KALISTA
The slanted handwritten text blurs before my eyes and I drag a hand across my face. It has been a long day of flipping through one spell book after the other with little fruit. The only nugget I found is from a questionable source, so I am hardly convinced to make an effort. It explains that to weaken or break a curse, one must gather each factor of the curse and destroy them with fire. No, this is not helpful. I must find a way to manipulate the curse so that I can tell Arawn what he must do.
"My l-lady. M-my lady."
I look up at the sound of Cedric's stuttering and see his pocket watch bobbing excitedly in the air.
"What is it, Cedric?" I sigh, pushing back loose curls that hover about my face.
"S-sir Arawn's h-horse has returned. With-without him."
"What do you mean without him?"
"It is alone. He is nowhere to be found."
Nowhere to be found? Did he leave? Did something happen to him? Not the wolves, since it is not dusk. Yet.
"I have the mirror," Pierre exclaims, rushing into the library. "Here, ask it to show him to you."
I take the hand mirror from the invisible servant and hold it before me. "Show me Arawn." The glass clouds over, then reveals a figure stumbling between the golden trees of the western quarter. He holds his right arm protectively against himself and dried blood stains his forehead.
Hastily, I drop the mirror on the desk and rush from the room. My feet hardly touch the steps as I fly down the staircase. I am racing against the sinking sun and the odds are not in my favour. In response to my frantic heartbeat, magic sparks across my fingers, but it will be of little use to me until I reach Arawn.
Johnathan and Matthew already have Abraxas saddled and ignoring my impractical dress, I slide one slippered foot into a stirrup and swing the other over the saddle. Reaching down, I take hold of Hector's reins. He tugs on them at first, unwilling to follow me, as if something has frightened him and he is afraid to face it. But I do not tolerate his petty fear and with a word of command, I tug on the reins. He obeys reluctantly and, squeezing Abraxas's sides, I set off toward the forest.
Once I have entered the trees, I am forced to slow my pace. The pathways are too narrow and the ground too uneven for hasty travelling. Around me, the golden leaves sparkle in the light of the dying sun and warn me of impending doom. Soon the wolves will be out. And soon Arawn will be lost to me forever.
Where is he?
He must be here somewhere.
"Arawn?" I call, but my voice is instantly swallowed by the forest. Magic. And it is not mine. My heartbeat flutters in panic, but I take a deep, calming breath. She will not better me in this. I am stronger now. My magic comes eagerly, spinning in sparks through the air. I call his name again and this time it resonates through the trees. It twists about the foliage and like a hand, reaches for what is lost. I can feel the resistance and there is an attempt to quench my call. However, in this place that is mine, this forest where I have spent years of my life, it cannot best me. Here, I am stronger than her.
"Kalista?"
My breath catches at the sound of his voice and I urge Abraxas toward it. "Arawn," I shout again, needing him to respond so that his voice will lead me to him.
"Kalista," he calls back. It is closer this time and I urge the horses into a near reckless pace. We push through a thicket and onto a pathway and suddenly there he is, hobbling unsteadily toward us. I pull the horses to a stop and leap from the saddle. Before I know what I am doing, I rush to him and wrap him in an embrace. It lasts only a moment, then reality surges in a threatening stream.
I pull back and glance over him, taking in the blood upon his forehead and the way his right arm hangs loosely at his side. "You idiot. What were you thinking? How did this happen? You should never have gone out alone."
He grins at me a handsome, lopsided grin. "Hello, Kalista."
"Hello, Kalista?" I screech. "Is that all you have to say? Come on." I tug on his good arm. "We need to get back to the palace before the sun sets."
We pause at Hector's side. "Can you mount?"
He nods, "I think so." He grabs the saddle with his left hand and puts a foot in the stirrup. Then with a grunt, he lifts himself up into the saddle.
I also mount and we set off toward the palace. At least we try. It is like the trees close in around us, attempting to trap us within. Is it the trees? Or is it a puppeteer manipulating them? I would wager it is the latter. Again, my magic sparks before me like a thousand twinkling fireflies. At this outburst, the forest remembers who is master here and despite the strings, it bends back. Unsure of how long this will last, I urge Abraxas to move faster. This pace is likely misery for Arawn, but if we do not reach the palace in time...
A branch grabs at me and catches in my hair. I am moving too quickly to take the time to untangle it and it pulls cruelly for a moment before the twigs snap. As it does, there is suddenly another in front of my face and it catches my cheek. I pay it no heed and glance back at Arawn. His expression is twisted in agony, but besides his previous injuries, he seems unscathed.
Close. We are so close.
Between the trees, I catch glimpses of the white pebble drive. In a final effort, the trees attempt to close us in, but the glittering sparks of my magic race before us and forge a path through the tangle of spindly limbs.
For a breath, victory echoes through me. Then a wolf howls.
Despite Arawn's arm, we push the horses into a canter and my magic that opened the forest for us now closes it tightly behind us. It will not keep them at bay forever, but perhaps it will detain them. As we near the palace entrance, we slow, and I jump off of Abraxas's back and hurry to Arawn. He swings his right leg over Hector's neck and carefully slides from the saddle.
"M'lady, we'll take the horses," comes Johnathan's voice.
"Thank you," I say, and the invisible servants lead the horses away.
In the corner of my eye, I see dark shapes emerging from the forest and slink across the meadow. I slip an arm around Arawn's torso and despite his protests, he leans some of his weight on me. Together, we hobble up the steps and to the great doors. With a flick of my hand, they swing open and we stumble across the threshold. Once inside, I quickly spin about, push the doors closed, and lower the bar across them.
There is a moment of quiet during which I think my pounding heart is the loudest thing in the room, but a wolf howls just outside the door, and Arawn and I scramble away. We stare fixated at the great oak doors, waiting for them to crack and for the wolves to burst through.
"My lady?"
I start in surprise and spin around. A pocket watch dangles daintily in the air and beside it, a golden candelabra casts yellow light upon the marble floor. Cedric and Pierre.
"We need bandages and warm water and tea and some food." I move to Arawn's side and once more slip an arm around his torso. "Oh, and some brandy. Please." The alcohol will help with the pain and nerves.
Slowly, we trek up the staircase and through the halls. By the time we reach Arawn's rooms, we are both sweating and out of breath. Since Arawn's arrival, I have never entered his rooms and although I confidently help Arawn over to his bed, a part of me is nervous. What will I see here?
With a groan, Arawn falls back against the pillows and closes his eyes. He is not sleeping, he is just resting and willing his energy to return, but I take the moment to glance about his chambers. They are mostly tidy except for a stack of books on a low table beside the settee, the violin from the music room positioned upon his writing desk, and a short sword leaning against a tapestry chair. I have seen that sword before.... Yes. It was part of a display in honour of great-uncle Rowan, one of the few sorcerers who used steel as well as magic to conquer his foe. Of course Arawn would take it.
"Kalista?"
Arawn draws my eyes back to him.
"You have to reduce my shoulder. I don't think I can do it myself."
He wants me to relocate his shoulder. I am not a healer; I have no idea what I am doing when it comes to injuries.
He must see the angst on my face. "I will guide you through it. Don't worry, it isn't hard."
"But it will hurt. And what if I do it wrong? It will hurt even more." I protest, nervously wringing my hands together.
"I will be in more pain if you don't do it," he queries. "Come, it will be over in two minutes."
Reluctantly I step over to him and despite the pain, he gives me a wide smile. Oh, great heavens, what does he see? I am likely a frightful mess after tearing through the forest.
"Put this hand here." With his good hand, he reaches over, takes hold of my right hand, and places it upon his inner elbow. I flinch just a little. The warmth of his touch takes me off guard and also frightens me a little. Yet, at the same time, I want him to continue holding my hand. I have forgotten how comforting it is to be touched by another human.
"And this hand here." Arawn takes my left hand and places it in his left palm. "To reduce the shoulder, you need to lift the forearm, then bring it down to the left. It's that simple. Just don't do it too slowly." He grins at me again and something inside me flutters.
Afraid that it shows on my expression, I lift his forearm just as he had instructed.
"Good. Now on the count of three, start to bring the arm down. Alright?"
I nod and clench my jaw. This is what Arawn needs me to do, so I will do it.
"One. T..."
I bring his arm down and a pop rudely interrupts his counting.
He cries out in pain and punches the mattress with his good hand. "I told you on three."
"Your muscles were becoming tense. It would have hurt more if I waited."
He exhales with annoyance but doesn't argue.
"My lady, here are the bandages, towels, and warm water," Pierre says, sliding the items onto the bedside table.
Suddenly realizing that I am still holding Arawn's hand, I quickly release it and busy myself with the things Pierre brought. "Thank you." I dip a towel into the warm water. "And the brandy?"
"Uh... I... Cedric will bring it up p-presently," Pierre replies hurriedly and leaves the room.
Strange. Cedric is the one who stutters. Not Pierre.
"I thought you didn't know anything about healing?" Arawn asks as I gently dab at the wound upon his forehead.
"Well, not really. But it is common sense that a wound should be cleaned," I reply in what I hope is a matter-of-fact tone of voice. From this close, I can see the gold flecks in his eyes. Beautiful. My fingers itch to hold a brush so that I might capture these colours.
For a second time, I dip the cloth into the warm water and apply it to Arawn's forehead. His skin is now relatively clean, revealing a red bump that will likely colour nicely.
I narrow my eyes at it. "Does it hurt badly?"
Arawn shrugs with one shoulder. "No, it's not bad. I'll survive."
"Maybe we should put something on it." I fold the cloth and hang it upon the basin.
"Are you worried?"
I glance up at him, then down again. "Yes... No, I'm sure you'll be fine." Uninterested in continuing this conversation, I ask, "So how did this happen anyway?"
He grimaces and shifts uncomfortably but explains how the deer had appeared and how it had frightened Hector. I hate that it does, but an uneasy feeling twists within me. If it was not my magic, then there is only one other who it would belong to. But perhaps he is mistaken. Perhaps it was a normal deer. I am about to tell Arawn not to worry about it when his eyes fix on something behind me.
I turn to find a pocket watch nervously swinging back and forth, back and forth.
"Cedric?"
"Yes, my lady. There s-seems t-to be a slight p-p-problem."
My spine stiffens and little alarm bells tinkle within me. "A problem?" We just resolved a problem. Do I honestly need to be bothered with another?
"Y-yes. We looked and...and th-there seems to be... Well, what I'm try-trying to say..."
"Cedric," my tone is void of emotion and I can feel the mask falling over my features. I am now a lady and any fear or anger I might feel will not be displayed. "What happened?"
His words are clear and straight. "We could not find any brandy."
"Did you look everywhere?" I need clarification. This could be a slight misunderstanding, or this could be devastating.
He inhales sharply, then says, "There is no brandy left."
"Impossible."
"No. Uh, no. It's g-gone."
"Anything else?"
"We have not looked extensively, but the vat of wine is half full."
"Very well. Thank you, Cedric. Please see to it that Prince Arawn is cared for." With that, I stride from the room. Arawn calls after me, but I don't turn or pause to look at him. Anger and fear churn wildly in my stomach. Cruel little witch. Who does she think she is? There will be repercussions for manipulating this curse. If she thinks I will stand meekly by while she harms my prince and bleeds the life from my home, then she is underestimating me. I am a Vayliese and my magic is not a trivial thing that I use to keep my tea warm and turn moths into butterflies.
I emerge into the upper room of the west tower and move directly to the little round table that holds the mirror and the rose. With a deep breath, I reach for the mirror and hold it out.
"Show me Galinda," I demand tensely.
The glass blurs, then clears.
She is waiting for me.
She is seated upon a throne wearing her crown of rubies and a dress decorated with hundreds of angular silver beads. They shimmer like tiny daggers that seem to dare enemies to draw near.
"Hello, beastie," she says with a slow smile. It hardly surprises me that I am able to hear her voice.
"How dare you manipulate the curse," I bite out, wishing I could jump through the mirror and wring the woman's neck.
She laughs lightly. "How dare I? It is my curse. I can do with it what I like."
"You cannot end it."
She scrunches her perfect, pink lips in a pout. "No, I cannot end it. If I could, I would have done that years ago." She pauses, then smiles coyly. "But I can quicken its pace."
I will not beg before her. Never. "You are a heartless, wicked serpent and I swear that once I am free of this curse, I will kill you."
"Once you are free? You will never be free." She laughs gleefully and the glass changes once again, but her voice still echoes through me and reminds me how truly powerless I am.
*****
Galinda is getting on my nerves! Has she gotten to you yet??