“This will be good for you,” Rian said, around a bite of bread. “You’ll get to air out all your past grievances.”
Vaughn looked miserable.
Serra shook her head. What was it with this group of people and making them face difficult situations in their lives? Rian shouldn’t have pressed Vaughn to share. Serra felt a jolt of guilt travel through her body. She shouldn’t have pressed Reks into sharing with her. It was selfish to assume that just because she had shared with him, he would do the same. She had to let the situation rest, until he felt the need let her in on his secret.
She felt Reks' eyes on her from across the fire and flushed. It was as if he had known she was thinking about him.
A sound from the branches above them called their attention. Everyone looked up, straining their vision to see who their late night visitor was.
“It’s alright,” said Reks. “It’s only Meka.” And sure enough, seconds later the huge tawny hawk swooped down from the branches and landed on Reks' outstretched arm. Reks was ready for Meka and as soon as the bird landed offered him a small hunk of dried meat. “He wasn’t able to reach me in the Wood.”
The rest of them contemplated the flames while Reks spoke to his friend in their strange lilting language. After a time, he said. “There have been more kidnappings.”
“In County Plysa.” Sylvan stated.
Reks nodded. “In Plysa, but also in County Reza and County Berwyn. All along the border of the Sidonia Wood.”
Sylvan reached for the map that sat limp in Rian’s lap. “But that can’t be. That’s a complete break from the pattern. Both Berwyn and Reza have already been attacked. I can understand breaking the smaller pattern-”
“You can, can you?” Rian said his voice sarcastic.
“But in the last three hundred years the death muxins haven’t deviated from their pattern in the Counties.” She finished, ignoring Rian’s comment.
Reks gave the bird an affectionate stroke down his back. “Meka makes it sound as though they were trying to get into the wood, but the protections were too strong.”
Sylvan nodded. “My mother increased the security spells around the border when Mhairie was taken. Only a Dryad can pass through them.”
“If they wanted to take more Dryads, why didn’t they just do so they first time? Wouldn’t they have known that the Melita would increase the security?” Serra asked.
“Well, maybe not the death muxins themselves, but certainly the person who raised them would.” Vaughn answered.
“What was so important in the Wood that they would shatter their pattern?” Sylvan mused.
No one had any answer.
The next few days held a sense of urgency for the travelers. They woke and broke camp earlier, took shorter breaks throughout the day and rode until it was nearly dark. Even so it took them four days to break through the Kendrew forest as Rian had predicted. The Audrys Plains stretched before them and from the Paz Sea in the south to the Anile Mountain Range in the north.
They passed fields that lay fallow, having given up their plethora of fruits and vegetables at the end of summer. Cows grazed lazily on short hill tops, next to sheep and horses.
Here, riding along the narrow dirt roads that connected farm to farm and, eventually, town to town, they had to be more cautious than usual. Sylvan rode with her hood up at all times, ducking her head into her chest, this way anyone looking from far off wouldn’t know that they were riding with a dryad.
Serra hadn’t thought just how dangerous Iperia would be for Sylvan now. With the King’s decision that the dryads were to blame for the kidnappings, anger had risen against Iperia’s previously revered neighbors.
Serra was sure if Sylvan was seen by an Iperian, she would be hard pressed to explain away her presence in their country. Even if they explained that the true culprit had control over death muxins and that a dryad’s magic didn’t work that way, the people would most likely not believe them. Too long the citizens of Iperia had been told that the King was the final word in all that was wise, too long had they believed it. Would there be no one who questioned the king’s decree? Would everyone blindly follow the king’s orders and march off to war?
These were the thoughts that plagued Serra as they rode through the Audrys Plains, making her even more aware of every sound and movement on the horizon. They avoided towns, sending in Reks when they needed something. He had the happy ability of blending into any crowd.
Serra suggested that they get a calendar to keep track of just how many days they had until the last day of the year. As she carefully marked off the days in October, Serra realized with a start that her Maiden’s Day was only a few days away.
She drew a small maiden’s flower on the day in quiet celebration then put the ink and quill away.
In the evenings Serra continued her training. Although she still wanted to avoid Reks when she could, she approached him and asked him to show her how to throw a knife at a moving target. He seemed relieved that she had been the one to break the silence between them and agreed to take up lessons again.
They didn’t talk about what had happened. Instead they ignored it, pretended that they had never stopped speaking.
As Rian had predicted they reached the Mistress Vaneza’s Citadel on the afternoon of their seventh day out from Sidonia Wood, Serra’s Maiden’s Day. She crossed her fingers as they approached the tall stone wall that surrounded a large stone house, hoping that her birthday luck would be with them.
On top of the large wall three gargoyles stood. They were huge, each the size of a horse, though they looked like different animals. One resembled an Arvel, the large cat creatures that lived in the mountains. Another reminded Serra of a dragon, long and sinewy with wide wings sprouting out of its back. In the center was a mythical chimera, with the front side of a cat and the backside of a lizard. They all had long sharp looking claws and teeth and ferocious looks in their eyes. As she looked at them they seemed to shift on their perches, to keep a better eye on the approaching riders.
Serra shivered and drew her coat closer around her.
She wished they didn’t have to enter the citadel.
As it turned out they didn’t.
As they approached the Chimera on top of the wall shifted, stretched languidly and leapt to the ground in front of them, making the earth shake, followed by the dragon and the Arvel. The three gargoyles sat in the middle of the road, directly in front of the huge wooden door.
Vaughn and Sylvan kept to the back of the group while Rian stepped forward.
“So, little princeling,” said the chimera in a distinctly feminine voice. “What have you come here for?”
“We have come to speak to Mistress Vaneza Spiterry of a matter of great importance.”
The chimera sniffed, tapping its long claws on the ground. “Impossible.” She sniffed again. “I smell something… What is it? Hmmm. Ah yes, I smell that lowly mongrel soldier my lady’s niece was so fond of.”
Vaughn pushed his way to the front. “Listen, Firan, we don’t want any trouble. We just want to talk to your mistress.”
The chimera stretched again, arching its back toward the ground. “Yes, well as I said, impossible. The Mistress has forbid the entrance of any but a few.”
“Can’t we just answer a riddle or something that proves we’re worthy?” Reks asked, his voice lazy.
If possible the Chimera’s mouth twisted into a smirk. “A riddle. How quaint, Thief Lord. I would have thought you would know more than that.” The Chimera lifted her nose to the air again and sniffed deep. “Ah, the sweet, clean smell of a dryad and…” she sniffed again. A perplexed expression crossed her face and she moved forward, stalking toward Serra. Reks moved his horse in front of Shadowdancer and the stone chimera laughed. “Really, don’t you think if I wanted to hurt her I would have by now?”
Her large cat head nudged Serra’s leg. Serra felt her breathe in deep, felt the air rush over her skin.
“What are you, my
dear? You positively reek of magic, but not mage magic as my mistress does, some other kind of magic. Something I’ve never smelled before.”
Serra shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m nothing more than a servant in a Grand Lord’s house.” The chimera snorted, but stalked away.
“Listen Firan, if you’re not going to let us in to talk to Mistress Vaneza, maybe you can help us,” said Vaughn, as the chimera moved back to her spot flanked by the other two silent gargoyles.
“Doubtful.” she sniffed, disdainfully.
“We were just wondering if there have been a lot of visitors to the citadel lately, mostly young children.”
“Fool!” the chimera roared, sending the horses into a panic. Serra struggled to get Shadowdancer under control. The little mare eventually calmed, though she still trembled with fear especially since Firan continued to roar. “You think my lady to be the cause of the kidnappings? My lady is a wise and virtuous mage. She would never stoop to taking innocents for her own devices. You will pay for that!” Despite her words the Chimera stayed where she was, as though unable to move. “I would not do that if I were you, little princeling.” she snarled.
Serra looked to where Rian was sitting. His hand was resting on the hilt of his sword. Apparently, he’d had the idea to attack the Chimera while she was focused on Vaughn.
Vaughn held up his hands. “We’re leaving, alright? We’re going.” He backed his horse up, causing all of their mounts to move. Serra wheeled Shadowdancer around. The little mare had never moved so quickly in her life, Serra was sure.
When the citadel was nothing more than a speck on the horizon they made camp. Almost as soon as they stopped, Reks was off again to the nearest town claiming that they needed more bread, even though they still had two loaves left. They were beginning to go stale, but they were still good enough to eat.
Since the area they were camping in was an open field Sylvan added invisibility to her usual plethora of protection spells. This allowed her to walk freely without the protection of her hood.
A chilly rain began to fall on the ground around them, but Sylvan’s protection spells kept everything out, even the rain. Within the bubble of magic the air grew warm and firelight flickered merrily.
A shout filtered through the magic to reach their ears. They recognized the voice immediately and Sylvan lifted the enchantments long enough to let Reks in, bringing with him the cold and the smell of rain.
“Your spells are too bloody good, Sylvan.” He muttered. “I knew where you were and couldn’t get in.”
“At least you didn’t get hit with a confusion charm.” Serra commented as Sylvan touched each piece of Reks clothing and muttering, “Myrdraw.” Soon his clothes were steaming.
It was comical really, watching Reks as he untied packages from his saddle all the while steam pouring off him as though he were a teakettle. Serra bit her lip trying hard to not laugh. Laughter dried up when he turned and carried all the packages to her. On top was a tiny bouquet of Maiden’s Flowers. “Happy Maiden’s Day, Serra.” he said, laying the packages on the ground in front of her.
“Happy Maiden’s Day.” the others echoed.
Serra looked from the packages to the smiling faces of her friends. “You didn’t have to-”
“We know,” said Rian.
“How did you know?”
“You drew a flower on today on the calendar.” said Sylvan.
“But that could have meant anything. It could have meant that we’d need more bread that day or… or…”
“Well, are we wrong? Is it your birthday?” Vaughn asked.
“No. No. You’re right. It’s my birthday.”
“Well, then open your presents. Never mind how we knew.”
With trembling fingers Serra reached for the first box. She removed the maiden’s flowers and tucked them into her braid.
The first box was full of meat pastries with flaky crust. She passed these to her friends, allowing them to eat while she opened the rest. The next contained a cake with chocolate frosting and what looked like candied cherries.
Sylvan gave her a leather wrist brace that would stretch from her fingers to her elbow. This would not only help Serra’s wrist stay strong while she shot arrows, but it would protect her skin from the snap of the bowstring. She also gave her a bow and a quiver of arrows. Not the same quiver that Vaughn had, but still good quality arrows and the bow was most assuredly Dryadian in make.
Vaughn gave her a heavy leather vest with flexible steel plates in it that would protect her from any direct blows to her torso.
Rian gave her a new heavier jacket, lined with soft fur that would keep her warm even in the coldest weather. This was good seeing as how they were going to be traveling to Hawksong Peak, the highest point in Iperia, during the winter.
Reks' gift came in a wide shallow box. Inside resting on blue silk were two long silver daggers. They gleamed dangerously in the firelight. Lying next to them were their leather sheaths, with straps long enough for her to attach them to her thighs.
When she had finished opening her gifts she looked up at her friends, blinking tears from her eyes. If they only knew what this meant to her. She had never had so many gifts on one birthday. Eva had always given her something, but that was the extent of it. Even Bull, whom she’d considered to be one of her good friends, had only ever given her a pat on the back for making it another year without dying from frustration at Lady Hadrienne.
She wished there was something she could do to show them how much she appreciated them.
That was when she had the idea of how they were going to get into the citadel.
She waited until after they had eaten cake to tell them her plan. Reks shook his head. “Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous.”
Vaughn nodded. “I agree. The likelihood that Mistress Vaneza will recognize you as a person is too great. We’ve no way of knowing what her reaction will be.”
“I’ll be so small she won’t even see me,” Serra assured. “Trust me. It’s the only way any of us will be able to make it inside the citadel with as little notice drawn to us as possible. In fact, I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before.”
“I have to agree with Serra.” Rian said. “Though, I don’t like it. I think the risk is great, probably too great. But she’s right there’s a good chance she’ll be able to slip into places unnoticed that we certainly wouldn’t be able to.”
“How will you get in?” Sylvan asked.
“There were vines climbing the wall, I’ll climb those then find a way down the other side.”
“No, you won’t because you’re not going.” Reks said flatly.
“Back in Norwood, you’re the one who said that I would be able to get you into the citadels. Now I’m trying to do that and you’re telling me I can’t.”
“I told you, it’s too dangerous. You saw those gargoyles today. The chimera could smell that you had magic. Don’t you think she’d notice if a mouse smelled like you?”
“It’ll be fine, Reks. I’ll be fine.”
“We don’t even know how long you can hold a shape for.” Vaughn cut in.
“I can hold it for long enough.” Serra sighed, ran her hands down her face. “I’m going to do it and you can either support me in it or make it more difficult. But you won’t stop me.”
She watched as Reks gave a jerky nod. His jaw tight. She knew he didn’t like it, but no one else had offered any sort of plan that would get them into the citadel. Their welcome made Serra wonder if it wasn’t Mistress Vaneza who had committed the kidnappings. Only someone who was guilty would hide behind walls so high with such fierce protectors.
They left their camp at around midnight and walked the mile back to the citadel. Just out of sight of the large building a small stand of stones provided shelter for those who would be staying behind.
“I’ll be back by morning, if not sooner. I don’t know how long it will take me to get around as a mouse.” She pulled off her vest a
nd folded it.
“If you feel like something’s wrong. Get out.” Vaughn said.
Serra nodded slipped her belt from around her waist. “When I get back and change all of you had better avert your eyes.”
She said it mostly for Reks' benefit. She wanted him to make a lecherous comment back, maybe something about how he wouldn’t be able to resist looking. But instead he just nodded with the others. He hadn’t said anything since she’d told him he wouldn’t be able to stop her from going into the citadel.
Taking a deep breath, Serra began her shift. She felt herself begin to shrink as her friends grew larger and larger. Her nose grew longer and sprouted whiskers. Her ears grew larger, until they were almost circular. They moved round until they were nearly at the back of her head. She sprouted white fur over her entire body. And her fingers sprouted tiny claws. She felt a tail burst from her skin at the base of her spine until it was nearly the length of her mouse body.
She lost sight of her friends as she sank into her clothes and finished the transformation. Her new mouse eyes were so sharp she could see the weave of the thread in her white shirt.
“Serra?” she heard Sylvan say.
She scrambled out of the fabric through the arm of her shirt. She emerged from the sleeve to be scooped up by Sylvan and set on top of one of the rocks.
“Do you see the road?” Serra nodded her mouse head, twitching her whiskers. “Follow it and you should reach the citadel shortly.”
“Good luck,” Rian said.
Taking a deep breath, Serra plunged off the rock and into the tall grass. Wading through the grass in her mouse form was like pushing her way through water. The grass brushed against her fur, trying to hold her back, she dodged and darted through the green blades, until finally she reached the road. With a squeak of relief, she stepped onto the smooth dirt.
The going was much easier on the road and she made what she thought was good time, though it was hard for Serra to tell. Up ahead of her loomed the large wall of the citadel, made even larger by her diminutive size. She paused and looked around.
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