Author's Note: Thank you to all my readers, reviewers, and subscribers.

Of Light

Chapter Three

- The Fields of the Papay -

Finaqua was a full day's journey from Central City. Wyatt Cain and his company of men, five young Resistance fighters still high off their triumph at the Tower a month before, left at first sunrise in a military transportation truck. As they approached the Papay fields, Cain shook his head, glancing down to his hands. His last trip south had been perilous, every second worrying about not only his life, but a princess who randomly discharged magic from her hands. It felt almost like a cruel joke that he would travel to the gorge unhindered, and ride south from there on a healthy mount.

"Trees are comin' back really fast," the driver of the vehicle, an old royal army veteran, commented. His gnarled hands gripped the steering wheel in the proper driving position, and though he watched the road, he talked of the scenery. "Heard a man down in Central City talkin' about how it was the Light coming back into the country that brought the trees back to life."

"Well," said Cain thoughtfully, pushing the brim of his hat up so he could see more of the orchards. "I wouldn't know what to tell you about the Light or the trees. Life is more than coincidence." He watched branches that overhung the road. Green shoots burst forth from most tree limbs, a few even sported soft pink blossoms. He thought, perhaps, he saw a Papay granger walking the rows, treating the trees, but it was difficult to tell at their steady speed. A glimpse, and then lost.

"Looks like most all the fields will be all right. I hope myself it's a bountiful harvest. Sick to death of the fare in Central City. All processed, magicked; it's garbage. Who wants it? Fresh fruit. Apples, you remember apples?"

Cain rolled his eyes. "Of course I remember apples. Might not be able to remember what they taste like, though."

He opened the window behind him, looking out on the flatbed covered with canvas. His five servicemen were sitting with their backs to the wood planks that made up the side of the box, shouting to each other. Over the sound of the road and their own conversation, none of the men had heard him open the window, didn't know he was listening. Azkadellia was their topic. It seemed not one of them knew what to think about the task they'd been given. Protecting a princess who was a usurper, whose reign of terror had touched all their lives. Why had they all joined the Resistance in the first place, but to fight Azkadellia and her army. Now they were ordered to protect her?

"The Queen, too. She'll be with us as well."

Cain closed the window, turned back to the road. He knew the men were not informed of the reason for their being assigned to the two royals. The Queen herself had chosen the men from stacks of papers sent to her by Jeb Cain, photos and service details.

But Cain's first surprise had hit him when the envelope bearing her Majesty's royal seal had arrived on his desk at the new Tin Man Armouries in the Central City. The second surprise lay inside the envelope. On top of the records of the five chosen soldiers lay a letter for him from the Princess Azkadellia. She summoned him to lead the group. The writing was delicate, seeming to Cain that if he breathed too hard on the paper the fragile words would break apart. News coming from the palace – unofficial word from Ambrose, not anything released for the general public – was that Azkadellia kept herself secluded, rarely spoke to anyone, only spent time with DG, or only in the company of others if she was forced. "She's ashamed, she can barely look anyone in the face," was what Glitch had told him. Of DG, when he asked his friend had nothing new to report. "She fights with her mother about petty things. She rides her horse too fast, runs through the hallways, comes home dirty."

Cain smiled out the window at the thought of DG, dressed in some soft material, her hair unruly and her blue eyes twinkling mischief.

"How long until we reach the gorge?" Cain asked the vet.

"About another hour and a half or so," his companion estimated. "I don't know why I ain't taking you all the way south to the lake country. The road goes almost the full way to Finaqua. But drop you off at the bridge, them are my orders."

Cain said nothing. He was not privy to speak of such confidential matters.

The night before, Jeb had made a brief stop at Cain's apartment a few blocks from the Armouries in the Bellicose District. He had chosen to stay with the Army of Resistance instead of joining his father with the Tin Men, as Cain had subtly suggested once. The younger Cain had passed up several official promotions, promotions that would have taken him to a higher rank than his father. Of this they did not speak, though Cain wondered if his son knew that his advancement would be a source of great pride.

"Do you know how long until you'll be back in Central City?" Jeb had asked, sitting at the small kitchen table. The entire apartment was unadorned. Cain's new salary could have afforded him a place much larger than this. Even Jeb's own place was a little bigger, a better view. But, it was just another of many things that were left alone.

"Oh, it depends. To leave Finaqua and come back safely, perhaps three or four days. Depends on how well the women travel, I suppose, and the obstacles we find in our way. Country isn't safe out there, that's for damn sure." Cain sighed, zipping his duffel closed. It lay on the bed, reminding him of his morning departure. "But honestly, I doubt DG will let me leave Finaqua without staying a few extra days. So I'll probably hang around, making sure the new household guard is settled in the palace, knows the grounds, any local hazards."

Jeb laughed. "Local hazards? Bears? Or another Witch? Maybe they come in pairs."

"Hopefully there isn't anything as serious as that," Cain muttered. Words like that made him want to look over his shoulder, to know that there was nothing there. The unknown dangers of the O.Z. were beginning to unsettle him. Though he'd known the land all his life, the Darkness released along with the Witch had allowed some strange, terrifying creatures to take root in the wilderness.

"Well, her Majesty certainly chose capable men. Colonel Knowlton, however," Jeb paused there, and his work-face cracked into a smile. A big smile. "Knowlton is pissed. Passed over for a Tin Man."

"Look, I'd gladly let Knowlton go if I had a choice." Cain looked unimpressed with his situation; Jeb noted with satisfaction, however, that he'd still packed his bag, and had his gear ready to go for early morning.

"A trip to the lake and a walk through the woods," Cain said with a sigh, and rubbed his eyes. He moved the duffel off the bed, and sat down hard.

"Well, don't let DG keep you too long," Jeb said, getting up from his chair. He turned to leave. "We've got jobs to do now, this country isn't going to rebuild itself. You know, no one in the Resistance ever talked about how much work this was going to be once we had won."

- The Old Road, South -

They'd left the vet and his truck behind, traveled south through the woods. Down the same road Cain had brought DG down once before, straight to Finaqua. When the night became too dark for them to ride, they climbed down, stretched their legs, then walked their horses the remaining spans to the edge of the hedge maze. There were lanterns in their gear, but Cain didn't want to light them. The moon soon rose high, cut through the trees for them to see their path, and for them it was enough.

At the entrance to the maze, two of the palace attendants waited with lanterns. One was an older woman, the second a young man. It was the woman who spoke. "Captain, I am Bella, head of her Majesty's household staff. We are here to lead you and your party through the maze."

"We can't take our horses through there. We'll have to go around the maze."

"If you please, Captain, the Queen has requested you follow me through the maze. Leave your horse with Beaudon, he'll lead your men around the maze to the stables," she said. She gestured, and the young man moved forward. Cain dismounted, told his men to wait for him at the stables. He followed the woman into the maze.

"The Queen will receive you in her audience chamber," Bella's voice said ahead of him. She walked briskly, and after a moment he noticed she navigated the maze muttering to herself. He set his jaw, following her quiet "Left, left, right", the glow of her lantern a beacon.

- The Gazebo -

"Watch this."

DG felt it, like a tingle in her fingertips. She closed her eyes. The book in the library, titled Awakenings, had spoken of summonings. She decided, impulsively, that now would be the perfect time for her first practical application. She concentrated, not on the channel of Light, but instead on the men's voices, the sound of horses approaching. It grew louder, and she devoted thought and breath to her goal, her image in her mind. Light.

Ambrose's eyes widened as a ball of light unfolded in DG's palm. It grew larger, until it was the size of her fist. DG's eyes were still closed; the light rolled off her palm, bounced on the ground, then became buoyant and steady. It waited.

"DG," Ambrose said. She opened her eyes; they widened as his had. He smiled as she smiled, at the way she was amazed her magic had actually worked. She laughed out loud.

"Light the way to the stable, please," she requested of the light. It dipped and bobbed, perhaps bowing to its master or perhaps just excited. The bundle of light whisked away at a lazy pace, like a will-o-the-wisp. DG laughed again, threaded her arm through Ambrose's, and headed along the lake after the light.

The light dissipated as the lanterns of the stable came into view. The stable hands moved in and out of the building, watering the horses that the group of soldiers had brought with them. The men, five of them, had dropped their packs by the fence and stood around uncomfortably.

"I don't see Cain," Ambrose said.

DG approached stubbornly. When the men saw her, they fumbled. Off came their hats, and they bowed their heads, muttering quiet "Princess" and "your Highness" to her. She wanted to wave them off, but instead, as her mother had taught her, she nodded her head, acknowledged, then moved on.

"Gentlemen, Captain Cain isn't with you?"

One stepped forward. The tag sown to his tunic read Pvt. Burrows. "No, your Highness. He was escorted through the maze by your mother's attendant. You must have missed him? It took us forty-five minutes to walk around the maze."

"It's ten minutes to go through the maze," Ambrose offered DG, though he needn't have. DG had been through the maze enough times herself to know.

DG shook her head, gave her foot a dramatic little stomp. "Damn, foiled again."

The men chuckled. Ambrose noticed them relax a little around the princess. He thought he might suggest to the Queen the idea of putting DG into a position in relations, perhaps an ambassadorship, once Azkadellia became queen.

"Would you like to come back to the house with us," DG asked, turning and pointing in the direction of lights clustered in the distance. Referring to the palace as 'the house' was one of the many ways DG coped daily with the transition of a bedroom in the eaves to a massive three-room suite.

"The Captain ordered us to wait here," Pvt. Burrows said, nodding in apology.

DG laughed. "To hell with that. I order you to escort me up to the house. Let us deal with Wyatt Cain."