Love and Tenacity

Chapter 9

That night, after a long day of healing with Ember and learning to do things like ride a horse and read a letter without aid, Quinn had a dream.

She was standing on the beach below the Castle at Mulciber, looking out on the familiar sun and waves. She had always loved and feared the water; loved it for its beauty and the soothing sound of waves, feared it because of the hidden power that rippled beneath the surface. She tilted her head back and let the cool wind push its way through her loose hair, and as she did so she spotted two figures walking towards her.

It took her a moment to recognize her father. She hadn’t seen his face in so long, and she hadn’t pictured him smiling in years and years. His face was alight with joy and wonder as he gazed down at the little girl beside him. It was Quinn, the little Princess Annabelle, aged only six or seven. She was tiny and energetic, running through the waves as the washed up on the shore, screaming with delight while her loose white dress became more and more soaked. The elder Quinn smiled as she remembered the feeling of waves breaking over her knees while her father’s laughed boomed from behind her.

“Never turn your back on the ocean!” he called as he watched his little girl nearly lose her footing. His eyes were happy. Quinn couldn’t help but feel some of the resentment float away as she witnessed his joy at simply being in the presence of her younger self.

As she silently watched her happy memory play out, another figure presented itself in the corner of her eye. She turned and saw another silent observer standing on a cliff several yards above the beach. It took her a long time to recognize him, but she finally realized that it was another version of her father. This one looked twenty years older than the one in the beach. His face was grey and lined with exhaustion, and his eyes had purple bags hanging underneath them. He had lost weight as well; the muscle that once made him seem so larger than life had melted away, leaving pronounced bones in its wake. She reasoned that this must be the way her father looked shortly before his death.

He stood silently, watching her memory play out below him. His face was bitter and wistful and so heartbreakingly agonized that Quinn felt tears prick the corner of her eyes. She tried to remind herself of what he had let happen to her people, that he represented corruption and dishonesty, but all she could see in front of her was a sad old man who longed for the days when he could hear his daughter’s laugh whenever he desired. He stretched an arm out to the scene on the beach, but as he did so, little Annabelle and her young father faded away.

The scene melted away and swirled around Quinn, finally settling on her father’s dimly lit chambers. He lay in his massive bed, suffering and alone. The bags under his eyes were even more pronounced, and his face was completely devoid of color. He looked barely alive, and Quinn knew without question that this was how he looked right after she had stormed out of his rooms with the knowledge that she would not inherit the crown. She had never seen such a defeated looking picture in her entire life. As she slowly approached the bed, he let out a shuddering sob and covered his face with his hands. Tear were running down Quinn’s face in earnest now, and she slowly reached out to take his hand and pull it away from his face, to make him look at her so she could say that she still loved him and would always love him. But right before her fingertips brushed his hand, she heard the sound of cannons and the floor crumbled beneath the bed, pulling him away from her…

Quinn bolted upright, hand outstretched, gasping for breath. Her heart was pounding audibly in her chest as she frantically looked around, taking in the sight of the darkened room and Desiree asleep on the couch across from her. She waited for her heartbeat to slow, but it seemed to grow quicker and quicker as pressure built up behind her throat. Without thinking, she silently left the couch and snuck out of the cottage, shutting the door securely behind her with as much stealth as she could muster.

Once free of the confines of the four walls, Quinn took off and ran into the forest beside the bungalow, feeling her heart still racing. She found herself on the path she had taken with Ember earlier that day and followed it, feet flying as she ran with a reckless abandon that she hadn’t felt in years. She didn’t think for a moment about her safety or how worried Desiree would be if she woke up and Quinn was gone. The only thing in her mind was the crystal clear image of her father’s face as he was pulled away from her.

Finally, she found herself at the circular rock by the river. The air was peaceful and the water level was low. Quinn remembered the storm that Desiree had said she’d seen rolling in off the coast only two nights ago and realized that they had outrun it in their desperate escape. She collapsed onto the rock, pulling her knees up to her chest and finally sobbing as the memories coalesced around her.

Her body shuddered as she relived the dream once more. She had thought she hated her father, but at that moment, she yearned for nothing more than his embrace. She hadn’t told him that she loved him in years, and now she never would again.

Yet how could she love a man who had caused so much death? She had told herself that it was his fault her people lived in fear, and for that reason she wanted to be glad of his death. But he was her father, and he had loved her! There had been a time when she had been the most important thing in his world and he the most important thing in hers. When had he decided that family meant nothing to him? When had she done the same?

The sobs continued for nearly an hour before Quinn felt her eyes dry up and her cries turn to hiccups. She felt the calmness descend that always comes after a person has cried long and hard. For the first time, she came back to herself and took a good look around. It appeared that no one had followed her, thank the Gods – she wouldn’t put it past Juvenis or Desiree to trust her outside on her own. She turned her attention to the river flowing by and basked in its beauty as the moonlight shined down on the surface of the water.

She lay back on the stone and stared at the sky, mesmerized by the size of it. The stars were out; another thing that she hadn’t realized she had missed. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply and steadily, trying to absorb the energy of the rock below her as Ember had taught her. It took nearly half an hour, but after a while, she felt the vague sense of heaviness and warmth that came when Ember helped her meditate. The ground below her steadied her as a soft breeze blew over her face. It was a chilly night, but she didn’t feel cold. The sky was a blanket, her hair a pillow, and the trees around her were guardians watching over her.

The calm was bone-deep now, and her heart felt like it was barely beating. She thought once again of her father, but this time she felt no anger or resentment, only resignation. She could never forgive him for what he had let happen, but perhaps she could allow herself to treasure the memories of the man he once was without feeling guilty. She had never had a mother; the least she deserved was the memory of once having a good father.

Quinn remained on the rock for another several minutes and then, feeling an internal peace that she hadn’t felt in a decade, made her way back to the cabin. She felt as though she was walking through a dream, and a small part of her thought that the trees were bowing to her as they did to Ember. The plants seemed to whisper to one another as she walked by. Her hair was in a chaotic disarray, her eyes were dry and red from crying, her arms and legs were scratched up from sprinting through the forest, and all she wore was a loose white slip that Ember had leant her, but she had never felt more like a Queen.

The next morning, Ember continued her work on Quinn’s eyes. If she had any idea of Quinn’s experience the night before or wondered at the cause of her new demeanor, she said nothing of it. As they sat on the rock, Quinn felt her mind brushing with Ember’s cool, bright consciousness. The witch gave off a sense of endless power, and it reverberated through Quinn’s skull. Her eyes felt at once warm and cold, just like the day before, and she felt that Ember was putting more energy into them than the last healing. She felt privileged and protected.

“Alright,” Ember said, sitting back. “Let’s see what you see.” Quinn opened her eyes.

Everything was so clear! She had thought that her vision was close to fully restored the day before, but she now realized that Ember had taken her perception to another level entirely. The forest was sharp and almost painfully bright, even the particles of pollen in morning sunshine stark to her eyes. She turned to Ember and saw her for the first time. Ember looked like her voice. She was beautiful, not necessarily traditionally, but in a charismatic way. Her eyes, those freaky green eyes that little Princess Annabelle had seen when she was eight, positively glowed. Her face, though long and weathered, was open and friendly, and she grinned widely when she saw the wonder in Quinn’s eyes. That’s when Quinn noticed the dark circles under Ember’s eyes, and how she seemed to be holding herself stiffly. A brief flash of concern sparked in her mind, but it faded immediately as the wonder of clear vision after so long in the dark took over again. “Let’s go back and find the others,” was all Ember said, and she led an awestruck Quinn back down the now familiar path.

When they got back to the bungalow’s clearing, they saw Ella wrestling with Juvenis in front of a reluctantly fascinated Desiree. As the two sparred, Quinn took in all of the details that had been invisible to her before. Juvenis’ skin was coppery, lighter than she had thought, and her body was lean and athletic to the point of being boyish. It was offset by her face, which was angular and rather striking. As she easily blocked the quick strikes of the tiny blonde, a small, crooked grin appeared on her face. She was striking when she smiled.

Ella was a little blonde whirlwind, her cropped hair flying around a young, heart-shaped face as she laughed and futilely tried to get in a single hit. She still had the scrawny look of a young girl who hadn’t yet grown into a woman.

And finally, she laid eyes on her best friend and most loyal follower. When she had last seen Desiree, the girl had been petite and improbably thin, big blue eyes peering out from a face obscured by wild red curls. Now, though still decidedly shorter than average, she had filled out and matured. She was curvy and womanly, and her face was bright and confident. Quinn wondered whether that happy, self-assured look came more from age or from their new sanctuary away from Mulciber. Desiree glanced up at Quinn, and when the former princess looked straight into her dark blue eyes and smiled, she got up and went to embrace her friend. Quinn buried her face in the now orange-blonde curls and felt tears leaking out of her eyes once more. Finally, she was on even footing with those around her. Finally, she could lead her people confidently and independently. She vowed to herself that she would never again be completely dependent on another person, especially not Desiree. She could have had no better caretaker than her maid, but Desiree had lost her childhood while making sure that Quinn’s was happy.

They broke apart to see Ella try to tackle a distracted Juvenis only to be thrown to the ground and pinned.

“You’re getting quicker,” remarked Juvenis as she helped Ella up. Ella smiled proudly. “Soon I might have to break a sweat to beat you.” The smile dropped.

“It’s all that gypsy blood in you, Juvy,” said Ember, pulling her hair up behind her and securing it with a black ribbon. “There’s something magical about your race, I swear. Normal people don’t move that fast, nor can they go so long without tiring. Maybe you’re descended from witches.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re making excuses as to why you still can’t shoot better than me,” replied Juvenis, oddly cheerful.

“Good thing you know better. Now, Quinn, get over here. I’m going to teach you how to tear someone’s shoulder apart.” Quinn swallowed nervously and exchanged worried looks with Desiree.

For the next few hours, Ember and Juvenis drilled Desiree and Quinn on basic and not-so-basic self-defense. They went over how to escape if someone grabbed them, what to do if someone attacked them with various different types of punches and kicks, and how to get people into painful joint locks with leverage instead of force. Working so close to Juvenis was unnerving at first, but she wound up being a very capable teacher. Ella was used as a victim over and over again, but she seemed elated by all of the attention from her two idols. Quinn was reminded of herself when she was in her early teens and starved for attention from her father. She’d always sought the slightest praise from any of her teachers, feeling high from satisfaction for days whenever any of them complimented her. She saw that same desire to please in Ella’s eyes.

They broke for lunch, and had barely finished eating when Ella’s brother Seamus turned up. His hair was the same shade of blonde as his sister’s, and he was also quite lean, but where Ella was Desiree’s size, Seamus towered over them both and was two or three inches taller than even Quinn and Ember. Upon closer inspection, Quinn also found that while Ella’s eyes were brown, Seamus’ were hazel.

Seamus obviously didn’t quite know how to handle himself around Quinn. He started to bow, but decided against it at the last second and shook her hand instead.

“Seamus Harding at your service, Princess Annabelle,” he said with a wide, toothy grin. His hair swung down over his forehead and hung in his eyes, making him appear younger than his actual age of twenty three.

“It’s Quinn now,” she replied, grasping his hand firmly. “Subtlety and all that. It’s good to meet you Seamus; now, have you found us a horse?”

His eyes lit up in response. “You know, I think I have! There’s a farmer I know on the very edge of Levamen, and he’s got this horse that he haggled off a highwayman for a bargain. Not sure what breed – part thoroughbred though, I can tell you that for sure- but a heart of gold, and a gelding too, which’ll be better than a mare for any kind of long journey since mares get tetchy from time to time, and you don’t need moodiness from a horse when you’re far from home…”

He rambled on for some minutes about this horse, and Quinn smiled to herself as he quickly forgot the status of who he was talking to and became totally involved in the matter of what the perfect horse for her would be. He was sweet, if a bit oblivious, and she was happy to let him chatter on. She saw Juvenis shoot Ember an exasperated look, and the white-haired woman promptly clapped both of them on the back and steered them toward the barn. “Alright! He sounds great Seamus, give me a price and we’ll snatch him up soon. Now, for this horse’s feet…”

As Ember and Seamus talked shop about whether or not to shoe Jack, Quinn slipped away and joined back up with Desiree.

“I think we need to rename Jack,” she said. Desiree raised an eyebrow.

“What, Jack’s not quite heroic enough for our current mission?”

“Desiree, I named him that when I was thirteen. The poor horse deserves a real name, something fit for how loyal he’s been. Besides, I have a new name; why can’t he?”

“…How ‘bout Alfred?”

“Be serious.”

“How about Jal?” said a voice from right behind them. Desiree cursed and Quinn flinched violently as Juvenis seemed to appear out of nowhere. Quinn guessed that that was not uncommon and resigned herself to the fact that Juvenis remained the only person in the world who could sneak up on her.

“Jal?” questioned Desiree, looking skeptical.

Juvenis shrugged. “It’s a gypsy name,” she supplied. “It means ‘wanderer’.”
Quinn considered it for a moment. “Jal,” she tested, letting the L roll off her tongue. “I actually like that. It’s an uncommon name for an uncommon horse. I think we should keep it.” She looked to Desiree, who seemed to be struggling with liking something that Juvenis had suggested. Clearly the previous night’s story time had done little to make Desiree warm up to the woman.

“Alright,” she agreed finally. “Jal it is. Too short though, if you ask me. Horse names should be longer than that. Hardly better than ‘Jack’ in my opinion…”

Juvenis just smiled complacently and wandered off into the barn.

Quinn watched her go and then turned back to Desiree, still slightly taken aback by how much her friend had changed in the last ten years. “I think we should go into town tonight and start digging around for news of Caleb Meyer. It’ll be good to get a start on tracking him down, and we can see how the people are responding to their new king.”

“They’re heartbroken,” piped up Ella, who had been watching the name discussion in fascinated silence. “They’ve been told that Princess Annabelle is dead, and I think it’s shattered their spirits. They loved you, you know. Everyone thought that when you came to power, things would be different. Even some of the rougher men were happy to see an unmarried young woman on the throne if it meant peace and safety for their families. These raids are tearing us apart.”

Ella’s young face grew solemn as she spoke, and Quinn’s heart was heavy at the state of her country. “I’ll do everything I can for Artemae, Ella, I promise,” she said with resolve. “Even if I die in the process, the people will know that there was someone fighting for them. I can’t bear to see a nation of people like you and Seamus hurt while I run away.”

“Then I’m helping you,” Ella replied, lifting her chin. “I may be young, but if there’s anything I can possibly do, I’ll do it, even if it’s just spying. You’ll never be able to find Jude Meyer without me – you’re too recognizable even when you’re trying to get rid of your old accent, Desiree’s old enough that not enough people will let down their guard around her, most people know Ember on sight and are afraid to talk to her because they think she’ll curse them or something, and Juvenis is downright too frightening to get people to open up to her. You need someone who can go about unnoticed, and that’s me.”

Quinn had to concede that what Ella said was true. They needed as much help as they could get to corner Jude; without him, all of the bounty hunters would be against them, and they had no idea if the watchers even responded to a central authority figure anymore, let alone whether or not they’d be willing to conspire against the King. She was mildly surprised that Ella had picked up on her speech patterns changing, for she had in fact been allowing herself to talk more like a peasant and less like an aristocrat.

“We’ll see,” she said, echoing Ember from the night before. “We’ll see.”