Once I began to speak,words spilled out of me like water out of a broken dam. I gave her an overview of what growing up with the centaurs was like and explained what I learned, day to day: training, hunting, cooking, and learning about the gods and goddesses. I told her about Epona and her wise teachings, but I didn’t tell her what it was like being the only human among the centaurs, and how I had to prove myself to my peers.
Mother squeezed my hand from time to time as she listened. Her face changed as I spoke, always calm, and still, keenly taking in the information and deciding what to do with it. When I came to the last part—the events that happened as I searched for her—I spoke plainly, only leaving out my feelings about each incident. I told her about my encounter with Jezebel and what happened at the vale. She did not seem surprised to hear about the seer who warned me away, nor of Romulus’s tale about the demons seeding and taking root in the kingdom of men. When at last I finished, exhausted and emotionally drained, she merely nodded and her eyes sought the fire.
“You must have many questions for me,” she said. “It is not common that anyone question the queen, let alone her own children. We are of royal blood and we must do what is best for the kingdom of men and all those who dwell in Labraid. Aofie, I made some difficult choices, which have led to this moment and this conversation between you and I.”
She lifted her hands, pointing to the rafters. “I used the magic of elves and fairies to camouflage this house so that only my blood may find it. The trees see it, as do the fairies, but most are blind to it. Today the larks sang in the meadow and there were no trolls in the trees. I hoped today might be the day you came.”
She fell silent as the dancing flames burned lower and lower. She also followed the odd method of building fire with wood. I hoped it was dead wood and not from the life-giving trees of the forest. Despite the excitement of the day and my relief at finding her, a wave of tiredness washed over me. I desperately wanted her to love me and I wanted to belong, but although she tried to hide it, something else darkened her eyes, covered by a layer of her words. It pained that I did not know my own mother. As much as we were bound by blood, she was a stranger to me. It was impossible to tell what was in her heart as far as my fate was concerned.
“Mother.” The term felt strange on my lips. “What happened?”
The vague, open-ended question hung in the air, driving a wall between us. It was a veiled question and we both knew it. I wanted to know, what happened to the kingdom of men? Where was the king and who was my real father? What happened the night of my birth to make them run so far and fast, never to return? They’d even settled down and had more children, using magic to hide them. What was she waiting for? Me? And if so, what did she expect me to do? It was impossible for me to take up the kingdom, to fight the angel of death with nothing but my two hands.
Mother remained silent. She pressed a hand to her mouth and a small sound came from the back of her throat, like a gasp or a raw cry. One hand went to her bosom, where she fumbled with the laces of her dress. I glanced away, embarrassed, until she pulled a thin package from between her breasts. I’d seen parchment once or twice in my life, and assumed this was what humans called a letter. The parchment was folded and sealed with a red stamp that looked like blood with a design drawn in it.
When she faced me again, there were tears in her eyes, although her voice rang out strong. “I used to be queen of the kingdom of men, but I’m not going back to that dark kingdom. They suck the feelings out of you, until you’re nothing but dry bones, moving witlessly from choice to choice, like the ice people. They break your heart and then break your bones. Watch out for them. Nay, this is a better home, a better choice. Although I owe you an explanation, I cannot look at you and speak the dreaded words I must say.” She held out the letter. “They taught you how to read, didn’t they?”
A cold sliver of fear crept through me. I nodded but my fingers shook as my eyes studied the parchment. An evil aura hissed across those pages, and the room darkened. Did I want to know the truth? Suddenly I wanted to throw the letter into the fire and speak no more of dark things. I just wanted to be safe, like I was in the Beluar Woods, and have a place where I belonged, and to know who I was, and to be loved. Yet as indecision toyed with me, I know it was not my fate, just as surely as the gods had spoken to me. I was of royal blood; I had a responsibility I could not flee. Besides, there was no choice left to me, except when and where I’d read the letter. Slowly I took it and pressed it into my lap, dreading what the words would say.
“I will not tell you when to read it, or how to react,” Mother said. “You are entitled to live and feel; you do not have a court which will keep you down. You are trained as a warrior and I sense your strength flowing through you, but I also see, as I assumed, you do not know how to use your magic. Your quest begins here, and within those words you shall discover your past, but you will also have a guide to your future. You are foremost my daughter, but you are also a princess, a warrior princess, and, as my firstborn, heir to the kingdom of men. Behind the words of darkness and devastation, you must find hope and keep going. As I have.”
“You have children,” I whispered, unable to keep the bite of envy out of my tone. “Other children.”
If my mother saw my misery, she ignored it. Instead, she stood and held out her hands. “Come meet them and you will see what we have wrought. The sun burns low. Call your companions. It’s time to meet the elders.”
One by one we went down the ladder into darkness. Soft light flickered in the distance and the curved walls of a tunnel widened. I smelled dirt and fire, and something else rich and deep. The tunnel widened as we walked, and then a bend came, and a sharp corner. Around it, the tunnel opened up into a wide hall. Within it were people, more people than I’d seen at the inn in the vale. Low murmurs brushed through the room like the down feathers of a bird.
When my mother stepped into the room, they paused. All eyes turned toward her, and those who had been sitting at a long table rose. In one movement they clasped their hands together and bowed their heads.
There were men, women, and children, ranging from infants to elderly. Some of them wore long robes, others wore short shifts, and some wore tunics. Their faces were somber, and they looked to their queen.
“All rise,” she ordered.
Her voice thundered out and sailed across the cavern. Even the lights wavered under her command and a hush settled over the room.
“My long-lost daughter, Aofie Mor, has returned.” She reached for my hand and held it up. “Tonight, we celebrate!”
A cheer rose from the hall. As the people clapped, a shudder went through me. The letter my mother had given me burned in my heart and I wanted to read it, but I was frightened of what it would say. I glanced behind me, where Romulus and Takari stood, hoping the sight of their faces would give me courage.
Romulus crossed his arms but his expression did not change. He seemed far away already, cold and aloof. I shuddered. Takari smiled and the blue swirls on her brown skin glimmered.
Mother’s eyes narrowed, and she gritted her teeth. “No magic is allowed here.”
I squared my shoulders as my mother took my arm and we walked into the midst. The celebration was nothing like ones the centaurs of the Beluar Woods held. I sat with Mother and her children, my siblings, who eyed me with unfriendly expressions. Food turned to dust in my throat and I found I wasn’t as hungry as I thought I would be. My gaze kept drifting to where my companions were and the dark walls seemed to close in on me. My breath came slow, and then fast, and a dizziness set in. The air was dense, too close, and then Mother pulled me away. “I see. Too much for you today.” She pressed me toward someone else. “Let her rest.”
Wearily, I followed a woman deeper into the underground haven, where the dark skies flourished and the pale lights welcomed me to the kingdom underground. I did not want to be there. I wanted light and sunshine and the feel of nature. Even as the woman led me to a bed, I lay down and saw my magic flash around me, vivid, purple—fear. Unbidden tears pricked my eyes. I curled up into a ball. The relief I felt at finding my mother was overshadowed by a deep emptiness. It was nothing like I had imagined and even though she’d received me with kindness, perhaps even love, something was missing. I should have been happy but I held back sobs until sleep claimed me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A sound awoke me,the slow steady hum of breathing, in and out. It was dark. When I held up my hand, it was too dark to see it. I remembered where I was and suddenly it felt as though the earth were pressing down on me, hemming me in, clogging my thoughts, my mind, my throat. The sudden need to move, to go to an open space and find light, came over me.
Untangling my legs from the light blanket that covered me, I swung my legs over the bed and almost fell over a sleeping form. I vaguely recalled Takari slipping in to join me, the blue shimmers of the runes on her skin giving off an odd glow in the darkness. Or maybe it was wishful thinking. I fumbled for the letter. Might as well read when I found the light.
Bile rose in my throat but I swallowed it down and slipped into a hall. As I’d hoped, torchlight flickered uneasily at one end and I set off toward it, noting I traveled through the mud and gloom. The pages of parchment felt like a secret in my hands, and I swallowed hard repeatedly, nervous about reading the words but knowing I did not want to draw out the suspense any longer. When I reached the torch, I settled down in its glow, cross-legged, with my back against the dirt wall. It felt warm and smelled homely, but what I’d give for the rush of sweet wind in the pines or the cool waters of the brook.
The Beluar Woods still felt like my true home, even though I’d found my mother.But she had other children aside from me, I thought bitterly. As much as I wanted to spend time with her and regain lost years, she was not just my mother. I had to share her with others, and she was a queen, although kingdom-less. Others regarded her with respect. They would follow all of her commands, regardless of what they were. Again, I wondered, what had happened to the king? Where was he?
Breaking the seal on the letter, I unfolded the pages, hoping they would shed some light on my quest. The torch flickered over the first page, revealing words penned in a flowing cursive, poignant and beautiful. It took me a moment to adjust my eyes to the flow of the words. I’d been taught crude writing, but the letters were the same, although elongated in places, curved and slanted, and bubbly in others. It gave a smooth cadence to the writing, and I wondered why others did not write this way. Clearly this was the hand of a queen.
