Pale whined once, and Traven turned. From the darkness, the most tender bloom of light came from a crack in the wall. Catching his breath, Traven walked over to investigate. If the hallway had not been pitch black, even the wolf might have missed the subtle light. Once near the wall, the Hero realized it was not just a crack but a passageway. The opening was narrow and not very tall. Lauger might have been able to enter. But would he have?
The wolf could smell the horse had been in the vicinity, but they would have to follow the smaller tunnel a bit to know for certain if Lauger had taken the detour. Traven hefted his sword, nodding to the wolf.
Silent as a ghost, Pale slipped between the rocks and padded down the tunnel. After several switchbacks the stone walls progressively closed in on the passage. With each step they took, the light grew more and more bright.
Lauger’s scent was strong in Pale’s nose, but so was the sharp smell of Glacial’s blood. Every so often they found a splattering from her wounds. Concern goaded Traven’s feet so that he was nearly at a run as he barreled around the last corner. The Hero nearly stumbled as a light, the quality he had never seen before, washed over him.
The room was similar to the diamond room at Thunderhead, but unlike that geode, this chamber cast a soft, warm radiance. The room at the Hearth had been nearly blinding in its beauty. This one caressed your eyes and begged you to stop for a while. The most significant quality about the chamber, though, was that the light came from all around. The illumination somehow clung to each particle in the room, leaving no room for shadows.
“Princess,” Traven said as he crossed the chamber. Glacial was sitting upon the earthen floor as if in a trance.
“It looks like my home. Don’t you think?” Glacial asked softly, almost as if she did not want to break the wonder that embraced them all.
“It does, Princess. How is your arm?”
Glacial still seemed very far away and ignored his question. “We should be safe here.”
Fearing the Princess to be in a stupor from blood loss, Traven carefully began examining the wound. Clotted blood had soaked through her coat, and as he pulled the cloth from the wound, it began to bleed again.
Luckily, the seepage was dark and flowing, not bright and spurting. Tentatively, Traven reached his hand across and put pressure on the cut. Glacial flinched but did not respond with her usual slap to the Hero’s face. Getting a bit more bold, Traven tore away the Princess’s soiled sleeve and made a bandage of the linen. They were fortunate. It was only a glancing blow.
“You will be fine, Glacial. It just needs a bit of care.”
Traven was surprised to find tears in the Princess’s eyes. Her lip trembled and sadness covered her face. Traven assumed the sorrow was from her recent loss rather than from the minor wound to her arm.
“I should not have doubted you, Hero.”
Traven did not know what to say. The Princess never spoke to him with such a respectful tone. But worse, when Glacial was like this, genuinely vulnerable, the Princess had a beauty that eclipsed the sun itself. The Hero knew he should make some response, but found that he could not speak. A stream of tears cascaded down her porcelain cheeks.
Without thinking, Traven took a bit of cloth and wiped them away.
Glacial sniffed once then straightened, pushing away his hand. “It will not happen again.”
With her face again composed, the spell was broken, and Traven found he could answer. “I only wish to serve you, your highness.”
The Princess nodded regally, her mind back from whence it came. Traven rose and began making camp. With the crystals blocking any Voltaic attack and the light preventing the Shadow Swords from attacking, this was probably the safest haven they would find in this blasted Catacomb. Taking a cue from Pale, Traven had learned it best to rest anytime and anywhere you could.
***
Ornery stalked down the hallway next to Miss Emmert.
Begrudgingly, he had agreed to keep silent until they were alone. Secretly, Ornery welcomed the time to sort through his thoughts. It was not easy, though. The concept that Miss Emmert, his pudgy caretaker was actually Seleen the Beautiful was difficult enough to conceive. But that she was also his mother? That idea was just too large to fit inside his cramped skull.
Finally, they came to a small chamber, and Miss Emmert led them inside. She sat upon the lone bench and smoothed her hair before she spoke,
“Ornery, I know this is —”
All his preparation did him naught at this moment.
“You know nothing! You lie!”
“Please, listen. Your father was to be the one to tell you. I did not think the Faery would just blurt it out like that.”
“You said my mother died! You liar!”
Miss Emmert rose and tried to comfort him, but he backed away. “I did. She did.” The woman returned to the bench and sat down. “Let me tell this the way it should be told.”
“Are you just going to lie some more?” Ornery shot back, then immediately felt bad. Miss Emmert looked like she was going to cry.
“No. And I did not truly lie before. Seleen the Beautiful, the young high-spirited woman who conceived you, died upon the Steppes, and Miss Emmert was born to take her place.” Miss Emmert patted the seat next to her. “Please, let me tell this from the beginning.”
Ornery reluctantly sat down but made certain it was on the far corner, away from Miss Emmert. He could not stand to be too close to her right now.
“Eighteen years ago, I traveled with my mother and Holt. Much like you and I have fared. Mother was renowned for her healing powers, and when a member of the Royal Centaurs fell ill, they called upon us to visit the Steppes.”
Ornery could not help but inch towards the source of the tale. His anger was muted by curiosity about the Centaurs.
Miss Emmert wiped away a tear and continued. “Since your father, Dimitri, refused to accept his Naming Herd, they thought his manhood ill.” The woman paused, but Ornery nodded . He understood what she meant. Miss Emmert continued. “We pulled up on a splendid summer morning, and down from the craggy rocks, Dimitri galloped to greet us.”
Miss Emmert’s lips turned up a bit, and she seemed lost in thought.
“And?”
Miss Emmert seemed startled. “Oh, I had never seen anyone, anything so majestic in my life. He was everything I had ever hoped for in a love and more. He was... he was...” She had to stop as tears choked her throat. Ornery sat in sheer amazement. He had never seen her like this. Not even when Miss Emmert’s own mother lay dying had the woman broken down like this.
For the first time, Ornery could imagine Miss Emmert was someone other than who he knew her as. The change was both welcome and scary. Miss Emmert was the type of woman who would barrel through a taunting gaggle of children and scoop you under one arm, whisking you to safety. You could count on Miss Emmert to be strong and firm. This new woman who cried and found words hard to muster was a stranger to Ornery.
Sniffing, Miss Emmert picked up the story. “Your father says it was the same for him. He knew, just knew, that I was the one he had been waiting for.” Miss Emmert snorted a bit. “You can imagine how his family took the news. Once Mother declared that Dimitri was sound of both mind and body, we were asked to leave the Steppes. They did not wish me to ‘distract’ Dimitri anymore.”
Miss Emmert’s tears dried a bit, and she squirmed on the bench. “We were young and foolish. We thought we had to take matters into our own hands. We thought time would only harden our hearts, not soften theirs... so we...”
“What?” Ornery asked, now enraptured by her tale.
“We ran off — alone. Just Dimitri and me. With me upon his back, your father galloped past the Red Arches and into the Flowering Meadows.” She cleared her throat. “It was there that we were married.”
“Married?” Ornery felt like he had been slapped in the face again. “You never said that! I’ve thought all this time I was a... I was a bastard!”
Mis
s Emmert reached out for him, but he sprang from his seat. She was not so easily forgiven for this lie. To hang that title, bastard, on him his whole life. He hated her for that.
“Please, Ornery. No one but my mother, Holt and Vizor knew. We needed you to think, as everyone, did that our union was a mere tryst —”
“I’m not everyone!” Ornery shouted. “I’m your son, and I deserved to know!”
“We thought it best —”
Ornery cut her off. “You thought of yourselves, or you thought of ‘The Way.’ You did not think of me!”
There was a moment of torturous silence as both nursed their wounds.
Ornery knew he had hurt her, but for now he did not care.
Did she have any idea what it was like to grow up a hybrid freak? A bastard, yet? Then, to find out that all of that suffering you went through was for your own protection? For every ounce of anger he had, he had equal reason to feel ashamed for feeling it.
“In a sense, you are right,” Miss Emmert finally said. “We thought only of your life, not of your feelings.”
“Don’t do that! Don’t make me feel guilty that I’m not understanding your ‘noble’ reasons! Don’t!”
Miss Emmert stiffened, but she did not lash back. “I shall not...” She stumbled a bit as she tried to find her place in the story. “Where was I? Oh, yes. The Druid priest we scrounged was so drunk that I am not even sure he remembers the ceremony.”
Ornery took a seat again as Miss Emmert tried to collect herself. “That night, we knew our bond was seeped in magic. Alone, no. Each of us was just another cog in the wheel of time, but together we outshone the stars in the sky.”
It was odd to think of her this way. It was like Miss Emmert was telling a tale of someone else. Of some land beyond the veil and a time so long ago that it was myth.
“That night, we meant to perform the Ritual of Renewal...” Miss Emmert shifted very uncomfortably, and for a moment, Ornery feared she would not continue. Finally, she closed her eyes. “We never quite, well, we never got around to the incantation. We were… I guess you can imagine what we were...”
Miss Emmert blushed so deeply that Ornery felt his own cheeks reddened, remembering his own body’s reaction to Crystalia. He could imagine only too well what his father and Miss Emmert were doing.
“I knew almost immediately I had conceived — conceived you.” Miss Emmert reached out a hand and stroked Ornery’s face with the back of her hand. “I knew that first night that I was with child. You demanded attention even back then.”
Ornery smiled despite himself. He now knew exactly the first day of his existence. How many others could say that?
“Did you go back to Madame Hesper?”
“We tried, but within days it was obvious that the world was not ready for our union. Your father and I were hounded across the Steppes by forces both familiar and foreign. It was all we could do to contact Vizor and beseech his help.”
Ornery suddenly felt bad. He had never known the true hardships his parents had endured to bring him into this world. His own bruised feelings were becoming not quite so injured.
“Although he was fresh to his own Herd, Vizor sent the Twin Stallions to act as guards.”
Surprised, Ornery could not help but interrupt. “But you said the Twins were old and broken, that they had lost their kick.”
“Aye, and it broke my heart to speak of them in that way, but I could not reveal Vizor’s assistance. Now you must know of their valor. They protected us for the full year you grew in my belly. It was upon your birth day that the worst attack was launched.”
Miss Emmert seemed reluctant to continue, but this time, Ornery did not become upset. He was certain she was not holding back on him. She simply did not want to retread such a painful memory.
“The Twins held the ogres off until your father and I were down into the thickets that lined Echo Canyon.” Tears welled again. “We heard their death cries as we crashed through the brush. I still don’t know how we survived the headlong flight through the Canyon. Your father ran with a speed I have never seen, nor ever wish to again. I clung to his back and stifled screams with each contraction.”
It was hard to conceive of the trauma his mother had gone through to bring him into this world. Ornery had been witness to a few births amongst the villages they visited. Those women had seemed near death, such was the pain from the contractions, and those women were lying down with their whole families around them for support. Ornery could not imagine his mother trying to give birth to him upon a fleeing Centaur.
“Finally, we came out the Gorge and found where Mother had agreed to meet us. I gave birth that night. Your father was so very proud.” Miss Emmert cleared her throat and took Ornery’s hand. This time he did not pull away.
“After our year of exile, we realized that we could not bring a babe into that life. We had decided to give you over to Mother and have her place you with a family in the country — to keep you safe.”
Ornery waited for her to continue, but the woman’s voice left her. “But you decided not to?”
“You have to understand. Once I held you, once I felt the soft fur on your nose, I could not let you go. Mother advised against it, and Dimitri could not imagine parting with both of us, but I knew it could be no other way. And since there was no way your father could ever blend into my society, and the Centaurs would never allow a human and half-breed to join their Herds. By the dawn, Dimitri gave us both a kiss and returned to his brother’s herd to rally support and prepare for our return. When I watched him ride off, I knew that Seleen the Beautiful had died.”
Miss Emmert wiped away tears on Ornery’s cheek that the boy did not even realize that he’d shed.
“Mother took us to a small village and left me there as if I were just another harlot with a bastard child. There, I recovered my strength and ate until I thought I was ready to burst. I shore my hair and dyed it a sickly brown once my figure was obscured by the weight. Mother and Holt returned and set me up with my own wagon. It was then that Miss Emmert was born. The rest you know.”
Overcome by emotion, Ornery reached out and hugged Miss Emmert. “Thank you.”
He did not know why he said it. The gods knew he was still angry and confused, but something about the sacrifice and love Miss Emmert gave so freely had to be respected.
“Ornery, I want you to know —” Miss Emmert was interrupted by a trio of Faeries zoomed in. They fluttered around her ears. Even their whispers sounded like little chimes in the wind.
“I’m sorry, Ornery, we must seek out Emerald.”
His disappointment could not be hidden, “Why?”
“The Fates are not fond of rest, it would appear. The Hero is in grave danger, and Vizor’s Herd has been attacked.”
“Is father —?”
“Dimitri is safe, but he has moved the herd. Come. I will explain all once we find Emerald.”
Ornery did not complain as they hurried out into the hallway. If his father was in any danger, Miss Emmert’s stories could wait. Ornery was ready to experience the real thing.
***
Crystalia sat as politely as she could while the Faery buzzed about the room, chattering like a starling. Did Emerald not realize that Crystalia loathed her? The Faery was the one who tried to kill Traven, not once, but twice by Emerald’s own account! Did the Faery just expect Crystalia to sit around and have a nice chat while Traven was in jeopardy?
“Here, I believe this might fit,” Emerald said with a bit of cheer in her voice as the Faery flew over with a dress.
Crystalia could not believe what Emerald offered. It was exactly the gown she had imagined back in Last Hitch. It was the most beautiful of blue silk, with lace everywhere. The dress was the most ravishing garment that Crystalia had ever seen. “But, what... Why?”
“I thought you might like something that fit a tad better than the thing you’ve got on now. Besides, that dress you have on was out of fashion when Seleen last wore it.”
/>
Stunned, Crystalia just sat there, open-mouthed.
“If you want me to find you combs for your hair, you’d best try this on.” Emerald darted off.
Crystalia barely had time to catch the gown as it fell. The material felt smooth and cool to her touch. She could not possibly wear something so rich. Crystalia had no means to pay for it.
“Are you going to stare at it or wear it?”
“But, I have nothing to give —”
The Faery turned a shade of deep orange. “It is a gift. I am normally not this generous. If I were you, I would take this offering without any more fussing.”
Crystalia nodded. Even though she intensely disliked the Faery, she was acutely aware that her own fate rested in the little being’s hands. Crystalia almost laughed at the thought.
This had to be some kind of delusion. Perhaps she was hallucinating as she had out on the Plains. It could not be that she had found a Fold, met a Faery, and found the gown of her dreams. It just could not be true.
Through sheer force of habit, Crystalia obeyed and changed into the gown. If this was but a dream, she might as well enjoy it, right? The dress was the most perfect of fits, and the Faery dashed over with two glittering gold combs shaped in the image of dragonflies.
“Here. These should keep that rat nest of yours tamed.”
“Thank you.”
Emerald flew back a ways, studying Crystalia again. “We might want a bit of make-up. Those circles under your eyes are not all that attractive.”
Crystalia sat down and tried to position the combs, but her hands were still stiff from the cold.
“Here, allow me,” Emerald said and began plaiting Crystalia’s hair.
“Why —” Crystalia stopped herself. It was foolish to question the Faery, but the girl felt compelled to do so. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
The Faery’s humming stopped for a few moments. “I’ve asked myself that same question.” Emerald resumed her braiding. “You remind me of Sequen, the first Snowy Maiden.”
7 Folds of Winter Page 30