by Rhavensfyre
She was expected to act respectful and suffer through the most god-awful and uncomfortable outfits she had ever had the displeasure of wearing. They would appear on her bed in the morning along with an admonishment not to disappear before breakfast. In turn, she had developed a knack for finding ways to avoid the painful social affairs by saddling up her horse and heading for the hills—literally. It was well worth the occasional missed meal, but she thought she had figured a way past that problem, too.
It turned out that she was wrong. She made the mistake of sneaking into the kitchen early this morning, foolish enough to think she could avoid Belinda and still manage to fill her belly. Rohanna hadn’t expected to find her stepmother in the kitchen, since Belinda usually avoided any place in the house she considered beneath her. Evidently, today’s event was important enough for her to personally supervise the extra staff she had hired.
All Rohanna had wanted to do was snag some fruit and bread to take with her on her ride. The telltale riding breeches and tired flannel shirt she wore gave her plans away, which didn’t include playing nice with the local blue bloods, and that had set Belinda off.
Rohanna closed her eyes, trusting Perseus to follow the trail while she replayed this morning’s argument with Belinda.
“Rohanna, you act like it is going to kill you to be nice to our guests today!” Belinda reproached her, managing to sound like the aggrieved party. “I can’t tell you what an embarrassment it is for your father and me when you show up covered in dirt and grime from running around those hills…instead of doing what you should and behaving like a proper young lady.”
“I am not an embarrassment and my da’ would never say so,” Rohanna fired back.
“And that accent…” Belinda continued, speaking over Rohanna and completely ignoring her argument. Every syllable Belinda spoke in her overly cultured voice dripped with disdain for the faint Irish brogue Rohanna carried. “How many tutors is it going to take to get rid of it? It is very unbecoming for a young lady of your station.”
Furious and unable to contain herself any longer, Rohanna spat back at her overbearing stepmother. “Oh, and would you be telling my father that you don’t like his accent either, eh?” She emphasized the soft burr just to irritate Belinda further.
Ro had let her temper get the best of her. Irritating Belinda was like poking a wasp’s nest—it was never wise and it was always painful, but she couldn’t help herself. Luckily, Belinda was always careful to maintain a pleasant attitude whenever an audience was present. Curious eyes were watching their altercation, and for once, Ro was actually happy that Belinda had a habit of overdoing everything. Before the embarrassed chef and his assistants could find an excuse to leave the room, Rohanna made sure she beat them to it. Casting a grateful eye at the maid who surreptitiously held out a small package to her, she ran out the kitchen door before her stepmother could call her back.
Belinda’s voice had followed her out the door. “Make sure you are back in time for the party, Rohanna…and that means enough time to clean up and change.”
Rohanna groaned. She knew how far she could go and what she could usually get away with. She knew she couldn’t avoid the party, not completely, but at least she could enjoy her morning until then. Thinking about the pink atrocity she found hanging from her closet door this morning made her groan even louder. I swear that woman has extra lace added to make the stupid dresses even itchier, as if she designs them specifically to torture me.
Rohanna’s troubled thoughts kept landing solidly back onto the one person whom she could honestly say she hated with all her heart. Cold and calculating, Belinda seemed to see her as a commodity to be paraded about for the best social and financial connections, and her birthday was just another opportunity to promote her personal agenda.
Rohanna was young, but she wasn’t blind or stupid. She had seen too much over the years to believe her stepmother was as nice as she pretended to be in front of other people. She still remembered the first time she met Belinda. She was only five years old and her mother had died less than a year before that. Rohanna instantly hated the haughty woman who talked down to her and pretended to fuss over “the poor motherless child.” Rohanna had looked up into the perfect oval face of her father’s soon-to-be new wife and proclaimed to the whole world that she would never call Belinda “mother”. While her father laughed at his daughter’s precociousness, Belinda fumed, unable to hide her anger and embarrassment. She laughed, pretending to shrug it off, and told Rohanna that she could call her by her first name instead. Even then, Rohanna instinctively knew that it was all a ruse, and did her best to avoid being in a room alone with the woman.
Over the years, Rohanna watched Belinda carefully, resenting the woman for taking her father away from her. Each year he seemed to work harder and harder until she barely saw him anymore. He seemed like a man possessed. He was driven to make the farm grander, to bringing in the best stock and ensuring that their horses were always in the ribbons at every show.
Rohanna missed spending her days with her father, especially their trips to the racetrack where he had started his career in horses. She enjoyed running around the barns and talking to the stable hands and jockeys. They were always happy to keep an eye on her while her father worked. Some of Rohanna’s happiest memories had been at the track, watching the horses being trained and prepared for the upcoming races. There were no other children on the farm, and it was a great treat for her to have other people to talk to. The jockeys always had a kind word and a smile for her, and for the most part, they were about the same height as she was. She knew they would hate it, but she often pretended they were playmates her own age.
***
Rohanna had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized how far they had gone. She had reached the halfway point on the trail, a high point on a ridge overlooking the valley below. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten yet and she took that as a sign that she should stop and rest there. She ground-tied her gelding and pulled out the wrapped paper package the maid had given her. It wasn’t the fruit and bread she had hoped for, mostly some cheese and meats from the cold cut platter. Still, she would have to thank her later. The maid always made sure to have something hidden about her as a snack or treat and that made Rohanna feel ashamed. She didn’t even know the woman’s name, but for a good reason. Any servants she became too fond of seemed to disappear, dismissed by Belinda for some unknown grievance.
The rock outcropping was the perfect place for a picnic. She could look out across the valley from there, dotted with small figures she knew were her dad’s breeding stock grazing in their pastures.
The morning fog had burned off so she could also see her house, shining like a white beacon in a sea of green. The barns sat farther off, their red tin roofs also clearly visible against the cloudless sky. Even from here, you could tell that the house was almost as large as one of the barns, but whereas the barns were a new addition, the house had stood there for years. When it was built, she was sure it would have been considered a mansion, something only the richest could have afforded. Belinda seemed intent on bringing the grand house back to its former glory, servants and all, with a mindset closer to the late 1800s than modern times. Rohanna watched enough old westerns to recognize the similarities.
Rohanna had explored the huge house from top to bottom when she was younger, especially when the weather was too bad to go outside. It was one of the few things she could do to break the incredible boredom of being stuck indoors for hours on end. By constantly being on the move, she learned she could avoid Belinda. Her stepmother always found some unpleasant chore for her to do if she thought Rohanna was just “lazing around the house,” as she put it.
It was during a heavy snowstorm that Ro’s explorations found something unusual. The house was riddled with old passages and hidden cubbyholes that led to several different rooms, and one that led to a secret cellar where someone had dug a small tunnel all the way out to
the old barn. Ro had been thrilled. She had found a way to hide from Belinda and still know what was going on around her. She was like a mouse hiding in the walls, unseen and unobserved. It was a thrilling game for quite a while until…Until what? Rohanna’s mind drew a blank. She squeezed her eyes shut, visualizing the details of the small panel inside her closet until it felt real enough to reach out her hand and open it. Ro would crawl inside the slim passageway, following the smell of her father’s cigar smoke.
Rohanna blinked. The memory was gone. She tried to bring it back by closing her eyes again and concentrating on the feel of her wrist twisting just so until she felt the latch give. The feeling of walls closing in on her almost overwhelmed her. She couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe. Her heart started pounding in her chest as fear rose in her throat, a wave of nausea following close behind. Rohanna scrambled away from the edge of the rock outcropping, her meal forgotten as her mind rebelled. Perseus whinnied and scuttled away, forgetting his manners for a moment as he danced behind her, responding to her distress.
“Whoa…whoa, boy!” Rohanna grabbed at reins that whipped through the air in time with the swing of the gelding’s head. Occupied with making sure her horse was safe, Rohanna was able to push her own fear aside and clear her head.
It suddenly became clear to Rohanna what she really wanted to do. She was already halfway there. Why couldn’t she go see her grandmother? It was her birthday after all. Rohanna counted back the months and realized that she hadn’t seen her grandmother in almost a year. How she could have let that much time pass by? Something always seemed to come up that kept her away, even though she could count over a dozen times she had made plans to saddle up and visit her.
“Well, Perseus…there’s nothing keeping us from visiting grandma today, is there? How would you like to go for a long run, huh?”
Her grandmother’s cabin sat at the very edge of the main property, a good hour’s ride from where she stood now. Perseus tossed his head and nickered at her, making it look like he was agreeing with her. She grinned at the silly horse then mounted swiftly before turning his head towards the track that would lead her to a secondary trail at the bottom of the hill. They would have to hurry if she wanted to make it there and back again without Belinda finding out.
CHAPTER THREE
Rohanna rode wildly along the trail without paying much attention to her surroundings. She was familiar with every trail, every rock, and every tree on her father’s farm. It was beautiful property, and she never tired of exploring it, but that wasn’t her goal for today.
The trees to the left and right of her were nothing but a blur in her periphery; the only thing that mattered was the ground in front of them. There wasn’t time for sightseeing and even though she trusted her gelding, Perseus, it was her job to keep them both safe.
Even her father would object to her galloping through the densely wooded forest like she was, but she had no problem navigating the occasional overgrown root or deadfall they encountered. Despite the danger, the ride was both soothing and exhilarating. The motion of her horse beneath her, the sounds of ironclad hooves hammering a muffled drumbeat against the cushioning leaf fall—that was the sum of Rohanna’s universe and it made her happy.
Lost in the scent of leather, horse, and freshly turned earth, Rohanna barely noticed a subtle change in the air. Moisture gently kissed her face where before there was only heat and dappled shadows. Swirling tendrils of fog gathered across the trail in front of her, creeping low and heavy along the ground. Rohanna pulled back on the reins and Perseus slid to a stop, then tossed his head at the sudden command. His bit jingled, then quieted down when he did.
She squinted up through the canopy of trees around her and saw nothing but blue sky and the sun shining between the leaves and branches directly above her. It was close to noon, the time for fog and mist was over for the day—yet there it was. It was unusual enough that Rohanna hesitated before clucking Perseus forward. “I’ve seen weirder weather than this,” she said, reassuring herself as much as the horse beneath her. The mountain region was known for strange and unexpected weather changes, she was sure there was some simple reason for this as well.
He high stepped a bit as if unsure about walking through the unexpected fog. “Whoa there, buddy, you’re okay,” Rohanna whispered, patting the nervous gelding on the neck.
Another twenty feet down the trail and the fog completely surrounded them. Rohanna twisted in her saddle, the well-oiled leather creaking loudly in the near silence, and peered back in the direction she had just come. The swirling grey mass of fog was now just as solid behind her as it was beneath them. The thin trail beneath his hooves now resembled something closer to a deer track than the wide, flat trail she had been galloping along just a few minutes ago.
More curious than afraid, Rohanna clucked at her gelding, urging him to continue.
It was deathly silent around them, except for the occasional snort from Perseus. He wasn’t a nervous horse normally, but Ro could feel his hide twitch and shiver beneath her. The jingle and creak of her tack sounded abnormally loud within the quiet of the forest, echoing hollowly against the trees that crowded close to the trail. If there were other creatures in the forest with them, they weren’t announcing their presence. Not a single bird chirped or squirrel chattered at them as horse and rider walked carefully forward. The bay was taking his cues from her, so Rohanna deliberately relaxed her posture, conveying a sense of calm confidence through her saddle that she wasn’t quite feeling.
Patting the gelding’s neck again in reassurance, she spoke softly, more to break the odd silence than anything else.
“It’s okay boy, you’re doing great.” The sound of her voice was strangely hollow. Perseus’s ears pricked up, flicking back at her, and then twitching nervously forward again. Perseus finally settled on a compromise, one ear pricked back at his rider, ready for any command, while the other ear pricked attentively towards the trail in front of him…the equine version of early warning radar.
After several minutes of scanning the forest around her, Rohanna realized the grey mist was developing a golden halo. The pale yellow globe of the sun re-emerged high above them, its muted rays steadily gathering the fog into a crystalline rainbow of swirling color. Rohanna took a deep breath. The air was heavy and humid and carried with it the sweet scent of wild roses and clover. She squinted against the sudden brightness and urged Perseus forward, following the sunlight along another thin trail cut out of the woods. The forest suddenly gave way to bright sunshine and thick grass dotted with brightly colored wild flowers.
Try as she might, she couldn’t remember ever passing this way before. Rohanna thought she knew every square inch of her father’s land, yet the small clearing ahead was unfamiliar. The grassy meadow was bowl shaped, cupped between two low hills and framed by tall hardwoods that swayed gently in breezes that didn’t seem to touch the still air along the edges of the clearing. Looking around her, Rohanna couldn’t help but be amazed at the beauty of the place. Despite being absolutely wild and natural, it held a cultivated air of perfection. After crossing a small bubbling brook tucked along the edge of the meadow, Rohanna guided Perseus farther into the grassy clearing.
Without warning, Perseus just stopped, then refused her command to continue on. Rohanna was too shocked to be upset over his bad behavior. Her eyes were glued on what stood in the middle of the meadow. Her heart sped up and she would have clapped her hands together in excitement if she wasn’t holding a set of reins.
She had heard of faerie circles from her grandma’s stories, but Rohanna had never expected to see one—especially not on her father’s farm. Rather than fight with Perseus, she slid out of her saddle and walked towards the center of the small meadow. Even being led, Perseus balked at getting any closer to the stone circle so she let him go. He wouldn’t wander far from her, and he was too busy happily munching the abundant green grass to care what she was doing. She knew she shouldn’t let him eat like that afte
r such a hard ride, but she couldn’t keep her eyes or her feet away from the odd sight in front of her.
A dozen grey stones pushed out of the ground, jagged obelisks that stood in a perfect circle and surrounding a center stone set slightly off center. Despite the abundant grass everywhere else, the area within the circle was immaculately clean. Only the finest spongy covering of moss grew between the stones. Two of the stones were slightly larger than the rest and were capped with a horizontal stone that could never pass as a chance occurrence.
Perfectly square angles made it a doorway, and the familiar shape beckoned her. She stopped at the entranceway and pressed her palm against the rough surface. Rohanna was surprised at how warm it felt. Her palm tingled, and she swore she could feel the stone vibrate subtly beneath her fingers like a living being. Mindful of her grandmother’s stories, Rohanna retreated, backing away from the strange circle to retrieve Perseus before he ate himself silly. A sandy hill topped by a wide oak tree stood a few yards away and looked comfortable enough so she headed for that.
Rohanna led Perseus to a grassless patch and tied him to a low-lying branch. She was still hungry, and from where the sun was sitting, Rohanna knew it wasn’t that far past noon. She had enough time to enjoy her discovery and eat before attempting to find her way back. Digging into her saddlebags, she brought out the rest of the food she had stuffed in there earlier. A familiar looking tree caught her eye, and she was thrilled to find a few ripe apples the birds hadn’t found already. A wild raspberry bush added to her meal and gave her the fruit she had been craving all morning. Ignoring the woeful eye of her companion as she bit into the crisp apple, she chuckled at him sympathetically.