Page 4

Chapter four

Racerbristles

T he nightmares woke me before dawn. Again, I was a child, looking up through a dark tunnel at the screaming seagulls. Shuddering, I tried to brush off the memory and replace it with one of my mother’s touch. I wondered these days how much of her was memory and how much was a fantasy I had created.

I counted it lucky to wake up so early. I could leave to find a new racerbristle bush and return in time for the cursed bonding ball. I meandered to my door and picked up the note tucked under it: the seer’s daily predictions. Today, the storms would be moderate and possibly light. The sun would be bright. Shoes should be put on the left, then right, to receive full blessings. The washers should moisten their skin with oil, and the inferni should meditate this afternoon for twenty minutes to restore their full flames. Blessings upon the bonding couple. Noted. I threw the missive away.

Dressing quickly, I snatched a clean woven basket and eyed my wool cloak before grabbing that too. It was a hot day, but maybe the cloak would protect my finds from whatever magical maelstroms fell today. I hoped to be out of the storms’ reach as I journeyed farther south.

Peeking through my doorframe, I saw that no noble yet stirred. Only cindermaids were whisking about in the halls with me. Distant granddaughters of lesser nobles, they used their smidgen of infernus magic to light the fireplaces of the acknowledged, magical, and useful nobles. They were well-dressed servants, but nothing more. Our relationship was strained as I had less magic but more access to the events and tables of the nobility. I tried not to let their harsh gazes cut me as I slipped past them in the servants’ passage.

Beyond the covered gardens, I crept through the village, turning around the winding stone streets until I was in the rolling hills between Nuren and the flat coastlands. The castle stood in the palm of the easternmost peak, the fingers of a bald rocky peak rising behind it. The city was framed by massive walls that hugged the houses to the castle. But hundreds of villagers made their homes outside the city limits. The middle mountain was shorter but boasted a regal white temple—home of the seers—with an arduous and holy narrow road to the top. To the west, the far mountain peak cut off into a cliff, with flattened mesa, slashed deep valleys that cut through red rocks. Somewhere on that mountain, past the pines, deep in the canyons, the Shade boiled and brewed his chaos to suffocate the light and destroy our kingdom. He was monstrous and evil, and everything the prince wasn’t. Light from the tower filled the whole region, wavering recently but always a beacon of hope for all the people.

We had lived here since I was seven. The king had first summoned Father to act as an herbalist in the land and then given him a long-term contract to cure the sickly queen. Father, a tinkerer and herbal enthusiast, had been renowned in our last village for his unique and powerful creations. When Mother had died earlier that winter, he readily agreed to a change of scenery. He was too broken to stay where every building and person reminded him of his bondmate.

What fools would bind themselves and allow themselves to be broken into unsalvageable pieces later? The Mastersons, apparently. The bonding ball was as much a wedding ceremony, as it was a ritual magical binding of souls. Two independent people smooshed together into one clump of misery. I would never choose to take that risk. I saw how it had broken Father. I would never break like him.

I tapped on my sunny necklace beneath my dress. Mother had bought this for my seventh birthday—the year my magic should have shown up. But she died before giving it to me. Father gave it in her stead, but it always seemed too painful for him to look upon. It had glowed since the moment I put it on, but every year, it seemed to dim more and more. Perhaps the magic charm was waning. Fitting, really, for a magicless woman to have a magicless necklace.

It was rare that noble bloodlines resulted in complete duds, thus, my confusing state of noble daughter/servant/almost-herbal apprentice/over-educated errand-running girl. When the mask was on, I was a noble lady at the king’s table. When it was off, I was scrubbing potatoes in the kitchen with the washer girls. Anything to make up for my deficiencies.

I felt the heat from a burst of flame at my back, roaring back at a burst of shadowy clouds, and swallowed down my envy of Leon’s magic. He was the strongest infernus. Wind, water, fire, earth: all were valued gifts of the kingdom. The most magical led us—as they should—and the weakest supported them in whatever ways they could.

And then there was me. The weakest of all. Which is why I struggled to be useful and helpful. To not dishonor Father further, nor Leon or King Harold.

As long as I could please them, I could be happy where I was planted, no matter what the others said. Maybe I could learn enough to research beside Father, find a cure for the queen, and establish myself as worthwhile and worth keeping around. Or maybe Chef would recognize skill and recommend me as a head housekeeper of a noble family.

Helpful. Endlessly helpful. Able Aelia. I shoved a smile on my face. I would choose to be happy. Father loved me. Leon was my friend. I could use my hands. I could use my mind. It would be fine. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. I would be fine.

I turned my head toward a sudden squawk as a bird startled at my arrival. I was far away from the castle now, and a cool wind from the coast made me pull my cloak tight. I needed to focus—it was time to help the queen.

The journey was longer than I would have liked before I turned off the main wide road and headed over a creek and up a rise to the inner curve of the eastern mountain. The ground was not cracked here, and fresh green shoots burst through the soil. The light from the castle was like a mirror reflection in the sunlight, but it was barely visible. The trees became denser, and the soil a bit more rocky.

I searched in the shadowed coves of the hills until I found a most glorious sight: a tight bush with bright yellow flowers that glimmered in the morning light. It had six petals with orange stamen and smelled like vanilla—a racerbristle bush.

I snapped off most of the flowers and collected the lot, trimming a small portion of the root like Father had taught me, along with a single stem of the leaves and bark. The whole plant was useful and could be toxic like any medicine if mismeasured into the potion. I skipped to the creek to rinse the sticky resin from my fingertips and bounced down the path again. The day had undoubtedly improved. I could now easily find the rest of the herbs we needed. I marked the location with the bald peak and the creek that flowed from the castle so I could return next week for more of the bush without stressing it.

The sun beat against my neck, reminding me of each minute I’d been out here—much longer than I intended. I tugged the cloak from my neck; it was a terrible idea to wear it in this heat, and now it was in the way. I’d found white thieves behind the oaks and was in the midst of digging up the bulbs when a deer bounded past me. Crashing through the brush, it landed with a clatter. The antlers nearly caught on the nearby branches before it sprinted past and disappeared. Then the baying began. Three dogs and five horsemen wove between the trees toward me. Each of the riders held a bow with an arrow strung.

I threw up my hands and fell back against the tree as one cocked arrow turned my way.

“Where did it go?” the man demanded. My shaky hand pointed, though why they asked instead of following the echo of their dogs was beyond me. Four horses took off down the animal path. My basket lay overturned at my feet. Wincing, I lifted it and heaved out a breath of relief. The plants were undamaged if a bit dusty.

I placed them back into the basket, but when I returned to my trowel, the last rider strode up beside me.

“Aelia?”

I froze. I would know that voice anywhere. I brushed off my dirty hands on my woolen cloak, pulled it over my cotton garb, and ducked into a curtsy. “Your Highness.”

“We’re alone.” Leon smiled, his dimple in view.

“Leon.” I corrected myself, but still tucked into the curtsy for one more moment.

His riding outfit was cream with red and orange piping, and his horse was as white as his clothing. His blond hair contrasted with the coal of his eyes, and he was all the things that made up masculine beauty. The sharp cut of his chin and dimpled cheek had charmed the whole land, me included, at one point. His expression slowly shifted to confusion. His weighted gaze drifted slowly from my worn boots to my knees, undoubtedly stained from kneeling, to my unkempt hair that had unraveled from the day’s work. If I was unlucky, which I often was, I likely had dirt on my face too. So pretty.

“What are you doing in my hunt, dressed as you are?” His face glinted with mirth.

“I apologize, Leon. I was gathering herbs for your mother. I didn’t realize you and your men were hunting here today. It’s my mistake.”

He turned behind him, looking at the castle tower in the distance, chuckling. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Yes. The conditions were not quite right by the castle. So I needed to journey farther.”

“On your own?”

“Always, Leon.”

“You could always ask me to come with you. Aren’t you afraid?”

I glanced up at him at his question. “No. You keep the kingdom safe. The animals pay me no mind, and the bears run from my singing.”

“That bad of a singer, huh?” He grinned, the pearly whites of his teeth radiant against his deeply tanned skin.

“Perhaps. I like to think they just want to be left alone like most of us.” I smiled back warmly, wondering if he would linger or return to the hunt. “I mean, not that I want to be away from you. After all.” I stopped my sputtering.

He was gorgeous, but as usual, my nerves twittered in my gut. As a woman of the court, especially since we’d caused mischief around the castle together as twelve-year-olds, it would be a lie to say I’d never wondered if I could catch his eye, make him love me, and become queen. Magic or no magic, true love could overcome the obstacles between us. He could undo the law stating that the magicless could not lead. And he was handsome, so very handsome. The thought made me smile more genuinely. If only my future subjects could see their filthy future queen now.

The tone of the dogs changed as if they had turned back toward us. A whistle pierced the forest, quieting the hounds and bringing my attention back to the present. The prince straightened. He reached for my basket. “It is quite the journey back up. Unfortunately, I cannot take you with me, but may I assist with your load? I could return it faster to the healer.”

“Oh, well, yes.” I ducked and gathered five more of the exposed white thieves’ bulbs before handing the lot to the prince. “Thank you, Leon, but you don’t have to help.”

“It’s my pleasure to help a lady, especially one so lovely as yourself. The seers told me it would be a bright day today. Your hair nearly glitters from the sunlight through the trees.”

And if I wasn’t sunburned already, my cheeks were undoubtedly red. “Th-thank you, Leon.” I dipped into a curtsy as the other men returned, their horses clomping and circling the prince with narrowed and suspicious gazes thrown at me. Now that I was not in front of an arrow, I recognized some of the party with some of the noble lords, the village leaders on the plains, and Lord Masterson. I kept my head low, aching to disappear back up to the castle, as I watched Leon return to his stiff role of the prince. The haughty tilt of the nobles’ noses seemed exaggerated from where I stood. I smiled and turned to escape their attention.

Before me, my friend Leon shifted by icy degrees into Prince Leon, His Royal Highness. “My good sirs, you remember Lady Aelia.”

I froze as the group stared. A few sucked in sharp breaths. They hadn’t recognized me until then. I closed my eyes to gather myself before applying my trademark smile. Then I turned back to them. Each met my gaze, yet no one smiled except the prince. “My lords.” I curtsied again and gestured desperately to the great wilderness. “Don’t let me keep you from your next great hunt!” My pitchy laughter was painful even to my ears. “Good luck out there.” I dipped. “Your Highness.”

But the men were no longer looking at me. They all stared at the ground, suddenly amused. My foot grew uncomfortably hot, and an unpleasant odor filled the air. I looked down to see one of the dogs actively peeing on my boot.

Chuckles murmured through the group as I squealed, backpedaled, and slipped in the loose dirt, falling on my backside. The dog, having already finished, kicked some dirt behind him. At me. My shoe and the edge of my gown dripped the vile liquid. And a few of the lords were laughing.

The prince whistled, and the dog ran off. His expression was conflicted, his gaze flicking between the lords, but as he looked toward me, he attempted a soft grin. “It seems that he likes you.”

My smile was more challenging to pin in place this time. I rose and brushed myself off. “If His Highness says so. I must be heading home. Thank you again, my lords, Le—Your Highness.” I curtsied. “Goodbye.” My hand covered my forehead, the heat of my skin no longer only from the sun, as I bustled off the hillside and dashed behind the thick cotton brush.

Out of sight, I dropped my head into both hands, willing the jeering of the lords to fade even a little from memory. My toes squelched within my boot. Boots whose leather I hadn’t recently polished, apparently, or sealed from water or…other liquids. My rear was sore from the hard landing. The right side of my skirt, now wet, hung heavily. And the odor worsened as it baked in the noontime sun. Despair knocked at my heart, but I shoved it away .

I had to focus on what had gone well. I had found what I needed, the prince would bring the basket up for me, and my father would be pleased. The queen could feel better. And I could restore my reputation with the lords by degrees somehow. Tonight was the blasted ball, after all. I could earn their admiration with my grace, presence, and ethereal beauty. If anyone deigned to dance with me, I could impress them with my confident steps. Nothing, not even the awkwardness of that meeting, could deflate me. We finally had what we needed for Queen Gemaline’s potion.