Lillya

Lillya slept the entire next day. Well, almost. At a certain point, she awoke in bleary-eyed terror to Tansy bouncing up and down on her chest, demanding to be told about the flying horses. Chandra plucked her sister away mid-bounce, and Tansy was told to let the princess recuperate.

The next time Lillya opened her eyes, light streamed through cracks in the closed curtains, and the room was empty. She grabbed for the fruit, water, and biscuits next to her bed and battled her parched throat to down all three at once. After she had pacified her stomach, she unrolled a bandage from her arm. Only tiny scratch remnants were visible after her day of sleeping and healing. She carried the bandages across the room and set them on the table by the door.

She stared at the table, fixated on Papa’s squirrel book. Somehow she had forgotten about the Seer and her warning in the midst of her harried return last night.

The door opened, and Chandra stepped through it.

“Where’s Papa?” asked Lillya faster than Chandra could start talking. Lillya had neither the time nor the patience for Chandra’s shenanigans. “I need to talk to him.” If anyone could read that message, Papa could.

“You need a bath if ever a child needed a bath,” disagreed Chandra. “Besides, your parents are busy fretting and humoring guests.”

Lillya did need a bath. Chandra had given everyone strict orders to leave her be, so she was still covered in ash and swamp muck. The musky smell of pegasus dung seemed to be wafting from her as well. Chandra’s stance of crossed-arm determination implied the woman was not about to set her free. Halfway through a rejuvenating pounding by the waterfall pool, Lillya remembered Arlana’s exact instructions. Only Grandmama. She nearly leapt out of the waterfall half scrubbed, feeling like she would burst with her undisclosed news, but she needed to humor Chandra if she was to be free of her. The woman was extra fussy today, like she was making up for an entire week away in one afternoon. Eventually, Lillya had ribbons braided into her hair, a strand of pearls for a belt over a layered violet frock, and comfy laced boots. After a week in the woods, it was nice to be a princess again, minus the overbearing feeling of being hunted, obviously.

“Do you need anything else?” asked Chandra, admiring her handiwork.

Lillya forced herself to smile brightly and wait half a heartbeat before rushing into a “No, thank you!”

She was convincing enough, and Chandra did not stay to press her to give up her secrets. Chandra had a palace full of other people to meddle with. The second Chandra was out the door, Lillya’s fingers darted to the book and flung it open. The words were still there.

She ran all the way to Grandmama’s door, but her rapping was to no avail. Grandmama’s room was empty. She checked the schoolrooms to see if Rosaliy could help her, but the schoolrooms were full of worried parents picking up their traumatized children for the harvest break. A few families had left already. The ones remaining clutched their cream-smeared children and a few protective amulets while plying Rosaliy for answers she did not have.

“I don’t think Iris is in further danger,” Rosaliy was saying, “but I’d be lying if I told you not to be vigilant.”

Lillya hoped they would all come back in a few moons to keep training. Well…she might not be too heartbroken if bossy Jadelynn took a year or two off. At least she was able to say her goodbyes to Ruby.

“I’m worried about you,” sniffled Ruby in the middle of a teary hug.

“Rubes, nothing could attack me here,” promised Lillya. “It’s a magical fortress.”

“Then maybe I should stay here,” muttered Ruby.

Lillya wished she could, but she walked Ruby and her father to the entryway. Truth was, Ruby’s mother had just had a baby, and Ruby would be a big help to her father and mother juggling the harvest and infant care. In fact, families who were less put out by losing a daughter for moons had said no to Sorceress training. There had been little reason to practice magic for years, even though Sorceress Athena was very persuasive about the importance of the dying art. Lillya was lucky to have met Ruby at all. Would recent events make families more or less likely to relinquish their girls for magical instruction, Lillya wondered.

“I’ll miss you,” Lillya whispered with one more hug.

After the grand doors shut, the entryway was a tense quiet, like it could explode with activity at any moment. Or maybe today the entryway to the palace was the center of the activity going on in every corner, holding everything together like a multi-armed elephant on a tightrope. Probably not that last one.

She watched a few Baysellians rush across the floor and into a closed room, late for a meeting. A cook’s assistant ducked into the room next door, balancing a tray of drinks. Avia Kalilya looked down from her portrait on the wall. She was Lillya’s namesake, even though Tansy was Avia’s spitting image. Her mama’s portrait was supposed to be on that wall, but no one could paint one that would please her papa, and Mama had such little patience for portraits. After the baby, they could have one painted of the whole family, Mama had recently promised in an attempt to appease everyone. Lillya seemed to remember that was what she had said before Tansy and Taurin. Maybe there would be time if this baby did not set things on fire when it cried like Tansy had.

The man from last night exited a room and pushed the door closed silently behind him, leaning his head back against the marble hallway. He closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath. A good hostess would ask him if he needed something. She looked left and right. The entry was oddly empty except for the guard at the door who was busy guarding the door.

She cleared her throat to announce her presence, and the man jumped. Whoops.

“Hello,” she greeted him. She couldn’t remember his name. In her defense, last night was a blur all around. “Do you need anything?”

His eyebrows rose, and he hesitated. He was thinking of something impolite to say in front of a child. He would be very interesting if she could get a chance to know him, she decided, but, sadly, he would be leaving tomorrow with the rest of the Baysellians. One of her favorite books was about a Baysellian pirate named Marcos and his dog on a search for buried treasure. She had never met a Baysellian who had ever been on a search for real buried treasure, but there was always a first time. If books were to be believed, half of Bayselle was packed full of buried treasure.

“No,” he decided to say. “Thank you. How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you,” she said politely. It was the right answer. She was not sure how she was doing, really. She had not stopped to think about it. She was still on a mission. “Do you know where Grandmama Daniella is?” It was worth a try.

“I think she and Princess Tansy were going to practice carriage-making again,” he said.

Carriage…making? She shot him a befuddled look.

“Outside,” he clarified.

That was not at all what she was questioning, but it was useful information.

“Thank you,” she called, and she hurried to the door.

Nobody opened it for her.

“You’re not to leave the palace unescorted, Princess,” explained Brelin, the guard at the door.

It made sense, but it was an annoying problem to have when she needed to be outside and everyone was busy.

“I’m just going to find Grandmama,” she pointed out. “Then she would be escorting me.”

“Sorry, Princess,” Brelin apologized. “Orders are pretty specific. I’d take you, but I can’t leave my post with all the visitors coming and going. Daniella will be back in soon.”

This problem needed an immediate solution. “That man can take me.”

Brelin eyeballed her new friend, who had either not noticed he was a part of this conversation or was pretending not to notice he was a part of this conversation. This was not within the scope of Brelin’s orders, but the guard was not enthused by the idea of arguing with Lillya.

“Both of you need to be back by dinner,” Brelin warned, conceding.

Success!

“Hello,” Lillya greeted cheerfully once more as she bounced over. “Would you mind walking me outside?”

“Should you be leaving the—”

“It’s fine,” she promised quickly. “Everybody’s just on edge, and I need to talk to Grandmama.” Now. That book was burning a hole straight through her hands.

“I’m not sure where they—” began the Baysellian.

“Behind the castle,” interrupted Lillya. “Away from the windows of the meeting rooms and the Great Hall.” Where else would someone make a carriage?

He nodded, taking in this information in an accepting, easy way. They were allowed through the doors, and Lillya had to stop for a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight.

“So, you’re from Bayselle,” she prodded.

“Mmmhmm.”

“What do you do?”

There was a long pause. “Hired jobs,” he said vaguely. “Transporting goods, helping merchants run their shops, umm…looking out for wannabe revolutionaries. What’s your book about?”

His answer was boring, but changing the subject meant pirate treasure hunter for sure.

“It’s a book Papa wrote for my birthday,” she said.

Since she was being cagey about why she was carrying the book around, and he was being cagey about his pirate exploits, they were silent after that as Lillya led them around the back of the palace. Taurin and Pepper were rooting through some reeds around a pond. Grandmama and Tansy were having a conversation over a giant pumpkin. She rushed up.

“Grandmama, I need to talk to you.” But not on a field in front of her siblings who would repeat anything they heard to anyone who would listen and a man she met yesterday who may or may not have been a Baysellian treasure hunter. While that awareness dawned on her, Grandmama waited for the end of that statement, and Lillya realized she had nothing else to say right now.

“You came outside to find me and tell me you needed to talk to me,” Grandmama clarified.

“Yes,” agreed Lillya. “I did do that.”

Grandmama’s eyebrows rose, just slightly. “Message received. You’ll want to get to a safe distance.”

Lillya backed up and sat down next to Taurin, who was splayed out on the grass, playing with his toad.

The Baysellian hovered, in between leaving and staying. Whatever Tansy was in the middle of did look more interesting than a trade meeting.

“Hello, Drake!” Taurin exclaimed. “Thistle can catch crickets with his tongue.”

“Is this a safe enough distance?” Drake asked him.

The pumpkin did look significantly larger than a few moments ago.

“This is pumpkin number three,” reported Taurin.

“Oh? What happened to the other two?” Drake asked, leaning just a bit closer to leaving than staying.

Taurin rolled to the side and shaded his green eyes. “One of them turned into a bunny and hopped away.”

“Seriously?” Lillya giggled.

He nodded, bouncing his floppy, dark hair. No matter what the haircut, within a day, Taurin’s hair reverted to this. No one could figure out if he was causing it or if he had magical hair. Sometimes Lillya felt like all her mother’s incredible magical powers had passed her over and waited for the twins. Taurin was not even supposed to be magical. Life was so unfair sometimes. Maybe the new baby would be as boring as she was and she’d have someone to commiserate with.

As if to illustrate her point, Tansy’s squeal caught her attention. Where the pumpkin once was now sat a shining white carriage, gold swirls lining the windows. Tansy hopped up and down with excitement, black curls bouncing. Lillya went over to congratulate her enthusiastic little sister.

“Look, Lil,” Tansy exclaimed, a huge grin lighting up her face. “It jingles.” She flopped down on her knees to poke at the plush cushioned seats. “It’s too small, though,” complained Tansy, screwing up her face. “I can’t even fit inside.”

“Precision in the small is practice for the great,” Grandmama said, crossing her arms. She was pleased with the carriage.

“It’s the perfect size for a toad,” Lillya declared.

Taurin dropped Thistle inside for a ride back to the palace.

“Croak,” said Thistle, suddenly the most regal toad in the Glade.

“Your family is pretty incredible,” Drake said in parting back inside the palace.

Lillya smiled. He probably meant to give a compliment, but he didn’t compliment well. Maybe she was projecting, seeing as how incredible came with such a high price. She gripped the book.

“You.” Grandmama pointed at Drake before he escaped. “Take this carriage up to the children’s room.”

Nobody argued with Grandmama, so he took off with the miniature carriage.

Chandra appeared to scoop up Tansy and Taurin to get them dressed for dinner, and Lillya hurried after Grandmama. She refused to speak until she was safely closed in Grandmama’s room. Grandmama sat and fixed her blue eyes on Lillya. Sometimes it was hard to tell what she was thinking. Lillya read a book once about a Queen who had frozen the world in ice, and Lillya had her suspicions ever since about Grandmama’s true identity. There had to be a reason why Grandmama did not use magic of her own.

“Before those things attacked, I had a dream,” Lillya rushed forward. “Except I don’t think it was a dream as much as a visit while I was sleeping.” Grandmama waited and listened while she told her story all backwards and out of order. “So then,” she finished, “I was left with this message.” She opened the squirrel book and handed it over.

“The Seer told you to speak to only me?” Grandmama asked.

“Yes.”

“I wasn’t aware we were on such good terms,” murmured Grandmama, fingers running over the strange words written in the book.

“What does it say?” asked Lillya, leaning forward. “What language is it in?”

Grandmama stared at the incomprehensible words a moment more before setting the book on a side table. “I don’t know.”

Frustration and disappointment flooded into all the spaces where nervous anxiety had been. All this was for nothing?

“Why would a Flifary Seer work so hard to send you a message you couldn’t even read?”

Grandmama cocked her head. “So I couldn’t act on the message until the right time,” she murmured in response, eyes drifting back to the book.

Lillya felt a chill run through her. “I think she’s in big trouble.”

Grandmama smiled one of her chilly smiles. “There is no other reason Arlana would ask for my help.”

Grandmama was the smartest person in all the protectorates. She would figure this out. Lillya skipped off to dinner, lucky not to hear Grandmama mutter, “We’re in big trouble, Lillya. All of us.”