“But why?” Darius asked. “That sounds like a lot of work for such a vile stupid creature.”
“They are often the underlings for more powerful forces. Usually they are thieves who use their magic to steal food or trinkets.” Zula fetched a large green wooden bowl from a shelf and began to sprinkle in bits of powder, aromatic herbs, and drops of fluid from colorful vials that glowed. “Even demons have rules to their bleak craftthe changeling uses an amulet to sustain the image and connection with the victim’s mind.” Zula grinned and asked, “Did Meg gift you with the dagger of your salvation? She loves her shiny weapons. If Meg loved magic as much as fighting, she would be the witch teacher instead of me.”
“But why is this happening?” Rose begged, looking at her ruined hands.
“Changeling blood is deadly to humans,” Zula replied. “That is the reason for the black spots. Did a physician look at her?”
“Yes,” Darius replied. “My father sent his personal physician.”
Rose gasped and bent over. “I’d chop off my damn hands right now if I didn’t need them for the lute.”
“She needs that remedy now,” Meg demanded.
“I know, I know. I’m working fast but need to take care. Don’t be afraid, Rose; I will not let you suffer. Almost ready!” The ingredients in the bowl bubbled into a misty airy cloud and Zula mixed in a chalky indigo powder that transformed the concoction into a frothy pale blue cream. Zula scooped a generous portion and rubbed it on Rose’s hands. The pain and itch vanished at once, the scarlet skin softened to pale pink and even the black marks started to fade.
“Thank the gods,” Rose sighed with relief.
“Thank Zula first,” Zula grinned.
“Thank you,” Meg said genuinely. “You’re a good friend.”
Zula wiped her hands with a towel and curiously looked at Rose. “We are not finished. I’m still bewildered on how you broke free from the changeling’s sleep hex. You tell me that you had a raven dream courtesy of the Fate Goddess, Karta, and woke up to face this changeling? Then you had a vision of the beast attacking someone. Are you magical, Rose?”
“No,” Rose shook her head stubbornly. “Why?”
“You must have magic,” Zula insisted.
“Could that be why the creature chose Rose?” Darius asked.
“Who knows? Changelings are not that smart, but they do not act alone in such an elaborate ruse. There are others involved in this nefarious scheme, I’m sure. If it happened in the palace, you have big troubles, Prince. The changeling demons are scavengers and parasites, with ambition only for feeding and trickery. But something more powerful is using them.”
“Is that all?” Meg gasped.
“No,” Zula replied. “The creature’s blood seeped into her skin. Those black blotches are a symptom of that. The effect can be fatal if not treated correctly. My balm will heal her skin but I must make a potion to flush out any remaining toxins from her body. Good that you brought her to me when you did. It could have spread throughout her whole body and even into her organs. Then not even my fine witchcraft could help the poor girl.”
Rose shuddered at those words, but the comforting hands of Meg on her shoulders calmed her. “Tell me, in its false human form, whether the changeling bleeds red blood or its foul grey blood? We are wondering if that is a good way to test people.”
“Their blood is grey,” Zula confirmed. “That is one thing they cannot change, whether they take animal or human form.”
“Culain will be glad to know our theory was correct,” Rose remarked.
Darius thought for a moment. “We fear it may already have victims hidden away.”
“It’s possible,” Zula confirmed, “a changeling could have some poor soul, even more than one, secreted in some gloomy grave as long as they have enough amulets and a safe hiding place, but not too many. Maybe two or three at most. They must also return to their prisoner to renew the bond with the amulet or its power could fade, so they need a safe place to hide their captives away from prying eyes.”
“I guess I’m lucky to have escaped that,” Rose murmured.
“You stabbed the demon. It will be vindictive,” Zula warned. “You should hide until it is safe for you.”
“An excellent plan,” Meg agreed.
“Will this link between the changeling and me fade soon?” Rose asked, frightened.
Zula looked into Rose’s eyes and then gently grasped her head with her hands. She smelled of cinnamon and sandalwood. “Poor Rose, you have magic inside you. The link between your mind and the changeling is not a side effect. Does anyone of your line have mystical blood?”
“No, no one. I’m just a bard,” Rose replied. “I’m not magical at all.”
“Your voice is magical,” Darius said softly.
Zula shook her head stubbornly. “You have a spark. When I touched your hands, I could sense it, faint and deep inside. But it is not witchcraft or sorcery. The rash is expected. The vision you experienced, is not. Are you having headaches?”
“Yes, a few, but I thought they were due to exhaustion.”
“Your magical ability may be breaking open, like an impatient flower. The headaches could be a warning. Certain mage castes, like those touched by the rhapsodé, can detect demons when they are close by. Mage castes with specific magics, like the rhapsodé or seers and even necromancers, have unique magics that do not evolve the same way as it does for witches or sorcerers. You are a good bard. True?”
“She’s magnificent,” Darius exclaimed proudly. “Belenus Aylecross himself tutored her.”
“Bard’s have a special quality. All the great ones do,” Zula insisted. “But a very rare talent may have the gift of the glamor.”
Rose recalled the last conversation she had with Belenus. He had asked her what she would do if she were touched by the glam rhapsodé. Did he suspect? “I’ve read about the legends. Their music can summon great magic. It has empowered armies, raised ocean waves, summoned animals. Those with the glam rhapsodé can truly enthrall. It can summon powerful magic through song and poetry, but is also dangerous. Some bards have suffered greatly because of the gift. There hasn’t been a bard gifted with this unique magic for well over a hundred years.”
“True. You are special, Rose, else you would just sit on a corner and beg a coin for a song,” Zula said softly. “You have more talent than you know. I sense magic within you and it is strong. Take care.”
Rose looked away feeling a little afraid. The tales of those touched by the glam rhapsodé was legendaryand a little frightening. The power of words that can slay or charm with their magic was the stuff of legends. “But some weeks ago something happened that was unusual. When I was kidnapped by two slavers, Albin and Fendrel, and I tried singing to them to prove I was a poor bard, thinking they might have mercy. They did not have mercy, but when I was singing to them, suddenly I felt my body go hot and for a moment they fell into a trancelike state. Then they snapped out of it and took me away.”
“You never told me about that?” Meg said, concerned.
Rose hung her head. “I was so scared at the time and tried to chalk it up to my fear and imagination. There are amazing tales about the bards with this gift, but many of them suffered bad fates. I haven’t even written Belenus about it.”
Zula spooned a large batch of the blessed ointment into a dark amber jar and sealed it with a cork. “You may have been blessed, but do not run from it, Rose. The fates of those you speak of may not have been good folk. Magic is tricky with those it blesses. It will be a curse only if you let it. Your bard master may or may not have detected it when training you. It is a rare mage skill and you’re so young. We must examine this later, when you’re fully healed. Do not discount it. Do not reject it. For now, keep this balm away from sunlight. The ingredients are fragile.” She handed the jar to Rose and then washed her hands in a copper bowl. “Keep my mixture in a cool dark place. Apply three times a day for three days. I will brew the potion for you,
but that will take me several hours.”
“Thank you,” Rose sighed, clutching the jar of her salvation.
“Be careful. All of you! Take her somewhere safe and watch over her, Meg.”
“I will, Zula,” Meg said with relief. “Thank you.”
“All witches are sisters, Meg. Remember that and visit me more often.”
“I promise,” Meg replied and the two women embraced briefly.
“I don’t think we should risk taking Rose back to the palace,” Darius suggested. “As long as that changeling is on the loose, it’s too dangerous.”
“I agree. Becky and Digby will put Rose up for a few days until this is over,” Meg suggested.
“I will escort you there myself,” Darius said. “I’ll go back to the palace and inform Culain of our findings, and that Rose is better now, but staying elsewhere. I’ll send a carriage for you, Zula to take you to them.”
“Thank you, Prince,” Zula nodded.
“Can you meet us at the Red Boar when you complete the potion?” Meg asked Zula.
“Of course!” Zula agreed. “Is Digby still cheap?”
Meg and Rose nodded simultaneously.
“He never changes,” Zula sighed. “Still, tell him my fee to deliver my potion to your doorstep is supper and a flagon of his best ale.”
“Really?” Meg challenged.
Zula shrugged. “What? I don’t feel like cooking.”
“Thank you, Zula,” Rose gushed with genuine gratitude, happy that her hands were at least looking and feeling whole again. “I would love to hear the stories of your father one day.”
“Of course I would love to regal you with the adventures my demon hunter papa. You are very welcome, little Rose. Now, I need practical compensation for my mystical healing.” Zula glanced expectantly at Darius.
“Of course,” Darius exclaimed and fumbled in his vest for his purse. “Forgive me.” He scooped out several gold lions and poured them into Zula’s open palm.
“Most generous, Prince Darius,” Zula smiled broadly, caressing the coins like a lover. “You are an honorable boy, even for an imperial.”
“The generosity is for helping Rose and further aid should we require it. May we call on you again for your wisdom?” Darius asked.
She dropped her coins into a ceramic jar. “I’m at your service, Your Highness.” She turned to Rose. “If you have the rhapsodé, you will have greater power than that silly creature. Use it. Do not fear it. You can charm too, using song and focus. Remember that. If another vision comes, do not fight it. Try to remember what you see.”
“Why?” Rose asked, knowing she would hate the answer.
“Because a changeling keeps its captives cocooned; your visions may be the only way to save them,” Zula warned. “Once a changeling is done with its mask, it destroys the mold it came from. They always feed on their victims when they are done using them. You may be their only salvation.”
Chapter Eighteen
Thera Sule forced herself out of bed, despite her aching head and queasy stomach. She stumbled to the window, rubbing her eyes. Pushing aside the heavy drapes, she squinted against the stark glare of daylight. The sun’s high position in the sky indicated it was at least noon! How could she have slept this late? For days her sleep habits had become more and more erratic; that disturbed her. It could not be indulgence, since she only sipped one glass of wine last night. Even from earliest childhood when she was an acolyte at Temple, it was always her habit to rise at dawn for meditation.
She slipped out of her silk nightgown and walked naked to the vanity. She pushed back her mass of black hair, twisted it into a bun and pinned it up without the aid of a mirror. She splashed her face and neck several times with cold water from the porcelain bowl, fragrant with rose petals that floated in the water.
Temple life instructed Thera about the necessity of discipline, focus, balance, and calm. Her duty was to serve; every day must be served with purpose else it was a waste of life. For days her control was slipping away. Her sleep was becoming more and more erratic. She often woke up with a headache, and she had never suffered headaches before. She pushed aside the breakfast tray of tea and fruit on the dining table, her appetite contaminated by confusion. Her thoughts focused first on her prime dutythe Princess! It was afternoon. Where was Lilias?
Thera rushed to the door that adjoined their chambers and flung it open. To her relief, Lilias was still curled up in the enormous feather bed beneath pink satin quilts. Her blonde hair masked her petite features as Her Highness snored. Her annoyance with Lilias’ lazy habits was mollified by the fact she was not out wandering like a fool. Thera’s tense muscles relaxed and she closed the door. Her pounding headache continued to sour her mood. She wrapped herself in a velvet robe, so as not to shock the servants with her nakedness, and rang the servant’s bell.
Two maids promptly entered the chamber and curtsied. “Yes, Lady Sule,” they both said.
“Prepare a hot bath and lay out my lavender gown, please. I have things I must attend to.” She looked at the two chamber maids quizzically. “Why did two of you come?”
“There is a great commotion in the palace, Lady Sule,” one of them answered excitedly. “No one is permitted to be alone right now. They will not tell us why.”
“Who commanded this?”
“Emperor Aristide did,” the other maid replied, wide-eyed. “Something happened in the palace last night, but no one is talking about it. I was only to deliver this message to you and the Princess this morning when you woke.”
“Very well. Thank you. We will of course obey the Emperor’s commands without question. Send for two escorts then, if being alone is an issue. I require their presence within the hour. While I am out, I want both of you to stay with the Princess. Do not let her out of your sight, no matter how much she whines and pouts.”
They both curtsied and departed.
Thera returned to Lilias’ chamber and ruthlessly shook her, “Wake up, lazy Princess. It’s past noontime.”
Lilias stubbornly rolled over and pulled the covers over her head. “Go away,” she moaned. “Can’t you see that I’m sleeping?”
“You have been abed too long. Get up! Now!”
“Leave me alone, Thera! I had too much wine at dinner last night,” she whined, kicking her little feet beneath the covers. “I feel sick to my stomach.”
“Good,” Thera replied coolly. “You drank too much last night, despite my warning. Consider it the price of your poor choice. A princess does not swill wine like a whore or act so foolish without consequences. The Prince was being attentive and you ignored him.”
“Prince Darius is so dull. At least the Empress approved of moving the wedding date closer. That should please my uncle.”
Thera nodded, relieved for the moment that her duty as virgin guardian was nearly over.
Lilias stretched out in her bed, slowing kicking off the covers. “Fortunately, I already have a wedding gown. When Prince Justin died, I never thought I would never get to wear it! Now I can. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“If you say so,” Thera answered carefully. “Though the Empress was receptive to your plea to wed sooner, it was still a graceless request given that your first betrothed died just a short time ago. To force the issue over tea and cakes was crude. Royal matches require specific etiquette and planning. You are fortunate Empress Isabeau is gracious. You put on a great show of devotion to Darius and then later at dinner you ignored him like a spurned suitor.”
“A princess can be changeable, you know. Are you saying I’m too bold?”
“I’m saying you should have conferred with me first.” Thera rubbed her temples again. Marriage was the foundation to achieve the alliance her king desired. Thera’s own fate was wrapped up in the success of this venture. Being a king’s mistress never guarantees safety. “The sooner you are wed, the better, but keep your remarks about the bridal gown to yourself.”
“Was it insensitive?” she asked.
>
Thera glanced at Lilias, frowning. Was she really that stupid? She wished Lilias was indeed married and someone else’s bane.
Lilias pouted, “Oh, don’t worry so, Thera. Darius didn’t see me drunk and I’m not sure he likes me that much anyway.”
“Then make him love you. A true noblewoman can achieve anything.”
“But I’m a princess! He should love me without question!”
Thera’s temper finally snapped. “Foolish girl! You’re spoiled and thoughtless. If you behaved according to your caste, perhaps Darius would love you.”
“How dare you, Thera! I am a royal! You are my servant! You’re just my uncle’s official whore”
Thera’s icy stare silenced Lilias. “No petulant girlI am High Priestess of the Elementals and First Mistress of King Krell of Uragon. No other woman in the kingdom is above me in rank. Not even you! Krell personally charged me to look after you and ensure your proper behavior. Instead of behaving like a princess, you shame your royal caste and guzzle wine like a trollop! You must change, Lilias. Others must work to rise above the station of their birth. Look at Rose Greenleaf! Rose wanted more from life and took it. Rose is beautiful, educated, and brave enough to venture far from the security of her home to pursue her dreams. She has made great strides in rising above her caste. Now she is the official Bardess to Prince Culain Ironheart! She has more of a regal bearing than you and yet Rose is born of a simple blacksmith.”
“Stupid ugly dwarf girl,” Lilias spat under her breath.
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