by Fran Jacobs
"Oh, no," Silver said. He jumped down from the stone altar onto the snowy ground. "No, you don't!" And he ran off as quickly as he could.
"Yes, I do!" Hazel told him, chasing after him with a snowball.
Belyisia glanced at me, with a grin, her face flushed with the cold. "I still owe you," I told her, hesitantly, reaching down to scoop up the snow, shaping it with my gloved fingers. Belyisia stood still, for a moment, watching me, but when she saw I was serious, she gave a shriek and started to hurry away, moving as quickly through the snow as it would allow. I chased after her.
The four of us raced across the snow, chasing each other, throwing snowballs, taking cover behind the large stone monoliths, while Trellany stood by the flat altar and watched us.
I was a fairly good shot and one snowball hit its target particularly well, as it struck Hazel on the top of her head so that cold snow melted down her face. She squealed and tore after me and I ran away, as fast as I could, down the slope. It was hard to push through it, so it was no surprise to me when my feet slid and I slithered half-way down the hill and ended up in a deep drift. The cold soaked straight through my clothes, chilling me to the bone.
"Got you!" Hazel laughed, catching up to me, and dumped a pile of snow on my head. I coughed as the icy wet sludge trickled down the back of my neck, and turned to catch her legs, pulling her sharply as she tried to run away. She ended up sitting in the snowdrift beside me with a squeal of surprise.
"If I have to have a cold backside, so do you," I told her.
Hazel just looked at me with surprise, her face flushed, and then she laughed and leaned against my shoulder. "Only you," she told me, "would slip in the thick snow!"
"It took me years to perfect this level of clumsiness."
"I believe you," she grinned.
I smiled back. "I'm having a really good day," I told her.
"Me, too," she said.
"Although we will have to head back soon, to make sure we aren't caught."
"Yes," Hazel agreed.
"Hope Tev is all right. He must be so bored, back there alone, although he probably stayed in bed for a long time and --"
Hazel kissed me.
It wasn't a gentle, soft, chaste kiss, like the one she'd given me on my birthday. No, this was a proper kiss, forceful, passionate. Her lips opened beneath mine and, in my arms, she felt warm and alive. Her slim fingers tangled up into my curly hair, holding me firmly until I started to respond, not that I wouldn't have. I wanted to kiss her. She was Hazel, my friend, the plain girl with the beautiful eyes and warm smile. She was the girl with whom I'd built an army of snowmen and women, had snowball fights with and who had posed for me to draw, in my dusty room in front of the fire. I didn't want my first kiss to be with anyone else. And it made my heart race and butterflies dance in my stomach and, I think, if I hadn't been sitting down, then I would have needed to, because she smelt so good it made me weak.
"You talk too much," she said, when we parted.
I could only stare at her and her face flushed scarlet and she turned away, staring down the hill to where the horses had been tethered thoughtfully by Belyisia.
"What do you think you're doing?" a voice asked sharply. "Taking advantage of my sister like that!"
Whirling around I saw Silver, standing over us. "No," I gasped, "no, Silver --"
"You're a fine one to talk," Hazel said, getting to her feet. "How many girls have you 'taken advantage' of?"
"Five," Silver replied, with a grin.
"Exactly!" She threw a clump of snow at him. "Hypocrite!"
Silver laughed as he bent over to grab his own handful of snow. "Whore," he said.
"Liar," Hazel told him.
"Witch." Then he whooped and tore away back up the hill, with Hazel running after him.
She stopped half-way and turned back to look at me. "You can't let him get away with that, Dale! Calling me a witch! It's an insult."
"Why is it an insult?" I asked.
"Witches don't have a lot of power," Hazel said, quickly, "and rely mostly on incantations and ingredients. Not like a mage who has a lot of power naturally."
"Oh."
"So ... ?"
I grinned, nodded, and joined her in pursuit of her brother, who was trying to take shelter behind Belyisia. We dragged him out from behind her and wrestled him to the ground where Hazel pinned him down, face to the snow, and thrust handfuls of it up under his clothes, insisting he take back his insult. Belyisia and I watched, grinning, as Silver's skin went bright red with the cold burning against him.
Finally, Trellany brought an end to it, reminding us, in a firm but somewhat amused tone of voice, that we should head back before we were caught. Her tone was that of an adult, wanting to be disapproving, but wishing that she were young enough to join in. I didn't tell her that she was welcome to join us, that I heard her and Haran having similar sorts of teasing fights alone in her bedroom. I found it strange that childish antics like this were frowned upon by adults, unless it was part of a secret sexual act carried out behind closed doors.
Hazel got up from Silver, who gasped, with his silver eyes bright, struggling to sweep out the snow from under his clothes and from his hair. His skin was flushed and his hair and clothing were damp, but he was laughing. "I win!" he crowed. "You never made me take it back!" He pointed a finger at his sister. "Witch!" And then he raced off down the hill again, running back to his horse, with Hazel racing after him, shouting threats.
"I can't believe being called a witch is so insulting," I observed to Trellany as we walked after them. "After all ... Mayrila ..."
"I think those two will take any opportunity to declare a war," Trellany said, grinning fondly at them. "You and Aylara aren't much different, you know."
"I know," I said, with a wistful smile.
We were quiet as we mounted up and started to ride back to White Oaks. We were tired, after a morning of running around in the snow, and because of that it took slightly longer than expected to ride back. We clattered into the courtyard just before the lunch bell was due to sound.
And found Tival standing in the courtyard, arms folded across his chest, waiting for us.
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Chapter Twenty-One
CONSQUENCES
I wiped at my sweaty forehead with my dirty sleeve and fanned the bottom of my shirt to try and generate some air to cool my skin. The kitchen was stifling, but then it always was. I didn't know how I was going so survive the rest of my month of punishment, down here in the heat. Even more, I didn't know how the other members of the kitchen staff managed to work every day in a furnace like this.
Tival had sentenced Silver and I to a month of this tortuous punishment, to both kitchen and hall duty, for using magic to do something that I was forbidden to do. Belyisia had been assigned only two weeks for coming along with us. Hazel had to take her punishment elsewhere because she was now forbidden to speak to me, or see me outside of class. Tival had already been concerned about the way that her work was suffering since my arrival, and the stone circle affair had been one step too far, as far as he was concerned and he had decided to separate us. The way that she had cried when Tival had passed judgment on us, had confirmed to me that he was probably right to do this, that she really was besotted with me. I hoped that making the break now would make it easier for her when the truth of who I really was came out.
In the back of my mind I had had the idea that working in the kitchens of White Oaks would be like my time spent in the Golden Ox, which was why I had insisted on Tival punishing me like the others, and not sending me to my room as he had wanted. But I had quickly found out that the kitchens in White Oaks were not like I had thought they would be at all. It was a crowded, busy, hot and suffocating place, where time seemed to stop. The first couple of days had been frightening, a chaotic whirl of orders and noise. It had given me a headache and left me feeling confused and dazed. Even Silver had lost a little of his cocksu
re ways and seemed nervous and uncomfortable. And, even after a few days, when we were a little more used to the situation, it still wasn't any easier to bear.
I caught Ulore, the Master of the Kitchens, watching me, as I tried to fan air up under my shirt, so I quickly let go of its hem and turned back to the pile of dirty pots I had in front of me. Releasing the shirt meant that it now stuck against me, under my arms and across my chest, in all its dirty, greasy glory, which made my skin crawl. I could never get the kitchen stink out, not completely. Four days of punishment and I'd had four long, hot baths, and the stink still remained on my skin and my hair.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs, that announced Silver and Belyisia's return, was a welcome relief to me. I turned away from the basin, wiping my hands dry on the front of my filthy shirt. "I have put our supper aside," I told them, gesturing to the counter where I had covered our plates with a couple of other plates to try and keep it warm.
"Thank you," Silver said, lifting the cover from one plate.
"Did anyone miss me while I was stuck down here all day?"
"Hazel did," Silver said.
"We explained why you were no longer allowed in the hall," Belyisia told me. "She wasn't happy. She complained that she will never get to see you now, except for in class where you're both always watched."
"I'm not happy about it either," I said. "At least waiting on the others in the hall was a change of scenery, and an escape --" I glanced meaningfully at Master Ulore and Belyisia nodded sympathetically. "But I can't blame Ulore for not wanting to let me back, in case I break any more of his precious mismatched plates. I'm only surprised it took me three days until I dropped something!"
Belyisia grinned, but her smile seemed forced and it was then that I noticed how quiet Silver was as he stared down at his, now uncovered, supper plate with frightening intensity.
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
"No," Silver said, "no."
"But ... ?"
"There was just a new arrival," Belyisia said, "that's all. It always brings back memories, for all of us ..."
"A new arrival?" I said. "But the snow is several foot deep out there --"
"He didn't come from far, just from Elmstead, a day's ride south of here. Of course, he came on foot ..."
"Why?" I said. "What ... what happened to him?"
"His parents don't like magic," Silver said, in a flat voice. "They tried to beat it out of him when they found out, so he crept out his window and made his way here."
"Gods."
"He'll be all right, in a few days. He's a little shaken up at the moment. Justarn was appointed to look after him, to be his sponsor, and that will help settle him in," Belyisia told me.
"Did you all have sponsors?" I asked.
"Of course," Silver said. "Even though I came here with Hazel and Willow, we still had our own sponsor to show us around and look after us. It isn't easy being here, Candale. Not at first."
"I can imagine," I said.
"I'm not sure how!" Silver said. "You came here with your best friend and a bodyguard so that you could get better. This isn't a place of exile for you, as it is for many people. You will see your family again, you will go back home to a normal life. You haven't had to leave everything that you've ever known behind you."
"No," I whispered. "I haven't --"
"So don't pretend that you understand what this is like for that boy, Candale, because you can't." He walked away from me with his supper plate and I was left feeling confused as I stared after him.
Belyisia touched my arm gently with her fingers. "Coming here wasn't exactly Silver's idea," she said.
"No? But I thought he was really proud of his gift."
"He is, but he still suffered for it, back in his village. As did his sisters."
I looked over where Silver sat at the rough wooden table, pushing his slithers of cold turkey around in the gravy they swam in. "I thought he liked being here."
"He does. We all do, it's our home, but we can't forget what brought us here, why we were sent away from our homes. Even those who wanted to come here are aware that it's their magic that brings them here and takes them from their family at the same time."
I nodded. "What brought you here?"
"Like Silver, the other children in my village didn't like my gift and one day I stood up for myself. I ended up getting into a physical fight with another girl. I used my magic to protect myself and, afterwards, my neighbours insisted that I be sent away. They thought that I was dangerous." Her jaw tightened. "The other girl was older than me, bigger and stronger, but apparently, that was all right. She was allowed to use her weight and height difference against me. I wasn't allowed to use my skills, my magic, against her."
"I'm sorry," I said, not sure what else I could say.
Belyisia shrugged. "I wouldn't be. I have a good future ahead of me now. I can go home and become a baker, like my parents, if I want to or I could travel, become a scholar, an advisor, or even use my magic to help protect people. I can do whatever I want to now, Candale, and most of us here wouldn't change our magic, and what it has brought us, the good and the bad, for anything. But, when half-starved, terrified children arrive in the middle of the winter, suffering from exhaustion and exposure, we're all reminded of how and why we're here."
"I can understand that," I said quietly.
"I know," Belyisia said. "And I think Silver was wrong with what he said. I know that you came here for different reasons than the rest of us, but it was still a form of exile. You were still sent away from your home and family against your own will."
"Yes," I said uncomfortably. I hated that I was lying to her.
"But I hope that you will come back to visit us freely," she continued. "Because we're going to miss you when you leave."
"That's not for a while yet, though."
"Actually, it's not far off. The snows have already stopped and the weather is starting to get warmer. In about two weeks, or so, the snow will be mostly gone."
"And my grandfather will leave home to collect me." I sighed. "And it will only take a couple of weeks for them to get here."
"It will seem like a lifetime," Belyisia said, "putting up with you for that long!"
But I couldn't return her bright smile; my mind was racing. Only a month, or so, of White Oaks, of my friends, minus Hazel, and I would be leaving to go back home, to be re-emerged into the world of Court, into the world of Prince Candale. I wasn't sure I could face that again.
Most of our supper ended up in the waste bin that night, with the other scraps of food, and then we turned our attention to the remains of the washing up. It was always a job that seemed endless, particularly at the end of the day when I was tired. This night it seemed worse than usual and it didn't help that my shoulders and back were a blaze of agony. I tried rolling them and leaning backwards slightly, in the hope that might ease some of the kinks in my back, but nothing seemed to work.
"Are you all right, lad?" Etasy, one of the kitchen-hands, asked me, as he joined Belyisia to help with the drying.
"Just stiff," I said, with a forced smile. "Think I'm getting a headache as well, but I'll be fine."
"You could always ask the King of the Kitchen for a break," Etasy said, glancing over at Ulore.
"No," I said. "I'm fine. Ulore already thinks I'm a clumsy waste of space after dropping all those plates yesterday. I rather not have him think I'm a weak invalid as well."
"Are you sure?" Belyisia asked me. "You're really pale."
"I'm fine," I said, forcing myself to smile at her, as I handed her another clean dish to dry.
But a moment later, almost without any warning, the fit hit me.
I crumpled to the floor and the crash of the dishes, falling down around me, was the last thing I heard before darkness took me.
***
"You had a fit." Trellany's voice was firm and there was no attempt made to hide her annoyance. She was sitting on her haunches in front of me and I was ly
ing on the floor by the sink where I had fallen. There was broken crockery on the floor, with traces of blood, mine, no doubt, splattered around. Beyond her I could see Silver, and Belyisia, but there was no sign of anyone else.
"I know," I told her. There was no mistaking the ache in my body, or the familiar aftertaste of vomit in my mouth. I felt strangely tired, too, more so than usual.
"You bashed your head rather badly on the floor."
"I did?" I reached up to explore my head with careful fingers, but I could feel nothing beneath my curls.
"Silver healed you."
I glanced beyond her at the mage. "Thank you."
"I told you you were overdoing it," Trellany said.
"Yes," I said. "I know. I'm sorry."
"I'm not letting you work down here anymore."
"No," I gasped. "You can't do that! I won't let you."
"I would have thought you'd be glad to get out of here," Silver said. "Why stay here if you don't have to?"
"Because I don't want to be treated differently," I snapped. "Or to have people staring and whispering about me. I'm sure you can understand that, how it would feel to have people looking at you strangely because of something that you can't help." Silver flinched and gave me an apologetic, nervous nod.
"This is different," Trellany said. "This isn't about you wanting to be treated like everyone else. This is about your health and the fact that you can't cope with this. Please, Candale. What do you think your grandfather will say when he finds out about this?"
"Probably that I was an idiot for disobeying Tival and his orders in the first place, that I deserved my punishment and should have just taken it more slowly," I said. "Trellany, if you're that worried about me then come down here with me every day and keep an eye on me. But I can't stop. I need to do this."
Trellany argued with me about it, all the way back to our suite. I think she would have gone on doing so if I hadn't taken myself into my room, locked the door and got myself ready for bed. The magic Silver had used to heal me, and the fit itself, seemed to have taken a lot out of me and I fell easily asleep, with the smell of vomit still filling my senses.