Cursed by Diamonds (A Dance with Destiny Book 1) (13 page)

Chapter 13

Wynford

(WIN-ford)

When Jenevier locked the door, she fell upon the bed and smothered her cries in a pillow. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

“What should I do, Aunt Marlise? What should I do?”

Tears silently poured from the corners of her eyes, trickling back to soak her tangled hair. She pulled herself upright in the middle of that big feather bed, looking so dainty and frail… so alone. And there, bathed in the glorious morning light, a fierce determination began growing in her sad eyes.

“It’s the only way,” she whispered. “My last chance. My
only
chance.”

Wiping her eyes, she sat down at the beautiful writing desk once gifted to her by her great grandmother, Bellevine.

Long before Jenevier was born, Bellevine had a vision in which she saw her great granddaughter being carried into the world upon the back of a great winged cat. This ferocious cat obsessively protected the small child until the day it was beckoned to return from whence it came. The moment the guardian cat left her alone, a huge troll sprang from the ground, grabbing the young maiden… and the vision ended.

Bellevine hadn’t lived to see Jenevier’s real birth. But she spoke often of the babe in her dreams and left her many wonderful treasures upon her passing. This beautiful writing desk was but one of them.

Jenevier sat down and began to write…

My Dearest Jezreel,

You are my faithful companion, twin sister of my heart, and the only true friend I have ever known.

I know not what will become of me once I leave this peaceful little haven of Tamar Broden, but I feel Aunt Marlise is with me. She is pleading with me to make haste toward the Mountains of Thralldom.

I wish for your company now more than I have at any other time in my life. Alas, this journey is one I must make alone.

I am leaving you one of the family pieces from my great grandmother. Your favorite—the jewel encrusted locket with the unknown ancient script engraved within. Please use it as best you see fit. It should bring an awesome price at the market. Mind the home for us, Jezreel. Sell what you must, but keep what you can.

You will be a great healer someday, dear friend. Continue on with Aunt Marlise’s work. Make the medicines and potions for the village. And don’t forget to tend the herb gardens. You will excel in the craft, I just know it.

I will return here as soon as I can obtain the cure I seek. Until then, I will be nothing but a curse upon you, upon Alastyn, and upon this whole village.

Do as you will, Jezreel, but I pray you do not spend this night here in our home, lest those Shadow Wraiths return and take you out of anger.

I miss you already, my dear sweet friend. My heart will be broken until I return here to you once again.

Tell Alastyn, one day… I promise to return the great favor he bestowed upon me this past night. That young man stirred something unknown within me. His gentle touch and strong arms will remain on my mind until I can see him once more. Until we get to finish what was only just started between us, I will hold him as precious within my heart. I feel his bravery and valor will grow to Elven heights, as have other honorable warriors before him.

With Every Piece of My Breaking Heart,

~ Jenevier

She carefully placed the locket atop the letter and hurriedly began packing all she would need. She packed the book of spells and marks, a bottle of fresh rosewater, some clothing, and the potion #4. That little treasure was Marlise’s rarest magic indeed—painstakingly crafted to be perfect for her and her alone. Thus was the greatness of such a gift.

She packed a few hair ribbons, all of the other heirloom jewels she had inherited, an old dagger Marlise kept hidden in a trunk, and what little money she had managed to save up. Jenevier wished desperately to pack some of the sweet cakes she could smell Jezreel making. The aroma alone made her tummy growl. But she knew they would never allow her to leave once they realized her intentions.

She stood, silently listening to the faint whispers coming from the kitchen. She wanted to give Jezreel a big hug. And the thought of kissing Alastyn goodbye caused a tingling quiver down deep within her. They had been denied their kiss. And the thought of what it would feel like—his perfect lips pressed against hers—left her a bit light-headed.

Perhaps, one day, my beautiful warrior,
she thought
.

Closing her eyes, Jenevier took a deep breath. Lightly placing her hand on the door, she sent up a small prayer for her two friends.

Still wearing her party dress from the night before, she quietly raised the window and lowered her bag of treasures to the ground. As she climbed upon the sill, Jenevier looked back longingly just once more before slipping gracefully to the ground.

She froze when she heard a soft rap on her bedroom door. Her heart raced, fluttering like an injured butterfly. Back pressed firmly against the cold stone wall, she held her breath as Alastyn called out her name. Only when the quiet returned did she dare move.

Feeling the moist morning dew on the lush grass, she realized she’d forgotten to put on her shoes.

Aww… bloody hell. You can be such a twit sometimes.

She looked up at the open window. It was just too high to climb back in without making an awful lot of noise. Mentally punishing herself for being so foolish, she determined to face whatever perils her journey cast before her—bare feet or no.

The farm behind Marlise’s modest home belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Trinken. The kindly couple didn’t go out much. She didn’t know them very well at all, but they had always waved to her when she was outside playing.

Marlise had spoken well of the Trinkens. She had mentioned many times how Mrs. Margy had the gift of sight, but was far too timid to let it be known. Mr. Wynford Trinken took care of the farm and did all their regular shopping. Margy was rarely seen around the village. But if you ever happened upon her, she was a very pleasant lady. Always holding fast to her husband, as if she was to release his hand but for an instant, she would find herself forever lost.

Jenevier had only gone a few paces when she came to the Trinken’s barn.

Thank goodness no one’s stirring yet.

As she passed by the half open barn door, her heart leapt at the sound of Mr. Trinken’s slow, drawing voice.

“Leaving, are ya?”

He didn’t look up from his work as he spoke. After she caught her breath and steadied her nerves, she found her voice.

“I believe it would be best, yes,” she said, shakily.

“Hmm… reckon so.”

Mr. Trinken was concentrating on the table in front of him, carving an intricate floral design into each corner.

“And barefoot as well,” he added.

Jenevier looked down and softly laughed with embarrassment. “Yes, well, that was a bit foolish and hasty, I do admit. But I can’t go back now.”

She glanced over her shoulder at their little stone cottage.

“Nope, guess you can’t. Don’t reckon you’ll get very far like that, though.”

She started feeling trapped, helpless. Mr. Trinken saw the doubt growing in her eyes.

“Come on in, Miss Jenevier. Maybe I can help ya.”

She took one step into the barn as the coming tears burned the backs of her eyes. She desperately tried to hold them in.

“I don’t know what else to do, Mr. Trinken. I cannot stay here. I know I am ill-prepared for the journey. But it seems that Fate’s left me alone in this trial… and I know not which way to turn.”

The tears began to spill over then, rolling slowly down her cheeks. She felt her determination and resolve fleeing, seeping out along with her burning tears.

Mr. Trinken had walked into the shadows in the back of the barn while she’d been speaking. Hearing his footsteps returning, she strained to see him in the dim light of the clouding morning.

“This here’s Epona—fastest horse in the village. She’s a bit headstrong, to be sure, but she’s all I got.”

Her tears now poured forth uncontrollably. She ran to Mr. Trinken and threw her arms around his neck.

“Calm yerself now, Milady. Don’t let yer fears master ya so.”

Jenevier stepped back and hurriedly wiped her eyes.

“I’ve already saddled her up for ya. Go ahead and pack yer stuff while I go fetch a little something from the house.”

He handed her the reins and headed for the barn door.

She carefully wrapped all her fragile treasures up inside the few clothes she’d brought, securely packing them away in the roomy saddle bags. She kept out a single golden ring. She knew not its story nor to whom it had once belonged.

But does any of that really matter now?

Mr. Trinken returned with a mug of hot spice tea, a warm loaf of bread, and his arms loaded down with goodies. She smiled gratefully and ran to help him. He half smiled in return as he placed the tea and bread down on the same table where he’d only just been working.

“Sit down there and fill yer belly, Miss Jenevier. You’ll be needing more strength than this’ll provide before yer day is over.”

She thanked him and greedily began to eat. The hot tea felt incredible as it ran throughout her body, warming and rejuvenating every cell. She closed her eyes and smiled, enjoying it wholly.

“The missus just took the loaves from the oven. She bakes ‘em with cinnamon and honey right inside.” The older man looked at Jenevier and winked. “I reckon I married the finest cook in the village.”

She laughed. “I reckon I agree with ya.”

She noticed then that he was tying a blue blanket to the back of Epona’s saddle. A large wine skin was already hanging from the horn.

“Please, don’t trouble yourself so, Mr. Trinken.”

“No trouble a’ tall, Miss Jenevier. No trouble a’ tall.”

She finished up the tea and bread about the same time he finished packing up the horse.

“The missus said you’d need a good blanket and some wine along the way. She also sent enough bread to do ya a few days. She wrapped it up good so it’ll keep for quite some time—if’n yer careful with it. Mrs. Trinken saw ya coming this way… and how poorly prepared ya were. She saw ya mostly safe unto the hills of Thralldom. After that, twern’t nothing but blackness. Not real sure what that means.”

He looked at Jenevier then, worry in his eyes.

“Your kindness is more than I deserve, Mr. Trinken.”

“No, Ma’am, it ain’t. My Margy would’ve never made it through childbirth if’n it weren’t for yer Aunt Marlise. Nope, I reckon I owe ya a great deal more than this.”

“I beg you, Mr. Trinken. Please, take this as payment for use of your horse, then.”

She held out the oversized golden ring. He took a step back.

“No, Ma’am, Miss Jenevier. No, Ma’am. I can’t take that.”

“But why, Mr. Trinken? I feel like such a burden to you already. If it were not for your incredible kindness this day, I would have surely perished on my journey. I owe you more than this old ring. I will owe you my life before this is done.”

“A life for a life then. I have my Margy’s life thanks to yer Aunt Marlise. And now ya have yer life thanks to my Margy. Debt’s all paid up and even as far as I can see.”

The old man walked over to a trunk pushed up in the corner of the barn and pulled out a pair of hand-stitched boots.

“They ain’t much, Miss Jenevier. But they’re warm, and better than nothing.”

Her broad smile sparkled. She gave him a big hug.

He blushed. “Go on now. Try’em on. Let’s see how they fit.”

She laced the soft leather up her legs, stood up and smiled.

“Well?”

She giggled. “They fit like they were made for me.”

“Well, maybe they were.” He winked at her then. “Ya can’t never tell.”

Wynford handed her Epona’s reins and she walked the horse out of the barn, silently thanking the gods for Margy’s gift of sight. Once outside, she took a deep cleansing breath and tried to prepare herself for the unknown path laid out before her.

“I can never thank you enough, Mr. Trinken.”

She reached for the saddle horn to mount Epona when Wynford grabbed her arm and looked at her, deep pity in his eyes.

“We’re powerful glad ya made it through the night, Miss Jenevier, powerful glad. I should say yer the first. There must be something extra special in yer future, little lady. God give ya speed.”

And with that, he turned to the house and left her standing there. She watched silently until the back door closed behind him.

God be with you as well, old man.

Mounting up, she took one quick look back at her house, and then she was off.

She paced Epona and let her stop often to drink and graze. While the horse ate, Jenevier relaxed. She decided they should both rest as much as possible during the day and ride hard at night, when the wraiths would be out searching.