by Queen, Nyna
Rapt calls of “ooohh” and “aaahh” rippled through the crowd.
Alex prepared herself for a wave of heat to hit them, but there had to be some kind of enchantment around the fire because she felt nothing.
The flames died as suddenly as they had sprung up, leaving behind nothing but a pile of ashes in the round hollow.
People applauded politely. Alex joined them solicitously.
She expected the magic to die, but instead it kept coming. It rose, deep from the earth around them, flowing from the very roots beneath her feet, traveling toward the center of the mound as if sucked in by a great, hungry mouth. It built on and on, squeezing her in its mighty grip, so rich and potent that every hair on her body stood on end. In the visual spectrum of her shaper senses, she could see its glow, thousands of tiny dots of white-blue energy streaming through the ground toward the mound.
Alex dug her fingers into her upper arms to keep from scratching at her skin. The glyphs on the sticks ignited, and the amplifier crystals pulsed brightly, thumping blue hearts that pumped life into the ground. Energy churned the air like an invisible storm, phantom winds tugging on people’s hair and skirts and rustling the leaves and the surface of the lake.
In the eye of the magical storm, the mound of ash trembled, and a tiny sprout pierced the earth.
Alex gasped. She wasn’t the only one.
The sprout shivered and shot upward, winding and thickening as it did.
Mutely, Alex stared as in front of her eyes, its tip split and delicate branches feathered out in all directions, reaching for the sky like arms eager for a hug. The shoot thickened, turning into a solid trunk, soft green skin transforming into rough bark. The stem rolled higher and higher, over the heads of the cloaked figures, developing more branches as it grew.
Leaves unfurled, first delicate and transparent, they quickly thickened into a bright green foliage, shaping themselves into a verdurous cloak around the tree. Round flower buds appeared in clusters along the tree limbs and popped open in small explosions of white tipped with pale pink. Within minutes, a fully grown apple tree in breathtaking bloom towered before them, its stunning glory brightly illuminated by the torches.
The hooded figures slowly lowered their arms and the magic died away.
Thunderous applause shook the clearing as people cheered and bravoed.
Alex just gaped.
Mother’s mercy and Jester’s grace! And the Blind Child’s cursed eyes in the dark!
“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Bonny breathed as the cloaked trueborns solemnly bowed to the audience. “It’s alway so stunning to watch.”
Alex retrieved her jaw from the ground.
“What the hell are those people?” She had never seen anything like it before.
“They are Florakin.”
It was Josy’s voice that answered. The girl had quietly appeared at Alex’s other side. In her delicate layered dress, pattered like the wings of an emperor butterfly, she all but glowed in the encroaching gloom, a magical creature sown from brilliant shades of blue, rimmed with black and dotted with little stars.
“They have a botanical talent. It’s very rare, almost as rare as my healing, and the two talents are closely related. Only where a Healer responds to the call of the human body, the Florakin respond to plant life.”
Josy’s honey-colored eyes were fixed on the tree. “Most of them work for the Department for Sustenance and Sustainability, helping to enrich the fields where our crops grow and the pastures for the livestock. Some work in forest conservation, others are gardeners.”
She cast Alex a little glance from the side. “Grandmother is a Florakin. That is most likely where I got my healing talent from.”
Alex’s eyebrows flew up. Heloise in a garden? It seemed impossible to imagine that this woman could sow anything but discord.
“I didn’t know.” It was the most neutral thing Alex could think of saying.
Josy sighed. “She isn’t using her talent much anymore these days.” A sad expression washed over her features. “We used to garden a lot together when I was little. She was different then, less rigid. I think when Grandfather died, she somehow lost her connection to the land. Now she hardly spends any time in the garden.” Her eyes flickered back to the tree. “When I was very young, she would always take part in this ceremony. Her gift is very strong.”
Alex frowned at the tree. “How do they do it? Even with six strongly gifted people and amplifier crystals—that was a shitload of magic.”
Josy flinched. “Don’t say ‘shitload’,” she muttered. “You might cause someone to have a heart attack. You are right, though. That was … a lot … of magic. Forcing a plant to grow like this would be like coaxing the human body to mend every organ and regrow every single bone in a matter of minutes. It can be done—but it takes its toll. These Florakin”—she nodded at the cloaked figures—“they will have to rest for several days before they can safely use their magic again. But that is not the worst part. There is a reason why nature designed the body to heal itself the way it does, little by little. Forcing the body to mend its tissues too quickly will cause them to be less stable. For example, speed-healed bones often turn out brittle and tend to break easily again. It’s the same with plants. Usually, the Florakin only feed them bits of their energy, supporting and enhancing the plant’s natural growth process, just like I encourage the body’s own healing process and provide it with the energy it needs. But forcing a tree to grow from the seed in a few minutes is unnatural, and therefore the tree’s cellular structure suffers. As a consequence, it will be more prone to scab and canker and other tree sicknesses.”
Josy studied the apple tree towering between its bother and sister trees and the corners of her lips turned down. “Normally, such a tree can live for eighty years or more, but this one will only last for a decade, two at most.”
Alex peered at the tree as well, so striking in its full blooming glory. Magicked up from thin air at the cost of most of its life span, and all for people’s entertainment.
She would never understand these trueborns. Then again, it was easy to judge when you had grown up on the other side of the social chasm and not in a world where wonders like this were everyday business. Hard not to lose perspective then.
The Florakin had left. Instead the musicians had returned—no longer costumed, though—and struck up a cheerful tune of fiddles, pipes and drums, the kind you expected to hear in a tavern.
Bonny seized Alex’s hand. “Let’s go, Lexy!”
Alex didn’t move. “Go where?”
“The tree, silly! That’s always the best part of the ritual.”
She tugged on Alex’s hand, but Alex dug her heels in. “Which part are we talking about?”
Bonny looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “The dance, of course! That’s what it’s all about!” She yanked at her again. “Comeon-comeon-comeon!”
The—?
Josy’s words from earlier reverberated through Alex’s head. And, of course, if an unwed woman dances barefoot around it on Midsummer Night, the spirits will help her find her true love that night.
Sure enough, all around them women—teenage girls most of them, actually—were enthusiastically taking off their shoes and making a beeline for the freshly grown tree.
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!
Josy, who had already ditched her ballet flats, took Alex’s other hand with a merciless grin on her face that told her she knew exactly what Alex was thinking. “Come on, Alexandre. You’re unwed, too.”
The look in Josy’s eyes promised she wouldn’t get away.
Why me?
Grinding her teeth so hard her jaw muscles started to hurt, Alex kicked off her sandals and let Josy and Bonny drag her through the crowd.
At the tree, several girls had joined hands and were dancing around it in a merry ring to the sound of the music and the clapping and cheering of the bystanders. When one of them left the circle, a new one took her place, nev
er breaking the circle.
Those who left went over to the edge of the lake and sat on one of the many benches scattered there. Alex also registered a growing line of young men with goofy grins on their faces, whom servants were handing wet cloths and small towels from huge baskets. As Alex watched, the guy at the front went over to the first girl at the beach and knelt down in front of her, wiping her feet with the cloth before drying them with the towel and helping her back into her shoes. The next followed.
Ah. Alex suddenly had the feeling that the enthusiasm of most participants was less from taking part in a revered old ritual itself and more from the prospect of getting one’s feet dried and massaged by a handsome young lad—and perhaps a nice little moonshine stroll afterwards?
She idly wondered just how many bonds of marriage foredoomed to failure were entered into because the happy couple had kissed for the first time under the Solstice Moon and thought their love was fated.
Cheered on by the crowd and hustled by Bonny and Josy, Alex bounded into the dancing circle. Hands snatched hers and she flew, her hair a golden cloud around her head, bare feet barely touching the ground. Music and laughter rang in her ears, and everything blurred, the world becoming a spinning whirl of light and dark, a golden circle backlit by the flames of the torches.
Heat flashed through her veins as if she’d chugged an entire round of shots, and when Alex finally let go, she was dizzy and it took her feet a moment to find the ground beneath them.
When she felt safe enough not to topple over, she retrieved her sandals and dutifully took a seat on one of the benches on the shore, batting her lashes at the young man—one Roy Patrique de Phéné—who had the pleasure of being in line to give her feet some well-needed treatment. He tried to engage her in conversation while he wiped and toweled her feet, but Alex was too edgy to listen to his clumsy flirtations, and the moment her feet were dry, she slipped them into her sandals, jumped up and excused herself, leaving the disappointed young man behind.
Not far away, Bonny was lost in a bantering chat with a soft-faced young lord who seemed genuinely interested in her. Hopefully, he wasn’t just eager for her knowledge of the art auction. Maybe the ancient ritual would bring Bonny some luck, the Great Mother knew the girl could use it.
Alex sneaked off quietly before she could be forced to take part in any other nonsense.
The park lay dark and quiet. Evening flowers were opening their blossoms to the deep purple sky, perfuming the mellow evening air with their heavy sweet scents.
The magic torches splashed dots of flickering light onto the grass, illuminating patches of little white daisies perfect for a game of ‘he loves me, he loves me not’.
Alex rolled her eyes. Spare me! She marched along one of the paths leading away from the lake. She was still contemplating where to hide best when a glimpse over her shoulder showed her that Max and Josy were approaching her from the direction of the lake at a quick pace.
Great!
Alex sighed and waited for them.
Max waved his hand. “Alex!”
Josy elbowed him in the side with a warning glance. “Alexandre,” she said pointedly.
Max rolled his eyes and said in a very nasal tone of voice, “Alexaaaandre.”
Alex swallowed a grin and raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t the two of you supposed to always stay in vision range of your parents at ‘every single minute’ of this event?”
As far as Alex remembered that had been the operative term for the two of them to be allowed to take part in the festival. If it had been up to Edalyne, neither of them would have come at all. Since all the security at the Royal Palace hadn’t prevented someone from attempting to murder her husband in plain sight, Alex could understand her in a way.
Max made a rude noise and Josy looked as if she were about to roll her eyes but stopped herself at the last moment. She let out a resigned sigh.
“They are over there.” She pointed to two small figures close the lake’s shore, dark shapes against the light coming from the torches. They were talking to a tall guy with a long mane of silver-white hair Alex hadn’t seen before.
“Lord Sarnai is a pretty major player with lots of influence in several provinces,” Josy explained. “Many council men and women care for his opinion. Mom and Dad are trying to convince him to vote for Dad. It would be a big success, maybe even decisive for the outcome of the election. That’s why they couldn’t get away right now and sent us instead. But we are supposed to return immediately after relaying our message.”
“It’s not fair!” Max volunteered. “The other kids are all allowed to run around and play!”
“Life’s rarely fair,” Alex said. “In fact, the older you get, the more unfair it becomes. Come, let’s take a little walk. I need to run off the cupcakes I had for dinner.” And we better get out of earshot of anybody close enough to overhear.
Josy nodded, understanding the subtle message.
She and Max fell in step on either side of Alex.
Max grabbed her hand. “I also had cupcakes.” He beamed up at her. “Five, I think.” He counted under his breath. “Or maybe six. The chocolate one’s were my absolute favorite.”
Big surprise there.
Alex nudged his side. “So, how are you enjoying the festival? Apart from the cupcakes and the not running part?”
The kid grimaced. “Boring people, wearing boring things, talking about boring stuff.” He sighed. “The parade was awesome, though, although I didn’t get to have any of the candy. Oh, and one of the other boys has an enchanted hover-dragon, did you see it?” His eyes sparkled. “I want to ask Daddy if he can make me one for my birthday, too. It’s not that long anymore. He always crafts something for me. Perhaps he can even make one that breathes actual fire instead of just puffing out smoke. That would be soooo cool, wouldn’t it?” From the longing expression in his eyes, Alex could tell he was already planning how to best show off in front of his friends.
She felt a little pinch in her stomach. She didn’t even have a clue when his birthday was. How would she afford a present? Would she even be there for it?
A little grove peeled from the shadows to their left and Josy discreetly pointed toward a small nook between the trees. The sound of rushing water was coming from it. Alex nodded, making a note to decide on a birthday present for Max later.
They ducked under the branches and found themselves in a sheltered little alcove.
A stony water basin protruded from a rock overgrown with vines. They were tipped with small white blossoms which shimmered in the darkness. From an ornate faucet, clear water gushed into the basin. The serene face of a woman, carved from alabaster white stone, floated in the water. Her eyes were closed and a gentle smile curved her lips. With the white blossoms reflected in the water, it looked as if she were swimming in a sea of stars. Alex wondered why this statue was hidden away from the main path.
Josy joined her at the rim of the basin. The slosh of the water was loud enough to prevent anyone from overhearing them, but she still lowered her voice to a whisper. “Uncle Darken has sent the meeting point coordinates to Dad. Here’s the print.” She slipped a small piece of crystalline paper with tiny numbers into Alex’s hand. “Just feed them into the acum magnis the way we showed you.”
Coordinates. Right.
“Anything else?”
Josy bit her lower lip. “He says for you to be careful. The whole area is riddled with magical booby-traps and dud-bombs from the war.”
As if sneaking out of a warded, highly patrolled estate wasn’t tricky enough, now she also had to track through a bomb-riddled mountain terrain. If that didn’t sound like fun.
“Alright.” Alex tugged a strand of blond hair behind her ear, trying to wrestle down the anxiety before it had a chance to emerge and dance on her nose. “I’ll go and get ready. And you two”—she pointed at them—“return to your parents by the most direct route. No straying.” She tried to sound stern but even to her own ears she sounded gently
exasperated.
After a good amount of grumbling, the kids took off toward the lake.
Alex turned to the manor house instead. Without any strolls or detours, it didn’t take her long to reach the house on the hill. In spite of her efforts, anxiety wormed its way through her bones, making her twitchy. Her heart was beating a little too fast, and when she reached the stone steps leading up to the mansion, she felt distinctly light-headed. Sweet Jester, she should have eaten more this afternoon and not just some bloody sweets. Low blood sugar was bad for a job like hers.
The area up here was quieter and less frequented as most people were still down by the lake. Only a handful of guests were scattered among the pavilions close by, most of them absorbed in deep conversations, no doubt animated by all the fruit punch and spirits.
Alex glanced over her shoulder. The sky was a bruised black now, but the park was glowing with golden lights and sounding with ripples of laughter.
Nobody paid her any mind as she climbed the stairs and entered the softly lit manor. The nave was completely deserted. Small magic lanterns spread their pale glow on the stairwell, but most of their light was sucked up by the dark wood. Starlight sifted through the glass ceiling, painting their likeness onto the gleaming floor boards.
Alex moved up the staircase. The aged wood that had creaked and groaned under the weight of countless feet today stayed completely silent below the soft touch of her sandals. If someone had seen her, they might have mistaken her for a pale, floating specter of some old, long-dead inhabitant of this house, haunting the night. The thought made her grin.
There really was no need for her to move soundlessly, but—old habits die hard. She liked to keep her abilities sharp, just like her knives. You never knew when they would save your life.
Alex was almost at the second floor landing when the voices of two people floated up as they passed under the staircase at the bottom of the hallway, echoing softly in the silence.
“…wouldn’t want to bother you with this again, Ed,” a woman said, sounding slightly strained.