“That’s it for tonight, little Bembo, my fierce beast.” He held him up for the Fool to take. “Good night, Fool. You were right—that did me good. It’s been a challenging day.”
“I’m so glad he offered some comfort, Sire,” the Fool said, meaning it. “I hope you have a sleep filled with peaceful dreams.”
“All right,” snapped the Senator. “We’ve got business to discuss. Leave us.” He crossed his legs and waved the Fool away.
The Fool scooped Bembo into his arms and walked out of the room, but he did not leave. His heart pounded like a wild thing in his chest as he slid into the antechamber, hidden from view outside the King’s sitting room.
“She’s just a girl, Senator,” the King said. The rain had let up a bit, but the Fool still had to strain his ears. Bembo snored softly, worn out from his play with the King.
“Yes, but she’s also the daughter of your nemesis,” answered the Senator.
“She has no power.”
At this, the Senator paused.
“She’s a gentle girl. I’m sure if I set her free, she would not seek revenge,” the King continued. “That’s what she wants: her freedom.”
“She would be happy just to get out of the Tower,” Senator Bassett said.
“But if she gets restless or bored, and she has any of Marco’s powers, there will be trouble.” The King thought. “Her imagination is the most fertile I’ve ever encountered. She’s created lands that I could not dream up in a thousand years.”
“But what about her use of the Moon in that tapestry?” urged the Senator.
Bassett, you snake, thought the Fool.
“There is no good explanation for it. Perhaps if she had read about it in books—”
“But, Sire,” the Senator interrupted, “she said the Moon has spoken to her since she was a child.”
“She did,” said the King, growing more pensive. He’d wondered then and he wondered now if somehow Marco were communicating with Anna from beyond the grave. Impossible! And yet, the thought unnerved him.
The Senator was not deterred. “If she is the Queen’s daughter, then we know betrayal is in her blood.”
The King didn’t appreciate the Senator’s harsh words, but he spoke the truth. Why did Anna have to mention the Moon today? He couldn’t let it go.
“Let me take care of the problem for you, Your Majesty,” the Senator crooned. “Let me just make it disappear.”
“Anna said she wants people to have more autonomy. She wants things to be like they used to be, but I’m not sure she understands what she’s saying. She wasn’t alive then.” The King was vacillating, and the Fool was tempted to step out of hiding and help him along. “She spoke of artists and ambition and the freedom to become who you want.”
“She sounds like Marco,” Senator Bassett said.
“She does, doesn’t she?”
“I’m afraid so, Your Majesty.” The Senator stood up slowly.
The Fool wanted to wring Bassett’s neck.
“It will be painless?” The King’s voice was thick with grief.
“You have my word.”
Anna stared at her tapestries. She held a pair of long, sharp sewing shears at her side. Her friends would be back at sunrise.
We need to destroy your tapestries.
The Magician’s words rattled in her head.
Anna had a better idea.
She started with Pentacles. At first the fabric would not give in to the shear’s blades. The threads were so tightly woven that they didn’t budge.
Anna took a deep breath and stood back. She bent down so that she was at the bottom of the tapestry and turned the shears at a diagonal. At first it was slow going, but the threads began to give as she sawed the shears back and forth. She grabbed a hook from her sewing supplies and loosened the threads as she cut.
Once the threads were unraveled enough, she climbed up on the ladder and cut out the King in his throne. Next went the image of the Queen of Pentacles, and then the knights. She snipped the pages, the castle with its turrets, and pieces of the raging gray sea. Energy surged through her as the swatches of her work fell into piles at her feet.
When she finished with Pentacles, Anna moved on to Wands, pushing the ladder with her. She looked around at her other tapestries, her arms already burning from the effort it took to cut through Pentacles. Fingers aching, she worked through the desert land, unbinding artisans and their wares from the tapestry. They would be liberated along with her.
She cut through Swords, the towering glass buildings, the inventors and their strange machines set free. She severed swaying green palms and sections of turquoise sea from the land of youth, cutting away the Moon and the young King and Queen.
When Anna looked out the window, the rain had stopped, and a light blue was beginning to dilute the deep black of the night’s sky as dawn took hold. Anna’s hands were cut and blistered, her neck stiff and aching when she heard the key turn in the Tower’s lock. Her back throbbed from working ceaselessly through the night. She gathered her tapestry pieces and hugged them close to her chest.
“Anna!” Her advisors burst through the door.
“Oh my stars, what’s she done?” The Fool gasped, taking in the mangled tapestries.
“I could not destroy them,” she said in a sure and even voice. “They are as much a part of me as my hand or my heart. They are reduced to tattered landscapes, and these remnants, but I can bring the remnants with me, and that’s better than nothing.”
The Magician was impressed. “You will take them with you. Now come, we have a plan. The Fool has gathered some information, and it is not good.”
“We have very little time, Anna,” said the Hermit. The Fool, his blue eyes red-rimmed with misery, ran to her, pressing his face into her cheek and letting out a sob.
“Has he decided to get rid of me? Permanently?” Anna asked, knowing the answer by their faces. She shook her head. “What does he imagine I am? There is no justice here! It’s all because of things that happened before I was born that have nothing to do with me!”
“There’s no logic to it,” the Hermit responded.
Anna looked up at him. “I hope you’ve brought me warmer clothes, dear Hermit. This muslin frock and these woolen slippers will not get me far.”
The Hermit nodded. “I have.” He pulled a warm cloak and boots from a satchel.
“You can put your tapestry pieces in that bag,” said the Magician. “But you must change, Anna. We need to go before the kingdom wakes.”
Anna took one last look around the Tower. The scratches on the floor, her tapestries reduced to pieces hanging from the walls at odd angles. The Fool began to gather what was left of the tapestries, ripping them down from the walls. Anna looked at him questioningly. He shrugged.
“I’ll hide them as best I can.” He looked at the Hermit. “Help me?” They all pitched in, tearing down the large landscapes and rolling them up.
“Can you destroy this?” Anna said, twirling her finger in the air to show she meant the Tower itself. “I want this prison destroyed when I leave. Is that too much to ask of your magic?”
“That’s a fine idea,” said the Magician. “It would create a distraction big enough for you to get through the gates unnoticed.”
“Could you really do that?” Anna’s eyes were wide. The Hermit gave the Magician a warning look.
“If you fail, we could all be caught,” the Hermit cautioned. “Let’s just stick to the original plan. You can put the guards to sleep, and Anna can sneak out.”
“I love it,” the Fool said. “Knock it down, and go out with a flourish.” He stomped his foot and snapped his fingers above his head.
“But if I succeed, the King will think Anna is the great magician he has always feared she is.” The Magician had a mischievous glint in her eyes.
&nbs
p; “Is that a good thing?” the Fool asked.
“Beware your ego here,” the Hermit said.
“It is a good thing.” The Magician ignored his warning and turned to Anna. “He’ll be terrified of you.”
Anna did not look back as she walked through the heavy door and into the Tower’s cold stone corridor.
The sprawling courtyard that lay between the Tower and the Keep was quiet with the early morning hour, and the air was frigid and still. The peasants had not yet stirred from their white clapboard cottages. Even the livestock were still asleep in their piles of dirt and straw.
“We have to say goodbye here,” the Hermit said, his amber eyes misting as he and the Fool dragged out their large packages of Anna’s tapestries. They needed to get back to their chambers before the chaos of her departure ensued. Anna nodded. Inside, she felt unspeakable sadness at this goodbye. She did not know if she would ever see her friends again, these two young men, and her aunt, the Magician, who had been her only lifeline since she was a child. The Fool sensed her worry and jumped in, pushing aside his own grief.
“Anna, darling, you are on a Fool’s journey!” He smiled warmly at her, his eyes wet. “Think of this as an adventure. Have faith in your abilities. You are moving forward, and that is never a bad thing.” Anna nodded, fighting back tears. The Fool embraced her tightly and kissed her cheek. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.” Anna held on to him, as if she could glean extra strength by staying in his arms just a few minutes more. She turned to the Hermit.
“You are ready,” he said to her.
“I really wish I didn’t have to do this alone. I wish you could come, all of you.” At this point the tears came. “I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I know,” the Hermit comforted. “Remember how to quiet your mind? Remember our deep breathing in times of stress and how to cast out fear by finding your center?” He took both of her hands in his. His hands were always warm.
“I do,” she said, trying to practice the exercise. She wiped at her tears and attempted a smile. “I’ll miss you terribly. You’ve taught me so much. You taught me to weave, and it changed my life. I would have slipped into insanity a long time ago if not for that.”
“But you didn’t.” He squeezed her hands. “Time to go.” He hugged Anna awkwardly but held on an extra beat.
“I have to believe I will see you both again,” she said to the Fool and the Hermit. They had no answer to that. “You’d better go before I lose my nerve,” she choked out. “This isn’t going to get any easier.” She nodded at them, and they turned and ran toward the Keep. She watched them go, feeling her heart break inside her chest.
She turned to her aunt. “You’ll go with me as far as the sea?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Can you really do this?” she whispered. “Maybe we should start running.” But the Magician did not hear her. She was chanting now, and her face had a faraway look, the veins in her neck and temples straining.
Finally. How long she’d had to hold her magic at bay. How good this felt. She poured every ounce of resentment into the spell. This was what she was meant for.
She held her hands above her head and threw them toward the Tower, mumbling an incantation and then finally shouting, “Khatoszrophenze!” Her eyes rolled back into her head, and the green stones of the serpent belt glowed and pulsed.
Suddenly a small cadre of guards came running toward the courtyard in a tight formation.
Anna and the Magician looked at each other in alarm. They ducked out of view and watched as the guards ran to the Tower and disappeared into its massive stone structure.
“They’ve come to escort you to the execution.” The ground beneath them rumbled, and Anna stumbled backward, nearly dropping her satchel.
“Can you stop the spell?” Anna’s heart beat rapidly in her chest, and her palms started to sweat.
“We have to go, Anna. We need to get to the gate. It’s already happening; I can’t stop it now.” An earsplitting sound erupted from the Tower. Stone torn asunder.
“What about the guards?” Anna’s eyes shone with fear.
The Magician shook her head and grabbed Anna’s hand. Together they ran toward the castle gates. Sleepy-eyed peasants emerged from their cottages, their faces a mixture of confusion and horror. Large pieces of rock hurled from the sky, and flames hissed and crackled. The Tower was being destroyed from the inside out.
Just as they’d hoped, the sentries deserted their posts at the front gates. The air was filled with screaming as the guards inside the Tower flung themselves from the windows in hopes of escaping the devastation.
Filled with adrenaline, Anna and the Magician ran at top speed through the gates. Anna barely noted the fact that she was free as they tore toward the forest that surrounded the kingdom.
Before long, the Magician’s pace started to slow. They were still near enough to hear the screams and smell the smoke from the burning Tower.
“Come on!” Anna looked back at her aunt, who had turned deathly pale and struggled to stand. “What’s happening to you?”
“It’s the magic. I’m not strong enough for such a big spell yet.”
Anna looked around. “You can’t be caught out here. Come!” Anna hooked her arms beneath the Magician, struggling to hold on to her bag of tapestries and supplies.
Anna looked around, not knowing what to do. She needed to be running as far from the kingdom as possible, but she could not leave her aunt here. Not like this.
“This will pass,” the Magician managed. “Anna, I’m going to need your help getting to the woods.” She gasped for breath. “But you’ll have to go on from there without me.” She closed her eyes, and her head fell forward. “I’m so dizzy.” She grabbed at her stomach. “I need to rest, and you need to keep going.”
“By myself?” Anna said, glancing behind them, her body trembling with fear. She didn’t like the idea of continuing alone, but she didn’t have a choice. She had to get her aunt to shelter.
Together they stumbled toward the forest as the sun rose higher in the sky.
“This is as far as I can go.” The Magician looked even more pale, and sweat beaded her brow. Several times she turned her head to the side and gagged violently.
“How can I leave you here?” Anna pleaded.
“The pain will pass. It’s a debt I have to pay for the magic.” She took a deep breath, and Anna knew how much it was costing her to speak. “I will soon be as good as new. I can sleep here and then return home. I’ll sneak back through the gates unseen.”
“Will I ever see you again?”
“I don’t know, Anna,” her aunt said plainly. “Take this.” The Magician reached into the front of her robe and pulled out a long chain. At the end was an infinity symbol forged in gold. The Magician pulled the necklace over her head. “I wore one and your father wore one. They were given to us by your grandparents.” The Magician stopped, gasping for breath. Her chest heaved up and down with the effort.
Anna took the necklace.
“It symbolizes so many things, but perhaps the most important is that our familial bond is endless—through dark and light, life and death.” She looked at Anna with tears in her eyes. “Your father is buried with his. You have a family and you are loved, even if we cannot be together.”
“Thank you for this,” Anna said, clutching the necklace in a fist to her heart. “Can I give you some water before I—”
“Go!” the Magician barked.
Anna nodded and kissed the Magician’s forehead.
“Forward,” Anna said, repeating the Fool’s advice.
“Forward,” agreed the Magician.
Anna felt as if her heart were being ripped from her chest, leaving her aunt, her only family, behind, but she turned toward the woods and began to run, clutching the golden heirloom in her palm. She ran a
s fast as she could, fleeing from feelings of guilt and fear. Her aunt was no martyr. As Anna ran deeper into the woods, toward the raging sea that bordered the land at the north, she had to trust that the Magician meant what she said.
When the Fool reached his chambers, he found Drake, fully clothed and asleep on top of the coverlet. Bembo was fast asleep too, snuggled at Drake’s side. The Fool carefully rolled the tapestries beneath the bed, taking care not to make any noise. When he was finished, he sat on the edge of the bed and gently woke his love.
“I’m so sorry. I must have fallen asleep.” Drake pushed himself up onto his elbows and rubbed his eyes. He looked at the Fool’s red-rimmed eyes. “Is it done?”
The Fool nodded, and Drake sat up to put an arm around his shoulders.
“I’ll miss her so much,” the Fool murmured.
“I know,” Drake said, smoothing the Fool’s head of blond curls. “At least now she has a chance at a life.”
“I’m so glad I have you. That goodbye was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
Drake rubbed the back of his hand gently down the Fool’s cheek and pressed his full lips to his forehead. The Fool leaned into him.
“You do have me. Always.”
Bembo, a little jealous, nosed his way between them.
“And him too,” Drake said, making room for Bembo. “Are you going to be okay, my love?”
The Fool nodded. “Not much choice.”
At that moment a giant boom seemed to explode from the sky, and the very ground shook beneath them. The two young men shot up.
“What was that?” Drake gasped.
“I think I know.” The Fool’s tears gave way to a cautious smile. Drake looked at him like he was a madman. “Come. You’re going to want to see this.”
The sun was sinking out of sight when Anna heard the horns sound. She’d been walking a full day, and she did not trust her ears. The sound was faint but clear. She was exhausted, her body horribly weak from a lifetime without proper exercise. Her lungs burned, her feet were blistered and throbbing, but she pressed on. She needed to get as far as possible before darkness took hold.
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