The days of winter dragged on at a slug's pace, however, evidence of contagious excitement amongst the townsfolk regarding the impending festival as well as the soonest arrival of Fall made one barely notice the slothful days. The weather filtered through several changes; from the warm and almost soothing heat of noon to the lingering, frostbitten cold midnights; which during one of such townsfolk had spotted the lovely occurrence of a white arc in the sky – a frostbow. The legendary weapon of a certain god's blood from olden days.
Waverly had seen the frostbow already – three nights in a row.
The first time, she had mistaken the circle for a simple train of cloud, but, upon closer inspection, realized that the phenomenon was something more. There was a single brilliant star rested at the head of the arc, twinkling like the frequent yet irregular blink of a human eye. She had stared at it for hours until sleep took her on the frozen windowsill and a deep shiver roused her at dawn. She told Judson about the frostbow, but he claimed to know nothing about it nor even heard of it before.
HalfHyde, on the one hand, told her that the frostbow was called Phanyrnid in the Alp tongue. Dream, in English. And it had once belonged to Talandren Forestcloak – mortal daughter of the Entonian, Hephus, god of dreams. The Zanaan was the last of godly children to ever exist in her time, born during the reign of the former Elf King, Cérodros Elegrindh, father of Javan. Waverly found it thrilling that Talandren was a Human despite the sad fact that the former's name and deeds were widespread only amongst Humans.
"Defeat of a Nobility be the accomplishment that drove Talandren to prominence. Alas, tis same became her very grim end." HalfHyde had further explained whilst perched over a heap of scrolls with his glasses almost falling off of his nose ridge.
"A Nobility? What is a Nobility?" Waverly inquired.
Her question had startled the Elf so much that he knocked a vial of ink near off the edge of the table. He perked up at once, his expression showing extreme surprise and faint traces of brewing anger.
"I take it a hilarity ye has meant the question to be and nothing more."
Waverly thinned her lips. Her father had taught her about such things repeatedly, but she could not quite recall them. The one thing that irked him even more than her usual inattentiveness was her ability to swiftly forget, and she felt strangely nostalgic as the Elf glared at her, waiting for a tangible reply. The more he stared, the more difficult it became for her retentivity to kickstart.
Instead, she blinked and faked a sheepish smile.
"Of course, Pa. I was merely joking. I do know what a Nobility is."
HalfHyde's eyebrows sterned. "Pray tell to me what."
A pack of Rages. Her inner voice whispered. She could have sworn she heard it giggle too.
"A group of Rages." Waverly replied and drew in progressive breaths of relief when her father nodded and returned to glaring at his scrolls.
After that, she opted to speak to Judson about such delicate topics instead. Thankfully, Abelena's threats remained mere words and nothing of dreadful sorts had happened to him. Waverly was yet to be given the unstated punishment Henry had threatened some many days back because it seemed that Lord Malcer's advocation about there being no instance of physical violence made sense after all. They could do nothing to her as long as she made no attempts to hit Abelena. The latter, on the flipside, was working incredibly hard to make a confrontation inevitable.
The High Scribe's daughter had set out inconspicuous little traps around town for Waverly to fall into, making sure to be absent herself so as to properly deny any involvement.
There was the one particular incident with an electric eel that led to Waverly eventually being driven up the wall.
On that day, she had strolled into the larger part of town where roads were pleasantly even; covered in soft grasses and often meeting in gores. There, the presence of an impossibly large smithery made the ground shake at intervals. The Grand Ale carved out long, neverending roads that led into neighboring villages and small counties as well as a marchland some hundred miles to the East. It was a pleasant thought to Waverly that one did not always have to travel by ship in Bremeton to get to other locations.
She walked by a stooping hut where an elderly apothecary held residence and caught sight of a squealing group of girls and a few boys. About thirty yards from the hut was the smallest pond she had ever seen. Instead of the structure being round as normal ponds were, it was oblong, and that was the sole reason she had felt drawn to take a look at it.
As she approached, she recognized a few faces amongst the squealing group; two of which were Astraline Cockcroft, and her mute younger brother, Alasdair.
"There's something in the water." Astraline offered even before Waverly could ask. Her face was twisted in disgust.
"A fish?" Waverly guessed.
A little hum came from the Half-Elf. "I do not truly believe so. The water is murky and so we cannot see it, but you can tell it is swimming around."
"Why, leave it alone then." chuckled Waverly.
Just then, the unclear water rippled swiftly, causing the spectators around it to jump back with loud shrieks of shock and intense excitement.
"We cannot, don't you see?!" A boy piped, his voice rich with enthusiasm.
"Liberty's lost a shoe in the pond." Exclaimed another enthusiast.
Waverly frowned, recalling the name. She turned to Astraline. "Liberty?"
"Yes. Dorice's pony. Her shoe fell in." Astraline explained. Her sleek black hair was braided down her back, and her sallow skin was like her brother's. It reminded Waverly of Diarmaid and Dermot's.
"How come?" Waverly inquired, bepuzzled.
"Liberty likes to kick whenever she's upset." The first boy cheerfully elaborated. "She was being led down from the stables and something obviously upset her before she kicked her shoe right into the pond."
"So, am I right in believing that one of you has an aim to retrieve the missing shoe?"
Astraline scoffed quietly. "They all tried; used sticks and poles, a fishing hook and a broken lantern post, but none of it worked. Dorice got really upset and ran home weeping. Now, they have made good sport out of the fact that Liberty's shoe is down there waiting to be either worn or eaten by whatever is in the pond."
Waverly glanced at the murky water. It looked to be quite shallow, about as deep as an arm could go. Her nose scrunched up and she took several retreating steps. There was an oozing smell that hung about the water and made her nauseous. She reasoned that the creature inside the pond was foul and hated to be disturbed. Besides, a missing horseshoe was not her problem.
"Good luck!" She half retched and turned to leave.
Just then, Dorice appeared on the road, wiping at her eyes and half running. Behind her were familiar faces; Penelope and her adorable dog, Tooth, and Theophilia. They rushed to the pond scene, oblivious to Waverly's presence.
"Well, did you get it out?" Dorice asked Astraline.
A serious frown formed on the latter's face. "I do not recall owing you any favors. It was your pony, Dorice."
"That does not mean you cannot help." Dorice countered.
"Have Penelope reach for it." A different enthusiast suggested. "Her arm could fit."
"Right before I would lose it, that bit is true. Have you got ramshackles for a brain then, Mildred?" Penelope defended, visibly offended.
"Philia," Dorice turned. "You do it, then. Please?"
Theophilia backed up by an inch. "I cannot. You know I can barely stand the sight of water. Go and ask your father."
"He would kill me, or worse restrain me from riding on Liberty for a whole month. I cannot risk him knowing about the shoe. If he did anyway—"
"Look!" Someone gasped. Every eye turned to the pond. "It stopped moving around."
"Do you think it fell asleep?" Another asked.
"Throw something in to make sure!" One suggested.
Plop! Plop! Plop!
A rain of stones fell into the pond, but the water only rippled for a long moment then stilled again. The spectators glanced expectantly at each other then at Dorice and her friends.
"Well?" The first boy urged.
"Well, what?" Astraline asked, lifting a brow. Her cat, Meadow, appeared right behind Alasdair's leg.
"This is your chance to reach for it once and for all. The thing's gone to asleep." He responded.
"I am not sticking my hand in there, and in case you did not notice, Ethelred, my arm is shorter than even yours. I would not reach the bottom of the pond."
"Who's to do it, then?" A different spectator inquired.
All eyes instantly veered to Waverly. She raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"You're handsomely tall." Ethelred stated with a cool smile.
Waverly felt her cheeks heat up. Nobody had said such about her before.
"Care to do Liberty a little favor and pull her shoe out?"
Waverly regretted letting Ethelred convince her into sticking a hand in the pond. She regretted even noticing the commotion in the first place. Only moments after she carefully wiggled an arm about inside the murky pond water, she had felt Liberty's shoe alright and had already picked it up when the most shocking sensation met her fingertips and traveled up her arm, numbing it entirely. She screamed and withdrew her spasming limb, falling to the ground as she dropped the horseshoe. A roar of laughter went up in the crowd almost immediately as they watched her writhe in pain. The person who had shown true sympathy amidst all the jeering was Astraline. The She-Elf remorsefully confessed later on that she had been severely threatened to keep shut about the elaborate prank.
Two days passed before Waverly's arm began to heal after being constantly tended to by HalfHyde. It took perpetual admonishments from him and all of her own willpower to resist roughly launching Abelena across the empty glade. The widgeon scornfully laughed at Waverly's immobile arm whenever they collided in the hallways of the Master House.
While she did a commendable job ignoring Abelena, HalfHyde had a harder time doing the same for Lord Coutts. The latter would often make snarky side comments, threats and jokes about the Elf – most of which he did directly. As a result of this, the pair usually quarreled heatedly, and it was easy to see that despite Henry's razor sharp tongue, he was still wary of HalfHyde's temper because he often kept a good distance between himself and the Elf whenever angry words flew back and forth, or when HalfHyde strode and spoke at the same time.
Amidst it all, the festivities of Fall drew nearer.
Four nights the festival would last for, Lord Malcer had announced to Waverly. She sighted lovely preparations at every turn in town, including the mirthful aura of townsfolk. The nights were longer, but she appreciated them because it allowed her to spend more quality time with Judson.
"The ships!" He revealed on a cold evening whilst reconstructing a nest for a pair of injured birds.
Waverly glanced up at him. There was so much color in his face that made her break into a smile that he did not see. He looked to be bursting with health, growing wider and taller as slowly as the winter nights. His curls grew to reach below his neck, but she had carefully chopped them off upon his request. Her eyes took in the sheen on his forehead caused by cold moisture in the air and the cluster of beautiful curls that unevenly lined his facial features. He chewed on a pomegranate as he worked and would often generously hold out the seeds of it on his finger to the birds beside him.
Pancake and Whisper he had named them both. They were his favorite company albeit a quite reckless pair. Both had sustained injuries after poking at one another with their beaks during a disagreement. The female – Pancake – loved to perch on Judson's hair, or in front of his face, pecking at him nonstop with her beak. Waverly unhappily voiced that it counted as kissing.
"Shame on you, Pancake! Your partner is right there." She had laughed once. The bird had eaten all of her bread only hours later.
"What ships?" She asked now, passing wisps of briar and stalk to Judson.
He glanced up briefly. "I wanted to show you a trio of ships, lordly ships, the time I asked you to visit in two days."
Waverly frowned, taken by curiosity. "There is a harbour somewhere around?"
"Yes," Nodded Judson, reaching for another stalk. He was good at weaving things quickly, but took extra care with the nest. "But it is very far away. Would take you a good week on foot to get there."
"How then did you—?" Waverly faltered, realizing the answer to her own question as well as forming another just as quickly. "Did you spot the ships long before they arrived the harbour?"
She chuckled when he did. With his head down, he reached for another stalk, but grabbed her hand instead, interlacing his fingers with hers. She went very scarlet in the face.
"Of course, I saw them long before." He glanced into the trees. "It is a lovely view from way up there."
Waverly scooted close to him in excitement and wonder, startling Whisper, who jerked back at once. She turned her gaze to Judson's black wing and flicked a feather with her finger.
"It did not bother you flying all the way up?"
Judson studied her face for a few moments and smiled. "No. As a matter of fact, it was liberating flying all the way up. I felt robbed the moment my feet touched the ground again."
"Robbed? What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "My kind live on the ground all their lives. I guarantee they have hardly seen the rooftop of their own homes again after constructing it. Imagine – a race born with the liberty to fly, confining themselves to walk only. I wish I had defeated my fears long ago and chosen to live the way I wanted."
"But now you can." Waverly confirmed and gave his hand a little squeeze.
He bumped his shoulder against hers, but said nothing. She watched in silence as he finished the nest and followed him so he could place it in the tree where the birds resided.
"It would be better for you both if you talked it out next time." He admonished, pointing from one hovering bird to the other. "I will not weave a nest for you again."
With that, he took Waverly's hand and strolled away from the tree.
"Yes, you will." Waverly said.
He turned to her. "I will what?"
"You will weave a nest for them over and over, and over and over."
Judson burst into laughter. "I had to make threats or else they would take full advantage. You do not want to see how it is when birds get lazy. Monkeys become more hardworking."
Waverly let comfortable silence fall between them for a while. Judson led her past his wattle and down a secluded path cocooned by the dark slender trunks of wood trees. There, the ground was loud because it was strewn with heaps of dry and dead leaves. She knew the path very well. It led to disaster. A few nights before when she played a game of tag with Judson, she had run to the very end of the road. An end she did not know was there. The path broke off and opened into a fifty foot drop where there were piles of massive rocks, tree stumps, and a dying streamlet flowing over it all. It seemed Judson might have sensed the danger sooner. Being unable to outrun her, he had flown ahead and caught her in his arms right as she plunged into the air. On the other side, the forest continued on as if it was not interrupted by a gaping depression. The encounter had ruined the fun of that evening, and Waverly swore she would never go near the road again.
Halfway into the wood, she halted and pulled Judson by the arm with a pout.
"Let us go back."
He glanced from her to the leaf strewn path and chuckled slightly. "You bear a grudge now. The road had nothing to do with happened."
Her mouth hung half open. "Are you defending the road?"
Judson came up and tenderly took her face in his hands. In the eerie light of late evening, his eyes were brilliant. Waverly likened them to new ashes – the remains of a newly extinguished fire, and yet, tinders to the start of a new one. His lips pressed down on hers and she held him close, relishing the fragrance of his entire form. Between his arms there was a lulling warmth that never went away and she wanted to hide it from prying eyes as much as she could for fear that someone would notice and come to share.
When he pulled away, his forehead rested against hers, and for a time both were silent, enjoying the proximity and each other's company. The forest was alive with sounds of animals that did not hibernate during winter, and that of some that should have hibernated, but did not as a result of the nilly-willy changes in the season and occasional rain.
After a moment, Waverly asked what she had been meaning to.
"Will you bring me to see the harbour, Jud?"
Judson fell into a round of laughter and pulled her into a hug. She laughed along, not clearly sure what the humor was for. He left a trail of kisses on her cheek, and when he looked at her, she saw joy in his eyes. The sight made her heart soar.
"I was merely waiting for you to ask. Of course, I will bring you to the harbour, although there are no ships there now. It is as small as the one we came upon after making landfall on Erehas."
"I would love to see it anyway." Waverly professed.
"Alright. I will take you there tomorrow."
Waverly had skipped all the way back to the Master House, feeling utmostly better than she did when she first left it in the morning. The idea of going to see the harbour made her nostalgic because she had lived near one back in Lake Borough. In fact, her whole life had ultimately begun at the harbour when she first boarded a ferryboat to blindly rescue Selene.
She pushed open the doors, inhaling the appealing smell of freshly baked buttery bread and grounds of cocoa beans. The Master House was warm and homey albeit the grounds for an occasional squabble between housemates.
Just as she had guessed, there was a servant that occasionally came in to clean.
Her name was Resli Silverfist, and she was a Dwarf.
Despite being of small stature, the woman could reach tall places with ease because she was a skilled climber. Her eyes reminded Waverly of a kind of lapis Judson found once long ago. The precious stone was blue and soft with green inside it that resembled veins. Resli's eyes were exactly the same. They were striking, bold, and exceedingly commanding. Her stare always drew people to an unintended halt, not excluding the Lords of the Master House. Resli was the only person with the ability to shut Lord Henry up without even asking him to.
Sadly, Resli was a rare sight in spite of how much Waverly liked her. The two became acquainted a day after the lizard incident with Abelena. Waverly had woken up far too early and overheard careful noises from downstairs. She opted to discover the reason, and after a hilarious collision, struck an instant friendship with Resli. The Dwarf woman nicknamed her Heltryd which, in the Dwarvish tongue, meant a god's heroine. The next day she called her by Oriiess (matriarch) claiming she had forgotten to use the first nickname. It was only during the wee hours before the break of dawn that Resli could be seen, or in seldom cases, very late at night.
Waverly heard pots clanking down the hallway as she shut the door behind her and guessed it was none other than Resli. She scurried down in hopes to say hello and catch the lovely whiff of myrrh and parsley that hung about the frills of Resli's apron.
Just then, someone emerged from the curving hall on the right.
"Mind you, that Dwarf servant will not be paid twice to mop these floors after you. We have much better things to spend money on."
Waverly scowled and felt anger rise up into her chest at the mere sight of Abelena. The girl was dressed in velvet black that would have looked nicer on someone less thrasonic and pompous.
"It would do you a lot of good to keep those unwanted comments to yourself." She replied.
"Tell me, does your arm still hurt?" Abelena taunted.
"It's healed enough to make you see stars, if that's what you're asking."
"You are as ill-tempered as your father indeed. I can only imagine what your mother was like."
Waverly stepped forward and spoke through gritted teeth. "This has nothing to do with either one of my parents and you better let it drop this instant."
"Or what? You're going to go tell your mother that does not exist?" Abelena broke into mocking laughter and feigned a pitiful whimper when she saw surprise flicker across Waverly's face.
"That is right." She continued. "I know you are an orphan. The Half-Elf had to give full account of the child in his custody to the Council. Pity, you were abandoned as a babe. I do not blame your mother though. One look at you and anyone would toss you into the nearest cesspit."
"Shut up!" Waverly snapped.
"Heltryd," Resli suddenly called from behind Abelena. "Is all well?"
"Yes, yes, Ms Silverfist." Abelena replied dismissively. "Nothing you should be concerned with."
"Hold your tongue, little mite. I was not speaking to you." Resli spat, startling Abelena for a moment. She turned to Waverly. "Is all well?"
Waverly's gaze dangerously lingered on Abelena's face. "It will be if she peacefully walks away right this second."
"Oh, great chimes! What are you going to do if I chose to stay? My father lived here long before yours arrived, and that means, I have every right to come and go as I wish. Those empty threatening stares you give mean nothing to me, do you understand? You're the one that has to shoo away. Leave your father to his business, at least, do him a favor. Go find your mother wherever she is and bother her. I can vouch she is up to no good either and is everything like the entitled clart she has for a daughter."
"Insolence, Lena Colvin Coutts. Cease this at once." Resli shouted.
Abelena turned matter-of-factedly. "Oh, did I understate? I meant strumpet."
In a flash, Waverly had grabbed Abelena by the hair. The pair struggled and scuffled violently, crashing into things around the house. The sound of pained bloodcurdling screams, yelps, and ceramics and glass loudly shattering to pieces drew attention very fast. Before they were separated, Abelena pushed Waverly back and struck her against the cheek. The latter retaliated with an immediate force that sent her opponent straggling and crashing into more household items.
"Athéma." Waverly growled, seething with rage. (Curses)
A pair of hands pulled her backwards in a restricting manner, yet her glare remained on Abelena, who was being helped to her feet by Esmond. The left side of her face bled profusely from cuts along her temple and cheek. Loose strands of hair from all over her head made her look much like a raccoon, and a large rip in the hem of her black dress showcased another bleeding cut on her calf. She broke into pained sobs, attempting to wiggle free from Esmond's grip.
Waverly wheeled and found that she was being held by Malcer and not HalfHyde as she had initially thought.
"What on earth happened, Resli?" Esmond inquired, severely dumbfounded by the scenario.
"A nasty fight, Lord Esmond. I believe that there was an excha—"
Resli was interrupted by Lord Henry storming into the living quarters. Apparently, he had stepped into the Master House and seen his daughter, who was within sight from the doorway.
"What on earth is this?" He roared, inspecting his child with a horrified look on his face. His gaze found Waverly then, and without waiting for a reply, he strode toward her.
"Little bastard!"
Henry's hand closed around Waverly's neck for two minutes before he was roughly pried off by Malcer and Esmond. Even then, air was almost completely snatched out of her. She fell to the floor, coughing. HalfHyde walked in at that moment and ran to her.
"This is the height of it." Henry shouted, a vein popping in his forehead. "Attempted murder! You will spend your entire life in the prison yard. Do you hear me?"
"Hear me, Lord Henry." Resli intervened with a visible frown on her typically imperturbable face. "Your daughter solely began this gainstrife by saying such unkind, cruel things about the lassie's parentage. If she will be punished, then yours will be as well on the same level for insolence. Fair and square, Lord Henry. Fair and square."
"And these injuries?" Henry inquired, fuming less than he did before Resli had spoken. "Do you see the blood on my child, Silverfist?"
"I see, Lord Henry, but it is nothing a few dabs of rum and herb won't fix within days. It was unavoidable the amount of collisions they had with glass and earthenware within the quarters."
"How is it, then, that after so much so-called collisions, my daughter is the one with wounds? How is she unharmed?" He pointed accusingly at Waverly.
"I advise that Lena be attended to immediately before she loses the strength to stand up straight, Henry. All questions will be answered much later." Malcer contributed.
After they begrudgingly dispersed, HalfHyde made Waverly retell what transpired in the hallway. He appeared visibly angry as she repeated all that Abelena had said. A cut on her right index was the only injury she sustained during the scuffle because unlike her lousy opponent, she had been fully aware of her surroundings; the result of her senses being honed by numerous battles whether in close quarters or otherwise.
"Until a conclusion be made in regard to the upset ye took involvement with, within ye chamber ye must remain." HalfHyde declared, rising to his feet. He appeared angered still.
Waverly rebelliously rose. "That is unfair!"
"To no matter will unfairness be if to stately confinement ye be sent for seasons without end. Tis no jaunting case the inflictions of wounds dealt to Henry's child, and to worse punishment for it might ye be rewarded. I spoke warnings several times, Waverly, that ye hands should be stayed else a thing of tis sort happen."
"She pushed me, Pa." Waverly defended, drawn to tears, but neither her father's scolding nor Abelena's cruelty was the reason.
"To a great deal such grave transgression I have understanding, but tis be not the reason behind my wrath neither the reason I confine ye to this chamber."
He walked to the window and halted, clasping both hands behind his back – the common posture he always stood in. Whenever he exhaled, a whiff of cold air blew from his nostrils and collided with the glass of the window before him.
"When ye struck the High Scribe's daughter, it be the same as purposefully stepping onto the tail of a Carkness. Tis the account Henry will use against me and against ye before the Council, for long it be that he has awaited such opportunity to dispel my services entirely. He be a dangerous, wily man and over the hearts of council members he holds sway as well as townsfolk."
Waverly watched her father as he quietly fiddled with his own fingers and realized how much trouble fighting with Abelena had brought upon them both. Even though the trouble did not frighten her, the thought of HalfHyde being shamed before the Council did. A kind of terror began to fill her chest, making her regret her actions.
"Forgive me, Pa. I did not mean to—"
"Ye fails to understand yet that I carry not the slightest bit of anger toward ye, or the actions ye took in defense of pride."
He spun around and Waverly heard the faintest click when his hand swept past the window. Her shoulders slumped, unhappiness blanketing her from head to foot.
"But ye must heed me tis – remain in ye chambers."
With that, the Elf gently left the room, locking it behind him.
Waverly plopped heavily on her bed, then rose a moment later to check on the window. Just like the door, the window had been secured. It took until that moment for her to realize that the frame had a keyhole on the sill, and that HalfHyde was in possession of the key. Her eyes traveled through the mist covered pane toward the forest. She would not be seeing the harbour tomorrow, or the day after, and neither would she be seeing Judson.
Heartbroken, she returned to her bed and slumped on it, sobbing into the crook of her arms.