“Morgan, the ball!” Hattie exclaimed.
“I got it!” Leaping into the air, Morgan flew over Sighla and dribbled the ball towards the goal. She was about to kick it when Rendelia slid across the grass and kicked the ball away from her. Barely leaping over the troll, she screamed, “Diana!”
Out from the sky, Diana plunged down like a bolt of lightning. She deftly stole the ball from Rendelia and kicked it at the makeshift goal. Sighla threw herself to the side, hands extended.
Morgan held her breath as the ball pinged off the orc’s fingers and bounced between the school backpacks that formed the goal.
Their team erupted into cheers. John cantered over and hugged Diana, “We drew! 3-3!”
Sighla picked herself up and dusted herself off. “Good shot,” she growled, smirking at the group.
Morgan was about to fire back, but she managed to suck her lips in and cut herself off. “You almost had it.”
Hattie patted Morgan’s shoulder, causing her to jump a little. “You’re getting pretty good at this.”
The princess smiled, her wings fluttering. “Ah. Um, yeah. What’s this game called again?”
“I heard Frances call it football,” said Hattie.
Sely sipped from his water bottle. “I heard some Otherworlders called it soccer.”
“Alavari call it Groundball,” said Diana from where she was perched on John’s back.
Sighla crossed her arms. “I heard the Erisdalians call it Kickball.”
Morgan groaned and ran her fingers through her hair. “How can one sport have so many names? Urgh.” She wrestled with a particularly annoying tangle only to freeze in place as warm hands helped her unsnarl the lock. Looking over her shoulder, she met Hattie’s wide eyes. The troll’s arms immediately snapped to her side.
“Thanks.” Morgan coughed loudly as she met Diana’s arched eyebrow, Sely’s smirk and John’s deliberately averted gaze. “Well! I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Diana flashed a knowing smile. “See you.”
Waving goodbye, Morgan and Hattie collected their bags and walked toward Frances’s house.
Hattie studied her nails with intense focus. “That was fun.”
Morgan snorted. “Yeah. That’s the first time I’ve played that.”
“Really? You’re pretty good at it.”
“Thanks.” Morgan looked up to the cavern ceiling, marvelling the sunlight slipping through Athelda-Aoun’s crevasse. “Um, what did Frances say about what’s going on by the way? I remember she told you she was going to keep you informed now.”
“Right. It’s not great news, though.” Hattie scratched at her scar, eliciting a nudge from Morgan. Sighing, the half-troll forced her hand down to her side. “Elizabeth, Ayax, Martin and Ginger are continuing to lay siege Erisdale, but progress is slow. They want to reduce casualties so they’re inching forward. As for the war with Thorgoth, it’s going well…too well in Frances’s eyes. All allied forces, the Lapanterians, Queen Titania and the Erisdalians have now secured the other end of the Greenway and after several victories are in striking distance of Minairen. They suspect King Thorgoth has something planned because he’s been on the defensive the entire year, only launching limited raids.”
“Must be some plan. He has to be crazy to let armies get close to Minairen.” Morgan surveyed Hattie’s blank expression. “Have you ever been to Minairen?”
A sad smile slipped onto Hattie’s face. “No. My family were farmers and we lived quite far away. What’s it like?”
Looking up towards Frances’s house, her home, Morgan tried to think back to her childhood home. “Grand, but uncle Timur told me it would be very hard to defend. It’s got walls, but the city spreads outside of them and around lake Minairen. The Great Pike River feeds the lake and also, um, lets the water out.”
Hattie’s eyebrows rose. “How big is Minairen when compared to Athelda-Aoun?”
Morgan pursed her lips. “A lot bigger, but also not really. Like you could fit the northern part of Athelda-Aoun in the lake, but I’m not sure how big the city is when the lake isn’t included. The Royal Quarter, where I lived with King Thorgoth, was definitely not as big as Athelda-Aoun.”
“Quarter? So it wasn’t a palace?”
“No it was well…there were palaces but the thing is that they weren’t palaces?” Morgan made a face and stuck out her tongue. “The Royal Quarter is filled with these mansions that are basically palaces but they’re all part of the “Royal Palace.” So everybody ends up calling them the “something House” with the exception of the “Summer Palace.” I lived in the Red House, one of the smaller palaces.”
Hattie opened the gate to the house. “Was it luxurious?”
“Yes.” Morgan shut the gate behind her, her land lingering on the painted wood for a moment. “But I kind of like it here more.”
The half-troll smiled. “I’m glad you do.” Knocking on the door, Hattie waited for a moment before reaching into her robes for the key. “I wonder what Frances has made for dinner?”
“Ooh, I hope it’s that stew she mentioned!”
Hattie giggled. “You really do love lamb stew don’t you?” She opened the door and stepped inside. “Master, we’re home!”
Morgan kicked off her boots and followed Hattie into the kitchen, only to nearly run into her fellow apprentice when she stopped.
“Hattie? What’s…” Morgan’s eyes widened as she stared at Frances.
The small woman’s face had lost its color. Her eyes were red, listless and unfocused. Several crumpled handkerchiefs were piled high on the table. In her right hand, Frances was clutching a silver locket, while her left clutched Ivy’s Sting.
Hattie’s hands formed fists. “Master? What happened?”
Frances met the gaze of her students. Slowly, she took a breath, wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve and straightened. Somehow her shoulders seemed to stiffen and she raised her head to look up toward the pair.
“Timur was captured and Thorgoth has six dragons on his side. We’re exploring what options we have—”
Morgan dodged around Hattie, her wings flaring out. “Wait uncle was captured? By who?”
“A company of Thorgoth’s soldiers. They’re taking him to Minairen—”
“Then let’s go kill them and rescue him!”
“Morgan I can’t!”
The harpy-troll froze, her eyes wide. Frances stared back with pinched lips and shaking shoulders.
“There are six young dragons that can strike anywhere at anytime along with whatever armies Thorgoth has left! Not to mention Athelda-Aoun guards the fastest way into Erisdale and I can’t even ask mom to stay because she’s likely going to be redeployed to Erlenberg!”
“One mage won’t matter against six dragons!”
“It did the last time Telkandra attacked. Even if I leave Athelda-Aoun to Dwynalina and Anriel to guard against dragons, I’m also one of Athelda-Aoun’s leaders especially since everybody else is absent. I have a responsibility to this city, my home and to keep you and Hattie safe!” Frances’s eyes screwed shut. “And even if I said to hell with it, my standing orders from Queen Forowena, Prince Sebastian and Queen Titania are to stay and guard Athelda-Aoun.”
Slowly shaking her head, Morgan’s jaw worked up and down. “He’s your love. My uncle. To hell with your orders!”
Frances groaned, her puffy red eyes meeting Morgan’s gaze. “Do you think I haven’t tried? Queen Titania is assembling a strike team but she and Queen Forowena have already told me to stay here.”
“Send me.”
Frances sat up, ramrod straight, whilst Morgan looked over her shoulder, her brow inching together.
“Hattie?” Morgan stammered.
“You need a skilled mage and you can’t go. There’s nobody really else to spare as the other Otherworlders are deployed and you have your orders.”
Frances shook her head, fighting the urge not to grimace. “You don’t know Minairen.”
“Frances, this is my fault. The dragons are Telkandra’s children aren’t they?” Hattie watched her mentor’s pinched lips and vain attempt not to wince. Sighing, the half-troll nodded. “They are aren’t they?”
“Hattie, this isn’t your fault.”
“You wouldn’t have had to kill their mother if I—”
Frances stood up so quickly, her chair almost fell over. Yet even as the air rung with the scrape of wood on the floor, Frances yelled, “Stop blaming yourself for that! I told you that I would have stopped you if you gave yourself up.”
Hattie took a deep breath and stepped toward her teacher. “Frances, just let me try.”
“You’re ready for missions and to fight, not to go into the middle of enemy territory into a city you’ve never been!”
Morgan glanced between her teacher and her friend, her eyes wide. “I’ve lived in Minairen. Let me go with her!”
Whirling around, Frances hissed, “No!”
Her hands opening and closing, Morgan frowned, trying not to grind her teeth. “Why not? If you can’t go, then at least let us go.”“I’m not letting my daughters walk into Thorgoth’s palace and that’s final!”
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
Hattie and Morgan blinked, staring at Frances, who had clamped her hands over her mouth. With unsteady hands, she pulled her chair back to the table and sat down, her shoulder sagging. “I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper or called you that.”
Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Hattie looked away, unable to meet Frances’s eye. Slowly, she sat down at the table and reached out with her hand. “That’s…that’s alright, Frances.”
Morgan, swallowed and ran a hand through her hair. With a huff, she sat down and grabbed Frances’s wrist. “Yeah, we get it. You’re worried about us. We know we just…we want to help.”
Blinking, Frances bowed her head and gently clasped the hands of her two girls. A thin, sad smile briefly making its way across her face. “The moment I need your help, the moment I find something you can help with, I’ll let you both know.”
However, Frances didn’t notice though the look that Hattie and Morgan exchanged. The harpy-troll set her jaw, whilst Hattie nodded.
----------------------------------------
They couldn’t leave immediately, but they did have one advantage. Hattie had her own place, which meant they could store supplies they’d bought with their allowance out of Frances’s eye.
That was where Morgan met up with Hattie in the middle of the night, four days after they’d found out about Timur’s capture. The half-troll was already ready with packs and two ponies.
“Thanks Hattie. Did you um, leave a note?”
“Yes. Not that anybody but Frances is going to read mine but yeah, I did write a note.” Hattie exhaled and shook her head as she mounted her pony. Morgan also mounted her pony and together they rode through the evening streets.
“You know…I don’t want you to go,” Hattie said suddenly, as they rode toward the gate.
Morgan bit back a snort. “I figured, but why let me then?”
Hattie smiled and glanced at the harpy-troll batting her lashes. “For one, I need you to teach me how to infiltrate Minairen and you also know about the palaces. And I must admit, it would be nice to travel with a companion.
Eyes wide, and trying her best not to splutter, Morgan coughed officiously. “Oh well, um, I’m glad I could be of service.”
“I also figured that I wouldn’t be able to stop you, so we might as well go together.” Hattie giggled as Morgan blew a raspberry and rolled her eyes.
“Oh ha ha. I also suppose you needed me to get us out of here too.”
“That I do. Is Lightbreaker ready?” Hattie glanced at the white wand. “You seem a lot happier with him these days.”
Morgan arched an eyebrow at her wand, but couldn’t help a ghost of a smile from drifting across her lips.
“He’s still a bit of a stick up but then again, he’s a literal stick.”
Oh why did I choose you as my wielder? Lightbreaker grumbled softly.
“You’ve never explained and you probably never will!” Morgan readjusted her grip and took a breath. “Now, if you please, help me out with this one. I’ve only done it once.”
Alright alright.
Raising her wand, Morgan focused on the lanterns and lights lining the walls and leading up to the gate. She took a deep breath and whispered several Words of Power.
One by one, the lights started to wink out. The flames themselves didn’t disappear. Something still seemed to dance in the sconces within the glass panels. Yet the road and the gatehouse were blanketed by a carpet of darkness. Not even the glint of glass or metals could be seen in the gloom.
“What the? Someone light a torch!”
“Ow! They are lit, there's just no light!”
Hattie touched her heels to her pony. “Go!”
The two galloped toward the gatehouse as the guards tried to find out what was going on. Hattie raised her wand, ready to fire a spell in case they were stopped. However, the guards were so confused, the pair were under the archway and through the gate.
But once through the gate that changed.
“Someone got out!”
“I heard horses. Musketeers!”
Morgan, her eyes wide, looked at Hattie whose brow was furrowed. “Please tell me you got a plan!
“I got it, don’t worry.” Hattie raised her wand and started to sing. Thick blue smoke poured out from her wand.
The walls from Athelda-Aoun were soon completely masked from view. Their disappearance behind the cloud of smoke put a cold, twinging feeling in Morgan’s stomach.
Noting her friend’s pinched lips and forlorn look over her shoulder, Hattie called out, “Morgan, we’ll be back.”
The harpy-troll stiffened, her gaze shooting to her friend. “How did you…” she shook her head her hands tightening onto her reins. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Hattie swallowed. “Now let’s hope Frances wakes up late tomorrow and doesn’t check your room.”
----------------------------------------
Frances made breakfast with her mind still on Timur. Their new intelligence had said that he was now in Minairen, but while his death hadn’t been announced, that was it. It was nowhere near enough to go on, and while she knew Titania would still launch the expedition, she didn’t know how successful it was going to be.
As she poured herself a cup of tea and cut a slice of freshly made bread for herself, Frances realised she didn’t hear Morgan starting to wake up. Sighing through her smile, she got up and made her way up the stairs.
“Morgan, it’s time to wake up. Breakfast is ready.”
Her…her…Frances patted her cheeks with both hands and tried Morgan’s door. It was locked. She rapped on it with her knuckles. “Morgan? I made focaccia bread.”
The lack of any sound from the room settled onto Frances’s skin like a cold, slimy coat. Her palms sweaty, Frances banged on the room once, twice. She drew Ivy’s Sting. “Morgan? Morgan I’m coming in!” The unlocking spell stumbles from her lips and she slammed the door open so quickly she thought she ripped the lock from the frame. Tearing around the corner of the bedroom, all Frances found was an empty, perfectly made bed and open windows.
“What…what—” Frances searched the room with eyes, her shaking hands touching the oak frame, tearing the sheets off the mattress. “Morgan? Morgan!” Her throat was getting hoarse. When did that happen? That didn’t matter where was her—
Her eyes suddenly saw it, a single note left underneath a flat glassy-red rock. She remembered Morgan had picked it off the beach one day after practising with fire spells. Her spell’s heat had fused some of the sand together into this composite.
Shaking hands pushed the rock off the note as Frances read aloud.
Dear Frances,
I’m going to get uncle Timur back. I know you can’t, but I can. I’m sorry that I had to leave this way, but I know you wouldn’t have let me leave because well you’re…you’re a good mom, Frances.
If I don’t come back. I love you. I’m sorry. I know that isn’t enough and you’re probably really angry and sad, but I got to do this. Don’t worry, I’m not going alone.
Morgan
Frances stuffed the letter in her pocket. She was down the stairs to her home and racing to Hattie’s before she even registered why. When she did, the panic pounding her heart made the buildings she ran by blur in her vision. She didn’t care how many people she brushed by or used her magic to just leap over.
“Nonononono—”
Hattie’s home loomed ahead. Frances sprinted up the bridge. She was panting, heaving deep breaths, her lungs aching and sore feet shooting pain right up into her knees, but she didn’t stop. She threw the door open and found Hattie’s home empty.
Another note lay on the table sticking out from under a small striped blue teacup and saucer. It’d been a housewarming gift to Frances after Hattie had moved back into her home.
With wind-chilled fingers, Frances pulled the paper up and read it with chapped lips.
Dear Frances,
Don’t worry, I will take care of Morgan and myself. If our rescue attempt doesn’t work I will abort it and drag her away myself if I have to.
And I do mean don’t worry, Frances. I intend to live. I know you’re concerned and you’re right to be, but I’ve thought about this in private for some time. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to keep hurting and I’ve realised this because of you.
You showed me even after someone has lost everything, they can still be loved, find love and be happy.
So I will be back, with the love of your life. I promise.
Love,
Hattie
Tears dripped onto the ink, running black rivulets down the paper as Frances gripped the letter so hard she almost tore it in her hands.
“Oh my girls. Why…oh why…” Shaking, Frances sat down on one of the dining chairs, trying to think. She had to come up with a plan, something.
Her girls, her students, were heading into Thorgoth’s capital, when he already had six dragons on his side.
She was stuck in Athelda-Aoun. She had orders to stay and guard the city from the queen.
But her girls were going to Minairen. Her girls, one of whom never had seen battle or embarked on a mission. Both were still hurting and traumatised and yet they were going to rescue Timur.
Timur…her one true love, who made her heart flutter at the very thought. Now to even imagine him held captive by his father made her stomach roil and forced her hand to cover her mouth.
She had to go. But she couldn’t. She had orders and they were reasonable orders. Orders that had to be obeyed or she’d put herself and everybody else in danger.
She was pacing across Hattie’s flat now, muttering to herself. Half-formed words tumbled from her mouth, incoherently strung together. Maybe she could substitute herself with a couple of Otherworlders? Yes, but they didn’t have the trust of the city and—what about recalling Martin and the others from Erisdale—wait that was insane and—
“Frances!”
She needed to find a plan! She had to save her girls, her fiance and—
“Dear!”
She ran into something long and thin that somehow just appeared across her stomach. It whacked the wind from her and she staggered, wheezing. Blinking, trying to clear her blurred vision, she looked up to find her mother, hunched over and holding onto her staff.
“Mom? Oh mom! Morgan and Hattie ran after Timur!”
“I heard. The gate guards told me someone, perhaps two someones, who could control light itself snuck through to escape. This was last night and they took two ponies.” Edana strode forward. A tired, wan smile drifting across her lips. Frances stared at her mother, not sure what she was doing as the older woman patted her on the shoulder.
“Frances, go after them.”
She shook her head, one hand rubbing her eyes. “What?”
Sighing, Edana gently brushed her right hand by Frances’s cheek. The touch of her callused hands grounding Frances to reality and widening her eyes. “Go after them. I’m the Firehand, your superior here. You report to me, remember? I’m telling you now that you should go.”
Frances clasped the hand touching her cheek. “Wait, but the queen—”
Now both of Edana’s hands cupped Frances’s face. Bringing her forehead close, she touched her head to her daughter’s and spoke in a firm, loving voice. “I will deal with Queen Forowena. You aren’t going to be able to fight with Timur, Morgan and Hattie on your mind and Timur is far too dangerous of an intelligence asset to be left in enemy captivity for long. I think you should have been sent all along if I’m being honest.”
She was so relieved, Frances almost lost her footing. It was only her mother’s touch, and her warmth on her forehead that reminded her that she was here, and holding her mother. “Are you sure mom?”
“More than anything. Besides—” Edana winked and allowed herself to smirk “—You and I can’t allow our students to go alone into danger like this.”
A spluttering snort erupted from Frances’s lips as she couldn’t help but laugh despite the tears running down her face. “Oh dear. This was how you felt when I ran away. I’m so sorry I put you through that.”
Wrapping her arms around daughter, Edana gently kissed Frances’s forehead before pulling the younger woman tight. “I’ve forgiven you for that a long time ago, Frances, just as I’m sure you will forgive your own students. Now, they may have only a day’s head start on you but you need to pack and gather what intelligence and maps of Minairen we have before you leave. So start on that. I’ll get you the horses you need, I think four if you are to catch up with them. ”
“Thanks mom, I’ll start on that.” Squeezing Edana, like she was a little girl once again, Frances momentarily buried her head in her mother’s shoulder. “Mom, thank you. Thank you so much for being there for me.”
Edana patted Frances’s back with one hand, and wiped her eyes with the back of the other. “It’s been my pride and honour, my dear. Now go. There’s no time to waste.”
----------------------------------------
Dried pork jerky sucked, but it was food and because it was food, Morgan did her best to rip a piece of tough meat off her slice. Chewing with a vengeance, the princess warbled, “Do you think we brought enough food for the trip?”
From atop her pony, Hattie gave her piece a few more chews before swallowing. Resisting the urge to make a face, the half-troll glanced at their packs. “No, but that’s why I brought some coin. We’ll have to forage and to steal our way to Minairen, but our dry rations and coin will last us until then.”
Morgan nodded, ripping out another piece of her jerky as her pony cantered down the Greenway, before she suddenly grimaced. “Right, but how do we get out of Minairen?”
Hattie swallowed, hard, her brow itching together. “That is a good question. I suppose if we could coordinate with Frances or perhaps Queen Titania, they could organize a rescue party but that would kind of belay the point of going alone in the first place.”
The harpy-troll sighed. “We should have spent more time planning this, but I guess we’re out of time. Do you have a communication device of some kind?”
“I do—” Hattie’s ears suddenly stiffened. Turning to the right, she cupped one hand to her ear. “Hoofbeats and some kind of carriage. We got to hide.”
Morgan could hear it now too, a sound that seemed almost like a distant thunderstorm. “Wait, it’s coming from Athelda-Aoun. But it can’t be. It’s been a week and we even passed Kairon-Aoun.”
Hattie nudged her pony toward the side of the Greenway. “There are a lot of hoofbeats Morgan. Hurry let’s hide!”
“Alright um, but where?”
“What do you mean where—” Hattie looked up and around, her eyes picking out the carved stone in the dim light. She could see the vents letting in the light from the ceiling, the moss that crawled up the cave walls. Ahead of her, the road stretched on for miles, but there was no exit in sight. The only thing they could see ahead was the distant glow of sunlight coming from the main exit from the Greenway.
“Can you fly me up?” she stammered.
Morgan looked over both the ponies, the packs and Hattie. “I could drop you, or you could lose your grip and we’ll have no supplies!”
“But then…” Her hands dropping to her side, the half-troll stared at the Greenway and the distant horses that were approaching. “Oh we are so in trouble.”
Looking around, Morgan’s hands started to shake as she came to the same conclusion as her friend. There was nothing they could do, but wait to see who had come to fetch them.