beside Jathan before, even while he was also working green magic. She’d never worked green magic with him ‘til now. This was so much more exciting than making a rose seedling grow and bloom.
The electricity of that single, brief kiss was nothing to it. The magic tingled across all of her skin like a caress. More than that, much more, in some sense his magic was Jathan. She felt she knew him, knew his heart, in a way she’d never come close to knowing anyone else. It was like she’d known him forever. She grinned across at Jathan and caught his answering wink. Of course he’d wink. That was so Jathan.
When a green fuzz covered the barren soil, they both began moving down slope, calling to more seeds as they went. This was tricky because there was no clear path. In fact, the sides of the ravine were choked with waist-high manzanita bushes and scattered rocks from boulders to pebbles. She looked up when Jathan’s magic faltered. He’d slipped on loose rocks, but one of his brothers—Rishiart, she thought, though at this distance they looked interchangeable—steadied him. Ailsa was dimly aware that another of the princes was shadowing her. That was good, because she couldn’t take her concentration from her magic to worry about her footing.
Ailsa slipped twice and was caught both times before she reached the half-built wall across the ravine. She leaned against it, trying to catch both her breath and her balance. She hadn’t been this dizzy even after dancing all night at the Solstice Ball. Jathan approached her, leaning heavily on the wall as he came, and they both started giggling as if they’d had too much to drink.
“That was unbelievable,” Jathan said. “The magic has never felt like that before. I actually think I’m more drunk on it than I’ve ever been on wine.”
Ailsa could only nod, holding her sides as she gasped for breath. The giggling fit had stolen what little breath she had left.
Jathan’s brothers gathered around them.
“I’ve told the villagers to see that this slope gets some water until the rains come,” Artair said. “They wanted to thank you both in person, but I told them you needed to rest. Now, let’s see if we can get you two back up to where we left the horses.” He looked up the slope. “Fortunately, the lodge is not much farther, now.”
Somehow, the three other princes managed to pull or push Ailsa and Jathan up the slope. Ailsa remembered little of the rest of the ride, lost in the fog of fatigue and the lingering elation of the magic.
~
Ailsa paced around her room. The energy that charged her now had nothing to do with magic—or, well, not directly, anyway. It was all conflicting emotions and the need, finally, to come to some resolution. This afternoon had proven one thing to her without doubt. There was no way she could even consider renouncing her magic. Not even for Sav. She couldn’t even pretend that any longer.
This wasn’t growing radishes or rose bushes. This was real work that made a difference in people’s lives and even when the euphoria faded, that felt good. Satisfying. Fulfilling in a way that far outlasted the thrill of the magic.
So where did that leave her and Sav? After talking to the emperor, it was hard to feel optimistic about Grandmama’s ideas for changing the
way Far Terrans thought of mages and political power. It had all sounded so good—almost inevitable—when Grandmama laid out the possibilities, but there were hard political concerns that she hadn’t taken into account.
Besides that, even the possibility was years—maybe decades—away. Sav, with the best of intentions, couldn’t begin to do anything about the barons against his own father’s wishes. And there was no doubt at all where King Ewart stood on the issue. If only she could talk to Sav about all of this. How else could she know if he was even willing to try?
She stopped in her circuit of the room. She needed to get out, to breathe fresher air, to walk among growing things. That always helped clear her head and let her think better. Ailsa looked out the window and sighed. It was dark out—dark as it could only be far away from any city or town. No street lights, not even any light from any of the other windows on this side of the lodge. Only the stars and a tiny sliver of moon. It must be even later than she thought.
Ailsa spun as the side door opened behind her—the one that connected to Mayra’s room.
“I heard you moving around,” Mayra said. “Is everything all right?”
Ailsa shrugged irritably. “I’m just restless.” She let out a sigh. “I thought about going for a walk in the garden, but it’s too late. I wouldn’t want to disturb anyone.”
Mayra cocked her head to one side, studying Ailsa. “It’s not that late. The boys are up playing battle chess in the main room. They invented that themselves years ago. The board’s twice the size of a regular chess board and there are four players, white and black, plus red and blue. Although I overheard Jathan arguing that his blue pieces really needed to be painted green, now. I think Mother and Father are there, too, reading. Thing is, the lodge doesn’t have a garden as such. Not like at home. There’s a little vegetable garden out back, but that’s not very interesting.” She bit her lip. “There are trails into the nearby forest. Most are too long or not safe to walk at night—too steep or rocky, mostly. But there is the promenade. Father had that built for his first empress when she was pregnant with Artair. It’s boardwalk all the way around, nice and level, and it doesn’t go far. I could show you, if you like.”
Ailsa looked around the room, which she’d been pacing like a caged desert cat. “If it won’t be a bother to you—or to anyone else.”
Mayra smiled. “No bother.”
She linked her arm through Ailsa’s and led her toward a door at the back of the lodge. A guard snapped to attention as they exited.
“We’re just going for a turn around the promenade before bed,” Mayra told him as they passed.
The guard nodded gravely.
Mayra leaned closer to Ailsa and whispered, “They get really twitchy if you don’t tell them where you’re going. But they aren’t allowed to stop us unless we’re going to do something dangerous—that’s mostly for my brothers, though. And the promenade hasn’t been considered too dangerous since I was old enough to be allowed out on my own.”
Mayra pulled on Ailsa’s arm to direct her to the left. “The promenade’s this way. You’ll like it, even in the dark, though I’ll have to bring you out here again in the daytime. It loops around some of the biggest and oldest trees in this part of the forest.” Mayra tripped on a rock and nearly stumbled.
Ailsa caught her. “Wait a moment.” She silently cursed herself for not thinking of this before. She’d practiced it often enough in Practical Basics of Magic. Disengaging her arm from Mayra’s, Ailsa pressed her hands together as if she were molding a ball. A green light began to filter through her fingers and grew brighter as she compressed it. When it was about the size of her fist, Ailsa dropped the glowing ball to hover just above their feet, where it lit their path, but little else.
Mayra laughed and clapped her hands together. “I hope I prove to have magic so I can learn to do that.”
“It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have brought you out here in the dark.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I often get restless and take night-time walks when my brothers get to be too much. One by one, they’re not so bad, but all together . . .” Mayra gave a mock shudder.
“Oh, this has nothing to do with your brothers,” Ailsa said.
Mayra cocked her head to the side again, considering Ailsa. “Well, you were certainly upset about something.”
Ailsa stepped up onto the promised boardwalk. “It’s just that I realized today that there’s no way I could ever give up my magic. I’d known it before, of course. But today just made it real for me.”
“Well, of course not. Why would you even think of such a thing?”
Ailsa trailed her free hand across a bush that stood close by. One of the furled buds opened into a bright white flower as she touched it. She bit her lip. She hadn’t even meant to do that. The magic had just . . . leaked out.
“Ailsa?”
“Before I left home to come to the Institute, a young man asked me to marry him. I told him I had to find out what I could do first.”
Mayra shrugged. “I still don’t see the problem. Lots of mages are married. Most of them, in fact.”
“Things are different in Far Terra. Most of the barons don’t trust mages and King Ewart certainly doesn’t.”
“So?”
Ailsa drew a deep breath. “So, the young man in question is Crown Prince Savyon. And I don’t think he can marry a mage, even if he wants to. The only reason his father is king is because mine had to abdicate after he married my mother. Because she’s a mage. To stand against the barons and his father—” Ailsa shook her head.
A crease appeared in Mayra’s brow and her voice dropped lower. “Do you love him that much?”
Ailsa blinked and stopped, staring at one of the huge trees without seeing it. Did she? She loved Sav, certainly, but . . . that much? In that way? She didn’t dream about Sav any more—hadn’t for a month or more. Recently, there’d been whole days when she never even thought of him. Twice, she’d nearly forgotten to write the promised weekly letter to him. And yet, when she’d kissed him . . . She let her breath out in a long sigh. “I don’t know, Mayra. I don’t really have anything to compare my feelings for Sav to. No one else has ever . . . because of my father, none of the barons’ sons will even dance with me, usually, except for Sav and my cousin Perion, when his mother forces him to, and occasionally Prince Cergio.”
Mayra smiled slyly. “Well, then. Maybe we should see that you meet a few more young men, so you can figure it out.”
Ailsa allowed Mayra to pull her on down the walk. “That doesn’t seem very fair to Sav.”
Mayra snorted. “Fair? How fair was it of him to ask you something like that right before you were set to leave, before you even knew what you’d be giving up? Without giving you enough time to really think about it? If there’s one thing I’ve learned from watching Artair and Rishiart it’s never to let a boy hustle you into any decision. It’s never your best interests they have in mind.
“There are more balls coming up after we get back. I’ll make sure my brothers introduce you to some of their friends. I bet you or Jathan know a few possibilities from the Institute and the Academy, too.”
Ailsa shook her head. “It won’t matter. No one else has ever been interested in me that way. No one else ever will. Not for long, anyway.”
Mayra patted her hand. “Not everyone comes from Far Terra.”
Ailsa turned to Mayra. “No, but they’d have to deal with Far Terra and all its problems if I’m going to use my magic to help my homeland. It comes to the same thing. It’s impossible. It was always impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible. Not if you set your mind to it.”
Ailsa walked in silence for a moment. Nothing was impossible? Well, that might be a bit optimistic. But . . . it was surely true that the most impossible thing was the one you never attempted. That was the one thing that guaranteed failure. She couldn’t do anything really about Sav. Not right now. When she got back to Grandmama’s house, she could
try to compose a message, open up a dialog. But half of that possibility had to be his choice. The only thing she could really do anything about right now was becoming the very best green mage she could be. And then see what things that made possible. If it felt anything at all like today, that couldn’t be a bad thing.
She jerked her chin up and stepped out a little faster.
Chapter 16: The Ring Mountains
The next day all of them—the four princes, Mayra, and Ailsa—set out early to explore the surrounding mountains on horseback, followed by their guards. The princes knew the area well, of course. And Mayra knew quite a few of the trails, too. It was all new to Ailsa.
They rode through a mixed forest of pines and oaks with lush undergrowth. It wasn’t nearly as ancient as the forest they’d ridden through the day before, but the mix of oak and pine had a charm and wildlife of its own. Ailsa noticed that squirrels and deer were more frequent here and there were more different kinds of birds flitting around the branches. The varied forests of the Ring Mountains were endlessly fascinating, but they also made Ailsa aware of how young and relatively poor the Far Terran forests were.
As the sun climbed to midday and past, Ailsa began to eye the bags that hung from the saddle horns of the princes. The trail passed through a beautiful little glade with a small stream running and gurgling through it and deep, thick grass cushioning the ground. It was the perfect place for a picnic. “Why don’t we stop here?”
“Not quite yet,” Jathan said. “There’s something I want you to see. It’s not far now.”
“What is it?”
Jathan winked at her. “You’ll see.”
Ailsa looked across at Mayra, riding beside her, but the other girl just shrugged. Ailsa’s stomach rumbled and she was just about ready to speak up again when the princes in the lead stopped. Ailsa and Mayra rode up beside them.
Below them, the land fell away in a perfect bowl. The exact center of the bowl was a crystal-blue lake, surrounded by a dense pine forest. It was a striking vista. Ailsa stood and just stared at it as the older princes dismounted and found a spot under the shade of an old oak to set up lunch.
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