17 . 1 . 11

Happy MLK day, everyone!

Note: A lot of this was copied from the original, so bear with me. It also has a lot of quick scene-changes; I thought that was the best way to show the scene.

The sun had just set, and Nre and Cameron were sitting behind Sandra's house taking a few minutes to be alone with themselves; everything was still and peaceful. Then, a shriek rent the air.

"Lazy layabout! Squashed tomatoes! I hope this helps you learn about taking care of my vegetables!" the Master yelled, taking Rose by the shoulder and shaking her; his other hand held the switch.

Rose flinched, her face paling as she imagined what would happen next. Sarah's mind raced as she stood next to the other servants who had been called to witness the punishment.

No, it's not true! I looked at the tomatoes myself! They were perfect...

Voicing her objections wasn't even an option, though; that would just be asking for a worse beating, and Rose would probably get a worse one, too. She'd seen the Master angry before, and she knew she had to wait it out. But Rose didn't do anything wrong. Nevertheless, Sarah was forced to watch as Rose was shoved against the wall, cowering while the Master raised the horrible switch.

The slaves watched impassively; this wasn't the first time little clumsy Rose had done something to upset the Master, and they knew there was nothing they could do about it. So they just stood there.

Sarah could not block the scene from her mind. No matter how hard she tried to think of something else, as she usually did when there was a beating, she could still hear the whistle of the switch through the air as he brought it down on her back, tearing her dress back to shreds.

Rose didn't make a sound, her fingers gripping the wall. Her eyes were shut, but her face was as impassive as those of the slaves watching her injustice. The lash was brought down again, this time on her now unprotected back. She didn't make a sound. The lash struck her back a third time, and a whimper escaped her mouth, barely heard.

I can't watch, Sarah thought, looking away. Not again.

Four. Rose could no longer stifle the pain. Usually she was only lashed three times; she just couldn't hold it in any longer; she screamed in agony, hastening the next blow as the Master yelled.

"Hush, girl! You don't know what pain is yet!"

He directed his next blow at an unbloodied bit of skin; her lower leg had come out from under her dress. Rose bit her lip with all her might, drawing blood, and the lash cut angry lines into her leg.

Nre and Cameron started, Nre's eyes wide with concern.

"What was that?" she whispered. "Was that a human?"

"It was a girl," Cameron said, jumping to his feet and walking away from the glow of the horizon. "I'm certain it was a girl. And it came from that house."

Nre pushed herself to her feet and trotted after him.

Five. Rose's head was bowed, but Sarah could see tears streaming down her cheeks.

No! This isn't right! she suddenly thought, her blood running, hot, then cold.

Sarah's willpower snapped and she lunged for the switch, grabbing it before it hit Rose's back again.

"Leave her alone!" she shrieked, trying to rip the switch from the Master's hands. "The tomatoes were perfect! I inspected them myself!"

The slaves turned to Sarah, most of them shaken from whatever they had been thinking of to distract themselves from the scene in front of them. Sarah felt like a wild animal, barely a human anymore. She was so angry, she couldn't see straight. The Master yanked the switch from Sarah's grasp badly cutting her hands, but she didn't seem to notice. She stood between the Master and Rose, who was crumpled on the floor, breathing heavily and trying to stifle her tears.

"How dare you! Impertinent child!" he said, face red and frightening.

"She didn't do anything wrong!" Sarah said, eyes blazing. She had the sickening feeling that whatever had possessed her was going to get her killed.

"Get out of my way!" he thundered.

"No!" Her voice was almost as loud as his, full of the anger that had been building inside of her since she'd been sold into slavery when she was five.

"Sarah, I am warning you!"

"Leave her alone!" Her voice was raw, but she didn't move.

The switch was brought down furiously on her arm, lacing it with angry red stripes. Sarah winced, but didn't move. The Master raised the switch again, but then stopped himself and grabbed her arm, dragging her to the door. A few slaves stumbled out of the way, desperate to stay out of the Master's path.

He opened the door and shoved her in the small of her back, causing her to fall out the door and hit the porch with a painful thump.

"I hope the coyotes find your sorry carcass," he hissed, slamming the door.

Sarah pulled herself to her feet and tried to open the door, but it was locked. She almost collapsed, but her mind was racing too fast to stay still. The only thing she could think was to run. Far, and fast. She started off the porch, running down the hill, then collided with someone, sending them both sprawling.

"What happened? Is everything alright?" he said quickly, getting off the ground and pulling her to her feet by her right arm.

Sarah yelped in pain and pulled away from his hand, now bloodied. He looked down and saw the blood, eyes widening.

"What happened?" he repeated urgently.

"It's just a beating, sir," she said, keeping her eyes low. "I'm sorry for running into you, sir. It won't happen again."

"That's the least of my concerns," he said, and his voice was soft.

"I'll get a bandage," a quiet voice said behind him.

Sarah looked up sharply and saw another slave turning around and running lightly to Sandra's house.

"Is everyone all right?" the man asked.

"It's nothing to concern yourselves with," Sarah said, her courage vanished.

The man didn't look like he believed her, but he didn't say anything else on the subject.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Sarah, sir," she said.

"My name is Nathaniel," he said.

She nodded, wondering why he was introducing himself like she actually mattered to anyone. The slave returned with a bandage and began wrapping her arm. Sarah took this opportunity to look at the face that had previously been shadowed by Nathaniel. A small boyish face and short brown hair with sparkling blue eyes were all she could see in the dusky light.

"Thank you," Sarah said, unsmiling.

The boy nodded wordlessly and stood behind Nathaniel again.

"Where will you stay tonight, Sarah?" Nathaniel asked.

"I don't know. Probably the chicken coop, to stay warm."

She again wondered why he cared. There was something strange about this man. Nathaniel pursed his lips but said nothing more.

"Fare well, then, Sarah."

"Fare well, my lord Nathaniel," she said with a bow.

She turned to go, noticing Nathaniel's gaze as it rested on the Master's house. He was thinking about something.

When Thomas entered Gloria's study again the next day, it was with much more determination, and he was much harder to ignore. Gloria considered taking over one of the unused rooms, so he would stop walking in on her when she was clearly trying to avoid him.

"I know you're angry at me," Thomas started saying, and his voice was even more confident than it had been the day before, "and you have every right to be. I apologized for the way I have treated you, and I don't blame you for not accepting my apology. However."

He walked over to her desk and put his hands on it, very close to the letter she was writing. Gloria still did not look up. She was definitely going to move her study. The books would be a pain to move, but it would be manageable.

"However," Thomas repeated, "Right now, Nre is in danger. More danger than either of us can guess, I suspect. And while it may be too late for us to help her, I think we need to try."

Thomas had just said one of the only things that would make Gloria listen to him, and he knew it. She slowly looked up, then she gestured to the chair that was pushed against the wall away from the door.

"Does this have to do with Karl?" she asked as he pulled the chair over to her desk and sat down.

He looked surprised.

"How did you—"

"When you wouldn't tell me anything, I went searching through your desk," she said impatiently. "Who is he? Is he connected to the kidnapping?"

"I'm not altogether certain who he is," Thomas said.

Gloria raised her eyebrows. Thomas hastened to explain what ended up being a rather complicated story. Apparently his interactions with Karl had started some months earlier, when a mysterious note from the man had been delivered to him in the middle of a stack of other important letters that had been sorted from the general mail. When he'd asked his manservant where the letter had come from, the man had sworn that he'd never seen it in his life.

The first letter was the longest; Thomas produced it from his pocket.

King Thomas,

There is really nothing I can do to keep this letter from sounding like the product of an anarchist plot or the ravings of a madman. Since I know that it would be a useless effort, I'm not really going to try. I just hope that you can fill in the blanks of what I can't say and understand that I am trying to help, and not harm, your kingdom. And family.

Your daughter is in serious danger. I can't explain to you how or why directly, except that she must be kept out of contact with Prince Cameron of Grendath as much as is possible. I understand that they're mooning at each other, but I can't stress the importance of this. Their relationship is where the true danger lies, although the lovestruck boy has no idea.

There is a prophesy that has been mostly hidden from non-magic folk that you should probably look into, pulling your kingly strings and such. It includes an ancestor of yours. This particular prophesy has caught the eye of [ink splotch, scribble] some people who might wish to take advantage of the unwitting recipients. I might also point out that the recipients would probably not be seen again in such an instance.

I apologize for the roundabout language, but my hands are tied.

-Karl

Thomas then explained that he spent the next month trying to discover the elusive prophesy Karl had mentioned, driven by the man's tone to test his story as much as he could. He finally found a wizard who was willing to tell him the basic story of Shayna's Promise, though with much reservation.

Thomas was familiar with the fairy-story of Shayna freeing the fiari, but the wizard continued past the end of the story and added that Shayna was then promised four wishes for her heroic acts. She denied the wishes, claiming that she was content, so the fairies promised that two of her descendants would fall in love and each be granted four wishes.

The wizard explained that it was generally assumed that these descendants would be 100th generation, because fairies usually cast their spells in hundreds. He added that "falling in love" was probably also categorized as kissing, as fairies have little concept of real love.

Thomas then spent days poring over genealogies and discovered, as he had suspected, that Nre and Cameron were both 100th generation descendants of Shayna.

"By that time, more than two months had passed from the first letter," Thomas said. "I soon got another letter from Karl."

He produced the second letter.

I see that you aren't keeping Nre and Cameron from talking. Thomas, listen to me. If you are still suspicious of my motives or knowledge, send me any questions you have in a letter to the Oblique in Fairmont, care of Benjamin Rowe. I'll do what I can to answer you. Please be understanding; I'm doing my best to talk with you, but I'm in a dangerous position.

-Karl

"We sent a few more letters back and forth, and I gathered that he was probably in the inner circle of a wizard who wanted to exploit the wishes for some dangerous purpose. That's when I set up Nre and Carvin's marriage and cut off Nre and Cameron's letters. I also asked Delmun to keep Cameron at the castle, but…"

He waved his hand.

"So," Gloria said, trying to wrap her mind around the huge amount of information he'd just given her. "Karl, whoever he is, has some sort of inlet to this dangerous wizard, and he's trying to warn you of the man's plans without actually saying anything?"

"That's what it looks like," Thomas said. "And I've already tried looking up anyone named Karl who is connected to wizards, but there are just too many Karls to be sure one way or the other."

"I know," Gloria said. "I tried that, too. It would be easier to find the wizard."

"I checked all the wizards in Berensia, Grendath, and even Molln," Thomas sighed, "but all of them are under enough supervision that they couldn't be plotting something this big without anyone noticing. Whoever it is is hiding somewhere, and when wizards don't want to be found… they generally aren't. You know that as well as I."

Gloria pressed on.

"Maybe we need to expand our search. Liot, Seranjado, and Werinith aren't outside the realm of possibility, especially for a wizard. He could be anywhere."

With that grim realization, they both sank in their chairs. The impossible thought of searching the whole continent for a wizard who did not want to be found was simply overwhelming — especially when the clock was possibly ticking on their daughter's life.

"I'll send letters to the royalty in all Ladyra," Thomas said. "We are on good terms with most of them; I am sure they would respond to such a plea."

Gloria was listening to him, but she couldn't help but remember the words Karl had written. The recipients would probably not be seen again. Tears pricked at her eyes again; what if they were already too late?

"Gloria?"

She didn't lift her head. Thomas hesitated, reached for her hand, then drew back. Gloria drew a slow breath, and Thomas mustered the courage to take her hand. His hand was cool and dry; hers was sweaty where she had been clenching it into a fist.

"We're not going to give up, Lori," he said. "I promise."

Gloria couldn't help it; all the emotional strain of the past few days had pushed her past her limits of fortitude. She began to weep. Not just a few tears, not even a stifled sob — she began to cry in earnest, her breath heaving and her tears splashing onto the finish of the desk.

Before she knew it, there was something warm wrapped around her. Thomas had walked around the desk, and he had his arm around her now, the other still holding her hand. She turned her head and blindly buried her face in his chest, crying more than she had in her recent memory. He let go of her hand and began stroking her hair, a little clumsily at first — but slowly, his fingers remembered their patterns.

Gloria let him comfort her, and, for the first time in years, her husband was warm.

Nre groaned and rolled over; the ground was not a comfortable place to sleep, but she didn't have much of a choice. Sandra had one extra bed, and it wouldn't make much sense for the servant to sleep on it. She heard Cameron move on the bed above her and stifled a yawn, peeling her eyes open.

He was looking at her.

She jumped, then yawned.

"By the crown, Cameron," she muttered. "Warn a body."

"Sorry. I was just thinking about Sarah."

She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"Did you think of anything we could do?"

Cameron looked out the window and opened his mouth partially, then ran his tongue along his bottom lip; he was nervous.

"What is it?" she nudged.

"We could… see if the man of the house would let us stay there, in exchange for a job. Didn't Reese say that house belonged to the potter?"

"Hm," Nre said, unsure.

She had the sickening feeling that she wouldn't be able to masquerade as a boy forever, and she didn't particularly relish living with a larger group of people. On the other hand, having guests in the house might make life better for Sarah.

Cameron looked at her, following her thought train by the expressions on her face.

"I know it's a bit risky with you trying to be a boy," he said, "but we might at least be able to make life better for her in the short term."

Nre nodded.

"Alright. Well, it never hurts to ask, I suppose. You don't think Sandra would mind, do you?"

Cameron shook his head.

"She's welcoming enough, but I get the feeling that she doesn't particularly like having us here. We draw attention."

Nre reflected on Sandra's frequent glances at the door and slight jumpiness when anyone actually knocked.

"You're right. I guess it's worth a try, then."

This answer took longer in coming, but Carvin eventually looked up in triumph.

"A voice!"

The fairy smiled broadly.

"Good. And you wish the third?"

"Yes."

"Wherever she goes, something is left,

Common, yet precious; she is often bereft,

A new one she gains with every home,

Finding and losing them as she roams."

What did she lose?"

So, what do you think of the Thomas/Gloria development? And Cam and Nre? Any guesses on this riddle? Spot any typos?

Mazzie: Hm, I revoke my sympathy, then. That sounds terribly aggravating. -face- Haha, you don't remember Sarah and Rose from Nasap? Wow, you really don't remember anything, do you? It's fine, though. I'll save you the temptation of rereading by telling you that a lot of their stuff was directly copied and pasted. In light of Thomas and Gloria "BREAKING YOUR HEART" last chapter, what did you think of them this chapter? Your explanation for Reese's father is quite logical and altogether probable. Do you want a spoiler? Just a tiny one? -whisper- There is a vampirate in this story. And, your riddle guess was excellent, but not quite on the mark. -chuckle-

Reviewers can have some of my delicious Swiss Treat!