by Becky Biggs
The flames morphed into the king wrestling with the troll. The queen was cowering in the corner with her arms tightly wrapped around Princess Raina. Elyria’s entrance startled everyone in the room, so much so that the king and the troll crashed to the floor.
“Harry! What on earth are you doing?” Elyria demanded as she held up her wand and gestured toward the king. “King Spruce, quick, get behind me.”
“Ah don’ think—” started the troll, but the king interrupted him.
“Oh, Elyria! Thank goodness you are here! Harry has been threatening us and our kingdom.”
Elyria regarded the troll sternly as she held her wand at him. The king, meanwhile, made his way across the room and cowered behind the Wise Woman.
“Harry, what sort of mischief are you up to now?” Elyria asked disappointedly. “I thought you learned your lesson the first time you messed with dark magic.”
“Ah did,” Harry responded, glaring at the king. “But he convinced me tuh help him. He said he just wanted tuh help his daughter. Instead he wants tha power fer himself!”
“What?” Elyria spun to face the king, shocked. He held up the enchanted green stone, which began to glow. Suddenly she looked weak.
“Harry, what have you done? What did you create?” Elyria gasped, falling to the floor.
“It was just meant tuh help tha princess have some magic,” responded the troll, miserably. “Ah never thought her daddy would steal it fer himself.”
“Your highness, King Spruce, this isn’t you!” Elyria pleaded. She turned to the queen and her daughter. “Queen Ivy, surely you can do something!”
The queen shook her head. She seemed to be entranced by the light of the stone.
“We will rule all,” Queen Ivy said mechanically as she smoothed the sandy-blonde hair on her daughter’s head.
The king held the stone higher and the light grew stronger.
“She has power. Power we want. Power we need,” the king chanted, pointing the stone at Elyria. The light emitting from it was dazzling and Elyria started to walk toward it, drawn by some unseen power.
Suddenly, Harry pushed Elyria out of the way. She rolled and landed with a thud against a wooden desk. It was topped with glass vials that wobbled precariously at her impact. Thankfully they all stayed upright, saving Elyria from a shower of glass.
The troll tackled the king. They rolled and tumbled with lots of grunts and groans. Then Harry seemed to gain the upper hand and he rolled on top of the king, pinning him down.
“Drop tha stone now,” grunted Harry, straining with the effort of trying to hold down the wriggling king beneath him.
“Never!” cried the king as he suddenly wrenched the arm holding the stone free. With his other hand, he grabbed a silver pot that had fallen to the floor during the fight and brought it down on Harry’s head with a sickening crack. The troll slumped down on the king who somehow still managed to wriggle free from Harry’s thick, hairy body.
Elyria pushed herself to her feet, but the king was already looming toward her. The stone began to glow even more powerfully as the king raised his voice and roared, “We don’t just want her power. We want her life!”
Elyria drew her wand and tried to cast a spell of protection, but it was no use.
“I could feel my powers draining from my body,” Elyria said from the table back in the cottage. “Everything was growing dark. I knew I was done for.”
“What happened next?” breathed Porter. Now over the shock of a fireplace theatre, he was clearly enraptured by the story.
“It was strange. As suddenly as I felt my power leaving me, I also felt it returning,” Elyria said. “When my eyesight was restored, I saw Harry grasping King Spruce and swinging him around. The stone flew out of the king’s hand and sailed across the room. It seemed to move in slow motion. Then”—Elyria paused, seeing the scene replay in front of her eyes even though she wasn’t looking at the fire—“then it hit Queen Ivy in the head. I saw her slump to the ground. I knew it was over.”
Emerald, Porter, and Maple stared at Elyria in silent horror. They all jumped this time as a voice screamed from the fireplace.
“Mama. MAMA!”
In the flames, little Raina had crawled out of her mother’s arms and was pulling on the queen’s dress urgently. She was sobbing, not understanding why her mama wasn’t answering her.
“Ivy, my darling, my love, are you all right?” the king shouted fearfully. Harry, keeping a strong grip on the king, nodded to Elyria to check on the queen. She walked over and knelt next to Queen Ivy, gently touching her neck and hands.
“She was gone,” Elyria said, sadly.
The queen might not have been innocent, but Emerald was sorrowful that she had been killed. She could feel her heart breaking for the little princess. Her mourning was interrupted by an utterly animal sound from the chimera king as he sank to his knees. The little princess looked from her father to mother in confusion and then ran, bawling, to her father for comfort.
“The king was defeated,” Elyria recounted. “I took away his wand and used the stone to revoke his powers. It felt strange to pull the magic from another being. Almost seductive. I had to get it out of my hands as quickly as possible. I shoved it in a big wooden box, locked the box, and handed it to Harry. Then I ordered him to guard it with his life as punishment for creating such an abomination.”
“What did you do with the king?” Emerald breathed.
“I took King Spruce and the poor princess to live in a distant region of Ortland.” Elyria’s voice was filled with pain. “I didn’t want to punish Raina, but I thought it would be worse for her to live without her father. As much soul as he lost stealing magic from others, I knew the spirits of Ortland would leave him alone. And I knew he wouldn’t let them touch his daughter. I couldn’t risk letting him live near civilization—magic or human.”
Emerald stared at her godmother in amazement as the woman finished the story. Porter looked equally as incredulous.
“Your godmother saved us all,” Maple said as she turned adoring eyes on the old woman, who smiled back at her kindly.
“But if you took the king’s powers and banished him, how did he come back?” Emerald asked, suddenly confused about the recent change of events in Eseland.
Elyria sighed. “I thought—hoped—King Spruce had learned his lesson and would live out his life in peace. Apparently, however, he got a taste for power. And he just couldn’t get that taste out of his mouth.” She stood and began clearing up the dishes. Having seen how she used her wand before, Emerald wondered if Elyria’s actions were more to keep her hands busy than really needing to do work.
“I believe Harry might be involved again,” Elyria admitted as she poured hot water into a shallow tub on her counter and began washing dishes. “I haven’t heard from him in months. Somehow King Spruce must have tricked Harry into giving him back the stone. Rumor has it, Spruce turned his replacement king and queen into stone and is trying to force their son to marry Raina.”
“Could I help you with those?” Emerald pointed at the dishes. She’d never washed anything other than her face, but she was willing to give it a try. Elyria shook her head and smiled kindly.
“I appreciate it, child,” she said. “I like working with my hands, though. It reminds me to be grateful for the life I have and the little magic I have left.” She dried her hands after rinsing the last cup and turned back to Emerald.
“If you are willing to face the king, it won’t be easy.” Elyria looked intently at her goddaughter. “Many magical creatures have tried to face him, but all have been destroyed. It is rumored that only a hero of pure intent—one who isn’t driven by the desire for power—can stop him.”
Emerald stared back as a feeling of uneasiness crept down her back like the prick of a dozen little icicles. “I want to help, but I don’t really think I’m a hero. I’m definitely not Queen Ellyn,” she admitted.
Porter and Maple, who had been silently observing the co
nversation, both looked as though they wanted to speak, but Emerald raised her hand to stop them. She knew how her friends felt. She wanted to hear what her godmother would say.
Emerald’s godmother smiled at her. “My dear, this is what you were born for. I see a lot more of Queen Ellyn in you than you realize. She, too, didn’t think she had what it took to be a hero.”
“Maybe,” Emerald said doubtfully. “But, I mean, you’ll go with me, right? With your magic powers and my, well, ‘pure intent,’ we can defeat him together!”
Elyria shook her head sadly. “I would if I could, but I never fully recovered from the first time he tried to drain my powers. I’m afraid if I go up against King Spruce again, I won’t have the strength to battle him.” She walked over to Emerald, put her hands on the princess’s shoulders, and looked deep into her green eyes. “No, you must face him alone. You have what it takes to defeat him. No one must ever have such power again.”
“You can do it, Emerald,” Maple agreed, coming around the table to hug her friend. “I know you can!”
Emerald was more than a little doubtful. But she had a lot of people counting on her. More than that, if she succeeded she might be able to show her parents that she was meant to be more than just wife to a prince.
“I suppose I could try,” she said dubiously.
“No, Emerald, this is crazy.” Porter jumped to his feet. “We should go back and get help from your parents.”
Emerald regarded Porter. He had a good point, but if she went back nothing would change. This might be her last chance to prove herself.
“No,” she said firmly. “I’m going.”
Chapter Fifteen
THE GIFTS
Emerald stretched luxuriously in the trundle bed in her godmother’s house. It wasn’t anything fancy, but after spending the past few nights on piles of leaves and in a cave, the trundle bed felt heavenly. She turned her head and saw her godmother was already up and was cutting thick slices from a fresh loaf of bread for their breakfast. Next to her, Maple stirred, snuggling a bit deeper into the pile of patchwork quilts that covered them, as if unwilling to give up the warmth and coziness yet.
“Good morning, Maple,” Emerald murmured.
“Morning,” Maple mumbled back, squeezing her eyes tight against the light beginning to seep through the cracks in the shutters.
Hearing the girls stirring, Emerald’s godmother turned to them and said, “Oh good, you two are up. Come get your breakfast while it’s hot and ready!”
She’s awfully cheerful for someone about to send her goddaughter into imminent danger, thought Emerald grumpily.
As if reading her mind again, her godmother added, “You’re going to need your strength for what lies ahead of you. But I have faith that you will succeed.”
The front door of the cottage swung open and Porter entered carrying a load of firewood. Elyria nodded at him and pointed to the corner next to the fireplace.
“Please put that over there,” she said. “Thank you. Breakfast is ready.”
Porter dropped the load of firewood where Elyria had directed him. He was pale and sweating. Emerald looked at him with concern, but he shot her a teasing smile and said, “Planning to sleep all day?”
“No, I’m getting up.” Emerald flushed as she spoke. “Turn around, please. I need to get dressed.”
Porter obeyed and Emerald rolled out of bed. Her leather trousers and white shirt were resting on a chair next to the trundle. They were both now clean, thanks to her godmother. She pulled them on and put her leather pouch back around her neck as Maple also rolled out of bed and dressed.
“Okay, we’re decent,” Emerald said, and she and Maple joined her godmother and Porter at the table for a feast of savory sausages, perfectly fried eggs, and hot bread.
“Now,” her godmother started after they’d all helped themselves to heaping plates of the food. “Your guiding stone will help you find the kingdom of Eseland, but first you must cross the marshes of Ortland. Be careful there. The marshes are boggy and unforgiving and full of the souls of the human and magical creatures who got lost there.”
Porter and Emerald exchanged nervous glances while Maple shivered and went pale.
“You’ve crossed Ortland a couple of times, haven’t you?” Emerald asked Maple. Maple nodded.
“Yes, it’s horrible.” Maple shuddered. “But I think I can guide you through it.”
“Thank you, Maple,” Elyria said in a voice full of pride and appreciation. She smiled at the imp reassuringly and then continued. “When you get to Eseland, you’ll find King Spruce and Raina in a small cottage just outside the castle grounds. He is about appearance as much as he is about power. He wants it to look like he is marrying back into the kingdom. Doesn’t fool anyone, of course, but it might be a weakness you can use to your advantage. Still, you must be careful of him. He is sly and cunning and can be absolutely charming when he wants to. Destroy his source of power and you destroy him.”
“And how do I do that, exactly?” Emerald asked, swallowing a mouthful of sausage. “Destroy him, that is. I don’t have weapons. Even if I did, I don’t think they’d be any good against an evil, magical king.”
Porter took this as an opportunity to add his own objections. “She’s right, you know,” he said. “Emerald’s just a child, she shouldn’t—”
“I’m not just a child,” Emerald said, her voice suddenly full of resolve. “I can do it. I just need some suggestions how.”
Her godmother cocked an eyebrow and then suddenly shot up, one finger pointing straight in the air as if she just remembered something. “I have a couple of gifts for you,” she said, making her way over to an ornately carved wooden trunk under one of the front windows. She pushed open the lid and began rummaging through what appeared to be piles of clothes and blankets. Finally, she emerged with an oblong bundle swaddled in an old but clean blanket. She undid the wrapping to reveal a bow with a golden grip and a leather quiver full of golden arrows. Everyone stared at the beautiful instrument.
“This belonged to Queen Ellyn,” said Elyria. Emerald’s green eyes grew even wider. Suddenly, she was full of questions, but she didn’t know which one she wanted to ask first.
“So you knew her? This was really her bow and arrow? And, forgive me, but . . . how old are you anyway?”
Elyria laughed. “Yes, I knew her well. She was a dear friend of mine and made me the godmother of her first child—your grandmother. I’ve been godmother to the princesses in your family for three generations now.” She chuckled and added, “As far as my age, well let’s see . . . I’ll be 125? No, 126 next month.”
She handed Emerald the bow and arrows and Emerald reverently turned them around in her hands, admiring the fine workmanship. Tiny flowers etched into the golden grip cascaded from the top to the bottom like petals falling from a cherry blossom tree. The arrows were slender but very strong and had fine feathers at the tail end. The nocks were plated in the same shimmering gold.
“It’s beautiful,” she gasped.
Maple and Porter crowded around Emerald, murmuring their admiration and running their fingers along the bow.
“Quite,” Elyria agreed. “Queen Ellyn would be so proud to see you with her prized bow and arrows. Of all her talents, archery was her best—and favorite—skill.”
“Just like you,” whispered Maple. Emerald felt a shiver run up her spine. Maybe her godmother was right—she was who she was meant to be.
“Just one more thing, my dear.” Elyria turned to the mantel and began rummaging through a smaller version of the wooden chest. “Ah yes, here it is.” She returned to the table and slipped a small silver ring adorned with a pink stone on the fourth finger of Emerald’s right hand.
“Keep this safe with you,” Elyria said. “If you are ever in trouble, rub your fingers over the stone and ask for help. It will provide you with what you need.” She hugged Emerald tightly and added, “I wish there was more I could do for you, but alas, this is a journey
you have to complete on your own.”
“As for you two,” Elyria said, turning to Porter and Maple. “Emerald is going to need all of the support you can give. Watch over her. Help her when you can. But know there are difficulties ahead that she will have to face on her own.”
They nodded solemnly.
“Porter, take this flask. Even if you can’t find a stream, it will always be full enough to quench your thirst,” Elyria instructed, handing a metal flagon wrapped in leather and hanging by a leather strap to the young man.
“Yes, ma’am,” Porter looked at the flask in awe as he took it. He uncorked the lid and took a sip. “It’s cold!”
Elyria chuckled and turned to Maple. “For you, Maple, I have a whistle. Blow it, and no matter where I am, I will know you need me.” Elyria gave her a small silver whistle on a yellow cord.
“Thank you,” Maple responded, humbly accepting the gift. “You don’t also have a sack of never-ending food, do you? ’Cause we got awfully hungry on the way here.”
“That I do not have,” Elyria said, smiling fondly at the imp. “But I’ll send you with enough provisions for a few days. When you get to Eseland, you should be able to get help from a small contingent of creatures who haven’t been enchanted by the king. They’ll do their best to make sure you are prepared for the remainder of your journey.”
After that, things moved very quickly. Emerald, Porter, and Maple finished their breakfasts while Elyria filled a sack with some apples, bread, cheese, meat, and a couple of blankets. Before she knew it, Emerald was saying goodbye to her godmother.
“Believe in yourself and you will succeed,” Emerald’s godmother assured her as they embraced one more time. “I know you can do this.”
“Me too,” piped up Maple as she grabbed her friend’s hand. Together, the three friends walked back into the woods to face Emerald’s fate. As they walked, Emerald shot several glances back to her godmother’s cottage. A sinking feeling at the bottom of her stomach warned her that she was beyond the point of no return. Life was going to change for her forever. She only hoped she had the strength to face it.