by Linda Jordan
Ronan stood in the saddle to stretch as Pinecone trotted down the trail, feeling the horse’s gait jolting the day’s events into some sort of order. He would return to the Witch’s home and ask about Mira. Why had she come alone, except for the child, to find her sister? Why did the quirot carry off her sister?
There were too many unanswered questions. It was possible the outlanders presence would upset the delicate balance and tip things the wrong direction, especially if they stayed with Aste. He needed answers. He must go by the Witch’s home. After his father returned home safely, without finding unicorns hiding in the uplands.
He followed the hunting party’s tracks. Tall rock roses rustled on his right. A gorgeous black unicorn stallion rushed out from behind them and snorted. His sweaty body gleamed in the light. Behind him stood a small herd of mares and a few foals with their tiny, even more valuable horns. Not as many foals as mares and still all black, Ronan thought sadly. Their numbers were shrinking.
Ronan instinctively froze. Pinecone tried to look non-threatening. The unicorn snorted again and pawed at the ground. Pinecone backed up, chewing in submission. Ronan didn’t want to be in the middle of a battle between the two of them, or on the end of a unicorn horn.
A deep rumbling came from the right. Probably, his father’s men. Ronan sent an image of hunters to the unicorn’s mind and asked him to take his herd and flee.
The stallion stood glaring at them for a moment, then tossed his head as if to say, “If I were alone....”
He sighed with relief as the unicorn turned and herded his mares in the opposite direction. They slipped around a massive stone outcrop which would hide their tracks on the rocks. Ronan rode his horse back and forth to confuse the tracks, waiting until his father and the rest arrived.
“I heard you coming. They ran off that direction,” he said.
“Why did you not shoot one?” asked his father, pulling his bow off the shoulder with one hand and an arrow out of the quiver with his other hand.
“And deny my father the first kill?” asked Ronan, grinning.
His father nodded and rode past. The rest followed. Best they not stay in the area long and notice the tracks leading around the rocks. Ewan smiled a sly smile at him. He tracked much better than Ronan.
They rode until dinner, without seeing a sign of the unicorns, then made camp. Ronan hoped the unicorns kept running in the opposite direction.
They built a fire and roasted deer for dinner. Ronan sat off by himself on a rock, chewing a piece of meat and drinking warm ale. One of the men had bought a small cask in one of the villages they passed. The ale tasted good, but bubbly from all the bouncing it received on the ride.
The men celebrated nothing in particular. His father, as usual, told some entertaining story. Ronan hoped the party would extend all night. Perhaps tomorrow they would be ready to go home.
He wondered if Mira found her sister. What had happened to the sister to make her weak enough for the quirot to take her? Quirots normally preyed on small animals.
Ewan sat on the ground next to him. “You seem extraordinarily lost in thought tonight.”
“Hmm,” said Ronan.
“It is the redhead?”
“What makes you think that?” asked Ronan.
“How long have we been brothers?” asked Ewan, drinking ale and pushing curly, blond hair out of his eyes.
“That obvious?”
“Perhaps not to everyone, but I noticed you did not waste time in volunteering to guide her to the Witch’s home.”
“Just being a gentleman,” said Ronan.
“In the midst of trying to lead the others astray? I think not.”
Ronan sat in silence. Ewan was gifted at prying.
“Perhaps the Witch will find she has met her match if this woman bewitched you so easily.”
“It was easy,” said Ronan, smiling.
“Quite,” said Ewan. “And you will probably inquire about her in a day or two?” He raised an eyebrow, and gnawed meat off the bone.
Ronan threw his bones into the fire. Smoke drifted his direction. He wiped his hands on already grimy pants. “I cannot think what else to do.”
“Go talk to the Witch. She is a good woman and may have some advice. What will you do if the child is hers and she already has a partner?”
“If she did, where was he? If I had a woman like that and a child, I would not let them go wandering off into a strange world in search of a sister, facing danger alone,” said Ronan, poking at the fire with a stick. He felt angry at the thought someone might have found the woman before he did and claimed her. He felt unable to relax his shoulders and the tension they carried.
Ronan slept fitfully that night, dreaming of Mira with her long red hair. They laughed and danced together in the fountains of the palace gardens on a summer evening, their clothes drenched. They were not drunk, just giddy. The dream lurched into another and Ronan found himself eye to eye with a white unicorn. Her blue eyes looked deep inside him as she said, “Your father is not pure enough to rule, he will not pass the test. Find another.”
Ronan woke shaking. White unicorns had not been seen alive since the massacre.
Chapter 4 - Nakia
“Fool,” Queen Nakia said, quietly. She would not allow herself to explode. This was more effective. Her Sorcerer shifted uncomfortably back and forth between his shrunken feet. He understood he’d made a massive mistake.
“How could you have been so stupid? You were so concerned with being dramatic that you stole the wrong soul?”
“I have no defense, my Queen,” he said, his voice quavering. “I only wanted to impress you.”
“Well you have impressed me, with your incompetence. I have had men whipped to death for less.”
He stood silent, looking repentant but scared witless, she thought.
Nakia picked up the skirt of her long scarlet, dress, turned and walked towards the window. Her realm lay beneath her. It looked deceptively healthy with the dimming light. Only she knew the extent to which it crumbled. Crops failing, livestock dying from plague and drought, violence in her cities becoming harder to control even with more troops. Various nobles, covertly or actively waiting for her to fall. Signs of rot and decay could be seen everywhere. She did not have the strength to support her world anymore. Nakia touched her forehead. The scarlet sheath covered her horn. What remained of it.
“We must do something quickly,” she said, harshly.
“I do not know what to do, my Queen.”
She turned back to him and glared, “It is almost as if you wanted this plan to fail, Sorcerer.”
“No, my Queen. I did not approve of this plan, as I told you, but I will always do as you ask,” he said.
“Good, because if I thought you lied to me, more than your feet will shrivel.”
He stood staring at her, nodding.
She felt unsure whether to trust him, but there was only one other with his knowledge. “We have little time, we must remove the other girl’s soul. Then you will incorporate both souls into my body.”
He looked astonished. “Even if she was not on guard, even if we could capture her soul, I am not sure that is a wise thing to do.”
“Why?”
“It has never been done, adding more than one soul to a body.”
“They are twins, their souls are already connected.”
“True,” he said, scratching his unruly, dark hair. “But I am not convinced it can be done.”
She turned back to the window and gestured out towards the city. “Do you see an alternative?”
“We could use the soul we have.”
“Not powerful enough to hold this land. You said so yourself. That soul’s window for power has not yet come. I do not have much time before our world vanishes into chaos.”
“Give this one back and take the other one?”
“No, I want them both,” she turned on him venomously. Nakia let the rage flow through her, permeate her entire being. Thi
s pathetic man had no right to deny her. “Your mistake has opened a doorway. Let us take advantage of this opportunity. I need both these souls.”
He took a step back and said, “As you wish, my Queen. What would you have me do?”
“Nothing right now, except prepare what you will need. I will use intimidation first. Then I will tell you where and when to take her soul, she is in my realm now.”
He looked surprised. “Are you sure?”
She laughed. “Oh yes, one of my spies with Roderick, my dear brother, sent a falcon to tell me he saw the girl and a child taken to the Witch, Aste’s home. It seems dear Aste rescued the soulless sister.”
Nakia looked at him intently. Although he tried to mask his emotions, she saw a little twitch in his cheek. She would have to keep an eye on him. “Is there a problem?” she said, sweetly.
“No, my Queen, I am simply surprised. I did not know you had a spy with Roderick.”
“Of course I do. I meant is there a problem with Aste?”
“No, my Queen,” he said looking her in the eye. “That bridge was destroyed long ago.”
“Good, because I would not like to think your loyalties are divided.”
“I know who feeds me, my Queen.”
After he left, she walked though her sleeping chambers to her study. She turned the bookcase and it pivoted, leaving an opening in front and behind it. Nakia entered her secret room. The dark, musty smell of ancient scrolls and books mingled with pungent herbs. Her workroom. Where she sifted through books on dark magic acquired from many worlds and performed experiments. Only the Sorcerer and a few of the pooka guards knew about this place.
Once a servant had discovered it. That servant was given to her special guards, Nakia remembered with a smile. The woman was peeled like an onion, layer after bloody layer, until nothing remained except bones, entrails and her secret.
A small, barred window lit the room dimly, but brighter illumination came from the long table in the center of the room. Underneath a small glass dome glowed a golden ball of light. The soul. It pulsed sporadically, proving it was not strong enough to join with Nakia and through her, to the great Black Opal that powered this land.
Nakia unlaced and removed the scarlet sheath which covered her diminishing horn. Once her horn had been long and unblemished. It had gleamed in a rainbow of colors. She gazed anxiously into the ancient mirror on the wall. These days her horn looked black, as if burnt. It too decayed, like her realm, now it was only as long as the width of her hand. Nakia covered it with a sheath so no one would know. She needed those souls.
She clenched her hands with frustration. If her sorcerer failed there was only one other she could use. That one would have to be forced. The Queen walked to the window and looked out, wrapping her fingers around the bars. She would use whatever means needed to do this. She would not give up her power to anyone.
Chapter 5 - Mira
Mira struggled up the long flight of stairs. The tree trunk was so massive it had to be at least twenty feet across. It was an evergreen, like a cedar or fir, but she couldn’t identify which kind. The Witch’s home sat way up in the middle of the grand tree. Very little light flowed in through the dense branches. Mira climbed the spiral stairs which swayed slightly with each step, but she didn’t have any free hands to hold on with. Once or twice she caught herself holding her breath, closing her eyes and whispering, “Help me Goddess.” Then she continued climbing.
Dylan was heavier asleep than awake and she felt out of breath from the climb. Standing at the top of the stairs, panting; she studied what lay around her.
The tree dripped with a luminescent yellow-green moss which lit the stairway. She heard something scampering through the branches. A pair of shining, yellow eyes moved across tree limbs, then disappeared. Mira didn’t want to know what the eyes belonged to.
The Witch’s house wrapped around the upper tree trunk and rested on several large branches, stabilized by vines hanging from the limbs above. It was built of logs with a thatched roof. The house looked smaller up here than from below. A shaft of purplish light streamed through the branches and lit the door. The effect was masterful.
She took a deep breath, mustered all her confidence and knocked on the door.
“Hello,” she announced.
Mira waited. The closer she had gotten to the tree, the more intensely she felt watched. After a few anxious minutes the door opened. A smallish, old woman with her long, gray hair tied back and wearing a long, purple velvet robe stood in the doorway.
The old woman seized them with her gaze. The Witch was obviously used to intimidating the locals. “What do you want?” she asked, with a tone which set Mira on edge. Dylan startled in her arms, instantly awake.
“You have my sister, I believe.”
“Do I?” the Witch asked, cocking her head.
“Yes, I don’t know how you got her, but I want her back.” Mira said.
“Careless of you to lose her.”
“I didn’t lose her. Amanda was attacked and kidnapped.”
The old woman paused for a moment and as Mira caught what looked like a gleam of amusement in her eyes, she clenched her teeth.
The Witch said, “Come in.”
Mira followed the woman into the low ceilinged room. She walked further inside before realizing the ceiling was normal height, but hung with every type of dried herb, flower and root imaginable. Some of the longer plants brushed her head. The house looked dark inside despite several windows and an oil lamp. A very inviting fireplace stood at one end and she felt curious about how it was vented, so it didn’t burn the tree. She wondered at the irony of burning wood to keep warm while living in a tree house.
A huge table covered with fresh herbs and food, and surrounded by benches sat in the center of the room. This woman was a Healer. The place reminded her of Aunt Rita’s house, which she’d called home for the past six years. Herbs and small glass jars filled nearly every space not used for living. Near the fireplace sat a small bed. On it lay Amanda, covered with a quilt.
Amanda’s eyes were closed and even though she slept, Mira could see regular breathing. Mira felt relieved to see her twin alive, although very pale.
“Mom,” cried Dylan, trying to wiggle out of her arms.
“Quiet,” whispered the Witch. “She’s sleeping. The poor girl is seriously depleted. I gave her some tea and bread but she needs rest.”
“How did you find her?” Mira asked, putting Dylan on the floor.
“She was at the stream. I frightened off the quirot who caught her.”
“What did it want with her?”
“Your sister was probably going to be dinner. Quirots will prey on humans who are helpless, but they usually eat smaller fare.” The Witch glanced away.
She sensed the Witch was not telling her everything. Some sort of falsehood hung in the air.
Mira sank down on the chair next to the bed, exhausted. Her empty belly rumbled. Dylan must be even hungrier. He stood on the floor next to Amanda’s head, stroking her hair and crying quietly. His life revolved around his mom. Not Grandma or Grandpa, with whom Dylan and Amanda lived. His dad was a complete no show. Dylan hardly knew Mira, because she had lived in Seattle his whole life. She was just the silly Auntie who cruised in and out of his world.
Mira didn’t know what to do. Could she trust this woman? Deception ran rampant through this house, but she couldn’t tell what was lies or truth. Rage at what happened to Amanda bubbled to the surface. Dislike for this woman followed. Frustration and confusion about what to do next roiled around in her mind. She visualized a green balloon sucking up all her turbulent emotions, then tied a knot in it. She needed to focus.
“Will Amanda recover?” Mira asked the old woman who stared at her.
“It’s difficult to say. Her soul has been stolen. Amanda could survive without it although she would not be the sister you remember. Her chances will be better if her soul is returned.” The Witch’s eyebrows wrinkled togethe
r in disapproval and she shook her head.
“I don’t understand any of this. How can a soul be stolen and your body still live?” Mira asked.
“Aaah, you live in a different world than this one,” said the old woman, as she added more wood to the fire. “When I say her soul was stolen I’m describing a magical process. In your world you would describe it as missing a chakra, I think. It is the part of us that continues on after we die, your energetic being. Your sister’s ability to love and feel compassion was stolen from her as well as her potential for carrying power. What remains is a psychic black hole in her belly,” she said pointing to just below Amanda’s belly button.
She remembered seeing the emptiness there when Amanda’s soul was first stolen. She shuddered at the memory of the dogs attacking Amanda and ripping something golden out of her belly. “But I saw those black dogs rip her up.”
“Was there any blood?”
“No.”
“What you saw was powerful, dark magic. Tell me exactly what happened.”
Mira recounted the horrible morning. Then she closed her eyes, put her head in her hands and said, “I’m afraid.”
“You should be afraid,” said the old woman, stirring a pot on the hearth.
“I’ll be honest with you. We need help. I don’t know what to do next. I don’t know where we are. You said we’re from a different world. I didn’t even know there were other worlds.”
“There are many other worlds. I only know a few. Only a handful of people in this land realize that other realms exist.” She tore fresh basil, dropping the fragrant pieces into the pot on the hearth and added more water. “So Roderick and his men are out hunting again. That doesn’t surprise me,” she snorted. “I wouldn’t have thought it of Ronan, though.”
