“Has she ever had apprentices?”
“Yes, many of them.”
“Where are they now?”
“The Lands of Men,” Desaunius said.
Kaliel twisted in her hands in her lap, unsure what to think. She was curious about the affairs in the Lands of Men, but not curious enough to leave Avristar. “Do they ever return?”
“Sometimes.”
Kaliel stared at the roof of the carriage. Orlondir was so vibrant during the festival season; it seemed so cold in between. The Beltane Festival had just ended, and so it would be many moons before Samhain. A pang of nerves hit her as she realized if she was patient, she might see Krishani again. She peered out the front of the caravan. The horse’s tails swished back and forth as they pulled towards the bridge and the moat. She caught them out of the corner of her eye and her senses perked up, the sadness draining away.
“Is that—?” she asked, pointing at the stone walls around the castle.
“Aye, we have arrived,” Desaunius said.
The horses pulled through the wide, heavy gates and trotted into the courtyard. Desaunius yanked on the reins and pulled them to a stop.
Kaliel paused in the back of the carriage, and waited for Desaunius to come around back and assist her. The girl who showed herself a moment later wasn’t Desaunius. She had long brown hair and eyes, pointed ears and a bland linen gown.
“Greetings,” the girl said with bright eyes.
“Greetings,” Kaliel said.
The girl held out her hand and Kaliel hopped off the back of the carriage, landing on the cobble-stone walkway. She winced at the hard stone against her slippers, but shook away the discomfort. She went to get her bag, but the girl already had it on the ground. Kaliel quickened her pace and reached for the little box with the birthstone. It was the only memory of home she had.
Desaunius rounded the carriage and pulled Kaliel into her embrace. “Be well, child,” she whispered into her hair.
Kaliel was unsure how she would feel when the moment came, but now that it was here she was sad. “I want to go home.”
Desaunius laughed. “Be strong,” she said, then whispered, “And wild.”
Kaliel pulled her into an embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered. She glanced at the servant girl for a moment, hoping she would say something, but she stayed silent.
“Give Atara my regards,” Desaunius said.
The servant bowed her head and struggled to sling the bag over her shoulder. “This way, Kaliel.”
Kaliel followed her, but turned, watching Desaunius pull the carriage out of the courtyard and over the bridge. She felt a hand on her shoulder.
“It gets easier,” the servant girl said.
* * *
10-The Witches
The servant girl, who had introduced herself as Melianna, returned hours later when Kaliel had settled into her quarters. It was a tower room in the west wing, circular, a green embroidered rug stretching to the edges of the room, leaving a thin strip of stone bare. To the left was a chest that opened to reveal various compartments. Kaliel put the birthstone in one of the hidden drawers for safekeeping. The rest of the room was typical: a bureau sat to the right side, the wide bed in the center, the nightstand beside it. There was nothing else but a cloak stand.
“Lady Atara is ready to see you,” Melianna said with a knock at the door. She never crossed the threshold, patiently waiting in the hallway.
Kaliel emerged, her hair tied up in a ribbon for a change, her ivory dress traded for the green flowing one she had worn the day after she saw the Great Oak.
“You look pretty,” she said as she led Kaliel to the lower west wing. Even when Kaliel lived in Evennses she knew the joined quarters of the Lord and Lady were across from the balcony that hung over the Grand Hall. When they reached the door Kaliel noticed a shimmer-like glow to it that made her nervous. “Lady Atara is very kind. You shouldn’t be afraid,” Melianna said. She knocked on the door and waited while it swung inwards.
“Yes, many of them.”
“Where are they now?”
“The Lands of Men,” Desaunius said.
Kaliel twisted in her hands in her lap, unsure what to think. She was curious about the affairs in the Lands of Men, but not curious enough to leave Avristar. “Do they ever return?”
“Sometimes.”
Kaliel stared at the roof of the carriage. Orlondir was so vibrant during the festival season; it seemed so cold in between. The Beltane Festival had just ended, and so it would be many moons before Samhain. A pang of nerves hit her as she realized if she was patient, she might see Krishani again. She peered out the front of the caravan. The horse’s tails swished back and forth as they pulled towards the bridge and the moat. She caught them out of the corner of her eye and her senses perked up, the sadness draining away.
“Is that—?” she asked, pointing at the stone walls around the castle.
“Aye, we have arrived,” Desaunius said.
The horses pulled through the wide, heavy gates and trotted into the courtyard. Desaunius yanked on the reins and pulled them to a stop.
Kaliel paused in the back of the carriage, and waited for Desaunius to come around back and assist her. The girl who showed herself a moment later wasn’t Desaunius. She had long brown hair and eyes, pointed ears and a bland linen gown.
“Greetings,” the girl said with bright eyes.
“Greetings,” Kaliel said.
The girl held out her hand and Kaliel hopped off the back of the carriage, landing on the cobble-stone walkway. She winced at the hard stone against her slippers, but shook away the discomfort. She went to get her bag, but the girl already had it on the ground. Kaliel quickened her pace and reached for the little box with the birthstone. It was the only memory of home she had.
Desaunius rounded the carriage and pulled Kaliel into her embrace. “Be well, child,” she whispered into her hair.
Kaliel was unsure how she would feel when the moment came, but now that it was here she was sad. “I want to go home.”
Desaunius laughed. “Be strong,” she said, then whispered, “And wild.”
Kaliel pulled her into an embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered. She glanced at the servant girl for a moment, hoping she would say something, but she stayed silent.
“Give Atara my regards,” Desaunius said.
The servant bowed her head and struggled to sling the bag over her shoulder. “This way, Kaliel.”
Kaliel followed her, but turned, watching Desaunius pull the carriage out of the courtyard and over the bridge. She felt a hand on her shoulder.
“It gets easier,” the servant girl said.
* * *
10-The Witches
The servant girl, who had introduced herself as Melianna, returned hours later when Kaliel had settled into her quarters. It was a tower room in the west wing, circular, a green embroidered rug stretching to the edges of the room, leaving a thin strip of stone bare. To the left was a chest that opened to reveal various compartments. Kaliel put the birthstone in one of the hidden drawers for safekeeping. The rest of the room was typical: a bureau sat to the right side, the wide bed in the center, the nightstand beside it. There was nothing else but a cloak stand.
“Lady Atara is ready to see you,” Melianna said with a knock at the door. She never crossed the threshold, patiently waiting in the hallway.
Kaliel emerged, her hair tied up in a ribbon for a change, her ivory dress traded for the green flowing one she had worn the day after she saw the Great Oak.
“You look pretty,” she said as she led Kaliel to the lower west wing. Even when Kaliel lived in Evennses she knew the joined quarters of the Lord and Lady were across from the balcony that hung over the Grand Hall. When they reached the door Kaliel noticed a shimmer-like glow to it that made her nervous. “Lady Atara is very kind. You shouldn’t be afraid,” Melianna said. She knocked on the door and waited while it swung inwards.
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