Chapter 13
Isolde My horse was ready at dawn as was my request, but as I was ready to mount Incendio, it dawned on me that I did not know my destination. I couldn’t just ride aimlessly for that would be foolish and a waste of time, and if I asked the servants, they would question my intent. Perhaps not openly, but news of my visit would spread and undoubtedly reach the wrong ears.
The gods graced me with good fortune again, for I saw Jonathan, the child who had aided me a week before, carrying buckets of water to fill the troughs for the horses.
“Jonathan. Do you remember me?” I asked sweetly. The child looked up at me and smiled.
“Yes, princess. I did as I was told, and I didn’t eat the apple.” He looked so proud of himself, the smile stretched wide across his face, his orange hair sparkling in the sun, and his freckles sprayed across his nose like fairy dust.
I reached into my saddle bag and produced one of many apples I had packed for Incendio. Tossing the apple to Jonathan, he caught it and looked at it longingly. “Now that particular apple you may have all to yourself.”
“Thank you, Princess Isolde.” The boy beamed, looking greedily at his fruit.
“I bet you are a smart boy.”
The boy blushed and nodded slightly.
“Tell me, do you know where the Taraks live?”
“Yes. In a cottage in the woods. It’s just beyond the city gates due east. The house smells of baked goods. Cora has made me many pies in the past.”
“What a lucky boy you are then.” I tossed him a second apple for his information. “Save this one for later.” Giving Incendio a swift kick, I rode out of the stables, past the courtyard, and through the city. It was still early, and the market was only just coming alive with shopkeepers setting up their goods. Their eyes would be focused on their work and still sleepy from the early hour. But out of safety for my intent, I drew my hood up, hiding my memorable white locks.
The cottage was unguarded. Once Lorcan was returned, the men of the court were instructed to leave. It had been over a week since his branding, and I knew I would find him in a dire state. It was clear he had no use for me anymore. His coldness in the prison showed this to me. But still, I had to tell him what I knew and offer hope for what would transpire. My father would not allow an assassin to be next in line to the throne, of that I was certain. Who he would have me marry next, I had not an inkling. I didn’t know of many eligible suitors. Our family line was fading. Just as our magic had.
I tethered Incendio to a low branch and looked around to make sure I was alone in the woods before I knocked on Lorcan’s door. After a moment, it opened ajar, and the frightened eye of Cora Tarak peered out. “Yes?” she questioned.
“May I come in, my lady? I fear I am rather exposed out here.”
Cora opened the door slightly to get a better look, but with my hood up and a shadow cast over my features, it was clear she did not recognize me. Looking around, careful to take in every tree, I turned back to her and removed my hood, just enough for her to catch a glimpse of the frost in my hair and the water in my eyes. The woman stumbled back in disbelief and brought a hand to her chest.
“Gods.” Was the only word she managed to omit.
“I am asking again, if I may be granted entry into your home.”
Cora nodded, drew the door wide open, and stepped aside so that I might enter. The door clicked shut behind us. The room was small. A wooden table was the central furnishing. Two rocking chairs rested before a fireplace that held a pot boiling over a small flame. There was a loft above and a small room in the back where I could make out the shape of a bed. It was so humble, but yet more inviting than any room in the castle.
Cora gestured to the chairs. “Would you care to sit?”
My eyes swept the room one more time but didn’t find any sign of what I was searching for. “Where is Lorcan?”
“He left, last night.”
“Left? How? Who took him? He was in no condition to travel! The surgeons all exist in the castle! Has he been sent across the Salted Sea to have a savage look at his wounds?”
Cora looked at me, struck dumb by my words. I tend to blather on when I’m nervous. Still, if I had to use my power to get answers, I would. Standing as straight and tall as I could, I stared her down.
“I am Princess Isolde, future Queen of Borvo. You shall speak quickly and plain.”
Cora twisted at her fingers. “He travels alone, your highness. He has gone to Lassair.”
“Lassair?” None of this made sense. “He cannot ride, nor walk. How is it that he has traveled to Lassair? There is nothing in Lassair but flame, ash, and rock. No one exists there but the whispers of the gods of fire.”
“Princess Isolde…he was fit enough to travel. Forgive me, Your Highness, but his reasons for going to Lassair are his own. He is allowed to venture there. The king has not restricted anyone journeying there.”
“Because no one would want to. The beautiful lands of Abhainn are turning to swamps, overrun by rivers and rainfall. Lassair is a blackened desert. What would make him leave the only land worth living on?”
“He did not tell me, Your Highness.”
“But you do know. Tell me, you say he could travel. How did he heal? What witchcraft did you perform? Perhaps you did try to poison my father after all.” I knew I was sprouting venom, but the words she had said made no sense.
“My princess, I have told you all that I know. He has gone to Lassair, it is true…but I swear to you this, Lorcan will return.”
****
I rode, allowing Incendio to choose the direction for me. I wanted to go to Lassair, but I couldn’t dwell in a land so far from any water. It would drain me and weaken me, I was of no use to anyone. If I returned to the castle, I had to continue to outwit Raelan. It dawned on me as I rode, that if I told my father he might think my words were just a trick to get out of my marriage. My mother would not take a stand with me against Savio, and it was clear she favored Raelan. He reminded her too much of Davious. Had that child lived, he would have been the child to inherit the throne. I don’t remember much of my brother, just that he was sweet and full of laughter. There wasn’t a drop of my father’s greed in him. It should have been Davious who reigned over Borvo, not Raelan.
Incendio brought me to the meadow and babbling brook where Lorcan and I had found our peace. It felt strange to venture here without him, but I took comfort in the water, feeling its energy surge through my body as it absorbed into my skin. It was as though Incendio knew I needed to restore the power I had managed to keep hidden from all others, even my parents.
The ancestors of Fontaine once were not mortal, but fae. Our ancestors could manipulate the elements, all but fire. That gift was given solely to the dragons. We shared a world with them, and in turn, the balance was set. But as the fae began to mate with mortals, our power decreased, until it faded away altogether. A prophecy was told that the marriage of purity would rekindle our magic again. So became the tradition of brothers bedding sisters and cousins kissing openly in Abhainn. It was repulsive to some, but those who disagreed simply did not partake.
It was believed that the House of Fontaine was not hurting anyone with their rituals, simply trying to resurrect what was lost to them. My powers began when I was small, but I did not understand them. To me, the act of playing with morning dew or holding a ball of water without spilling a drop seemed normal. Once, I asked my mother if she was a water dancer, too. Her eyes blazed with a hunger I had never seen before, and when she asked if I had done such a feat, I responded, “Only in my dreams.”
But it wasn’t just in my dreams. It was in my daily life. When I was sent to Abhainn, I heard the histories and understood that the power they so desperately sought, resided in me. Rather than proclaim my abilities to the kingdom, I kept it secret.
I saw how jealousy had led my father to conduct genocide on an entire species. I didn’t think for a moment he would spare my life. We prayed for the return of the gift, true. But I often felt if my father did not possess it, then he would allow no one to.
And if he did accept what I was, surely he would no longer see me as his child, but rather as a weapon to unleash upon his enemies.