Alive: A Fairy Tale for Our Time
Back in April 2020, I started drafting a fairy tale story. With everything going on in the world in response to COVID-19, I wanted to fall into a familiar story with a happily-ever-after. For centuries, fairy tales have been a safe place for children to confront fears and for adults to revisit childhood. But I quickly realized that none of our classic fairy tales are really geared for quarantine and stay-at-home orders. The heroes and heroines of fairy tales all have to leave home to have the adventure. Where’s the fairy tale that tells you to be alone and stay at home? Rapunzel and Elsa are both isolated, but one is involuntary and one leaves home to be alone. Neither heroine completely fits what the world is currently experiencing.
So where does that leave me, fairy tale-wise? There just isn’t any fairy tale out there where the hero or heroine has to actively choose to stay at home and be alone to have his or her adventure.
Unless I decided to write my own. So I did.
Back in the spring, I started writing a fairy tale of my own, a fairy tale for our time. Because now more than ever, we need the comfort of stories and a safe space to explore our fears and anxieties, knowing it will all turn all right in the end. (It wouldn’t be a fairytale without a happily-ever-after after all, right?)
This fairy tale is not about a pandemic. But it is about how staying at home and being alone may just be the way to fight the big bad out there in the world and save the day. (Sound kinda familiar?)
It has taken me longer than I had expected, but I am now to share the story with you, chapter by chapter. Like any story told around the fireplace, it won’t be perfect, it won’t be polished. But it will be fun and it will be heartwarming. And I hope it will bring a smile to anyone who needs it. I hope you’ll join me at the virtual hearth soon.
#FairyTaleForOurTime #Alive
Chapter One
Once upon a time, in a fair and beautiful kingdom, there grew a tree. But this was no ordinary tree, no oak tree or maple tree or pine tree or any other kind of tree you have ever seen. This was a magic tree. It gave life.
That was how my mother always began the legend of our kingdom, Espera, and how I remembered it always, even today, as I turned seventeen. I could still hear her voice, the awe in her whisper, as she had told the story every time we tended the tree in the courtyard at the center of the castle.
The castle had been built around the tree. When my ancestors had discovered its magical properties, they decided to the build their home around it. The courtyard allowed the tree to grow tall and reach the skies.
The royal chambers all looked out into the courtyard. Before I was old enough to help, I would sit at my window with my maid, Helaine, and watch my mother tend the tree. She would change out of her royal clothing to do the work. She would water the tree’s roots, pouring buckets she had filled and brought herself, and inspect the tree’s branches and leaves. She would press her hands to the trunk and close her eyes and listen.
If she saw or felt something amiss, she would send word to my father to come to the courtyard. They would inspect the tree together before determining what kind of aid was needed and where to send it. Browning leaves could mean a damaging storm somewhere in the kingdom. Withered roots could mean a blight on the crops. Broken branches could mean invading raiders.
“The tree is our kingdom, Adira,” my mother explained to me when I was five years old and allowed to help her for the first time. “The tree shows us what happens in our kingdom, where there is trouble. But as long as the tree survives, so will our kingdom. When the tree is thriving, that means our kingdom is. That is why we must tend it, make sure the tree keeps on growing and remains healthy and strong. Life finds a way. It always will, and the tree is no exception, but we must help it where we can.”
My ancestors were the first to discover the tree’s power and connection to the land, and they learned how to look after it. It was why they became the first kings and queens of Espera. Now members of our family were the only ones who could tend the tree. Over the centuries of guarding the tree, something had seeped into our blood, into our bones. None of the wizards or historians could really account for why that had happened, only that it had.
Since I was the daughter of the Queen and heir to the throne, as she taught me the ways of tending and guarding it, the tree began to recognize me and the touch of my hands and respond to the water I gave it, just as it did my mother. Whenever I passed by the courtyard on my way to my lessons or a reception or a meal, I would hear the rustle of the tree, greeting me as I passed by, and it would make me smile. It always felt like an old friend saying hello.
I walked around the tree now, my hands brushing the branches and the leaves. I felt the health and vitality of the tree rushing through its veins and into mine. I walked around a second time, this time watering the roots, watching as the tree soaked up the water almost instantaneously. When that was done, I pressed both of my hands to the tree’s trunk and closed my eyes and listened, just as my mother had taught me.
I heard singing, felt a humming in my skin. It was the feeling of a joyous town square, alive with people and colorful sights and shouts of laughter. The kingdom was alive, every corner and crevice, every brook and meadow and forest and glen, every town and city and village. The kingdom lived and breathed, and the tree did so with it.
I opened my eyes. The tree felt warm beneath my hands and I smiled. The tree was so large and great, even now if I hugged it, I wouldn’t be able to wrap my arms all the way around its trunk. I stepped away, out from under its vast shade and into the bare courtyard, blazing with sunshine. A hand rested on my shoulder and I looked up into the smiling face of my father.
“Happy birthday, Adira.”
“Thank you, Father.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around me.
“Your mother would have been so proud of you.”
I nodded. Standing here, with my father, I felt her presence more than ever. “I miss her.”
I have tended the tree on my own for the past seven years. My mother died in childbirth with a baby brother I never got to meet. It wasn’t until I was older that I learned from castle gossip how hard it had been for my parents to conceive in the first place, how blessed they had felt at my birth, how the tree and the kingdom had blossomed on my birthday and every day that year. They had been trying to have another child ever since, they’d dreamed of having large family. When I was old enough to understand, my heart broke to know the disappointment and ache that must have dogged both of my parents’ steps.
There was so much I wished I could talk with my mother about now, all the things that had happened since I was ten years old and all the things that would happen in my future, things that scared me to think about. There was so much I didn’t feel ready for and the only person I knew who could have really understood what I was feeling wasn’t here anymore.
“I know, my dear. I know.”
My father and I left the courtyard together. He had a meeting with the ministers about funding for road repairs in the kingdom. While I offered to join and help, my father insisted I relax and enjoy my birthday. My next birthday, we both knew, would be very busy.
I spent the rest of the day leisurely, until the official celebration in the evening. My friends among the nobles and the local villagers were invited to the castle for a banquet and a ball. At twilight, the guests began to arrive, and the party began. I twirled with the gentry and laughed with my friends until my feet burned and my sides ached.
“One more year of being ‘Your Highness,’” my friend, Elize, said to me in between dances while I sipped mulled cider and took small bites of savory and sweet tarts.
In another year, when I turned eighteen, my birthday would be a formal coronation. Since my mother’s death, I was by most accounts the Queen of Espera. Luckily for me, by the laws of the kingdom, I could not rule until I was eighteen. My one and only royal decree had been that my title remain ‘Princess’ until my coronation, when I would formally take the title and role of ‘Queen.’ For the past seven years, my father had ruled in my name and I got to enjoy my childhood as much as I could.
It had been a gift in a sense, having all the time to be a child before I assumed my full position. I had not been ready to rule when I was ten years old and I still did not feel ready to rule now. Knowing I had only one year left until I would be Queen, ‘Your Majesty’ as Elize teased, I wished for more time to just be.
I set down my goblet and grabbed Elize’s hands. “Come on, time for another dance.”
Music was played well into the night. After hours of the constant sounds of laughter and movement and well wishes and instruments, I wandered out into the courtyard. The tree seemed to glow in the starlight, rustling at my approach. I leaned against one of the stone columns and breathed in the clear, quiet air.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
I startled. I had not realized I had company. I turned and saw Moriel, one of the five wizards living at the palace right now. He was the youngest of the group, only a couple years older than I was. Wizards began training practically from birth, so despite his age, he was fully trained. I envied him at times. He could fulfill whatever magical task was given him with such ease, something I had witnessed on occasion. I wished for half that amount of competency and confidence for whatever lay in my future.
“The tree or the night?”
“Yes.”
I rolled my eyes at him, and he chuckled. I liked Moriel. The other wizards in the castle were much older and far more formal with me, stuffy almost. I met with them so infrequently, I struggled to remember their names sometimes, something I wasn’t particularly proud of. But Moriel treated me like anybody else, something I rarely got. The only other people who didn’t put up fronts with me were Elize and Helaine, my maid. Both of them were more than willing to tell me when I’d done something wrong or stupid and I loved them all the more for it.
“Tired already?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, I just needed some quiet. I’ve been in there for hours.”
“Well, you have to put all those dancing lessons to good use.”
“I haven’t had a dancing lesson in years. Now it’s all diplomacy and economy and history. I almost wish I still had dancing lessons. I could do with the exercise.”
“You don’t get out riding?”
There were a few horses in the royal stables that I could ride when I wanted, but I’d never gotten the hang of riding or bonded with any horse in particular to make it fun. It wasn’t a regular part of my routine and I told him so.
“Well, there’s always combat training,” he suggested. “You could learn to fight.”
I sometimes snuck into the practice rooms of the palace to watch the guards spar with each other, spying on the archery yards as arrows flew into targets. It always seemed so thrilling, and there had been moments when my hands had itched to pick up a sword and take a swing, but then I came back to reality. If I ever swung a sword, I would probably cut my own head off. But I didn’t want to admit that aloud. Instead I said, “Espera’s been at peace for years.”
“Peace gets broken all the time. Surely, you’ve learned that in your history books.”
“Fair enough. But I would never be allowed to see a battlefield, even if we were at war.”
“And why is that?”
“Because someone has to look after the tree,” I said, gesturing to its dark shadow in the courtyard. “Until I marry and have children of my own, I’m all the tree has.”
When my mother had been alive and called away from the palace, others would sometimes tend and guard the tree in her stead, but no one could match my mother’s movements nor did the tree respond as well to anyone else but her, simply because she had been Queen of Espera. The tree wasn’t even very responsive to my father, since he had married into the royal line, a king in name, but not in blood. My parents’ wedding ceremony had included a ritual to graft my father into our family line, so that the tree would recognize him as well. And it did, but never as willingly. As the heir, and sole member of the direct family line, I had the strongest bond to the tree, the one whose touch it reacted to the best. I was the only person alive who could guard and tend the tree properly. I couldn’t abandon it.
“Fair enough. But you could still learn, if you wanted.”
I looked up at him. I didn’t mind that Moriel was pushing back on my replies, I liked being treated like a person who could be challenged, and not a fragile royal. For a moment, I considered what Father would say if I went to him and asked to learn swordplay. He would let me, I knew, but he would wonder why the sudden interest. I didn’t think telling my father I was interested because of a conversation with Moriel was the best idea. And I was still pretty sure I would end up hurting myself if I tried to learn. So I just shrugged and looked back out at the tree. It rustled again, as if sensing my gaze.
“Did you receive a lot of gifts this year, your highness?”
“That’s not exactly the kind of polite thing people talk about,” I told him. “But no, I didn’t. I don’t need gifts.” The only thing I would ever ask for no one could give me.
“Would you accept one from me?”
I turned to him. He was smiling at me, I could tell, but it was too dim to see his eyes clearly. I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “That’s very kind of you, but you really don’t have to,” I managed to say. “I don’t need anything.”
He nodded. “I know.”
He stepped into the courtyard and looked to the sky and raised his hands. At first nothing seemed to happen. Then the courtyard began to brighten, a little bit at time, until the courtyard was lit as if the sun were shining at midday. I could see all the leaves on the tree and the smile in Moriel’s eyes. The light became too bright, and I had to shield my eyes. A moment later, I could sense the light dimming, and I peered out from between slit fingers and gasped. Moriel appeared to be holding a small sun in his hands, a ball of pure light.
“What is that?” I stepped forward, nervous about getting closer but wanting to be nearer to the sun in his hands.
“The light of a star,” Moriel said. He then began to mutter something under his breath. I couldn’t make out the words, not that I would have understood them if I had. Wizards had their own language for spells. But whatever he was saying, it was making the starlight compact and shrink until it was the size of a large pendant. It still shone brightly, but the light seemed controlled now. Moriel finished muttering and a jewel rested in his palm. He offered it to me. “For you.”
“I can’t accept this,” I whispered. I couldn’t hide the awe in my voice. It was a beautiful piece, even before you knew it was made of starlight and shone like it too.
“Of course, you can. A gift from a subject to his queen.”
“I’m not a queen yet.”
“But you will be. And then I won’t have the chance to give you such a gift. You’ll be accepting gifts from all the lords and ladies of Espera and neighboring kingdoms. You won’t have time to accept something from just a friend.”
He took my hand and place the pendant in it. The jewel was warm, and I didn’t think that was from being in Moriel’s hands. I wondered if the pulse I was feeling was just my heart racing or the starlight beating within. There was a small hole at the top of the jewel, perfect for a small chain to slip through to wear as a necklace.
I looked up at Moriel. The light from the star was bright enough I could see his eyes clearly now. There was a smile there, I was glad to see. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I didn’t know what else to say, but luckily, I didn’t have to think about it, because Elize came out looking for me the next moment.
“Adira, come on. It’s almost the last dance.” She nodded to Moriel as she grabbed my arm and led me back into the ball.
“Happy birthday, your highness.”
When I looked back to thank him again, he was gone.
Chapter Two
In the weeks that followed my birthday, I dove into my studies. I felt a shift in the air, now that I had only a year left until my coronation. There was an urgency to learn and master new skills, thing I would need to know for when I was queen and my kingdom looked to me for leadership. I couldn’t tell whether the change was from my teachers or from myself. I could almost hear a clock ticking in the background as I walked the palace halls, telling me to hurry up, hurry up, hurry up.
Elize tried to calm me down whenever we were together. We visited several times a week, sometimes for long stretches when she would accompany me to a lesson or sometimes just for a quick tea break. She could sense my newfound urgency and tried to reassure me that I had time.
“It feels like the one thing I don’t have.”
“And thinking like that isn’t going to help. Just take it one day at a time. Think about something else. What about that man from your party?”
I shook my head. Elize had seen Moriel with me and had been making sly comments ever since. I told her there was nothing to be sly about. Moriel hadn’t approached me since that night, nor I him, though we had crossed paths in the castle every so often. He would bow to me, I would acknowledge him, and we would pass on by, nothing more.
“He could be fun to get to know. Would certainly take your mind off of things,” Elize said with a nudge.
I nudged her back. “No, thank you. Besides we’re both busy. I have to study, and he has his wizard duties.”
“Adira, you need a break.”
What I found most surprising was that Helaine agreed with Elize. When I told my maid about Elize’s comments, she nodded in agreement.
“She’s right, you know. You’ll work yourself sick, your highness, and then where will we be?”
I was shocked. Helaine had always been there for me, since I was a little girl. She saw me in all my moods, all my days, good or bad. I remembered a time I threw a fit in my room, about what I couldn’t recall exactly, Helaine just stood back and watched and when I was done throwing things, told me that if I was going to act like a spoiled child, I would be treated like one as well, and left. When I realized she wasn’t going to come back and help me, I picked up all the things I had thrown about and upended. It was the one and only time that ever happened. Helaine made it very clear what behavior was acceptable and what wasn’t, even from a princess. I never resented her for it, though I knew other people might have. I knew it came from a place of respect and care. As I grew older, and with my mother’s death, Helaine became even more of a friend to me, a confidant. She understood my anxieties about the future.
“The future will come one way or another, Adira. You shouldn’t forget to mind the present. Lillian nags me enough as it is about you not taking care of yourself.”
I supposed she was right, and Elize too. And I could absolutely see Helaine’s wife nagging her about me. But it was so hard to ignore what I knew was coming. The only time I could truly forget was when I was tending the tree. After I ate breakfast with my father every morning, I would go to one of the several water pumps in the palace kitchens and fill four buckets with water. I would then carry the water out to the courtyard, even though it took me two trips. Servants often offered to help, but I always declined. I was taught that I had to do this all myself and that was how I did it. Once I tended the tree, watering it, inspecting it, listening to it, I returned the buckets to the kitchen and then went to my room to formally dress for the day. Like my mother, I wore my plainest clothing to tend to the tree. I’d once asked my mother about that, thinking that it had to do with staying clean. She’d said that was partly it.
“What’s the other part?” I’d asked.
“The tree doesn’t care about finery, Adira. We might be the rulers of the people, but the tree doesn’t care about rank or status. The tree is the kingdom and represents all of the kingdom. Wearing our finest clothes would make it seem like tending the tree is about us. And it isn’t. It never is.”
I liked the clothing that I tended the tree in. Though fine and beautiful, all my other clothing required assistance for me to get into and wear properly. On the day when I woke with the dawn, I could wander about my room, get dressed, and watch the sunrise over the tree in the courtyard, without seeing anybody else. Wearing plain clothing, I could almost be anybody in the whole kingdom.
The season was just beginning to change. A crispness to the air said spring was on its way. Only a few months had passed since my birthday, and though I still dreaded the uncertain future, I couldn’t help but be excited for spring, for the world to be alive with growing things.
I ate breakfast with my father. He told me of the latest news from our neighboring kingdoms, correspondence from their monarchs. In a few months, I would be receiving the correspondence firsthand, and our roles at the table would be reversed, as I would share the news with my father. But I was glad for our routine now and that I got to see how my father thought about every piece of news, throughout and beyond our kingdom.
I kissed him goodbye and went to the kitchens. The kitchens were always loud and hot and filled with people. Nobody curtsied or bowed to me as I entered, something I had requested long ago. I spent enough time going back and forth, weaving my way through the cooks to just get the buckets and fill them and take them to the tree. If people stopped every time to acknowledge me, no one would get anything done. It was silly.
“How are you, your highness?” George asked, as I pumped water into my third bucket. He was one of the cooks and always made sure to say hello to me.
I smiled back at him. “I am doing well, George. And you?”
“Never better, your highness. Have a good day, your highness.” He nodded and went back to work.
I filled up the third bucket and then the fourth. I smiled at the servants as I lugged the buckets out to the courtyard. Despite doing it every day, I always felt shocked at the weight of the water as I carried it. My arms had grown stronger over the years, but I still felt it every time.
The sun was well overhead now and spring was definitely in the air. I took a deep breath before I walked around and began my inspection. The leaves were a pale green, the branches a light brown. I ran my hands through the boughs, feeling the life and—
Something was wrong. A jolt shot through my left hand and my eyes sprang open. I followed the branch that my hand had been touching, the wrongness getting stronger as I walked further away from the tree’s trunk, out on this limb. When I reached the end of the branch, I could feel what was so wrong.
The end of the branch was dead.
Chapter Three
I took a deep breath, feeling the air rattle in my chest. I looked out to the corridors lining the courtyard. I called to a servant passing by. He came to the edge of the courtyard and bowed.
“Please fetch the king. Please tell him it’s urgent.”
The servant bowed and left at a brisk trot. I turned back to the tree.
I had never seen a dead branch before. Even when storms had damaged acres of land, even when disease hit several cities at once, even the one time a band of raiders burned down a village, even then the tree had never felt dead like this. But as I lay my hand on the branch, I could feel the life being sucked out of it. It wasn’t completely dead yet, I realized with a surge of relief, but it was very close. I felt my body shaking but willed it to stay steady.
“Adira, what is it?” Father had arrived, some of his ministers and even the servants following him. Word had clearly gotten around fast that something was wrong with the tree.
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen this before,” I said, showing him the deadened branch. From outward appearances, it didn’t look all that different from the rest of the branch, perhaps a little darker in color, but nothing more. But I knew my father could sense the deadness too. Once he touched the branch, his eyes widened. His hand trembled as he took it away. “Father, what is it?”
“The Hollow.”
I didn’t know what that was. I’d never heard the term before. But the others did. Several of the servants gasped and the ministers looked worried and began to murmur amongst themselves and someone even began to cry. My body began to shake again.
“What’s the Hollow?” I asked.
It was a moment before my father answered me, his eyes still staring at the branch. “No one really knows what the Hollow is or where it comes from. It’s…it’s an energy, a force. The last time it came to Espera was before you were born.”
That could explain why I’d never heard of it, only it didn’t really. If this thing was so terrible, and it did this to the tree, I should have been told about it before now, even if it hadn’t been seen in Espera for almost two decades.
“What does it do?”
“It drains the life out of the land.”
“It does more than that,” a voice behind us said. Father and I turned around and I saw George from the kitchens standing at the edge of the growing crowd of people. His face was pale in the sunlight and his eyes twitched.
“What do you mean, George?” I asked.
“Begging your pardon, your majesty, your highness…the Hollow struck the town where my brother lived the last time. The land turned to rot, and it killed the people too. My brother was the liveliest amongst my siblings. But after the Hollow, he lost the will to live. It killed him. The Hollow killed him. When the land grew back months later, it didn’t matter. Everyone in the town was dead or on the way to dying.”
My heart squeezed in my chest and then began to pound, I was sure everyone in the courtyard and corridors could hear it. I had never heard of anything like this, the Hollow, something that could destroy the land and the people with such apparent ease. I couldn’t really believe it was real. But the evidence was real. The branch beneath my fingertips was practically dead, hollowed out of life itself.
“What do we do? What did you and Mother do the last time?”
“Your mother stayed here with the tree, while I rode out to help the areas that the Hollow struck. We need to locate where this is, and I will depart immediately.”
“But how did you get rid of the Hollow? Defeat it?”
“We didn’t.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “You must have gotten rid of it somehow.”
“That’s just the thing, Adira. We didn’t defeat the Hollow last time. One day, it simply stopped its attack and disappeared. Whole swaths of the kingdom were destroyed before that happened. We had no way of knowing when or where the Hollow would strike. The wizards made attempts to contain it and fight it, but nothing was successful. All we could do was try to repair the damage after the Hollow struck, as best we could.”
I was shaking all over now, I was sure I would fall over in an instant. This couldn’t be happening. Something like this just could not be happening.
“It will be all right, Adira,” Father said, placing comforting hands on my shoulders. I felt ashamed that he could feel my body quaking, knew I was afraid. “I will ride out with my soldiers and some of the wizards and we will see what we can do.”
“And what about me?”
“You will look after the tree. Help this dead branch come alive again. If the tree thrives, the land will respond and grow again. The kingdom and the tree work together. If you can get this section of the tree to alive again, between both of our efforts, we will beat the Hollow this time.”
I nodded. It was a good plan. The tree was the kingdom; the kingdom was the tree. I’d learned that long ago. Father would help the struck region on the ground, I would help from afar. I wasn’t sure how I would get this branch to live again, but I could certainly try.
“Now, let us see where this is.” Father plucked a leaf from the dead branch and together he and I left the courtyard for his study, the ministers following as well. The crowd of people dispersed as we passed by, going back to their regular routines. But I had a feeling work would not get done anytime soon. I saw the worry in everyone’s eyes, the wobbles of their curtsies and bows. I wondered again how I could never have heard the Hollow, seeing how even its name had affected people.
Father sent a messenger to the north tower of the castle, where the wizards in residence lived. We waited for the five of them to arrive. I glanced at Moriel, who looked so grave he seemed older than he actually was. Once everyone was there, one of the ministers closed the door.
“As I am sure you’ve now heard, the Hollow appears to have struck our kingdom again. We need to determine where.”
While we’d been waiting, Father had laid out a large wooden map of Espera. It was old, but every mountain, every river, every valley and forest and meadow, city, village, and town, was accounted for on it. Mother once told me how the map had been made. A very long time ago, lightning had struck the tree in a storm, snapping off an entire branch. The corresponding part of the kingdom had flooded and took weeks to repair. The wizards used their magic on the detached limb to create the map of the kingdom, form the wooden board. Leaves had been taken from every corner of the tree and placed within the pieces of wood. The wizards then strengthened the link between the tree and the map with spells. They had made the first markings, labeling towns and mountains and rivers, but since then, whenever a new village or city was formed, the name appeared on the map on its own. The tree kept the map current in a way no one, not even the wizards with their magic or my mother with her experience, fully understood anymore.
Father handed me the leaf from the tree. I raised my hand above the dead center of the map, where the capital, and therefore the palace and the tree, was marked. I turned my hand over and let the leaf fall. But instead of falling straight down, it drifted, as if on its own breeze, over to the west on the map until it fell onto Darent, a city near the border of the kingdom. That was where the Hollow had struck.
“And that is where we must go.” Father deputized one of the ministers to rally a company of soldiers and gather all the supplies they would need to be ready to leave by tomorrow morning.
“So many soldiers, Father, is that really necessary?” I didn’t like the idea that my father would need so many people.
“We may be out in the country for a long time and who knows how much damage there has been. The more people I bring, the more hands to help the afflicted area.”
He then turned to the wizards. He wanted two of them to come with him, in the hopes that they might learn more about the Hollow and figure out a way to defeat it this time. The wizards discussed amongst themselves which two should go and which should stay behind. The two eldest decided to go and left to pack their belongings.
The study was now in chaos, it felt like. People were coming in and out with reports of progress, with questions that needed answers. Father managed to reply to everyone. I stood by, still too shocked to even feel ashamed at my lack of action. I should have been doing something, I knew, but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything just yet.
“Is there anything else you need from us, your majesties?” Moriel asked my father and me, in a quiet moment. He and the two other wizards were still there.
“No, I think that will be all for now. Thank you, Moriel.”
He bowed to my father and then to me. He and the other wizards left. A moment later, I followed after them out of the study.
“Moriel!”
He stopped and turned. He gestured to his companions to go on without him and came to meet me in the corridor.
“Yes, your highness?”
“What do you know about the Hollow?”
“Not much, I’m afraid.”
That didn’t make me feel any better. “Do you know anything that might help?”
“My companions and I are going to do everything we can.”
“That’s not an answer,” I pointed out. I wanted answers, not riddles.
“I know. But everything will be all right, Princess Adira. I am sure of it.”
I nodded, and he left to join the others. He sounded so certain. I wished I felt the same.
Chapter Four
I returned to Father’s study. No one else was there for the moment, everyone having been sent on some errand or other. Father was flipping through an old book, I couldn’t tell which one.
“Father, why have I never heard about the Hollow until now?”
He looked up at me. Before he could hide it, the fear in his eyes was real. My own eyes widened. My father was afraid. The king was afraid. I’d never seen my father afraid in my life, but now he was.
“Father?”
“I’m sorry, Adira. It never came up.” He sat back in the chair behind the desk. As he sank into the seat, his whole frame seemed to deflate with it. He seemed to age before my eyes.
Another shock coursed through my body. The only other time I had ever seen my father like this, with that posture and that descent of years, was when my mother died. I didn’t have many solid memories from that time, thankfully, mostly feelings and snippets of places, which had the feeling of trying to spot something stable as I whirled around when dancing, the room spinning with me. One of the few stable memories from that time was this, my father in this chair in this room with this look on his face and this age on his body.
I took a deep breath and tried to project a feeling of calm, which I did not feel. But I didn’t want to add to Father’s worry.
“When the Hollow disappeared so quickly the last time, your mother and I had hoped that perhaps it was gone for good. We didn’t want to think about the possibility it would come back. We couldn’t.” There was a tremor in his voice. “The last time…we wanted to forget it even happened.”
Sympathy poured through me, I could understand wanting to forget terrible things, but I struggled with it. “Even so, Father, I should have been told about this. This Hollow is a serious threat to Espera. What if it had come back and I didn’t have you here to guide me anymore?” I didn’t want to think about that time when my father wouldn’t be with me, but I needed to now, just for a moment. My lack of knowledge about the Hollow was a vulnerability that my kingdom could not afford, and I could not allow, not if I wanted to be a good queen. “Father, I need to know about any and all potential threats, past and present, to Espera. Is there anything else you and Mother didn’t tell me?”
He looked up at me then. There was a slight hurt in his eyes, and I realized how accusatory my question had been, like my parents had lied to me or deliberately kept me out. I know that wasn’t what had happened, and I was sorry to have hurt him, but I didn’t want to back down. I was going to be queen in less than a year. I needed to know everything possible if I was going to keep this kingdom safe and guard the tree.
Luckily, my father’s eyes softened after a few moments. “You’re right, Adira. I am sorry that we didn’t tell you about the Hollow before. We had truly hoped we would never see this…thing again. We were wrong. I won’t keep anything from you again.”
“Thank you, Father. Are there any other threats like this out there?”
“Not that I’ve ever seen. Espera has been blessed with peace and prosperity for decades, centuries even. The Hollow is unlike anything we’ve ever seen before.”
I sat down in the chair opposite my father. “Do we know anything about the Hollow? Besides what it does. Where does it come from? Did someone create this? Send it to attack us?”
“I wish I knew, Adira. But we don’t know.”
“Was the last time it attacked also the first time?”
“No, but previous records of the Hollow’s attacks are scant and scattered. They happened ages ago. Our best account is of the last time. I should ask one of the wizards to look through those records. Maybe they will find some pattern, something that could help us.” Father looked up towards the open door of the study.
“Write a note, Father. I’ll give it to someone to take to the north tower. I should return to the tree and see what I can do for it.”
“Thank you, Adira.” He scribbled out a note, which I brought to the first servant I saw. Once that was done, I returned to the tree. I had a branch to revive.
My mother had taught me about taking care of the tree, when it was healthy and thriving, and when it was sick and broken. She showed me how to properly splint branches, so they would graft together and grow again, how to adjust the water to allow roots to strengthen, how to refresh the soil, how to bring in proper mulch and fertilizer. I had been taught a veritable arsenal of techniques to bring a tree back to life. But I still felt a gnawing in my stomach. No damage I had ever seen before was like this.
I watered the tree, for the first time that day, and finished my initial check. Thankfully, the one spot was the only afflicted area. After that, I stirred the surrounding soil, letting fresh air dive deep into the roots below.
I returned to the deadened branch. I knew I wouldn’t see instant results from my work, but part of me wished I could. I got a piece of cotton and wrapped the branch. I doubted cold had anything to do with its state, but I wanted nothing else to affect this part of the tree. I watered the tree a second time for good measure.
I was glad I was still in my plain clothes, as my dress had gotten thoroughly dirty. Tomorrow, I would get scraps from the kitchen and start making a fresh batch of mulch. But I felt exhausted, physically and emotionally, and I knew I was needed in other parts of the castle, to help with the preparations for my father’s departure.
Helaine helped me get into a clean dress when I returned to my room, one of my simpler fine gowns. She knew I would have a lot to do. I returned to my father’s study and helped him with the influx of correspondence. The ministers needed instructions for the departure tomorrow. Nobles were asking questions about what was going on, having somehow already heard about the Hollow, even though it had only been a few hours. The council of wizards had already sent an inquiry as to what they could do. Together, it felt like my father and I had responded to more than one hundred people by the time Helaine came to demand that we eat a proper supper. I hadn’t even noticed it getting dark outside. Father and I acquiesced, following Helaine to great hall where we had our meals.
I barely slept that night. I kept tossing and turning and when I woke up fully, I could have sworn something else was in the room with me. But when my eyes adjusted to the dark, I could tell that there was nothing there. Yet, a voice in my mind now wondered if that were true. No one had described what the Hollow looked like yet, if it even had a form and appearance to it. It could have been in my room with me then. I shivered and shut out the thoughts and tried to sleep.
When the sky began to lighten with the dawn, I gave up and sat at my window and watched the sun rise over the tree. From where I was, the tree looked utterly perfect. I wished it were so.
I got dressed in one of my plain dresses and went down to the tree. I traced my hands quickly through the branches and along the trunk. Nothing had changed from the day before. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but I would take it for now. Knowing I would return later to water and properly tend the tree, I went to join Father for breakfast. He sat in the great hall in traveling clothes with the ministers and the wizards and the local nobles. I bit back a surge of disappointment. I had been hoping I would have the meal alone with my father, a time to talk before he had to leave. But I also understood that there was so much he needed to do before he could leave, so I took a deep breath and sat in my usual seat by his side. I tried to not feel out of place in my plain clothes with so many people around. I didn’t see many people when I was tending the tree, so I never felt out of place.
“Good morning, Adira. How did you sleep?” Father asked me as if no one else were with us. The other people started to talk amongst themselves, giving my father and me a moment.
I smiled. “Poorly.” I thanked the servant who brought me my food and began to eat slowly.
He nodded. “I doubt anyone got a good night’s sleep last night.”
“Can you blame them?”
Father shook his head. “Not really. But it will be all right.”
I wanted to believe him, like I’d wanted to believe Moriel. But I wasn’t as sure, and I couldn’t find the confidence they seemed to have.
“Father, how bad did it get? The last time, that is.”
Silence fell over the entire hall. I didn’t turn away from my father’s face, but I knew that if I did, I would see every face at the table turned towards us. The air seemed to fill the space in between all of our bodies, so much that it was hard to breathe.
Father looked at me a while, the silence stretching and tightening.
“Bad.”
I nodded and exhaled. I’d known that was the answer, even before I’d asked the question, but I still needed to hear it. Somehow hearing it made it all the more real.
“We are better prepared this time, Princess Adira.” I turned to one of the wizards, an older woman with eyes that seemed to go on forever. I still couldn’t remember her name, which made me feel guilty. “We are responding faster than before and with the information we have from last time, we stand a good chance of beating the Hollow.”
I smiled at her. What else could I really do?
The stack of correspondence by my father’s side was larger than normal, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. With wizards and hawks and other magical means in addition to the regular post, news could spread fast in the kingdom, which meant by now almost everyone would know of the Hollow’s return. It looked like there could be a letter from every noble family, every town, and every village in that stack.
“Pass me some of those letters please, Father.” With his departure, I would be the one to go through the daily updates from Espera regardless. I might as well start now.
I finished my breakfast as I read through the pieces of correspondence, sorting them into the piles as my father had taught me – a pile for urgent matters, a pile for matters that needed more time and thought, a pile for matters that needed a royal response but could wait, and a pile for matters that could be responded to by a minister. Father continued discussing other matters with the ministers, plans for their travel to the west, funding and supplies. By the time they were finished, I had completed the sorting and was looking through the urgent matters, jotting down some notes on a piece of paper. I looked up to see my father watching me proudly.
“You do that well, Adira.”
“Well, I was taught well. What do you expect?”
Father laughed. I was pleased. I was worried about what would happen when Father left. It would almost seem like I’d been crowned queen already, being in charge at the palace. All my anxieties about doing a good job were roaring up at me. But here was one thing I was getting right at least.
“We should depart soon, your majesty,” the wizard with the name I couldn’t remember said.
“Yes.” Father rose from his seat. We all followed suit. Everyone left with my father. I took the piles of letters to his study before going to the tree.
I had decided that, despite the fact that the branch had not improve, it was a small victory that it had also not gotten worse or spread. I would take it. I had just finished watering the tree when a servant came for me. My father was departing and wished to say goodbye. I hurried towards the stable grounds.
The grounds were filled with horses and soldiers, women and men geared up and ready to ride. I’d never seen so many people here at once. I wended my way through the crowd, careful to not get trampled in the process, until I reached the outer gates leading beyond the castle grounds. My father stood beside his horse, a satchel in his hands.
“I’m here, Father.”
He turned to me. “Adira, I wanted to give you this.” He handed me the satchel. I looked inside and found an ornate hand mirror. “It’s a speaking mirror. I have its twin. Your mother and I used to use these when we were apart. We should be able to talk to each other with these, no matter the distance.”
It all became real then. He was really leaving. I was going to be all on my own. I blinked rapidly. I didn’t need everyone to see me crying and I didn’t want to make my father feel bad for leaving. He had to go, we needed him to go. But I would miss him. My father must have seen my reaction, because he enveloped me in a hug. I hugged him back tightly.
“I love you, more than words can say.”
“I love you, too, Father. Be safe.”
“I will be. You be safe as well.” He pulled back and kissed my forehead before letting go. “I will be back soon.”
I stepped back, out of the way of the company. Someone, I couldn’t tell who, called the order, and the horses and riders filed out of the gates, my father at the lead. I watched them go until the last rider passed through and the gates were closed behind them.
Chapter Five
I spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon, creating fresh mulch for the tree in the kitchen. The cooks would set aside food scraps from the cooking to be made into fertilizer, primarily for crops in the local farms. But my mother had discovered that some of that fertilizer could also be used on the tree when there was a problem and that the mulch worked best when she had been involved in its making. So I practiced breathing through my mouth to avoid the rotting smell as best I could while my hands worked through food scraps, massaging large bits into smaller pieces and filling buckets to take to the tree. I brought the buckets up but left the mulch in them, allowing them to sit for one more day before giving it to the tree.
I walked among the boughs once more. The tree still felt healthy until I reached that one branch. No matter how many times my hands touched it, the jolt of its deadness still made my skin crawl. It wasn’t natural.
I returned to my room and washed up. Helaine helped me put on a clean dress and I went down to the receiving hall in the palace. Several times, I had been informed that nobles were here to discuss the state of affairs. None of the messages had been particularly urgent. I had sent a message back that I was tending the tree and would meet with them when I was done. I wasn’t worried about offending any of them. They all understood how necessary the tree was to Espera’s survival.
I sat at my seat on the dais. It was next to my father’s throne. I could have sat in that, and many had expected me to, I could tell by their faces, but it didn’t feel right. I wasn’t queen yet, and I was not going to take my father’s place.
Nobles approached one by one with their questions and concerns and offers of aid. One of the ministers took down notes of everything said. I answered, assured, and thanked as best I could. By the time the second to last noble had departed, I was exhausted. And when I saw the last noble was none other than Elize, I was relieved. I got up from my seat and took my friend’s hands.
“Oh, how glad I am to see you!”
“I can imagine,” she said, hugging me. “My mother told us the news. How are you doing?”
The hall was practically empty, so we sat down on the dais steps like we did when we were children. It almost made me feel like a kid again, carefree and unafraid.
“I am all right. Father left this morning, though it seems like an age ago already.”
“And the tree?”
“Standing firm. No better or worse.”
“That’s good, I suppose.”
“It’s only been one day. Since we don’t know how to stop the Hollow and Father can’t possibly provide on the ground aid yet, it’s the best we could hope for.”
“It’s hard to believe not even the wizards know how to stop the Hollow. They seem to know everything.”
I could hear Moriel’s voice again, how he didn’t know anything about the Hollow, but that everything would be all right in the end. I shook my head. “Not this, it would seem.”
“Are you worried?”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. I had tried to give the presentation of perfect calm to all the nobles who had come today. The last thing I needed was for the nobles to utterly panic. If they panicked, the merchants and the farmers and the shopkeepers and everyone in every place and corner of Espera would know and panic as well. Elize was one of them. She deserved the same calm as everyone else. But she was also my friend. I didn’t want to lie to her, however minutely, that I wasn’t worried, because I was.
I smiled a little. “A bit. There’s just so many unknowns right now. But with Father in the field and me here, everything will be all right.” I tried to put as much confidence in my voice as I possibly could, and it must have worked, because Elize simply nodded.
“Well, I’m always here if you need me.”
I squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Elize. I appreciate that, and you.”
She squeezed my hand back. A servant came in then to tell me that my dinner was ready. My stomach growled in answer, and Elize and I laughed. I hadn’t eaten all day. She sat with me for a bit while I ate before leaving for her home. I felt lighter for having spoken with my friend.
I went to my room that evening, utterly exhausted. I sat up in my bed for a bit, before I remembered the mirror Father had given me. I held it by the handle, my reflection staring back at me. I had seen people use speaking mirrors before, but I had never seen one activated. I turned it over and smiled. I recognized my mother’s neat scrawl of instructions.
I flipped it over and held the mirror out in front of me. “I wish to speak with the king, please.”
The mirror’s surface smoked over, a dark mist eclipsing my reflection. I waited. A minute later, the mirror cleared, and my father was looking back at me. I smiled to see him. He looked tired, but otherwise well.
“Adira, you must have read my mind. I wanted to speak with you before I turned in for the night. How are you, dearest?”
“I’m good, Father. Tired. Are you encamped for the night?”
“Yes. We made excellent time. We should arrive in Darent by tomorrow midday, if all goes well. How do things stand at home?”
“The same.”
He nodded. We spoke a bit more before bidding each other good night. “I thank you mirror for your service.” The mirror smoked once more and then cleared, showing my own face again.
I placed the mirror on my bedside and laid down and was instantly asleep.
The next day was much the same, except quieter and perhaps a bit easier. I’d slept better and now that things were underway, there were no more beginnings. I’d always found that beginning something was the hardest, but once I was in the midst of it, I could trudge along until completion quite easily. It was the looming of the task that was always the most daunting, not the task itself.
I tended the tree, which was still the same. I hoped that with Father’s arrival at Darent today, I might see a change starting tomorrow on the deadened branch. As I left the courtyard, I was surprised to run into Moriel, sitting in one of the corridor’s alcoves.
“Princess Adira,” he bowed to me. “I wanted to see how the tree fares.”
“Much the same.”
“Is that good?”
“It’s not the worst possibility.”
He smiled. “Thank you. I must return to the north tower. My companions and I are going through the records of the previous times the Hollow struck.”
“Have you had any success yet?”
“We’ve located several volumes documenting the last time. We found a few records from prior instances, but those provide so little information as to be negligible.”
“Just as my father predicted.”
“Yes. Once we have all the records, we will start reviewing the accounts. We are also in touch with Galia and Yorind. Once they reach Darent, they will analyze what they can of the Hollow in the field and tell us what they know.”
Galia and Yorind must be the two wizards who had gone with my father, I realized, guiltily. I really should have remembered their names before this. I nodded to Moriel. “That’s good to know. Thank you.”
“Your highness,” Moriel bowed once more and left then. I returned to my chambers, changed into a fancier gown with Helaine’s and others’ assistance, and descended to the receiving hall. I spent the rest of the day there, speaking with nobles and merchants and soldiers and farmers. When I wasn’t talking with someone, I was receiving reports from the ministers. The kingdom, while shaken at the return of the Hollow, was still strong and firm. The people were rallying, determined to beat the Hollow again. I was never more proud of Espera and my people than when I heard those reports.
The next morning, I came to the tree, buckets in hand, and saw that Moriel was already there. He looked concerned.
“Good morning, Moriel. Is something wrong?”
“Princess Adira. I…um…” He looked out to the courtyard. I followed his eyes and saw immediately what had him at a loss for words.
There was a deadened branch, a black spot on the tree, facing the archway where he and I stood. I put down the buckets, water sloshing over, and ran and touched the darkened spot. It felt exactly like the other branch of the tree.
The Hollow had struck again.
I went to the first branch and place my hand on it. I could feel a tiny beat of life in it. That would have been my father’s arrival to help Darent. But it was still on the brink of death and now there was another place in the same condition.
“Moriel,” I called. My voice sounded calm, which shocked me. I didn’t feel any kind of calm.
“Yes, your highness?”
“Please send for the other wizards. We should speak in my father’s study. And can you please send word to the ministers that they should come as well?”
“At once.” He left at a brisk pace.
I walked past the dead branch and went to the trunk of the tree. I pressed my hands against the trunk and then leaned my head against its bark. Tears itched behind my eyes. Why was this happening? I wanted to scream. But I knew I couldn’t. I focused on the tree, taking deep breaths, listening as my mother had taught me.
There was that town square again, alive with people, a humming in my skin. But I could feel a difference to it now. There was a slight edge to the hum. It wasn’t all joy. There was fear now, seeping in.
I swallowed sharply, forcing the tears back down. I stepped away and went back to the second spot. I plucked a leaf from it and headed back into the palace. I made a brief stop at my own chamber to get the mirror so I could speak with my father.
By the time I arrived at my father’s study, Moriel, the other wizards, and the ministers were all there. It was clear from their faces that the news had been shared. I nodded to them all and then approached the map of the kingdom, which was still laid out on my father’s desk. The first leaf still rested on Darent in the west of the kingdom.
My hand raised above the capital, I released the leaf and watched it drift towards me, to the southern city of Ilwan. I lifted the mirror, spoke the words, and waited for my father’s face to appear.
“Hello Adira, where has the Hollow struck now?”
My eyes widened. How had he known?
“I got word out,” Moriel spoke from behind me, “to Galia and Yorind.”
I nodded at him and looked back at the mirror. “Ilwan, Father. In the south.”
He nodded. “I will send half of my soldiers and Yorind there immediately. They should reach there by tomorrow, if the weather holds and roads are clear.”
“How are things in Darent?”
“As well as can be expected. We are helping the people repair the damaged lands, but it is slow work. How is the tree?”
I shrugged. “As well as can be expected.”
He nodded. “I must return to the work here. Keep me updated, Adira.”
“I will, Father.”
I put the mirror away and turned to the people in the study. “With the king sending men already with him, I am not sure what more we can do at the present. I hope they will not be needed, but I think it might be wise to call up the reserves of our soldiers.”
“Very wise, your highness,” one of the ministers said. “We will see to that immediately.”
“We should also begin making preservations of supplies, food in particular, in case the afflicted areas need more assistance as they recover.”
The ministers nodded. I turned to the wizards. “Is there anything else that can be done?”
Moriel looked at his colleagues before shaking his head. “With the information we have right now, no. Galia and Yorind will report what they find at Darent and Ilwan. Between that and the records, hopefully we will be able to find something that will help.”
“Perhaps Ilwan will give us more to work with. The more information, the better,” one of the other wizards said, an older man named Maron. I had finally remembered all of the wizards’ names.
I knew he meant well. With two afflicted areas, the wizards could make a study of both places, comparing what the Hollow was doing in each, and come up with a strategy, magical or otherwise, to combat it. But I didn’t like the idea that in order to progress, we needed more places to fall victim to the Hollow in the first place. So my tone was cold when I responded, “For all our sakes, may you be right. Because I for one hope it is the last new information we ever receive.” I left the study, the ministers and wizards following in my wake.
Chapter Six
I was not lucky, and my hopes were dashed. Three days later, the Hollow struck again, this time a little village in the east of the kingdom, inwards from the border by some miles. My body shook with rage as I watched the leaf drift to the east on the map. The wizards decided to send Maron, along with fifty soldiers at my command. I spoke with my father, who agreed with this course of action.
“Maron wanted more information, now he can go get it,” Moriel said to me as we watched the last of the supply train disappear from view at a castle window.
I heard my own disdain echoed in his voice. I sighed. “I know he meant well. In a way, he’s right. More information can only help us fight the Hollow.”
“But not at the cost of the land and the people. He should have kept his mouth shut.”
I smirked. It was amusing, seeing Moriel getting annoyed at his companions, his betters in some respect, since the other wizards were older and had more experience. It made me feel justified in my own feelings.
I spent most of my time with the tree these days, watching it, watering it, tilling its earth, wrapping the three hit portions in cotton. I couldn’t tell what was working and what wasn’t. When I pressed my hands to the trunk, I still felt the humming of the tree, but it was beginning to have a somber tone to it, a town square on edge.
I received messages and visitors in the courtyard. I was anxious about leaving the tree all alone. Every time I left because I had no choice, my stomach dropped, wondering and worrying whether the next time I came back, there would be another deadened spot upon the tree.
I didn’t have to wait long. Three days later, there was another branch. This time it corresponded to a hamlet in the north. I spoke with my father and dispatched another fifty soldiers, some of whom were reserves, and supplies. Lionna went with them, leaving Moriel as the last wizard at the palace. I tended the tree and then returned to my father’s study. I stared down at the map on table, a dead leaf at every cardinal border of the kingdom.
We were surrounded.
I sat down in the chair opposite my father’s, rested my head and arms on the table, and burst into tears. I hadn’t let myself cry since this had begun almost two weeks ago. I had felt helpless and angry and afraid at different points, but I had always managed to keep those emotions in check. But something about seeing the map with my people and kingdom utterly surrounded by this thing we could not stop broke me.
I heard people in the hallways outside and I realized I couldn’t stay here to cry. It wouldn’t be good for word to get around that the princess was sobbing her eyes out in the king’s study. I managed to stop just long enough to make it back to my chambers. Once the door shut behind me, I burst into tears again. I went to sit on the edge of my bed and just sobbed.
Helaine found me, I don’t know how much later. I’d lost track of time. She knocked, and when I did not answer, opened the door and looked in and saw me. She came in, closed the door behind her, and sat beside me on the bed. I fell into her embrace and cried some more. She held me tight.
“I’m so scared…” I whispered when I could find my voice again.
“I know.”
“I’m failing, Helaine.”
“No, you are not.”
“Yes, I am.” I pulled away from her and hiccupped. “The Hollow struck again. It’s hit in the north, south, east, and west now. And I can’t do anything. I can’t stop it; I can’t fix it. I’m failing.”
Helaine looked at me with a steady eye. When I had calmed down a bit more, she simply asked, “Is the tree alive?”
I peered at her. “Yes…” I didn’t understand what she was getting at.
“Then you haven’t failed.”
“Oh really? How so?”
“You tell me, Adira. What did your mother always say about the kingdom and the tree?”
I could almost hear my mother’s voice as I answered, “The tree is the kingdom. The kingdom is the tree.”
“Exactly. Now is the tree alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then so is your kingdom. As long as the tree lives, the kingdom lives.”
“And if the tree dies, then so will the kingdom.”
“That’s not going to happen so fast. Espera is strong. The land is strong. Your people are strong. They aren’t going to die without a fight.”
“The Hollow takes out all the fight. It hollows the life out of you, the land and the people. I can even see it in my father.” I’d spoken with him hours before, telling him about the fourth attack, and I’d been shocked to see gray hairs around his temples and a weariness in his eyes. Father was by no means old, but I could see for the first time that he was older. “What’s to stop the Hollow from sucking the life from every corner of Espera?”
“You will stop it. Your people will stop it. The tree will stop it.”
“We don’t know how to stop it, Helaine. No one does.”
“No one does yet, you mean. But as long as the tree lives, your kingdom is alive and Espera has hope. And what have you been doing?”
“Crying.”
“You are doing your job, Adira. You are keeping the tree alive. That is what your people and your kingdom need from you right now and you are doing it. So how can you say that you are failing?”
I looked at Helaine. She looked back at me, her eyes steady and clear, as they always were and always had been for all of my life. She was my staunch ally and confidante and friend, always there for me. I was grateful for her.
“Thank you.”
She smiled. “Always, Adira. Now, I think you should rest.”
“I should get back to work.”
“Work will still be there, after you rest for a while. I’ll make sure to get you in an hour or two. You’re no good to anyone if you collapse on us or make a public spectacle of yourself. Lillian would never let me hear the end of it.”
I smiled a little at that. Helaine’s wife worked in the palace as a healer and midwife; she’d nursed me through many colds when I was younger. Lillian took no prisoners, like Helaine, and was very vocal about the royal family taking care of themselves, even if it meant taking time away from royal duties. I knew Helaine was right about the rest, and my eyes stung from crying. The idea of closing them, even for a few minutes, seemed luxurious. I kicked off my shoes and crawled across the bed towards my pillows. I laid my head down and watched as Helaine prepared to leave.
“Helaine…”
She paused and looked back at me.
“What had it been like…the last time?”
Her face darkened. I saw the struggle to remember, her desire to forget and not think of that time, like my father had said. I could tell she didn’t want to answer, but I held her eyes.
“Terrifying. Your mother was pregnant with you at the time and your father was gone to help fight the Hollow and no one knew what was going to happen. Those months…the worry about the future was worst of it.”
She stopped, because she had nothing more to say or because she was not able to say more, I couldn’t tell. I nodded weakly, releasing her, before closing my eyes. I was asleep in an instant.
The palace felt quieter the next few days. I wasn’t sure whether that was because there were fewer people in the castle, now that wizards and soldiers were gone, or that the people who remained simply didn’t want to talk and if they did, they talked in muted tones, hushed with fear and worry.
I continued looking after the tree. Sparks of life had returned, however minutely, to each of the struck branches, evidence of the people we’d sent arriving and helping the survivors restore their land and lives as best they could. The branches still felt dead, for the most part, this was just a faint burst of life, a tiny heartbeat again. But I took hope from it. I clung to it desperately.
The pattern had emerged that the Hollow struck every three days. I had begun to dread the night before the third day, knowing there was every possibility I would see a newly killed branch on the tree, another place hit by the Hollow. I found it hard to fall asleep, almost impossible to shut my brain off.
The dawn light felt weak as I dressed. I went straight to the kitchens and filled the buckets of water. I smiled at the cooks, who managed to smile back, but no one spoke. There were no more words.
I came upstairs, buckets in hand, and saw Moriel in the courtyard. He was always there in the mornings now, seeing the tree for himself. He turned to me as I stepped into the light and I could tell from his face that what I had feared was true. The Hollow had struck again. I placed down the buckets and walked to the tree. I found the spot, on the same branch as the first, but this time further in from the edge.
I plucked a leaf and silently left for the study, Moriel following in my wake. The leaf drifted on the map to a city in the west again, some miles inward from Darent.
“I need to contact my father.” I picked up the mirror, which I now kept in the study.
“I don’t think you’ll be able to, your highness.”
I turned to Moriel. “Why not?”
“I tried to contact Galia this morning. She’s still with your father in Darent. I couldn’t get through to her.”
My eyes widened. The wizards had their own magical ways of contacting each other, fast and reliable methods we depended on to get word around the kingdom quickly.
“You don’t think…”
“This new assault is in the direct path from us to the king. It seems possible the Hollow might be stopping any magic from getting through.”
I turned back to the mirror. “I wish to speak with the king, please.”
The mirror’s surface smoked over, a dark mist eclipsing my reflection. I waited. But the mirror didn’t clear. I asked again. Still the mirror shone dark and smoked. After a few more minutes, the mirror did finally clear, but all it showed was my own face.
“How is this possible?”
“The Hollow is magic all its own. It does things we cannot understand.”
“But…but how did we not know this before?”
“The Hollow struck one area last time and spread from there,” Moriel approached the map and pointed to the southwest corner of the kingdom. “It didn’t do this…hopping around. If the Hollow cuts off magical contact, last time wouldn’t have been an indicator. You had no trouble contacting the king yesterday, so reaching Darent on its own isn’t an issue.”
“It’s the sending of magic through another hollowed city first.”
“It would make sense, in a way. The Hollow could destroy any magic that tried to pass through its…whatever it is. And no magic spell ever tries to go in a circuitous route, not unless told to do so by the caster.”
I leaned on the desk, hanging my head for a moment. I wouldn’t be able to talk to my father again with the mirror, at least not while the Hollow was in the way. I would deal with that blow later. But right now, there were other things to do. I took several deep breaths.
“Would you be able to get a message to Yorind then or Lionna? They are in the north and the south. Surely, their angle to the king would be unobstructed.” I drew a line from us to the north, and from the north to the west, where my father was, bypassing the newly struck city.
“It should work. But if this is the case, we need to set up a relay system, wizards on either side of struck towns to get messages through.”
“Agreed. The council of wizards have been kept up to date with what is happening, correct?”
“Yes, and I will inform them of this development immediately, but your highness, I think there is something else.”
“What?”
What else could there really be? I didn’t want to think it could be worse.
“Look at the map, the places the Hollow has struck.” Moriel pointed at Darent and swooped his hand to follow the path of the five locations. I saw it then, just as Moriel said, “It’s spiraling.”
Each attack, the Hollow had moved a little further into the kingdom, and now with this fifth attack, it was even more clear. A spiral was beginning to form. Moriel’s finger had stopped on the fifth spot. I pointed from that place and continued the spiral, slowly moving my finger around and around the map until it stopped in the center.
On the capital. On us.
“You think it’s coming here.”
“Yes,” Moriel said. “It’s coming for the tree.”
Chapter Seven
“The tree? Why would the Hollow come for the tree?” I stared at Moriel, horrified.
“Because if the tree dies, the last defense of Espera will be gone.”
I looked back at the map, my finger resting on the capital. “The kingdom is the tree. The tree is the kingdom,” I murmured.
“Exactly. As long as the tree is alive, the Hollow won’t ever successfully destroy Espera. The tree will keep the kingdom alive, however faintly. But if the tree dies, if the Hollow can kill the tree, then the kingdom will either die with it or become like other kingdoms, normal and easy pickings for the Hollow to deal with afterwards.”
I could see it now, just as Moriel described. The courtyard full of death and the land and kingdom following after.
“But the inverse is true too,” I said, my words coming slowly. “If the kingdom dies, then tree would collapse on its own. Espera’s never been in any kind of danger to get even close to that before, so no one is entirely sure, but it should work that way as well. Why isn’t the Hollow just spreading out again, like last time? Cover all the kingdom? The tree wouldn’t be able to support all of that, even faintly.”
“Maybe the Hollow knows something we don’t. I mean, that’s what it did last time, and it failed. It spread from one spot out and then something stopped it. Why wouldn’t it try something different this time? Also, if you knew taking out one target would make everywhere else vulnerable, logistically speaking, it makes the most sense to take out that one target first.”
“And that target is the tree.”
It meant the Hollow was coming here. It was only a matter of time. I looked back at the map. There was no telling where the next attacks would be, which cities and towns, only that they would be spiraling inwards towards us. There was also no way of knowing how many places would be hit until the Hollow got here. But it was coming. I saw it just as Moriel did.
One way or another, the Hollow was coming for the tree and would attack the palace.
I remembered George’s wide eyes, the tremor in his voice, as he told of his brother, what had happened to him for having been exposed to the Hollow. That would happen here.
An idea took shape in my mind and I realized what I had to do. I knew it was the right move and I knew I would have to fight for it. No one, not even I, would be happy with it.
I turned to Moriel, who was studying the map, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “Moriel, can you please send word to all the wizards about the latest attack? We need to get word to the king and to set up the relay system.”
“At once,” he moved to leave.
“Also, could you please send word to have all my ministers to meet me here in two hours? You should be there as well. And Helaine.”
“Your maid?”
“Yes, I would like her to be here to discuss what we do next.”
Moriel was clearly puzzled by this addition, but he simply nodded and left. Alone in the study, I walked around to the other side of the desk, where my father would have sat if he were here. I hadn’t sat in it since he’d left, it had felt wrong. But now, I wanted the confidence of its position, in the room and in the minds of anyone who came in. This seat was for the ruler of the kingdom.
I took out the royal stationary and wrote several letters to the local nobles. I would need their assistance. Once the letters were written, I called for several messengers. I dispatched them to deliver the letters, with specific instructions not to return without an explicit answer to my requests. They nodded and left at a brisk pace. I looked at the time piece in the study. My two hours from when I sent Moriel were almost up. There was one thing I wanted to get before I met with everyone here.
I left the study and headed to my chambers. Helaine wasn’t there, thankfully. She would have demanded an explanation for why I was getting my tiara. I rarely wore it, only on special occasions, when ceremony demanded it. I didn’t need something heavy on my head to remind me and everyone else I was princess of Espera.
But I had a feeling I might need it now. The tiara lived in the locked drawer of one of my dressers, where the most precious of my jewels were kept. Most had been in the family for centuries, belonging to my mother and grandmother and so on before me. I took out the tiara, a crown of diamonds with a single emerald, and locked the drawer. I walked over to my full-length mirror and placed the tiara on my head. It rested easily, but I had to hold my head and the rest of my body differently to adjust for the weight, physical and mental.
It didn’t matter that I was still wearing the plain clothes for tending the tree. With the tiara on my head, I was every inch a princess.
I also made a mental note to go to the tree after I spoke with everyone. I hadn’t completed my tending this morning.
I returned to the study, pleased to find everyone there. They were muttering amongst themselves, Moriel and Helaine in a corner together. Everyone bowed to me when I came in, either from custom or from noticing the crown on my head, I couldn’t really tell, and I motioned for all the doors to be closed. I stood behind my father’s desk.
“Thank you all for coming. As I’m sure you have heard, the Hollow has struck again, this time here.” I pointed to the map. “Moriel and I have discussed it, and we believe that the Hollow is making a path to come here, to the castle, to attack and kill the tree.”
Everyone started talking at once, even Moriel, though he was trying to calm Helaine at his side, since this wasn’t news to him. The ministers were horrified, Helaine looked about to faint.
“Quiet, please.”
Everyone fell silent. I was secretly pleased that my tone, the one I’d heard my father use in the past to regain order, had worked. I’d never had to use it myself before.
“I understand this is distressing news. But now that we have some idea of the Hollow’s plan, we can address it accordingly.”
“What do you suggest we do, your highness?” one of the ministers said.
“For starters, the Hollow has cut off our contact with the king. Moriel has been in touch with the council of wizards to address this issue.”
“Yes, they are reaching out to all active wizards to take up positions to relay messages around the kingdom,” Moriel said. “It appears magic cannot pass through a hollowed area, so we need to actively direct around those places. It will take longer, but we should be able to still communicate throughout the kingdom when everyone is in position.”
“Excellent. We suspect the Hollow is moving in a spiral. While that doesn’t mean we know exactly when or where the Hollow will hit on its way here, we will have some idea of the vicinity of each of the next attacks. We can prepare in advance, send supplies and people in those directions so as to be there as fast as possible when the Hollow strikes.”
“Very good, your highness. We will draw up the supplies and funds as needed.”
“Thank you. There is one more thing.” I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the backlash I knew would come. “Everyone will evacuate the palace in three days’ time.”
“What?”
“Why?”
“But, your highness!”
I couldn’t tell who was saying what, everyone spoke over each other. I didn’t even try to stop them, at least not yet. I wouldn’t have been successful.
“Princess Adira, what are you talking about?” Helaine’s voice cut through the others and silence fell.
I looked into the face of my maid, my ally through everything. I could see her concern in her eyes, in the tension of her body. I wanted her here, because after my father, she was the person in the palace who cared the most about me, not as a princess, but as a person.
“The Hollow is coming here. You know what the Hollow does to people. How can anyone stay here when that puts them in danger?”
“What about the tree?” Moriel asked.
“I will remain here with the tree. Alone.”
The chorus of questions sounded again, this time louder and more indignant. I sat down in my father’s seat to wait for them to be quiet.
“Your highness, you cannot be serious!” Helaine cut through the voices again. I was surprised she called me by my title, something she rarely ever did.
“I am. Quite. I am the only one who needs to be here at the palace, to look after the tree and keep it alive. Everybody else will leave. I will not keep people here to put their lives at risk.”
“The Hollow may not attack for months!” one of the ministers said.
“We have no way of knowing when it will attack. It’s keeping a steady pace right now, but we have no idea how long that will hold for. It could pick up speed any day now and then it would be too late to evacuate the castle in time to save people.”
“You want to stay here all by yourself?” Helaine said. “No servants, no cooks, no—”
“No guards, no soldiers, no nobody. All by myself.”
“No guards? What if someone attacks the palace? You could be killed!”
“Well, I’m hoping our wizard can fix that for us,” I said, turning to Moriel. “Can you enact a protection spell around the castle to prevent anyone from getting in?”
Moriel hesitated a moment. “Yes, but—”
“Then that fixes that issue.”
“No, it does not!” Helaine stated. “What if you fall down the stairs? Or choke on your food? Or fall ill with something? Or—”
“Helaine, I could fall down the stairs or choke on my food with one of you standing right here and you might still not be in time to save me. But I’ve survived seventeen years of life without any major tumbles or choking incidents, so I think we can trust my history and not worry about those.”
“And illness?” Moriel said. “If something happens to you, there wouldn’t be any way for us to help you.”
I thought for a moment. “Surely, you can make your protection spell to lock everything out, but not lock myself in. That way, if something happens that I need assistance with, all I have to do is open the front doors and the spell breaks and everyone can rush in to help me, as needed. Can you do it?”
“Your highness—”
“Can you do it, Moriel?” I felt sorry for cutting him off, and Helaine before that, but I was losing my patience.
“Yes, your highness.”
“Then that’s settled.”
“Your highness, is this really necessary?” one of the ministers said.
“Yes, it is,” I rose from the seat. “I am the only person who has to be here. The tree needs me to stay alive. But everybody else? None of you have to be here. Then how can I keep people here, knowing the impending risk? And for what? My own convenience, my comfort? I will not risk people’s lives so needlessly and so selfishly. I cannot do it. I will not.”
I glared at all of them. I meant every word and I needed them to see that. They were all silent, their eyes on me.
Moriel broke the silence. “Where do you intend to send everyone? There are hundreds of people in the palace.”
I took a deep breath. Talking about logistics was progress. “I have sent letters to the nobles, requesting each house take as many people as possible. I expect their responses by this evening, at which point we will make rosters of where people will be staying. I want to make sure families stay together.”
“Do you intend on withholding wages during this time?” another minister asked.
“Of course not! Why would you even suggest that?” The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.
“Because these people will not be working during the time away from the palace.”
“They are doing their duty to me and the kingdom by leaving. I would not dream of taking away wages. Everyone will continue to be paid, as usual.”
“But your highness, the nobles will require funds to house and feed so many people, especially since we do not know how long this might last. And then the places hit by the Hollow will also need support. How can we pay people who are no longer doing their jobs?”
“Last time I checked, the royal treasury was full. Use it. Everyone who works at the palace will still be paid.”
“Your highness, the royal treasury, while in a good position at the moment, cannot last forever. If it should all be used up—”
“Then it will be well spent.”
“But your highness, after this ends—”
“What a comfort it will be to me, that when this is all over and my people are destitute and the land dead around us, that the royal treasury is still brimming with gold.” I glared at the minister until he blushed. A rage poured through me, making my body shake, that someone would even think that money counted for more than lives right now. “What good will gold be to me if the kingdom is destroyed and my people with it? You are to distribute the money as necessary. To the nobles, to those the Hollow has struck, to the people who work in this palace. Be judicious about it, but you will use the money. And if something happens once the Hollow is gone and we require more funds than we have, we will cross that bridge when we get there. This is the crisis now and we will deal with it now. Is that understood?”
“Yes, your highness,” each person murmured.
I took a deep breath. “Now. What else?”
“How are we to get word to you, your highness? And from you?” another minister asked. “We will need to know when the Hollow attacks again and you will need to be kept up to date of affairs beyond the castle walls. We will need your instructions on matters.”
“A protection spell would block any magical communications,” Moriel said.
“Would it block carrier pigeons? There is still a flock here in the palace.”
“It shouldn’t.”
“Then we will communicate daily with the carrier pigeons. Is there anything else?”
They all traded looks, asking each other silently what else was there. I could see them wondering at each other if there was anything to be said that would convince me to abandon this plan.
“I don’t like this, Adira,” Helaine said. Her voice was small, private, a friend to a friend confiding a fear.
“Nor I,” Moriel added.
I sighed. “I know. But I do not see an alternative. Not one that keeps everyone here safe. And I’ve yet to hear a compelling argument for why I shouldn’t do this.”
“Because it’s madness,” Moriel said.
“If it’s a madness that saves lives, then so be it. I will be mad. Let all of Espera call me mad. At least they will be alive to do it.” I looked into each of their faces. “I know you do not like this. Truthfully, neither do I. But this is a royal decree. I do not require or need your support, although I would appreciate it, before we inform the rest of the palace. Do I have it?”
Silence fell in the study. My eyes passed over each of their faces again.
Moriel was the first to bow and answer, “Yes, your highness.”
And then the others followed. Helaine wobbled a curtsey, Moriel steadying her from falling over.
“Thank you. Now let’s get to work.”
Chapter Eight
I went to the tree and performed the daily ritual, while my ministers started gathering lists of everyone who worked in the palace. A few of the messengers I had sent to the nobles had begun to return with responses of how many each house could host.
I took my time walking around the tree, feeling the branches for where there was life. The pulse of those parts sped through me, invigorating me. There was still life in the tree. I poured the buckets over the trees roots and watched the water get soaked in. I rested my hands on the trunk and listened. That town square, that center of life I always seemed to hear emanating from the tree, was even more subdued now, but it was still there. I clung to it.
“What do you want, Moriel?”
I had heard someone enter the courtyard a while back and whoever it was had waited for me to be done, not interrupting. The only person I could think of to do that would be he.
I heard a sigh from behind me. “Princess Adira, do you really need to do this?”
I took my hands off of the tree and backed away, keeping on my eyes on the trunk. I stopped when I had reached the sunlight. Moriel stepped beside me.
“It is the right thing to do.”
“It may be a right thing to do, but that does not make it necessary.”
“Shouldn’t the right thing be necessary?”
He didn’t answer. I continued looking at the tree. A breeze passed through the courtyard and the leaves moved in response. I wished the tree could give me a sign that I was doing right.
“There’s so much I cannot do in this fight, Moriel. Evacuating the palace is the one thing I can do. I will not stand by and do nothing when I can do something.”
“Would you suggest evacuating the entire kingdom? Every possible place in the Hollow’s path?”
I turned to him. “If we knew where the Hollow would hit for certain and that evacuating the place would not change the Hollow’s direction, then yes. Yes, I would. But we don’t know where the Hollow will attack next. This is the one place we are certain of.”
“What would your father say about this?”
I took a deep breath. I had wondered when someone might use that argument against me. I hadn’t expected it from him though. “My father trusts my judgment. He left me in charge here. He would trust my judgment now. Not that I would need his approval.”
“You aren’t queen yet, your highness.”
I wanted to hit him, even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good. It would have only made me feel better for a moment and then I would just feel worse later. But he deserved to be smacked, if only to wipe that look off his face, like he’d successfully maneuvered me into a corner.
“I don’t need you to remind me of my position, wizard. Need I remind you of yours?”
I turned on my heel and walked away, picking up the empty buckets to return to the kitchen. I heard him follow me.
“Your highness, wait…Princess Adira, please!”
I stopped in the hallway. I didn’t turn around though.
“I am sorry. What I said was out of line. I apologize. It’s just…I don’t like this. Any of this. The evacuation. Leaving you alone.”
I turned around. I could see the worry on his face. “With your protection spell, I will be safe.”
“A protection spell may guard you from the outside world, but not from within.”
“I think we already dispensed with the issue of me falling down the stairs or choking on my food.”
“There’s more than that. Tending the tree all by yourself—”
“I do that already.”
“Yes, but with no one else around to help you, with everything else. What about feeding yourself? Cleaning your own clothes? You’re a princess, you’ve never done any of those things for yourself before.”
“Then it’s about time I learned, isn’t it, since it is how most of my people live. Moriel, I am not a simpleton. I can learn to cook and clean just like anybody else. And without anyone around to judge me as a princess, I can fail as many times as I need to until I get it right.”
“All the while guarding the tree and keeping it alive?”
“Yes! Do you doubt that I could do it?”
He was silent a moment. “No. I do not doubt you. But it will not be easy. Can you fault me or Helaine or anybody else for wanting to make things easier for you?”
I swallowed. I expected Helaine would put up a fight with me later, when it was just the two of us. I had expected Moriel to argue with me, but not like this. “I cannot fault you for that.”
“Please let me stay here with you.”
“No.”
“Your highness, what do you intend to do when the Hollow arrives?”
“I do not know. Perhaps while you are outside the castle walls, you will have time to review the records from last time and consult your fellow wizards and come up with a plan. I’ll be waiting for your pigeon.”
“Or I could stay and come up with a plan here.”
“No. Take whatever books and documents you need with you, but you are not staying here. Besides, you yourself told me magic cannot fight the Hollow.”
“That doesn’t mean magic cannot delay it or at least give it another target to attack!”
“So you would stay here just to be fodder? A diversion? No, Moriel. You will leave with everybody else. That is an order.”
I left then. There was much I had to do, and he too.
I spent the rest of the day with my ministers, organizing lists of where people would be staying, in accordance with the numbers each noble house could host. Helaine tried to get me to leave the study to eat, but I asked her to have the food sent there. I didn’t want to go to sleep until this was all sorted out.
The next day, I announced the evacuation to every person in the castle. My ministers gathered small groups of people together and I explained the situation, answering their questions. The first group took the longest to explain and reason with, but by the last group of the day, the people who worked in the kitchen, my explanation was accepted without issue. Clearly, the gossip grapevine of the palace had been at work so that by the time each subsequent group came to me, as the day wore on, they’d already heard the news and knew what was coming.
“I thank you, your highness, for your thoughtfulness, during this time,” George said after I’d finished speaking. “We will prepare supplies for you in the kitchens that should last you some time. Perhaps the wizard can help us with the preservations.”
“Thank you, George. That would be most helpful.”
He bowed and left the receiving hall, leading the other staff out. I sat back in my seat and sighed. I had been talking nonstop to everyone in the palace all day. I had known there were hundreds of people living in the palace, but it was another matter to literally see them all over the course of a single day. I was exhausted.
“Adira?”
I looked up. Elize was there, in the center of the hall. I smiled weakly at her and beckoned, as I was too tired to go to her. She understood and came to me and took my hand.
“How are you?”
I shook my head. “Drained. And you?”
“I am all right. My family too. My mother is organizing the house to accommodate our guests for the next…while.”
“Thank you for that. And give my thanks to your mother. I will owe her and everyone else when this is all over.”
“Do you have any idea when that will be?”
I looked up into the face of my friend. I could still see the face of the little girl I used to run around and play with from within her adult face now. I wished we could go back to that simpler time.
I shook my head. “I know nothing, Elize. I wish I did.”
She took my hand and squeezed it. I squeezed back. I told her about the carrier pigeons and hoped that she would send letters to me as well. She said that she would.
The next day passed in a blur. I helped as much as I could with the evacuation, assisted with packing, reacquainting myself with the pigeons in the flock, spending a few hours in the kitchen and seeing how things had been laid out and preserved for me. Starving would not be an issue.
“Here are some recipes,” George said, handing me some pieces of parchment. “For a beginner.”
I smiled and accepted the instructions, gratefully. I knew I would need them.
I spent the rest of my time with my ministers, finalizing my standing orders and thinking through various scenarios of what could happen. We wrote everything down, plans and then contingency plans on those plans.
The castle felt unusually quiet when I went to sleep, as if everyone were collectively holding their breath. I didn’t sleep much.
I woke before dawn and went down to the tree. I had known there was a chance that another attack would strike on the day of the evacuation, since I had called it for three days from the fifth attack. And sure enough, the Hollow was consistent. A city in the south was hit, a branch deadened to my fingertips, the leaves seeming to fade before my eyes. I tended the tree, placed the exact location on the map, and informed the ministers to dispatch soldiers to that city once the evacuation was complete. Once that was all done, I went to the front hall to say goodbye as everyone left.
I stood at the front gates all day, grasping hands, giving hugs, taking well wishes as people passed through the gates and left. Some were crying, all were grim. Whether they really understood why I was doing this, I could not tell, but they had accepted it and I was grateful for that.
Moriel was one of the first people to leave. He would need time to put the spell in place around the castle. He bowed and was lost in the throng of people. I knew I would miss him.
Helaine was the last, tears silently streaming down her face. Lillian stood beside her, hand in hand.
“Let me stay,” she had asked every night since I’d informed her of the plan.
I had told her no, every time, explaining how I could not bear to watch her be hollowed out and killed, that I needed her to leave so that she could be safe. I told her I couldn’t very well keep her here without Lillian, it would break their hearts to be parted, and keeping two people with me was an even greater risk I refused to take.
I was worried she would begin to argue with me again. I had managed to not cry as everyone passed through the gates, but if Helaine started to fight me, I didn’t think I would be able to keep it together.
But she didn’t. She simply stood before me and curtsied. When she rose, I embraced her, and she hugged me back tightly. I could feel her tears landing on my shoulder. I swallowed tightly. She stepped away from me and I smiled as best I could at her. She smiled back and nodded. Lillian reached out a hand and I grasped it, squeezing it, before letting go. Together they turned and left. I watched them walk down the avenue from the palace walls to the city beyond, arm in arm, leaning on and leading each other.
I went to one of the giant doors of the gate and began to yank it closed. It was very heavy, but eventually I got enough momentum and it shut with a loud clang. I moved to the other door and as it was closing shut, I saw Helaine looking back at me, watching me. The door shut with another clang, shutting her out, shutting me in.
The gates had a simple lock on it, since the palace walls and doors were usually heavily guarded. I turned the lock and once I had, I could feel a spell closing over it, a racing electricity scurry across the metal and the wood and the stone walls, shutting out the rest of the world and keeping me protected within.
I turned my back on the door and looked at the empty hall. I almost expected to hear the sounds of the bustling palace, but I was alone now, utterly and completely alone.
Chapter Nine
I had never kept a diary before, but I started one on the day of the evacuation. I was in my chambers, with a candle I had found and lit myself, and sat at my desk with a small book full of empty pages in front of me. I figured someday, when this was all over, I would want a record of what had happened, what I had done, during this time alone. The only person who could record that for me now was me.
After everyone had gone, I had wandered the empty halls, almost expecting to see people around every corner. It was so strange that the only sounds were my own footsteps. The castle usually felt so small, with so many people bustling about and working and living. But now it felt so large and I felt so tiny.
The cooks had prepared some meals for me, preserved in magic by Moriel, so that I would be set for a few days until I got my footing in the kitchen. I was grateful for this, particularly when dinner time came, and I realized I had not eaten a full meal all day and the very idea of cooking made me want to curl up with exhaustion. I sat in the kitchen and ate a plate of cold meat and bread. The sound of my chewing seemed inordinately loud.
I recorded all of this on the first page of the diary, making sure to mark the date. I liked to think about how I would read this diary at some point in the future. It was an idea I clung too, because if I were to read this diary in the future, it would mean we had won. The Hollow would have been defeated, Espera would have survived, and I would be alive to reread my diary in future days.
I woke up chilled the next morning. It took me a moment to realize why. There was no fire in the grate, no low embers burning to chase away the early spring air. As I stared at the empty grate, I thought about how I used to never notice a servant coming in to light a fire in the morning. I had never appreciated it until then. I smirked. I had a feeling by the time this was over, I was going to be incredibly appreciative of all the things I used to take for granted that other people did for me. This was only the first.
I was glad I had a supply of simple dresses, the ones I wore to look after the tree. I could get in and out of those on my own. As I picked one out of my wardrobe, I realized I wouldn’t be able to wear any of my other garments, since they all needed someone else’s assistance to get in them. I quickly counted the number of dresses I had that were clean. Helaine had made sure all my clothing was cleaned before the evacuation, so I had an accurate number of how many outfits I had before I would need to wash them. I had learned where the laundry rooms were in the palace only two days ago.
It occurred to me that I could go about in whatever I wanted. I didn’t have to get dressed up. No one would see me. I could stay in my dressing gown or even my nightgown all day. I could walk around in just slips and chemises. There was no one but myself to get dressed up for. It was an appealing thought, to stay in my nightgown all day, but I dismissed this. I wanted somethings to remain normal, if that were possible.
I selected my gown and then went to wash up. I was too impatient to warm up water, so I washed in cold water, which made the process very quick. But I felt better and more awake for being clean.
I went to the kitchen. I didn’t want to go to the tree on an empty stomach, which was already beginning to grumble. George had given me the rundown, so I knew where there was wood to get a fire going. Moriel had given me some enchanted stones for fire-starting, so I had a small blaze going in the hearth easily. I set a pot of water to boil. One of the recipes George had left was for porridge. It was simple enough. I took a measurement of oats and waited for the water to boil. Once it had, I poured the oats in, but too quickly, causing some of the water to jump and scald my hand.
I rushed over to the pump and splashed cold water over my hand. When it finally didn’t feel like it was burning anymore, I stopped pumping the water. I didn’t know enough about burns to tell how bad mine was, but the side of my palm where the water had struck still smarted. I wondered if it would leave a mark.
I quickly went back to the pot. Grabbing a spoon, I gave the oats a stir, the water having mostly been absorbed by now. I felt something catch on the spoon as it grazed the bottom of the pot. Could I have burned the porridge? It looked like how the cooks usually served it, so I carefully removed the pot from the fire and ladled the mixture into a bowl. I filled the pot with some water, so cleaning would be easier later and doused the fire. I came back to the mixture and tried a tentative spoonful. Sure enough, there was the bitterness of burnt oats to it.
I hung my head. How had I managed to mess up a food as simple as porridge? But no one had accounted for my own clumsiness and carelessness to get myself burned on my first cooking attempt.
I fetched the sugar and added a spoonful, which managed to mask the burnt flavor just enough that I could eat the whole bowl. I washed it down with several cups of water.
I brought all the dishes over to the huge basin that served for washing and then brought over some buckets of water. It didn’t take me as long as I had expected to wash all the dishes, including the pot, but the front of my dress was soaking wet by the time I was finished. I shook my head as I filled up the buckets for the tree and lugged them out to the courtyard. I could manage that every day without getting myself drenched, but not washing dishes.
I was relieved to be out in the courtyard. Here was something I knew how to do, and I could do well. There was a comfort in moving amongst the branches, inspecting the leaves, watching the roots soak up the water. The six deadened sections were still jarring, but I did notice slight pulses in the first and second spots. It wasn’t enough to make me happy, but it was enough to give me some hope.
Once I was done with the tree, I went to my father’s study and wrote my first report to my ministers. I updated them on the tree. I didn’t feel the need to include anything about how I was doing. Clearly, I was still alive, as evidenced by my writing. Once I’d written and sealed the note, I walked through the empty halls towards the south tower, where the pigeon flock roosted.
I hadn’t been to this part of the south tower in years, until recently. There were birds everywhere. I wasn’t afraid of birds in general, but so many in such a small space made me nervous. I was glad I only had to come up here twice a day, in the morning to send out my message and in the evening to receive the return message from my ministers. I had wondered about feeding the birds, but the keeper and Moriel assured me that the birds were capable of leaving the palace to forage for themselves, but would return palace with ease, since it had been magically imprinted on their minds as home.
I went over to one of the open windows and trilled, as the keeper had taught me, to call one of the birds to me. As far as I could tell, none of them responded. I tried again. I felt silly, making sounds at birds and expecting a response and not getting one. After the third try, I wanted to give up, but I knew I couldn’t. My ministers needed to hear from me, and I knew Helaine would be waiting as well. I tried a fourth time and at last, a pigeon flew to my outstretched hand. I quickly tied the note to the pigeon’s leg, before it flew out the window. The bird seemed to bob in the air, and I jolted forward, worried the bird would collapse under the weight of the paper, but a moment later, the pigeon seemed to find its wings on the air and soared away. I sighed with relief.
“Ow!” I whirled around, clutching my hand. Another bird had landed beside me on the ledge and had begun to nibble on my hand. I made a quick retreat from room and hurried down the stairs, before I inspected my hand. The bird had broken the skin but hadn’t drawn blood.
I returned to the kitchens. I wanted to wash my hand and it would be lunchtime soon anyway. I was already beginning to feel hungry. I wasn’t eager to try cooking again, still feeling the burn on my hand, but I wasn’t keen on being hungry either.
After washing my hands from the birds, I looked over the recipes that George had left. They were all simple, but even so, many looked beyond my abilities, at that point. There was a recipe for stewed beans and rice with some vegetables. The basic instruction was to add everything to a pot and let it cook together until everything was done. I figured I could manage that pretty well.
I was wrong.
I somehow managed to undercook some parts and overcook others at the same time. When I was finally too hungry to wait any longer, I could barely stomach it, from the texture and lack of taste. Salt made it bearable, but I needed several cups of water to wash it down again. But I forced myself to eat every bite. I wasn’t going to waste food.
I washed the dishes again and then sat at one of the tables. What was I going to do now? The next thing I had to do was make and eat dinner and wait for my ministers’ reply. Dinner wouldn’t be for hours and neither would be their response, based on the timing we had planned before the evacuation. There were several hours to fill.
I decided to explore the palace. I hadn’t been able to roam freely in years, what with lessons and royal duties and not wanting to be in people’s ways. I started from the places I knew and worked my way outward. I had finished most of the ground floor, looking into every room and closet and hallway, by the time I was tired and needed to stop. I would pick up where I’d stopped the next day again.
I was on my way back to my chambers, when I passed by the front doors. I paused, remembering the sight of everyone leaving the day before. Everyone was just beyond those close doors. Taking a deep breath and shaking my head, I returned to my chambers and flopped onto my bed.
I wished I could speak to my father. I had tried several times again since we’d first discovered the Hollow was cutting off the mirror’s communications. Each time failed, as I’d known it would but hoped it wouldn’t. The relay setup amongst the wizards had been organized just in time for me to send a message to my father on the day of the evacuation, but not in time to get a return message, since Moriel had suspected the relay system to take at least a day. By the time my message would have reached my father, Moriel’s protection spell was active, cutting off all magical contact. Any message from my father would come through a pigeon now, if the relay setup actually worked to begin with. I wished we’d gotten it started sooner so I could have tested it before shutting myself in and the world out. My heart ached, wanting to talk to my father, to hear his voice, to feel his comforting presence, and I closed my eyes trying to push the feeling out.
I woke up an hour later, utterly disoriented. I never took naps in the middle of the day. But once I remembered, I went to the south tower again. Sure enough, there was a pigeon waiting by the window, with a note tied to its leg. I hurried in, removed the note, and hurried out. I went down to the study to read it.
The ministers had dispatched the soldiers to the last attacked city. All the wizards and my father had been informed of the current state of affairs. Reserves had been called up to help the places struck by the Hollow.
I was impressed that someone could write so tiny and so much on small slip of paper. But I was glad for the update.
On the back of the paper, Helaine had left a small note, telling me to take care. I grinned, imagining her demanding the official piece of communication to add her own words and the argument with the ministers that had probably ensued and which she had obviously won.
I returned to the kitchen once more. I wondered if I would have been more excited about the prospect of food if I knew for certain I wouldn’t somehow manage to mess it up, or if this was simply part of the process of constantly having to make your own food.
I caved and ate some more of the preserved food already made. I was too hungry and tired to make a third cooking attempt that day. But I ate sparingly, just enough to fill me, though I felt I could have eaten much more.
I returned to my room and wrote my account of the day. I marveled that, despite doing so little, as compared to a normal day, I felt so much more exhausted than I’d ever felt before. I fell into bed and thought I would fall asleep instantly, but my mind wouldn’t calm down. It seemed like hours before I actually fell asleep.
I woke up and I was sure this day would be better than the day before. After all, I wasn’t doing anything for the first time now.
I really should have known better. I wasn’t going to become any sort of expert in anything in a day, or even in a week, or maybe even ever.
I wasn’t sure the food I managed to make could really be called food, it seemed barely edible. I somehow got water all over me as I was moving about the kitchen, that my dress was damp practically all day. And I burned myself, again.
One of the pigeons flew so close to my face, as it passed by, that I felt the wings on my cheeks. I was so startled that I stumbled over my own legs. I was only bruised, luckily, and deeply mortified. It wasn’t falling down a flight of stairs, but so much for being able to stay on my feet, like I had been so sure I could.
I explored more of the castle, working my way up to the next floor. But I was already beginning to grow bored of that, many of the rooms and hallways and closets looking exactly like the ones I’d already seen.
The tree was the same as it had been the day before, which was not good, but not bad either. I would take it.
I woke up the next day and had to check my diary to see how many days had passed. Time was beginning to blur, since I didn’t have my usual routine to help me maintain my internal clock and rhythm of life.
It was the third day from the evacuation. If the Hollow maintained its pattern, it would have struck a town in the east today.
I hurried through my bath of cold water and went downstairs to the kitchens. Still shivering, I grabbed a crust of bread for my breakfast and filled the buckets for the tree. If another place had been hit, I wanted to inform my ministers immediately.
The Hollow was nothing if not consistent. Sure enough, there was another dead spot upon the tree. I finished my inspection and watered the roots and listened to the trunk. I could feel a note of distress in the sounds of the town square now, faint but there. My hands were trembling as I backed away from the tree. I had never heard it sound like that before.
I took a leaf from the new spot and went to my father’s study. Hand raised over the capital, I released the leaf and watched it drift to a town in the northeast.
Horror flooded through me.
The Hollow had been consistent. It attacked every three days. It was moving in a spiral. It took four attacks, one in each of the cardinal directions, to complete a revolution around the capital.
Part of me, conscious or otherwise, must have assumed the Hollow would keep that course – four attacks to a revolution of the spiral inching closer inwards to the capitol. That it would stay constant and in that, I could estimate how much time I would have before the Hollow arrived at my doorstep. I had constructed a vague timeline in my head, a guess of how long it might take for the Hollow to reach the tree, how many points on the map would be hit before it struck here. I’d thought the tree and I might have a couple of months before we had to face the Hollow.
But now the Hollow had attacked in the northeast, jumping beyond the quarter of a revolution to attack due east where I had expected. The Hollow wasn’t sticking to quarter jumps, four strikes to one revolution around the map anymore. The Hollow might leap in measurements that were beyond estimation now. That vague timeline I had in my mind was no longer reliable.
I sat down and began to cry. I hadn’t cried since the evacuation, but I couldn’t stop myself now. I was tired. I was cold. I was hungry. I was horrified. I was scared. I was alone.
And I didn’t know what I was going to do.
So I cried. And when after a while, that didn’t seem to make me feel any better, I screamed. I heard my voice bouncing off the walls, echoing in my ears.
And I just kept on screaming and screaming.
Chapter Ten
“I think we might have a ghost, Mother,” I said, as I walked around the tree one sunny morning.
A little over a week had passed since the day I had screamed in my father’s study. Something had been released that day and I’d felt a bit lighter ever since. I still felt alone and scared and horrified, but I wasn’t as afraid to acknowledge those emotions as I realized I had been before then. It made for a strange kind of better.
And somethings had gotten better since then. I was now able to cook some basic meals, without injuring myself and with an edible result. They were the most basic recipes I could imagine, but I took my small delights where I could find them. And it felt good to not always be hungry or afraid of the kitchen.
I’d found a routine that seemed to be working, which had also been a relief to me. It helped stabilize me. My mornings consisted of breakfast, tending the tree, and reporting to my ministers. I then made myself lunch and took a stroll around the palace, if only to get some minimal exercise. I would then take a few hours to read, keep up with my lessons on history and commerce. I tried to find books on the Hollows, but I wasn’t able to find any in the library. Moriel must have taken all of them with him to do his own research, I assumed. At some point in the afternoon, I would return to the south tower to get my ministers’ message from the pigeons. I would take whatever notes I needed based on their report. Helaine and Elize sometimes included messages of their own, which were always welcome to read. Then it would be time for dinner, which took time to make, consume, and clean. After that, I returned to my chambers and wrote my diary entry and then fell into bed, utterly exhausted.
The diary had become invaluable to me. It helped me keep track of the days. While I was glad for a routine and its stability, it also produced monotony. If I didn’t have the diary to help me, I wouldn’t have been able to differentiate between days. I probably would have lost track of normal time all together. I could have easily fallen into the marking the passage of time by the Hollow.
The Hollow had struck twice more. I saw the distance between attacks lengthening and the spiral drawing closer inwards to the palace. The Hollow remained steady in its internal timeline, attacking every three days. If I hadn’t been keeping a diary, I imagined that three-day cycle would have become my new metric of time. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want the Hollow to take more away from anyone in Espera, including myself, by stealing my sense of time.
“I’ve been hearing echoes, every so often,” I said aloud, as I watched the tree’s roots soak up the water as I poured. “And not from me. There’s no one else in the castle though. Do ghosts exist, Mother?”
I had started talking aloud several days ago, if only to hear something new. It felt odd, talking to myself, narrating my actions for only me to hear. It somehow made it easier to talk if I imagined I had an audience. The people I wanted to talk to most couldn’t possibly hear me. I missed my father deeply, Helaine and Elize after him. The notes from the women were invaluable gifts, but notes could not replace embraces and spoken words. Talking to them in spirit felt even stranger than just talking to myself.
So I’d somehow fallen into talking to my mother. And once I’d started, I found it hard to stop. Even as I did the most mundane things, like cooking or washing my clothes, which had been a trial all its own, I told my mother about my life, all the things she had missed in the last seven years. It felt good to speak, to hear a voice. And it felt good to pretend that someone might be listening and might even care. I knew it was pretend, but I let myself fall into the dream regardless. After all, it might have been possible that my mother’s spirit was watching over me. The idea gave me comfort.
“I’ve noticed some changes in the kitchen and its supplies, from the time I’ve left in the morning to when I come back later in the afternoon. Like a chair moved. Or a bag of beans opened. I guess it could be something like mice, but that doesn’t make sense. Neither does a ghost, really, I suppose. But what else could it be, Mother? No one else is here.”
The tree rustled, seemingly in response. I smiled weakly. The tree still reacted to my presence, as if nothing had changed, and it still made me smile a little. The tree was really like an old friend. I sometimes wished it could speak to me, tell me how I could fix everything.
The tree was still alive. It was all I could really say for my almost two weeks alone. I’d managed to keep the tree alive. But it wasn’t thriving by any means. I could feel its distress, even in the parts that the Hollow had not attacked. Sparks were coming back to the older locations, the people we’d sent to help doing their jobs. But it was still faint. I began to worry it wouldn’t be enough.
The Hollow was getting closer to the palace. I guessed I had four weeks, maybe a little more than a month, at most, before it arrived. I had hoped for a few months and that was no longer possible it seemed.
I told my ministers my concerns and requested an update from Moriel. I hoped he was making progress with his research. But I hadn’t heard anything yet. The recent notes I had sent had asked for news from him, with no response. As I left the tree for the study, I turned over some phrases in my head to make it obvious to my ministers and Moriel that I would not tolerate silence on this matter and demand a response.
Aside from this one point, my ministers were performing their duties perfectly. Our communications were delayed compared to when things were normal, which was a hindrance and annoyance, but our system was working. I made a note in my diary one evening that I would need to acknowledge these women and men when all of this was done. There were many people I would need to acknowledge when all of this was done.
Least of all the people who kept the palace running smoothly every day. I was learning the hard way what it was like when one cog in a wheel was missing by taking out all the cogs and still expecting the wheel to turn. The wheel was turning, but not nearly as efficiently. I was determined not to take that for granted ever again.
I drifted around the palace that afternoon. I found myself in the practice rooms, where I had once watched soldiers and guards spar with each other. Wooden practice swords and real metal ones were lined up along the walls, along with axes and poles and spears and weights and all manner of weaponry. I could almost hear the clack and swish of wood and metal swinging and crossing with each other.
I picked up a small wooden practice sword. It was bit longer than the length of my arm and heavier than I had expected. I could hold with one hand, but only just. I twisted my wrist in a casual swing and nearly dropped it. Clutching the hilt with both hands, I swung again. The air swished past me and I swung again and again, faster and faster. After a while, I had to stop. My arms felt boneless and I was drenched in sweat, but I was smiling.
It wasn’t made of metal, but I hadn’t come close to taking my own head off with the practice sword once. Small delights.
I left to drift some more in the hallways, but I kept the sword with me. It made for a decent walking stick and when my arms stopped tingling from fatigue, I would swing and take a few steps, as I had remembered seeing the knights do in training.
I chuckled at myself. If anyone could see me now, they would have laughed too, I probably looked ridiculous. I didn’t care.
I walked around aimlessly, until I found myself at the front doors, again. That first week, every day, I’d found myself coming here, as if my feet had a will of their own. Those closed doors stood shut in front of me, taunting me. All I needed to do was open them. Open them and people would come back. Open them and I wouldn’t be alone anymore.
Open us, they seemed to say to me, open us, open us, open us.
One day, I had gone so far and gotten so close as to even touch the doors, feel the wooden grain underneath my fingers. But that one touch had felt like fire. I had jumped back, ashamed at how close I had come to giving in.
Evacuation had been the right move. The Hollow was certainly coming here and everyone who lived in the palace would be spared that deadly encounter. It was the right move. For my people, I couldn’t be so weak. I couldn’t give in.
The next day I had brought chairs and lined the corridor several feet back from the door. I wanted to prevent myself from getting close to the doors again, but not put up a barricade that would truly hinder me if I needed to get out. The chairs were just a reminder enough to keep back, to stay true to this course of action.
I sat down on one of the chairs. I closed my eyes and dreamed of the day when I would get to open those doors. They would open, and the fresh air would flood in and I would run, run down the road all the way to the city and its people below and find Elize and Helaine and Moriel and my ministers and everybody and anybody else.
I would run until I met my father on the road home. How I missed him. I missed everyone, but him most of all. It hadn’t been this bad when he first left for Darent, because I had been able to talk to him, thanks to the mirror. I hadn’t realized how much I had depended on the mirror to keep my father close to me until the Hollow had cut off that line communication. I wanted to hear my father’s voice more than anything in the world.
“I miss him so much, Mother,” I whispered to no one.
That’s when I heard something. It was a faint sound, a light patter, as if something were walking carefully. It could have been a small animal, like an ambling dog. It didn’t sound like scurrying mouse, but I supposed it could be that as well. But the palace rarely had rodents, a spell cast long ago keeping all but the most determined out, and all the dogs and cats of the palace had left with their owners. I supposed something could have fallen over in a room somewhere, gravity taking over after weeks in a careful balance, but it hadn’t sounded like something falling.
And if it were, I wouldn’t be hearing that falling sound again and closer this time.
I sidled up to the wall and inched towards the corridor beyond. The sound was coming closer. I gripped the wooden sword in my hands. I didn’t know if it would have any effect on a ghost, or whatever this was, but I felt better for having something in my hands to swing.
My heart was pounding in my chest. I could hear it so loudly, I wondered if whatever was approaching could hear it too. It was coming closer and closer until it seemed to be right around the corner from where I stood.
With a shout, I jumped out and swung the sword. The wood made contact, I felt the jarring in my arms.
The something yelped in surprise and pain and dropped to the ground with a loud thud. Blinking rapidly, because I must have closed my eyes, my vision slowly cleared.
There was a person on the ground, a man. He was clutching his side where I had hit him. He slowly raised himself up until he was sitting. I kept the sword aloft in front of me. How had he gotten in here? Who was he?
“Begging your pardon, your highness, but what did you do that for?”
I knew that voice. He turned his face to look up at me.
The sword drooped in my hands. My eyes went wide. It took me a moment to find my voice.
“Moriel?”
Chapter Eleven
“Hello, princess.” He had the audacity to smile at me.
“Moriel…what are you doing here? How did you get in here?”
He stayed seated on the ground, one hand massaging where I must have hit him. The sword did have some weight to it, and I had swung it pretty hard. But it served him right, for scaring me and for being here in the first place.
“What do you think I’m doing here? I’m doing my work and making sure you’re all right.”
“But…but I saw you leave!”
“Yes…and then I came back in. Those doors,” he said, gesturing his head towards the front gates. “Aren’t the only ways in and out of the palace. I left, snuck back in, and enacted the spell from inside.”
“But how did you know when everybody had left?” I knew there were more important issues to deal with than the logistics, but my mind seemed to be stuck on these details first.
“Helaine and I set up a speaking spell between us. Being the last one out, once the doors were closed, she could tell me to enact the spell.”
“Helaine? She knew about this?” I thought about how Helaine had not asked to stay as she left, the one time she hadn’t said anything about it. I thought it had been her acceptance of the situation, but maybe it had actually been because she’d known I wasn’t going to be alone, after all.
Moriel slowly got to his feet, still feeling out where I’d hit him. I wondered if he was playing that up for my sake, so I wouldn’t hit him again. I was beginning to consider it. I wanted to whack at something, I was feeling so frustrated.
“Did you really think we were going to leave you here by yourself, your highness?”
Now I was really considering it. I lifted the sword again and was gratified in seeing Moriel take a step back. “You conspired behind my back to disobey my orders?”
“Easy now, that swing of yours hurt. I thought you didn’t know how to use a sword.”
“I don’t.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Don’t change the subject! I gave you all a royal command and—”
“Yes, we disregarded it. And while I am sorry for that, I can’t be sorry for doing it. We were worried.”
“I was doing fine on my own!”
“Which is why you didn’t know I was here until now. If that hadn’t been the case, I would have made my presence known sooner.”
“What, so you’ve been spying on me?”
“I like to think of it of keeping an eye on, not spying exactly.”
I raised the sword to swing.
“Wait, wait, wait!” he backed away quickly, arms raised. “I wasn’t spying on you, honest! Helaine just wanted assurance you were doing all right. That’s all!”
I kept the sword raised, but I didn’t swing, not yet at least. Because, while I was furious, at their apparent lack of faith in me to take care of myself and for being watched secretly, I could also understand it. I understood why Helaine would have done this and why Moriel had agreed. That didn’t make me any less angry and hurt, but it did change my outlook on it.
“Where have you been this whole time? I’ve been wandering around most of the palace. I never saw you.”
“You never came up to the north tower. Or to backrooms of the library. That’s where I’ve been most of the time, working on the Hollow timeline.”
He was right, I hadn’t explored those areas of the palace, and I hadn’t spent much time in those vicinities. He might have been making tons of noise and I would not have heard it. I now thought of where I had first noted the presence of a ghost and it had been in the kitchens and corridors near there, a part of the palace where even he would have to go.
“Have you found anything?” I didn’t want to be sidetracked, but I couldn’t resist knowing if he’d found out something about the Hollow. It was steadily getting closer.
He sighed. “Not yet. I’m still reconstructing its advancement from last time. It’s taking much longer than I had expected.”
My shoulders drooped. I could have almost forgiven his disregard for my commands if something good had come from it.
“How have you been giving updates to Helaine? I thought magic couldn’t get through your protection spell.”
“It can’t, not even mine. I’ve been sending a pigeon every day, letting her know you’re still alive. No tumbles down the stair, no choking on food. It was a bit tricky, getting over there without you seeing me. And the kitchens. I’m guessing that’s what made you think someone might be here, or have you been waving swords into thin air around corners lately?”
“I noticed things were slightly off, recently. I wondered if it could be a ghost.”
“Why would you swing a sword at a ghost? It would go straight through it.”
“I don’t know! I heard something coming and I needed to do something and I had the sword with me so I used it!”
“All right, all right,” Moriel said, hands raised.
I guessed my swung had packed more of a punch than I had thought. I would have smiled at that except I was still angry. Even with the best of intentions, Moriel and Helaine had still disobeyed a royal order. They’d lied to me. And they’d underestimated me.
The sting of that one hurt the most. While it had been painful and slow going these past weeks, learning all the things I had never had to do for myself before, I had learned. I had failed and then I had learned. I was making progress. And I was doing all right on my own. I had found pride in that, a sense of accomplishment. To see now that these people whom I trusted and respected did not do the same for me, had not believed in me, felt like my own punch to the gut.
“It wasn’t like that, Princess Adira. We do believe in you.”
I glared at him. I didn’t like that he had read my thoughts so clearly on my face.
“We do. Helaine and I and everyone else in the palace and this kingdom believe in you. But I think, in your desire to protect the people who live here and do the right thing, you also forgot something.”
“And what was that?”
“That this is our home too. This kingdom, this palace,” Moriel gestured to the walls around us, “is our home. It’s my home. I know you evacuated everyone to protect them, but you also robbed us of our…right to fight for our home. To fight for our kingdom and protect our home.”
He was right, I hadn’t considered that. I hadn’t thought about how my actions may have made some of my people feel helpless, put in a position where they could do nothing. I still stood by my decisions, but even so, I could feel sorry for having made people feel that way.
“I’m sorry for that. But it doesn’t excuse your actions.”
“Perhaps not, but maybe it explains them. Helaine and I knew how adamant you were about being alone, shouldering this burden all by yourself. And we were adamant that you shouldn’t. Between the two of us, it was pretty clear I would have the easier time staying out of your way, and that I would be able to help by being here, if only to continue my work. I am sorry for the deception and for disobeying your orders. But I still stand by my actions.”
I looked at him. His face and body were relaxed, but I could see the intensity in his eyes. He wasn’t going to back down from this. I wondered if this was how I had looked when I had first told all my ministers and Helaine and him about my intentions, with the royal crown on my head.
“I should make you leave,” I said. Having him here would put him in danger of the Hollow.
“Make me? Like you could make me.”
“Oh really?” I jabbed the sword at him and he jumped. I laughed and then so did he. “It would be a royal command and this time I’d make sure you stay out.”
He sighed. “I suppose you should. But will you?”
I swallowed. “I know I should. It’s just…” I bit my lip and looked out towards the closed doors, dark in shadows.
“Just what, your highness?”
“It’s just I’ve been so lonely.” I felt my face crumple as if the words were pulled from me, taking all my force with it. Tears welled up in my eyes and I swallowed sharply to keep them at bay.
It hadn’t really occurred to me just how alone and lonely I had felt these weeks, until now, until Moriel was here and I was with someone else and talking to a real other person and feeling his presence and breathing the same air as he was. The realness of him was overwhelming. And though his mere presence here irritated me, knowing my command had been disobeyed, I didn’t want to think about sending him away. Being alone again. And this time knowing, really knowing, that I was truly alone.
Despite my efforts, a few tears streamed down my cheeks, leaving trails. I took a deep breath, which shuddered through me.
“Umm…your highness…Princess Adira…may I hug you?”
I looked up at Moriel, saw the concern and hesitation. I appreciated both.
“Yes…yes, you may…yes, please.”
Moriel stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. My head rested against his shoulder. I felt the tears drop from my cheeks onto him. My body shuddered once more, but this time there was comfort as well.
And I realized then that, along with not seeing or talking to a soul for weeks, I had also not touched another human in that time. I had never thought that I was someone who needed touch, until now. But I had people touching me in various ways, during a regular day. My maids helping me dress, nobles and petitioners taking my hand, my father embracing me. All of that was gone. I hadn’t realized that I had missed all of that, the connection it signified and gave.
I stepped away from him and wiped my face with my hand. His arms dropped to his side. Before I could look up at him and say anything, my stomach growled. I was hungry.
Moriel started coughing, clearly trying not to laugh. But then I was laughing, and he stopped trying to hide his laughter. I didn’t really understand why this was so funny, but it was the funniest thing I had heard in a while. My sides started to hurt from laughing so much.
“Let’s go the kitchens. I’ll cook,” he said, when we had finally stopped laughing.
“You cook?” We fell into step through the hallways.
“Of course. It’s one of the first things we’re taught as wizards.”
“Really?” I didn’t know much about wizard training, except that it started young and was intense. Cooking didn’t seem like something wizards needed training in.
“Yes. Before we learn any kind of potion making, they need to make sure we can be trusted around a fire and knives and know how to follow a recipe and get it exactly right. Not to mention, it’s good to know for real life.”
That seemed plausible enough to me. “Perfect. You cook, I’ll clean.”
Moriel paused and stretched out his hand. “Deal.”
I took it and we shook before resuming our course.
“Though I’d be happy to teach you as well, if you’d like.”
“Perhaps. If I don’t kick you out after this meal.”
“You’re not going to kick me out, your highness.”
“Well, I might. It depends.”
“On what?”
“On how good a cook you are.”
Grinning at him, we entered the kitchen and got to work.
Chapter Twelve
As it turned out, Moriel was a fabulous cook and a good teacher. The meals he made were utterly delicious and satisfying, something I had not felt when I cooked for myself.
Over the week, we settled into a routine. I would cook breakfast, since I was up before he was and I could manage to make that pretty well. I would be tending the tree by the time he stumbled downstairs. When I mentioned this to him, he joked that it was one of the first times in his life he could sleep late, since he didn’t have any other place he had to be anymore. He would eat his breakfast and wash the dishes.
We would pass our mornings separately, until we met in the kitchen around lunchtime, where Moriel and I would cook together. Mostly it was Moriel cooking and instructing me on cooking skills and recipes. I was improving, which I took great pride in. I was no longer burning myself and I was better at keeping myself clean as I worked. I had been nervous before about using the sharp knives, in case I cut myself with no one here. Now, I was cutting and chopping things for every meal and getting faster and better by the day.
Most of the afternoon we spent apart as well, except for a few hours where we practiced some swordplay together. After that first day, once all the lunch dishes were dried and the messages sent to my ministers and the tree tended, we sat in the kitchen for a moment, when Moriel had risen from his seat, and declared, “Time to practice, your highness.”
“Practice? Practice what?”
“Why, your swordsmanship. If you’re going to swing a sword around corners, you should know how to do it properly.”
I laughed. “Fair enough. But on one condition.”
“What?”
“You stop calling me ‘your highness.’ If we’re going to be stuck here together, just the two of us, we should be on a first name basis, I believe.”
Moriel hesitated. “Very well…Princess Adira.”
I rolled my eyes and stood up. “No, Moriel. Just Adira.”
“I’m not sure I can do that. I am your subject after all.”
“You’re my friend as well. My friends call me Adira. But if you want to go that route, then fine. As my subject, I give you a royal order to call me by my first name.”
“I have flouted your royal orders before.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. I had made my peace with his presence, even though it was a clear disregard of my commands. I had also made it clear to him that it would be the one and only time I would tolerate it.
“All right,” he said and sighed. “Adira.”
I smiled. “There. Was that so hard?”
“Yes.”
I laughed. “Then come, maybe whacking at each other with sticks will make you feel better.”
We’d practiced for a couple hours every day since. At first, I simply needed to build up strength in my arms and my stamina. Carrying the buckets for the tree had only done so much. I found muscles I never knew existed and my lack of exercise in the past weeks had made weak. While we did that, Moriel also showed me the proper stances and grips, strikes and swerves, for swordplay.
“Why do you know all this?” I asked one day once we’d stopped. Dripping in sweat, I lay on the floor, my head tilted over so I could see where Moriel sat.
“It’s part of the wizard’s training.”
“Why though? It’s not magic.”
“No, but we are taught to be wary and careful when it comes to magic, particularly in combat. Magic takes a lot of power and concentration, two things that you don’t usually have in a fight. We’re also taught not to be reliant on magic, because if the day comes when magic fails you or you meet someone more powerful than you, that’s when you’re in big trouble. Being able to wield a sword and fire a bow could mean the difference between life and death.” Moriel stood up and offered a hand down to me.
“Fair enough.” I took his hand and he heaved me to my feet. “Is that why you don’t use magic for basic things? Like cooking and cleaning?”
Moriel nodded. “Yes. It’s absolutely possible to use magic like that, but it’s better not to. And besides, I like the mundaneness of cooking and cleaning. Gives me time to stop and think while still doing things with my hands.”
After our practices, we parted ways again, each to our own devices until dinner, where Moriel would cook and I would clean up. We would talk a bit before we went to our chambers for bed. Moriel still slept in his room in the north tower. I told him he could move to one of the many vacant rooms, closer to the kitchens and the libraries. While he appreciated the offer, he declined it, wanting the comforts of his own bed.
I wondered if propriety was also part of his decision to stay far away at night. It was not lost on me that I was alone in a castle with a man, just the two of us. I was not naïve, but I was also not scared or worried. Moriel was a gentleman and a friend. Nothing untoward would happen, I knew.
If it weren’t for the tree and the looming presence of the Hollow, everything could have been wonderful.
But the tree was on my mind, constantly. It was still alive, but I was beginning to doubt it would stay so. Too many areas were deadened. Some were coming back to life, but slowly, much too slowly to counterbalance newly deadened locations as the Hollow struck again and again and got closer and closer.
The spiral was on its fourth curl. I wish I knew how many more we had.
I said as much to Moriel one afternoon when I went to see him in the library before lunch. He had set up in one of the small rooms at the back of the library, where scholars would spend hours in study. He had a map of Espera laid out, pricked with pins. The pins varied in color. There appeared to be some kind of pattern to their position, but I couldn’t understand it. Beside the map, scrolls and books were piled haphazardly.
“Have you made any progress, Moriel?”
“Yes.” He gestured at the map.
“All I see are more pins today than yesterday. Surely by now you know something.”
“I’m sorry, Adira. I don’t. I’m almost through with this reconstruction.”
“And then what?” I was growing impatient.
“And then we’ll have an idea of how the Hollow moved last time.”
“What good will that do? The Hollow isn’t moving like it did last time and we know that already.”
“I don’t know what else you want me to do. I’m not in the field. I can’t study or provide you with practical ways to fight the Hollow. All I have is the history, which I’m hoping will give us some insight.”
I didn’t want insight. I wanted answers. I wanted practical ways to fight. With each passing day, I saw the tree weakening, bit by bit. Fear was growing in me, that I wouldn’t be able to keep the tree alive. Panic was spiking in me now and I didn’t know how to stop it. My panic was breeding anger.
“What good is insight, Moriel?” I snapped. “The Hollow is coming! Or haven’t you noticed?”
“I have noticed, Adira. And I understand your frustration, but I am working as hard and as fast as I can. In a couple of days, I should be completed with this and—”
“And what good will it do me then? This map can’t tell me how to defeat the Hollow, how to save the tree. It’s just a complete waste of space.”
Moriel was silent. A hard look crept into his eyes. Even in my anger, I could tell I had touched a nerve, though I couldn’t tell how. But I was too upset to care right then.
“My work is important, your highness,” he responded, stiffly and formally, a subject to his ruler, not a friend anymore. “Learning from the past can only help us with the present and prepare us for the future. If the tree should suffer in the interim, I am sorry for it, but do not lay your failures on my account.”
I stepped away from him, as if I’d been slapped. He stood, still and hard as a statue, glaring at me. I glared back for a moment, before turning on my heels and leaving, making sure to slam the door shut behind me.
Chapter Thirteen
Rage made me walk fast, trying to get as far away from the library and Moriel as I possibly could. I wished I could run out of the palace, barge past the line of chairs that still guarded the front doors and push them open wide and run and keep on running until the end of the world. How could he say such things to me? How dare he?
I went up to my chambers, the furthest away I could actually get with privacy, and slammed the door behind me, wishing the reverberations would find their way back to him. Too angry to sit still, I paced back and forth, my thoughts going in circles, building my anger.
But after a while, my legs became tired and I sat down on my bed. As my body stilled, my thoughts followed suit.
Whether I liked it or not, Moriel had been right. It hurt to admit it, even to myself, but it was the truth. I was scared that the tree would die on my watch. If the tree died, it would be the biggest failure of any ruler of Espera’s history. All my fears of failing my people and my kingdom were now linked to keeping the tree alive.
The tree was alive, but a pernicious voice in my head kept asking, for how long, for how long, for how long.
That was why I had snapped at Moriel. In the calmness of my room, I knew his work was important, that in our history there might be an answer for our future. But my impatience for an answer now, to be able to heal the tree and save my kingdom now, I had lashed out in anger at him.
It had not been fair. I felt sorry for that now. I was still annoyed that he had thrown my fears back in my face, but I couldn’t entirely blame him for it. I had provoked him, after all.
My stomach growled. Sighing, I got up and left for the kitchens. I wondered if Moriel would be there, or if we would eat separately today. We hadn’t done that since he showed up, but I wasn’t sure he would want to have a meal with me. If he didn’t want to see me right now, I would leave him alone until evening, then I would find him to apologize.
The smell of cooking onions reached my nose before I reached the kitchens. I stepped over the threshold. Moriel turned from the pot over the fire, a spoon in his hand. We stared at each other a moment.
“Food will be ready in a little bit.”
I nodded. “Can I help?”
Moriel shook his head and turned back to the pot. I went to the cupboards and got plates and utensils. I put them out on the table and looked over at him. He hadn’t moved. I sat down and waited.
Moriel usually taught me during lunchtime, so there was constant chatter about food and cooking. The silence felt unnatural, just the sounds of the food sizzling in the pot.
After what felt like ages, Moriel put a lid on the pot and sat down across from me. “It should be ready in half an hour or so.”
I nodded. “Look, Moriel—”
“I’m sorry, Adira,” Moriel said. He stared at his hands, resting in front of him on the table. “For what I said earlier. It was unnecessarily cruel and petty. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” He looked up at me then.
I smiled a little. “I appreciate that, but you were right. I should not have tried to blame you for my failures, which is what I was attempting to do. My failures will be my own and I will have to carry them.”
“I still shouldn’t have said what I did. I know your anxieties about failing and I used that to say something that would be hurtful, which was horrible of me. I am sorry.”
“I forgive you. And I’m sorry. For bothering you with my worries and for saying that your work was a waste of space. I know it isn’t. It is very important, and I shouldn’t have said that either.”
“Thank you and I forgive you.” He shook his head, staring down at his hands. “For all I try to keep my temper in check, some things are hard to ignore.”
“What do you mean? I saw that I said something that disturbed you, but I don’t know what exactly.”
Moriel sighed. “That my work was a waste of space.”
“Why would that you upset you? To that extent, I mean.”
Moriel paused for a moment before answering. “How much do you know about me? My family, where I’m from?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know much at all, actually.”
He nodded. “Everyone in my family is a wizard. It’s hereditary, after all. I’m the youngest. And my two older brothers have done amazing things in wizard circles, my parents as well. Everyone has accomplished something. It’s…it’s hard sometimes…living in the shadow of that. Wondering if you’ll ever do something of your own, especially when it seems like everyone has already done it before you. Wondering if you have any value of your own to contribute…or if you’re just a waste of space.”
I stared at him, horror coursing through me. I’d had no idea my careless choice of words could have such an impact on Moriel, that they’d be linked to a deeper well of emotion than I had ever fathomed. And I was horrified that Moriel could ever think this of himself.
“You are not a waste of space, Moriel.”
He smiled. “I know. Most days, I know, that is. Some days…it’s harder to remember that.”
“I am so sorry for what I said. I had no idea…”
“I know you didn’t. Which is why I should have kept my temper and I’m sorry that I didn’t.”
I felt like I was being let off the hook a bit too easy, but he had said he forgave me, and I forgave him, so I fought back the urge to apologize again.
“Moriel, how could you possibly think you’re a waste of space? Your work is incredible. You are an amazing person. I don’t understand it. Did your family—”
“Never,” Moriel assured me. “They love me very much. They never did or said anything to make me feel this way, except be extraordinary in themselves, which you can’t really blame them for. No, this is just something in my head, my own personal demon I will probably have to fight all my life. Much like you and failure.”
“What?”
“Come on, Adira. Has anyone ever actually told you you’re a failure?”
I thought for a moment. “No…but—”
“But what? You’re not a failure, nor will you be. It’s not in your nature to fail. And yet you’re still afraid that somehow you will fail. Why is that? What makes you think all of a sudden you’re going to fail?”
No one had ever asked me that before. My father, Helaine, and Elize had known my concerns about the future, about becoming queen, about being ready, but neither of them had questioned why I was so concerned. I was so anxious about being ready to be queen, because I was terrified that I would fail at it. And I was terrified I would fail, because…
I swallowed, my throat tightening. “Because if I fail, I don’t just fail me. I fail everyone. I let everyone down. My mother was such a good queen. The people loved her and Espera thrived while she ruled. I want to be a good queen too. I want to be a good queen and a good person and if I fail, I will be neither.”
“But whatever made you think you would fail in the first place? That it was an option for someone as capable as you? Surely you must know that if I had to bet on a person least likely to fail, it would be you.”
I shook my head. I tried to remember a time when I didn’t feel this way and I couldn’t think of anything. “I don’t know. Maybe knowing failure was never an option. Not because I’m least likely to do it, but because so much is at stake. Getting it wrong isn’t an option when lives are in the balance.”
Moriel studied me for a moment. “Our personal demons have far more power than any spell or weapon on earth to hurt us. And to hurt the people around us.”
I nodded. “How do we fight them then?”
Moriel shrugged. “They exist in our minds. It’s there that we have to fight them. Take away their power to hurt us.”
“Do you think that’s possible?” If I could get rid of the voice constantly telling me I would fail, I would do it without hesitation, but I didn’t think it would be that easy.
“I hope so. I’d like to think so. It’s certainly possible to learn to live with your demons. To recognize them, but not let them control you.”
“I guess we both have work to do on that front.”
Moriel smiled and nodded. We were silent for a moment.
“Moriel…the tree…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish my sentence. I wasn’t even sure where it was going.
“Is the tree alive?”
I nodded. “Barely.”
“Barely is still alive. As long as the tree lives, Espera has hope. As long as the tree lives, your people and your kingdom will survive. As long as the tree lives, you have not failed, Adira.” I looked directly into his eyes. “Not yet.”
“Don’t be afraid of a future that will never happen.”
“You sound so sure…”
“Because I am sure. You will not fail, Adira. You will find a way. The tree will find a way.”
“Life finds a way,” I murmured.
“What?”
“It’s something my mother used to say. Life finds a way. It’s in the nature of every living thing to fight for life.”
Moriel nodded. “And you are no exception.”
I smiled at him. A calmness settled over me. I was glad we were friends again and I was glad we talked. It was nice, getting to see this side of Moriel, learning about his past. It was a relief to express my fears, my demons, to someone who understood.
My stomach growled then, loud enough that it seemed to raise an echo. We both burst into laughter. When I finally caught my breath, I asked, “Any chance the food is ready?”
Chapter Fourteen
“Permission to enter?”
Moriel looked up from studying the map on the table. “It’s your castle and your library.”
“Yes, but it’s your workspace.”
Ever since the day of our fight, I was more careful about encroaching on Moriel’s work. He didn’t need my anxieties crowding him, especially now that I knew more about him. I’d actually asked that Moriel tell me one new thing about himself, every day. He was my friend, but our fight had shown me how little I knew about his life, even after becoming one of the palace wizards. He had agreed, in exchange for new things about myself. It was interesting trying to think of things about myself that he wouldn’t know, since it felt like so much of my life was regularly on display as a royal.
I walked into the library. I had just finished sending my pigeon off to my ministers. The tree was keeping steady in its weakened condition, but I tried to cling to what Helaine and Moriel had each said to me once – the tree was still alive.
“Any progress?”
Moriel leaned over the map on the table again. “I’ve mapped out the Hollow’s path last time. It spread from the southwest,” Moriel pointed to a blue colored pin. “And move steadily from there. I’ve coordinated the pins’ colors with dates to mark the Hollow’s progression.” The map was covered in pins, all shades of colors, which seemed to radiate out steadily in curved rows. I noticed a sheet of paper beside Moriel’s hands that listed out dates, a mark of color next to each. “The Hollow got as far as here,” he pointed to the last row, marked in black pins. “And then it just disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“Yes. I’ve been reading through accounts, trying to figure out what happened. They all say the same sort of thing. People felt the Hollow’s presence that morning, a weight on the land and the people, a digging out feeling, but by evening, it was gone. Vanished. And it didn’t return after that.”
“No one says why it stopped its attack?”
Moriel shook his head. “No one could account for it. There’s nothing to indicate what made it stop. I’m going through every account from that time that the library has. As far as I can tell, that day was just the same as every day before it and the day before that and the day before that. In fact, it was the same as the day after that, as well. But something must have happened. Why else would the Hollow just disappear?”
I looked down at the list of dates, marking when the Hollow first struck and when it vanished. I swallowed to see that it spanned several months. It had already been over a month since the Hollow had begun its attack this time. I didn’t want to think about this continuing for much longer. I didn’t think the tree could survive that. My eyes landed on the last date.
“Huh…”
“What?”
I looked up at Moriel. “Nothing, it’s just…Everyone said the last time the Hollow struck had been before I was born. But no one mentioned how close to my birth it had been.”
“Your birth?”
I pointed at the date. “My birthday is two days later.”
Moriel stared at the date on the sheet of paper, then back at the map, then back at the sheet again. “Interesting…”
“It could just be a coincidence.”
Moriel shook his head. “There are no coincidences in magic. One of the first things we learn as wizards. What time of day were you born?”
“Early. Just before dawn, I think.”
“Then your mother would have been in labor the day before, right?”
“Yes. Lillian was one of my mother’s midwives. Apparently, it was a long labor. Helaine teases that I’ve taken too long to get ready for the day from the very beginning.”
“Lillian?”
“Helaine’s wife.”
Moriel nodded, looking back at the list of dates. “The labor…was it long enough to have started on this evening?” Moriel pointed at the date on the paper.
I shrugged. “I suppose so. I never heard the details, but it might be possible my mother had her first contractions that evening. Why?”
“Well, it would be a curious coincidence, wouldn’t it? The queen goes into labor with the heir to the throne and the Hollow disappears.”
It would have been a strange coincidence. “So…what? My birth made the Hollow disappear? My mother or I might have died.”
“But she didn’t. And neither did you.”
“But we could have.” My mother had died in childbirth, the baby too, just seven years later.
“But you didn’t!”
“And what? The Hollow knew that?”
Moriel shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it did. It is magic after all. Maybe the Hollow somehow knew the queen and the heir to the throne of Espera would both survive. There’s so much we don’t know about the Hollow, you have to admit, it just might be possible.”
He was right on that point. We knew so little, I often felt like we were shooting in the dark, hoping we would hit any part of the target, least of all the center.
“Did anything happen when you were born?”
I paused for a moment. This part of the story I knew well, from Helaine, from my father, from my mother when she was alive, from the nobles and the people. “The tree bloomed. It blossomed that day and every day that year.”
Moriel sighed. “Which makes sense. Your family line is connected to the tree. The birth of the heir would have a huge effect on it.”
“And you think that caused the Hollow to vanish?”
Moriel took a deep breath. “I think it would be too huge a coincidence to not be linked…somehow, at least.”
I sat down in one of the chairs by the table. I could see how the chain of events lent itself to such a thought. But I was almost hoping he was wrong.
“Even if you’re right, this doesn’t help us now.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No, it doesn’t. Or are you suggesting I have a child so Espera would have an heir?”
My tone was scathing, my disdain at such a thought abundantly clear. Moriel’s eyes widened so quickly, it was clear he had not been thinking about that. I was mollified somewhat to see that.
“No! No, no, I was not suggesting that!” His face was flushed.
“Good. Because I only intend to have children with my life partner, someone whom I love and want to spend the rest of my life with, someone I want to raise a family and rule this kingdom with. And I intend to be married to that person before any children are in the picture.”
“I’m sure all of Espera would be very happy to hear that.” Moriel bored his eyes into the map, fixating on it so he wouldn’t have to look at me, I could tell.
I chuckled. “Yes, they would be. My father especially.”
Moriel laughed weakly as well. “Even if it were an option, there isn’t the time. The Hollow is almost here. We don’t have nine months.”
I nodded, swallowing sharply at the truth of those words. The Hollow was under a hundred miles away now, I could see the map from my father’s study clearly in my mind.
“So, like I said, how does this knowledge help us now?”
Moriel shook his head. “I’m not sure. If the birth of the heir to the throne really was what caused the Hollow to flee last time, I don’t know what we could possibly do to recreate that sort of momentous occasion. Magically or otherwise.”
“Is there any chance it was something else? Not my birth but something else entirely that stopped it?”
Moriel sat down in the chair opposite me. “I suppose it’s possible. But that just puts us back at the beginning again. I can’t find anything different about that day from every day before or after it.”
“Maybe the Hollow just got tired and gave up.”
“A nice thought, but that doesn’t seem likely. Nor does it help us. Or do you intend to just sit around and wait for it to get tired?”
“No,” I admitted, though it would have been nice if the Hollow would just quit on us. I would have welcomed that news with open arms. “So we’re stuck even if you are right.”
Moriel nodded and we sat in silence. It was a strange feeling, caught between elation at a breakthrough and despondency at not being able to do anything about it. I secretly hoped that Moriel would be wrong, that there was another explanation, that there was something else we could do to fight off the Hollow, that we just had to find it. But we didn’t know where to look for it, which didn’t help either.
“I feel so helpless.”
“You feel helpless?”
“Yes,” I said. “My people are out there,” I gestured to one of the windows, to the beyond that I still craved every day. Since Moriel made his presence known, I no longer sat by the front gates, but I still dreamed about opening those doors and running out to hug the world. “And I’m in here. They are suffering out there because of this thing and that pain is real and I’m doing nothing to stop it.”
And even if we had just discovered the secret to what happened last time, we couldn’t use the information. I felt powerless and small. I had been feeling like that more and more every day since Moriel arrived. With my loneliness abated, helplessness had surged in its place. I had been too fixated on feeling alone, my mind had been unable to handle another strong emotion like feeling powerless in the face of this horror. Now it could, and I did feel it.
“Your people understand that keeping the tree alive is important.”
“More important than their suffering?”
“Short of being out there yourself, you’re doing all you can, Adira. You’ve mobilized your soldiers, you’ve instructed your ministers, you’ve provided for your people as best you can, and now you’re keeping the tree alive. That’s all you can do right now. Being with the tree, keeping it alive, is more important than having your face on the frontlines. You said it to me yourself once. You would never see a battlefield, because someone has to tend the tree. Well, this is a battle. And you are doing what you need to do.”
“What if they hate me for it? If it were my partner or child or friend dying…” I could see resenting a princess who had stayed safe in her castle while others had tried to help. I almost hated myself for it.
“Some might,” Moriel conceded. “But I think most will understand that you did what you thought to be right at the time that would save the most people.”
I sighed. “I hope you’re right.”
We sat there for a long while in silence, the remnants of our conversation swirling in the air, each of us in our own thoughts. It felt good to sit and think and be still and be silent. It felt like a luxury I wasn’t sure I could really afford.
Chapter Fifteen
“Oh, come on!” I stamped my foot in frustration. I reached my hands behind my back again and pulled at the laces once more, but the angle was off, and I couldn’t pull them tight enough to be able to move onto the next row. I had managed the first few lacings until I made it to the middle of my back, which was proving difficult to reach and maneuver the laces. I tried a different placement of my hands with no success. Aggravated, I grumbled aloud and stamped my feet again.
There was a knock at my chamber door. “Adira, is everything all right?”
I sighed. “Yes, come in.”
The door opened behind me and I could only imagine Moriel’s reaction as he saw me struggling to lace up one of my dresses. I glanced over and saw what I had expected. He stood on the threshold, his eyes wide as if I’d grown an extra head.
“Adira, what are you doing?”
I turned back to the mirror and tugged at the laces again. “What does it look like? I’m trying to tie this dress.”
“I should leave—”
“I’m wearing a shift underneath, don’t be daft.”
I was utterly covered up, even my seemingly exposed back, the white shift in between my skin and the dress. It did feel strange though to have someone see me not fully clothed like this. No one, except my maids, ever saw me in less than perfectly dressed. And the only man to come to my rooms ever had been my father.
“Why are you here, anyway, Moriel?” He usually wasn’t in this part of the castle.
“I came to see if you wanted to practice.”
I nodded. That would explain it. We usually had our sword practice an hour after lunch, but after eating, I had come straight to my room and paced restlessly for a while. I had been feeling out of sorts all day, more than my new usual. I’d found myself drifting towards my wardrobe, so I’d finally opened it and ran my hands over the fine garments, the colorful silks, the soft velvets. Looking through them, I found one that seemed pretty easy to put on, only the laces in the back. It was one of my simpler fancy dresses, a rich purple color. I’d slipped on my shift, which was easy to put on by myself, and then had started on the dress, where I’d run into difficulty and extreme frustration.
“Adira, I’m…I’m confused.”
I glanced over at Moriel, who still stood on the threshold, one hand on the doorknob. “About what?”
“Why are you doing this? I mean, why are you trying to wear that?”
I sighed and let go of the laces. I placed my hands on my hips and studied my reflection. Now that my face wasn’t scrunched in aggravation, I could almost see a princess in the mirror, someone I almost recognized.
“I wanted to feel…different.”
“I’m sorry?”
I looked over at Moriel. “I’ve just been feeling…off lately. I don’t know exactly. Something needed to change.”
“So…you changed your clothes?”
I shrugged. “In theory, it should have been an easy thing to do.” I turned back to my reflection. I could see the past month written in my face, the stress and exhaustion making a map on my skin. “I want to feel pretty.”
“Pretty?” Glancing at Moriel, I could tell I had totally lost him. “Umm…Adira, who do you need to feel pretty for? It’s just me here and I don’t care what you wear…”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Thank you, I’m so glad to hear it, Moriel. But this is actually not about you. It’s about me. I want to feel different; I want to feel beautiful. Just for me.”
“And clothing would do that?”
I turned to Moriel. “Do wizards have a uniform? Something you wear for important ceremonies?” He nodded, and I continued, “Tell me you don’t feel different wearing that compared to your regular clothes. You don’t stand taller, don’t hold yourself differently, don’t feel more powerful, just by wearing that uniform?”
He thought for a moment. “All right, I see your point.”
“I haven’t worn a single royal outfit in over a month. I just want to feel like a princess again, even if it’s just for a moment. I want to feel beautiful again.”
“I didn’t take you for someone who would be vain about appearances.”
“As a royal, as a woman, or as a person?”
“There’s a difference?”
I shook my head. “Of course, there is. There are expectations of what a royal should look like. We have to impress people when we walk into a room, give off an aura of power. Clothing helps with that. But it’s a fine line, because if our finery were excessive, people would think we were vain and wasteful and that we thought too highly of ourselves. We have to impress people without giving cause for them to censure us. Appearances matter.”
I walked over to my bed and sat down on the edge, looking across at Moriel where he stood. “Now as a woman, it’s simply a fact of reality that we are judged and valued by our looks.”
“Seriously?” Moriel asked.
I snorted. “Of course. There was a rumor a few years ago about twin heiresses who had different dowries, based on their looks. I can’t remember if the prettier one had the larger because she was ‘worth’ more, or if the plainer one had the larger because she needed more help finding a partner.”
“Is that true?” He looked horrified.
I shrugged. “Who knows. But the fact that a rumor like that could even circulate in the first place and people would consider it says something, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose.”
“A woman’s appearance matters in society. I’m no exception to that. You’d think that in a kingdom often ruled by strong queens, something would have changed by now, but alas.”
“And personally? You said as a royal, a woman, and as a person before.”
I shrugged. “Who doesn’t want to look in the mirror and like what they see? Whether that’s seeing someone beautiful or strong or powerful or anything you want. I’ve yet to meet a person who does not feel better when they think they look good.”
I stood up and came back to look in the mirror. The dress hung wrong, since it wasn’t closed properly. I looked like someone attempting to play dress up and failing. “I’d like to think I’m not so vain that I care all the time about my appearances. I mean, I do spend a decent amount of time covered in dirt looking after the tree. You can’t really care about appearances and look after the tree. My mother taught me that. But every once in a while, I do want to look good. But since I can’t lace up this dress, it seems that won’t be today. Remind me the next time I get a dress made that if I can’t get in and out of the dress on my own, it’s not worth the making.”
I started to head towards one of the smaller chambers to take the dress off when Moriel spoke.
“If you’d like, I could…” I paused and looked over my shoulder at him. “I could do the laces.”
I considered a moment before nodding. I stood in front of the mirror. I watched Moriel come over in the reflection. He picked up the laces and slowly threaded them through the holes, tightening as he went. His touch was light, I could tell he was being careful. We stood there silently as the dress was closed and I could feel it settle properly on my frame. I glanced in the mirror every so often and saw Moriel concentrating as if his life depended on the task at hand.
At last, he was done. “There.”
“Thank you.” I looked at my reflection and satisfaction rushed through me. Here was Princess Adira again. A princess who was strong and kind and in control and beautiful. A princess who was worthy and would not fail. “Thank you, Moriel.”
He looked up and our eyes met in the reflection. I smiled at him. He smiled back.
“Your necklace…”
My hand went to the necklace. It was the jewel he had given me, the one he’d made out of starlight on my birthday.
“When did you…”
“That first week. I found a chain. I’ve worn it every day.”
Those first days, when the loneliness had been grown and become unbearable, I had stumbled across the jewel in one of my drawers. When I touched it, the starlight was warm and felt alive. It was so comforting that I’d made it into a necklace, so I could wear it next to my skin. The dresses I’d been wearing, the ones made for tending the tree, had higher necklines than the dress I had on now, so Moriel had never noticed before that I’d been wearing the jewel every day.
I turned around to face him. There was a look in his eyes I couldn’t really place. But it was gone quickly, replaced by a smile.
“I’m glad you like it. It looks good on you.”
I nodded, unsure what to say.
“Well, now what? Or are you planning on practicing in that dress?”
I chuckled. “I’m sure I could still whack you around, even in this dress. But no, I had something else in mind.”
With that, I left the chambers. Moriel called after me that I wasn’t wearing shoes. I called back that I knew and continued on my way. I heard him follow me. I burst into the banquet hall, where my birthday celebration had been several months before. It was eerie, being so quiet and empty and vast. But the floors were perfect for what I wanted. My feet delighted in the touch of the wood.
“What do you want to do in here?” Moriel asked from behind me.
I looked back at him and smiled before I began to twirl. The dress whispered as it swung with me. My bare feet glided over the floor as I stepped a dance figure and then another. I could almost hear music. I turned back to Moriel, who stood on the threshold, again.
“Come and dance.”
He shook his head. “No, thank you.”
“Oh, come on, it’s fun.” I stopped mid-twirl.
“I’m sure it is.”
I considered him for a moment. I thought back to my birthday and remembered the only time I had seen him that whole evening had been by the tree. The other wizards had attended the celebration and had danced, but not Moriel.
“Moriel, do you know how to dance?”
His face flushed for a moment. “No, I don’t. I never learned.”
I smiled and walked over to him, took his hands, and pulled him into the center of the room. “Well, there’s no time like the present to learn.”
“No, Adira. Seriously, I don’t need to.”
“You should know how to do some dances, Moriel. You won’t be able to avoid celebrations forever. People will expect you to know how.”
“No one expects anything from wizards. Except magical solutions to all their problems.”
“You should expect it of yourself. I’ll teach you. Put all those dance lessons of mine to good use. It’s about time I taught you something, what with everything you’ve been teaching me.”
I could see him arguing with himself in his mind. I waited as Moriel thought about it.
“There’s no music.”
I smiled, knowing I had won. “You don’t need music to dance. You especially don’t need it when you’re just learning. But if you really feel we need it, we could sing or hum a tune, if you like.”
“I’m going to be horrible at it,” he muttered.
“You won’t know until you’ve tried.”
“I could hurt you,” he tried.
“I doubt it, but if you do, think of it this way – if you trip me up, it’ll be payback for all the times I’ve whacked you with a sword.”
Moriel laughed and I did too.
“Shall we begin?”
He hesitated one moment more before nodding. I smiled, took his hands lightly in mine, showed him the steps, and we began to dance.
Chapter Sixteen
We started alternating between sword and dance practice in the afternoons. It was strange switching between the two, the different ways they pushed my body and the comfort I had in each. I was gaining confidence with sword practice, but I was still very much the student. With dancing, those roles were reversed. I found that I enjoyed teaching, feeling confident and satisfaction when Moriel executed a step well. He was as good a student as he was a teacher.
As the weeks progressed, those hours became the only ones I spent away from the tree. The Hollow was rapidly approaching, and the tree was weakening. Aside from sleeping, eating, and practicing, I spent all my time with the tree. I could feel myself become paranoid every time I left the courtyard, worrying that when I came back the tree would be dead.
Moriel was now sending the reports to my ministers for me and doing all the cooking for the two of us. I initially argued that we should stop our practices as well, but Moriel countered that I needed the break from my guard duty. While I had protested, I ultimately agreed with him. The one or two hours, depending on how each day went, were crucial to keeping my spirits up and giving me a much-needed break. Sleep was a deserved reprieve as well, but a hard one to come by since I rarely had a good night’s rest.
The one small blessing was that the weather was on our side. Spring was in full bloom, with its sunshine and warmth. It was easy for me to spend hours in the courtyard, sometimes just watching the tree. After watering it and examining it and listening to the trunk, the sound of the town square now a faint whisper, there wasn’t much else I could do. I was providing fresh mulch and water as often as was possible, but there came a point where doing too much could cause harm. So I would sit and stare and wait.
The tree now looked like a patchwork of life and death. There were green spaces, with living leaves and healthy limbs, next to dead spots, blackened branches and rotting leaves. There wasn’t a single branch that wasn’t affected at some point on its length from the trunk. I worried that if I blinked at just the right moment, I would miss a new spot of death appearing on the tree. The only benefit of watching the tree so closely was the ability to spring into action immediately, though at this point, I wasn’t sure what I could really do.
Everyone in the kingdom was mobilized to help, my ministers reported. The cities and towns not hit by the Hollow were sending aid to those that were. Money was flowing to help; food supplies were traded. It made me proud to hear how my people were rallying in the face of this.
It made me terrified I might let them down.
Moriel and I still had no idea what we were going to do when the Hollow got here. Moriel had requested an update from the wizards in the field, if any had found a way to fight the Hollow. My ministers had reported no successes. Our best theory was my birth had stopped the Hollow last time, but that still left us with a dead end, unsure of what we could do.
I had sent a message to my father, asking about my birth and if he had any ideas about the Hollow’s connection to it. But the relay system we’d set up was slow, painfully so, especially compared to how easily we had communicated before with the mirror. I’d sent the message over a week ago and still had not gotten a response back. It was possible my father had moved locations now, moving to a more recently struck city to lend aid, which would account for any delay in the message getting to him and then back. I missed him terribly, wishing I could speak to him, hear his voice and have his wisdom.
I missed everyone. I missed Helaine and Elize and my ministers and the servants and the nobles. I missed the faces of other people. The few notes I sometimes got from Helaine and Elize were nothing compared to seeing them in person, hearing their voices. For all I was glad I had Moriel with me and I wasn’t alone anymore, I still found myself daydreaming about when I could open those front doors and run out to see the world and its people and my friends. And as the Hollow crept closer and closer, I clung to that daydream even more, because that dream meant we would have won. We would have won, and the kingdom and I were alive enough for me to open those gates and see everyone again. I clutched at the daydream, because each day the Hollow was getting closer and a horror began to seep into me as I felt the dream slip through my fingers like smoke.
I woke up one morning and as I got ready, I glanced at the diary I had been keeping. I flipped to the first page, my first entry, on the day of the evacuation. Almost a month and a half had passed since then, longer than I had expected it would take for the Hollow to get here once the four hits to a revolution pattern changed. I thumbed through the entries, some of them long and some of them very short. It was strange to see that passage of time accounted for in pages, a few strokes of ink on paper.
My heart still thudding in my chest, even though I knew what awaited me, I went down to the tree. Today was a third day, and in that the Hollow had remained constant. It was simply a matter of where, as always.
The new spot was practically right next to the trunk. I plucked the leaf and ran to the study. Moriel must have heard me running, because just as the leaf was falling onto the map, fluttering practically straight down, he came bursting into the room, a wooden spoon in his hand.
“Where?”
The map was now covered in dead leaves, littered like lost children. The new addition was one of the towns right outside the castle walls.
“It’s here.” I was surprised my voice was not shaking. I felt very still, like a statue on the edge of falling. If I fell, if I moved, I would shatter.
Moriel took a deep breath. “It’s not here yet.”
“Moriel, it’s at our gates.”
“But it’s not in the palace. If it were, we would know it.”
“How?”
“Go back to the tree. I’ll bring you some breakfast and we’ll talk. We need a plan.”
I wanted him to talk now, but I couldn’t really argue with him. I needed to get back to the tree and we both needed to eat. The morning sunshine was just beginning to warm the air in the courtyard. I went through the routine, the steps of tending the tree, though I felt despair as I did them. I wasn’t sure what good they were doing. I wished I could see progress with my naked eye, though I knew that wasn’t possible. My mother had warned me against that, when she taught me about the tree.
“The tree moves at its own pace sometimes, Adira. While that is hard to accept, you must. Trying to change the nature of the tree would be like trying to change who you are. Neither is possible, and neither should be desired.”
In my heart, I knew what my mother had told me to be true, but I wished it weren’t so. This was the first time I’d ever felt this way, the first time I wanted my mother to be wrong. I certainly was wishing the tree could move at my pace now, and a rapid one at that, to get better.
“Here,” Moriel said, as he came into the courtyard. I turned and took the bowl he was offering me. We stood in the shade of the tree for a while, just eating.
“You said we would know when the Hollow was here. How?” I asked, when I had finished eating.
Moriel swallowed his last spoonful. “Every account described the same kind of sensation when the Hollow arrived. A hollow feeling, for lack of a better word, coming over everybody. Like someone was digging you out from the inside. From what I read, it seems like the kind of thing you couldn’t ignore or mistake.”
“Can you see the Hollow? Does it have a…a body or something?”
“Some accounts claimed they could see a form, a kind of smog in the air. Others made no mention of it. I’m not sure, really.”
My gripped tightened on my empty bowl. “How do we fight something we can’t see but we can feel?”
“I don’t know, Adira. But we will fight it.”
“How?”
Moriel shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“That’s helpful. Real helpful, Moriel.”
“You said it yourself, Adira. Life finds a way. It will find a way now. You will find a way.”
“And what about you? Where do you intend to be?”
“Right here, helping you. But between the two of us, we both know you’re the one who can protect the tree.”
“Then what will you be doing?”
“Protecting you. That’s the whole reason I stayed here in the first place.” He took my bowl from me.
I thanked him. I was glad to hear he intended to be protecting. I was worried he would say something about being a distraction, a diversion for the Hollow, like he had last time. I didn’t want either of us to die or get hurt, but I definitely didn’t want Moriel sacrificing himself for me.
“I’m going to stay here. Until this is over, I’m not leaving the courtyard.”
“You can’t mean you’ll sleep here?”
“Yes, I will. The weather has been good. I think it will hold. I just need a pallet and some blankets, and I’ll be fine. It’s not like I would sleep better in my bed, with the Hollow so close.”
“You know it won’t attack for three days.”
I shook my head. “I am not going to risk the Hollow suddenly changing on us now. I’m staying here.”
Moriel studied me for a moment and nodded. “I’ll bring some things.”
“Thank you.”
Over the course of the day, Moriel brought down two pallets and sets of sleeping materials, since he intended to stay in the courtyard as well. I told him it wasn’t necessary, but he refused to budge.
“We can worry about impropriety later. If it makes you feel better, I’ll sleep in the corridors and you in the courtyard. But I am not going to leave you to face the Hollow alone.”
I didn’t push him on it, since I was secretly grateful. I wasn’t sure there was anything either of us could do against the Hollow, but at least I wouldn’t be alone. I had been alone before, I could still remember the horribleness of that feeling, those days, and I didn’t ever want to feel like that again.
He also brought down some books, including my diary, and some clothing, so I could change in one of the rooms off the courtyard corridors. He took over all the food, bringing it to the courtyard for the two of us to eat. In the afternoon, he even brought down two swords for us to practice, this time real metal ones.
“Are you serious?” I was shocked he would suggest practicing at a time like this and with real metal. We had been using wooden practice swords up until now.
“Yes. Staring at the tree, waiting, isn’t doing either of us any good. We are here if something happens.”
“And the metal?”
“You are ready to start working with the real thing.”
“I could cut your head off. Or my own, more likely.”
“You haven’t come close to chopping either of our heads off with a wooden sword. And we’ll go slow, the basic patterns again. You’ll need to get used to the new weight and movement of metal rather than wood. Now come on. Let’s get started.”
I was begrudging at first, but ultimately glad that we did practice. The real sword did feel very different in my hand, but also familiar, like a cousin of what we had been doing before. I knew it would take time to adjust. And I never came close to striking either of our heads off, which was a small triumph that I heartily welcomed.
The day passed slowly. Moriel leaving and returning to do various tasks was the best indicator of time passing. I mostly sat on the ground, my back against the courtyard walls, staring at the tree. From where I sat on the ground, it looked huge, immense. I remember how the tree seemed so vast when I saw my mother tend it, watching from my bedroom window. It was a different angle now, a different time, but I was struck with that feeling again.
I felt small and insignificant against it, which seemed right, even if it didn’t feel comfortable. The tree was the kingdom. The kingdom was the tree. The kingdom was vast, immense, filled with thousands of people. I was just one person.
I somehow managed to fall asleep that night, the stars twinkling above me. Moriel did sleep in the corridor, to give us both some privacy.
The next day passed much the same as the day before. I barely left the courtyard. We had another sword practice. Moriel offered to dance, but I wanted the weight of a weapon in my hand. I wanted to feel like a warrior.
The following day was worse. Nothing had changed, the tree was just the same, but we both knew our time was up. It was the second day and tomorrow would be the third. I could hear that clock ticking again, in the background of my mind. Instead of telling me to hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, it now chimed too soon, too soon, too soon. I wanted to shout at it to slow down, slow down, slow down.
“I’m going to nap,” I told Moriel after lunch, when we would normally have practiced.
“Why?”
“Midnight will mark the third day. I want to be awake for it.”
“You think the Hollow would attack then?”
“I wouldn’t put it past it. It’s when I would attack.”
Moriel nodded and said he would wake me for dinner. I lay down on my pallet. I worried I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but eventually exhaustion rolled over me. I woke to Moriel nudging me and the smell of stew. The sun was setting, the courtyard darkened in dusk. We ate in silence. Moriel left to clean the dishes after we’d finished.
After he left, I walked over to the tree. I placed both of my hands on the trunk and listened. I felt murmurs, faint whispers, the sounds of the living at a funeral. Tears coursed down my cheeks. I leaned my forehead against the tree, the bark a rough comfort against my skin.
“Oh Mother, I wish you were here with me.”
I stood still and quiet there as the shadows deepened and the stars began to wink from above.
“Adira? Adira, where are you?” Moriel called, coming back to the courtyard.
“Over here.” I wasn’t surprised he couldn’t see me. The starlight wasn’t much light.
I turned and saw his outline, a solid dark shape in the shadows. My eyes adjusted, and I could make out some of his face, as he walked further into courtyard.
“Are you all right?”
I shook my head. “I’m scared, Moriel.”
“I know. Me too.”
I wanted him to say something more. But I wasn’t sure what else either of us could really say. I wished I could see his face, but there was so little light. Then I remembered. I tugged at the chain around my neck, pulling at the starlight jewel, resting it on my dress front. It gave a faint glow, the light warming my face. And once my eyes adjusted, I could make out Moriel’s face a bit better. I could see the worry in his eyes as he watched me from several feet away.
“It will be over soon.”
I nodded. It was a small consolation, but it was a true one. No matter what happened, it would be over soon.
After a while, I sat down on the ground, my back to the tree. I wanted to be near it. Moriel sat by one of the courtyard walls. I appreciated that he gave me some space. I needed it. We sat in silence, the minutes ticking by, the shadows deepening. My heart began to beat a rhythm so painful I was sure it would burst from my chest. I was glad I’d slept before, but I knew now I wouldn’t have been able to sleep, even if I were exhausted.
A far-off bell began to ring. I lifted my head to listen. I knew Moriel was doing the same, counting the tolls. One, two, three…A wind blew through the courtyard, rustling the tree. Seven, eight, nine…I stood up, my hands on the tree behind me. I heard Moriel moving across the flagstones. Eleven, twelve. Then silence.
I took a deep breath, feeling it rattle through my chest. Nothing seemed to change. And then—
“It’s here.”
I could feel something descending, like a blanket falling slowly over us. A clawing feeling creeped up my arms, digging into my flesh. I gripped the tree more tightly behind me, pressing my back to it. I looked around, trying to see it, to see the Hollow. But there was nothing there. I could only feel it, the crawling, the clawing. Something was pulling at my chest trying to get into me. It felt like hooks were being dug into my skin, trying to go deeper. It was painful to breathe.
There was a scream. I jumped and cried out. From the faint light of my necklace, I saw Moriel falling to the ground, clutching his stomach.
“Moriel!”
“Stay with the tree!” he groaned, bracing himself on the stones. “Stay…Adira…” He collapsed on the ground, on his side, his face away from me. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing.
I screamed, my voice echoing around the courtyard. But I didn’t move. I held onto the tree. I would protect it, with my body, with my last breath if I had to. I gripped it from behind, trying to wrap my arms all the way around it, the bark rough against my palms.
The digging increased, the pain was incredible. It felt like my organs were being hooked and pulled out from my body, one by one. Claws were scraping at my skin, tearing at my lungs and heart. I was being hollowed out alive.
I felt the tree shudder behind me, the faint murmurs starting to disappear.
“No!” I turned around to hug the tree, pressing my face against the bark, digging my nails into the trunk. “You can’t have it! Over my dead body…” My knees began to buckle underneath me, the digging eating at my legs now. I was sinking to the ground, but I kept my arms still wrapped around the tree.
That’s when I heard it. And I knew I would remember that sound for the rest of my life. A whisper against my ear, a voice like a void, hungry, without end, saying: That was the idea.
Tears coursing down my face, from fear and pain, I pressed against the tree. I couldn’t let this thing win. I wouldn’t.
“You can’t have it! I won’t let you!”
I heard a chuckle, a phantom sound of an evil knowing it has won. The pleasure of someone who wants to eat the world.
I couldn’t let the Hollow win. I wouldn’t! I would give everything I had. The tree had to live. That was all that mattered. The tree had to live. The kingdom was the tree and the tree was the kingdom. It would live. It had to. The tree had to stay alive.
I pressed my face and my chest against the trunk, my knees sunk into the dirt, wishing the tree could absorb my body into it. I would keep the tree alive, if it were the last thing I did. My vision started to blur. I could barely breath now, my lungs were gone. I held onto the tree, willing my life into its limbs, trying to give it my strength, my will to live.
The tree would be alive…it would stay alive…life would find a way again…life always did.
Then suddenly, the courtyard went bright. My vision went white behind my closed lids. I smelled fresh flowers. Then my vision went black, I felt like I was falling, and then nothing.
Chapter Seventeen
“Adira…Adira…”
I heard the voice calling me first. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I recognized it. I knew it. It meant friendship and strength and support. I wanted to get closer to that voice. With that thought, I breathed and sensed my body moving in tandem with it. My eyes felt heavy, but I forced them open.
“Adira!”
I blinked, the effort seemed immense to keep my eyes open. But I opened them again and my eyes adjusted to the light and I saw Moriel’s face hovering over me.
“Moriel…” my voice was a croak, my throat cracking on the sound.
He smiled, sighing. “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re awake.”
I glanced around him, trying to orient myself. We were in the courtyard, which was illuminated in the pearl haze of dawn. I was lying on the ground. I felt my back molding into the dirt. My hand was on the trunk of the tree, the bark comforting to touch. Keeping that hand there, I slowly pushed myself up. Moriel helped me until I was in a seated position, leaning against the tree. He handed me a cup of water. I slowly sipped.
“What happened?” I asked when I felt a bit better.
Moriel shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure. The Hollow knocked me out. I only came to a while ago. I’ve been trying to wake you up since then.”
My heart began to pound in my chest. “The Hollow! What happened? Where is it? Is it gone?” I was shaking, the crawling clawing sensation creeping up my arms and down my legs and at my chest again.
“Easy, steady,” Moriel said, putting his hands on my shoulders. “It’s gone. I can’t feel it anymore. Can you?”
I swallowed and closed my eyes for a moment. I took a deep breath. The ghost of the digging faded and there was nothing. My body was whole, and I felt nothing. The courtyard felt like it always did when I came to the tree at dawn, nothing weighing it down, nothing trying to smother and kill.
“I can’t feel it. But…but what happened…how did it…what did we…”
Moriel smiled. “I’m not sure what exactly happened, but Adira, look.” He pointed to the tree’s branches. I looked up and blinked. I wasn’t sure I was seeing properly. But they were still there.
The tree was covered in white blossoms. The tree had bloomed.
I had never seen the tree in bloom, had only heard about it from the year of my birth. But it was as magnificent as everyone had said it was. It was beautiful. The courtyard smelled of life.
I put my other hand on the tree’s trunk and listened. I could hear that town square again, careful and cautious but alive with sound, people coming out of their homes again.
The tree had recovered. The tree was alive.
“I don’t understand…how?”
“I’m not sure. I was out. The Hollow…I don’t want to ever feel that again.” Moriel shuddered. I knew exactly what he meant. “What happened, Adira? What do you remember?”
I didn’t want to think about it, but I tried to remember. “I was holding onto the tree. I felt the Hollow…clawing at me…”
“I know. I felt it too.”
I swallowed. I paused to take another sip of water. “And I remember thinking I would keep the tree alive, if it were the last thing I did. Thinking I would give it my own strength if I had to.”
“Your own life.”
I nodded. “I remember a bright light and the smell of…of flowers.” I stared at Moriel, eyes wide. I saw the surprise and awe on his face that I was sure was matched on my own. “And then everything went black and…that’s all I remember.”
“You gave some of your life to the tree. Enough strength to make it bloom.”
“Is that even possible?”
“Clearly it is. Adira, look around. The tree bloomed. And the Hollow is gone.”
I looked up at the canopy of brown and white and green above us. “Just like last time.”
Moriel nodded. “It was your birth, the last time. Your birth gave enough life to the tree that it bloomed and fought off the Hollow.”
“Wait…if I gave my life to the tree…how am I still alive?”
“Are you really going to complain about being alive?”
“No, but I want to understand.”
Moriel shrugged. “Maybe you gave the tree just enough to fight off the Hollow. Enough to make you pass out, but not enough to kill you. Or maybe the tree gave it back, once the Hollow was gone. Your family’s connection to the tree is beyond anyone’s magical understanding, so anything is really possible.”
I didn’t like the idea that I might have died. But I didn’t like not knowing what exactly had happened either. And yet I knew Moriel was right. Since both of us had passed out, we would never truly know what had happened. I would have to make my peace with that.
“But shouldn’t the tree blooming have given more fuel to the Hollow? It hollows out life.”
“Maybe it could only kill the tree while it was weakened. The tree had too much life to kill.”
“Life finds a way.”
Moriel nodded. “Life finds a way.”
I took a deep breath. I stared up at the tree. I could feel my body steadying where I sat. I would examine the tree in a little bit, when I felt stronger, but I knew that when I did, I would find every limb and leaf and branch and flower alive. Weak, perhaps, but alive.
The Hollow was gone. It was over.
I looked over at Moriel, a grin bursting over my face. “Moriel…we did it. It’s over.”
He grinned back at me. “You did it, Adira. You. And it’s over.”
I threw my arms around him and we hugged. I was so relieved, I was laughing. The sound echoed strangely in the courtyard, a noise that hadn’t been heard in what felt like ages, but it was good to hear.
I pulled away to look at him, suddenly aware. “I’m sorry, I should have asked first.”
He smiled and shook his head. “No worries, Adira. I would have said yes to a hug.” I ducked my head, glad I hadn’t offended him in crossing that boundary.
“Adira, look,” Moriel said. He was pointing to something behind me. I turned around. An imprint of where my hand had been resting was faintly etched into the bark of the tree by the roots.
“If your family hadn’t been connected to the tree before, I think it would be certain now. I would guess your children will have the strongest connection to the tree of any royals.”
That reminded me of something we needed to do. I leaned out of Moriel’s embrace and against the tree.
“We need to record what happened. Everything.”
“Surely that can wait for later.”
I shook my head. “I want to do it now, while it’s still fresh in our minds. Before we open the gates or do anything else. Or do you think the Hollow is gone forever?”
I knew the Hollow wasn’t gone forever. It was gone for now. But it would come back some day. Maybe not in my lifetime again or in my children’s lifetime, but eventually, it would come back. Only a record of what had happened here today would help future generations. I understood even better why my parents had never told me about their past experience with the Hollow, why they’d never mentioned it. I could see myself easily falling into the same trap, wanting to put as much distance as possible between myself and what happened this day. But I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t.
Moriel nodded. “I’ll get some paper and ink. And some food. You stay here.”
I nodded, still feeling weak. I didn’t want to try standing just yet, I would probably be unsteady on my feet and just topple over. I leaned my back against the tree, my head on the trunk. I closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of the flowers. They were fresh, new blooms just beginning to come into their own. In a few days, I knew the courtyard would smell like a garden.
Moriel came back, with writing utensils and bowls of porridge. He handed me one of the bowls, took a bite from his own, and then we set to working. Moriel spoke before he wrote, so that the narrative was a collaboration, every word carefully chosen. We both knew that this would be the record some future ruler and wizard might review as we had done with the records of the past. We both wanted to give better than we’d gotten.
I ate slowly, telling over my parts, as best as I could remember them, in between bites. I felt better by the minute, stronger. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I had finished my bowl. By that time, we had finished our account.
“Done,” Moriel said. He laid down the book and the quill and flexed his hand.
I nodded.
“What is it?”
“I heard it, Moriel.”
“Heard what?”
I looked up at him. “The Hollow. I heard…it sounds insane, but I heard this voice.” My own voice was trembling, remembering the words, remembering the sound. A chill ran through me, my heart thudding in my chest. “It sounded like…like a void. Just emptiness. But hungry too. Like it wanted to eat the world. And it…laughed…” I shuddered. “I don’t ever want to hear something like that ever again. I just…”
I wanted to smack myself. It was over, the Hollow was gone, we had won. The tree was alive. Espera was alive. Moriel was alive. I was alive. My people would live. Then why was I still so afraid?
“The Hollow may not come back for years. Generations even.”
I took a deep breath. “I know. But I am going to have to teach my children about this. Tell them about the Hollow and what it does and how to fight it. How do I prepare them without scaring them? I don’t want them to live in fear, but…”
Now that the Hollow had a voice, it was somehow more real and horrible and terrifying than any unknown entity could have been. That voice, those words, that laugh—I wanted to curl in on myself and hide. Even though it was gone, even though it couldn’t hurt me or anyone I cared about anymore.
“You will show them how, Adira. You will teach them, so that they can be ready without fear. You will prepare them to be wise.”
“You think so?” All I felt was fear right now, when I knew I had all the reasons to be happy. I didn’t feel wise.
Moriel nodded. “Yes. You may mess up here and there, all parents do. But you will teach your children well. You’re going to be a good mother. You’re already a good queen.”
“I’m not queen yet.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you became queen today. You saved Espera. You saved the tree. You’re my queen.”
A blush creeped over my face as Moriel looked at me, a solemnness in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before.
I looked away and shook my head. I sighed. “I guess I’m just worrying if I get it wrong somehow—”
“Can you not worry about failing for once? You can’t fail children you haven’t even had yet. You seriously need to stop or I’ll…”
I chuckled, at his words and to see the solemn look gone from his face. “Or what, Moriel? What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll figure something out.”
I laughed, and he joined in. It felt good to laugh, the sound felt natural and real. It belonged in this courtyard, chasing away the other sounds that crowded my mind.
I slowly pushed myself to my feet, using the tree as a support. Moriel stood as well, ready to help me if I needed him, but I didn’t. My legs felt steady beneath me. I took a deep breath, the scent of the flowers even stronger now that I was closer to them.
“I’m going to look over the tree. Please make a second record of that,” I pointed to the book of our account. “A word for word copy.”
“Why?”
“More copies mean fewer chances it will be lost or forgotten. I want at least one copy in the palace library and one with the wizards.”
Moriel nodded and went to get more paper. I began my walk around the tree, touching every limb and every branch, my hands grazing the leaves and blooms and buds. Every part was brimming with life. The parts of the tree that had been hit by the Hollow were a bit weaker than the rest, those buds more tightly closed, just waiting for the strength to bloom, but I could tell they would catch up soon. I took my time going around the tree, relishing the life at my fingertips. I knew it had only been a couple months, but it felt like it had been forever since I’d felt the tree thriving. I wanted to savor it.
I finished my circuit as Moriel was finishing his second copy. When he was done, we both stood in the sunlight, the morning almost passed, watching the tree.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
I grinned, remembering my birthday. “The tree or the day?”
“Yes.”
We looked at each other and smiled.
“May I hug you?” I asked. I didn’t want to cross that boundary again without permission.
He nodded, and we stepped towards each other. My arms wrapped around him, his arms tight around me.
“What am I going to do without you?” I asked.
“Without me? Where am I going exactly?”
I stepped away and looked up at him. “Not going away, per se, but everything will change when we open those doors. They’ll go back to the way things were. Or, something close to that.”
“Perhaps. But I’ll still be here. You still have to teach me the next dance. And I need to teach you how to swing a sword without chopping your own head off.”
I laughed. “True enough.”
“Are you ready then?”
I nodded. “Let’s go.”
We headed to the front doors, my heart pounding. How many times had I dreamed of making this trip down these halls? Dreamed of the sight beyond those closed doors? We came to the row of chairs I had put up as a defense against myself so long ago and I chuckled. I remembered the hours I used to spend sitting there, gazing at the closed doors, just wishing for what was outside.
We moved the chairs back to their original homes in the palace. I approached the dark wood, the simple lock. My fingers were trembling as I turned the lock. I felt something shudder, like a taut wire snapping and falling.
“The spell is broken,” Moriel said from behind me.
I nodded. I gripped the two handles of the doors. I remembered how heavy they had been when I had closed them, but my arms were stronger now than they had been then. Swinging a sword everyday had given me that. I pulled at the doors and they slowly moved.
With some momentum and a burst of energy and drive, I threw the doors open wide.
Chapter Eighteen
The road looked just as I had remembered and imagined it. Empty and wide and open. It looked like freedom.
The city below seemed to be bustling, the day too fine to spend indoors.
I stepped cautiously outside. A wind blew by and I felt it fully on my body. I held my arms wide, so I could catch myself in it and be surrounded.
I started to giggle which turned into a laugh. I couldn’t stop. I started to walk down the road and then I started to run. I stopped halfway down and looked back. Moriel was standing in the doorway of the palace, grinning at me. He must have read the question on my face because he shook his head and called, “I’ll stay here and guard the place. You go.”
I nodded and understood there was more to his staying behind than just guarding the now open and unprotected castle. This was my moment of triumph, my return to my people. He didn’t want to intrude on that. I turned back around and ran down the road to the city. My legs hadn’t moved like that in so long, they burned after a short while, but I pushed them onward, rushing to get back to the world of other people.
I burst through the city gates. People stopped and turned to look at me. Some recognized me, but many didn’t. I wasn’t surprised at this. I didn’t look like the princess, dressed in my plain clothes for tending the tree, and they hadn’t seen or heard from me in months. But those that did recognize me began to murmur and then cry out, “The princess! The princess is back!”
Smiling at people as they curtsied and bowed, I continued into the city’s square. I looked through crowd, hearing the cries as they proceeded ahead of me. I didn’t see any faces I recognized. I hoped they would be in the square by the time I got there.
The square was dominated by a large fountain, the water sparkling in the sunlight. I made my way to the edge and looked around at the assembling crowd.
“Princess Adira!”
I turned just in time to see Helaine’s face before her arms were wrapped around me. I hugged her back, feeling her tears on my shoulder. I blinked back my own tears. It felt so good, to see her, to be held by her. I had missed her so much, her comfort, her wisdom, her knowing eyes, and her support. I pulled away, so I could look at her face. She seemed older than when we’d said goodbye, the lines on her face deepening. But she was still my Helaine. I smiled at her.
“I’ve missed you so much, Helaine.”
She smiled and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “I’ve missed you too, your highness. Is…is all well?”
I nodded. “Yes. All is well. The tree has bloomed. The Hollow is gone. Espera is safe.”
Helaine hugged me again, this hug filled with relief and hope. I heard my words being repeated by the people next to me to those nearby and then the words being said again and again until I couldn’t hear anymore. Everyone was shouting with joy.
A bell rang out and kept on ringing. Someone was ringing the city’s bells, to spread the news.
All was well. The tree had bloomed. The Hollow was gone. Espera was safe.
Over the sound of the bells, music began to play. Someone was stringing a lute, several people in fact. People began to dance. I thought of Moriel and wished he had joined me, if only so I could have dragged him into one of the many circles of dancing. A little girl offered her hand to me, and I joined her in the circle.
As I twirled around, I looked into the faces of my people as they whirled by. I saw the anxiety and worry etched into faces, the bent backs from exhaustion and fear. But I also saw the smiles, the moving feet.
It would take time. But we would recover. Espera and its people would be all right.
I bowed out after the one dance. I returned to where Helaine stood waiting by the sides with Lillian. I hugged Lillian as well before asking Helaine to take me to my ministers. I had work to do.
As we made our way out of the square, I heard someone else cry out, “Adira!”
I turned and saw Elize running towards me, her parents behind her. She stopped a few feet away to curtsey, but I rushed forward to hug her before she could rise on her own.
“We heard the bells and came as fast as we could.”
We caught up with each other as Helaine led me to where my ministers usually met to work. I wondered if they would be there or if the bells had drawn them outside. But we entered the manor hall, whose owner had graciously offered for their use, and they were all there. They knelt as I entered the room.
“Your highness.”
It was a strange sight, seeing all of them kneeling. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Helaine and Lillian and Elize and her parents do the same. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen anyone kneel, even to my father.
I walked forward and took the hands of my ministers, one by one and raised them up.
“Thank you all, for what you have done. For me, for my people, for Espera, during this time. The Hollow has gone. The tree has bloomed.”
“How, Princess?” Lillian asked. “How did this happen?”
“There will be time for that later. It will take a bit of telling. But right now, I need to be brought up to speed on what is going on throughout the kingdom. And we need to start the move back into the palace.”
We got to work.
Messengers were sent out to each of the houses hosting palace residents. The move back would happen in stages, each message containing the date when a particular group would be returning. The lists we had made during the evacuation were thorough, so we knew where certain groups were housed and could be brought back earliest. The cooks and guards would be the first to return, other groups staggered afterwards. While I understood people would want to rush back to their homes and pick up their normal lives again, I wanted this process to be as smooth as possible for everyone involved.
Once that was done, I received the updates from the kingdom. As expected, the areas that were hit by the Hollow had suffered immensely. Money and resources had been poured into those towns and cities and, even with the tree blooming, I knew they would still need support for a time, especially the people.
I made plans for physicians and wizards to be sent to those areas to help people deal with the mental, emotional, and physical toll that the Hollow would have left. I had been subject to the Hollow for mere minutes and I knew I would bear those scars for life. I couldn’t imagine what horrors others were dealing with.
I was pleased to see that royal treasury was still in a good position. Money had been used, as I had instructed, but we still had enough.
Over the course of the hours as I was brought up to speed, new reports came in from all over the kingdom as it became evident that the Hollow had gone. Fields that had been stripped bare had sprouted overnight, tiny shoots of green peeking through dead earth. People who had been unable to move, the will to live clawed out from their bones, were now rising from their beds.
Life had found a way once more.
We sent messages back to all corners of the kingdom of the good news. The wizards were informed, and I sent a specific message to my father. As the day darkened, I knew I would be too exhausted to try to use the mirror to see him that night, though I was desperate to speak with him. It would wait until tomorrow.
Night had fallen by the time I returned to the palace, my ministers and Helaine with me. They would get their belongings tomorrow. Walking back up the road to the palace, I was surprised to find torchlight lining the way. Moriel must have lit them.
I was even more surprised to find that I was happy to be coming back. I would have thought after being stuck in the palace for almost two months, I would want to be out of it for as long as possible, but ultimately, it was still home. It would always be home and therefore I would always be happy to see it.
Moriel was waiting at the gates, a chair and a small table in front of him. On the table lay a stack of sheets, a quill scrawling across the page of its own accord. He stood and bowed when he saw us returning.
“Your highness.”
“What are you doing, Moriel?
“Making more copies of the account.”
“With magic? What about not using magic for the mundane?”
Moriel shrugged. “My hand got tired.”
I snorted, but I was fascinated at the quill moving steadily across the page, dipping itself into ink and returning to the paper. It had reached the end of the page, as the quill lifted up, the completed page shuffled to the side and the quill descended on a completely new page.
Moriel chuckled as well. “It occurred to me that with more copies, more people would be able to learn what had happened. And if we successfully told everyone, every person in the kingdom now and in the future, about what happened here today, perhaps the Hollow might never return.”
I crossed my arms. “How do you mean?”
“Well, the Hollow changed tactics after last time, didn’t it? Something must have caused it to change that it came straight for the tree this time. Why couldn’t it change tactics again?”
“And if we always knew how to defeat it, if the history were taught and never forgotten, then…” I could see where Moriel was going with this.
“Then maybe the Hollow would never come back. Not if we know how to defeat it.”
I smiled at him. “And so you made more copies.”
He shrugged. “Well, there also wasn’t much else to do, to be honest.”
“This has been fascinating to listen to, the pair of you,” Helaine said. “Truly it has been. But what are you two talking about?”
Moriel and I laughed. I let Moriel explain, as he stopped the spell and gathered up the parchment copies and we entered the palace. Candles were flickering along the halls. We had already eaten, so we went straight to my father’s study, where we deposited the accounts and Moriel finished explaining the events of the day. I sat in my father’s chair and just listened. It seemed like this morning had happened so long ago.
Once he was done and the questions from my ministers and Helaine answered, I rose to my feet. “I need to get some sleep. Our people will be returning, starting tomorrow, and there’s much to be done. Good night, everyone. I am glad you are all back.”
“As are we, your highness.”
Helaine followed me up to my room. She shook her head at the mess it now was, as I hadn’t spent much time keeping the room orderly. Though my eyes were drooping, I kept them open long enough to make an entry into my diary. I wondered if this would be my last entry or not, now that the Hollow was gone, but I figured I could decide on that tomorrow. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
It was strange waking up the next morning and not feeling dread. I looked out the window, the pale light of dawn illuminating the tree and its blossoms. I could smell them from my window. I went down and tended the tree, the thrill of its life still coursing through my veins.
Helaine helped me get dressed afterwards. It felt glorious to be wearing something royal again. I told her about the one time I had tried to wear one of these dresses, how Moriel had to help me. She laughed with me, a twinkle in her eyes.
I smiled at every person I passed in the halls, welcoming everyone home. I went straight to my father’s study and got to work. My ministers had kept a detailed record over the last couple of months. We’d gone over broad strokes yesterday, but now I wanted to get into the details. Helaine brought me some food at lunch. I thanked her, immensely grateful that I wasn’t cooking for myself anymore. My cooking skills had improved under Moriel’s tutelage but not by much.
My ministers stopped by every so often, a servant or two with a cup of tea, but I was mostly left to myself, as I sifted through paperwork. It was tedious, but quiet, and as the pile of papers to be read lessened and the pile of papers already read grew, I was pleased with my progress.
There was a knock on the door. I looked up to see someone bowing to me from the threshold. I didn’t recognize him from his bent position, his face obscured. But then he looked up and smiled at me. “Your highness.”
“Father!”
I jumped up from the seat behind the desk and ran into his arms. We held each other for a long while and for a moment, I was a child again. The world was small and safe and eternally happy. How could it be otherwise with my father here? I knew that was no longer the case, but I still felt that same sense of ease drift over me and it felt so good.
“When did you get back? Why didn’t I know that you were coming? I would have met you!” I pulled back, so I could at my father’s face. He looked his age now, but there was that same smile in his eyes.
“I just arrived. Once we got your message that the Hollow was gone, I rode right back. I wanted to be here with you. Tell me everything, Adira.”
I chuckled. “We should sit down then. It’s a long story.”
He nodded and sat in the chair closest to the door. I stared at him. He caught my look and smiled.
“That seat is yours now,” he said, pointing at the chair that had always been his for as long as I could remember. I couldn’t even remember seeing my mother in that chair, though it must have been hers at some point. “You are the leader of this kingdom, Adira. You have been for these past months. Your birthday may not be for a while but as far as I’m concerned, you are Queen Adira.”
I slowly sat down in the seat behind the desk. It felt very strange to have our places reversed in this space. “Moriel said something like that to me.”
“Moriel? Well, he happens to be right. And I understand he was around for much of these past months.”
With that nudge for explanation, I told my father about everything that had happened since he left and our communications had been cut off. As I told him about the evacuation, it was clear that word had reached him about my orders, but he had not gotten the details, and certainly not nearly as many as I was giving now.
“Well, you’ve certainly had a time, haven’t you, Adira?” he said, when I had finished.
I chuckled. “That’s one way of putting it.” I took a deep breath. “Would you have done it, Father? Had you been here, would you have evacuated?”
It didn’t really matter now, what had happened had happened and couldn’t be changed. But I found I still wanted assurance that I had acted properly.
He considered. “I’m not sure if I would have done the same. But I think you did right, Adira.”
“Because it all turned out all right in the end or because it was the right thing to do?”
“Both. You made the best decision you could have to benefit the most people with the information that you had at the time. Even if things had not turned out all right in the end, that fact would have remained true and therefore, you did right. Now it doesn’t mean I have to like it. As your father, I don’t particularly like the idea of you being alone here all by yourself.”
“I wasn’t alone, Father. Moriel was here.”
“That doesn’t actually make me feel much better. But I know you made the best decision you could have at the time, so as a father, I will just have to manage my feelings on my own. But as a subject, I couldn’t be more proud to have you as my queen.”
I blushed and ducked my head. It was beyond strange to hear my father refer to himself as a subject. “I’m nobody’s queen yet.”
He leaned forward and took my hand across the table and squeezed it. I looked up at him.
“Your mother would have been proud of you, Adira.”
I squeezed his hand back, so glad to have him home. “I know.”
Chapter Nineteen
Slowly, but surely, life came back, to the palace and to the kingdom. It wasn’t the same as before, but it was becoming a new normal. The growth was steady, money and support and resources being spread out to the places and people who needed it most, so they could survive and thrive once more.
I wanted to remember the victims, those who lost their lives to the Hollow. As I oversaw the recovery of the kingdom, I requested the names of people who’d died. I didn’t know yet what I was going to do with these names, except ensure that they would not be forgotten. Because I agreed with Moriel. If the kingdom never forgot the Hollow, what it did and how we stopped it, perhaps the Hollow would never return. It had changed tactics once, perhaps that evil voice would change tactics again. After keeping the accounts of that fateful morning, I figured remembering our lost ones was another good step to making sure we didn’t repeat history.
The tree continued to bloom and live. It was a joy that never ceased, walking into that courtyard and smelling those flowers. I realized that I had taken the tree’s health for granted before. I knew now that I never would do that again.
And so life went on, day after day.
All too soon, plans were being made for my eighteenth birthday and my coronation. I looked at the calendar and it was less than half a year away. And while I felt anxious at the thought, I was nowhere near as worried or afraid as I had once been. My father and Moriel had been right, in a sense. I was a princess in title, but queen in action. I had proven to myself that I could rule and rule well. I still had my moments of doubt, but not nearly as often.
There was much to do and plan for the coronation, the ceremony and the guests. My father took the lead on the planning, which I was glad to give over, as I was now handling more of the day to day ruling.
I wasn’t sure if it was because of the upcoming coronation or in response to the Hollow, but more noble families were coming to court than I could remember in the past. They would come for a week or two, pledging support and engaging in conversations ranging from recovery to coronation plans to the weather. It seemed both natural and odd at the same time, something I remarked on to Elize when I took a break to walk the palace grounds beyond the walls with her. Whenever I had the chance, I made sure to get outside of the palace to enjoy the world beyond.
“Of course, the nobles are all coming. They want to make sure you know they are loyal and that you know their faces. Especially if they have eligible sons.”
I shook my head. This wasn’t the first time someone had mentioned the subject of an alliance and marriage. Once the recovery of the kingdom was secure, my own father had brought up the subject.
“You don’t think I’m too young to marry?” I had asked.
He had sighed. “Age wise, perhaps. But experience wise, no. You are an adult now, Adira. And you will be queen in only a handful of months. You will need a partner, someone by your side who you can trust and who you love. I can only advise and hope you choose well, which I know you will.”
As princess and queen to be, the choice in a partner for life was solely my own, though I hoped that my father would approve of my choice.
“And if I don’t find someone now?”
“No one is going to force you down the aisle until you are ready and until you have found someone you love. But that isn’t going to stop people from showing you your options.”
I found myself wishing people would stop showing me every possible option though. At this point, it was known in the kingdom that I was interested in a man for a life partner, so the eligible men had been pouring through the castle gates faster than I could keep track of.
“Is that really a bad thing?” Moriel asked me one day, after I told him about the latest noble who had come, eligible son in tow. “You can’t make a decision if you don’t know your choices.”
We were walking back from our sword practice. Our practice hours, of sword and dance, were the only times we saw each other regularly now. We were both busy with our own duties in separate parts of the castle. When we passed each other in the hallways, we would pause for a moment to say hello, but it wasn’t like it used to be.
I leaned against the wall, ignoring the sweat dripping down my back. I would have to go bathe and change clothes before going back to work.
“I suppose, if there were really something to choose. I don’t really get to know any of these men. They’re here for mere days, and I’m what? Supposed to envision an entire future with them?”
Moriel shrugged. “You must know the local nobles better.”
“Yes, but between you and me, I don’t have any interest in them.” I didn’t know what exactly I was looking for, but I knew the men and boys I had met so far were not it.
Moriel looked away. “Well, I’m sure you will find someone, Adira.” He had tried to go back to calling me princess now that people had returned the palace, until I had made it clear that would not be acceptable. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the north tower.”
I nodded and Moriel bowed and left. I watched until he had turned the corner and was gone from sight. It was strange seeing him leave. I realized that I didn’t particularly like it. I knew I would see him the next day, since we had our practices each day. When my old dance teacher heard about our lessons, he offered to teach Moriel instead of me. The same thing happened with the guards, after seeing the two of us sparring. Both of us had definitively refused alternative tutors. I wanted the excuse to spend time with Moriel. I’d found myself missing the quiet time we’d spent together when the Hollow was looming. These hours of practice together were sacred.
I shook my head and returned to my room, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d wanted to continue talking with Moriel. That I’d wanted him to stay with him for longer than the one hour that we’d allotted to each other in our daily schedules.
The days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and the months inched closer to my birthday and coronation. The palace seemed to always be bursting at the seams with people now, the residents and the people who came to petition and work with me on issues in the kingdom and the eligible sons, who were hard to ignore. They seemed to be everywhere.
“I swear, the only time they leave me alone is when I’m tending the tree, the study door is closed, or here with you,” I complained to Moriel one day after our dance lesson. No one else was allowed into the ballroom, not even musicians. Moriel had enchanted a harp to play for us, when he finally felt ready to practice to music.
Moriel smiled. “I’m glad to be of service, your highness.”
I looked over at him. “Is everything all right, Moriel?”
“Yes, why do you ask?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, you seem…I’m not really sure. It just seems like something is bothering you.”
He looked at me then and a thread of electricity raced through my body. I knew that look; it was the same one I’d seen when he’d first noticed me wearing the jewel he’d given me, all those months ago. There was a thrilling intensity in his eyes, like a blazing fire. But then he blinked, and it was gone. I felt a surge of disappointment, like I had been on the verge of discovering something wonderful, only to be pulled back before I could draw the curtains to see what lay behind them.
“I suppose I might be a little tired. I haven’t been sleeping well, lately. But I’m all right, Adira, really.”
I wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not. But I nodded, accepting that was the only answer I was going to get.
I began to notice things about myself, when it came to Moriel. My heart would trip at the sound of his voice, at the sight of him coming down the hall. I found my eyes drifting to where he sat or spoke when we were in the same room. It made me smile when I saw him pausing his busy schedule to help someone in the castle or when I heard he’d gone out of the palace to assist the locals. I thought of things I wished I could tell him about, if only we had the time and space to talk for hours like we had before. There was so much and so little we had spoken about then.
The day came, a few months from my birthday, when Moriel couldn’t make the practice. He sent a note explaining that he’d been called away on a matter with the wizards. I thanked the servant who brought the note and closed the study door behind him. I pressed my back against the wood and closed my eyes and I knew.
I loved Moriel. I loved him immensely. I wanted to be with him, be near him, if only to breathe the same air.
The realization felt like a revelation and catastrophe at the same time. It felt wonderful to put a name to these feelings I had been having for so long. But what was I going to do with them now? I had no way of knowing if Moriel felt the same way about me. I thought back on all the time we’d spent together. With the exception of those looks, those moments of intensity, I couldn’t be sure he felt more for me than as a friend and monarch. But was that because he truly felt nothing or because he was letting me take the lead, not wanting to impose his feelings on me? Should I tell him how I feel? And if I did, what did that mean? Did I want to marry Moriel, ask him to be my partner through life, to be by my side forever, rule this kingdom together?
I wished my mother were here. I didn’t feel like talking to my father about this, though I knew I could if I wanted to.
A few days later, in the evening, as I got ready for bed, I turned to Helaine, who was taking out the dress I would wear the next day to air.
“Helaine, may I ask you something personal?”
She hung up the dress as she said, “What is it?”
I sat down on the edge of my bed. “How did you know that Lillian was the love of your life? That you wanted to marry her?”
Helaine turned to look at me. This was clearly not the question she had been expecting. She thought for a moment and came to sit beside me on the bed.
“It was several things over time. I knew she was the first person I wanted to see every morning and the last person I wanted to see every night. I knew I could tell her anything, show her the worst parts of me and she would love them still and find a way to help me forgive and love myself for them as well. The thought of her made my heart race. And the sight of her made me smile.”
I smiled. “And that’s all still true.” I’d seen the way the two of them interacted with each other, the way their love for each other seemed to glow in a room.
Helaine took my hand. “Yes, it is. I can’t imagine a life without her and I wouldn’t want to. I think the moment I tried to imagine my life without her in it and I knew I didn’t want to…that was the moment I knew I needed to marry her.”
I nodded. I had my answer then for myself.
“Who is it?”
I bit my lip and looked up at Helaine’s sparkling eyes. I sighed. “I don’t want to say.”
“You know that is quite unfair of you, to bait me with something like this.”
I laughed and shook my head. “I haven’t spoken with him yet. I don’t know if he feels the same way about me.”
“Why wouldn’t he love you, Adira?”
“I could think of several reasons why someone wouldn’t love me. But even if he does…there’s still the question of whether he would love me enough to take all of this.” I gestured to the room. “Who would be fool enough to want a royal life?”
“Then isn’t it a good thing all lovers are fools?” Helaine rested a hand on my cheek. “The man who loves you will not care that he has to live a royal life, so long as he gets to have any life with you.”
I took a deep breath and smiled at her. I hoped she was right. I hoped so hard, my heart hurt.
Helaine patted my hand. “You will tell me who this is eventually, right?”
I laughed and finished getting ready for bed. I assured her that once I knew how things stood, she would know. She wasn’t entirely satisfied, but I wasn’t going to share anything else and she eventually accepted this and left.
I lay in bed and wondered how I should approach Moriel. What I was going to say, when, where, how. My heart pounded at the thought of talking to him, with anticipation and excitement and a bit of dread. There were moments I felt certain he cared about me and then others when I was sure he didn’t, at least not in that way. But I also knew there was really only one way to find out how he felt. I simply had to ask him. I resolved do so at the next opportunity.
My chance came a few days later. I was up earlier than usual, so I went down to tend the tree. The kitchens were still quiet, the palace still practically asleep. Walking the halls with the buckets of water, it felt like I was back in those weeks of the Hollow. The tree was still healthy and blooming, the flowers’ fragrance perfuming the entire courtyard.
After I finished my first inspection and watering of the tree, I noticed Moriel standing at the edge of the courtyard. My heart began to pound a rhythm that felt glorious. I smiled at him as he stepped out into the dawn light.
“I was up, so I thought I’d come down to see the tree. I hope I’m not intruding.”
I shook my head. “Of course not. It’s good to see you here, it’s been a while.”
He nodded. “Yes. Everything is so busy now. You must be inundated with plans.”
“Not too many; my father’s handling most of it. As it turns out, I’m not too particular about the details of the event, so long as it happens.”
“Well, it’s going to be a huge affair. A birthday and a coronation.”
I began my last circuit around the tree, touching the leaves and the branches and the blossoms. Life was brimming through the tree and I felt it give me strength.
“I thought I might make it a birthday, a coronation, and a wedding.”
I was on the other side of the tree now, so I couldn’t see Moriel’s face. But there was a pause, in which my heart raced and my hands trembled against the tree, before he said, “Whose wedding?”
I came around the other side of the tree and gave him a look. “My wedding. Who else would it be?”
Moriel ducked his head, conceding the point. I turned my back to him and pressed my hands to the trunk and listened. I could hear the life of the tree, the town square loud with shouts of joy and activity, a sound that thrilled me still, even though the tree and kingdom had been healthy for months now.
“Who are you marrying?” Moriel asked.
I opened my eyes and turned around. Moriel was looking down at the flagstones.
“You.”
His face shot up to mine.
“If you will have me.”
He looked at me, the surprise in his eyes. He seemed incapable of speaking, so after a few moments of us just staring at each other, I smiled and continued.
“I love you, Moriel. I like you as a human being, I love you as a friend, and I am in love you as the person I want to make a life with. I want to spend every day with you. I want to have a family with you. I want to rule this kingdom with you. I love you. I offer myself, all that I am and all that I have and all that I ever will be. You already have my heart, I hope you’ll take the rest of me. Moriel, will you marry me?”
I didn’t have to wait long for an answer. I saw the grin spreading across his face as I finished speaking and then he was coming towards me and lifting me up and twirling me around and saying, “Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!”
I held onto him as we whirled around, our laughter filling the courtyard. At last, we stopped spinning, and Moriel put me down, but we didn’t let go of each other. He pressed his forehead against mine, his smile as bright as the sun.
“I love you, Adira. I’ve loved you for so long. You are the delight of my soul. My queen.”
I was trembling, the joy and love simply too much to contain. My face began to hurt from smiling so much, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“May I kiss you?”
I laughed, looking into the face that meant so much to me now. “Yes. Yes, you may. Yes, please.”
He leaned down to press his lips to mine. If I hadn’t known it existed before, I was certain now that magic was real.
And around us, I heard the tree rustling, a sign I took as approval of my choice.
Chapter Twenty
The day of my birthday, my coronation, and my wedding dawned clear and bright. I slipped down to tend the tree. It didn’t matter that today would be one of the most important days in my life. There were somethings that would never change and my duty to the tree and kingdom would be one of them.
When I pressed my hands to the tree’s trunk, I heard a cheering crowd, a jubilation. The kingdom knew what today was and the tree reflected the excitement and happiness of my people. I turned around to leave and my father stood in the courtyard. I went to him, arms outstretched to hug him.
“Happy birthday, my Adira.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“I have gift for you.”
“You needn’t have. I have everything I could possibly want.”
He handed me a little box. I opened it to see a pair of gold earrings, studded with emeralds, in the shapes of trees.
“These were a gift I gave your mother. Now it is a gift from both of us to you, for your birthday and for your wedding.”
Moriel and I had gone to my father the day I had proposed. We presented our engagement to my father, who took the news stoically. He asked to speak with Moriel alone. I waited outside my father’s new study, since his old one was now mine, while they spoke. When they had finished, my father asked to speak with me alone. Passing Moriel on the way out, I saw a small smile on his face, so I wasn’t too worried.
“Are you sure, Adira?”
“Yes, Father, I am.”
“He is good man, smart and capable. But it is unusual. This will be the first wizard to marry into the royal line.”
“Do you think there will be objections?”
“I doubt it. Or no more objections than there were when your grandfather married your grandmother, who was a commoner. There will be talk, but ultimately, the law of the kingdom places this decision on you alone to make. The people will accept it. I just want to be sure that this is what you truly want. Adira, I would not want you to marry someone because you thought you were in love with him when he was the only one around.”
I shook my head, smiling at my father’s concern. “I wasn’t in love with him during those months. I got to know him as a person then, as a friend. But I fell in love with him after that, Father, when the Hollow was gone and Espera was safe again. Seeing him after that, with other people, working and living in this palace, that was when it began. I love him, Father. With all my heart.”
He had sighed. “Then I hope he will always be deserving of you. Your mother would have approved as well.”
Seeing the earrings now, a gift from both of my parents, I made no attempt to stop my tears. I kissed my father’s cheek and hugged him. “Thank you, Father.”
“I wish your mother could have been here this day.”
I wished it too. But then I felt the tree rustling behind us and I smiled. “Her spirit is still here. I know it.”
I returned to my room and began to get ready. Helaine and several other maids attended on me, as I bathed and dressed for the day. The coronation would take place around noon, immediately followed by the wedding ceremony.
“There will be no trouble remembering our anniversary,” Moriel had joked when we’d finalized the plans. “But your coronation day should be yours alone. Are you sure you want to share it with our wedding?”
I had pulled him into a nook of the palace and kissed him soundly, before telling him, “The coronation is about me and Espera, the future of our kingdom together. It is not my day alone. The wedding will be about us, a day I will be honored to share with you. The only thing about that day that is solely about me is my birthday. Consider our wedding my birthday gift to me, since I will go home with best present of all, you as my husband. And besides, why should we have to bother with more than one celebration and all the fuss and hassle when we can celebrate everything on one day and save everyone the trouble?”
Moriel had conceded with a smile. My father had agreed with the plan. It was the hardest to convince Helaine. Once she had been told the happy news, of which she heartily approved, she immediately began to envision a celebration that seemed to last forever when she spoke about it. Eventually she came around to the idea of it and only rolled her eyes every other day at the prospect of having three celebrations all in one day.
Helaine sat me down in front of the mirror and began to arrange my hair. There were no eye rolls today. She was glowing with joy for me.
“How do you feel?” she asked as she toweled my wet hair dry.
“Can you die of too much happiness?”
“I do not think so. I sure hope not.”
I grinned. “Good, or I would be on the point of expiration.”
There was a knock at the door. In came some of the maids with breakfast for all of us, which was a welcome sight. After the pastries were passed around, one of the maids handed me a small bottle and a bouquet of flowers.
The bottle was a gift of perfume from my new family, Moriel’s parents and brothers. I opened the bottle and the room filled with the very essence of summer. We were nearing the end of a mild winter, but the scent of summer life was still welcome.
I had been nervous to meet them, but they had welcomed me graciously and warmly into their family. Moriel’s mother and father were kind and thrilled for their son.
“It is clear how much he cares for you,” his mother had said, holding my hands in hers. “And you for him. You will look after him, won’t you?”
I squeezed her hands. “For the rest of my life.”
His brothers were excited at the prospect of having a sister, just as much as I was to finally have brothers.
“And if he gives you any trouble, just let us know. We can tell you all the ways we tortured each other as children,” one of them said after giving me a hug upon meeting me.
“And all his secrets and his flaws,” the other said, grinning. “Though I suppose we should tell you the flaws now, while you still have a chance to run.”
Moriel had responded with joking threats and I had envisioned future family gatherings filled with laughter.
“That’s very thoughtful of them,” I said, reading the note with the perfume.
“And these, your highness.” The maid handed me the flowers, which were beautiful. I thanked her and read the note.
For my Queen – Happy Birthday. All my love, Moriel
I smelled the flowers before giving them to one of the maids to put in a vase. They would be my flowers for the wedding.
The morning seemed to pass in a blur after that. I sat and talked with the women as my hair was styled and cosmetics were applied to my face. I wasn’t paying much attention, letting the flurry of work happen around me, until I looked up and saw my face in the mirror.
“Do you like it?” Helaine asked.
I smiled and nodded. “Thank you. You’ve all done beautiful work.”
“We had a beautiful canvas to start with.”
It was now time to get into the dress. I was able to get in and out of the dress by myself, as I had said long ago, but I let Helaine and the others help me. The dress was a simple silhouette in fabrics of white, silver, and gold, encrusted with emeralds and pearls. I had initially argued against the extravagance, but everyone had insisted.
“It’s not every day you become an adult, a wife, and a queen,” Helaine said smugly when I had finally conceded.
I could hear people milling in the courtyard. The coronation and the wedding ceremony would happen under the tree, as was tradition and ritual. I felt a bubble of nervousness brimming in me, but it wasn’t from fear.
The last things to put on were my jewelry. I put on the earrings from my parents and the star necklace. I then put on the bracelets Moriel had given me at our engagement celebration.
“Made of moonlight,” he’d told me, slipping one over each of my wrists. The metal rested coolly against my skin, shimmering in the darkness.
“You’re going to give me the whole sky, aren’t you?” I’d laughed.
“I just might.”
My fingers and head remained bare, for now.
I stood up and Helaine made a few adjustments to my dress and my hair. While she did, I picked up the diary I had kept during the Hollow. The day we’d opened the gates was the last day I’d put in this diary; I’d started a new one the next day. I would start a new diary tonight, with this new chapter of my life.
I had read through the diary several times over the past months. Some readings made me laugh, seeing how silly I had been, some made me cry, taking me back to a time of fear and worry. Today I flipped through the pages until I found the entry on the day I’d swung a wooden sword around a corner.
Moriel is here, I’d written. He’s here, in the castle, and he’s been here the whole time, since the evacuation. Apparently, he and Helaine planned this so I wouldn’t be alone. I am so angry with them for disobeying my orders and for doubting me. But…but I am also happy. There I wrote it. I am happy he’s here. I’m not alone. I won’t be alone anymore.
I smiled at the page. I hadn’t been alone since that day and now I wouldn’t be alone ever again.
At last, it was time to go. There was a knock at the door, and it was my father, dressed in his formal royal clothes, ready to escort me. Helaine went to quickly change her dress and join Lillian down below, the other maids likewise left to take their places along the corridors of the courtyard.
“Ready?”
I nodded, closing the diary and putting it down.
“Then let us go, Princess Adira.”
It was the last time anyone would call me princess.
Walking into the courtyard, everyone bowed and curtsied as we passed. I spotted Moriel and his family in the rows of people. I would have loved to stop and just stare at him, in his official wizard uniform, but I couldn’t. The high wizard of Espera was standing under the tree waiting to crown me.
My father kissed my forehead, before stepping back into the throng of people standing in the courtyard. I took the last steps on my own.
The high wizard welcomed me and spoke the ancient words of Espera, passed down through the generations, to crown a new royal.
“In the presence of your people and the tree of Espera, do you hereby swear to serve and protect this kingdom, uphold its traditions and customs, defend the rights of its people from forces who would hurt them, and guard the tree, Espera’s source of life?”
“I hereby swear to do so, as long as I live.”
The high wizard placed the crown on my head, the one I had only ever seen my mother wear, a crown of gold, with emerald leaves. I turned around to face my people.
“All hail, Queen Adira of Espera,” the high wizard declared.
“All hail, Queen Adira of Espera!” echoed the crowd.
The courtyard erupted in cheers. My father and Helaine were crying. Elize stood with her family and was cheering as loud as she could. Moriel was beaming next to his parents and brothers. I held my head up high and I felt I was capable of anything.
When the cheers had subsided, I stepped forward and gestured for Moriel. He took my hand and I led him to the tree.
“I have come this day to be wed to this man, my chosen partner.”
“Do you both come willingly?”
“I do.”
“I do,” Moriel said.
Helaine stepped forward and handed me the bouquet of flowers. Moriel grinned at me.
The high wizard proceeded with the wedding ceremony. We vowed to love and honor and cherish each other as long as we both lived.
The wizard produced a small needle. We pricked each other’s fingers, so that both of our blood could fall onto the trees’ roots. We then reached our hands up to one of the low hanging branches of the tree. I could feel the life of the tree pulsing beneath my fingertips. The tree shifted beneath our touch and I saw leaves sprouting and growing before our eyes until our fingers were encased in them. Moriel’s eyes were wide with wonder. After a few minutes, the leaves released our fingers and we drew our hands away.
“The tree recognizes your union as a bond for the ages. Please exchange rings.”
My father brought forward the ring for me to give to Moriel. It was a simple gold band. It had been my mother’s, which we had gotten resized. Moriel had been touched and honored to learn that the ring he would wear had been my mother’s. I placed it on his finger.
Moriel brought out his ring for me, a simple gold band as well. But as he slipped it on my finger, I could feel the heat of it. My eyes held a question which Moriel leaned forward to whisper in my ear, an answer only I could hear. “Made from sunlight. I have given you the sun, the moon, and the stars. You still shine the brightest of them all.” He leaned back, smiling, and I grinned at him, my heart thudding happily.
“You are now wedded for life, partners in your present and your future.”
And so, we were married. We kissed, and the courtyard erupted in cheers once more.
The celebration moved to the banquet halls of the palace. There was food and dancing and talking. As we danced for the first time as husband and wife, and for the first time in front of people, Moriel said it was a good thing we’d had all that time to practice. We mingled with our guests, talking with family and friends.
As the sun set and the moon rose, people began to leave. We said goodbye to each guest as they left. At last, the hall was empty, except the servants cleaning up. We thanked them for their work before we left.
“Good night, Your Majesty.”
It was going to take some time to get used to that.
Moriel and I stopped in the courtyard. I leaned against him and he held me close. We didn’t need to say anything. We both already knew what was in each other’s heart.
The tree rustled a greeting and I smiled.
While I hoped that Moriel and I would always be happy, the one thing I knew for certain was that we would always be together. That was enough to be happy about ever after.
The End
Author’s Note: So we have come to the end of Adira’s story. While she might have wished for things to be different, that somethings had never happened, Adira has made it through all the horrible things to the other side where peace, happiness, and good times can be found again. Horrible things may still happen in the future, but with the people she loves by her side and her newfound strength and belief in herself, I am confident Adira is ready to face anything as she and Moriel go off into their ever after together.
Thank you for coming on this journey with me and letting me share my joy with you. It has been an honor and a pleasure. I hope you will join me again someday soon!
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