She threw back the blankets and rose from the bed. A sheen of perspiration glistened on her skin, pasting her shift to her so that every line and curve was accentuated, and as the cold night air touched her flesh, the heat of it quickly froze. Her lungs seized momentarily and she fought for breath as she reached for her robe.
The cold stone floor kissed her naked feet as she hurled herself across the room, past the window through which the pale light of the twin moons shone, past the fire in the hearth that had turned to ashes, through the chamber doorway and onto the stairs that spiraled treacherously downward in a steep descending arc that promised a long and painful fall to one who was not careful where they tread.
But she knew the way. These stairs were as familiar to her as her own skin and she maneuvered acrobatically around the slippery worn spots in the stone, skipping steps where that stone had begun to deteriorate and crumble with age and disrepair.
Nothing had been properly cared for since her mother's death and her father's retreat into his own rooms...into his own private misery. And, even as she hurried, somewhere in the back of her mind, she promised herself that she would speak to the stone mason come sunup on this day...that she would no longer tolerate the neglect of her childhood home, this once proud and stately manor.
She could hear the neighs and stamping hooves of horses in the courtyard and the frantic rise and fall of voices, only one of which she could identify. It was Charles, her father's valet. It was this noise which had awakened her. She could discern the grief and anger in his voice as he argued with the riders who had arrived in the dark of night and she had only a moment to think that it was unusual for Charles to let his own emotions shine through his usual composed facade before she reached the bottom of the stairs and thrust herself into the hall, nearly colliding with Charles in her haste.
The silence was immediate.
The doors had been left standing open, revealing the darkened courtyard outside. She felt the cool rush of wind and pulled her robe tightly against her chest, not only for warmth, but for the sake of modesty as well. Her thin shift with it's lace and ribbon bodice was not the usual attire for greeting guests.
There were three of them, their faces hidden from her beneath the dark cowls and folds of their riding cloaks, and they stood fanned out in the doorway as if to shield the household from the night. In the light of the few torches left burning overnight, they seemed dark and ominous, small against the backdrop of the enormous doorway yet like giants at the same time. The flames danced upon their forms, making it impossible to discern more than the vague shapes of them.
She raised a hand to her throat and let it flutter there, bowing her head momentarily in greeting. With her other hand, she brushed the long russet curls from her face as she tried to peer at them more closely.
"Mistress, my apologies. You should not have risen from your slumber. Only...they wouldn't be turned away..." Charles spoke nervously, the lilting tones of his voice shaking and uncertain. He bowed to her and stepped back, giving her a clearer view of the intruders.
She swallowed, although her mouth and throat had begun to feel dry, and barely glanced at Charles as he gestured toward the three figures and stammered through an introduction.
"May I...present...um...Mistress Kalel McAllister of Alliska."
At the sound of her name, she nodded again and, patting poor old Charles on the shoulder, she stepped forward. "To what do I owe this intrusion, gentlemen?"
At this, the nearest of the party stepped forward and threw off the cloak, revealing long golden tresses that shimmered in the firelight.
Not a gentleman. Not at all.
The woman stepped forward and bowed hastily toward Kalel, the tips of her hair brushing the stone floor before she straightened. She met Kalel's eyes with the blue gleam of her own. "Mistress, I am Rhoden Cade and, please, pardon our presumption. We have ridden for a night and a day and are road weary and ill mannered. But needs be we speak with your father as soon as we are able."
Kalel frowned and moved toward the woman, studying her. This newcomer was tall and sturdy, wearing the breeches and boots of a man. Amongst the flaxen waves of her hair were tied several braids that trailed along the sides of a square face that might have been considered plain if not for the fullness of the lips, the contours of the eyes. At her hip there hung a sword, looped through her thick leather riding belt and hanging freely as if meant to be kept near at hand...as if she might feel the need to draw it at any moment. She stood straight and proud, her eyes following Kalel's every movement in a way that gave Kalel discomfort. She wasn't accustomed to such behavior, especially from an untitled woman.
"And you, Miss Cade, wish to see my father? He has been gravely ill and it is only by a stroke of luck that you have not roused him with your unruly entry into our home. May I inquire as to the nature of your business with him?" Kalel crossed her arms over her chest and waited for a response, fire dancing in the green depths of her eyes.
But the response didn't come from the woman.
"Our business, Mistress McAllister, is none of yours. It is to be discussed with your father, the noble lord. And none other."
Kalel turned toward the sound of this voice, ready to chastise it's owner for his insolence and lack of respect. He still wore his cloak, but he had pushed back the hood to reveal his face. Kalel gasped and took several involuntary steps backwards.
He was taller than his companions and lean; sleek like a cat. His movements as he removed his cloak and tossed it into Charles' outstretched arms were feline in nature...feral, quick, and strong. Curls of black hair whispered at his shoulders and framed a pale angular face from which peered a pair of large brown eyes. His full crimson lips parted to reveal a smile that looked as if it could swallow her whole.
She had never seen so many teeth, white and even and gleaming like tinted glass.
He was beautiful.
And he was not human.
"Gareth Wright." She whispered his name again and shook her head.
She paced back and forth before again settling herself on a bench beside the door to her father's chamber. She'd been restless ever since Charles rushed from the hall to wake her father and prepare his rooms for visitors. For one such as this Gareth Wright, certain allowances had to be made. Curtains had to be tightly drawn. The fire needed to be properly stoked. Twas not every day that his lordship welcomed one of Master Wright's ilk into his home. One should be careful not to offend.
Although, Kalel couldn't care less how offended he would or would not be. From the very first words he'd spoken in her presence, he'd shown himself to be rude, arrogant, and completely disagreeable. She would gladly see him gone, one way or another. Whether he rode off of his own volition or turned to ashes in the morning sun, if the legends about his kind were to be believed. It had taken every ounce of her strength to regain her composure in his presence after that initial confrontation, and for that alone, she loathed him.
Within moments, the visitors had been summoned to his lordship's rooms and Kalel had been unceremoniously shut out, left to langish in this confused state. Even taking into account the time it had taken for her to return to her chamber, wriggle into suitable attire, and braid her hair, it was as if she'd sat in that very spot for ages. Even now, she could hear the voices within, muffled and ambiguous, and she strained to hear the actual words. But so far she'd been able to decipher very little of what was going on behind the heavy oak doors.
"They've been in there all morning!" She cried, wringing her hands. She looked toward the maidservant who stood nearby, making quite a show of dusting the candlesticks on a table. "Whatever could they be going on about, Lucy?"
"I'm certain I don't know, m'lady." Lucy replied as she brushed her cloth along the table's edge for the fifth time. "Tis not my place to meddle in such goings on, as you well know."
Kalel, far from fooled by Lucy's show of indifference, studied her friend with narrowed eyes. "I know you too well to fall for that sort of drivel. You are just as desperate as I am to know what's being said in father's parlor."
Lucy sighed, gave the table one last slap with her rag for good measure, and joined her friend on the bench. She brushed dust from her apron and straightened her skirt before speaking. "That still doesn't make it my business any more than it is yours. 'Lel. And you well know that I have heard nothing more than you have from out here."
"You have the keenest ears in the house, Lucy. You always know what's happening before anyone else does. No gossip escapes your notice."
"What would you have me do? Skulk into his lordship's chamber on the pretense of a wild hunt for rabid dustbunnies? You know as well as I do that your father would cast me out before one whisk of my broom. He would see me for the sneaky spy that I am. He has always seen."
Kalel sighed and folded her hands in her lap. "He knows us both too well."
"Exactly."
So they sat in silence.
After several moments had passed, during which the muffled voices continued beyond the doors and Kalel's curiosity grew by degrees, Lucy hesitantly spoke again. "He's certainly a handsome monster."
She snickered. "Oh, Lucy! Do you think of nothing else?"
"You thought the same. I was just the only one brave enough to speak the words." Lucy grinned, parting thin pink lips to reveal small straight teeth. But then, everything about Lucy was small. Petite and lively, her pale blue eyes sparkling, she brushed a wisp of soft brown hair from her cheek. "The other gentleman, Master Regan. He's not so difficult to look at either."
Kalel smiled at her friend. "You're incorrigible."
"You've known me since we were babes, 'Lel. It's taken you this long to figure that out?"
Kalel giggled and playfully slapped at her friend's arm.
There was a sound from beyond the doors, as of something shattering against the hearth, and they both jumped. Then, there was once again only silence.
"You're right, you know."
"Of course I am." Lucy replied with a wink. "And what am I right about this time, Mistress?"
Kalel took Lucy's hand and, as she spoke, her green eyes were shining. "He is a handsome monster." She cringed at that admittance and shook her head. She rose again and resumed her pacing. "But he's so damn insufferable. Stalking into my home and speaking to me as if I'm only a servant. 'Our business is none of yours' indeed. Absolutely atrocious behavior! And frightening me the way that he did! Oh, Lucy, I could have fainted dead away right on the spot! He thought he was so smart, showing me what he was in such a blatant manner as to unnerve me! I felt such a fool..."
Lucy studied her for a moment, taking in the restless way her hands kneaded in her skirts and the quick rise and fall of her chest. "If I didn't know better, 'Lel, I would say that you were quite taken with him."
Kalel's mouth dropped open. She stood stunned, trying to regain her composure. "Lucy, whatever would make you think a thing such as that? Why...in all of Greater Huatha, I have never come across a man who made my blood boil so! He is...he is just so insufferable!"
"So I've heard you say at least twenty times since the sunrise." Lucy stood, readying herself to return to her duties. "In twenty rotations you have barely dared to set foot outside these walls, 'Lel. I'm certain there are many men...and monsters...beyond the borders of your father's hold who are much more 'insufferable' than this one."
"An idea that only serves to reinforce my desire never to set foot beyond those borders." Kalel snickered.
Lucy studied her for a moment before wandering off toward the stairs and the kitchens below.
Watching Lucy depart, Kalel sighed and shook her head. Why should she ever wish to venture beyond the confines of her father's lands? His was the largest hold in all of greater Huatha, encompassing everything from the Fire Mountains to the Sea of Areal. Within these borders, she had explored forests and caverns and seashores. What more could there be for one such as her? Her father's only living heir, she was expected to cling to her home lands, to care for them, to nurture them with all that she was.
And if, sometimes, that called for the use of the magick that had officially been forbidden to her, so be it. A small spell here and there, to ensure the endurance of a much needed crop or to save a dying hatchling in the Dragon Caverns near the top of Mount Adis, couldn't hurt anything, could it? In fact, those spells had more than once saved her people from a winter of starvation and the dragons from the threat of extinction.
Of course she would never speak of such things to Lucy or to anyone else, for such magick was forbidden. She had learned quickly as a child to hide the power within herself. It had been the final lesson taught her by her mother...and one she had clung to, knowing that her mother would never have bade her hide something so glorious as the feeling of magick if it had not been a necessary thing.
Her mother had known what it was like to be filled with a light that couldn't be allowed to shine. Her mother knew about the sacrifice that came with having to cloak such magnificent power. For she was filled with it herself.
Kalel had always seen it...had marveled at the failure of other people to see the brightness that seemed to radiate always from her mother's personage. Tall and lithe with hair of spun fire and eyes that sparked like emerald jewels, Anique DeMauppier McAllister had shone with an inner flame that it seemed could never be quenched. Everything she had touched had seemed to be the better for it.
It was no wonder that, without her, the grounds had fallen into disrepair and Kalel's father had fallen into a sea of grief and despair.
The light had gone out in Alliska...and Kalel had since felt powerless to bring it back.
She stood now and crossed the hall to a large window that was set deep enough in the stone for one to be able to sit in the opening. Gathering her skirts, she perched there and looked out upon the lawns and gardens that had been lush and green in her mother's time. Now, there were patches of brown and yellow and the garden plants were either overgrown or withered. It was still a lovely view, but Kalel's sharp eyes could pick out the evidence of neglect...and she felt shamed for it. If only she could unfetter the magick she held in check deep within her soul. She would have to but unleash it's power for a moment and...
"Daughter."
The word was spoken in what was not much more than a raspy harsh whisper, but it was enough to quell her thoughts and make her turn her head.
Draden McAllister had always been an imposing man. Tall and stout, he had become accustomed to the deference he had so often commanded among his fellows. His strength and size had won him many battles and made him many enemies, but it had also earned him respect. Now, looking upon him with the eyes of a loving daughter, Kalel could still see the shadow of his former self within the now wizened and pale frame. But beneath that illusion, the dark circles beneath his gray eyes, the gray peppered throughout his black beard, and the cane on which he leaned told of what he had become since the death of his beloved Anique.
"Father, how fare you this day?" She said in reply, making an effort to brighten her countenance. She stood and glided to his side, placing a hand protectively on his elbow and a kiss upon his rough cheek.
He inclined his head toward her with slow deliberation and a soft sigh of effort. Those hollow eyes shone with tenderness as he gazed upon her...and perhaps a hint of sadness. "I fare better at the sight of you, child. Your face is perhaps the one thing that could brighten this otherwise dark day." At the sight of her brows pulling together, he patted her hand. "Would you please join us in my parlor? There are things we must speak of."
"I still object to this course of action." Gareth stated almost as soon as the old man had settled back into his chair near the fire. He bent and began retrieving shards of thick glass from the stones of the hearth, placing them one by one into the ashbin. He didn't flinch when a sharp edge cut his palm. He paused, studying the swell of dark blood that rushed to the surface, before running his tongue deftly across the wound. As the sweet salty tang slid down his throat, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Gods, but it seemed as if it had been forever since his last drink. He had wished to sneak off and hunt during the journey, but the distaste of his companions at the very thought of such and his damnable manners had prevented his doing so. Yet, he had been forced to sit with them as they supped upon salted meat and crusty bread. Humans and their disgusting hungers. He would never understand it.
"Gareth, you've been saying that for a fortnight. We know your stance and, still, there is no other choice." Rhoden Cade poured herself a glass of wine from a bottle on the sideboard and dropped inelegantly into the chair opposite Kalel's father. As she drank, she watched Gareth from over the rim of her glass.
He plucked the last piece of glass from the stones and dropped it into the bin. Standing up and brushing his hands down the front of his trousers, he turned toward the girl. What a rude creature she was! Aggravating to the point of madness! And the old man had insisted that this maddening creature be included in their talks...that she would be of some use to them? Anique would have been invaluable to their mission and he mourned the loss of her, but this girl? Even with the blood of one such as Anique coursing through her veins, he'd be damned if he could see what possible use she would be with her crinolin and lace. Unless needlework were an essential element to their plans, she would be nothing but a nuisance to these proceedings. Magick in this little creature? By the gods, she couldn't even look him in the eye without flinching!
The old man coughed before he spoke. "Master Wright, I've told you that these talks will not continue without my daughter's presence. Nothing you can say will change that. You may look at her and see a delicate little flower, but there is more to her than that."
"Your Lordship, I mean no disrespect to be sure, but certainly your vision is clouded in this instance. She is a child. Of what use could this slip of a girl possibly be?"
"Gareth!" Mikal Regan pushed himself out of his seat at the far edge of the room and stepped out of the shadows. His eyes glowed like silver as the flirelight reflected from them. His teeth bared, he stepped toward his companion. "You've become too accustomed to speaking your mind without censure. Your position amongst your own people holds little bearing in this company."
Gareth seethed. "Mikal, if you don't hold your tongue, I may conveniently forget my manners. Your people and mine have never seen eye to eye on this matter or any other. It is only by my father's decree, foolish old pyre that he is, that I allow you in my presence."
"The Vampyre King holds no sway over me, Gareth of Sil." He murmured between clenched teeth. It came out as a growl, low and menacing. His peppered hair seemed to stand on end and his hands seemed to become as claws, clenching and unclenching as he advanced toward Gareth.
Rhoden Cade waved a hand in their direction and grinned at Kalel. "Do you see what I have to put up with, Miss?"
Kalel just stared. She hadn't said a word since entering the shadow filled darkness of the room.
Rhoden sighed and waved the hand again. White light seemed to shoot out from her fingertip, enveloping the two men, driving them apart. The two men visibly calmed, but the anger was still to be seen seething beneath the surface. For a moment, Gareth seemed to struggle against some unseen force before he gave in and stood with his arms at his side. "Enough of this." She uttered calmly. "The two of you are behaving like infants. If you can not partake in this conversation like gentlemen, your presence here will become useless." she sighed. "This is what comes of keeping company with werewolves and vampyres. Nothing but a nuisance." As she shifted and tucked her hair back, Kalel saw something she hadn't noticed before. Her ears. They were delicately formed, yet somehow sturdy like the rest of the woman. They curved and curled in intricate little patterns before coming to a pronounced point at the top. It was behind this point that all of her lush blond hair was now tucked.
One of the Elfin, then. Kalel had heard tales of such, but in none of those stories did these people ever leave their forest homes.
"I'm a halfling, Mistress." She grinned again as she saw the look of surprise on Kalel's face. "Don't look so shocked. That's what you were wondering, wasn't it?"
"I...well...yes. I suppose I was." Kalel stammered. She glanced toward her father. Such strange company he seemed to be keeping today.
The others had, by now, found and taken seats at opposite sides of the cavernous chamber. Kalel looked around, taking in the familiar furnishings of her father's parlor. All of the soft chairs were placed in what seemed random spots, circling the hearth and in small groupings in one corner or another. Carved tables laden with books and scrolls perched amid the groupings. Carpets were thrown haphazardly upon the cold stone floors, creating warmth and providing color. And the sideboard in the center of it all, bottles and urns lined neatly upon it. The room smelled of musk and smoke. Comforting scents...scents of her father.
"Daughter." Her father said after a time. "I would speak with you, if I may."
"Yes, father." She replied quickly, smoothing her skirts. Her wide green eyes peered at him in confusion and worry.
He nodded. "Then let us begin."
The bitter wind fluttered around her and lifted the hem of her velvet cloak as she walked down the garden path. The moonlight reflected off of the faces of scattered statues and fountains, giving them life. She watched their changing expressions as she moved past them, brushing her fingertips along the fronds and branches of plants as she went. She did not pause to notice that the flowers were reaching out to her touch...growing bright and strong at the feel of her skin.
[Do you think I don't see it within you, daughter? Do you think I never saw it within your mother?]
Her father had known. He had always known.
The smell of roses surrounded her and filled her senses. She reached out and stroked the petals of a nearby bloom, rubbing it gently between her thumb and finger. Curled brown edges healed and the bud opened fully to reveal the bright sunshine center, illuminated by the light of the moons. The fragrance intensified and she breathed it in, filling her lungs with the scent of life. She smiled.
"The gardens are lovely tonight, Mistress."
It was Rhoden Cade. She slid silently onto the bench beside Kalel and leaned forward, bracing herself on the hilt of her sword and seeming to study her own feet. Kalel's smile faded.
[I loved her in spite of it...maybe because of it, Kalel. Your mother was like a beacon in a sea of darkness and from the first moment I saw you, a babe in her arms, I knew that you were too. But I didn't know what to say to it...to your mother...to you. I let your mother hold onto her secrets because I wanted to hold onto what the gods had granted me. I feared the loss of it. Forgive me.]
Rhoden turned to her, studied her profile. Of one thing, Gareth had the right of it. This was but a slip of a girl, all freckled cheeks and button nose, long soft lashes tipped in gold. This child knew little of what went on outside the gates of her father's keep...and didn't seem to care one way or the other.
A hand reached out to touch Kalel's arm, a quick press of flesh on cloth. And Kalel raised her head to Rhoden Cade. "What is it that you want from me, Miss? Do you wish me to gleefully leave my home behind and join your little alliance? That seems to be my father's wish."
[They've come seeking your mother, Kalel. News of her death seems not to have reached Sil or Keth. They thought to ally her to their cause., but, alas, you are all I have now to offer.]
"Kalel, I know that this is difficult for you..."
"Difficult?" She pulled her hand away, sneering in disgust. In a voice filled with contempt, she spoke. "Miss Cade, I do assure you that difficult is quite an understatement. To awaken one morning and find that the mother I've mourned in my heart these years was in league with vampyres? With werewolves?"
"In league? Miss Kalel...I..." Rhoden Cade sighed heavily. "From all I've heard of your mother she was a fair and kindly woman. Her deeds are well known amongst my people. Why, my father used to tell stories of her as he tucked me into bed at night. Where even faerie magick failed, your mother's triumphed. Are you so quick to soil her memory?"
"As my grandfather used to tell me tales of vampyres roaming the night to prey on helpless children? Of werewolves slaying entire households over a bit of lamb? Of the fierce territorialistic nature of your people as they killed any man who dared to enter their forests? Many tales are told, Miss Cade. Some of them are truer than others."
"It seems I was told tales to uplift my spirit and give me hope, Kalel, and you were told tales to make you fear that which abided by night. Perhaps the reasons for both were the same, and I won't deny the truths behind your grandfather's stories, but that doesn't make our situation any less dire. Sometimes the evil that you see is less of a menace than the evil you do not."
"Leave me, Rhoden Cade. Leave me to my own musings. Perhaps I will do as my father wishes, for I owe him that much, I suppose. But your words will not sway me."
Rhoden Cade watched her for a moment before rising. "Your father was right. There is more to you than the delicate slip of a girl I see before me. We shall see, I suppose, what's to come of it."
After she'd gone, Kalel stood and began to travel from one rosebud to another, touching them each with her gentle hand, watching as they unfurled to her, breathing in their scent.
As a child, her mother would bring her out here to play, and while she played, her mother was busy at work touching the plants the way Kalel touched them now, talking to them, singing to them. As Kalel grew, her curiosity led to her mother's explanations. Anique spoke of the spirit that resided in each plant, a soul like any other that needed nurturing, a language that few men could speak, subtle words that would send those souls soaring until the beauty of it all burst forth in glorious color and scent. Kalel was an avid pupil. Running from one bit of vegetation to another, asking again and again what they were saying. She could hear it...could almost feel it in her bones. Her mother would throw back her head and laugh, her long gleaming curls brushing against the ground, causing the blades of grass to shiver with delight, and she would tell Kilel that she had only to listen. That all things have a voice if you but listen closely enough...the plants, the animals, the water...
And Kalel learned.
The day that her mother took her by the hand and led her into the caverns beneath the mountain, Kalel had blandished in fear. Grandfather had told her tales of the creatures that lived in these caves, tales of the death that befell those who dared enter the dank chill of the caverns. For this was the home of the dragons, always the enemy of man, captor of maidens and slayer of knights.
Her first thought as she gazed upon the creatures that lived within this darkness was My stars...how beautiful!
The three animals seemed to glow and glitter in the light of her mother's lantern. These creatures, so feared before, now looked on her with gentle eyes. Anique took her hand and placed it on the flank of a large female and Kalel felt the smooth texture of the scales as they lay over one another. She marveled at how like feathers they were as her mother whispered to her that she should always brush the scales in this direction and never the other, as they were delicate and might crack or break.
"Do you notice anything different about this one than the others, 'Lel?" Her mother murmured against her cheek as they ran their hands along the creature's side.
Ten year old Kalel was so engrossed in the animal that she didn't turn to her mother when she spoke. "She is fatter than the others, Mama."
Laughter, soft as bells, rang out. "Yes, dear. This is true. She is with child, 'Lel. Old S'Jenn is going to be a mother."
Kalel was enthralled. Her grin spread across her freckled face and her eyes widened. "Like you, Mama!" She cried.
A sound issued forth from the dragons then. A low, throaty growl which could only be taken for mirth. Kalel's smile widened and she lay her cheek upon the side of the dragon her mother had called S'Jenn.
Very faintly, as if from far away, she could hear two heartbeats.
If what her father had asked of her came to pass, she would leave this place soon. She would ride out of her homeland, past these gardens, past the rivers that wound through the woods, past the Dragon Caverns where she so loved to spend her lazy afternoons.
If it's to be so, she thought, then let me choose my steed.
Kalel took a deep breath and called out a name into the starlit night.
