Rosaliy

Without any love-struck allies remaining, Rosaliy was locked away until the trio in charge was ready to leave. Since nobody wanted to haul her to the prison just to bring her back in the evening to track Daniella, there was no hope to find out who else had been taken prisoner or to try to speak to Arlana. All the frantic work of the evening stopped during the heat of the day, and Rosaliy quickly understood why as the heat in her bare stone room climbed.

She begged for water, but her pleading fell on deaf ears. Even Iketa seemed meaner than before, which hardly seemed possible. So Rosaliy slid down in a corner and tried not to fall asleep from the sweltering heat and humidity of Flifary Island during the day. All she wanted to do was curl up and hope her problems disappeared around her.

In her heat-induced despair, Rosaliy was certain anyone else trapped here would have known what to do. The Flifary never could have held Katyrinna prisoner in a locked room; she had the power to bring the temple down to the ground with a swipe of her hand. Issabeth would have single-handedly retaken the temple by now, with or without magic. Even Drake could have done something worthwhile with his time as a prisoner. She hoped he was safe. Nobody had mentioned him, so she hoped he had been forgotten in all the chaos. She never should have dragged him along in the first place. At least he would be free of the terrible love spell, assuming she ever saw him again.

From the chatter Rosaliy understood, it sounded like these rogue Flifary were disappointed by Kat's absence. They had a whole plan for her that had come to naught. And with the destruction of the divination room and the loss of the divination stone, the Flifary were running blind. Daniella and Arlana had created a window of opportunity. If only Rosaliy was doing something with that window other than feeling sorry for herself.

Her door opened and a bowl full of water was shoved into her room by a dark, bare foot. Water sloshed onto the floor as the stone bowl scraped forward. The door slammed closed. Rosaliy scrambled over. First, she shoveled the lukewarm liquid into her dry mouth with her hands. Next, she drenched the corner of her skirt and scrubbed at the foul slime drying in crusty scales all over her body. To truly rid herself of the smell of death would take an overflowing bathtub filled with salts and a complete change of clothes, but she had made a few fingerlengths of progress by the next time the door opened.

Dalor marched in. "Your lifeline is about to be clipped, so you might want to take advantage of this second chance," he announced. "What do you need to track Daniella?"

Within the throes of self-pity, Rosaliy had managed to pull together the shards of a plan. She would stall as long as she could. She rattled off a list for Dalor, throwing in a few flowers and a plant she knew would be hard to find, but she was not feeling brave enough to push her luck too far.

Her stalling techniques were to little avail. Other than fierce crankiness, Iketa's one power seemed to be an ability to whirl anyone away to any place with the swish of her hand and a blast of fog. If anything, Rosaliy's attempt to stall gave Iketa more practice using this handy talent. By sunset, Dalor had what Rosaliy needed to work her enchantment on the blood-stained handkerchief.

"How will this locate Daniella?" asked Dalor suspiciously, turning over the chunk of cloth in his hands.

If the enchantment was working properly, the handkerchief would fly to its owner like a bird, drawn by the blood connection. Right now, it fluttered feebly in Dalor's hands.

"It won't, directly," answered Rosaliy honestly, taking back the cloth bird. "That's why I have to get close."

The Flifary took Rosaliy and her little tracker to half a dozen Taragonian locations, including a farming community in the foothills and the outskirts of Taragon Castle, set into the Ascleon mountains as a grand gateway to the rocky country. Each time, the handkerchief lifted from Rosaliy's hands with a jerky swish and flapped its way straight south, sensing its closest blood match—Corin. Her little enchantment was not powerful enough to draw the fluttering bit of cloth all the way to Kianne, so after a valiant attempt, the handkerchief tumbled to a pitiful end, merely flopping sadly on the rocky ground.

"I'm losing patience," threatened Iketa, scooping up the handkerchief bird and clutching it by one struggling cloth wing. "It's time to experiment with types of harm that can penetrate your shield like, say, lighting you on fire."

With persistence, they would find some way to remove the belt. Rosaliy had stalled as long as she could stall.

"We're looking for a mining town up in the mountains," Rosaliy admitted, taking back the blood-stained bit of cloth.

With a swipe of Iketa's hand and a swirl of gray fog, they were high in the mountains at a rocky crossroads. Rosaliy gasped both to take in air that was suddenly thin and because her toes were inches from a drop to the bottom of a lofty peak. Such a fall would have ended her problems in an instant, but the children would not have been so lucky.

"Please work," Rosaliy whispered to her handkerchief bird. She had no desire to find Daniella, but she saw no other options.

The handkerchief lifted from her hands and flapped its corners, jerking erratically up the steepest path. She felt the surge of relieve of a puzzle solved. Finally. Rosaliy held up a hand to halt the odd bird, and it flapped without moving forward.

"The enchantment found Daniella," she announced.

Iketa watched the flapping cloth warily. She cocked her head to Ocery. "It's night. If you can take the ex-Queen by surprise, do it. Otherwise, do some reconnaissance and we'll make a plan."

"And where—" Dalor tried to complain.

"I need to keep temple reconstruction on track, and it's high time Arlana gave us some answers. You two will have to handle this on your own."

Ocery scowled. "And what—"

Iketa swished her hand. "Kill the Sorceress. Don't kill the Sorceress. I don't care."

Rosaliy cared.

Iketa's arms raised, and the fog swirled around her. Then, the spinning fog whooshed outward in a blast, and she was gone.

"Get moving," grunted Ocery, shoving Rosaliy forward.

Rosaliy stretched out her hand to start her cloth bird flapping on its way once more. The sun was well below the horizon, and Dalor and Ocery lit torches to illuminate a path filled with sharp drop-offs to the unforgiving rocks below. Rosaliy tried not to look down.

After a hard climb full of Ocery and Dalor's half-breathless bickering and Rosaliy debating whether escape would lead to a swift trip to the bottom of the mountain, they saw lights in the distance. Ocery and Dalor picked up the pace, and they were at a trading post protruding from the side of the mountain before Rosaliy could formulate any other plan. The handkerchief was veering off course, not heading directly for the trading post. Daniella was not there. Maybe Rosaliy could get Daniella a message—a few minutes of warning.

Heart pounding, Rosaliy stopped the handkerchief with a subtle stretch of her fingers. Dutifully, it jerked to a stop and flapped its way back to her waiting hands. Was her behavior too obvious? Too suspicious?

"She's been there," said Rosaliy, clenching the squirming cloth tightly so her hands would stop trembling.

"The tavern? Is she there now?" asked Ocery.

Rosaliy shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

"One way to find out," said Dalor, starting forward.

"If you march in and she's not there, she'll know you're coming," argued Rosaliy in a rush. The logic had worked for her in Kianne. They might believe it, too.

"You go in," demanded Ocery, literally prodding her forward.

"Like this?" exclaimed Rosaliy. She smelled like she had slept in sun-rotted garbage for three days. Plus, she was plastered in drying ooze now flaking off her skin like a disease.

"Good luck," chuckled Ocery.

"If you don't come right back with Daniella, we burn the place to the ground," Dalor told her.

She was half tempted to let them. A blazing fire would be quite the warning beacon.

"At least give me a minute to talk to a few people," she insisted. "If she's not there after all."

"I've been awake for two days straight," Ocery complained, yawning. "And I'm freezing out here. Just make it fast."

Rosaliy scurried for the door. Gemstone Trade and Tavern was set into a rock face, so there were no other exits. Even if she found someone who knew Daniella, how could she get her a message? Rosaliy's stomach churned as she pushed open the door. A jingle and the warm glow of a fire welcomed her to a mostly empty tavern. Two dirt-smudged men and a woman sat around a table, staring at another man standing and pounding his fist on the thick wood surface, in the middle of a rousing story. They were all as pale as if they spent all day buried in a cave, but Rosaliy knew from experience with her girls that Taragonians would stay that way no matter how much time they spent in the sun.

An empty store was on the other side. Daniella had been sitting right there behind that counter when Rosaliy found her in the seeing pool.

"I'll be right with you," called a female voice from the corner of the tavern.

She was an older woman pouring drinks and chatting with a burly man. Rosaliy walked over, trying to pretend she was not listening in.

"It's not like her to be late," said the leather-skinned woman.

"Last person to see her was that Baysellian who was in here," grunted the burly man.

The woman lowered her voice further. "If she's tangled up with Baysellians, who knows what kind of trouble she's in. You know how they are."

"Hey, my cousin is from Bayselle," the man objected. "And, actually, he proves your point. I'll check at the inn."

"Thanks," said the woman, smiling. "I'd feel better." She scooped up the drinks to deliver a round to the animated table.

The man moved for the door. Rosaliy wanted to follow, but she had no way to shake the Flifary right now, and she was still reeling from the possibility of Drake having been here. Was it possible he had reached Daniella first? Was this good news? Was she jumping to wild conclusions?

The woman slid back behind the counter of the bar and cleared her throat. Rosaliy had ignored a question.

"Hon, you look lost if ever a creature has been lost. Everything all right?" Taragonians had a warm, hearty accent, something like a verbal bear hug.

"I've had better days," Rosaliy admitted.

"What will you have?" the woman asked. "On me."

"I'm—" Rosaliy cleared her squeaky throat. "I was looking for someone. I hope you've seen her."

The woman reached for glass mugs under the counter anyway. "Hopefully she's a miner. That's the extent of my clientele up here."

"No, her name is Daniella."

The woman cocked her head. No look of surprise or understanding crossed her wrinkled face. "Daniella? Can't say the name sounds familiar, but I do see a lot of people come through. Can you describe her?"

"Tall, gold hair. Kianne complexion. Kind of..." Terrifying. "Intense."

"Huh, sounds a little like Opal, but she's gone missing," said the woman, now toying with a glass in her hands. "Who are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm Sorceress Rosaliy from Crystal Palace." She was trying to send a message, after all.

The glass dropped to the stone counter with a thud.

"Well, of all the—" the woman exclaimed. "I hardly expected to see you." She craned her head to eyeball the table full of chatty miners and lowered her voice. "Come with me."

Excited, she zipped out from behind the bar and headed to a door in the store area.

"Jess," called a patron. "I need more ale."

"No, you don't, Mik," she hollered back.

Jess shuffled Rosaliy into the back room and shut the door.

"Mik's going to start helping himself if I don't hurry." She hefted two sacks of flour across the room. "A messenger delivered this for me a few days back." Behind the sacks was wedged a box, about the size of a large book. On second glance, as the woman picked it up, it looked more like a hunk of polished wood than a box, as there was no lid. An envelope rested on top, inscribed clearly with the name "Jess of Gemstone Trade and Tavern."

"This thing arrived a few days back with my name on it," said Jess. "That's me—Jess."

Rosaliy had reasoned that part out.

Jess opened the delicate paper inside the envelope and held out the letter to Rosaliy.

Jess,

If Sorceress Rosaliy from Crystal Palace comes here, please deliver this box. Only she can open it. There is a reward for you inside as payment for safe storage.

If no one arrives for it in a week, and the world is still standing, have it delivered to Crystal Palace.

Queen Katyrinna of Crystal Palace

"I was sure it was all a prank," said Jess brightly, "but just in case, I hung onto it. I mean, I don't get letters from queens every day! Or ever, actually."

That note was not written by Queen Kat. The impostor had not even tried. Precise, sharp, bold—that was Daniella's unmistakable writing. Jess thrust the box at her, excited, but Rosaliy nearly jumped back. She did not want to touch that box. Unfortunately, she wanted the Flifary outside to enter or set the tavern on fire even less than she wanted to play Daniella's games. She took the slab of wood.

As soon as the polished wood touched her hands, lines melted into the sides, and suddenly the hunk of wood was a box with a removable lid. Warily, Rosaliy did just that.

"I'll be," exclaimed Jess.

Inside the box rested a piece of frosted glass, a little lump of cloth, a small pouch, and a sealed piece of folded paper bearing Rosaliy's name, all packed in soft velvet. Rosaliy unfolded the note.

R—

The glass will reveal a message when you touch it. The stone will transport you to Bayselle. I'm sure you wouldn't be so foolish as to use it until you listen to the message. The money is payment for Jess.

D—

That was Daniella, condescending as ever.

"Well, what is all that?" Jess marveled, reaching her hand toward the items in the box.

"Careful," Rosaliy warned hastily. "You'll find yourself lost in the middle of Bayselle if you touch this one." She pocketed the wrapped cloth.

Rosaliy could not think this fast. She needed time to make a plan, and there was no time. She handed the small pouch to Jess, who opened it and poured a pile of coins into her hand. A little cry of joy escaped from her lips. "Well, who would do all this?"

Rosaliy could not listen to the message from Daniella now. That travel stone was tempting, but considering she had led a pair of maniacal enemies to Daniella's doorstep, leaving now was irresponsible. She wrapped the velvet packing around the frosted glass and put that in her other pocket for now.

"Jess, would you do me a favor?" she asked. She should have made this plan before handing over the money, but Jess seemed trustworthy enough.

"What do you need, Rosaliy? A bath?" Jess was all sympathy. "I can get you a room at the inn up the street."

"That's not necessary," interrupted Rosaliy. She definitely needed the bath, but she didn't have the time.

"But this is so much," objected Jess, "and you really seem like you could use it more than me. Are you sure you don't need some food or a change of clothes from the store?"

"Yes," said Rosaliy, half her mind frozen, half on fire, desperate for a plan. "Something from the store. Some paper. And something noisy."