“I’ve already saved Princess Grace’s life. She’s safe.”
“It’s not her I’m worried about.” Ogress sighed.
“Who then?” I asked, but she fell silent.
With a furrowed brow, I tried to crane my neck and get a closer look. Frustrated that I was not allowed into the palace, I vowed that I would be performing tomorrow, no matter how injured I was. I would get stronger, heal fast, and get inside the hall. I wanted to see the southern elves, follow that princess. There were too many secrets, and I was so close.
Even as I watched with envy, I could feel my body start to quicken with adrenaline.
The dance was over, and the crowd parted as another group of acrobats came onto the floor. The show was just getting good when Ogress turned and headed back toward her tent.
“Wait, I’m not finished watching. There’s more I’d like to see—”
“You are done for tonight. You’re very draining,” she said.
“I’m sorry, I’ll stop talking. I—” I paused and felt how not tired I was, and knew the ogre was not referring to exasperation. “How did you know? I mean, I didn’t mean to.”
“You think I don’t know about your kind? I may be old, but I’m not foolish.” Ogress reached up and pulled me off her shoulder, very carefully putting me down on the ground.
“My kind? What do you know of my kind? What am I?”
“It’s not my place to tell you. The time is not right.” Ogress stopped outside of her tent and gestured for me to go inside. “This tent was made by Lorelai before she ever adopted any of you. Before you, dear Honor, were even born. It was warded with her magic to amplify the gifts of whoever is inside. She may not have foreseen the true purpose of creating this tent, or its future purpose when she imbued it with magic and wards all those years ago, but I’ve foreseen it. It was not made for me, or for Bravado’s fortune-teller. It was made for you.”
“Me?”
“Sleep, Honor, and you will understand.” The ogress pushed me inside her tent, and I tripped onto the giant velvet pillow inside—the one she sat on and told fortunes.
I sunk into the softness, and as soon as I did, I felt my body tingle as I began to absorb the magic that was spelled within the canvas walls. It was the same as touching a ley line.
As I lay there, a warmth touched my hip, and I knew that my body was healing. I could feel the aching leave. It was the same as when I passed through the veil of the elven realms. Tears filled my eyes as I stared up at the top of the tent. But this time, it was for a different reason. It wasn’t because of how the magic made me feel, but for what was hand-stitched onto the canvas tent roof. Lorelai was preparing for me; protecting me before I was ever born. The stitching faded with age, and a few threads had broken and were dangling from the top. But there was no mistaking my mother’s handiwork, or her familiar script.
Another tear slipped down my face as I read aloud the two words stitched in canvas.
ABOVE ALL, DO IT FOR HONOR
Whether it was her mantra to bring honor to the kingdoms and right wrongs, or if it was for me. I didn’t know.
I slept like the dead, and when I awoke the next morning, it was to see that the stitches had already healed themselves. The bruises had faded to a yellow as if they’d been healing for weeks.
When I stood up, my body was vibrating with pent-up energy, and I knew I may need to run a few miles to burn it off.
The tent flap opened, and a morning breeze tickled my skin before the flap closed. I knew it wasn’t the wind.
“Nimm?”
The terrified gnome appeared in the middle of the tent, waving his hands and pointing outside.
As I stepped out, it was to the array of frantic troupe members. I saw the ogress come out of my old tent and I asked her, “What’s wrong?”
The palace guard was speaking with Bravado and Amaryllis. At least it looked like neither of them were being arrested, just informed. When they were done, they came to me.
“It seems Lord Rasmen is missing,” Bravado said, carefully hiding his worry by clasping his hands in front of him.
“Missing as in kidnapped, or missing as in he went for a walk and didn’t return?” I asked.
“No one knows,” Bravado said. “It seems that Lord Rasmen and all of his servants have disappeared into thin air, leaving all of his trunks and belongings behind.”
“I find that hard to believe,” I said loudly. “That man was too full of himself to leave a stitch of clothing behind.”
“Hush, Honor,” Bravado warned, his voice dropping low as more guards went past us into the palace. “It’s best to keep a low profile. Head down, don’t ask too many questions. Remember, we are the help, and those in authority will talk freely around us because they believe we can’t think for ourselves. But I agree, I don’t think they just disappeared on their own.”
As he spoke, the flame from the nearest campfire turned blue and flickered as it grew in height and temperature. A spark of paper shot out of the flames and floated right to Bravado. He snatched it out of the air.
Bravado held out a scrap of paper with burned edges. Even as he held it, the parchment crumbled away to ash. I recognized it as one of my mother’s spells. As she scried the kingdoms watching through her magic mirror, she would often send messages to Lorn through the fire. It was an enchantment that could send a few words, a message, or a phrase. She’d toss it into the flames and it would burn up. Then it would fly out of the fire nearest the one to whom it was addressed before quickly crumbling into ashes once the message was read.
In the past, it had always been directions toward trouble within the towns, or a warning of rogue beasts that were causing problems, so I knew it would be similar.
“There was another attack by the son of Allemar.” His voice was grave.
“When? Where?” I asked.
“Last night. There was an assault on the peaceful centaur herd near Vailhaim. Just like before, the attack came out of nowhere and disappeared just as fast.”
Immediately, my mind was filled with visions of the hellhounds in the Northern Woods. “What kind of creatures attacked?” I asked.
“Brackenbeasts.”
“Brackenbeasts,” I breathed out. They were the legendary creatures of Sion, with the head of a lion, horns of a bull, and the strength of a bear—one of the things that formed from the tainted ley line of the sacred hollow of Thornhaven. If it wasn’t for the southern elves, there wouldn’t be an issue. “Werewolves, hellhounds, brackenbeasts, omnis.” I ticked off the creatures that had been sighted at the attacks. “None of these species would ever work together on their own. Not unless they were controlled by someone.”
Bravado nodded. “I agree. It really does seem to be the work of the son of Allemar.”
Humperstink and Sorek had made their way over to us, the former walking with a limp.
“And all of these creatures originated because of the deviated ley line of magic in Sion. I have to think that the disappearances, the arrival of the southern elves, the attacks, the entrance to the sacred hollow, and the son of Allemar are all connected,” I said.
The clatter of armor made my heart jump as another retinue of soldiers marched past us heading toward the palace.