Child of Snow
Part six
Chapter Fourteen~
MORNTH-HE, 149 YEARS EARLIER
Evelwyn had no need for worry, for she was the century-child, born on the first morning of the century. The blessed princess of Mornth had no care, indeed. The daughter of Drui MeNatth was free to spend her spare time as she wished, for what could possibly harm her, now that she had the goodwill of the gods?
Through the forests of Morth-he Evelwyn ran, her dainty slippers soon muddy and her long hair filled with twigs and leaves. Evelwyn would hardly contain her excitement. At last she reached the stream and stood, panting. Where was he? Why was he so late today? Cupping her hands, she brought water to her face and drank. The coolness was so wonderful.
At last she saw him. Amedon, son of a miller, emerged from the dark forest on the other bank, grinning with relief when he spotted her. Evelwyn laughed happily. He had not forgotten!
"Amedon, cross the river," Evelwyn said. Amedon kneeled to drink the clean water. When he finished he grinned, warm brown eyes sparkling.
"Ai, Evel, why am I always the one to cross?" he asked, feigning annoyance.
"Because I am the one wearing a dress," Evelwyn responded practically. "Now come." With a large show that involved much splashing, Amedon crossed the stream. When Evelwyn and Amedon stood on the same bank, they embraced.
"Evel, it has been much too long," Amedon whispered into her hair. She nodded in agreement.
"Ai, but I have had trouble escaping their plans," she replied. Amedon clutched her tighter.
"You promised that you would not speak of such things," he reminded her. "We promised each other," he amended.
"I know." Evelwyn sighed. "Now, where are my flowers? You said they'd be fire-lillies this time! If you don't have my fire-lillies..."
"I have them," Amedon said with a smile. With a few flourishes, Amedon plucked a triplet of flaming flowers out of the air. Holding them delicately by their black stems, so as to not burn himself, he handed them to an awed Evelwyn.
"I didn't think..." she breathed as she took the flowers from him. The miller's son raised an eyebrow.
"You didn't think I'd keep my word? Or that I couldn't do it? Dear Evel, I thought you had better faith in me than that! It cost me a pretty penny to learn that trick."
"The local witch again?" Evelwyn asked as the twirled the lillies in the air.
"Ai, not her. My mother." He said the last word hesitantly, and it was strange coming from his mouth, a word that he rarely used. Evelwyn glanced up sharply.
"Your mother," she repeated. "Wha--"
"Lei is waiting for us," Amedon interuppted. "She will be angry with us if we are late again, Evel. We'd best hurry else we might be turned into toads."
"She probably wouldn't even notice that we were late," Evelwyn said with an unlady-like snort. "And Lei doesn't know how to turn people into toads. She tried to turn you into one when you messed up her potion, remember?"
"Ai, how could I forget? My skin was warty for months," Amedon laughed. "Now, put the lillies away." One arm held her protectively as he muttered under his breath, "Ymaeni hlumodr!"
Evelwyn felt the familiar sensation of being thrown backward as the forest around them began to spin. As always, her eyes remained open. For fear of being tossed out of the transportation spell, Evelwyn gripped Amedon tightly. They were floating--no, flying--backward through the woods. The trees around them were but a blur of dark green and black.
Finally, when Evelwyn was sure that she was about to lose her lunch, they stopped. She staggered forward. Before her eyes rose the tall tower of her closest friend and relative, who she and Amedon affectionately called Lei. Even after the many times Evelwyn had visited it, the tower still amazed her. The structure rose far above the tall, dark trees of Mornth-he, a beautiful spiraling building that seemed to pierce the sky. It was narrow, with no windows except a large one at the very top. The building was brightly painted and carved with fanciful designs and magical runes. The tower was the hidden gem of Mornth, eons old and yet unknown to anyone but Lei's family, who had owned it since its creation.
"Lei!" Amedon called. "Lei, we are here!"
"With fire-lillies!!" Evelwyn added. "Pretty fire-lillies. I'll give you one if you come out right now!! I'm counting to ten, Lei. One...two...three..."
"No need for fuss." Evelwyn turned to find the source of the voice, and grinned when she saw her cousin standing behind her. "Now, where are those fire-lillies?"
"Here," Evelwyn said, handing her one. Lei smiled with appreciation.
"Amedon, they're perfect," Lei complimented. "Did...she teach you?"
"Yes," Amedon replied, seeming to understand her question while Evelwyn glanced in confusion from one to the other. The two shared a secret that they kept from her, and nothing irritated Evelwyn more than secrets.
"How did you know?" Evelwyn demanded, her tone sharp.
"How was your trip?" Lei asked, avoiding the question. "I sense that Amedon has improved? You don't look in much disarray. Relatively speaking, of course."
"The trip was better," Evelwyn admitted. "Smoother, though I still feel dizzy and a bit ill."
"Magical transportation will always have its flaws," Lei said with a smile.
"YOUR spells always work out perfectly," Evelwyn pointed out. Shrugging, Lei turned.
"Ah, but I'm born with that," Lei said humbly, leading them to her tower. "As you well know? Now, I have a wonderful new set of books Gemadir Hèrawyn found for me. I've been reading them, and...well, experimenting."
"Transmogrification??" Evelwyn asked excitedly. "So you can turn me and Amedon into toads after all??" Laughing, Lei shook her head and opened the hidden door in the side of the tower, turning a series of carvings and sliding a large panel. With a groan, a door slid open.
"No. Remember that one time I took you to see Gemadir Hèrawyn, and she gave you that very small mirror? The one with runes painted onto the surface?"
"Oh, that," Evelwyn said with disappointment. "I don't see the point in that. I can't see my reflection, so why bother with a mirror like that?"
"Don't worry. You're still as beautiful as ever," Amedon teased. "Though...is that a gray hair?"
"Gray hair? What gray hair?" Evelwyn cried in mock-panic, touching a hand to her black locks. "Don't make fun, Amedon. One day we'll all have gray hair."
"Not if I can help it," Lei said. "I'll find us all a potion for immortality."
"And we will live forever as the three inseparable friends who cheated death!" Evelwyn said enthusiastically. "How IS that potion coming along?"
"Horribly," Lei said glumly. "After all, no one has ever done it before, and I'm beginning to see why. Now, about that mirror. It was a magic mirror."
"It was? Can it show me the future?" Evelwyn asked excitedly.
"Didn't Gemadir Hèrawyn tell you?" Lei frowned. "She wouldn't tell me. Anyway, afterwards I asked her about magic mirrors, and she gave me so many books on them!"
They trudged up the staircase. Evelwyn found it very hard to keep up with Amedon and Lei, both of them having notably longer legs than she did. Evelwyn found herself counting the steps as usual. She always lost count somewhere after seven hundred. The folly of this tower was that it really only had one room, at its very peak, but the room was a very large one. The impractability of the tower made was caused it to be so unused. In fact, since Lei's family was first given the tower, over nine hundred years ago by "Lovely Queen Ra," Lei had been the only one to inhabit it.
"I've started on my first magic mirror," Lei announced proudly when they entered the room. Evelwyn gasped. In the center of the room was perhaps the largest mirror ever she had ever laid her eyes on. It was close to fifteen men across and twenty men high.
"It's...rather large," Amedon commented.
"Large? It's...it's so...Lei! This is...silly! What are you going to do with this mirror??" Evelwyn demanded. "Tell me that! There is no use for a mirror this large!"
"It's a magic mirror," Lei protested. "Well...not yet, but it will be. Right now it's just an ordinary mirror."
"What sort of magic mirror do you plan to do?" Amedon asked curiously. "Why one of this size?"
"Because..." Lei hesitated. "I don't know why. Will you believe me if I say intuition?"
"Did you have another vision? One where some faerie godmother orders you to create a mirror the size of a ship? Or perhaps you received a message from the gods, saying a big mirror will come in handy one day?" Evelwyn asked sarcastically.
"It will," Lei insisted. "You will see, Evel."
Chapter Fifteen~
The summer came quickly, and though Cel usually hated such warm weather, summer in the mountains was nice. The air was still cool, but everything burst into full bloom. The greenery of the towering trees provided plenty of shade when it did grow a little warm.
Cel became an expert fisherman. Suprisingly, the Dwarves never seemed to tire of it. Rather, the more fish Cel caught, the more easy-tempered the Children of the Mines seemed to be. Soon Cel learned to fish all down the river and discovered other useful pools and creeks with different varieties of creatures.
Occasionally Sen would join her and they would sit by the water, dangling their feet in coolness and enjoying the plentiful breezes. He spoke no more of himself than he ever had before, but Cel grew to enjoy simply his presence and missed his company when he was gone. During their fishing moments, they rarely spoke, so as to not scare the fish, but the companionable silence was enough.
When she had spare time, Cel learned of herbs and healing from Gaelan, who proved to be a great teacher and advisor. Once she mended Adon's broken arm, and he commented, "Princess, ye've got magic touch." It healed perfectly, and Gaelan deemed her better than any royal healer.
Strangely she and Kistur grew to tolerate each other very well and even began to like each other. On a particularly hot summer day Kistur fetched for her a wild foal. The skittish creature calmed to Cel's touch. She named the beauty Vortnethismi, which was Minen for "Child of mighty Vortneth." Cel raised and cared for Vortnethismi competently and lovingly. Adon built a large paddock for Vortnethismi near the small lake a few miles downriver.
Summer, for the first time, flew by. Fall came in a flurry of leaves and falling gold. Sen returned every day from his hunts with less and less to show for his work. His fishing visits were even rarer than before.
With fall came more chores in furious attempts to prepare for the coming winter. Cel was required to catch twice as many fish. Some were salted and others were dried, much to her disgust. Everything from Leander's garden was harvested and stored.
At last winter arrived. An entire year had passed and though she was closer to her new "family," she knew no more about their daytime business than she had before, and they seemed intent on keeping it that way. Cel was aware that they mined in the nearby mountains, but mined what?
Then came her birthday. In the fourth week of winter, the Dwarves surprised her at breakfast (which Leander had lavishly cooked) with gifts. Cel hadn't expected them to know her birthday, but the Children of the Mines kindly reminded her that she was the princess, and it was in their best interests to know the businesses of their neighboring rulers.
"Open mine firs'!" Adon boomed, handing her a plainly wrapped parcel. It was large, round, and the strings were knotted several times.
"I have no idea what it could be," Cel said honestly, picking uselessly at the knots. "Help, please?" Leander gently took the parcel from her and tore in open, handing it back to her with his usual bland expression.
"What ye think, Princess?" Adon asked nervously. It was all Cel could do to keep from laughing aloud. Adon had given her a cooking pot! With a beautiful wooden handle engraved with swimming fish, the message was clear: cook more fish.
"It's delightful!" Cel said and gave him a quick hug. Adon beamed, looking even more handsome than usual. Kistur's gift was not wrapped. He gently placed it on the table before her without ceremony. A beautiful, rearing stallion returned her gaze. The wooden figurine was incredibly lifelike, painted and carved with painstaking care. Black hair sprouted from the wood as the tail and mane. The only oddity of the horse was the sparkling blue jewels, meant to be eyes.
"Was a family heirloom fo' years," Kistur explained gruffly. "No one much wanted it but me. See, we Children o' the Mines don't care much fo' horses, 'cept that I do. Ah, little Blue-Eyes there I treasured. Me da said was firs' made by some wood carver from a Human village. Now Blue-Eyes is yurs."
"Blue-Eyes. A fitting name," Cel commented, stroking the shiny hairs. Kistur shook his head.
"Nay. His name's Ruyea."
"I'll treasure Ruyea, I promise," said Cel honestly. "Thank you." Grunting an inaudible reply, he sat. Gaelan, eyes sparkling, slid a small package into her hands. It was wrapped with beautiful paper with pretty designs. Carefully she removed the wrapping, so as to keep it fully intact.
She could smell the earth through the wrapping, the wonderful smell of fertile soil and plants. The wooden box was shiny red, and engraved in gold lettering was her name, though mispelled, and Cel frowned. It read, "Icèlæni Béyänè" in a rounded, thick script.
"My name is misspelled," Cel said in her politest voice. "It's I-c-e-l-y-n-a-i B-i-a-n-c-a."
"In Human form," Gaelan said, with the barest hint of scorn in his voice. "Any fool can tell that yer name is o' Faerie origin."
"Oh," Cel answered. "Faerie origin?"
"Aye. 'Of White Snow' or 'From Purest Snow' or even 'The Snow White' in the Faerie Tongue," Gaelan explained in his wise voice. "'Bianca' be the ignorant form 'o 'Béyänè' and Icelynai...why, lass, Icelynai isn even a Human name at all! If I recall right, Icèlæni Béyänè was the name of the Snow Queen near eight hundred years back."
"So this belonged to HER?" Cel ran fingers over the carvings in the side of the box in awe. There were thick and thin swirls, elegant in their simplicity. Fancy whirls and loops joined the waves, painted in with silver and gold. There was only one jewel, a tiny sapphire winking at her from the lid of the box.
"Mayhap. The Children of the Mines an' the People weren't much friendly. An' the key," Gaelan continued, handing her a tiny golden key. The box opened easily to the tiny key, and Cel swung it open to see...medicinal tools and herbs.
"So ye can heal whenever the need arises," Gaelan explained.
"Now, 'tis time for my gift," Bazek said loudly before Cel could thank Gaelan. "What d'ye wish for, lass? We've a large treasure, and ye can choose somethin' if ye wish it so."
"Ah, King Basilius...I've no need for jewelery," Cel said humbly. "Not when I've such a family to care for me." Bazek laughed.
"Who said 'twas jewelry? Nay, childling! The Children of the Mines have far better treasures! Would ye like a magic chest, to open with whatever gowns you desire? Or do ye fancy a magic ring, or a potion for power? A flying carpet, or a looking-glass?"
"How do you HAVE these things?" Cel asked. The king chuckled.
"The spoils of war, childling. We rid these mountains o' dragons years ago. What other creatures but dragons would possess such a hoard?"
"True," Cel admitted. "But what need have I for such gifts? I--"
"Lass, lass!" Bazek cried. "Name yer choice of gift else I choose for ye! No need t' be humble now."
"Well..." Cel bit her lip, pondering. Having many gowns didn't interest her much, nor did power. The magic ring and looking-glass seemed nice, but...oh, a flying carpet! She grinned at the thought. Perhaps she could go out for a moonlight ride?
"What of crowns for yer royalty?" Bazek continued. "Or a weapon? We've fine battle-axes, and many w--"
"A flying carpet," she told him. "I would like a flying carpet."
"Why a flying carpet??" Adon demanded, aghast. "Wit yer head up in the clouds when yer feet should be firmly in the ground??"
"Wouldn't you want to see the world like the birds do? Feel the clouds? I would like to catch a cloud. Mayhap I'll fetch one down for you, Adon, and spin a shirt for you from it!!"
"A flying carpet then!" Bazek concluded with a laugh. "Sen, fetch the princess a flyin' carpet from our treasury. The best, Sen!"
"Nay, the smallest," Cel corrected. "One just my size, if it's not too much trouble."
"O' course not, lass! 'Tis yer day o' birth, an' if we can't find ye a proper gift, what hosts are we??" Bazek questioned. Sen bowed slightly before slipping through a side door of the banquet hall.
Now Cel glanced nervously to Leander. His behavior towards her had not changed and he was, she suspected, still judging the amount of "Human-ness" in her. Would he, too, give her a gift?
"Happy birthday, Daughter o' the Sun," he said pleasantly. "What sort of gift do ye want? Truly? An' what sort o' gift to ye expect from me? Be honest, Child under the Sun."
"Truly?" Cel was surprised by his questions. "Truly I expected nothing from you, and I deserve nothing from you since my earlier rudeness."
The last thing Cel expected from him was his hearty laugh. She frowned even further as his lavender eyes twinkled in good mirth. He had not looked that way since a year ago, when he spent a morning with her in the kitchen.
"Ah, Princess. Gifts aren't given 'cause they're deserved. They're given out o' goodwill. Though I must say now..." Leander paused, and his smile left his face. "'Twas perhaps childish o' me to behave so?"
"Perhaps?" Cel repeated, still confused.
"Though I still bear a grudge. D'ye feel yerself superior to us, we who hide in darkness? D'ye scorn us, as yer people scorn us? Aye, as we've been named 'Dwarves' out o' yer contempt?"
"I never felt superior," Cel said softly. "And I called you a Dwarf out of habit. It was...'twas how I was taught, and I said it before I could think? I do not hold you in contempt."
"Then I'll believe ye. Ye've yet to answer my other question," Leander reminded. "Truly, what do ye wish for? From me, or from any other?"
"From you, I wish for friendship," said Cel instantly. "Though what I wish for most is not yours to give."
"Then friendship'll be my gift!" Leander exclaimed and clasped her hands in his. "On yer birth-day, Leander o' the Children o' the Mines swears to be Icèlæni Béyänè's hearth-brother, companion to call on whenever in need, an' he'll be loyal to his hearth-sister unto death. To her life, his is bound."
"Unamtothn," the others murmured under their breath.
"Thank you," Cel whispered. That was the best gift you could have given, she added silently, for she understood completely the strength and courage behind his vow as Leander bowed to her and then returned to his seat.
The solemn momented was halted by a strange sweeping sound.
"Here is the best carpet," Sen announced as he dragged in a rolled rug. With a grunt he managed to pull the dusty object into the hall and dropped it at Cel's feet, kicking it open so that it unfurled neatly.
The carpet looked very old indeed, and Cel doubted that it would actually fly. In fact, the carpet looked so old that Cel couldn't see the original design; maybe it had once been a dark blue color. The edges of the rug were unraveling, and there were tiny scorch marks and a dark stain.
"The BEST carpet?" Cel asked incredulously. Sen nodded grimly.
"Aye. The other ones had large holes in them or were threadbare. Unless you want an un-flying carpet, this is all," Sen said, shrugging his apology.
"Try it this afternoon?" Bazek suggested. "After lunch?"
"Good idea!" Adon said enthusiastically and clapped Cel on the back. The force of the blow made her gasp, and he instantly apologized, rubbing the wounded area.
"I've yet to give my gift," Sen said quietly. He waited patiently for Cel to turn her attention to him before he carefully slipped his necklace over his head and fastented it securely around her neck. Tucking her chin as close to her chest as she could, Cel could glimpse the silver of the chain and the pendant. It was a tiny emerald, no larger than her thumbnail, carved in the shape of a maple leaf.
"Nay, Sen!" Kistur burst. "Ye can't give her that! 'Tis all ye've left of yer parents!!"
Cel gasped and tried to untie the necklace. "Sen, I can't take this!"
He stopper her movements with his slender fingers. "Nay, Princess. Take it, for you mean much to me." Sen smiled. "Besides...it is a woman's necklace."
"She still can't have it!" Kistur insisted. Cel nodded vigorously.
"It is mine to give." Turning to Cel, his expression was that of dismay. "Do you not like it?"
"Well...yes," Cel admitted.
"Then it is yours."
Chapter Sixteen~
SLIVITT PROVENCE
The prince of the Children of Snow scanned the horizon. Their time was coming. He could feel it, like a cool fluid in his veins, a sensation that caused him to tremble in excitement. It had been near ten years since his people had flown south of the Slivitt Mountains for the wintertime; the winters had been growing warmer in the south, and it was not safe for them.
This winter would be hard on the Children of the Sun, but an oppurtunity for the Children of the Snow. Many blizzards were to come, he could sense. Yes, it was time that they once again migrated.
The icy wings on his back, bare and blue, drooped at the thought of the long flight ahead. Yet his heart began to pound. South again! South again after so long an exile in the Slivitt Mountains!
Of course, it wasn't really an exile, for the Slivitt Mountains was their home. Still, the Children of the Snow were nomadic people in ancestry, and they did not take kindly to reamaining in one place for nearly a decade. They had grown belligerent and angry with each other in their exile, fights occuring as often as the wind blew.
The prince held out his right hand. The center finger bore a black ring, ebony against the blue of his skin. It looked to be a shiny iron ring. The Son of Snow brought the hand closer to his face. No, the ring was not iron but in truth several strands of black hair, tightly wound together to form the ring around his finger.
'My prince?' a breathy voice asked tentatively in his native tongue. The prince sighed and glanced to his seneschal, his reply the weary smile upon his face.
'We shall go south again,' he answered. 'The Long Migration. Prepare our people, Ciak. I intend to leave before the week is over.'
'My prince...' the seneschal said disapprovingly. 'The South is too warm, and our people cannot fly so far.'
'Not this year, Ciak,' the prince told him. 'This year the blizzards will return to the south, and we with them. Our people can fly that far, as in my parents' time it was customary to migrate every winter.'
'Your parents are still alive,' the seneschal reminded sharply. 'Do not speak of them as if it were not so.'
'Yes, but their time has passed,' responded the prince to the comment.
'They are still the reigning king and queen,' continued Ciak. 'As you are still only the prince. Unless you intend for them to die in the migration...'
'Ciak!' his prince cried. 'How could you even think that way? My parents are strong!! They will survive the migration, as they have survived the migrations of the past!' He softened his voice. 'Yet they are king and queen in name only, Ciak, and you know this.'
'Ai,' said the seneschal heavily. 'And you've ruled us well for the past three years, my prince.'
'Thank you, Ciak. It means much to me.' Sighing, he began to twist his ring around his finger, as was his habit. 'Please do not question my judgement?'
'I supposed I will not, for now.' The seneschal eyed the ring. 'Do you still remember her?'
'Who?' asked the prince in confusion. Chuckling, Ciak touched the ring on his prince's middle finger.
'Her, of course. The one Human female. I believe you ran off often to meet her, in your childhood. Your parents disapproved, did they not?'
'Ai,' agreed the prince, then peered at Ciak suspiciously. 'How do you know? Even my parents didn't know where I always ran off to, though they were quite angry with me for disappearing so often.'
'They asked me to follow you,' replied the seneschal easily.
'Ciak!!'
'I was only doing my duty,' Ciak chuckled. 'Was she a good friend to you?'
'The best,' the prince said at once. 'Though it saddens me that I can barely call to mind the image of her face. I had many fond memories.'
'And you do not remember them?'
'Only some,' admitted his prince. 'And even those are beginning to escape my memory. I find it harder and harder to recall her voice, though I remember that it was always light with laughter. It has been nine years, I believe? Perhaps ten, even?'
'Do you think she would remember you?' asked Ciak gently.
'I hope so. It is why I long so much to return South.'
"Where is this place?" Ranita politely asked the innkeeper. He was a kind man in appearance, short and stout with a bald spot and a face created for laughter.
"We be the village of Salpas. Do ya wish to stay 'ere for the night?" he asked as he filled several tankards for the nearby men. Ranita shook her head.
"I've not enough money, sir," she told him. He gave her a knowing look before handing the men their drinks. Then he leaned closer to her.
"Don't let anyone know," he whispered, "but I'd be willing to let ya stay here for free. You look like ya haven't slept under a decent roof for weeks."
"Sir, I couldna ask that of ya," Ranita answered, her voice just as low. Still, her heart sang with hope. "Perhaps...I could work for my stay? I can clean, or cook, or do laundry?"
"We are a bit short on maids," the innkeeper said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "An' there's plenty of space up in the loft, if ya'd be willin'?"
"At least a loft has a roof," Ranita answered with a laugh. The innkeeper chuckled and patted her hand.
"I be Willem. An' as of now, you be the Crazy Cove's newest maid," he told her. "We're also a bit short on money, so the pay'll be small, but you'll be fed, clothed, and sheltered in stead."
"The best deal I've ever had," Ranita said. "The Crazy Cove, eh? Who's idea was that?"
"Me wife's," Willem said with a laugh. "She always was a bit nutty. Though I love 'er with all of my inkeepin' heart. Been married for near twenty years now."
"Congratulations," Ranita said politely, smiling. "Now, just outta curiosity, why're ya short on money this winter? You seem busy enough." Indeed, the inn was bustling with diners, though most were strangely quiet.
"Eh, the Dwarves have yet to come," the innkeeper said grimly. "See, in Salpas, we deal with the dwarves closely. Have for nigh a century. This year, they haven't come yet for the trade. Hurts us, see, since many o' the people here depend on their trade."
"Perhaps they're delayed," Ranita suggested.
"Perhaps," Willem said doubtfully, then seemed to shake himself. "And what be your name, maid?" he asked. Ranita laughed.
"Ol' Ranita," she said honestly. "Or Ranita Leontine Smithee, the blacksmith's daughter."
"Ranita Leontine Smithee, a hearty welcome from the Crazy Cove! Now, what'll be your first paid meal here? Perhaps ya'd like filling stew?"
"Yes!" Ranita cried. "Stew, stew, stew!"
"Mirror, Mirror, on the wall--" Queen Minerva began, only to be cut off by Perita.
"Who is the fairest of them all," she finished. "Well, not you, so why do you care? In fact, why do you care so much about who's the 'fairest of them all?' And your query is flawed. The 'fairest of them all' could mean the fairest of all plants. What if I were to answer, 'That leaf over there is the fairest of them all?' What then?"
"Magic mirror on the wall," Queen Minerva growled between gritted teeth, "Who is the fairest woman of them all?"
"Woman, eh?" Perita grinned. "Well, considering that you're an old crone--"
"An old crone!!" Queen Minerva shrieked. "I am NOT an old crone!!"
"Nearing sixty isn't old?" Perita mocked. "Why can't you just accept that you are no longer beautiful and leave it at that?"
"Fiend!" Queen Minerva shrieked. "You devil! You demon! You wicked spinster!"
"Now, is that the proper way to treat a magic mirror?" Perita asked, her brow furrowing. "The answer to your question is still the same as last time."
A strangled noise came from the queen's throat as she glared at her reflection. "Why? Tell me mirror, what is the secret to beauty?"
"Why do you care?" Perita asked irritably. "It's not as if it will ever serve any purpose, anyway. It's not as if you could actually DO anything with--"
Perita froze as the smile spread on Queen Minerva's aging face. "Ah, but my ignorant mirror, there is. My all-knowing Perita, do you recall a certain treasure known as the Evelwyn Gift?"
"Mere legend," Perita snapped. "It never existed."
"I believe you are lying to me, my mirror," Queen Minerva said smoothly. "The legend says that Druis Evelwyn of Mornth was given a gift from a suitor. It was a small chest that, her suitor declared, could only be opened by the 'fairest of them all.'"
"Even if it did exist, the chest would have rotted away long ago," Perita declared. "And if not, you would never be able to find it."
"I have long taken comfort in my beauty," Queen Minerva continued. "Since even my birth others would tell me that I was the most beautiful creature alive. And when I first heard the story of the Evelwyn Gift, I was destined to have it."
"No one knows what's in the chest," Perita pointed out. "And if you wanted it so badly, why did you wait until now?"
"Elementary, Perita-dear," Queen Minerva sighed.
"'When the moon the covers sun,
Then the day fated has come.
The lock upon Evelwyn's Gift
The Fairest of Them All shall lift.
Inside that chest lies a great power
Only to be used that same hour.'"
"A child's rhyme," Perita insisted.
"'When moon covers sun.' I have studied the sky for a long time now. The fated day will come this very winter." Queen Minerva sat heavily. "I wonder what the 'great power' is? No matter what, I must possess it."
"You seek the power, but you shall never find it," Perita snapped. The queen of Fendel raised graying brows in amusement.
"So you admit that you know what the power is?"
"Of course not!" said her reflection irritably. "No one knows save Evelwyn herself, and she's long gone. I suppose you mean to discover the Gift's location from me?"
"Naturally."
"And that is why you sent your poor husband to Mornth-he all those years ago to find me? To get the Gift? It was not worth the trouble, for I will not tell you."
"Yes, that was one of the reasons why I sent my husband to Mornth-he to find you," Queen Minerva said. "Do you recall the first question I asked you when I had you hung to my wall?"
"The same one you ask every day," Perita grumbled. "Well, at least you don't ask it out of vanity; that's a comfort. Though if I were you, I would've asked for the location of the Gift first, for that is far more important. It's sheer stupidity to wait over thirty years to ask a question that you should've asked from the start."
"Yes, a flaw, I admit," said the queen. "Though if you recall, I was...preoccupied."
"With trying to control your poor husband's mind," Perita said, shaking her head.
"So...My magical mirror on the castle wall, where hidden is Evelwyn's Gift---if hidden at all?"
Part six
Chapter Fourteen~
MORNTH-HE, 149 YEARS EARLIER
Evelwyn had no need for worry, for she was the century-child, born on the first morning of the century. The blessed princess of Mornth had no care, indeed. The daughter of Drui MeNatth was free to spend her spare time as she wished, for what could possibly harm her, now that she had the goodwill of the gods?
Through the forests of Morth-he Evelwyn ran, her dainty slippers soon muddy and her long hair filled with twigs and leaves. Evelwyn would hardly contain her excitement. At last she reached the stream and stood, panting. Where was he? Why was he so late today? Cupping her hands, she brought water to her face and drank. The coolness was so wonderful.
At last she saw him. Amedon, son of a miller, emerged from the dark forest on the other bank, grinning with relief when he spotted her. Evelwyn laughed happily. He had not forgotten!
"Amedon, cross the river," Evelwyn said. Amedon kneeled to drink the clean water. When he finished he grinned, warm brown eyes sparkling.
"Ai, Evel, why am I always the one to cross?" he asked, feigning annoyance.
"Because I am the one wearing a dress," Evelwyn responded practically. "Now come." With a large show that involved much splashing, Amedon crossed the stream. When Evelwyn and Amedon stood on the same bank, they embraced.
"Evel, it has been much too long," Amedon whispered into her hair. She nodded in agreement.
"Ai, but I have had trouble escaping their plans," she replied. Amedon clutched her tighter.
"You promised that you would not speak of such things," he reminded her. "We promised each other," he amended.
"I know." Evelwyn sighed. "Now, where are my flowers? You said they'd be fire-lillies this time! If you don't have my fire-lillies..."
"I have them," Amedon said with a smile. With a few flourishes, Amedon plucked a triplet of flaming flowers out of the air. Holding them delicately by their black stems, so as to not burn himself, he handed them to an awed Evelwyn.
"I didn't think..." she breathed as she took the flowers from him. The miller's son raised an eyebrow.
"You didn't think I'd keep my word? Or that I couldn't do it? Dear Evel, I thought you had better faith in me than that! It cost me a pretty penny to learn that trick."
"The local witch again?" Evelwyn asked as the twirled the lillies in the air.
"Ai, not her. My mother." He said the last word hesitantly, and it was strange coming from his mouth, a word that he rarely used. Evelwyn glanced up sharply.
"Your mother," she repeated. "Wha--"
"Lei is waiting for us," Amedon interuppted. "She will be angry with us if we are late again, Evel. We'd best hurry else we might be turned into toads."
"She probably wouldn't even notice that we were late," Evelwyn said with an unlady-like snort. "And Lei doesn't know how to turn people into toads. She tried to turn you into one when you messed up her potion, remember?"
"Ai, how could I forget? My skin was warty for months," Amedon laughed. "Now, put the lillies away." One arm held her protectively as he muttered under his breath, "Ymaeni hlumodr!"
Evelwyn felt the familiar sensation of being thrown backward as the forest around them began to spin. As always, her eyes remained open. For fear of being tossed out of the transportation spell, Evelwyn gripped Amedon tightly. They were floating--no, flying--backward through the woods. The trees around them were but a blur of dark green and black.
Finally, when Evelwyn was sure that she was about to lose her lunch, they stopped. She staggered forward. Before her eyes rose the tall tower of her closest friend and relative, who she and Amedon affectionately called Lei. Even after the many times Evelwyn had visited it, the tower still amazed her. The structure rose far above the tall, dark trees of Mornth-he, a beautiful spiraling building that seemed to pierce the sky. It was narrow, with no windows except a large one at the very top. The building was brightly painted and carved with fanciful designs and magical runes. The tower was the hidden gem of Mornth, eons old and yet unknown to anyone but Lei's family, who had owned it since its creation.
"Lei!" Amedon called. "Lei, we are here!"
"With fire-lillies!!" Evelwyn added. "Pretty fire-lillies. I'll give you one if you come out right now!! I'm counting to ten, Lei. One...two...three..."
"No need for fuss." Evelwyn turned to find the source of the voice, and grinned when she saw her cousin standing behind her. "Now, where are those fire-lillies?"
"Here," Evelwyn said, handing her one. Lei smiled with appreciation.
"Amedon, they're perfect," Lei complimented. "Did...she teach you?"
"Yes," Amedon replied, seeming to understand her question while Evelwyn glanced in confusion from one to the other. The two shared a secret that they kept from her, and nothing irritated Evelwyn more than secrets.
"How did you know?" Evelwyn demanded, her tone sharp.
"How was your trip?" Lei asked, avoiding the question. "I sense that Amedon has improved? You don't look in much disarray. Relatively speaking, of course."
"The trip was better," Evelwyn admitted. "Smoother, though I still feel dizzy and a bit ill."
"Magical transportation will always have its flaws," Lei said with a smile.
"YOUR spells always work out perfectly," Evelwyn pointed out. Shrugging, Lei turned.
"Ah, but I'm born with that," Lei said humbly, leading them to her tower. "As you well know? Now, I have a wonderful new set of books Gemadir Hèrawyn found for me. I've been reading them, and...well, experimenting."
"Transmogrification??" Evelwyn asked excitedly. "So you can turn me and Amedon into toads after all??" Laughing, Lei shook her head and opened the hidden door in the side of the tower, turning a series of carvings and sliding a large panel. With a groan, a door slid open.
"No. Remember that one time I took you to see Gemadir Hèrawyn, and she gave you that very small mirror? The one with runes painted onto the surface?"
"Oh, that," Evelwyn said with disappointment. "I don't see the point in that. I can't see my reflection, so why bother with a mirror like that?"
"Don't worry. You're still as beautiful as ever," Amedon teased. "Though...is that a gray hair?"
"Gray hair? What gray hair?" Evelwyn cried in mock-panic, touching a hand to her black locks. "Don't make fun, Amedon. One day we'll all have gray hair."
"Not if I can help it," Lei said. "I'll find us all a potion for immortality."
"And we will live forever as the three inseparable friends who cheated death!" Evelwyn said enthusiastically. "How IS that potion coming along?"
"Horribly," Lei said glumly. "After all, no one has ever done it before, and I'm beginning to see why. Now, about that mirror. It was a magic mirror."
"It was? Can it show me the future?" Evelwyn asked excitedly.
"Didn't Gemadir Hèrawyn tell you?" Lei frowned. "She wouldn't tell me. Anyway, afterwards I asked her about magic mirrors, and she gave me so many books on them!"
They trudged up the staircase. Evelwyn found it very hard to keep up with Amedon and Lei, both of them having notably longer legs than she did. Evelwyn found herself counting the steps as usual. She always lost count somewhere after seven hundred. The folly of this tower was that it really only had one room, at its very peak, but the room was a very large one. The impractability of the tower made was caused it to be so unused. In fact, since Lei's family was first given the tower, over nine hundred years ago by "Lovely Queen Ra," Lei had been the only one to inhabit it.
"I've started on my first magic mirror," Lei announced proudly when they entered the room. Evelwyn gasped. In the center of the room was perhaps the largest mirror ever she had ever laid her eyes on. It was close to fifteen men across and twenty men high.
"It's...rather large," Amedon commented.
"Large? It's...it's so...Lei! This is...silly! What are you going to do with this mirror??" Evelwyn demanded. "Tell me that! There is no use for a mirror this large!"
"It's a magic mirror," Lei protested. "Well...not yet, but it will be. Right now it's just an ordinary mirror."
"What sort of magic mirror do you plan to do?" Amedon asked curiously. "Why one of this size?"
"Because..." Lei hesitated. "I don't know why. Will you believe me if I say intuition?"
"Did you have another vision? One where some faerie godmother orders you to create a mirror the size of a ship? Or perhaps you received a message from the gods, saying a big mirror will come in handy one day?" Evelwyn asked sarcastically.
"It will," Lei insisted. "You will see, Evel."
Chapter Fifteen~
The summer came quickly, and though Cel usually hated such warm weather, summer in the mountains was nice. The air was still cool, but everything burst into full bloom. The greenery of the towering trees provided plenty of shade when it did grow a little warm.
Cel became an expert fisherman. Suprisingly, the Dwarves never seemed to tire of it. Rather, the more fish Cel caught, the more easy-tempered the Children of the Mines seemed to be. Soon Cel learned to fish all down the river and discovered other useful pools and creeks with different varieties of creatures.
Occasionally Sen would join her and they would sit by the water, dangling their feet in coolness and enjoying the plentiful breezes. He spoke no more of himself than he ever had before, but Cel grew to enjoy simply his presence and missed his company when he was gone. During their fishing moments, they rarely spoke, so as to not scare the fish, but the companionable silence was enough.
When she had spare time, Cel learned of herbs and healing from Gaelan, who proved to be a great teacher and advisor. Once she mended Adon's broken arm, and he commented, "Princess, ye've got magic touch." It healed perfectly, and Gaelan deemed her better than any royal healer.
Strangely she and Kistur grew to tolerate each other very well and even began to like each other. On a particularly hot summer day Kistur fetched for her a wild foal. The skittish creature calmed to Cel's touch. She named the beauty Vortnethismi, which was Minen for "Child of mighty Vortneth." Cel raised and cared for Vortnethismi competently and lovingly. Adon built a large paddock for Vortnethismi near the small lake a few miles downriver.
Summer, for the first time, flew by. Fall came in a flurry of leaves and falling gold. Sen returned every day from his hunts with less and less to show for his work. His fishing visits were even rarer than before.
With fall came more chores in furious attempts to prepare for the coming winter. Cel was required to catch twice as many fish. Some were salted and others were dried, much to her disgust. Everything from Leander's garden was harvested and stored.
At last winter arrived. An entire year had passed and though she was closer to her new "family," she knew no more about their daytime business than she had before, and they seemed intent on keeping it that way. Cel was aware that they mined in the nearby mountains, but mined what?
Then came her birthday. In the fourth week of winter, the Dwarves surprised her at breakfast (which Leander had lavishly cooked) with gifts. Cel hadn't expected them to know her birthday, but the Children of the Mines kindly reminded her that she was the princess, and it was in their best interests to know the businesses of their neighboring rulers.
"Open mine firs'!" Adon boomed, handing her a plainly wrapped parcel. It was large, round, and the strings were knotted several times.
"I have no idea what it could be," Cel said honestly, picking uselessly at the knots. "Help, please?" Leander gently took the parcel from her and tore in open, handing it back to her with his usual bland expression.
"What ye think, Princess?" Adon asked nervously. It was all Cel could do to keep from laughing aloud. Adon had given her a cooking pot! With a beautiful wooden handle engraved with swimming fish, the message was clear: cook more fish.
"It's delightful!" Cel said and gave him a quick hug. Adon beamed, looking even more handsome than usual. Kistur's gift was not wrapped. He gently placed it on the table before her without ceremony. A beautiful, rearing stallion returned her gaze. The wooden figurine was incredibly lifelike, painted and carved with painstaking care. Black hair sprouted from the wood as the tail and mane. The only oddity of the horse was the sparkling blue jewels, meant to be eyes.
"Was a family heirloom fo' years," Kistur explained gruffly. "No one much wanted it but me. See, we Children o' the Mines don't care much fo' horses, 'cept that I do. Ah, little Blue-Eyes there I treasured. Me da said was firs' made by some wood carver from a Human village. Now Blue-Eyes is yurs."
"Blue-Eyes. A fitting name," Cel commented, stroking the shiny hairs. Kistur shook his head.
"Nay. His name's Ruyea."
"I'll treasure Ruyea, I promise," said Cel honestly. "Thank you." Grunting an inaudible reply, he sat. Gaelan, eyes sparkling, slid a small package into her hands. It was wrapped with beautiful paper with pretty designs. Carefully she removed the wrapping, so as to keep it fully intact.
She could smell the earth through the wrapping, the wonderful smell of fertile soil and plants. The wooden box was shiny red, and engraved in gold lettering was her name, though mispelled, and Cel frowned. It read, "Icèlæni Béyänè" in a rounded, thick script.
"My name is misspelled," Cel said in her politest voice. "It's I-c-e-l-y-n-a-i B-i-a-n-c-a."
"In Human form," Gaelan said, with the barest hint of scorn in his voice. "Any fool can tell that yer name is o' Faerie origin."
"Oh," Cel answered. "Faerie origin?"
"Aye. 'Of White Snow' or 'From Purest Snow' or even 'The Snow White' in the Faerie Tongue," Gaelan explained in his wise voice. "'Bianca' be the ignorant form 'o 'Béyänè' and Icelynai...why, lass, Icelynai isn even a Human name at all! If I recall right, Icèlæni Béyänè was the name of the Snow Queen near eight hundred years back."
"So this belonged to HER?" Cel ran fingers over the carvings in the side of the box in awe. There were thick and thin swirls, elegant in their simplicity. Fancy whirls and loops joined the waves, painted in with silver and gold. There was only one jewel, a tiny sapphire winking at her from the lid of the box.
"Mayhap. The Children of the Mines an' the People weren't much friendly. An' the key," Gaelan continued, handing her a tiny golden key. The box opened easily to the tiny key, and Cel swung it open to see...medicinal tools and herbs.
"So ye can heal whenever the need arises," Gaelan explained.
"Now, 'tis time for my gift," Bazek said loudly before Cel could thank Gaelan. "What d'ye wish for, lass? We've a large treasure, and ye can choose somethin' if ye wish it so."
"Ah, King Basilius...I've no need for jewelery," Cel said humbly. "Not when I've such a family to care for me." Bazek laughed.
"Who said 'twas jewelry? Nay, childling! The Children of the Mines have far better treasures! Would ye like a magic chest, to open with whatever gowns you desire? Or do ye fancy a magic ring, or a potion for power? A flying carpet, or a looking-glass?"
"How do you HAVE these things?" Cel asked. The king chuckled.
"The spoils of war, childling. We rid these mountains o' dragons years ago. What other creatures but dragons would possess such a hoard?"
"True," Cel admitted. "But what need have I for such gifts? I--"
"Lass, lass!" Bazek cried. "Name yer choice of gift else I choose for ye! No need t' be humble now."
"Well..." Cel bit her lip, pondering. Having many gowns didn't interest her much, nor did power. The magic ring and looking-glass seemed nice, but...oh, a flying carpet! She grinned at the thought. Perhaps she could go out for a moonlight ride?
"What of crowns for yer royalty?" Bazek continued. "Or a weapon? We've fine battle-axes, and many w--"
"A flying carpet," she told him. "I would like a flying carpet."
"Why a flying carpet??" Adon demanded, aghast. "Wit yer head up in the clouds when yer feet should be firmly in the ground??"
"Wouldn't you want to see the world like the birds do? Feel the clouds? I would like to catch a cloud. Mayhap I'll fetch one down for you, Adon, and spin a shirt for you from it!!"
"A flying carpet then!" Bazek concluded with a laugh. "Sen, fetch the princess a flyin' carpet from our treasury. The best, Sen!"
"Nay, the smallest," Cel corrected. "One just my size, if it's not too much trouble."
"O' course not, lass! 'Tis yer day o' birth, an' if we can't find ye a proper gift, what hosts are we??" Bazek questioned. Sen bowed slightly before slipping through a side door of the banquet hall.
Now Cel glanced nervously to Leander. His behavior towards her had not changed and he was, she suspected, still judging the amount of "Human-ness" in her. Would he, too, give her a gift?
"Happy birthday, Daughter o' the Sun," he said pleasantly. "What sort of gift do ye want? Truly? An' what sort o' gift to ye expect from me? Be honest, Child under the Sun."
"Truly?" Cel was surprised by his questions. "Truly I expected nothing from you, and I deserve nothing from you since my earlier rudeness."
The last thing Cel expected from him was his hearty laugh. She frowned even further as his lavender eyes twinkled in good mirth. He had not looked that way since a year ago, when he spent a morning with her in the kitchen.
"Ah, Princess. Gifts aren't given 'cause they're deserved. They're given out o' goodwill. Though I must say now..." Leander paused, and his smile left his face. "'Twas perhaps childish o' me to behave so?"
"Perhaps?" Cel repeated, still confused.
"Though I still bear a grudge. D'ye feel yerself superior to us, we who hide in darkness? D'ye scorn us, as yer people scorn us? Aye, as we've been named 'Dwarves' out o' yer contempt?"
"I never felt superior," Cel said softly. "And I called you a Dwarf out of habit. It was...'twas how I was taught, and I said it before I could think? I do not hold you in contempt."
"Then I'll believe ye. Ye've yet to answer my other question," Leander reminded. "Truly, what do ye wish for? From me, or from any other?"
"From you, I wish for friendship," said Cel instantly. "Though what I wish for most is not yours to give."
"Then friendship'll be my gift!" Leander exclaimed and clasped her hands in his. "On yer birth-day, Leander o' the Children o' the Mines swears to be Icèlæni Béyänè's hearth-brother, companion to call on whenever in need, an' he'll be loyal to his hearth-sister unto death. To her life, his is bound."
"Unamtothn," the others murmured under their breath.
"Thank you," Cel whispered. That was the best gift you could have given, she added silently, for she understood completely the strength and courage behind his vow as Leander bowed to her and then returned to his seat.
The solemn momented was halted by a strange sweeping sound.
"Here is the best carpet," Sen announced as he dragged in a rolled rug. With a grunt he managed to pull the dusty object into the hall and dropped it at Cel's feet, kicking it open so that it unfurled neatly.
The carpet looked very old indeed, and Cel doubted that it would actually fly. In fact, the carpet looked so old that Cel couldn't see the original design; maybe it had once been a dark blue color. The edges of the rug were unraveling, and there were tiny scorch marks and a dark stain.
"The BEST carpet?" Cel asked incredulously. Sen nodded grimly.
"Aye. The other ones had large holes in them or were threadbare. Unless you want an un-flying carpet, this is all," Sen said, shrugging his apology.
"Try it this afternoon?" Bazek suggested. "After lunch?"
"Good idea!" Adon said enthusiastically and clapped Cel on the back. The force of the blow made her gasp, and he instantly apologized, rubbing the wounded area.
"I've yet to give my gift," Sen said quietly. He waited patiently for Cel to turn her attention to him before he carefully slipped his necklace over his head and fastented it securely around her neck. Tucking her chin as close to her chest as she could, Cel could glimpse the silver of the chain and the pendant. It was a tiny emerald, no larger than her thumbnail, carved in the shape of a maple leaf.
"Nay, Sen!" Kistur burst. "Ye can't give her that! 'Tis all ye've left of yer parents!!"
Cel gasped and tried to untie the necklace. "Sen, I can't take this!"
He stopper her movements with his slender fingers. "Nay, Princess. Take it, for you mean much to me." Sen smiled. "Besides...it is a woman's necklace."
"She still can't have it!" Kistur insisted. Cel nodded vigorously.
"It is mine to give." Turning to Cel, his expression was that of dismay. "Do you not like it?"
"Well...yes," Cel admitted.
"Then it is yours."
Chapter Sixteen~
SLIVITT PROVENCE
The prince of the Children of Snow scanned the horizon. Their time was coming. He could feel it, like a cool fluid in his veins, a sensation that caused him to tremble in excitement. It had been near ten years since his people had flown south of the Slivitt Mountains for the wintertime; the winters had been growing warmer in the south, and it was not safe for them.
This winter would be hard on the Children of the Sun, but an oppurtunity for the Children of the Snow. Many blizzards were to come, he could sense. Yes, it was time that they once again migrated.
The icy wings on his back, bare and blue, drooped at the thought of the long flight ahead. Yet his heart began to pound. South again! South again after so long an exile in the Slivitt Mountains!
Of course, it wasn't really an exile, for the Slivitt Mountains was their home. Still, the Children of the Snow were nomadic people in ancestry, and they did not take kindly to reamaining in one place for nearly a decade. They had grown belligerent and angry with each other in their exile, fights occuring as often as the wind blew.
The prince held out his right hand. The center finger bore a black ring, ebony against the blue of his skin. It looked to be a shiny iron ring. The Son of Snow brought the hand closer to his face. No, the ring was not iron but in truth several strands of black hair, tightly wound together to form the ring around his finger.
'My prince?' a breathy voice asked tentatively in his native tongue. The prince sighed and glanced to his seneschal, his reply the weary smile upon his face.
'We shall go south again,' he answered. 'The Long Migration. Prepare our people, Ciak. I intend to leave before the week is over.'
'My prince...' the seneschal said disapprovingly. 'The South is too warm, and our people cannot fly so far.'
'Not this year, Ciak,' the prince told him. 'This year the blizzards will return to the south, and we with them. Our people can fly that far, as in my parents' time it was customary to migrate every winter.'
'Your parents are still alive,' the seneschal reminded sharply. 'Do not speak of them as if it were not so.'
'Yes, but their time has passed,' responded the prince to the comment.
'They are still the reigning king and queen,' continued Ciak. 'As you are still only the prince. Unless you intend for them to die in the migration...'
'Ciak!' his prince cried. 'How could you even think that way? My parents are strong!! They will survive the migration, as they have survived the migrations of the past!' He softened his voice. 'Yet they are king and queen in name only, Ciak, and you know this.'
'Ai,' said the seneschal heavily. 'And you've ruled us well for the past three years, my prince.'
'Thank you, Ciak. It means much to me.' Sighing, he began to twist his ring around his finger, as was his habit. 'Please do not question my judgement?'
'I supposed I will not, for now.' The seneschal eyed the ring. 'Do you still remember her?'
'Who?' asked the prince in confusion. Chuckling, Ciak touched the ring on his prince's middle finger.
'Her, of course. The one Human female. I believe you ran off often to meet her, in your childhood. Your parents disapproved, did they not?'
'Ai,' agreed the prince, then peered at Ciak suspiciously. 'How do you know? Even my parents didn't know where I always ran off to, though they were quite angry with me for disappearing so often.'
'They asked me to follow you,' replied the seneschal easily.
'Ciak!!'
'I was only doing my duty,' Ciak chuckled. 'Was she a good friend to you?'
'The best,' the prince said at once. 'Though it saddens me that I can barely call to mind the image of her face. I had many fond memories.'
'And you do not remember them?'
'Only some,' admitted his prince. 'And even those are beginning to escape my memory. I find it harder and harder to recall her voice, though I remember that it was always light with laughter. It has been nine years, I believe? Perhaps ten, even?'
'Do you think she would remember you?' asked Ciak gently.
'I hope so. It is why I long so much to return South.'
"Where is this place?" Ranita politely asked the innkeeper. He was a kind man in appearance, short and stout with a bald spot and a face created for laughter.
"We be the village of Salpas. Do ya wish to stay 'ere for the night?" he asked as he filled several tankards for the nearby men. Ranita shook her head.
"I've not enough money, sir," she told him. He gave her a knowing look before handing the men their drinks. Then he leaned closer to her.
"Don't let anyone know," he whispered, "but I'd be willing to let ya stay here for free. You look like ya haven't slept under a decent roof for weeks."
"Sir, I couldna ask that of ya," Ranita answered, her voice just as low. Still, her heart sang with hope. "Perhaps...I could work for my stay? I can clean, or cook, or do laundry?"
"We are a bit short on maids," the innkeeper said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "An' there's plenty of space up in the loft, if ya'd be willin'?"
"At least a loft has a roof," Ranita answered with a laugh. The innkeeper chuckled and patted her hand.
"I be Willem. An' as of now, you be the Crazy Cove's newest maid," he told her. "We're also a bit short on money, so the pay'll be small, but you'll be fed, clothed, and sheltered in stead."
"The best deal I've ever had," Ranita said. "The Crazy Cove, eh? Who's idea was that?"
"Me wife's," Willem said with a laugh. "She always was a bit nutty. Though I love 'er with all of my inkeepin' heart. Been married for near twenty years now."
"Congratulations," Ranita said politely, smiling. "Now, just outta curiosity, why're ya short on money this winter? You seem busy enough." Indeed, the inn was bustling with diners, though most were strangely quiet.
"Eh, the Dwarves have yet to come," the innkeeper said grimly. "See, in Salpas, we deal with the dwarves closely. Have for nigh a century. This year, they haven't come yet for the trade. Hurts us, see, since many o' the people here depend on their trade."
"Perhaps they're delayed," Ranita suggested.
"Perhaps," Willem said doubtfully, then seemed to shake himself. "And what be your name, maid?" he asked. Ranita laughed.
"Ol' Ranita," she said honestly. "Or Ranita Leontine Smithee, the blacksmith's daughter."
"Ranita Leontine Smithee, a hearty welcome from the Crazy Cove! Now, what'll be your first paid meal here? Perhaps ya'd like filling stew?"
"Yes!" Ranita cried. "Stew, stew, stew!"
"Mirror, Mirror, on the wall--" Queen Minerva began, only to be cut off by Perita.
"Who is the fairest of them all," she finished. "Well, not you, so why do you care? In fact, why do you care so much about who's the 'fairest of them all?' And your query is flawed. The 'fairest of them all' could mean the fairest of all plants. What if I were to answer, 'That leaf over there is the fairest of them all?' What then?"
"Magic mirror on the wall," Queen Minerva growled between gritted teeth, "Who is the fairest woman of them all?"
"Woman, eh?" Perita grinned. "Well, considering that you're an old crone--"
"An old crone!!" Queen Minerva shrieked. "I am NOT an old crone!!"
"Nearing sixty isn't old?" Perita mocked. "Why can't you just accept that you are no longer beautiful and leave it at that?"
"Fiend!" Queen Minerva shrieked. "You devil! You demon! You wicked spinster!"
"Now, is that the proper way to treat a magic mirror?" Perita asked, her brow furrowing. "The answer to your question is still the same as last time."
A strangled noise came from the queen's throat as she glared at her reflection. "Why? Tell me mirror, what is the secret to beauty?"
"Why do you care?" Perita asked irritably. "It's not as if it will ever serve any purpose, anyway. It's not as if you could actually DO anything with--"
Perita froze as the smile spread on Queen Minerva's aging face. "Ah, but my ignorant mirror, there is. My all-knowing Perita, do you recall a certain treasure known as the Evelwyn Gift?"
"Mere legend," Perita snapped. "It never existed."
"I believe you are lying to me, my mirror," Queen Minerva said smoothly. "The legend says that Druis Evelwyn of Mornth was given a gift from a suitor. It was a small chest that, her suitor declared, could only be opened by the 'fairest of them all.'"
"Even if it did exist, the chest would have rotted away long ago," Perita declared. "And if not, you would never be able to find it."
"I have long taken comfort in my beauty," Queen Minerva continued. "Since even my birth others would tell me that I was the most beautiful creature alive. And when I first heard the story of the Evelwyn Gift, I was destined to have it."
"No one knows what's in the chest," Perita pointed out. "And if you wanted it so badly, why did you wait until now?"
"Elementary, Perita-dear," Queen Minerva sighed.
"'When the moon the covers sun,
Then the day fated has come.
The lock upon Evelwyn's Gift
The Fairest of Them All shall lift.
Inside that chest lies a great power
Only to be used that same hour.'"
"A child's rhyme," Perita insisted.
"'When moon covers sun.' I have studied the sky for a long time now. The fated day will come this very winter." Queen Minerva sat heavily. "I wonder what the 'great power' is? No matter what, I must possess it."
"You seek the power, but you shall never find it," Perita snapped. The queen of Fendel raised graying brows in amusement.
"So you admit that you know what the power is?"
"Of course not!" said her reflection irritably. "No one knows save Evelwyn herself, and she's long gone. I suppose you mean to discover the Gift's location from me?"
"Naturally."
"And that is why you sent your poor husband to Mornth-he all those years ago to find me? To get the Gift? It was not worth the trouble, for I will not tell you."
"Yes, that was one of the reasons why I sent my husband to Mornth-he to find you," Queen Minerva said. "Do you recall the first question I asked you when I had you hung to my wall?"
"The same one you ask every day," Perita grumbled. "Well, at least you don't ask it out of vanity; that's a comfort. Though if I were you, I would've asked for the location of the Gift first, for that is far more important. It's sheer stupidity to wait over thirty years to ask a question that you should've asked from the start."
"Yes, a flaw, I admit," said the queen. "Though if you recall, I was...preoccupied."
"With trying to control your poor husband's mind," Perita said, shaking her head.
"So...My magical mirror on the castle wall, where hidden is Evelwyn's Gift---if hidden at all?"