Call of Kythshire (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 1) (37 page)

“Aren’t you cold?” she asks, eying my bare arms. Her eyes are green. Jungle green. Prettier, though. I shrug. “Raefe.” She tugs the cloak of the boy beside her. Hes an older boy, with his own spyglass. He cranes his neck to peer over the crowd through it. He’s bundled. All of them are, in fur wraps and thick woven hats and strips of weaving that wind round their necks up to their noses. The girls have soft, round, pillow-like tubes which they slip their hands into to keep them warm. The colorful ribbons that trail from them flutter in the wind.

“The carriage is coming. It’s going slow,” he says on tiptoe. “Wish we could climb up on something.”

“Nessa said no climbing, Raefe,”  says another girl with a bossy tone. “It’s too icy.” This girl is  older than the first, and very prim-looking.

“Can you see the prince? Or the princess? Can you see her round belly?” An even younger boy hops, trying to see over the crowd. “Let me look!”

“Ruben!” The prim girl scowls and pokes the boy. “Don’t be disrespectful!”

“Rae.” The first girl tugs the older boy again. “I need a cloak.”

“In my bag, Saesa.” Raefe leans toward her, still watching. “No, can’t see inside the carriage. The curtains are closed. They might open them when they get closer.”

“I want to see!” The youngest of them tugs at Raffe while Saesa rummages through his shoulder bag.

“Here.” She pulls out a thick woolen cloak, dyed green, and hands it to me. I eye it. “Don’t be so suspicious,” she says. “It used to be Raefe’s but it’s too small now. It’s still good, though. Rube didn’t want it, so Nessa said find someone who could use it. It has a hood and everything.” She nudges me with it. My teeth chatter, but I don’t accept. A drink is one thing, but this cloak is expensive. A gift is a trick, my Nan would say. Don’t trust it. Anyone who gives freely just wants power over you. It’s true. I’ve seen it happen.

“Here they come. They’ve opened the curtain, too!”

“Let me  up, Rae-rae,” the youngest girl whines.

“Hold on tight, Emmie,” Raefe says as he hefts her to his shoulders. She squeals and waves to the carriage. I feel the cloak drape my shoulders and wrap snug round my arms. Sae smiles at me as she ties the laces closed. Then she ducks to peek through the mass of the crowd in front of us. I should protest, but I don’t. It’s warm. Nice.

“Stay with them.”

Yes, I should stay with them. The crowd around us cheers, and the carriage glints golden and purple and burnished wood in flashes as it moves past. Those before us bow, and so do I as it passes. But I’m one of the first to look up.

“Hail, Prince Eron! Hail Princess Amei!” The crowd calls out. Inside the carriage, the princess waves happily. She is wrapped in clouds of lavender. Her skin is a dark color I haven’t seen before. Rich and brown.  Beside her, the prince looks pale but strong. He smiles and nods to those who call his name. His eyes are distant, though. Troubled. I wonder if anyone else notices. The crowd throws favors. Beside me, Saesa gasps.

“Oh, there she is! There she is, Rae!” She bounces with excitement and points to a rider far back in the escort. “Azaeli!” she cries.

The knight is shorter than the other riders around her, but different. Her armor is blue like midnight with stars that flash and dazzle in the sunlight reflected off of her white cloak. The flag she waves is blue and gold check. A great two-handed sword is strapped to her saddle. Her face is covered to her cheeks with her helm. She grins and waves at Saesa, who squeals with delight.

“Azaeli.”

Yes, Azaeli. I watch carefully. Others in blue and gold ride beside her. Proud. Tall. Each one more different than the next. I try to pick out their professions. Five warriors, one a giant of a man. An archer with pointed ears. Two Mages. Two healers, but one of them might not be part of the group. He’s got no gold or blue.

A score of royal guard follow those, and behind them trail a group of subjects who have chosen to walk behind the procession to the gates.

“Will they escort him all the way to Highcastle?” Ruben, the younger boy, asks.

“Just to the crossroads,” Saesa answers. “Then the Lake Guard will take them the rest of the way. Oh, imagine it! They could meet any kind of adventure out there! Bandits and bandywilgits. Or trolls! I’ll bet Sir Azaeli could take out twenty trolls.”

“Oh, honestly, Saesa!” the bossy girl chides. “Only you would dream of being the knight. Imagine being the princess, whisked off to a romantic castle to be pampered and served while waiting for the royal heir to arrive. Strolling by the lake with Prince Eron...” she sighs dreamily. “I heard it’s warmer there. Better for the baby.”

“What does a princess do but sit around all day? I’d rather have adventure! Azi is the first knight her age in decades! Imagine that!”

“Well, I heard,” Ruben pipes up, “that the real reason is they’re sending the prince away—”

“Ruben.” Raefe warns as the people in front of us turn curiously. He lowers Emmie to the street and stretches his neck from side to side. “Time to go home,” he says. “Take Lilen’s hand, Emmie.”

“Yes, don’t gossip in the streets like a louse, Ruben.” Lilen grabs Emmie’s hand and gives the boy a disapproving look. Beside her, Saesa rolls her eyes and turns to me.

“You have a place to go?” she asks. I shake my head. “Come on, then.” She pulls me along with them, and I let her.

Ice. Ribbons fluttering. Red curls bouncing. Sweets. Running. Sliding. Laughter. Warmth.

“We’re home!” everyone calls out as we tumble through the door out of the cold. Inside is bright and grand. Rich. Like a palace. They all sit. Pull off their boots. Line them neatly on the side of the carpet. Fold their wrappings and stow them in the carved cupboard. I don’t. My boots are new. My gloves are new. I won’t lose them.

“Stay here.”

Yes, stay here. A woman with a baby on her hip appears at the top of the twisting staircase. She smiles and presses a finger to her lips.

“Garsi just went down,” she says in a hushed voice. “Into the sitting room with you. Luncheon soon.” Her feet are light on the polished stone stairs even holding the baby. Her dress is fine. It shimmers in the light from the high windows. “Oh, and you’ve brought a friend.” Her smile is bright. Kind. I look away from it.

“Yes, can he stay?” Saesa pleads. Lilen rolls her eyes. Raefe ushers the others to the sitting room. How strange, I think, to have a room just for sitting.

“Well, it isn’t my place to say, is it? You’ll have to ask Nessa. Go on, then. Take Errie with you.” She gives the wiggling baby to Saesa. Goes through another door, letting out the mouthwatering aroma of fresh baked bread and stew. Saesa adjusts the baby. Tugs my arm.

“Come on,” she says. “Meet Nessa.”

She doesn’t tell me to take off my boots, so I don’t. I walk on the thick carpet with them. I wonder what it would feel like on my toes. Soft. Like sand, maybe. The sitting room is fine. Elegant. Lots of fancy furniture and thick draperies and baubles. Expensive things. Sparkling things. Things that serve no purpose but to be looked at and not touched. The lady on the sofa fits right in. Her skirts are all ruffles that take up most of the seat and spill to the floor. Bright green, like the cloak. Enough fabric to clothe all of the girls. But they are dressed prettily enough on their own.

Emmie runs to the sofa and climbs up, trampling the gown. The lady beams. Hugs her. Kisses her face, still sticky with sweets. Sets her book on the side table as she lovingly takes the baby from Saesa. Her eyes twinkle as the rest swarm to hug and kiss and pile together onto her skirts.

“So, did you see the prince, then?” Her voice is filled with affection and amusement.

“Oh, yes, and the princess,” Emmie kneels on her lap, facing her. Reaches to Nessa’s perfectly done hair. Twirls a lock around her finger. It’s black, not red like Saesa’s or blonde like Lillen’s.

“And Azaeli.” Saesa says with excitement.

“All of His Majesty’s Elite were there. And a score of High Guard, just like you thought,” Raefe says as he leans against the grand hearth. I edge closer to its warmth, listening as the rest recount every detail of the procession. Details I didn’t notice, but that seem to interest Nessa very much. The crackling fire reminds me of the towers. The flames. The smoke as it rose into the night sky. My task accomplished. My new life begun.

Stay here.

Yes, I’ll stay here. Here, where they’ll never suspect me. Here, where I’ll be safe.

Call of Sunteri is coming to Amazon November 24, 2015. Be sure to sign up for my mailing list for updates on this and other upcoming titles!
www.missysheldrake.com

When I began writing this book, I wanted to tell a story that would entice its readers and take them away to a place of beauty, wonder, and love. I wanted to create something that could be enjoyed by both the young and the young at heart. I’m so grateful to God for the inspiration that came to me while I was writing. I’m thankful to my husband James and my son Wesley, who were both so supportive and encouraging during the writing process.

I’m also very grateful to the following readers who were kind enough to take the time to explore Call of Kythshire before it was published: Emily Derrick, Mckayla Ford, Bonnie Hatch, Abby Venetsanos, Angie Venetsanos, and Debra White. Your encouragement in my writing ability and your advice has always been invaluable to me, and I will always be grateful to you.

To Stacy Marans and Karri Klawiter, I am indebted to you both for your expert advice on the design of my book cover. I am many things, but a graphic designer is definitely not one of them. I’m sure the look of my cover would have suffered greatly if not for your help. Thank you so much.

Finally to Ellisa Barr, who helped me with too many things to list here: Thank you for inspiring me to start, and for seeing me through to the end.

Thank you all, and I hope you enjoy Call of Kythshire!

Missy Sheldrake lives in Northern Virginia with her amazingly supportive husband, brilliant son, and very energetic dog. Aside from filling the role of mom and wife, Missy is a mural painter, sculptor, and illustrator. She has always had a fascination with fairies and a great love of fairy tales and fantasy stories. Call of Kythshire is her first novel.

You can see more of her work on her website:
www.missysheldrake.com