Ch 13: Bents and Souls
The meal eventually wound down, and the children were pardoned, sprinting outside to burn off their energy, little streaks of youth and gold. Ana felt exhausted just watching their sheer vigor. After they denied her offer of help, Ana sleepily smiled as Markl and Diane competitively cleared the table. Howl settled down in his chair with regality, slipping half-moon reading glasses onto his long, aristocratic nose after snatching a small book from the side board, its dark leather cover engraved with what looked like silver foil and fragments of malachite. Sophie relaxed with a cup of tea, eyeing her husband until he glanced up with a smile. It was as charming and as breath-taking as the ones his son tossed around, and apparently it melted Sophie's concern.
Felix mirrored his mother, his shoulders and neck relaxing as he sipped on his cup of lightly creamed coffee. Markl snatched a newspaper from the kitchen before plopping his long, broad frame down on a hunter green couch in front of Calcifer. Relaxing her head back against the back of the chair, Ana closed her eyes, trying to wrestle her way clear of the pain that was sparking up and down her spine. It had kept quiet through most of breakfast, and had dimmed the greatest once Felix had descended the stairs. But as she stayed awake, alert, and aware, Ana could feel her bones weakening, her blood pounding through her veins harder than it should. Fighting hard enough to bring drops of sweat to her temple trying to regulate her breathing, Ana opened her eyes very slowly when gentle, cool fingers brushed her cheeks.
Diane's stunning face gazed down at her, a soft, worried smile on her bowed lips.
"I'm afraid we wore you out." Straightening hurriedly to deny such an accusation, Ana blinked against the stars that robbed her breath and swirled against the back of her closed eyelids. "No, not at all. Maybe I wasn't as ready as I believed myself to be," Ana murmured, pressing a numb hand to her forehead. She heard the screeching of wood as a chair was shoved back, closely followed by a deep voice. Ana knew she was very far gone when she couldn't tell if it was Howl or Felix.
"Hush. She's just tired. Ana, you'd best go relax upstairs." Peering through cloudy eyes, Ana could see that Howl was barely holding back his son, energy thrumming through Felix as if he were a plucked string, concern darkening his cobalt eyes. Markl hopped over the back of the couch, resting a hand on Felix's shoulder. Like a wolf pack, Ana could feel them closing ranks, moving as a well-oiled machine. It was a little intimidating, and the sensation of being prey snuck under her skin. No matter what, it would be best to follow Howl's advice, especially with her knees trembling and her bones shivering. Slowly taking to her feet with the tentative step of a woman four times her age, Ana was a little surprised when Diane gently clasped her elbow. Sophie suddenly appeared on her other side, and a brief glance over her shoulder confirmed that Howl and Markl now both stood, holding back Felix as politely as they could manage.
A family, they certainly were. But why had she expected it to stop there? They were wizards, warriors under that gentle veneer. They had such a lovely little community, but they protected their prince almost violently. What Ana wasn't sure about was whether they were protecting her, too, or protecting Felix from her.
----------
Sophie settled Ana down with the gentle efficiency of a mother. For a moment, Ana was awash with homesickness. It faded as the soft velvet of sleep closed in, but Ana dreamt of her family, a world that seemed eons away while she was tucked in on some stranger's couch in a neat study inside a moving castle.
Her nap was only about half an hour long—she awoke, completely alert, to a quiet room, totally alone. A gentle fall sun illuminated the dancing dust motes, little reeling stars in the hushed air. Rising from the couch hesitantly, Ana was gratified when the muscles in her legs wept, but held under her weight. A shiver stole across her shoulders as a draft whispered through the castle.
She dragged the blue and violet checked quilt off the couch, wrapping it around her shoulders before shuffling to the heavily carved oak door. It was lighter than it appeared, almost knocking Ana on the nose when it swung open easily, the hinges silent. Sighing as the gnawing sensation in her joints winked to life, Ana moved into the hallway, peering right, then left, then right again with the blinking deliberation of an owl. She knew the stairs down to the dining room were to the left, but the corridor to the right remained a mystery. The pain humming at lower levels than it had that morning, Ana noticed that the corridors were paneled in ash. Sturdy, yet elegant. It encompassed her hosts perfectly. Making her careful way down the hall, Ana stumped up a short, winding staircase.
The corridors branched, forked, and wound into labyrinthine proportions. Ana would stop at a divergence, totally unsure of where the rest of the castle's inhabitants were. A soft, cool breeze would tug at the ends of the quilt, pulling her down certain hallways and away from others. Eventually, Ana realized that a whisper of laughter rode on her guiding breath of wind. Someone, somewhere in the castle, was laughing, the silvery sound of joy.
Ana ultimately found herself before another oaken door, like the one to Sophie's study. The handle was faded platinum, the fastenings glowed dull silver. Just as she rested faintly shaking fingers on the metal, the door swiftly opened, the air rushing past Ana with one final sterling-toned note to rustle Sophie's silver hair.
The older woman stood on the other side of the door, a surprised lift to her silver brows and cool observation in her brown eyes.
"Come in, dear. Are you cold?" Sophie asked as Ana shuffled into the room, noticing the quilt draped over Ana's shoulders. Diane looked over her shoulder from her place before a wardrobe full of color and texture, her violet eyes warming as they lighted.
"I wasn't able to get warm. It seems like such hard work now," Ana murmured. Catching the way Sophie's eyes followed the quilt, Ana dragged it from her shoulders, her arms wavering under the weight as she held it out to the older woman.
"Is is special to you?" Ana asked quietly, relieved when Sophie's face softened, a smile lighting her dark eyes.
"No, no, it's alright." Sophie said, taking the quilt from Ana's hands to drape over her shoulders, steering the young woman into the room with a hand at the base of Ana's back.
"You're looking better since breakfast. How did you find us?" Diane said, following Ana's progress into the room with covert eyes in the mirror set into the wardrobe door. As Ana drew closer, she could see that the wardrobe was antique, made of cherry wood and sporting detailed carvings depicting celestial figures and mythical stories.
"Just wandering around," Ana said, taking the seat Sophie offered carefully. With an unintentionally loud sigh, Ana relaxed back, swallowing the whimper that bubbled in her throat. Suddenly, a thought flashed through Ana's head, bringing her jerking forward.
"My pack!" she breathed, her mind racing to the last time she had it. "The ambush. I had it during the ambush!" Sophie rested a gentle hand on her shoulder to calm her as Diane approached, a grubby little canvas bag hanging from her hand. As Ana deflated with relief, Diane grinned.
"I figured it was yours," she said triumphantly as she plopped it into Ana's lap. She fumbled with the ties, struggling with the water-tightened, muddy knot. Finally, the strings gave, and Ana lifted out her earth clothes. With a sigh, she rubbed her hands over the denim jeans, smiling at her U of L sweatshirt. Reverently, Ana withdrew the letter from her father. At the back of her mind, Ana admired Diane and Sophie's quiet patience as she reread the slightly faded letters on the parchment. In a split second decision, Ana handed the letter to Sophie.
"I first got this letter from my mother the day I crossed to this plane. This bracelet came with it," Ana explained, pulling back quilt and sleeve to reveal the silver bracelet gleaming against her skin, still bruised a violent black and purple shade, raucous against her porcelain skin. Diane cradled her hand to inspect the bruising closer, casting heavy glances at her preoccupied old master.
Sophie's eyes travelled quickly across the paper, small smiles flitting across her face like birds as tears gathered heavier and heavier, never falling, but glimmering on the rim of her eyes like stars. Eventually, she looked up, smiling sadly as she handed the letter back.
"I knew your father. He's a good man." Ana handed the letter to Diane with her eyes still plastered on Sophie. She had to swallow the shock that clouded her throat to speak.
"You… you knew my father?" Ana whispered as Sophie blinked away tears.
"He was Howl's best man at our wedding."
Diane and Ana gazed at Sophie with wide eyes as the seconds wound longer and longer, the unfettered silence glimmering in the air. Finally, Diane cleared her throat, drawing Ana's attention to her with a soft touch to her forearm.
"Do you mind?" Ana's brows furrowed, confused. Diane's amethyst eyes gestured to the pile of clothes in Ana's lap, her jeans and sweatshirt muddy and grass-stained, her t-shirt sweaty and blood-flecked. "They're rather in need of a good washing." Shaking her head clear of the revolving thoughts that still chased eachother in dancing circles in her mind, Ana nodded her consent, trying to reassure with a smile. She found it harder than expected.
Gathering up the clothes in her arms, Diane lifted a pinch of Ana's linen, mud-stained sleeve between reluctant fingertips, her nose wrinkled comically. "Let me guess," she sighed, apparently exasperated. "Felix got these from some poor stable hand, didn't he?"
"I… I believe so," Ana replied, unsuccessfully swallowing the chuckle that threatened at Diane's expression, a strange mating of disgust and disbelief.
"Tell you what," Diane continued, her face clearing and her eyes all business. "You can go next door and take a nice bath, and I can burn these rags and go make fun of Felix for forcing you to wear such an atrocious excuse for clothing." Ana rose, distracted from Sophie's statement about her father, as had been Diane's intent.
"They were part of my disguise!" Ana said laughingly as Diane escorted her to the bathroom. The other woman rolled her eyes, clearly not impressed.
"Of course they were," Diane muttered sarcastically, closing the bathroom door behind her. Cranking the brass knobs to full hot, she busied herself with providing towels and soap for Ana's bath. The steam quickly filled the room with the viscosity of fog, penetrating Ana's tight muscles and shivering bones. With a long sigh, she relaxed her hold on the quilt, folding it as best she could manage. Diane finally approached, taking the quilt from her arms and gesturing to the screen Ana could barely see through the steam.
"Go ahead and change out of those monstrosities. Take your time," she added. Ana shucked the horribly wrinkled, muddied clothes as best she could, taking more time than it would have normally required, her joints violently protesting the contortions required to wriggle her way free of the clothing. Wrapping a towel around herself, Ana emerged to hand her clothes to Diane.
"Go easy on him, OK?" Ana asked with a chuckle. "He's only a man, after all." Diane laughed approvingly, nodding her head as she made her way out of the bathroom, the open door casting a brief strike of light through the mist before it again closed. Ana was possessed by the strange sensation of being a ghost, floating through the white mist almost soundlessly. Cranking the water off, Ana set aside the towel and stepped into the huge porcelain clawed tub. It was like sinking into nirvana, this time long enough to appropriately accommodate her height. The water was hot enough to instantly turn her skin pink, and would have normally made her squeal. But as she had said, it seemed difficult for Ana to warm now—the heat was a welcome reprieve from the chill that never seemed to leave her. Picking up a bar of soap, this time scented of lilies, Ana went to work.
-_-_-_-_-_-
As Diane made her way back into her room, she couldn't help the muscles that tightened around her mouth, or her angry shake of her head. Apparently, Sophie noticed, which really shouldn't have surprised Diane.
"What is it?" Sophie asked, her voice that quiet, understanding tone that Diane could recognize in her sleep.
"She's in such pain, Sophie," Diane said quietly, mindful of the thin door separating her room from her occupied bathroom. Still, the emotion and concern in her tone was obvious. "I had hoped she would be showing signs of recovery by now, but the bruising isn't just on her wrist. It's all down her spine, and on her scalp. Neither of which she can see, of course, otherwise I'm sure she would have mentioned it. And they're so vivid! Those bruises were incurred a week ago—they should have started to fade by now, but they look as fresh as ever." As Sophie shook her head in anguish for her guest, Diane bit back her tongue. There were many things she had learned from Sophie that Diane had never grasped at home, besides the obvious craft of magic—one was humility. The other was the skill of listening.
"Howl told me of a few cases like Ana's. Most don't completely recovery until six months to a year after the incident. Some never regain the levels of their magic fully again. At the very least, Ana won't be able to walk normally again for another month. I don't know how long until she's without pain." Diane blanched, clearly contemplating her own mind set if such information was revealed to her.
"We can't tell her that," Diane whispered. Sophie nodded in assent as her pupil continued speaking. "I would go mad at such a prospect. We can only hope for her sake that she's an incredibly fast healer."
"She'll be welcome here to heal for as long as she needs, and wants. We have to figure out what exactly what we're going to do with the information presented to us," Sophie continued thoughtfully, referring to the letter and Felix and Ana's narrow escape from Apollo's perfumed clutches. Diane's eyes shifted, her mind drifting to the breakfast that morning. Just as she opened her mouth to tell Sophie something, the bathroom door cracked open, the steam leaking out in small, tentative breaths as Ana slipped out. Her dark hair was plastered to her white shoulders, thick cords of near black. Her eyes, faintly ringed with bruises, seemed huge in her face, her expression unsure and almost wary. A white towel was wrapped around her, the neutral bringing out the peach tone of her skin, pinked from the warm. She padded out on quiet feet, her hands shivering as she quickly began to chill.
"Here, Ana," Diane said as she tugged a warm fleece robe free of her wardrobe, draping it over the young woman's shoulders. She fumbled tiredly with the towel while trying to maintain her modesty; Diane and Sophie averted their eyes politely. Finally, she belted the robe with finality, flicking her heavy hair behind a shoulder and offering Diane a smile of gratitude, only a little weak.
"Come sit down, Ana. I'll brush your hair out," Sophie said, gesturing to the suede mahogany couch near the cherry wardrobe, which still stood open and ready. Diane had been sifting through her clothing when Ana had first entered the room and distracting her from her reluctant task. Once Ana was settled comfortably and Sophie began the first strokes through her thick hair, Diane turned back to the wardrobe, busying herself quietly. A dark grey dress, lovely but too small, spoke a brief message, one that rather surprised Diane. She set it aside, and continued without a thought. She assumed Ana wanted to sleep—perhaps that's why she was startled when she spoke instead.
"Why do your eyes shimmer sometimes?" Pausing as she looked over her shoulder, Diane looked first at Ana, then at Sophie, the smile that bloomed mimicking her teacher's.
"You are very observant, Ana. But I am not the one to explain—I find I am not the most patient of teachers. Sophie rationalizes it much better than I." With a nod, Sophie began to speak.
"There are many branches of magic, as I'm sure you can imagine. Some witches and wizards have what are called bents—very focused areas of magic in which they show skill. Others are called star-gazers. They are without bents, their focus is 'as broad as the stars in the sky.' Howl, Markl, and Felix are all star-gazers, though Felix shows advanced aptitude in several fields, too many to be labeled as bents." Sophie explained in a measured, scholarly voice.
"What's an example of a bent?" Ana asked. Diane could hear the curious tone in her voice, and, risking a look, was gratified to see a little sparkle of healthy color in her skin and eyes.
"Well," Sophie said with a smile, "I have one." Raising a hand, Sophie looked at the plant potted at the foot of the couch. With a small rippling of her fingers, the plant shivered, growing and moving until it blossomed into a giant magenta flower, similar to a lily. Tiny white blooms ringed it, little stars surrounding a bloody sun. "I know plants. I can control them, help them, and understand them." As Ana nodded in wonder and comprehension, Sophie continued. "The twins both have bents. Little Thomas is a stone mason. He can find gemstones like a bloodhound can find a scent. He can also work stones with far more ease than a man with a chisel and hammer. As he gets older, he'll be able to control them without touching them. Linnea has a way with animals, much like I have a way with plants. As animals are more dynamic, Leena can actually hold a conversation with them. At this point, she has to speak aloud to formulate her thought before sending it to the animal. As she progresses, she'll be able to project the thought silently, helping in the growth of the bond. And Diane has a bent," Sophie added quietly, her eyes intent on her pupil. "She is of a very rare bend, some of the most famous wizards in history included. Diane is a seer." The two women waited for a reaction from the third.
"You can see the future?" Ana asked quietly. Diane nodded regally in response. The younger was quiet for a moment before responding. "Prove it." Diane blinked, then let her lips spread in a very feline, noble smile as she pressed her fingertips gently to the window, the strange ripple of light shivering over her violet eyes.
"In twelve seconds, a rock is going to ping against the window. It's going to startle you, which will make you jump, which will cause Sophie to accidentally rip out a tangle in your hair she was trying to work out gently. You won't say anything, but it hurts enough to bring tears briefly to your eyes." Ana's eyes narrowed as she counted down the seconds. Her mouth twisted as she counted to fifteen before the rock rapped against the window, the events unfolding exactly how Diane had predicted it. "I had to fudge the time a little," she explained with a small grin. "Otherwise you would have been expecting it."
Ana had to blink back the tears before she spoke. "So what did you see when you met me for the first time at breakfast?" Diane's expression turned a little wary, her eyes flicking to Sophie before bouncing back to Ana.
"You… and Felix." Ana's expression was not the one Diane expected. It grew chilled, as if with the ice of fear.
"Were we running?" she whispered, her eyes telling Diane that she didn't really want to know the answer. It appeared that telling the truth would be the only way to appease her fear, a fear that was tying knots of guilt in Diane's stomach.
"No, no you weren't." Taking a breath and stealing a final glance as Sophie, Diane slowly spoke. "You were… making love."
The silence that resonated through the room was thick enough to slice and spread on bread. Ana froze, a hunted look on her face. Diane's only consolation was the fact that she no longer looked afraid. Finally, Sophie huffed, returning to the brushing of Ana's luxurious hair, which was drying to a most enchanting color.
"My son is an adult. I'm merely glad that he chose such a young woman as you, Anastasia, instead of some demon creature like Apollo." Ana's eyes flickered, something Diane noted with hawk-like attention.
"He has in no way chosen me," she said in a quiet, almost regretful voice.
"He will," Diane said with certainty. "I am very, very rarely wrong," she added with another grin. With that, the conversation turned to lighter subjects, Sophie at much of the talk's helm. Diane was gratified to see Ana join in, offering her own, somewhat strange opinions on such things like clothes. Wearing breeches every day. Really now.
But Diane and Sophie discovered something they would never have guessed at before—Ana was funny, honest, and engaging. She made both Sophie and Diane laugh more than once with one of her silly expressions or little other-worldly quips. As her hair finally dried, Diane glanced at the dark dress she had set aside, and smiled.
"Change into this," she said as she offered the gown to Ana, who took the thin Calimar wool dress with care, gratitude twinkling in her eyes. Before Ana could say anything, Diane merely waved her into the bathroom. As the door clicked close, the teacher and the student spent a few moments in silence.
"Ana and Felix, then," Sophie murmured. Diane nodded.
"A sight that spawned from both of them." After a moment, Sophie smiled, the curve honest.
"She's a lovely young woman. I rather like her." Diane smiled.
"I do, as well." Clearing her throat, Diane slipped on her leather ankle boots. "We should go out to the garden." Never one to argue about spending time with her plants, Sophie also pulled on her shoes. Just as she finished tying up the laces, Ana emerged from the bathroom.
"I knew it," Diane breathed. Her long hair braided loosely back and the dark folds of the dress accentuated by tiny flecks of silver, Ana looked like a goddess of the night. "Come on," Diane said, recovering faster than Sophie from the shock as she held out Ana's shoes. "We're going to get some fresh air."
----------
Felix fought to relax his spine and legs, but Ana's pale face and glassy eyes still haunted him, the effort of merely being awake robbing her of what little strength she had regained. Against Felix's advice, Howl had allowed Calcifer to stop the castle. Felix was concerned about them still being tailed, terrified of involving his family in the ugly chase that was unfolding. But somewhere in the rational part of him, Felix acknowledged that even a star could burn out. Restlessly, he paced the green field the twins had claimed as their playground, keeping one eye out for his niece and nephew. Tommy and Leena hadn't seen him in months—his last fireplace commune had been regretfully brief, right after he had joined with the band of gypsies. A private fire had been difficult to come by, and Felix had felt the separation deeply.
The children were very dear to their honorary uncle—it would take something only as worrisome as Ana's health to distract him from the joy of seeing the twins again. With a panther's aggression, he circled back to the rock where Howl and Markl lounged, the younger spreading his long frame back in what appeared to be a nap in the sun—Felix knew better. Markl kept a sharp ear out for any yips or cries from his children. If anything were to happen, Felix had no doubt Markl would be the first to be at his children's' side.
Howl leisurely sat on the ground, his legs crossed at the ankles with his back resting against Markl's rock, his sapphire gaze tracking Tommy and Leena as they romped through the grass in determined competition. Their proprietary grandfather, it always seemed to Felix that the reason his father did so well with children was that it had taken his marriage to Sophie for him to finally grow up.
With nervous energy, Felix tightened his course, merely circling Howl and Markl instead of circumventing the entire field. Finally, Howl loosed an impatient sigh through his nose, speaking in a surprisingly mild voice.
"Felix, sit down before you wear a furrow in the ground." Instead of sitting, Felix merely stood, vibrating with anxiety. "Felix, sit!" With a humph, Felix flopped down into a jumble of limbs. Tapping his foot against the ground to the beat of a hummingbird's heart, the man kept his cobalt eyes pinned on the castle.
"I am not a dog to be commanded to sit," he muttered, the venom born of worry worming its way into his tone. An uncouth snort erupted from Markl, who earned a scalding glare from Felix that would have burned off his eyebrows had he been able to see it.
"Down, Killer," Howl murmured, patting an understanding hand on Felix's stone-hard, corded shoulders. Howl sensed the growl resonating in his son's throat, laughing gently to defuse it. Instead, Felix's hackles rose higher. Markl's voice sleepily floated down from his splayed-out spot atop the sun-warmed granite entrenched in rich earth that had supported strong farm land decades ago.
"We could always dunk you in the lake to cool your hot head." Felix's anger peaked, then relaxed, Phantom Lake winking with charm not so far in the distance. With a soft laugh, just strong enough to avoid a tremble, he shook his head.
"Some family you are. Threatening physical violence and calling me derogatory names in the face of my distress. Mother would understand."
"Your mother is a woman," Howl said with finality. It was only here in the company of his men did he dare such a statement. And, in truth, he didn't even really mean it. Not anymore. Twenty years ago was a different matter. But as Sophie was fond of saying, he was, indeed, a changed man.
"She'd knock your block off if she heard that," Markl said, that lazy tone still in his voice. Howl shrugged, but they all knew that he was merely joking. Felix smiled, then sobered, his worried eyes flicking back to the castle, searching the windows, looking fruitlessly for a flash of light or color that would discern where Ana was.
"She looked so tired," Felix said quietly, speaking to no one but himself. But, of course, his companions had to answer.
"Of course she did. You would too," Markl stated, confident in Ana's strength to recover.
"Maybe we pushed her too hard. Her body is still recovering from what happened during the ambush." Felix's voice had never taken that tone before—worry, fear, and something none of the men were comfortable discussing.
"You know," Markl said as he levered himself upright, "I have yet to hear the whole fantastic tale. Everyone's being rather tight-lipped about what little they know. Care to elaborate, Felix?" The man sighed, smiling as the children caught his eye without any of his usual spark.
"Ana came through in a crossing near Luxton. I was planning on cutting down through the Ruby Forest before making my way to Kingsbury. But I was going to rest and stock up for a few days before moving on. Needless to say, when I saw a lightning crossing starting to build, my plans changed. As soon as she landed, I knew that Ana wasn't trained. She has massive potential in her blood—no doubt you already noticed that. But you must also have noticed that she has absolutely no training." Howl nodded, already having heard this fragment of the story.
"Were there any Arsalans in the area?" Markl asked, intent and involved in the account now.
"Of course," Felix muttered, a kernel of bitterness over that bit of rotten luck still burning in his gut. "And you can only imagine how much Apollo would lather after a prize such as Ana. It's like having your own personal comet. I couldn't allow her to fall into such hands."
"That, and she's rather gorgeous." Tommy and Leena looked up from their dirt-drawn treasure map at their father's yelp. He was rubbing his upper arm, and scowling at Felix, who had a small, vicious smile on his face.
"Needless to say, we had to move, quickly. I irritated the Arsalans a bit—"
"How much was a bit?" Howl asked, a concerned noted flitting through his voice.
"Well, they shot at me, so take that as you will."
"They shot at you?!" Markl yelled, still rubbing his sore arm.
"They threatened the town," Felix said, subsiding Howl and Markl's concern slightly. "Anyway, the next day, Ana and I made our way out of town, and we had to draw the Arsalans onto our trail to shift their focus, and vengeance, from Luxton. We made good progress, and by nightfall, had established a strong lead."
"Do I even want to know how you got your lead?" Markl groaned. Felix grinned that blade-keen, almost frightening smile his father knew so well.
"No, not really." Markl made another loud noise, which Felix promptly ignored before moving on with his tale.
"So the next morning, the day of the rainstorm—"
"The day you called us," Markl interrupted.
"Indeed. I had thought the Arsalans were still miles behind us. I echoed to check," he defended at the look on Howl's face. "I still don't know how they managed it. They split us up after bursting out of the bushes. I didn't think Ana would do anything—she has no powers to speak of. What could she do?" Felix shook his head, reliving the intense wonder of watching Ana's gift burst to life. "I created a diversion." Felix cleared his throat at Markl's expression with a small grin. It faded as he continued. "I told her to run. I still don't know why she didn't listen! Instead of running for cover—"
"And abandoning you," Howl interjected, his eyes deep and all too understanding.
"Well," Felix murmured, trying to regain the thread of his tale. His father's gaze dredged up the memory of his pounding heart as Felix had watched the light dance in Ana's predatory eyes. "She stayed. She stayed, and took on half a dozen Arsalans on her own. She conquered two before she commandeered a horse and a blade." Felix didn't see Markl's eyebrows as they winged up. "She showed full mind control—she knocked out a man and controlled an Arsalan's horse flawlessly. She mind-bound it to her," he added at the soft expressions of disbelief on Howl and Markl's faces.
"She took down three more with a skilled blade—I had no idea she'd ever wielded a sword before in her life! Then she faced down the sergeant, the last of her half-dozen attackers. She lit her blade," Felix stated, his voice heavy with meaning and understanding. Howl and Markl were quiet as they contemplated the implications of Ana's actions. War magic was one of the most difficult, taxing branches of magic, the other being shape-shifting. And lighting a blade was equal only to creating your own. It had kept Howl up late at night to contemplate his son's growing ability in the craft of battle magic.
"She charged the sergeant when…" Felix drew a breath, the fear in that memory constricting his throat. Suddenly, the twins came charging over, wrapping sticky, dirty little hands around Felix's wrists as they hauled him to his feet.
"Come on, Uncle Felix! Come on! We're playing pirates, and you need to be our captain!" Leena and Tommy cried determinedly, their little voices bouncing off eachother's like bubbles floating through the air. Swallowing back the emotion that had filled his lungs and pushed his heart up his throat, Felix leapt to his feet, excitedly discussing his pirate name with the children. They walked away, Tommy and Leena arguing over how bloody Felix's pirate name should be. Watching them go with wise eyes, Howl knew Markl's question before he spoke it.
"So—"
"What happened?" Howl finished. "Ana's light went out just as she urged her mount forward." Markl swallowed audibly, and Howl felt his lips crook, knowing that his old apprentice understood just how dangerous such an occurrence was. "No doubt she began vomiting blood, and bleeding from the ears and nose would be expected. Later, she would have undergone periods of blindness, hacking coughing, and strange warping of time. If she didn't die, she should have gone mad."
"How did Ana survive?" Markl murmured, his voice instinctively lowered as the children and Felix ran near, then looped away again.
"Her survival lay in two quarters, according to my theory. Felix was regrettably brief when we discussed this earlier. The first lies, of course, in Felix. You won't be surprised to hear that he used his own soul, gift, and will to keep Ana alive. By all rights, she should be dead, and very possibly Felix, as well. And even with his involvement, that wouldn't have been enough. Ana's body had basically been electrified by magic—it was tearing itself apart to compensate"
"Then how is it she had breakfast with us this morning? Albeit, pale and weak, but she was there, speaking, moving, even joking with Leena and Tommy. How could she survive such a destruction of her system?" Markl sounded puzzled, almost worried. Howl smiled his mysterious, soft smile, which did little to appease his old apprentice.
"The other answer lies in Anastasia herself. All of us, even Felix, underestimated just how strong her soul is. None would deny that her gift is inordinately powerful for someone so untrained. But a powerful gift doesn't always mean a strong soul. Ana possesses both. The gift without the soul is a very dangerous combination, one that would have led to her death if that had been the case. Her strength lies in her heart. And in her breeding." Markl's brows furrowed, his dark eyes sharpening at the strange tone Howl's voice undertook.
"Her breeding? You make her sound like she's a horse." Howl softly chuckled, amused at Markl's defense of Ana.
"Our Anastasia is none other than the daughter of Jason O'Neill." At Markl's puzzled look, Howl explained. "Yes, I suppose it was before your time, and I never told you the tale. Jason O'Neill was a classmate of mine when I attended the Royal Academy. His family was my foster family, and we came to be very good friends."
"You're talking about Viator, the Dimension Wizard? I heard he died decades ago."
"His mentor did. Jason merely took up the mantle. Although I can't say if he's alive now. I haven't heard from him in quite a few years."
"So that's why you trust her? Because you were friends with her father?" Markl asked, his eyes flicking protectively to his children.
"Only partially," Howl said, very quietly, his voice smooth and low. "I trust Anastasia because she came to breakfast. I trust her because she told Leena and Tommy a story from her youth. I trust her because Felix looks at her the way I look at Sophie. And I trust her because she didn't run. She stayed, and fought alongside my son." Markl was silent for a moment before he spoke again.
"You noticed that, did you?" Howl snorted.
"You'd have to be blind to not notice the way they look at eachother."
"Which means they're both blind as bats." Markl stated decisively.
"Of course. Since when can we ever see the ones we truly love until we're forced to?" Howl murmured with the comfort of realized love before Markl, who looked a little hunted, could reply. "And this current state is not the most conducive to the development of relationships." Markl's brow lifted.
"What makes you say that?" Howl's eyes darkened, the slightest breeze stirring the tail of his queue.
"Can't you sense it? A storm, brewing on the horizon. It's come to this land before. I had hoped I would never see it again in my lifetime." Markl's eyes went unfocused, that same phantom wind gently stirring his short auburn hair. He blinked, and nodded, saying the word that made Howl's teeth grind.
"It's to be war, then."
"It would seem so." Both men turned their eyes to the trio gallivanting in the meadow as patchy clouds made their way over the sun, the light weaving in and out, the shadows fine as lace. The children had just attacked their captain, taking Felix down to the dirt. Although the element of surprise was on the twins' side, Felix quickly enacted his deadliest weapon—tickling. With a sharply honed gift, almost preternatural, Howl glanced over his shoulder at the castle as the children giggled and squealed helplessly. Up in the garden, a trio approached the railing, leaning over to watch the joy unfolding down in the meadow. Despite his failing eyes, Howl picked out the gleam of his wife's starlight hair, eerily making eye contact that surprised neither. Next to Sophie stood the slim figure of Anastasia, almost ethereal in a gown of silver-flecked charcoal. And flanking her other side was Diane, resplendent as a princess in her amber dress.
Markl's gaze followed his, but Howl knew his eyes locked on the princess, not the mother. That didn't surprise the wizard, either. "This is to be your war," Howl said quietly to Markl, who made no mistake as to what he meant. "Sophie and I… We'll protect the children." It was almost a joke, but as blue eyes clicked to mahogany ones, the intent, and trust, was as strong as thunder. Markl had no doubt that his adoptive parents would protect his children with their very lives. Turning his gaze from Howl to Felix and his children, Markl thought of his little brother and Felix's woman. It would be up to him and Diane, then, to protect them.
----------
I'M BACK!!! How're y'all doing? OK, it's ridiculously long, I am totally aware of that. But I promised you guys some explanation—well, here you go. Not much to say that I didn't already say in my crazy little fluff chapter. Enjoy this one; it's a beast of a chapter. Thank Castor-Leigh—you da' bomb. You know why. Review if you want to see another one any time soon. Hope you like it!!!