Lilly IV

by Tiya Rayne

  “Now everyone will believe your tale of tonight. Alright men, let them through.”

  Hugan’s wagon is the first to start moving, then ours pull away.

  “Sir,” Matthias calls back out as we slowly move forward. “Will I meet anymore soldiers up ahead?”

  The lad’s a genius.

  “No, tis only us on this side of the kingdom.”

  “Too, bad. Thanks again!”

  Without the worry of being stopped again, we tear through the forest at a break neck speed. When we’ve traveled far enough away from the soldiers I push the heavy cloth away and sit up from the wagon.

  “Matthias, you are a clever little one.” I rumple his hair as I climb over the back of the wagon to take a seat near him.

  “My pa use to always say that the king’s soldiers are an arrogant bunch.”

  “That was really good work and quick thinking.” Augustus adds.

  Again, Matthias’s face turns red.

  I can tell the moment we cross over the Southern Kingdom’s borders and break away from the magic shield. It feels as if a heavy weight is lifted off of me.

  “Stop the cart.” I say to Randalf.

  Randalf pulls the horse’s rein and the stallion slows to a stop. Hugan’s cart pulls to a stop right next to mine. I hop down and immediately hear Avalia’s panicked voice in my head.

  “Assassin!!! Assassin where are you? What’s going on? Answer me, damn you.”

  “I’m here, my Queen, and we have a problem.”

  I quickly fill her in on what’s going on. I start with my attempt on Rykan’s life, to the imprisonment, the break out and then Lilly’s absence.

  “I will deal with Bartus and that idiot son of his.”

  Her words are laced with anger. I can feel the heat from them inside my head.

  “You find, Lilly. Now!” Avalia demands.

  I use the power of the necklace to pull me towards Lilly’s location. Immediately I encounter a problem.

  “What the hell?”

  “What is it?” Augustus asks from my side.

  “What’s happening?” Avalia queries from my mind.

  Without responding to either of them, I try once again to use the power of the butterfly amulet to locate Lilly. Again it’s as if I get slammed into a wall. I try again, and again, and again, yet the outcome is still the same.

  Without a doubt, I know. “Something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong.”

  My ominous words are the only sound heard in the cutting silence of the darkened woods. They leave everyone to wonder, what has happened to Lilly.

  Chapter Two

  …..9 weeks later.

  My name is girl. I have no family. I am not special and nobody wants me. I work as a servant in Medina’s house, for which I should be thankful for because she saved me from a brutal death. My only value is to provide blood to Medina for her magic.

  Every morning I wake, I lie on my blankets on the kitchen floor and recite those five sentences. I have to remind myself of who I am. My memory is fickle. Flashes of faces and places appear suddenly then blow away like sand in a windstorm. One moment I’m doing my chores and then I’ll have this feeling as if this isn’t me. Like there is something else going on, or that I am someone else. Someone with a purpose, someone that’s loved and wanted.

  Whenever I ask Medina about this, she laughs and tells me it is wishful thinking. She says I was a slave girl that was no longer wanted by my owner. She sought pity on me when she stumbled across some immortal soldiers abusing me in the woods. My question always ends with me thanking her for her kindness. Then I’m forced to do extra chores for bothering her with my vapid thoughts.

  I rub my hand across my swollen belly and smile as the babies seem to fight for position. The only thing I have are these babies inside me. I don’t remember how they came to be, although Medina tells me a story so disgusting that I refuse to believe it. Or maybe I am just as dumb as she always claims I am. She says I should despise the bastards in my belly. That if I could remember the horrible act that brought them here, I would hate them. No matter how many times she tells me the story, I still love my babies.

  “Alright you two, stop fighting in there.” I whisper to my belly.

  I have to keep my voice down. Medina hates it when I bond with the babies.

  Slowly I sit up from my make-shift bed on the floor. My body aches as my stiff neck and back tries to straighten. I pull myself up on my swollen feet and place a hand at my lower back trying to massage away the pain there. It is no use. All my weight is carried out in front of me. I’m not sure, but I think I am far too underweight for this pregnancy. I know that I do not get enough food, sleep, or rest.

  As I do my morning routine of washing my body and brushing my teeth, I stop to take a look in the filthy mirror in the corner of the room. I am disgusted at the sight. Dark circles underline my dull hazel eyes. Thick unruly curls that has not had a good washing in as long as I can remember circle my head like a rat’s nest. My hollow cheeks and prominent bones are a visible reminder of my lack of food. Yet it isn’t just those things that has me turning my head from the sight in front of me, it is the scars. Thousands upon thousands of two inch long scars mar every surface of my body. There is not a place on me that Medina has not used for her magic. Thin dark scars run like road maps against old pale lines. The more recent ones still swollen and red. The girl staring back at me is a sight for sore eyes. I cannot imagine anyone ever finding me attractive. It’s even more surprising that they would find me appeasing enough to leave me pregnant. Maybe Medina is right, maybe her version of how these babies came to be is more accurate. It still doesn’t make me want them any less

  I slip the filthy blue gown on over my body and start my daily chores.

  My day starts before the sun ever sees the sky. The first thing I do is start the fire for today. I carry large armfuls of wood to the small stone fireplace. Once the fire is roaring I take anywhere from 12 to 15 trips to the well just to fill Medina’s morning bath. Once the small tub reaches a certain point, I heat large kettles over the fire for hot water. When her bath is done, I start for the herb garden in the back. On my hands and knees I gather all the herbs and flowers she will need for her magic today. Then, I’m off to the chicken coop to gather eggs for breakfast – a breakfast I will not be allowed to partake in. I use to try to store food for myself. I would sneak and cook extra food and eat it before she woke. But she would always find out and I would end up with a beating. I no longer risk it. Once I have breakfast done, I go to check the cages for animals. Most of Medina’s magic requires blood and animal sacrifices. Every night I go out to the nearby woods and line the traps with bait to capture her prey. And every morning I go to collect her new prisoners. This morning I have captured two large rodents, a jar of insects and a large black snake. I haul my catch back to the small cottage that has become my prison.

  My last job before Medina wakes is cleaning. No matter how many times I clean the small hellhole, it continuously gets dirty. The floors are by far the worse. Mud, blood and guts coat the floor in thick layers that require me to be on my knees scrubbing at the wooden planks. By the time the sun touches the sky, I have had a full day, and I am nowhere near being done.

  “Must you make so much noise in the morning?” Medina’s voice greets me.

  “Sorry, Medina.” I say, as she walks into the kitchen and takes a seat at the table.

  Her silver hazy eyes only glance over at me.

  Every morning she wakes her body resembles that of an elderly woman. Her back curves, her skin looks like crinkled paper and her hair reminds me of a spider’s web. She reminds me of something—a fuzzy appearance of a name pops in my head. The Crypt Keeper. A smile touches my face as a version of the decrepit character comes to memory. It does in fact favor Medina, and then, as quickly as it came, it washes away like all the other memories. I stand there wondering if these brief glimpses are real, or just something I have made up.

 
; “I don’t want your apologies, Girl. I want silence in the morning. You can do your chores without all the noise.” She says irritably, breaking my train of thought.

  I’ve learned it is better to just agree with Medina.

  “Yes, Medina.”

  Without being told, I make my way over to the counter and pull down her usual black bowl. Just the sight of the bowl makes my skin crawl. I place the bowl along with the other ingredients on the table in front of her. Reluctantly, I take a seat at the table.

  “Give me your wrist.”

  She takes out the wooden handle blade that she keeps on her at all times. I place my arm on the table. There is no more space on my arm for her to make a cut, but she doesn’t care. She drags the sharp blade diagonally on my wrist cutting over old scars. I flinch as the blade opens up the skin. My blood is slow to pour out, most likely because of the constant need of it. She uses my blood at least twice a day, sometimes more.

  After mixing together the ingredients of her magic concoction she drinks from the bowl. Once again her youth takes over her. Dark mocha skin glisten with vitality. Jet black hair as straight as an arrow fall to her mid back. Sharp cheek bones and full lips stand out on her flawless face. And as always, those silver eyes are breathtaking. I cannot argue, Medina is a gorgeous woman.

  She admires herself in the mirror. Taking in her beautiful face and healthy figure. Nothing like the skin and bones I am.

  “Don’t just sit there gawking at me, I’m ready for my bath.”

  She never turns away from the mirror as she directs me. As beautiful as I think Medina is, she thinks it even more. I’ve never met anyone so vain—well at least I don’t remember meeting anyone so vain.

  I hurry to the stove and gather the large kettle to pour into the basin for her bath. Hot steamy water rushes to my face and I am struck envious. What I wouldn’t give to submerge in a hot bath. Though I take care to wash on a daily basis, it’s usually standing and using tepid water if not cold water. I place the kettle back in its place and help Medina remove her gown and climb into the tub. I start her bath by washing her hair.

  “That black moss should be ready to harvest today.” She says as I lather the suds into her soft mane. “You should start early since it will take you all day to do it.”

  Black moss is a type of fungus that grows in clumps between thorny bushes. Harvesting them is always an ordeal. I have to walk miles of steep and rocky terrain to get to the place that they grow. I then spend hours crawling through thorny bushes to scrape the itchy black stuff off the side of rocks. The stuff itches worse than the time I had a bad case of poison ivy. My dog Bo and I chased a rabbit into the woods behind mama’s trailer one summer. We both came out all red and itchy…… It happened again. That sense of being someone else. For just a moment I could remember a little girl running with a scrawny black dog through a forest so familiar I could navigate it with my eyes closed. Then the memory slips away and it feels like maybe it was just a story I heard once or a dream.

  My face heats as I think of my dreams.

  My dreams are my only place of peace. They are so vivid and real. Every night I have a dream where I am in some beautiful place. A giant waterfall, a crystal clear pond, or a gorgeous garden with the most beautiful flowers. There is also always someone in my dreams with me, either the two men or the snow haired woman.

  One of the men is large with wide shoulders and muscled arms. He stands at least 6 feet 7 inches with tightly packed muscles that line his entire body. He has short dark hair that is shaved close to his head, his face is angular and a large scar mars one side of his face. The most striking thing about the large man is his different color eyes. One a dark blue and one a pale silver.

  The woman is beautiful with sparkling blue eyes and hair the color of summer clouds. But it is the last man that intrigues me the most. It isn’t just the fact that he is the most gorgeous man that I think I have ever seen, but there is something about him. A pain in his eyes that pulls at something deep inside me. The first man is larger in stature with bulky muscles. His large frame makes him frightening upon first appearance. The second man is slightly shorter with a leaner build. Long sinewy muscles suggest he has a more natural strength. There is something about the second man. Those silver iridescent eyes and that quiet intensity that lies behind them makes him way more dangerous.

  Our first encounter in my dreams he spent the entire dream pounding on an invisible wall trying to reach me. It seems that no matter where I am in the dream an invisible wall surrounds me. At first the dangerous man frightened me the way he frantically tried to reach me. Then I realized his anger was not towards me, but more of the situation. He seemed to be desperate to reach me. Even though the other two reacted the same when they first saw me. It’s like they urgently needed to speak to me or touch me. However, it was the dark haired man who seemed to go beyond just urgent need. He almost seemed as if he craved me, like the distance between us was driving him mad. Of course neither of them ever got to me. I cannot even hear them in my dreams.

  Now, the gorgeous man with the pointed ears, usually spends the entire dream just watching me. Sometimes he laughs as I explore the exotic landscape of my dream with a childlike curiosity. In all his dreams I am greeted by different beautiful sights each time. He seems to take pleasure in making me smile or laugh.

  The female doesn’t come as often as the two men. In fact, she has only been there once or twice. But I can guarantee that every night at least one of the men will greet me in my dreams. I do not tell Medina about my nightly visitors. I have a feeling that if she knew about them she would find some kind of way to stop me from dreaming and I would hate that. My dreams are my only bit of happiness.

  “GIRL!!” Medina shouts, her word is accompanied by a hard smack to my face that sends me to the floor of the small cabin.

  I look up at her with a hand clutched to my cheek.

  “I have called your name repeatedly. If you aren’t even smart enough to pay attention what use are you?”

  I bite my tongue on any kind of retort. We both know that my real use is my blood and she will never get rid of me because she needs me to keep up her beauty. But, saying any of this will only get me hit again and I really don’t want that.

  “Get your lazy self up and help me out of this tub.”

  I stumble to my feet to retrieve the large cloth for drying her. Her slender body steps out of the tub and into the cloth before wrapping it around her.

  “I swear you are as useless as a virgin in a whorehouse.”

  I gather one of the beautiful satin dresses off the racks for Medina. I assist her in putting on the elegant gold dress. Once I’m done, I place her breakfast on the table. Immediately my stomach growls at the sight and smell of the food.

  Medina smiles as she sits down at her plate. She picks up a piece of the seared meat I pulled from the ice box. Most of the meat comes from the rodents that she catches for her magic. She tosses whatever she doesn’t use for her magic to me to skin and harvest the meat.

  After plucking off a smaller piece of meat from her plate she tosses it to the floor and glares up at me.

  “Eat.” She demands pointing to the meat splattered on the floor.

  I have long lost my self-respect. Unless I find some fruit in the woods, this is likely the only chance I’ll get to eat today. And I need to take care of my babies. So even though I would much rather stuff the degrading piece of meat down her throat, I pick it up and place it in my mouth. It isn’t even enough to fit between my fingers but anything is better than the emptiness that is in my stomach right now.

  Medina throws her head back and laugh as I lick the juice off my fingers greedily. She dives in her plate enjoying the breakfast that I slaved over to make her.

  When she finishes her plate she hands the empty dishes to me to wash. Just then, her trusted Familiar flies through the open window in his bird form. He perches himself on the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

  “Good mo
rning, Plinket Darling.” The big black crow just caws in response. “Any news in the woods today?” another caw from the bird.

  I didn’t understand the language the bird spoke, but I assume it was good news to Medina. She tosses her jet black hair over her shoulders.

  “They are so desperate to find their precious Lilly. The entire Locke is in an upheaval over a stupid girl.”

  This has been the talk of the last 9 weeks. A girl name Lilly has gone missing and I assume she is important. Soldiers from every kingdom has been looking for her. Medina is cautious about whenever the soldiers are in her part of the forest. Because she saved me from soldiers she keeps me hidden for my protection. After hearing the horror stories of what they were doing to me when she found me, I never want to run into one again. It is that fear that keeps me more of a prisoner to the witch than the silver cuffs around my wrist.

  “What is so important about the girl?” I ask.

  Medina turns to look at me with a sneer. “Did I give you permission to speak, Girl?”

  “No, Medina.” I respond.

  Sometimes it is hard for me to believe that I’ve been a slave all my life because it really chafes me to submit. I find it hard to not fight against her rules and to step in line. I can’t imagine that if I was born into this role that I wouldn’t be more submissive to it. The only reason I have not fought against her more is that I am too heavy with child. Also because I constantly fear the soldiers in the forest. Not to mention I would never be able to get pass Plinket. That hideous creature is never too far away and he always has his eyes on me.

  Medina makes a tsk sound with her mouth. “You need to gather your tools and get to the other side of the forest for my black moss before it gets too late. I do not want to wait all day for it.”

  “Yes, Medina.”

  I dry my hands on my dress and as I go to turn one of the babies give a powerful kick that sends me bending at the waist. They are getting stronger as they fight for more room. Or, maybe I am just too weak.

  “What? What is it?” Medina is on her feet hovering over me.