I notice the early morning sun warming quickly and the dew drying up. “Looks like it’s time.” I give Papa and Mum another big hug each, then Tui and I start to make our way down to our waiting horses.
Papa reaches out and grabs my arm. “Hang on, Raven, I’ve got something for you. Close your eyes.”
Right before I shut them I see him reaching into his pocket. He puts something around my neck and I can feel him adjusting the cord.
“Okay, it’s ready.”
I open my eyes and look down. Around my neck is a silver cord with a carved obsidian pendant hanging from it. I reach for it and hold it in my hand. It’s one of the most beautiful pieces Papa has ever made. The black stone glitters in the sun, its carved swirls scattering sparkles of light.
“For good luck,” Papa says, smiling.
I leap at him, hugging him tight. I can’t seem to let go. Suddenly I don’t want to leave at all; I want to stay here with him and Mum all day, like when I was little, puttering around, helping with simple chores, spending the afternoon lounging in the grass with a book.
But I can’t. It’s time to go.
We ride in silence for the first part of our trip along the river.
My mind drifts, as it always does when it’s not busy, back to when Miss Lilith confirmed that my dream was true; that the first thirteen years of my life had been a lie. I’d been angry for months. At all of them: Miss Lilith, Mum, and Papa. Angry that they’d keep something so important from me.
Eventually I came to see they’d only done so to keep me safe; that they’d always intended to tell me when the time was right. When I’d be able to keep my secret, too.
And I have. I haven’t told a soul who I really am. Not even Tui.
But right now, I’m fighting back tears. After years of dreaming of my first trip without my father to Greenhollow, my feeling of dread is unbearable, unshakeable. The secret I’m carrying feels as if it’s getting heavier and heavier the farther we ride from Baldachin.
The miles pass under Pearl’s hooves, and majestic views take over, mountains towering on either side of us. There’s not a single cloud in the azure sky. The mid-morning air is already warm, but the path is shaded by leafy trees. The scent of late-summer flowers and sun-warmed grass is carried on the light breeze blowing through the valley. Birds swoop overhead, singing.
With each light clop of Pearl’s steps my unease is left behind. Finally I can’t help but smile, ready to enjoy the ride.
“How’s it going, Raven?” Tui asks.
“I’m better now.” I take an exaggerated deep breath and exhale audibly.
“Don’t be nervous. This trip is no big deal. We’ll be fine. Better than fine. We’re hitting the city of Greenhollow tonight!” This is funny, because tiny Greenhollow is like a ghost town after dark.
“Yes, I know. I’m doing good now. It was hard to leave, but this ride, just the four of us—well, it’s near perfect.”
“It sure is,” Tui says. We continue to ride in silence along the stream valley.
Around noon we stop to let the horses have a cool drink of water and a rest. Tui and I sit on logs underneath a tree, and I unwrap Mum’s parcel of food. Inside is a loaf of my favorite cornbread and a packet of freshly picked blackberries. Tui wordlessly hands me a piece of salted dried trout and I break off a piece of cornbread to give to him. I set the packet of berries between us.
“I’m sure glad your father agreed to let you go with me this time,” Tui says. “This is really nice. A taste of freedom.”
I pop another perfectly sweet blackberry in my mouth. “Me too, Tui. I’ve been so excited for this for so long. I was terrified this morning, but with you, it’s like we’re not that far from home at all.”
Tui grins at that and grabs another handful of berries.
We’re only a few hours away from our camp, so we wrap up the rest of our food and grab a long cold drink of water. We remount Pearl and Pango and continue on down the valley.
Another hour passes; we enter thick forest and begin to climb upwards, following the well-worn trail. Pearl knows the way and needs hardly any guidance from me.
It’s another two hours before we reach our camp, a small meadow on top of a mountain. After a hot day, the sun has passed overhead and there's plenty of shade in the soft green grass.
We unpack our camp gear, setting our bedrolls next to the fire pit. There’s already a small woodpile, and I start to make a tower of kindling. Tui ties up the horses a little ways off, where they settle in to munch on grass. By the time he returns, I’ve got a small fire burning and am blowing on it gently to coax it to life.
“Ah, I knew I picked the right travel partner.” He grins, eyes twinkling, and settles down onto the grass next to me, pulling packages out of his pack. He unwraps each one and spreads them before us: roast chicken, potatoes, and honey bread.
It all looks and smells delicious. “Nope, I think I picked the right partner,” I say, winking at him. “I’m starving.” My stomach audibly growls just then and we burst into laughter.
As the sun continues to move west, I’m relieved to feel the air cooling. But it’s still a warm summer night, without a cloud in sight. We lay back, bellies full, and watch the stars come out one by one. A quarter moon appears on the edge of the visible sky. The air is so clear, the moonlight nearly overcomes the stars. It’s bright enough to send tree branch shadows snaking across the silvery meadow.
We stop talking to take in the magical night. I pour a warmer of tea into our mugs and we knock them together. A silent cheers. To us. To freedom.
When I awake early the next morning the moon is still visible. I stoke the embers to get the fire going for a pot of tea. Tui stirs in his bedroll and I see one eye peek out at me.
“Morning, sunshine!” I greet him, exaggerating my cheer. His response is a loud grumble. Tui is no longer a morning person. I put the kettle of water on to boil and reach my hand toward Tui, offering a biscuit. A hand snakes out of his blanket to grab it. His head appears and he shakes his wild hair out of his eyes, rubbing them with his free hand.
“Morning so soon?” he mumbles, sitting up.
I hand him his mug of tea. Extra strong. “Sure is. Another beautiful day.”
The sun is already warming the air. There are only a few puffy white clouds overhead and birds are twittering all around us. Our horses nicker nearby. Pearl tugs at her lead gently, telling me she’s ready to go.
We finish our tea and biscuits, pack up our gear, and re-load the horses. It will only be a few more hours down the other side of the mountain to Greenhollow.
The ride down through the forest is breathtaking as the morning sun streams through the trees. Halfway down we see the little village nestled in the valley in the distance. The horses pick up their pace.
It’s mid-morning when we ride onto the main village street. Mrs. Willow, the baker’s wife, is the first to see us and she waves us over excitedly. “Well, hello Raven! Tui! It’s so good to see you two! Hang on a second.”
We slow the horses to a stop in front of her bakery as she darts inside. She’s back out in seconds, handing us two brown paper bags. I don’t even need to peek inside, the scent of the piping hot redberry scone makes my mouth water.
“How long are you here for?” she asks.
“Just until tomorrow. We’ll start back to Baldachin in the afternoon when we’ve got the supplies ready,” I reply.
“Be sure to stop by our shop before you go. I’ll save some of the morning’s baking so there’ll be plenty for you to take home to your parents.”
“That would be wonderful, Mrs. Willow. Thank you for the scone! How did you know Tui was starving?”
“Just a guess,” she says, winking. “Are you staying at the inn?”
“Yes, we are, ma’am,” Tui replies.
“I hear there’s a special dinner with music tonight, so you two enjoy yourselves.”
“We sure will—we already are!” I say. “We’ll see yo
u in the morning for sure.” I give Pearl a little kick to get her going again, and Mrs. Willow waves us off.
The Hollyhock Inn is at the other end of Greenhollow’s only street. We do our best to make our way directly there, but we’re slowed multiple times by the waves and friendly greetings of old friends. We’re a familiar sight, but the fact that it’s just the two of us this time seems to be sparking a little curiosity.
At last we reach the inn. We dismount, and walk Pearl and Pango around to the stable, stopping to unload our many packages and gear on the side porch. We unsaddle the horses, give them a quick coat brush, and settle them into their stalls to munch on fresh hay.
Dragging our packages inside the inn, we look for Mr. Murphy, the innkeeper, and find him leaning back in his chair, feet up on the counter, snoring. A cigar smolders in the ashtray. I tap his foot gently. “Mr. Murphy! It’s Tui and Raven.” He snorts awake and shakes his head to clear the cobwebs.
“Tui … Raven … oh, yes! You’re here! Welcome to Hollyhock!” He stands and straightens his shirt and tie, smoothing down the creases in his sleeves. “How was the trip? Beautiful time of year, just beautiful.” He looks past us to our pile of goods. “I think I’ll put you on the second floor so you don’t have to haul all that very far.” He looks at each of us intently. “Urm, one room or two?”
Tui and I both turn blazing red and are speechless. I finally stutter that we’d like two, please.
“Yes, yes, of course.” He grabs two room keys off the rack behind him and hands them over. “I’ll let you two get sorted, then. We can settle up in the morning. By the way, we’re having a special dinner tonight, roast pig with all the fixin’s, our best local musicians, dancing, the works. It’s for the Breamhearts’ fiftieth. Anniversary, that is.”
“Oh, that sounds delightful! Count us in,” I say.
“Consider it done. Well, I’ll leave you two to it.” He sits back down in his chair, puts his cigar to his mouth and works to relight it. Tui and I can’t wait to leave.
Our rooms both have a view over the main street; we run out to our balconies and grin at each other. Tui whoops and stretches his arms into the air, grinning. “This is the life, Raven!”
I’m giddy too. I feel like a queen in her palace. I place my hands on the railing in front of me and take in the view of the town nestled in the valley around us. I’ve never felt so free.
“We’d better get to work, Tui. The faster we can offload these goods, the more time we’ll have for fun.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be right over.” Within seconds he’s in my room helping me sort through the pile of packages we’re to sell to the various shops around town. When our piles are ready I stand back to gaze at them. I’m to take the carvings and crafts around, and Tui’s got the foodstuffs.
I don’t realize that I’ve got my hand on the handle of my knife. Tui notices.
“I’m sure you won’t need that here, Raven. Not too many wild animals about in Greenhollow.”
He’s right, of course. But what he doesn’t know is that it’s not the wild animals that worry me. “That’s true. I’m just so used to having it with me. I think I’d feel naked without it.”
“You might look naked without it too.” He blushes at that. “I mean, you always have it with you. It would be weird if you didn’t.”
“I feel safer with it, that’s all.” I can’t help the steely look in my eyes and Tui drops the subject.
We head out to the shops with our wares. My first stop is the dry goods store, where I spread my pile of Papa’s carved bowls, fishhooks, and fishing lures out on a large table in the back of the store. Mr. Black tallies everything up and gives me a receipt with our account total. I hand him the list of the things I’m supposed to bring back with me to Baldachin. He says he’ll have everything ready and wrapped to pick up in the morning before we leave.
“Did you bring them?” Mrs. Poole asks eagerly when she sees me enter her small food store.
I pull out a feather-light package from the top of my bag and hand it over. “I sure did. These are fresh from yesterday.”
She gingerly takes the package of truffles from me. They’re one of Baldachin’s most highly-prized commodities—they grow in the rich soil around the base of our trees, but we are careful to only harvest a few of the delicate fungi at a time.
“Oh, thank you dear! These never last very long.” She tucks them behind the counter and hands me a small bag of coins in exchange.
It takes another hour to visit the three other shops on my list. I spend most of my time catching up with the shop owners I’ve known for years. They all exclaim how exciting it is to see me here on my own.
My last stop is one of the town’s two clothing stores, where I sell three sweaters Mum has knitted. I realize it’s getting close to closing time so I bid the shopkeeper farewell and head back to the inn to clean up for dinner.
Back in my room I grab some clean clothes from my pack and head outside to the washroom. Inside, I stoke the coals in the little stove. As the fire comes alive I fill the large kettle with fresh water. After a few minutes I pour hot water into the wooden tub and turn on the tap to add some cold, until it’s just the right temperature. There’s a little shelf above the tub with a few jars of oil and a stack of clean towels. I open each jar until I find my favorite: jasmine. I add a few drops, then climb in to soak.
I sit back and close my eyes, for some time thinking of nothing else but the pleasure of the warm scented water around me.
As I’m giving my hair a much-needed wash and good rinsing, there's a knock at the door. “Almost done!” I holler out.
Tui’s voice comes through the door. “Ah, no worries—it’s just me!”
I dry off and dress in my clean clothes: a brown leather skirt and white blouse. I’ve still got the towel around my head when I open the door to let Tui in. He must have been daydreaming as he seems startled when I come out.
“Enjoy!” I tell him, as he steps inside the steamy room.
The anniversary dinner is indeed a grand affair. I don’t know Mr. and Mrs. Breamheart well, but I remember Mum and Papa talking about them. They remember me, though, and Mrs. Breamheart greets me with a huge hug before going back to snuggling with Mr. Breamheart.
Fifty years. Wow.
The huge courtyard between the Hollyhock Inn and the building next door is awash in flowers and candlelight and ribbons strung overhead. A lively fiddle group is playing and the dance floor is already filling up. The feast table is overflowing with plates of meat, fresh corn, loaves of bread, and bowls of fruit. People continue to stream in through the flowered arch in the courtyard opening.
The Breamhearts have lived around here for generations, and friends and family have come from miles around to celebrate. I stop and chat with the folks that I know, but many of the guests are new to me. I fill a plate then look around for Tui. I spot him sitting at a table along a far wall.
“Well, this is quite the event, hey?” he says, as I sit down beside him.
“It sure is. I’d say we timed this trip well.”
We finish off our plates, watching the guests dancing and enjoying the fiddlers going crazy on the small stage.
I look at Tui sideways. “Dance?”
“Aw, Raven, you know I can’t dance.”
“I don’t care. Dance with me anyway.” I give him my best pleading look.
“Oh … all right. You are sure hard to resist.”
Tui reluctantly follows me out to the dancing crowd. We’re immediately taken with the music and are laughing our heads off, twirling each other around the crowded floor. After five tunes we’re exhausted and tear ourselves away. Tui tells me to go sit down and he’ll fetch us drinks.
He returns with two huge mugs of beer. I’ve only had a few sips of beer before and really didn’t like it. But I take a sip anyway, and find it hits the spot this time. Foamy and creamy and ice-cold. Before I know it, half the mug is in my belly and the other in my head. A little diz
zy, a bit floaty. The golden candlelight and music and laughter and movements of all the people seem to blend together into a beautiful mosaic. I can’t stop smiling.
Tui and I dance again and again. We eat rich chocolate cake topped with fresh strawberries. We visit with old friends and meet new ones. We rest. Tui brings back large glasses of lemonade after I tell him that one beer was probably enough to start with. At our table in the corner, I sit with a silly grin on my face, watching the festivities.
Tui turns to me, his face alight with excitement. “Raven! I totally forgot to tell you. I overheard the craziest story when I was off fetching those mugs of beer earlier.”
“Really? What was it?” I’m only half paying attention to him, still feeling light from the beer and dancing. I’m more entranced by the scene in front of me.
“While I was waiting in line, I overhead two fellows talking about something they’d heard had happened way over in Goodacre.”
“That’s a long way away,” I reply absently. Goodacre is a town close to the Bastion, about a thousand miles from Greenhollow and Baldachin.
“They’d heard that some of the King’s officers—Hunters—had ridden through Goodacre. They stopped at an inn there and started asking if anyone knew anything about a missing girl. Apparently there’s a rumor that the Queen had a baby, a girl, many years ago, before she had the prince. And the girl survived.”
All the breath leaves my body. I can’t even hear the music or laughter anymore, only the blood rushing in my ears and my heart pounding like it’s going to burst from my chest.
I will myself to breathe and slowly set down the glass I’d nearly dropped onto the floor. I place my hands in my lap so Tui doesn’t notice them shaking.
“They are looking for her,” I manage to whisper.
“That’s what they said. They think she’s been on the run all these years.” He takes a big swig of his drink. “She’ll be killed if they catch her.”
“Wouldn’t that be something.” I’m trying my hardest not to appear disturbed by this news. Inside I can feel the panic rise. Suddenly, I’ve got to get out of there. I force a smile, will my legs to stand. “Well, I’m exhausted. I think I’ll head up to bed.” I try to make my voice sound steady and casual, but it echoes in my head like it’s coming from miles away, outside of myself.
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