Beautiful Beast

Chapter 13

The horses brush past the row of trees and we enter a glade. In the center, a small hill of grey stone rests in a shaft of golden sunlight. From a crevice on one side, water slides down the stone, then trickles into a little stream. The water sparkles enticingly and it seems to sing, Come, play with me. Follow me and I will show you hidden treasures. Drink of me and you will be refreshed.

Mesmerized, Arawn dismounts and moves toward the water, but before he can reach out to touch it, I say sharply, "Don't. It's poisonous. Never drink the water in the southern quarter."

He pauses, then steps away. "That's what you meant by dangers."

I nod. "Among other things."

He arches a quizzical brow at me. "You have a habit of showing me things rather than telling me. You know, you could have just said the water was poisonous." Or that it was the wolves who killed my brother. His unspoken words ring sharply through the silent forest.

"Magic must be seen and felt, not spoken of. If I were to tell you, it would not have as great an effect and it would be more difficult to understand." I counter, spinning Abraxas's head toward the west.

Arawn mumbles something about being stubborn, but nevertheless, he mounts again and follows.

Now that I have shown Arawn Moira's Fountain, as my father used to call it, he notices the little streams which snake through the forest. If one is paying attention, this network of deceptive streams can be spotted everywhere.

For some time, we twist our way through the south quarter, but when the sun hovers in the center of the sky, I turn in the direction of the palace. At first, this is the most difficult part. The forest does not like that we are navigating our own way; however, it knows me and knows that I belong, so eventually it lets us through.

"I never thought I would be relieved to see these gates," Arawn says as the horses leave behind the last of the trees. "That forest could easily cause a man to go mad."

"The wolves would get him before that happened," I reply stiffly.

Arawn shifts uncomfortably at this. "Why did I find my way through?"

"You didn't. Your intention was to find me, so the forest let you through."

Arawn silently contemplates this as the horses tread toward the stable. They are also happy to be back, and they impatiently bob their heads and chew on their bits. Quietly, we untack and brush the horses. This time, I join Arawn in his menial labours rather than deriding them. Perhaps it is his company or perhaps it is fear that I am allowing the pride of my parents to creep into me.

Once we are finished, we go our separate ways. I first head to my room where I change and eat a light lunch, then I descend to the gardens. As a result of my injured arm, it has been some time since I have visited my roses and the shrubs are in need of care.

Not long after I have begun trimming wild offshoots, I hear the glass door click open and footsteps approach.

"Would you like some help?"

I glance under my arm at Arawn who is placidly standing amidst my roses. What is he thinking? Is he disgusted at my untidy hair and filthy hands? There is dirt beneath my fingernails and wisps of hair curl about my flushed cheeks. But still, he is offering to help.

Magic skitters over my fingers and in the blink of an eye, leather rests gently in my hands. "Here, you will want to wear gloves."

The afternoon rushes by at the speed of wild horses. I coach Arawn through tying and pruning the roses and he catches on quickly. Mostly we work in silence, but a small conversation occasionally drifts between us. This peace is so refreshing and delightful. I revel in it and cling to it as if I have been lost for a thousand years and I am finally finding my way.