Blue Bell, Eganene
The boy was asleep, his blue eyes closed and his pale face covered in perspiration. She was holding his palm and the pads of his fingers were soft against her wrinkled skin. Beside her, the candle flickered fitfully.
Agatha tucked the errant corners of the blanket around Jamie’s body, wondering for the thousandth time how he was alive and how he’d healed himself. She and Selinda had poured power into his body, but he’d been the one to pull that power in and shape it to force his wounds closed. She’d seen many, many things in her life. She’d seen works of majic so incredible that they defied definition, but she’d never seen anything like that.
There were stories told of the people from the far north and their King, Rynald. It was said they had powers different from their southern brothers and sisters, power of incredible Healing. There were many Eganese, or there had been, she thought with a frown, that had been able to fix smaller wounds, broken bones or fractures. She’d never met anyone who could do as Jamie had done. It defied reason.
And he was from Earth.
He should have no power at all.
She’d tested him herself. Shivering, she thought about searching her bags for more clothing, but they were probably rotted away. Little she brought from Jamie’s world would exist in a few hours. Occasionally, metal objects remained, but that was all.
Agatha had always found it depressing, watching the Earth objects rot and disappear. There was nothing she could do about it, even if she dared to use her majic. Many years ago, enamored by the other world and excited by the possibilities for her people, Agatha had searched for a way to preserve items brought from Earth.
Hundreds of people had helped, those with majic laboring for months to keep the objects from deteriorating. In the end, it had been her husband, Joseph Dean, who discovered the spell. The stasis binding. As long as an object was preserved within moments of entering Eganene, it could be bound for use later. But as soon as it was released, it would begin its inevitable decay once more.
Thankfully, Selinda had provided them both with Eganene clothes before she’d departed. Agatha had hoped for more, but understood the woman’s fear. By now Jokihm would know that she’d returned to Eganene. She could only pray that he didn’t know about Bekka. The girl’s strength was still hidden, not yet manifest in her youthful body. Unless…But that thought could not be born. Bekka was lost and frightened here, but she wasn’t a target.
Agatha, on the other hand, would be like a beacon to the Family. The strength of the majic needed to Travel from Earth to Eganene was more than most could summon in a lifetime. That power was her legacy to Bekka and the reason that her granddaughter might lose her life. Those with ability would have felt the repercussions of her Traveling. The Family would have mobilized. By now, they would be in Delphi, combing the streets.
But Agatha had Traveled a second time and the Family’s trackers, their Dogs, as Selinda had called them, would be headed straight for Blue Bell. For those with eyes that could see it, her Traveling had lit the sky above the town. It glared like a red comet sucked to the ground from the heavens. They would follow her and she hoped, lose her granddaughter’s trail.
Jokihm. Agatha squeezed Jamie’s hand. The man’s name sent lances of pain through her soul. He had ordered the raid on her daughter’s palace.
Agatha had trusted him. He had been her friend. She shook her head, her earrings jingling in the silence, alone with her memories. The boy had not stirred and Scottie was out hunting.
It had been seventeen years since she last used majic and the cost of her recent efforts was devastating. Softly, as to not bother the boy, she lay beside him and closed her eyes. Her dream began in a park. The sky was an almost unbroken expanse of blue and a breeze played with her long, ebony locks. It was a new construction, with carefully selected trees and shrubs. Flowers had been handpicked and planted. She was in Orlenia and this garden was the first of its kind.
Agatha came every day to watch it being built. Heavy with child, she sat below the pear tree, surrounded by roses. It was a flower plant from the new world. She couldn’t smell them, since the stasis binding held them, but they were beautiful to look upon. Her maid, Lillel sat beside her, in case she needed anything.
This was her first pregnancy and her husband was worried. She still had a few weeks left and this moment of peace was a rarity. For months, all of Eganene had tracked her comings and goings. According to her maid, they had reason. Agatha had to concede that it was a novel experience.
The pregnancy itself wasn’t new, of course. It was the that fact that she was going to be holding the Umbilicus as she gave birth.
But it was her fourth year holding the bond and Agatha felt confident. The women kept telling her she was underestimating the pain of childbirth, that with her first child she had no way of knowing what she would experience.
“Have you given any more thought to your decision,” Lillel asked, her ears twitching. The Yila knew she shouldn’t be addressing her so informally, but Agatha had been working on her. She wanted a friend. There were plenty of maids.
“I can’t think about much else,” Agatha replied, her eyes scanning the tree line. She was searching her balcony, looking for her husband. He must be on some business for the Congress, she thought.
Lillel sighed, “What will you do?”
“I don’t want to give up the bond. Not even for a day, or a few days, or even for a few hours.”
“But wouldn’t it be easier?”
Agatha nodded, tracking a few birds that were winging from the lemon trees, “Of course it would. But it might not be safe.”
Her maid looked worried, her little cat whiskers twitching downward. “Why not?” she asked. “If I’m not presuming.”
“Because I know the bond,” Agatha replied. “And it requires more energy than I can explain. If most of the other women don’t want it, why would I hand it over to the Men’s Council. Half of them aren’t even as powerful as poor, old Trudi.”
The Yila giggled.
“It’s true, though,” Agatha continued, hunting for clover in the grass. “It’s hard to explain. You know how some of us are able to do more than others?”
Lillel nodded.
“I can do more than all the men put together and most of the women, too. The Men’s Council doesn’t want to believe that. They think they can hold the bond, but I think it would crush them.”
“But Joseph-Dean!”
Agatha’s expression turned serious, “I know. He was one of the only ones to vote ‘No’. He believes me.”
“Could you show them somehow, some kind of demonstration?”
Agatha sighed, letting her arms rest beneath her swollen belly, “Possibly, although time is short.”
“You think the baby will come soon?”
“I do. The timing is right and she is so big,” Agatha said, rubbing her stomach gently. “We’ve decided to name her Milendra.”
The Yila’s yellow eyes dilated in pleasure, “A beautiful name.”
“I like your idea of a demonstration, though. They’ll call the Men’s Council again two days from now. I’ll think of something before then.”
“You have an idea?” her maid asked, moving further into the shade. It was hot outside, especially for her. Soft fur covered her body, her hair short and red.
Agatha nodded, “I want to talk to Joseph-Dean about it first.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the bustling metropolis outside her palace walls. The city was thriving, the gate guards reporting at least a hundred new souls entering Orlenia daily. They came with their lives on their backs or stacked high behind their mules. Agatha was aware of the hungry voices and the desperate settlers. She had asked the Men’s Council to find work for the immigrants. Now, the surrounding fields were being tilled. This autumn would prove to be the most bountiful in history.
She made a mental note to check on the date of the next Farmer’s Council’s meeting. Agatha’s guards provided protection for the farmers laboring outside the city and the Farmer’s Council provided an opportunity to air any complaints before things came to blows.
Her friend, Jokihm, was leader of that council. Despite the fact that he was a senior member of the Congress, he had, at her request, agreed to sit for the Farmer’s Council. Tall and handsome, he made a striking figure. He was an eloquent speaker and the people liked and followed him. She’d been pleasantly surprised at his ability to convince the members of the Farmer’s Council to compromise.
She wanted to be there at the next meeting to see him in action, as well as to thank him for his efforts. He’d sent her the finalized plans for the Sowing and it looked like there was enough to save a third of the harvest. It would feed the hungry this winter.
“My lady,” her maid said, interrupting her thoughts, “have you heard talk of the Grinforts and Hudears?”
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
Agatha frowned. She could always count on her maid to hear the most recent gossip first. Her guess was that the Yilas probably had better hearing than their human counterparts.
“No, is there trouble?” She desperately hoped there wasn’t. The Grinforts ruled the lands to the West, the mountains and plains in the middle of the country. There had been some issues with some of the smaller holdouts, especially the Areaslians, Bellviews and the Janthums.
In her opinion, they were defying reason. All three of their lands were smaller than the Grinforts, how could they expect to holdout without help? Eganese forces had been killing or driving away the monsters for the last few years, pushing them East to West, straight into the holdout lands. Without protection, the people would be slaughtered.
She wasn’t sure what else she could do. Over the last three years, she’d united more than twenty disparate countries into a functional government and a significant military force. If the holdouts didn’t want in, well, Congress wasn’t going to push them. “I’ve heard nothing,” Agatha replied. “What do you know?”
The Yila’s tiny nose twitched, “I know nothing. I’ve only heard rumors, but there has been talk of a disturbance between those two families, an issue of marriage, from what I understand. The eldest daughter of the Hudear line is of marrying age. She is a beauty and strong in her power.”
“Seems like a decent match. Both houses are prosperous and together supply the majority of troops in the Borderlands,” Agatha said, shading her eyes from the sun. A set of guards strolled by and she saw Lillel wave, one of the men returning her attention. “Marshall?”
Lillel smiled.
“So, what is the gossip? They are both strong and wealthy families. The Grinforts have sent us more than four hundred horses this year and the Hudears have fed our armies with their apples, grains and meat. They seem well suited, to tell you the truth.”
“I have heard she is enamored with the youngest Grinfort brother, but her father has betrothed her to the eldest. And, they say, she is but fourteen.”
Agatha snorted, eyes flashing, “Ridiculous. An antiquated practice! She is heir of her own fortune. Why should her father promise her to a man she does not want, only to consolidate power that no longer exists?”
Lillel shrugged, “I do not know their customs.”
“Perhaps he needs a reminder that they rule by my leave,” Agatha said. “I’ll write to this Lady Hudear and see if she would like my assistance. It is long past time that fathers consider their daughters more than pawns. Does he not realize that her power probably dwarfs his many times over?”
The Yila grinned, her cat-like teeth flashing in the sunlight, “You have changed many things, Mistress, but not all people see as you do. They remember times long ago.”
“Those times are history, Lillel. The Umbilicus has heralded a new age. From darkness into the light, majic will show us a better world. Some of the old ones don’t understand this. They are too weak to believe.”
“I have no majic,” her maid said, “but I believe.”
Agatha laughed, the sound carrying across the garden into the busy streets. “Yes, but you have seen what I have done. The old ones, especially the men, remember a time when they ruled. To have a young woman as their leader is strange to them. And majic is even stranger.”
“How did it change?” her maid asked.
“I remember my father wrote it all in a book. He and my mother had been journeying across the lands, hoping to find others. They already had the idea to pull the different countries together in order to form a more perfect nation.
They were newly married and had wedded their nations. It took them only a few years to clear their mountains of monsters and secure their boarders. Less death, more peace and their country prospered. They wanted to expand it further, to offer their peace to all the countries surrounding them.”
Lillel looked interested, “Where were your lands?”
“Far north of here,” Agatha replied, twirling her raven hair about her finger. “They lived in the mountains around the swamp of Shingtown. I’ve been there once. It is beyond gorgeous. Green pine forests that extended as far as you can see. It takes months and months to walk them all.”
“Sounds beautiful,” her maid smiled.
“Indeed, beautiful and peaceful. But they believed they could give this gift to all people. So that every child could grow up and live without fear.”
“What hearts they had!” Lillel exclaimed. “My people love their families and protect their young, but they do not have such grand ideas.”
“My father and mother were both rulers in their own lands. They had an opportunity to make the lives of others better. And they took it.”
“So they left?”
“They did. For the first years of their marriage, my mother was childless, so they decided to make the world their child. They searched and searched, a small military contingent escorting them outside the borders of their own country.
They were far to the West, when there was some kind of an explosion, a grey cloud that covered the sky with ash and blocked the sun for almost a week. My mother was pregnant with me, very pregnant. Probably about as pregnant as I am now,” Agatha said, petting her belly.
“They had hoped to return home before my birth, but the trip was too long and arduous, even with a wagon. The pregnancy had come as a surprise. Both of my parents fell ill breathing in the smoke from the grey cloud, as did all of their guards. So they stopped and took shelter.”
“How terrible for them!” Lillel cried, covering her mouth. “But they lived?”
“Yes, both of them. But it wasn’t just those close to the explosion who became sick. The wind pushed the cloud across the lands, infecting people wherever it went. Some died. I’ve heard horror stories about the people who were close to the explosion.”
“But your parents?”
Agatha smiled. “They were fine. Although I was born early, there, where they sheltered.”
“So you think that majic came from this explosion?
“It is as reasonable an explanation as any I’ve heard. Before, there was no majic. And today, there is. I am the strongest of them all and I was born closest to the explosion. Do you not agree that it is plausible?”
The Yila nodded, “But what of my people? We have no majic.”
Agatha shook her head, “I did not say I had all the answers, Lillel. Perhaps the explosion affected other races in different ways. Just as all Yila have yellow eyes and soft fur, and we don’t have whiskers and can’t purr.”
Lillel looked mortified, “Mistress!”
Agatha laughed, “No one can hear us. Your secret is safe with me.” Regarding her friend earnestly, she asked, “And how is Marshall, anyway. Has he taken to city life, yet?”
“I suppose,” Lillel replied, her ears quivering. “You know it is a very new thing for Yila to live in cities. We are used to our caves and our communities.”
“Do you miss them terribly? Your sisters and brothers.”
“Yes, although I have you,” her maid admitted. “Marshall, he, um… He doesn’t fit in as well with the guards. But he is trying.”
“Give it time,” Agatha coached. “Men need longer to adapt. They are creatures of habit, comfortable with the familiar. Give him time, Lillel, he will come around.”
“I hope you are right. I was thinking of taking a trip back, after the baby is here and you are back to normal.”
Agatha smiled, fixing the lacy sundress beneath her so that she was more comfortable. “Of course. Take all the time you need. I can have Nilli help me with the baby. You know she’ll love it.”
The Yila snorted, or would have snorted, but it came out sounding more like a kitten sneezing. “Nilli will be thrilled. I don’t think she has been too happy having a Yila as head maid.”
Agatha glanced at her sharply. “It’s something she will have to get used to, since I don’t intend on replacing you. Ever. Do you remember when we met, Lillel? Has it truly been seven years?”
Lillel nodded, her face thoughtful.
“You miss your family,” Agatha said.
“Yes,” she replied. “I’m hoping that when Marshall and I return, we will be able to convince some of the others to move here. It would be nice to see some familiar faces.”
“I’m sure my husband would be able to assist in getting them employment in the guard or in the Council’s household staff.”
The Yila ducked her head in appreciation and changed the subject, “Your meeting is at four this afternoon. Will you be holding it in the larger chamber?”
“I think we will need to. There are at least a dozen visiting ladies who will want to attend and be briefed before Congress meets next week.”
“Madame Winfort asked to meet with you for tea at two, if you are available. What shall I tell her?”
Agatha grinned, Jenny Winfort was a new friend. “Send word that I will be happy to have her in my chambers for tea. If you could have them bring up some of those little lemon biscuits.”
“Of course, Mistress.”
“Agatha.”
“Sorry,” Lillel ducked. “Of course, Agatha.”
The young woman peeked further over the window’s ledge to where the old woman snored softly next to the wounded boy. He slept much too deeply, taking great gulps of air as if his body were drowning. She couldn’t see the boy’s face, but he had a pleasant build. She flushed, knowing that she ought to mind her task, but he was almost a man. She was very lonely.
Around the cottage many people had gathered. None of them spoke. They knew they shouldn’t be there. Selinda had warned them to stay away, but they hadn’t listened. Most were from the older generation, men and women who had been parents and grandparents for some time now. She was the youngest of the crowd, in her thirties. It was she who crept close to the cottage to peer into the broken window.
The others remained hidden in the trees. They didn’t want to speak to the woman who had come back from the grave. They were scared of her power. They were the majicless remains, the ones spared by The Family’s culling.
Yet, they remembered their loved ones, their special ones who had been taken from them. They feared for their children and their children’s children who were born with the Talent.
The old woman was the reason for their pain. That wasn’t true, but they wished it were. They wondered how this woman’s presence changed their world. A few of them even worried for her, fondness and love creeping passed their fear.
The young woman at the window peered in again and then ducked back into hiding. Red and yellow light melted away from the old boards like hot butter. It made her joyous and terrified. The old queen looked nothing like she imagined. She was ancient, a worn husk. She had power in her, but right now the old queen was drained.
So many questions, but she did not dare to ask them. Her mother was in the woods watching and silence had been the price she paid. Selinda was a friend to her, one of her only. She would have to ask her the questions in the morning. The woman had been thinking of leaving, anyway, going with those who had already gone south to fight.
She glanced a last time at the small cottage and the sheen of power that floated in the air. What life did she have here? No husband, no children. All she had was her parent’s fear and a small cottage where she could sleep. She would ask Selinda her questions and then decide. The last storm had been a big one, there would only be one or two more. She could find the others.
A cat jumped up on the window and she nearly screamed, clamping her hand tightly over her mouth. Her mother would be watching her, as would the rest of the town. She didn’t want to seem foolish. The animal seemed friendly. It rubbed its head against her glove as if in greeting.
This was the old queen’s cat, she was sure of it. If it liked her, perhaps the she might like her as well. She eyed the old woman, wondering if she couldn’t just wait for her to wake.
Selinda had been forbidden from teaching her any majic, her parents having solicited a bond and promise. They were scared for her, but the young woman knew they were wrong. If the Family found her, saw her up close, then the Dogs would take her. They had taken girls from the nearest villages. Those women had never been seen again.
She could not wait for that to happen. Her parents and their parents were frightened, but they were old. She was young yet and she still had a future. She didn’t want to spend her years watching her parents grow old.
Shielding the window with her back, she closed her eyes. She focused her energy on the sleeping boy. She needn’t have worried. Her mother and the others would not be able to see what she did. They were blind to her majic. No one had taught her, but she had watched Selinda pray enough times to understand how it worked.
Softly, she mouthed the words. She could feel the soft fur of the cat against her wrist. She took it as an omen, pouring herself into her prayer. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw a blue and cream braid of light swirling towards the boy. It covered him from head to toe, settling upon him like a blanket. He did not stir, but it settled into him, disappearing through his coat into this body. The rise and fall of his chest became a little softer, a little more natural.
She stroked the cat’s head and slipped away, back to the woods and her neighbors. She hoped the boy would survive. Perhaps they might meet again. She would pray for spring and the strength to do what she must.