"This is Cormak," I say. "Mak, this is Arabelle."
The two shake hands, glancing at each other wearily.
"You know Ettiana?" Mak asks.
Arabelle nods. "Yeah. You?" she asks, surprised.
Mak smiles. "She taught me everything I know about magic."
His fingers wiggle as if to show off said magic, but nothing happens. He can't cast without the aid of a soka.
Arabelle laughs, clearly warming up to Mak. "She taught me everything I know about gardening. She didn't practice much magic once she had this one," she nudges me gently.
I roll my eyes, but find myself relaxing as the two launch into a conversation. I'm glad they get along.
"Do you prefer to go by Mak or Cormak?" Arabelle asks.
The prince shrugs. "Either works. I started going by Mak to blend in here, and it's kind of grown on me."
Arabelle chuckles. "I've wondered about that!" She turns to me. "Is that why you made up that ridiculous fake name?"
I scowl. "Hey!"
She laughs again. "Come on. Mila Wilde. It's not even close to your real name."
"I was twelve," I pout. "I thought it sounded cool."
It's not my fault that my name doesn't have a conveniently built-in nickname. I mean, Amietta? What am I supposed to do with that?
"We should get going," Noelani interrupts after a quick moment. "It's getting dark.
I nod, jumping into the driver's side of the truck. "We need to find somewhere to camp for the night."
One more night in Tsulona, and then we'll be going home.
Everyone gets in the truck. Noelani sits next to me as Arabelle and Mak slide into the back. I fill Arabelle in during the drive.
"So Ettiana didn't teach you anything about magic?" Mak asks as I pull off the road and into a little clearing. This is as good a place as any, I suppose.
"No," I tell Mak. "She didn't even tell me that she was a sorcerer, let alone the fact that I'm a bloodsorcerer."
Mak frowns. "That doesn't seem like her."
I shrug. "I don't know," I say honestly.
I don't care. I'm done wasting energy on the woman.
Sensing my distress, Noelani places a hand on my knee, squeezing gently before unbuckling her seat belt and exiting the truck.
That was odd. That's the second time Noelani has comforted me– or anyone, as far as I know.
My eyes latch onto the spot where her hand just was.
It wasn't unpleasant.
"Mila, you coming?" Arabelle asks.
"Uh, yeah," I mumble, unbuckling my seatbelt and following everyone else out of the truck.
"Arabelle," I call out. She turns to look at me. "Can we talk for a minute?" I ask.
She nods, hanging back while Noelani and Mak go set up camp for the night.
I rip it off like a bandage– never one to beat around the bush.
"When we get to Armenta, I don't want to find Ettiana anymore."
Arabelle frowns. "Mila–"
"I promised Noelani that I would help her overthrow Queen Reina– I'm going to join the rebellion."
"No!" Arabelle exclaims. "You have a responsibility to find your mother, Mila. She's family– you at least owe it to her to let her explain."
My face grows stony. "I don't owe her anything," I bark.
Arabelle looks surprised at my outburst.
I sigh. I don't like fighting with her– it doesn't feel right.
"Look. I know you don't like Noelani– I'm not asking you to join us. I just wanted to let you know."
She nods. "I think you're making a mistake," she says.
"I know." I pause, debating if I should ask my next question. "You could come with us," I suggest.
To my surprise, she doesn't say no right away.
"I need to think about it," she says, eying me skeptically.
I nod, feeling relieved– there's hope, at least. "Okay."
"Mila, just... be careful trusting Noelani," she says softly. "Royals are selfish creatures."
She looks at me and I can tell that she wants to say more, but she doesn't.
"What about Cormak?" I ask. "He's a prince and you get along with him just fine."
Arabelle shakes her head. "That's different. He's spent years on his own in Tsulona. He's no more royal than you or me."
"So did Noelani," I remind her.
Arabelle scoffs. "And she spent her time ruling over Moonwake like a tyrant."
I frown, feeling myself grow defensive. "Noelani cared about the people of Moonwake," I tell her. "When she found out about my powers she could have just trained me to break the seal without any warning, but she prepared the town instead. She jumped through hoops for that corrupt Council– a Council she created in the first place to give the town a better sense of security. How could any of that be considered selfish?"
"She was acting out of guilt," Arabelle argues. "Noelani felt responsible because the town was trapped because of her."
"If it's anyone's fault it's Ettiana's," I snap.
"No, Mila. It's not."
I scowl at Arabelle, but she refuses to meet my gaze. Something tells me that this has to do with the memories she still claims to be missing. Arabelle really hasn't been herself since the seal broke, but until she decides to come clean, there's little I can do about it.
"Okay," I say shortly, leaving it at that. "I'm tired. I'm going to head to bed."
She sighs, revealing to me her own guilt. "Mila–"
"Goodnight, Arabelle."
_____
The next morning, Cormak roots through his bag, pulling out a small square of corta paper. We've already prepared a small breakfast and cleaned up our camping spot, so it's now or never, I guess.
I conjure a needle, mentally preparing myself to prick myself with it. I just had to be a bloodsorcerer. Why couldn't it have been watersorcerer. That sounds much cleaner. And less painful.
"Where should we go?" I ask. I doubt it would be very smart to write "Armenta" on the paper and just hope for the best.
"I'm not sure," Mak says.
"How about Caister?" Arabelle asks.
I frown, not particularly fond of the idea. Caister is my home village, a small merchant town located near the center of Nirasus. It's a good location– close enough to anywhere we'd want to go. However, my family home, Roselak, is located on the outskirts of town. A risk that I'm not willing to take.
If my mother's there...
"I don't think so," I say, looking at Noelani to agree with me.
Arabelle frowns. "I think it's our best bet."
"You're just hoping that Ettiana is there," I retort, angrily.
Noelani shoots me a look. I never speak to Arabelle like this and she knows it.
"I'm sorry," I sigh, apologizing to my friend. I guess the subject is a little more sore than I thought. But why can't Arabelle just agree to give up this stupid quest of hers to find my mother? It's pointless. Why doesn't she see that already?
It's obvious that I'm still a little upset about our conversation last night.
"I actually don't think Caister is a bad idea," Noelani says, earning a glare from me. Arabelle shoots her a bewildered look– it's not often that the two agree on something.
"I doubt Ettiana is still there," Noelani explains, ignoring Arabelle's exasperated sigh. "It's been ten years, and she's probably on the run from my mother."
Right. You don't piss off the queen and just go back to your life of gardening like it's nothing.
"Besides," the princess continues. "You're bound to run into your mother eventually, Mila. Nirasus isn't that big. Word of our return will travel quickly."
I resist the urge to glare. Who's side is she on exactly?
I sigh deeply. "Fine."
"Oh, if she suggests it," Arabelle grumbles under her breath.
"Watch it," Noelani warns in a low voice.
She's been passive aggressive towards Noelani ever since our conversation last night. Clearly, she's still upset too.
I sigh. How is this ever going to work?
Cormak steps forward, an impatient look on his face. "Enough of this. Mila, prepare the corta paper," he orders.
I nod, pricking my finger to spell out the town name. He's right. This is childish. We have better things to do than sit around and bicker. Still, my heart hurts at the state of my relationship with Arabelle. I don't like it, but I know I can't go back on my word with Noelani just because she's upset. I'm dedicated to the cause. I'm doing this because it's what I want to do. I just hoped Arabelle would see that and be okay with it.
It hurts a lot. I'm being forced to choose between Noelani and Arabelle and it's not fair. They're both important to me– I refuse to choose one if it means losing the other. But it feels like my choice has been made for me. Will things with Arabelle ever go back to normal? It doesn't feel like it.
While I'm stuck in my reverie, Noelani conjures each of us the proper attire for our journey. People dress differently in Armenta and it's in our best interest to avoid drawing any extra attention to ourselves. I dress myself in a pair of brown riding trousers and a dark green tunic. Cormak's outfit is similar, but in black and white. Arabelle asks for a skirt, claiming that riding trousers are too restrictive for her.
Noelani dresses last, and I'm shocked when I turn around and come face-to-face with the princess. She wears a pair of dark red riding trousers and a black and white tunic. There's also a black cloak that drapes off her shoulders and falls perfectly to her heels.
It's not her clothes that surprise me, but the fact that she's suddenly a whole head shorter than me. She's wearing a pair of riding boots, just like the rest of us, but unlike her usual choice of heels, they don't add any height whatsoever.
I smirk at her. I could get used to this.
Noelani scowls. "What?" she snaps.
I paint a look of innocence on my face. "Nothing," I say, holding back a chuckle. "It's just that I didn't realize how short you are."
She cranes her head to look at me. I laugh– I can't help it anymore. Deities, she's barely taller than Arabelle. It kind of ruins the picture of the foreboding queen I've already constructed in my mind.
The thought makes me smile.
"Mila," Arabelle says dryly. She glares between the two of us. "The corta paper," she reminds me.
I nod, stifling my grin. "Right." Even Arabelle's disapproval can't chase away my amusement though.
We all join hands and I set the corta paper on the hood of the truck.
"Okay," I say nervously. "Here goes nothing."
I reach out and touch the dried blood. Gross. It's exactly like my vision, though– a sudden stillness and a quiet moment where I feel the magic rush from the paper and into my blood.
It's exhilarating.
All at once we're whisked away into a warm beam of light. Like most magic, I blink and it's over.
My groan joins the chorus of disgruntled grunts from beside me– that light was brutal.
I blink rapidly, clearing my vision as fast as possible.
Immediately, I recognize the familiar worn path and the miles of wild grape vines that curve alongside the yellow, weathered fence. I've spent many summers stealing those grapes, stuffing them in my pockets– and my stomach– until Lady Dremel caught me and chased me away. For a few days, at least. I always came back.
I smile. She hated me.
My heart skips a beat. I can't believe I'm here. Part of me believed that I would never return. I feel the sting of tears prick my eyes.
Despite everything we're going through at the moment, I turn to Arabelle. My mind floods with memories of her in this place with me. My Aunty Arabelle.
She turns to me with a tear stricken face and a sad smile. "Welcome home, Amietta."
I smile back at her through watery eyes. "Welcome home."