by Emily Deady
“Ashlin! You are simply breathtaking,” he said, holding out his hand. “May I have this dance?”
“Thank you,” she replied, slightly afraid that he was flirting with her.
“Onric will be so glad that you’ve come.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear as he led her back towards the dais. “It was his idea to open the invitation to the entire city because he wanted you to come.”
“He did that?” She smiled, surprised, and glanced around the room to find Onric.
Leading her up the staircase to the dais, Ian noticed her searching glance. “He probably escaped outside. He was devastated when he thought you were not coming.”
“I had not thought he still wanted me here.”
Ian raised an eyebrow at her. “Let me thank you for all your hard work with a single dance, and then I will send you off to ward away his grumpiness.”
“I am afraid I may not be that powerful, but I am here to try.”
“I would not be so quick to underestimate your power, my lady.”
They had danced for a few more moments, then Ian had bowed to her.
Now safe in Onric’s arms, dancing to the next song, she looked back at the dais. Ian was dancing with yet another young lady, but he caught Ashlin’s eye and grinned at her. She smiled in response. The exciting energy in the ballroom was enough to take her breath away now that she could properly enjoy it. The room was alive with color, light, and sound.
It was as though she had stepped into a different world, with every candle in the massive candelabra ablaze, the guests dancing, and the music playing. The tapestry, too, made an eye-catching centerpiece against the back wall of the great hall. Of course, only half of it was displayed, but the section they had used included the panel she had fixed with the help of the needle. Even from such a distance, the colors and textures of the stitching were breathtaking.
She was quite proud of her work on it, even if it had not unlocked a magical secret. She was the one who had offered to help Onric with the needle. For a moment, she felt a flash of guilt that she had accused him of coercing her into it. She blew that thought away as well. He had forgiven her with no strings attached.
Mistress Cedrice had been right about family. Mistress Cedrice. Her mind came to an abrupt halt as she remembered the events of the evening. She had been in such a rush, she had not even thought about the fact that the old seamstress knew Majis secrets. Onric would be thrilled to talk about the magic with her. But would telling him bring harm to the old seamstress? Would Onric feel required to report her to the Council?
As if he was reading her thoughts, Ashlin noticed the councilor from Chendas staring at her and Onric. His face was just as unpleasant as the first time she had seen him in the courtyard. She instinctively moved closer to Onric. “Let’s go look at the tapestry. I want to see it in all its glory.”
“Alright.” He smiled down at her and kept his arm around her waist as they made their way through the crowded dance. She lost sight of the angry councilor.
As they approached the back wall, she nearly gasped in awe. She had only ever seen the tapestry two panels at a time, rolled out piece by piece in the upper tower room. Now, spread out across the back wall, the sheer size of it was stunning.
“This is truly magnificent, Ashlin.” Prince Aden had stepped up next to them. He was dressed quite simply in a black doublet, with a loose yellow scarf around his neck in place of an embroidered collar. “You two have been keeping it such a secret, I had my doubts that it would be ready in time. I am happy to admit I was wrong.”
“Thank you,” she replied with a smile.
Aden carefully examined the panel in front of them, his brows knitted together in concentration.
Ashlin tilted her head back to look up at the tapestry. She slowly walked down the length of it to take in every element of the stories contained in each panel. Aden and Onric followed her, discussing the images as they went.
She had hoped the back of the hall would be a slightly more private area in which to tell Onric about Mistress Cedrice if she chose to do so, but she enjoyed the brothers’ lighthearted banter all the same.
“Odd. This panel looks slightly unfinished,” Aden commented. They had stopped at the restored panel. Onric had not told all his siblings that the needle was spelled, so Ashlin merely smiled at him and shrugged.
“Why do you think that?” she asked. To an untrained eye, the panel should have looked full. The background color was all in place, and the black outlines were also complete. Although the tall figures did look confusing with the puffs of air coming from their mouths.
“It looks like it is supposed to represent a Majis storm,” Aden replied, “but the stormy elements are not consistent throughout.”
Ashlin pursed her lips, pretending to consider his statement. She shared a quick look with Onric, remembering he had once told her his brother Aden was the most interested in art. “What if it is not meant to be a storm?” she countered, trying to offer him another explanation. “What if the tall ones are merely breathing heavily . . .”
A small moment from earlier in the evening nudged her memory. Mistress Cedrice had been breathless after transforming the carriage. Ashlin’s eyes widened in realization, and she glanced back at Onric.
“I suppose that could be one explanation . . .” Aden responded, not convinced. “This panel just feels out of place. Different from the others. More peaceful somehow, especially in relation to the other panels around it.” Aden stepped over to the next panel, which displayed the Majis queen in all her destructive glory.
“Aden,” Onric said, “did you see the glass rose that Ashlin found in the tower room? It’s quite old and very intricate. It is likely from the original artisan masters. You should take a look at it.”
Aden looked back, intrigued.
“It’s the one on the center table. Behind Ian.”
“I’ll go take a look.” He left them with a wink, as if he knew they were just trying to get a moment alone.
“Onric, I’ve figured it out.” Ashlin squeezed his arm, unable to wait any longer. “The magic does not come from the element of chaos, as the councilor claimed. It comes from the harmony of song.”
“What do you mean?” Onric’s eyes were focused intensely on her, and he leaned down close so she would not have to speak too loudly to be heard.
“Look at the tall figures in this panel. They are not causing a storm, they are singing. I know it seems straightforward, but the way the needle hums with energy when you use it also points to the power of harmony, not chaos. I . . .” She paused, despite her excitement.
“Yes?” His eyes were intense, but his face was open. She could trust him. She wanted to trust him.
“I have also found some other evidence, but I am a little nervous to tell you.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “The protection of my status is yours, forever. When I said that I would take the fall if we are discovered for any of this, I meant it. And I still mean it.”
She nodded and took a deep breath. “Earlier tonight, I learned . . .”
Chapter 32
Onric focused intently on Ashlin, but before she could finish sharing her thought, a terrifying rumble shook the ballroom and the light grew dim.
Immediately, Ashlin stopped speaking. The musicians stopped playing. Someone started screaming.
Onric automatically stepped in front of Ashlin, protecting her with his body as he looked for the source of the noise.
A dim light was centralized in the center of the room, near the dais, and a hooded figure in the crowd began to speak in deep angry words Onric did not recognize.
A Majis had infiltrated the castle.
“I’m a castle guard . . .” he started to say over his shoulder to Ashlin.
“Go.” She pushed his back. “Do your duty.”
“Get out of here! NOW,” he replied as he sprinted towards the dais, where Ian stood still as though in shock.
“Ian, move!
” Onric yelled.
The hooded figure held a reddish light between his hands. Eerily, it did not illuminate anything around it, and all Onric could see of the attacker was the edge of the man’s hood. The rest of him was shrouded in darkness. The candelabra overhead were still burning, but some trick in the air had dimmed their illumination so that most of the ballroom was shadowed.
All Onric could see was the glowing orb pulsating, growing brighter as the attacker chanted. The orb throbbed, and the attacker drew back his hand to hurl it at Ian.
Other guards throughout the room ran forward, pressing through the crowd, but none of them would make it to the dais in time.
“IAN!” Onric screamed.
A flash of bright light blinded him momentarily.
Then, the dark haze in the air disappeared and the room was as it had been before.
Only everything was now in chaos.
Trusting the other guards to search down the attacker, Onric focused on the dais. He could no longer see Ian. He jumped up on the back of the raised platform, which was already swimming with the guards who had arrived barely moments before him.
They had gathered around the spot where Ian had been standing, weapons drawn. Onric pushed his way through them.
Ian was kneeling on the floor, bending over the form of a giant beast.
Ian was fine.
Relief flooded through Onric as he assessed the new threat. His men were performing exactly as they had practiced for an emergency, although none of their drills had prepared them for this exact scenario. They had formed a tight ring around Ian, Onric, and the seemingly unconscious beast. The animal had the appendages of a human, but its inhumanly large body was covered in fur and the torn remains of what appeared to be human clothing. A strip of yellow fabric circled its neck, just below the beast’s head which was a ferocious mix of wolf and bear. Large, monstrous teeth were clearly visible as its head lay on its side, jaw open. A real red rose was clutched in one outstretched paw.
“Attack!” Onric ordered the men who were standing ready with their weapons drawn.
“Wait.” Ian held up a hand to halt his brother. “Onric, it’s Aden.”
Onric stopped cold, the screams in the room dulling against the sound of the blood pounding in his ears.
“What do you mean?”
“It was supposed to be me,” Ian said, trying to shake the beast awake. “It was some sort of curse. My feet were glued to the ground and I could not move them, and then Aden jumped in front of me when the Majis threw the orb.”
Onric had to find the attacker. “Make sure neither of them are harmed,” he instructed the ring of guards as he broke through them.
The ballroom was complete pandemonium as people anxiously fought to escape through the many open doors.
He looked down at the exact spot where the attacker had stood. It was the only empty section of the entire hall. A man’s cloak lay on the ground where the attacker had been. The Majis had probably removed the cloak during the flash of light when everyone was blinded. Five guards were scanning the faces of all those in the area, questioning what they had seen.
Onric glanced through the hall. The man could not have gotten further than a short walk from the dais with the crowd as thick as it was. “Block the doors,” he called as loudly as he could. His command was quickly passed through the web of guards spread throughout the room, and the doors were soon closed with surprising efficiency, locking them all in the ballroom.
An ear-splitting shriek tore through the air, shooting above the clamor of people. “It was her!” a woman’s voice yelled from the side of the ballroom. The crowd of people surged away from the attacker in fear, and the crowd parted to reveal Ashlin, standing at the closed door and wearing the cloak Onric had given her. He wished she would have made it out before he ordered the doors to be closed.
Her stepmother was cowering in front of her. “Look, she is even wearing a man’s cloak. She is surely the Majis attacker.”
Silence had fallen over the hall. For a second, no one moved.
Ashlin looked at her stepmother in shock and horror.
“She’s a Majis!” someone else screamed in terror.
“And look,” the stepmother continued shrieking, “her dress is blue like that of the Majis queen! She is here to conquer us once again!” She gestured wildly back towards the tapestry, where the panel of the Majis queen in the brilliant blue dress was front and center.
“Get her before she kills us all!” Screams and threats rose throughout the hall. Half of the people seemed to be moving away from Ashlin in fear while the other half had started to surge towards her, ready to attack.
“Arrest her!” Onric commanded, forcing his voice to carry over the rising sounds of the crowd.
Ashlin looked up at the sound of his voice, her eyes wide with hurt and betrayal.
“Trust me,” he whispered, hoping she could read his mind—or at the very least, his lips.
In an instant, she was surrounded by the four closest guards, and the surging crowd simmered down. Onric’s heart thudded in his chest. She was safe for the moment.
“Do not open the doors until we have seen this attacker safely to the dungeon.” He spoke out to the whole room, which quieted under his commanding voice and watched his actions.
He jumped from the dais and strode as swiftly as he could to Ashlin, keeping his face stern. He locked eyes with Drirsi, who had been one of the first guards to reach Ashlin.
Reaching the small group, he caught Ashlin’s gaze. “Trust me,” he whispered again.
Her face had gone pale, but she gave him a barely imperceptible nod.
“Put your hands behind your back,” he whispered. Then, in a louder voice to the guards, he said, “Secure her.”
Drirsi gripped her upper arm.
“It cannot be her; she has been with me this whole time,” he whispered to the guards, focusing his attention on Drirsi. “Take her to the stables and let her go.”
The guard nodded.
“Take Blossom and go somewhere safe,” he whispered to Ashlin. “I have to stay here and find the real Majis.”
She nodded again, barely moving her head.
“Open the door and take her to the dungeon,” he said loudly. “Come back when she is secured so that we can let everyone else go home in safety.”
As soon as the group of guards had led Ashlin out the door, the entire room relaxed, buzzing with conversation.
Onric turned around. How was he supposed to apprehend the real attacker now?
His father walked up the stairs to the dais, rushing to Ian and Aden.
Onric had already forgotten about Aden, and he rushed back to the raised platform as well.
“It is indeed a Majis curse.” Lord Munney stood over Aden, his arms tucked in his sleeves as he leaned over the motionless beast.
“Is he alive?” Onric asked.
“He’s still breathing,” Ian responded.
“Let’s move him out the back door,” King Frederich said. “We do not know what will happen when he awakes, and there are too many people here.”
“The real attacker is still in this room. You five,” Onric said to his guards, “continue searching among the crowds without raising their suspicions. I do not know what to look for, but see what you can find. Spread the word to the others.”
Five of the guards instantly jumped off the raised platform to carry out his orders.
Onric leaned down to help his father, Ian, and three of the remaining guards lift the beast. In his beastly form, Aden was much larger than a normal human, and the six strong men around him could barely get him off the ground.
“Lord Munney, could you lend us a hand?” King Frederich asked, his question a command.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Lord Munney replied.
His voice sounded oddly high. When Onric looked up at him, the man’s face was covered in a sheen of sweat. His hands were still crossed, buried in his sleeves, but he stepped forward
and slipped them under Aden’s body. He winced.
“Stop,” Onric said quietly, “set him down.”
They lowered Aden to the ground.
Onric glanced at the guard standing opposite him. “Secure Lord Munney.”
His father gasped in shock, but the guard responded immediately.
“What? Unhand me!” the councilor cried.
“Show me your hands.” Onric stepped around the beast’s body.
“I do not know what you mean, Your Highness,” he said, trying to twist out of the guard’s grasp.
“His hands,” Onric repeated.
The other two guards had stepped forward, and one of them grabbed the man’s wrist, twisting it upwards. Lord Munney attempted to keep his hand closed in a fist, but it was obvious that his palm was severely burned.
“Bind his arms,” Onric cried. “Do not let him use his hands.”
Between the three guards, he was quickly overcome.
King Frederich and Ian were still in shock.
Onric exhaled, the energy that had been pulsing through his body since the first sign of the attack beginning to dissipate. “He is the Majis spy.” He indicated Lord Munney.
The councilor’s face spread into an ominous grin. Glaring at Onric, he opened his mouth and began to speak in the same dark language he had used earlier. Instantly, the light began to dim.
Ashlin’s words came back to him, that the magic came from singing.
Onric pulled back his arm and landed his fist against Lord Munney’s jaw.
The man immediately stopped singing as his head reeled back from the impact.
“Do not let him use his voice,” Onric said to the guards, who quickly fastened a makeshift restraint and placed it over the man’s mouth before he could fully recover.
“Take him to the dungeon,” Onric ordered, “and open the doors. We are safe.” He sighed in relief, until a final thought entered his mind. “Arrest that woman,” he called out, pointing towards Ashlin’s stepmother.