by Becky Biggs
Emerald hesitated when they were on the path. “Do you think she’ll recognize me?” she asked. “It might be better if she doesn’t. What if she sends me right back to my parents? Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“Everything will be fine,” Maple assured her. “After all, she refused to change you. She likes you the way you are.”
Emerald nodded, though not entirely convinced. She took a deep breath and started walking to the door. Maple and Porter hung back a bit to let Emerald greet her godmother on her own.
Emerald paused again when she reached the door. If she was going to turn around, now was the time. No! That was weak. If she couldn’t face her godmother, there’s no way she could face the evil king. As she stood there her stomach gave a sharp growl. Her empty belly was voting for her to knock—especially with the heavenly scent of baking bread wafting from the open windows.
Taking a deep breath, Emerald raised her fist to knock. Before she could make contact with the door, however, it swung open and out stepped her godmother.
“Emerald! Oh, my dear, I’ve been waiting for this day for the past seven years,” the woman said, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “Come in. Please come in!”
Emerald’s heart pounded and she considered whether or not she should just turn around. Her godmother seemed pleased to see her, but what would she say when she knew Emerald had run away?
As if she’d read Emerald’s mind, Elyria interrupted her thoughts saying, “Don’t worry, my child. I’m not going to send you back to Medina. You have important things to do! Let’s start by getting you some food.”
Emerald felt a tug on her sleeve and looked down. Maple was standing there grinning up at the two women.
“Maple!” the godmother exclaimed, kneeling and clasping Maple’s hands affectionately in her own. “I’m so happy to see you, my old friend.”
Porter stepped up next to Emerald. He smiled shyly at Elyria who stood to get a good look at him.
“And who is this?” she asked with a curious twinkle in her violet eyes.
“Porter, ma’am,” he said, sticking out his hand. “A friend of Emerald’s. Pleased to meet you.”
“Porter! I hardly recognize you.” Emerald’s godmother ignored his hand and stepped past Emerald to give him a big hug. “I haven’t seen you since you were a child. You’ve grown into quite a handsome young man.” Porter’s face turned a bit red, but he looked happy. After she released Porter, she extended her arms to guide all three friends into the cabin, sniffing a bit as she did so.
“All three of you could use a good scrubbing,” she said.
“You smell like a troll’s den.”
Emerald, Porter, and Maple all laughed at this and Elyria cocked an eyebrow.
“Sounds like you’ve already had some adventures,” she said.
“You can tell me about them over breakfast.”
Elyria gave each of the three travelers a steaming mug of tea before making them scrub in hot tubs of water. She set up a sheet near the fireplace to give each of them a bit of privacy as they bathed. Though she was very hungry, Emerald had to admit she felt much better after she was clean. She sat at a knotty wooden table and nibbled on some fresh, crusty bread while she waited for Maple and Porter to finish their baths. As she snacked, she told her godmother about the trolls.
“Ah, Mavis,” Elyria said fondly after Emerald finished her tale. “Her bark is certainly worse than her bite. She’s a good egg, though.”
Porter and Maple soon joined Emerald and her godmother at the table. Elyria piled their plates full of roast suckling pig, fresh cheese, and juicy strawberries. There was also plenty of fresh bread and butter and icy cold milk to drink. Emerald’s godmother watched contentedly as Emerald and Maple tucked into their hearty meals. Porter just picked at his food, though.
“Porter, is everything okay, darling?” Elyria asked.
“He got hit on the head by one of the trolls,” Maple said through a mouthful.
“Yes,” Porter said. “I have a bit of a headache, but it’s better than it was. I’m just not that hungry right now.”
“Hmm,” said Elyria, but she didn’t push him further. She let the three friends continue eating and it was only as they drained the last drops of milk from their cups and were digging into a fresh apple pie that she broached the subject about their presence.
“I’m assuming, Emerald,” she began, “that your parents don’t know you’re here. Is that correct?”
Emerald nodded guiltily, swallowing a big, sweet chunk of pie and piping up defensively before her godmother could respond. “They were going to force me to marry this horrible prince,” Emerald said, shoving her half-eaten pie away from her. She was prepared to run if she had to. She was not going back to Medina now. “Well, maybe he’s not horrible. But he thought MY kingdom would be his. That he would rule it AND me. I want to make my parents happy, but I don’t want to be miserable.”
Elyria nodded sympathetically.
“He was cute, though,” Maple piped up.
Emerald shot her a dirty look. “You keep saying that,” Emerald complained. “Why don’t you just marry him?”
“Maybe I will.” Maple stuck out her tongue. Realizing she had a bit of crust on her finger, she licked it off while her tongue was still out. “Then I’ll be a princess too.”
Porter cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Aww, don’t worry, Porter,” Maple continued, ignoring Emerald’s glare.
“He’s got no chance with Emerald.”
Elyria glanced at Emerald and Porter, both of whom had turned bright red, and smiled knowingly to herself before changing the subject and saving them from further embarrassment.
“Mothers and daughters have argued about life and love since the beginning of time,” she said. “A mother’s love is so deep it can blind her. She wants what she thinks is best for her daughter at any cost—even if the price is sometimes happiness. Your mother loves you so much, Emerald. I believe she is wrong that you have to change to be a good queen. But I know she is coming from a good place.”
Emerald nodded. “That’s why she wanted you to make me more like her.”
“Your grandmother was very strict with your mother. She didn’t dare step out of line. Your mother tries to go easier on you, but she has a narrow view on what it means to be a princess. When your great-grandmother died, your great-grandfather was devastated. He was determined that none of his female descendants would ever be a warrior again. That worked fine for your grandmother and mother. But you are different. Your story is different.”
Elyria stood and collected a steaming kettle from the fireplace.
“Tea?” she asked, looking at each of her guests. They all nodded. She flicked her wrist and four clean clay mugs appeared on the table. She poured a generous serving of tea in each one.
“Cream and sugar?” she offered, snapping her fingers. A cream and a sugar pot danced from a shelf on the wall to the table. Emerald marveled at her godmother’s skills and Porter’s eyes were as big as saucers. Only Maple seemed unfazed by the magic. Elyria noticed Emerald and Porter’s stares and chuckled.
“Simple magic,” she said modestly. “I don’t use much these days. Not since, well . . .” Her voice trailed off and she looked hard at Emerald for a moment before continuing. “Emerald, dear, I think you coming to me now is fate nudging you in the right direction.”
“What do you mean?” Emerald took a sip of her tea. It was warm and spicy and instantly made her feel relaxed.
“Have you heard about what is happening in Eseland?”
“I told her,” Maple piped up. “She’s going to help save the kingdom.”
“If I can,” Emerald mumbled, staring into her cup.
“I believe you can,” Elyria said. “But you need to know what you are up against.”
Elyria waved her hand again and suddenly the flames in the fireplace began to separate and dance. As Emerald looked closer, she could see them start to form images. Sudde
nly she could see a handsome young elf king, his beautiful nymph wife, and a cute little girl. Next to Emerald, Porter gasped. Once again, Maple was the only one unfazed.
“Fifteen years ago, right about the time you were born, Eseland was a happy place,” Elyria began. Emerald could see the flame images holding hands, spinning in a circle and laughing. “But the king and queen had a terrible secret. Their daughter, Raina, was born without magic. This frightened the king and queen. They were afraid their daughter would be banished like so many other children. So they made a deal with a powerful troll named Harry.”
“Mavis’s son,” Emerald interjected, tearing her eyes from the scene in the flames to look at her godmother in surprise.
“Yes, Mavis’s son,” Elyria responded, taking a sip of her tea.
“He’s a good troll—if a bit misguided. If you save Eseland, you might just save him too.”
No added pressure, Emerald thought apprehensively as Elyria continued the story.
“Harry enchanted a stone that gave Raina magical powers.” The flames shifted again, showing a troll offering a small object to the little child. “He meant well by it. Unfortunately, in the wrong hands the stone was incredibly dangerous.
“A few months after Raina received the stone, strange things started to happen.” The flames flashed angrily and showed scenes of chaos and panic among the magical creatures of Eseland. “Spells went awry. Wands turned up missing. There were reports of wolves and ravens gathering together and running military drills. Rumors spread about an evil power getting ready to attack.”
The flames now showed a frightened crowd of creatures marching into the throne room of an elaborate castle. “The inhabitants of Eseland confronted the king and queen with their fears.” The fire characters took over for Elyria, acting out the story.
“We think it’s Harry—the troll. Ever since you brought him back, so many bad things have happened,” a short gnome cried out. “Just last week he gave my wife a weird look and now she has a wart growing on her nose. A wart!”
There were a few snickers around the room; the wart on the advisor’s wife’s face wasn’t new. It had been growing there for some time.
“Yes, yes,” sighed the king. “We hear all of your concerns, but we still think there has to be a perfectly logical explanation for what is happening. A group of crows is always creepy—it’s called a murder! As for the wolves, prowling is what they do. It probably just looked more organized than it really was.”
“You just don’t want to admit that you could be wrong about the troll . . . um, sire,” piped up a young imp, who swallowed nervously after his outburst. The king sat in shocked silence and his lack of comment fueled the bravery of a few others.
“We should call in the Wise Woman! She’ll know what to do.”
“Absolutely not!” exclaimed the queen, slamming her slender hand down on the edge of her throne, startling everyone in the room. Up to that point she had been silently observing the debate.
“As the king said, there has to be a perfectly good explanation for what is happening.” She added coldly, “Do any of you want to question us further?”
There was a rumble of disgruntled murmurs throughout the room, but no one said anything else. The meeting disbanded and the king and queen retired grumpily to their chambers.
Elyria’s voice broke back in, continuing her narration as the flames continued to morph into new scenes. “A few days later, the first case of a person losing their magic powers was reported. Frightened crowds once again mobbed the throne room, demanding a response.”
“Young Jamie was turning into a talented elf!” shouted an elf woman from the fireplace. “He could make anything grow with a wave of his wand! And he could talk with animals! Now, plants turn brown at his touch and any animal that sees him runs away in fright!”
“Now, now,” the king said. “Do you have proof that he was ever magic in the first place? Let him show us what he can do with plants and animals.”
The boy’s mother looked at the king, confused. “Sire, I just told you, he lost his powers. How can he show you what they used to be if he doesn’t have them anymore?”
The king shook his head sadly. “Then we have no way of knowing if you are telling the truth.”
“But I know him too,” piped up one of Young Jamie’s neighbors.
“He helped me with my garden, he did!”
“I also know him,” cried a young elf girl. She blushed as she continued. “He used to help me talk with my pet rabbit. It was really sweet!”
The queen held up her hand and said, “We don’t know exactly how magic works. Why some are born with it and others aren’t. Maybe it sometimes fades as we age. It may be scary, but we can’t change the way things are. Now, leave us!”
Elyria picked up the narration again. “Once again, the crowd dispersed unhappy and unsettled. They couldn’t understand why the royal couple was turning such a blind eye to what was happening in their kingdom.
“Over the next few days, more and more cases were reported of elves and fairies losing their powers. The king and queen still refused to discuss what was happening with Eseland’s inhabitants. Eventually they barred the way into the castle and banned all but a few select servants and Harry.
“As more and more creatures lost their powers and the castle refused to get involved, the people of the kingdom decided to take matters into their own hands. A committee of two fairies, two elves, and one young imp who had lost his powers was nominated to go visit the Wise Woman.”
“That’s you!” Maple piped up. Emerald jumped. She’d been so absorbed in the story and the apparitions in the fireplace, she’d almost forgotten where she was.
“Yes.” Elyria smiled. She took another thoughtful sip from her teacup and offered more of the hot beverage to Emerald, Porter, and Maple. Emerald gratefully accepted another cup of tea.
“They came here, risking their very lives crossing Ortland,” Elyria said when she was satisfied that everyone had the refreshments they needed. “They begged me for help.”
“Please, Mother, our magic is disappearing. The king and queen won’t help us. You are our last hope,” cried a young fairy from the flames in the fireplace. Her frail shoulders shook as tears ran down her pale face.
“I listened to their tales of disappearing magic,” Elyria continued, “then I promised to go and speak with the king and queen myself.” She turned to the desperate fairy in the flames. “Don’t worry. Whatever is happening, I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
“I followed the villagers to the castle,” Elyria went on.
“When I got there, the guards refused me entrance. I had to use a little, ahem, influence to get in.”
In the fireplace, a miniature version of Elyria waved her wand. With a loud crash, the castle gates flung open. The guards who had been blocking her way landed, stunned, on their bottoms.
“I am going to see the king and the queen,” the pint-sized Elyria said, stashing her wand again and smoothing her wild curls. The guards stared at her, wide-eyed, but did nothing to stop her. She strode through the courtyard, passing beautiful rose gardens and gurgling fountains without so much as a glance. At the end of the courtyard was a grand marble staircase. The mini Elyria seemed to float up them to the massive wooden doors. The doors were barred tight, but Elyria once again brandished her wand and flung them open.
When she stepped inside, the castle was eerily quiet and unusually dark. Obviously not bothered by the ambiance, Elyria strode purposefully to the throne room and shoved open its ornately carved wooden doors. Here, too, it was shadowy and silent.
“Well that’s odd,” murmured miniature Elyria. “Where has everyone gone?”
There was a slight scurrying noise that caused her to turn sharply toward the heavily curtained windows. She pulled out her wand, which illuminated, and pointed it toward one of the deep red curtains, which was still moving gently.
“You there, show yourself!”
The yo
uthful face of a wood imp girl in a maid’s cap timidly peered out.
“Maple, that’s you!” Emerald cried, shocked. She didn’t know why she was so surprised, though. She knew the imp had lived in castles all her life.
“That’s me.” Maple grinned. “I don’t think I’ve aged a day since then.”
Maple’s fire replica spoke. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked. “I shouldn’t be here. Please let me go.”
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you,” Elyria’s fiery likeness responded.
“No, but they might!”
“Who might, dear?” Elyria’s eyebrows shot up.
“I can’t. I’ve said too much.” Maple shook her head and made as if to duck back behind the curtains. Elyria approached her slowly and held out her hand to the shaking imp.
“No one is going to hurt you,” Elyria said softly. “Please at least tell me where the king and queen are.”
The imp raised her arm and pointed up but didn’t speak.
“The tower?” Elyria asked.
The imp maid nodded and then scurried off.
“I climbed up the winding stairs to the tower,” the real Elyria broke in. “Along the way, I didn’t see any other castle staff. When I reached the top, I could hear voices from behind the door to the room at the top.”
“But how are you doing it? I demand to know,” came the voice of the king from the fireplace. The Elyria lookalike was pressed up against the door listening.
“Ah told yah, ah can’t tell yah. It’s too dangerous!” responded a second voice in a deep, gritty tone.
“I don’t care what you told me,” shouted the king. “I want to know how this stone works. How does it take away powers?”
Suddenly, there was the sound of scuffling from behind the door. The miniature Elyria grabbed her wand and threw the door open. She froze at the sight.
