AllFreeNovel
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“I love the turning of the seasons,” I murmur. “I’ve never had a favorite season, really. I prefer the phases in between, the shift from winter to spring and summer to fall.”
I’ve always liked winter, signs Bede. I like bundling up. Being cozy.
“Baking is always best in cool weather,” I admit. “I can’t wait until I can do it again. What do you think you’ll do, now that you’re free?”
Come with you, she replies.
I wince. “We talked about this on the journey here. I’m going to the Elvish sanctuary, and it’s going to be dangerous. There’s a chance I won’t make it out alive, or with my memories intact. You shouldn’t come with me.”
She stops in her tracks and signs one long word, letter by letter. Nevertheless. I will come.
The determination in her eyes makes my throat tighten. I can barely manage to say, “Very well. If that’s what you want.”
It is.
We keep walking, approaching the “Jig and Heel.” Now that we’re closer, I can tell the sign is two ladies’ boots, each designed in a different style, yet dancing together—a symbol of the pair that runs the shop. It reminds me of Shenya and Nerith.
When our group of defiant women split up at the wall, we were separated, and I haven’t seen either of them since. I can only hope they found a safe place to rest, that they’re able to consummate the longing I’ve seen between them, and that Nerith can contact her father and begin the process of alerting the nobility to how the concubines were being treated. The King may have been able to hide, sidestep, or explain away what he was doing until now, but with so many witnesses unleashed and given a voice, there’s no way of keeping a lid on the truth this time. At least, I hope not. I lived for years in my village, oblivious to any political goings-on, caring very little about the monarchy as long as the taxes on my business weren’t too prohibitive. I regret not learning more, or caring more.
Never again will I be so apathetic. From this point on, I will consider the political realities of the kingdom to be my business, not simply some distant machinations that have no real impact on my life. I have the responsibility to care about injustice and the abuse of power, even if the abuse is not being perpetrated directly against me.
We’re directly under the sign for the “Jig and Heel” now. Both of us pause, and Bede says, You really think they will trust you with the location of the sanctuary?
“I have no other choice,” I reply. “They are my only link to the Elves.”
Fortifying myself with a deep breath, I push through the shop door.
A bell tinkles as we enter. The place looks entirely normal—rows of angled wooden shelves lined with pairs of beautifully crafted shoes, a few lamps with shades of colored glass, a worktable on which sit bins of tools and a couple of foot-shaped wooden forms.
The curvy woman behind the worktable looks normal too—except she’s staring at us with keen interest. Her eyes are amethyst, a purple so bright it’s right on the verge of glowing. Just like Rupert’s blue eyes.
She has an abundant cloud of bright red hair, so thick it’s impossible to see the tips of her ears. Her skin is dark and glossy, her lips full and painted vivid scarlet to match her hair.
Her gaze darts down, flitting over Bede’s borrowed shoes and latching onto my boots—well, Rupert’s boots.
“You.” She points a long, sharp-nailed finger at me. “Where did you get those? And how do you two know Elvensign?”
“Are you the one known as Enthel, or Lannau?”
“I’m Lannau. Who are you?”
I glance at Bede, and at her encouraging nod, I dive right into my tale. I explain everything, from my first meeting with Rupert by the fountain, to my brother’s lie and its consequences. I tell how Rupert saved me, and how he became enslaved to the Crown. I explain my plan—to learn his true name from his father and free him from the King’s control.
Sometime toward the beginning of my story I became conscious of another presence—a tall, pale woman with sleek dark hair and pierced brows. She glides up behind the first woman’s chair and remains there, one hand on her spouse’s shoulder, until I’ve finished my tale.
“I have to find the Elves quickly,” I explain. “Every day that passes is another day Rupert suffers at the hands of the King. You know the location of the Elven sanctuary—you can tell me where to go.”
Lannau shakes her head. “You’ll never find it. We could give you a map and it still wouldn’t help you. The place is concealed by layers of magic.”
“Then... can you take me there?” A note of desperate pleading enters my voice. “You’re Rupert’s friends, right?”
The two women exchange glances. “With us, he went by the name Rahndek. And yes, we’re his friends, I suppose. Though he did cheat us on the price of the boots. Three of the coins he paid with transformed from silver back into wood a few days later.”
“It’s a clever spell of his, really,” comments the tall woman, Enthel. “Turning chips of bark into coins. It’s undetectable even to our kind, until the enchantment wears off and the gold reverts back to its original shape and material.”
A bolt of horror races through my veins. “The transmutation is temporary?”
“Oh yes. It takes a vast amount of magic to transmute materials permanently—more magic than someone like Rahndek possesses.”
