Prophecy of the Flame

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Prophecy of the Flame Page 33

by Lynn Hardy


  “It’s medicine to relieve a headache, and boy, is this one coming on fast.” I mumble, “I almost regret using up my healing power… almost.”

  “Was someone hurt?” Szames inquires, “Do you want me to fetch a healer for your head?”

  “No… I mean yes. Let me start over. One of the new female recruits received a going-away present from her husband in the form of a few bruises, so I healed her. And no, I don’t want someone to come all this way for a headache.” I grate my teeth against the stabbing pain. I begin searching through my hair for the pins holding the flaming mass of curls on top of my head. “If these doggone pins weren’t digging into my skull, it might be bearable.”

  I search diligently through the mop of tresses for the few dozen pins gouging into my scalp. Suddenly I feel a large hand covering mine.

  “Here. Let me…” Deftly Szames begins removing the hairpins. The giant warrior slowly and ever so gently combs his fingers through my locks, searching for any missing pins. A quiet moan slips through my relaxed lips.

  “I’m afraid you’ve found my weakness,” I whisper, not wanting to antagonize the pain that is beginning to ebb. “If you’re not careful, you’ll put me to sleep.”

  “Sounds like just what you need. I will even deliver you to the safety of your bed, if you will let me,” Szames murmurs.

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “What are friends for?” he breathes quieter than my whisper.

  Silently, he continues stroking my hair. Bit by bit, working his way from forehead to neck, massive hands massage my scalp. By the time Szames gets to my shoulders, I am sound asleep.

  The gentleness with which he picks me up barely penetrates my consciousness as I register the tenderness he shows laying me down. Quietly the prince slips from my chambers.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Crystal, something about Prince Szames has struck me as familiar. Maybe a little more information will help me place it. What do you know about him?” In the short time since my arrival, relaxing in the tub has become one of my favorite activities. The fact that two other people are in the room hardly registers.

  The chambermaid demonstrates her duties to Phedra as she replies, “My first year, the prince was the talk of the castle. He came into the baritone with which he speaks at a mere twelve winters. Small for a prince of the royal line, but already he spoke with the voice of a man. It was considered a good omen.”

  “A voice that deep must have been quite comical in a twelve-year-old boy.” I snap my fingers. “That’s it! Now I know why he strikes me as so familiar! I can’t believe it didn’t occur to me sooner. After all, their names are so similar.”

  “You knew a boy with a deep voice, milady?” Crystal kneels down to start on my hair.

  “Did I know him? Hmm…” I sit back, enjoying her ministrations. “In a way, I guess. We went to school together. I had a thing for him, starting when I was about your age, Phedra.”

  “What’s a ‘sk-oo-l’? What kind of ‘thing’ did he give you? Was he a prince too?” Phedra nails me with several questions then adds a quick “milady” when Crystal shoots her a look. Chuckling at the child’s exuberance, I try to answer the questions without creating new ones.

  “All kids receive learning in my country, kind of like the tutors for the nobles.” The amazement on her face reminds me just how far from home I am. “James wasn’t a prince, simply a regular boy who was so-o-o cute. He had these incredible blue eyes. And ‘a thing’… that is what my people call it when you are really, really attracted to someone.”

  I can’t help but smile at the memory. “I went by Becky then, and boy did I have it bad for James. I’d drop my books whenever he walked by. Heck, if I saw him across the room, I couldn’t control myself. I’d speak either way too loud or plain forget what I was saying.”

  Phedra giggles. Crystal shoots her another look.

  “It was pretty funny. My sister Lani didn’t even have to see him. By my reaction alone, she’d say, ‘Okay Sis, where is he? Why don’t you just go talk to him?’ But before I could get a grip on myself, he was gone. Then one day, when I was fifteen, we moved away.” I pause, the innocence of those years captivating my heart.

  “So you never got to talk to him… milady?” This time Phedra manages to remember the title without Crystal’s help.

  “Not for a couple of years. I spent many afternoons lost in daydreams about him. Oh, how I wished I’d gotten up the nerve to talk to him. Then, when I was seventeen, we moved back. Not into the city, but close enough that I was allowed to spend a weekend with my best friend. Visiting new places, exposure to new cultures gave me the time to figure out who I was. It built up my self-esteem. I decided long ago that if I ever had the chance to talk with him, I would take it.” I revisit the past as the story unfolds for my staff…

  ~

  “You can’t be serious!” Jennifer is incredulous. “He’s the star quarterback! You can’t just go to his house and introduce yourself.”

  My twin sister jumps in on Jennifer’s side. “Yeah, what are you going to do say, ‘Duh, my name is Becky and I had a crush on you.’ He’ll think you’re a complete idiot.”

  “Get off it, will ya! You of all people know I have to do this.” Lani’s granite expression softens a little with the hurt embedded in my words, until I add, “Come with me. Then you can see for yourself.”

  “No way! There’s no way you are dragging me into this mess.” As if Medusa stood before her, Lani turns back to stone.

  “Don’t look at me,” Jennifer adds. “I’ve gotta go to school with the guy. You’re on your own.”

  “We’ll meet you at the park when you’re finished humiliating yourself,” is Lani’s parting remark after they shove me out of the car around the corner from his house.

  My knees quake as I approach the door. Stomach churning, I wait for someone to answer the bell. “Hello-o…” The six-foot-four, gorgeous hunk who didn’t in any way resemble the boy I dreamed about for more than two years leers at me.

  “Hi… I’m looking for James… James Cutter.” I force the words past hesitant lips.

  “He’s out. Won’t, be back until late.” The giant, who must be a brother of the short, blond boy, smiles. “Do you want to leave a number or something?”

  “No. I’m only in town for the weekend.” I struggle to keep the tears in my heart out of my voice as well as my eyes. “I’m staying with a friend.”

  “Well, you could come by tomorrow. He should be in all day.” The interest this total stud of a man shows is so unexpected, it makes me smile.

  “Sure… I can do that. I’ll be by tomorrow morning.” I dip my head decisively as I stretch out my long legs, almost loping toward the park.

  Twenty-four hours later, I once again don the formfitting, string-tie, khaki one-piece that shows off my long legs and slim figure. I stand before that same door. Knots wind my stomach so tight, it is all I can do not to squirm as the hunky older brother bellows behind the door he shut, “James! She’s here!”

  Minutes crawls by so slowly, it seems a year passes before a tousled, blond head eases the door open. “Yes?” says the voice that has haunted my dreams for almost three years. The face has changed. The man—for the boy had grown into a full-fledged hunk—who stands before me is more than I ever dreamed possible. Well over six feet, thick blond hair, shoulders to die for, and the face of a GQ model, here before me is every woman’s dream. But the pair of deep pools of blue are the same, and so is that resonant bass voice.

  My knees threaten to give way, so I lock them in place. Words come out in a rush. “Hi, you probably don’t remember me, but I used to go to school with you, I’m one of the twins.”

  When I pause for breath, James supplies, “Becky and… uh—”

  “RaLain, she goes by Lani now.” The silence stretches out into an uncomfortable pause. Figuring I might as well go the whole way, I rush on, headlong. “Yeah, well, back when we were kids, I used to have the bi
ggest crush on you. I’m in town for the weekend. I thought I’d stop by, see what you’ve been up to. How your life has turned out.”

  It takes a few seconds for James to recover from the blatant honesty enough to ask, “Would you like to come in? My mom has a scrapbook.”

  Following him into the kitchen, I notice his back is just as perfect as the front. “Would you like some tea?” James’s mom offers as her son digs out a photo album.

  James has been in the news many times. He is, after all, the starting quarterback for one of the biggest schools in Glendale. After twenty minutes of listening to him drone on about his greatest moments on the field, boredom sets in.

  I change the topic. “So what’s your GPA? Have you applied to any colleges?”

  “Grades? I’m one of the hottest players. Tons of colleges will be begging me to come.” James shrugs.

  “What are you thinking of majoring in?” I continue on the same thread.

  “Who knows? Maybe I’ll go pro before I have to decide.” The jock dismisses the trivial topic of future plans. “Did I tell you I am dating the prima ballerina at the Phoenix School of the Arts?”

  “Really?” I am baffled by the new direction of the conversation.

  “I was dating the head cheerleader for a while. Then the team got volunteered to help a local dance studio. They needed us to help the girls get used to being lifted over someone’s head, since we were so strong and all. Well, I was the captain, so I got paired up with the prima ballerina. After a couple of weeks, we started dating. Then she got the lead part in a ballet. I figured I’d better break up with the head cheerleader before going to the opening show.”

  “Yes, well, I appreciate you taking the time for me today, but I’ve got friends waiting. I had better be going.” Disgusted with his two-timing attitude, I excuse myself.

  “If you’re free tonight, maybe we could get a burger? Or I could call you sometime?” The thickheaded jock has the gall to ask me out when he just told me he is dating another girl!

  “I’m sorry but I have a boyfriend. I am kind of a one-man woman.” I wasn’t even tempted by his proposition. “If I am ever single and in town again, I’ll give you a ring.”

  ~

  I shake my head, coming out of the memory. “That was the last time I saw him. I knew he wasn’t what I was looking for. He was what I have come to refer to as a ‘dumb jock’—all brawn, no brains, and totally controlled by what’s located in his pants. I couldn’t believe I wasted years dreaming about him. I vowed never to do that again. From that day forward, I lost my shyness. If I was interested in someone, I went up and said, ‘Hello’. ”

  “Wow…” Phedra is awed.

  “Milady, it’s very hard to picture you as a shy, awkward girl.” Crystal helps me into a robe.

  “Well, believe it. When you were buxom and beautiful, I was awkward and gangly.” I chuckle. “I still have my clumsy moments.”

  A knock sounds on the outer door as I am getting into my clothes. When Phedra comes back from answering it, she seems troubled. The new apprentice makes a beeline to Crystal. Fierce whispering ensues.

  “A soldier at the door is insisting on talking with you.” Crystal hesitantly asks, “Milady, would you like me to send him away?”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll see him.” I shrug. “My day is packed. I better take care of it sooner rather than later.”

  The uniformed youth comes to smart attention as I enter. The fear and awe I sense are typical, but at this close range, it is a little disturbing.

  “Milady Archmage Reba, sir.” He salutes then bows.

  “You requested to see me?” I smile, trying to ease his trepidation.

  “I was instructed to leave this package in no hands but yours.” The soldier hands over a cloth bundle that has a note tied to the top of it. Seconds after I have assumed possession of the gift, the deliverer stoops in a bow then bolts for the door.

  “Sight.” When the package fails to give a telltale glow, I untie the strings, freeing the attached note.

  “Holy crap!” My hand slams down on the desk.

  Crystal runs in from the next room. “Milady, is something the matter?” She anxiously searches for the source of the trouble.

  “I sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. As long as you’re here, maybe you can help me with this.” I hand over the letter.

  “Last night this gentleman—and I use the term loosely—assumed I wanted a roll in the hay with him. I thought I set him straight. Obviously the threat to turn him into a toad was not enough to discourage him.”

  Phedra’s eyes turn globular as she enters the room at my last remark.

  “Not that I would actually do it—turn him into a frog, that is—but I figured the threat would at least scare him off,” I amend hastily before I continue. “Crystal, can I send this back? Tell me: What’s the proper etiquette in this situation?”

  “To send a gift back would be the greatest of insults. It is considered very poor manners, milady. I take it you have no wish to encourage any further courting?” I nod. “Then simply don’t wear the necklace.”

  I am dumbfounded. “But how can I take a gift from someone I have no interest in? Wouldn’t that be a sign of acceptance?”

  “In a way, milady.” She finishes explaining as Phedra ushers Jamison into the room, “keeping the gift shows you acknowledge his feelings for you. If you wear it, it will mean you wish him to continue courting. If you send a gift of your choice back to him, it will signify your willingness to speed up the relationship.”

  “Well, I suppose you must see this finds a place… somewhere.” I hand her the necklace with three sapphires the size of my thumb set into it.

  “Reba, you realize that with a little flirting you could leave here a very rich woman?” Jamison is all smiles as he takes a seat across from me.

  Without the others of our group, breakfast passes all too rapidly. After Jamison yawns for a third time, I relent and ask the obvious.

  “You mean your empathy didn’t tell you?” He ribs me for the third time this morning.

  Concentrating, I strain my senses. The love feeling is twice as strong as yesterday. He also has a sort of the cat that ate the canary satisfaction.

  “You bedded the princess?” I take a wild guess.

  “Well, we never actually made it to the bed…” The permanent grin he sports is now accounted for.

  A princess! “But what about her impending marriage?” I am stunned at his audacity.

  “We had a very long talk.” He shrugs. “We decided to live each day to its fullest.”

  “And if she gets pregnant?” I arch my brows.

  “Okay, Mother dear.” The smile stays in place, reassuring me he means it in the best possible way. “I have healing magic, remember. With a slight touch, there’s no chance of any oopses.”

  “It seems you’ve thought it through. Jamison, I’m happy for both of you.” I spoon out a dollop of honey onto the empty saucer in front of me. “While you’re here, why don’t we work on those pills you suggested?”

  I bring to mind a spell I have been working on.

  “Across space, through a portal you will go,

  Keeping safe this enchantment with a glow.

  Gel-cap you will be easy to swallow.

  Magical benefits soon to follow.”

  My fingertip tingles as the honey rolls into itself. Seconds later the expected pill is ready for the next step. Repeating the much-used duplication spell, I drop the squishy oval into the honey pot. Retrieving one of the capsules, I hand it to Jamison for the next step.

  The hair on the back of my neck rises as he works his healing magic. In a flash it occurs to me. I can probably imbue one of the tablets with the same spell I used my first night here. Who wouldn’t kill for a magic pill that keeps you in the best shape you’ve ever been in?

  By the time Jamison has completed his lifesaving enchantment, I have a caplet sitting in front of me. I stare, unable to look away. The pills h
ave a soft blue or green glow without active magesight!

  “Well, if this makes it through the transfer, it should cure everything from cancer to AIDS, in addition to speeding up the body’s natural healing process for cuts and breaks. It might even regenerate missing limbs.” Jamison wipes sweat from his brow. “I missed most of your spell. What does your pill do?”

  “Puts your body in perfect physical shape and uses the magic essence around you to keep you that way. If it works, it will double the average lifespan, maybe even triple it.” My smile turns to a smirk. “Seems like we’ll even be able to tell if they work before we use them. If they lose the glow, the spells didn’t make it through the transfer.”

  “Awesome, man!” Jamison’s smile broadens. “Who needs jewels? You can make enough off these pills to be set for life.”

  “Yeah, but besides family, who’d believe they’d work?” Handing over the rest of the blank pills, I put the blue one in my desk drawer to duplicate later. “I suppose seeing the Grim Reaper approach will make a believer out of anyone, but somehow I wouldn’t feel right charging a fortune for these.”

  We journey to the gate, joking the whole way. Seeing the large, blond figure waiting, I realize Jamison’s not the only friend I will miss when I leave.

  “Now I know I’m not late this time,” I remark when I am within earshot. “It’s not even dark yet.”

  “I was retrieving today’s report from the guard station.” Szames indicates a bundle of parchments.

  “Can I talk you into taking another flight with me? And maybe get your help on the staves as well? Your brother doesn’t have the necessary energy. I’d rather not have to use the lieutenant again.” I extend my hand when he acquiesces.

  Our bodies slide smoothly upward into the air. I recall the promise I made last night at dinner. “Would you like to see magic?”

  “You can do that here?” Szames glances at the ground a few hundred feet below.

  “Sure. Hold tight.” With a thought, I withdraw most of the needed power from him, taking from my reservoir what is needed to manipulate his energy.

  “Great help and a wonderful friend

 

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