The White Forest (Mages and Kingdoms Book 2) (2 page)

Amelie

Moonstone was dried silver
root leaves ground finely into dust and mixed with the secretions of the century beetle. Amelie had learned this secret soon after coming to the White Forest.

Henna had fished one out of a nearby tree and held up the dark brown spectacle, nearly as large as her hand. "They mate but once a year," Henna explained replacing the creature back gingerly into the tree hollow. "The secretions I use are actually the eggs from the female before they are fully formed. My window is short and these beetles are scarce. Which is why I have so little of the tonic. But you don’t need much to wield its effectiveness. A few sips. Never drink large amounts."

They turned to head back to the cabin. The tree was a mere twenty paces from the dwelling but Amelie had only just begun moving around outdoors. Her full strength had not yet returned.

"I realized the beetle's potential when I found I could read it," Henna continued. "They are future-seeing. They know the weather coming. They find their mate before their physical senses can detect them. They know their own demise while they are still in the height of health. It is strange to get these perceptions from these bugs and I do not know of another reader who has mentioned it."

"There are many things I find strange in this land," Amelie replied. "Your reading the magic of beetles does not impress."

Henna laughed from deep within her throat. "No, I suppose plucking you down in the middle of a world of mages has diluted your impressionability." The old woman's expression sobered. "Moonstone is my own creation, born of my strong reading ability and my naïve curiosity. I worked at night in the back of the palace behind the garden shed. I hesitated to light my work with a torch as my mind already knew I tinkered with something dangerous. I pounded it with a stone by the light of the moon alone and thus named it so."

She placed a weathered hand on Amelie's arm and turned to face her fully. "Amelie," she spoke. "I used my creation to help Seth. Being half human, his resistance would have been weak by mage standards and I could make it strong. Her highness, Princess Elmeda, wished it for his safety. I promise you, I would not have used it to enhance your power under my own free will."

Amelie's eyes narrowed. "But you did. My mother said you used it for me."

"Aye, Princess. I did." Henna's smile was wan and not the burst of pleasantry Amelie had grown accustomed to. "To be blunt, I do not seek only men to share my bed. The persuasive power your mother held while pregnant with you had its sway with me. I did as she bade while believing myself to be in love with her."

Amelie pursed her lips in sympathy. "My mother had many faults," she said gravely, still sore from missing her but recognizing the wrong of it.

"Your mother was much like my son. She worked for something good in the wrong ways."

The sound of chopping wood met Amelie's ears and she saw Simon and Serena working together to build back up the store of firewood. Serena with a flick of her hand positioned the wood and Simon brought an axe down, splitting in two.

A smile stretched across Serena's face. "You have nothing to prove. I could split this wood with a single thought. You needn't sweat."

Simon grinned, wiping his brow in between swings. "Let me be a man, sister," he commanded playfully. "I like the feel of the wood separating under my strength. It's a chore I don't mind."

All smiles and playfulness fled from Serena's face as she realized Amelie and Henna had returned.

"Then pick it up yourself, too," she told Simon brusquely before retrieving a pail of water and carrying it inside. Simon waved at the women and shook his head as they drew closer.

"Pay her no mind," he said of Serena's hasty departure. "She is slow to trust new people. She'll come around. She's very protective of what we're trying to accomplish here."

Here
was the cabin situated on the edge of the White Forest where Henna, Simon, and Serena housed hidden mage children. Five children in all and growing in number, Amelie had learned of their existence the first day she arrived in the forest.

Amelie didn’t know what to expect as she followed Simon into the forest that day, tired, starved, and depressed beyond measure for all she had lost.

She remembered the brilliant white of the powdered snow, but none of the chill that should have come with it.

“I didn’t feel cold,” she remembered telling the man who met her in the cave.

“Only humans feel the chill,” he’d answered. “We are not done traveling yet. Come with me.”

He took her hand and whispered again that same enchanting whisper that tingled the hairs on her neck. Brilliant gold haze surrounded him as he spoke furiously. Amelie desperately wanted to know what was being said, but she could see the concentration on his face. Whatever he was doing, it was taking much effort. She kept her lips still.

Though they had stopped walking, the air around them changed. When he finished his chant, the haze cleared and they were once again in the cave. But Amelie could feel the change. A glance out of the mouth of the cave revealed that the powdered snow was gone. There were animal sounds – birds and bullfrogs and a dog barking in the distance.

The man’s hand felt cold in hers.

“You expended a lot of magic,” she said, remembering what Rankor taught her. Her head swam with the effort to remain standing. The strain of the last several days pulled at her. He cocked his head at her observation.

“Yes,” he told her. “We’re in another realm. One where she can’t detect us.”

"She?"

"The White Queen."

"I see."

And then Amelie sagged against Simon and he hooked his arm underneath her knees and drew her head to his chest. "Come," he had said as if she had free will over her now useless legs. "I'll take you to Henna. She waits for us."

Simon was an easy natured man, reminding Amelie of Talon in personality only. The two were vastly different in physical form. Talon's hair was straw colored while Simon's was on fire with strong red tints. Talon had dark eyes and Simon's were a lighter brown. And though Simon was seven years Talon's senior, he had a youthful appearance that age didn't touch. His eyes didn't wrinkle, his skin was cream white and smooth.  But both men were kind, quick to issue a joke, and carried a deep concern for others' well-being.

Simon was a royal gatekeeper. The magic the White Queen used to hide the White Forest from humans existed on the strength of her gatekeepers. These mages had the power to move in and out of different realms. Thanks to Simon’s endless patience to her curiosity, Amelie was aware of three fundamental ones.

"The earthly realm is where we reside," Simon had told her soon after she had awoken in a warm room, littered with animal pelt rugs on the floor and jars of herbs in the windows. She had been in and out of consciousness for a few days but now had the strength to begin badgering him with questions. A week's worth of Henna's soups with stocks from fish and deer and brimming with forest foliage had restored the days of hunger she'd suffered in Rankor's makeshift camp. "Tangible life dwells here. There is also the realm beyond, a land of spirits. Where we met was the middle realm."

"What is that?" Amelie was enraptured.

"It's a decision. Spirits who are strong enough can decide to return to the earthly realm. Spirits who have given up or do not possess the strength are carried into the realm beyond. Sometimes death is so forcefully dealt that one passes with hardly a pause through the middle realm and is robbed of the chance to try." He paused uncertainly. “You were one of those rushing by, Amelie. Your mother grabbed hold of your soul. It was that sudden yank that pulled me unexpectedly into the middle realm. Jarring actions like that can pull a mage against his will.”

Amelie felt a stab of sorrow at his recollection. She chose to push on with another question for fear she may start crying if she lingered at the memory. "And you can go to these realms?"

"Aye. I can. We do, the gatekeepers and I. We have the power to pull from the middle realm to create pockets of realms within the earthly one. The first generation of gatekeepers pooled their power to create the White Forest. The current gatekeepers uphold it."

"And decide who gets in and who doesn't," Amelie finished.

Simon nodded. "Mages can leave, but not without the gatekeepers feeling it. And they can't get back in unless one of us answers their chant."

"The odd whispers," Amelie said, remembering the voices on the wind she heard as she ran towards the forest.

"Yes. The entrance chant creates the gateway. The gatekeepers open it. With you, I had to quickly create a gateway because you weren't creating your own. Gatekeepers just move between realms. It's their power. They don't need an opening. And almost all mages know the basic chant. We learn it in school as kids. So it'd been a long time since I've had to actually utter the words. You very nearly ran into a boulder or tree. And you were
fast.
"

Amelie pursed her lips. "It felt fast. I'd never felt anything like it before, not even on a horse."

"Henna said you wouldn't know much about being a mage. I found it hard to believe her. I see now."

Amelie flushed. She was even more embarrassed that the little she did know came not from her mother or even Sir Duncan, but from a man who tried to suck her dry and kill her.

"Well, that's why I'm here," Amelie said, sitting up a little straighter and feeling determined.

"That's not why you're here." The added voice made Amelie and Simon turn. Walking into the room was the pleasantly plump woman whose smiling eyes Amelie found comfort in. She remembered in her delirious state the feel of Henna's hands and the hiss of Henna's breath as she fought to bring Amelie back to health. "Well, not entirely anyway. Yes, living among mages will help you learn about the piece of you that you've despised. Perhaps you will despise it a little less once you do. But you are here-" Henna waved around at the cabin. "-in this realm because you have a good heart and a helpful power. Two things this kingdom desperately needs."

Amelie's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Henna used the handle of the rocking chair near the fire hearth to aid her body in a slow descent. She seemed tired and worn from the day. She heaved a sigh once settled. "I see the look," Henna said, dusting off her skirts. "When I say here..." Henna trailed off and then glanced at Simon. Simon immediately picked up on his cue and turned to Amelie.

"What she means is we are in the White Forest, but not exactly. This pocket of woods, this cabin, the stream behind the house, it's all contained in a realm I created."

"Another realm?" Amelie was amazed.

Simon nodded, a hint of pride evident on his face. "Yes. I created it on my own. The other gatekeepers don't know about it. It keeps this place hidden. With Henna's moonstone, I was able to concentrate my magic."

It was Amelie's darkening face at the reference to moonstone which bade Henna to declare rest for her charge with promises to answer more questions at a later time. The later time came in the form of the short walk to oak tree and the examination of century beetles.

Amelie stood in front of Simon now, smiling to alleviate his worry that Serena had offended her.

"I understand her hesitation," she assured him. "I am also slow to trust and would probably have been much less tolerable if the roles were switched."

It was true that these mages trusted her with their very lives. And five mage children. A thought reader, a truth seeker, a dream weaver, a memory keeper, and Amelie was surprised to learn, a persuader. All death sentences at the hands of the Royal Readers. All seeking refuge in Simon's created world away from the detection of her Majesty. Amelie understood the gravity of their trust and knew she would never do anything to betray it.

Seth

Everyday was much the
same. Down the stone hallways flecked with low hanging maroon and gold tapestries. Out the side oak door. Down the steps that were guarded with marble lions, one chipped into a regal sitting position, the other immortalized in a crouch.  His feet met crunching gravel which winded towards the gardens or to the stables depending on which way one turned.

Walking the path soothed the dark haired prince. From his room to the Candor palace stables, he walked this route each morning. From there he saddled and mounted the largest horse, a white creature named Swift. The stable boy no longer attempted to ready the horse as he too now knew the routine. A cursory glance was all that was afforded, if even that. Swift was missing from his stall each day and it no longer alarmed any of the servants.

Prince Seth's morning ride took him to the perimeters of the palace grounds, well into the forest where he spent the better part of the morning crouched over small streams or inspecting wildlife, trying to use his eyes as Talon or Amelie would to spot healing secrets in the greenery.

It was a mindless activity, one he could do without a care, for the outcome wasn't to discover a new remedy. Unless there was a deep magic in these plants that could kill the pain in between heartbeats then there was nothing of use to him.

Each afternoon after he returned Swift to his stall and made the return trip to his quarters, somewhere along the way he would be met by Princess Claudia. She always offered a small smile and a gentle touch as she asked him the same question each day, "Will you take your supper in the dining hall this evening?" to which he always replied, "I think it would be best to retire to my quarters."

The weeks turned into months and this was the way it went. It gave his mind some peace, this half existence. One day as he strode down the empty hallway, she appeared and smiled her small smile and Seth slowed his gait. He looked into her eyes, an act so rarely done he hadn't realized it until he found himself looking into her gaze. She started at this and hope shone back at him. It mirrored Amelie's expression so much so that he nearly stumbled. She asked her question. "Will you take your supper in the dining hall this evening?"

"I..." He paused in their routine, considering. How patient she was. To seek him out each day. The thought occurred to him that there had to be numerous times when she had to stop what she was doing as she minded the hour of his return to offer this daily concern. His eyes closed in guilt. Amelie would not leave his heart. "I think it would be best to retire to my quarters."

When he opened his eyes again, Princess Claudia's expression was a smile of sad acceptance. She lightly touched his arm. "Of course," she said before picking up her skirt and walking back the way she came.

His routine no longer gave him peace.

He began to spend his days as he did in the early weeks after the small party returned with the deceased queen and the devastating news. He stopped going to the stables each morning. Hair carpeted his face. He invited darkness into his room with closed, heavy curtains and lone candles flickering at night. His mind would not allow two moments together of rest.

At first, Talon gave Seth the Devil’s Mint when he saw the deep sadness return. Dried and ground down finely with a pestle, he meant to dissolve it in water but Seth powdered his tongue with it and washed it down with a goblet of wine. Talon winced, knowing the combination would double the herb’s effect. It was meant to numb his mind, to chase away the melancholy, to give Seth a brief, herbal-induced reprieve from the constant ache in his features.

Seth felt the effect run through him and he welcomed it. It was a hollow rendition of peace but it was enough to take off the edge of her loss. He went from staring out over the Candorian forests from his balcony in a painful stupor to staring out over the forests in a numbed version of it.

When he asked for it again the next day, Talon relented but by the third day he was given a determined, “No.”

Seth threw a wild punch which not only missed Talon’s face but sent him sharply onto the bed. Talon placed a firm hand on his shoulder, holding him down.

“It is not meant to be taken at all, much less daily,” Talon reprimanded in a concerned voice. “It is the bane of addicts who soon choose the herb over living. It’s no life at all.”

“I cannot survive this,” Seth said quietly into the sheets. Oh, how he longed for the numbing powder.

“You can, my friend. You will.”

But the pain did not relent and Seth did not see an end to it. He soon took to stealing into Talon’s quarters to locate the drug for himself. After a few false tries, one which kept him no more than two feet from the chamber pot for the better part of a day, he at last found the stash. He was able to hide it for the next several days until one afternoon, Talon came bursting into his quarters without his usual tentative knock.

“My Devil’s Mint is half gone,” he accused.

With the effects of the drug still coursing through his veins, Seth did no more than cast his archer an uninterested glance. Furious, Talon banged out of the room. Seth thought that was the end of it until the next morning when Derrick barged in, picked Seth up by the collar and threw him in a waiting bath.

“Princess Claudia expects your presence at dinner,” he said in a growling voice that had never before come from the gentle man. “You smell. You have an hour to be presentable.”

Seth looked about him, mildly startled to be in the lukewarm bath water completely clothed.

“I feel it is now necessary to point out,” Derrick continued in a softer tone. “That Princess Claudia lost her not only sister whom she’s known all her life but her entire family in one swoop and still manages not only to bathe daily but run this kingdom.” And he clicked the door shut. And Seth cried.

*                            *                            *

Dinner was a two person affair. Princess Claudia had dismissed the rest of the cabinet and assembled a more intimate setting for the two of them. Seth managed to clean and dress himself and though he looked more like himself on the outside, inside he was ravaged with despair as the Devil’s Mint evaporated and took with it the mask it provided.

Seth bent and kissed the princess lightly on the cheek. “Good evening,” he said. He couldn’t attempt a polite smile but it was no matter as she nodded at the gesture and motioned for him to take a seat.

“We are both broken at the recent events,” she said quietly. “If anyone understands your pain, it is I.”

Seth pushed aside part of his pain to feel the guilt at her words. “No, princess, your loss is unfathomable and I shall try to do what I can from this point on to help you weather it. I apologize for my recent behavior and I will get a better grip on my feelings.”

He eyed the dinner as the servants laid out more than the two of them could ever eat. Roasted pheasant, pureed squash, fried lentils, a berry compote, and buttery wheat rolls. He accepted the smallest portions as politeness allowed knowing he could barely choke even that down.

“How is your father?” he implored to stall attempting a bite and show some interest in her plight. How selfish he had been these past months.

Her eyes darkened. “He still lies unconscious. The doctors fear he may never recover.”

“I’m sorry.”

She drew in a shaky breath. “I did not mean to discuss this until after dinner, but since we’re on the subject…Prince Seth, Candor finds itself in a precarious situation. The king is not able to rule. We have lost all of our immediate royalty save me and right before these tragedies, I have been most unexpectedly aligned with your kingdom, breaking a two hundred year standing treaty.”

Seth nodded in understanding. “It has been difficult for you these last months, I imagine.” He winced at his words, wishing he’d been next to her this whole time and able to speak them with more meaning rather than simply imagining her struggle. What Amelie would have thought of him, abandoning her sister that way.

“Indeed. More than difficult. The royal cabinet is restless. There are no other immediate heirs and tension is mounting between them. If I do not act quickly, it is feared they may divide. My station is at risk as well as a civil war within my kingdom."

Seth closed his eyes. War. The very thing Amelie had been trying to avoid.

"How can I help?" he asked sincerely.

Princess Claudia rested both of her hands on the table. He'd seen this before. She often steadied her limbs before broaching sensitive subjects. "We must hasten the marriage. I must have Draeden's full support if this is to work. If I am to salvage my kingdom."

Prince Seth chose his next words carefully. "Princess..." He paused. "Claudia," he revised, addressing her more intimately. "I will do what you ask. But only with the full extent of the truth exposed so that you may be free to make your decision." He summoned his courage with a deep breath, for he did not wish to add to her woes. "I was...and I fear I may always be, deeply in love with your sister. It is my love for Amelie which stirs my desire to aid you and Candor in any way I can. Her devotion to her kingdom and her attachment to you is what I wish to continue for her sake. I will always be honest. Respectful. And from this moment on your needs will come first. I don't know if this is enough to make a fine husband, but it is honestly what I can offer you."

Princess Claudia's expression was strained but her look remained thoughtful. She took up both his hands in hers, clasping them upon the dinner table. "It is not what one would hope for in a love match," she admitted. "But I always knew my marriage would not be so. No, perhaps it's not the best situation I could have imagined for myself in a husband, but Candor could receive no finer a king."

Her dark eyes shone. Her raven hair glinted in the candlelight. For a moment she embodied her sister's features so keenly, Seth's heart reeled. He steadied it with measured breaths. "Perhaps in time..."

Princess Claudia gave a watery smile. "Perhaps."