Keish- November 30, 2003

November 30, 2003
Dear Arri,

I'm sorry your feet are so sore-- I have leather peasant boots that are quite sturdy. Jace and I decided that we must dress as commonly as possible so as not to draw suspicion. Brynn helped us get what we needed. There haven't been many real roads for a while now. We were just following forest trails-- now we cut across fields or follow the farm paths.

Tell Imato you'll adventure as much as you please. I have a feeling this really isn't over yet, so you may have the chance to get used to it. I am glad you've arrived safely.

It was very good of Uncle W. and Imato to include you when the doctor explained things. You had every right to be included, of course, it's just not something those two tend to remember or acknowledge.

A long-term committal? Would they allow you to bring in a healer? Your father must be seen by one. I know that Uncle W. and Imato are dismissive, but I keep having this feeling that it's terribly important. I've even dreamt about it.

Last night, after reading your letter, I dreamt of your father. He spoke to me-- told me that while the doctors would do no harm, a healer must be called for, preferably one with a background in magic similar to your mother's. That's what he told me. I fear his memory loss may not be strictly due to head trauma. I know Uncle W. especially will not like the idea that there's magic involved, but we can't ignore it, especially considering the circumstances.

Is Tulson still around? Because you should really probably ask him about the mental house. He should know more about it and may know about getting a healer involved. Jace says he's never heard of them working with a healer, but he's not sure if that's because they won't or simply because there are so few. He does say, though, that the doctor there is one that the king himself relies upon, so he must be a good physician. But your father didn't ask for a physician in my dream, and Jace points out that a physician is not a healer in the sense we need, no matter how good he is or who he's connected with.

I know Uncle W. doesn't want help paying for things, but you may want to suggest to him that because of your father's position, the king has every right to be involved and may be upset if he's left out of things. Jace says he's the kind of man who feels a responsibility to men like your father and would insist upon it-- and it's not like you're going to be able to keep all this a secret from the king.

One possibility has occurred to me. If Brynn brings Liop to you, she could help. She has the background in magic, certainly. Communicating with her last night, she insisted that she's not really a healer in the sense I mean, in the sense that your mother was, but she would be willing to do what she could. Actually, she said that if she could work with you to develop your skills, you could perhaps be the healer we need. Just something to think about. She of course can bring Liop to you, but it would be best if they were sent for, since people may ask difficult questions otherwise. We wouldn't want to try to explain to people who she was communicating with, let alone how. Gretel's mother would absolutely not stand for her doing it, but Father is doing better and she can tend to him. Brynn promised to speak with him today, so perhaps I will talk with her tonight before sending this off. (Jace laughs when I say I will talk to Brynn, as if I were going over for a visit or something.)

Speaking of laughter, Mendel's letter made me laugh! (Jace says it's good to hear me laugh again. Traveling has improved my mood and I've been able to break through some of the gloom.) Mendel must have been worried Imato or someone might read it. (Though Imato really should know better-- would he like you to read his mail? Honestly.) Though, can I ask why Imato doesn't think Mendel a worthy suitor? I mean, he's the prince's cousin-- I would have though Imato would like you to find someone in such a position to marry. (I'm not saying I think you should marry Mendel, I don't know him. I'm just surprised at Imato's reaction.)

I also find it really funny that people thought that you and Tulson had eloped! That's great! You've got to tell him- he'll love it! Hmm, maybe it will give him ideas… Just teasing. (Though that could be a good match too.) Sorry, I can't help it, it's all too funny. (See, I told you I'd broken through some of the gloom… I'm being mischievous.) I suppose it'll be interesting when I finally get back to the castle to hear what everyone thought. Of course, they must think that Jace and I have eloped. I wonder if they'll be disappointed.

If we ever get back. I mean, surely we will, but it seems like this is going to go on forever. We're getting close to the Midaeans, but what do we do once we get there? And where do we go next? There are so many unanswered questions-- it feels like it will take a lifetime to sort everything out. (Sorry, I've broken through some of the gloom, but not quite all of it. Sometimes my emotions are on a roller coaster.)

Perhaps Marigold is headed in the same direction we are. I don't know how fairies find their way to the cave. Maybe they don't; maybe fairies like Darius seek them out and bring them back. That cave is pretty far east, so I don't know that Marigold would be drifting that far. I feel like we're approaching a convergence of sorts, a center of power, but I don't know if it centers in a place or a group of people. I suppose, considering the prophecy about a convergence of power, that it could center on just one person, but that child wasn't born. Maybe it means our paths will all cross.

I don't know. I guess I'm rambling again. I'm good at that. I wish I had something more interesting to tell you, but nothing interesting has happened. Maybe something will happen today. I will put this away for now so that we can start out and write more later.

Something interesting did happen today. Actually, we're debating what it means… and if it's a good sign or not. I've told you we make our way telling fortunes-- well we came to a town of sorts today and were plying our "trade". Usually I just act dramatic and make some broad statement that would be true for anyone, but today I couldn't. The magic took over and I gave real fortunes-- real divination. I tried to stop it, causing me to hesitate with each new person, but I couldn't control it. I've been trying so hard not to use magic. I've not wanted to draw attention to us, though I don't think anyone from the palace would look here and I don't believe there are any Narls in this part of the country. Still, though, I've kept it to little things like preserving our food or making it stretch a little further. Little things.

I don't know what happened today. We caused a stir, though. We couldn't turn the people away, and everyone in the town wanted a fortune told. We declined the offers to stay the night, however, just in case. We put as much distance between us and the people as we could. It's quite late now, since we had to push hard, and I am writing by a magical light while Jace watches, looking worried. I cannot sleep, though, until I write more. Again, I can't seem to help the use of magic.

I had been doing so well, too. I know Gretel told you about the last days I was at the castle and how I wasn't always able to control it, but since leaving I had been doing well. Suddenly the power is growing quickly again. If I cannot control it we shall just have to hope that all will be well. This attitude does not comfort Jace, but I feel calm, much more so than I should, I'm sure, but I can't seem to help that either.

Don't worry, though. We are close to the mountains now. I can feel it. The caves are close.

Dec. 1st

I was finally able to sleep and I spoke with Brynn. This was a difference too, for it was not as draining as it has been up to this point. Anyway, we discussed so much, I don't know where to start. It seems so odd to finally have Father know everything.

First- the Narls. It seems they are a group bent on possessing magic-- generally by stealing it from others. Father says, and Brynn confirms, that the Brio family's magic is strong enough to be a very coveted prize. I think that may be part of what Uncle W. meant about them not realizing your importance. They wanted you to persuade him to part with his magic-- they didn't realize you have your own. Someone in the castle, one of King Menion's advisors or something, must be involved with them. Other than that, I don't know. Brynn admits that she spent some time trying to find out more about them, before she came to teach me, but has been unable to learn much. They are a very closed society.

About Brynn's prophecy, and a possible older prophecy, etc.-- Father puts it all together as a Brio child will bring together the Brio powers to conquer some evil that threatens the kingdoms. Clearly this evil seems to be the Narls, or at least associated with them. Bringing together the powers must mean a cooperative effort of sorts, for it doesn't seem that there's any indication that all of the powers will be centered in one child. I think the Narls misunderstand this part.

About the cave Uncle W. talked about in his letter, that my mother suggested- Father says that Mother thought that the lioness would protect us if something happened. I guess Mother said that it would be the best place for one of us to go if or when the trouble indicated in the omen started. (Okay, so just for clarification, since I'm not sure I'm keeping this straight-- there's the old prophecy of a Brio child, etc… the omen my mother discovered 10 years ago was a sign that it would soon come to pass and then Brynn's prophecy was that the cycle was closing, etc etc.) I wonder if the book Darius gave me is the key to all of this. (I still don't know what it is. No spell seems to work. I did have a vision though, the other night as I held it, of myself reading from it. I was in a cave and there were other people around me. Maybe I just have to wait until that time comes.)

Father is still very tired, so I told Brynn not to bother him about Marigold. He did mention, though, that Mother always liked having a fairy around, first Brynn, and then Pricille (both house fairies-- which Brynn confirms are those that choose to leave the ring for whatever reason but retain enough memory to be comfortable in our world). Brynn just sort of appeared at the castle just after my parents started courting (as you know, my mother had traveled to Arella to study with the old astrologist, mostly out of a sort of boredom, I think. A restlessness that I seem to have inherited.) Anyway, Brynn taught my mother, though Mother's powers were already rather developed. I'm rambling again, aren't I?

About my father's letter to Uncle W., which Uncle mentioned-- Father thought that perhaps the family member to be found was Pricille's child. (Distant cousins, remember). He never quite believed that the child was dead and thought perhaps that would solve the whole mystery. He admits that this was wishful thinking as he wanted the consequences to be at a distance from all of us. Obviously, the boy would not be a Brio child, but Father convinced himself that it could be. He and Uncle Winthrop disagree mainly because Father thinks the whole thing is important, just doesn't necessarily want me (or you or Imato or Liop) all that terribly involved. He seems to almost hope that it will all go away if he continues to ignore it. Uncle W. on the other hand, thinks the world is on it's own and that our family has given quite enough. (You'll have to ask him what exactly that means…. Though keep in mind, this is from Father's point of view, so it may not be exactly what Uncle W. thinks.) They disagree on the politics, so to speak. Neither of them really wants us involved and each in his own way has been avoiding dealing with any of it or telling any of us anything. Father at least realizes that this was foolish-- that we are involved whether we like it or not and that we should have been told more sooner. He says Uncle W. should be telling you everything, but I don't know if Uncle will agree. As much as they like each other, they don't seem to see eye to eye-- Father used a couple of interesting phrases…. I think camel-minded was one of them. (Just for the record, I've always found that to be an excellent phrase. I used to use it nearly every day. What would Imato say to that?!)

I think that's really about everything Father had to say. He is getting much stronger, and though he's very worried about me he knows I really couldn't have done anything differently.

Oh, Brynn did say that Gretel is suddenly nervous about how she's been caring for Liop! She's worried that she was presumptuous and took too many liberties making decisions that should have been yours or Imato's or something. She's all flustered about it. She told Brynn that I have to tell you she's very sorry. I think she's worried she crossed the line somehow. She's too nervous to write you herself.

I must close. We're not getting any snow, but it is getting cooler. It's still comfortable though.
Keep safe, but don't let that stop you from living.
Love always
　

Oh, by the way, tell Imato that he'd better write to Gretel. Brynn says she's not heard from him in many days and is getting anxious (probably part of the concern over her treatment of Liop). If he sends for Brynn and Liop and doesn't write to her she's liable to come bash his camel-minded head. (Yep, I said it again… I do like military slang.)

Jace's Letter Home- November 29, 2003

November 29, 2003
Dear Taty,

I hope you are still doing well. Keish has received a letter from Arri, and it seems Brynn and Liop will likely travel to Odsreq soon. Perhaps you can accompany them and continue on home, if you are ready to go home. I suppose Father will make the trip to Adya for the solstice, though, so you could probably just remain until then and return home with him.

I'm sure Brynn has told you about the cave we found several days ago and the man we met. In some ways it was unnerving-- he almost seemed to know more about where we are going than we do.

Keish often spends the evenings trying to discover the enchantment on the book he gave her. It must be very strong indeed, for she hasn't been able to figure it out yet. It seems strange to discover something she can't do magically. Everything else is so effortless for her. She has been controlling it a little better lately, though I still laugh at her for lapses sometimes. I know I said before that I would only find it funny under different circumstances, but Keish has been much more herself lately and I find myself much more cheerful as a result. Traveling seems to agree with us both.

Really, I'm generally happy as long as she is. When she becomes somber and withdrawn it hurts. Not that she's upset with me at all, I just hate to see her sad, especially since she is normally of such a cheerful disposition. (I can say these things since you can't write back to tease me.)

I will post this in a village tomorrow. Hermes is with us, waiting for Keish to respond to Arri’s letter and it makes me wish there were more such birds. Then I could write to you more, and to Mother and Father. I'm sure they are anxious, but I dare not write them since Keish cannot enchant those letters as easily as ones to you, having nothing of them to use. I risked it once so that they would know I am safe, but I feel I should not do so again.

Take care of yourself, especially if you decide to travel.
Love,



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Arri- November 26, 2003

November 26, 2003
Dear Keish,

Do your feet hurt? My feet are so sore they feel numb, and I think you’ve been doing a lot more walking than I have. I’ve never been as far south as you are traveling. Father has always been stationed in the northwest or the central part of Elcaro. Is it warmer where you are? Are you traveling on roads, or criss-crossing through the countryside? Uncle Winthrop says I should have new shoes—work shoes like servants wear. The day shoes I wore when I left Odsreq are meant for ladies who don’t have adventures. Are your shoes good? Perhaps I could send you some new ones…

Kelly is a good horse for riding, but I’m not used to riding all day, so I kept getting off and walking because my back ached, and then I would ride again because my feet hurt. Imato and the others are invincible. They stayed on their horses and never even looked tired. I guess I’ll get used to adventures in time. Imato says he hopes I won’t.

We arrived back in Odsreq two days ago. We spent a couple of hours moving Imato’s things into Liop’s room and then preparing Imato’s room for Father. Uncle W. installed the security bars on all the windows (because it would look strange if we only put one on Father’s bedroom window). Then Uncle Winthrop sent a message for the doctor to come look at Father the next morning. Then we all went to bed without dinner, while Cook scolded us for being too tired to eat.

It was nearly noon before Doctor Stoddart wandered up the long cobblestone road to the cottage with his black bag in one hand and a nasty looking pipe in the other. He wore a black trench coat and stylish top hat with a white feather. Uncle W. and Imato both pounced on me before I could even get to the door to greet him. They insisted I take a walk in the garden and wait until after the examination.

“You make sure he leaves that dirty pipe outside,” I warned.

It was more than I could resist, so out I went, but I circled around the cottage and sat on the front steps under Father’s window in hopes of hearing something. I would have climbed out onto the roof, but I knew Uncle W. would catch me. They were awfully quiet up there for a long time, and I was afraid Uncle W. and Imato would try to sneak the doctor back outside without my noticing, but they didn’t. After an hour the door opened and Imato poked his head out.

“You can stop trying to eavesdrop and come back in,” he said.

I followed Imato into the den where I found Uncle W. and Doctor Stoddard sitting in the den chairs. Two more chairs had been brought in from the kitchen for Imato and I. We sat down.

“I haven’t touched my pipe,” Dr. Stoddard began (we had that discussion when he came to treat Aegolius so many months ago).

“Yes, thank you,” said Uncle W.

“What is your prognosis?” asked Uncle W. I opened my eyes wider than before. Hadn’t the doctor already told them? Hadn’t they already discussed what was fit for my ears?
No, they hadn’t. It was evident on their anxious faces, and the awkward, unhappy look of the doctor.

“It’s really a very complicated case,” he began, “much too complicated for a country doctor.” He reached for his pipe, shook himself, and folded his hands in his lap.

“Trauma to the head, as you suspected,” he said finally, “the other damaged has healed over. I know it looks bad, but there isn’t anything that anyone can do about the scars.”

“And his memory?” asked Imato.

The doctor shook his head slowly, “Not that there isn’t hope,” he continued, “I have a friend, an expert in these cases, a mental physician in Rousha. He is the master physician of the mental home there. I suggest you take Sir Etautca to him, but you need to understand that this is a long-term commitment.”

“Long term?” asked Uncle W.

“Yes, I’m suggesting Doctor Rascada for two reasons: first, he knows more about head trauma and memory loss than anyone else in Elcaro; second, his facility will provide your father with a safe comfortable home for as long as he is there.”

“A mental house,” Imato murmured, dropping his head on his chest.

“I’m sorry,” said Doctor Stoddard.

“Do they have a healer there?” I asked.

“I don’t know—healers are rare, Arri,” he told me, “but I’m sure if you contact King Trunsle, he will be more than willing to put you in touch with one. Sir Etautca was, after all, the captain of his army, and one of the finest Elcaro has seen in a long time.”

“Thank you,” said Uncle Winthrop, rising. He escorted the doctor to the door before I could ask any more questions. As soon as he was beyond the gate, I turn to Uncle W.

“We will send for a healer, won’t we?” I asked.

“I won’t discuss anything with you right now, Arri,” Uncle W. responded, “This treatment will be very expensive… I need some time to think about how I will pay for it.”

“The King will help,” began Imato.

“You can sell my jewelry,” I volunteered.

“Thank you, Arri, and the King will do no such thing. Not while I’m the head of this household. We’re not beggars. We can take care of ourselves.”

“This is Sir Quin Etautca, Captain of the Royal Army! It’s not charity we’re asking for.”

“It is as far as I’m concerned. Now I asked you to let me think.” Uncle W. shut the door of the den in our faces.

“Stubborn, proud, narrow-minded camel!” Imato yelled at the door, “Do you really think the water in your humps will last forever? I’ll write to King Trunsle myself if you won’t.”
Uncle Winthrop didn’t answer.

Imato stormed through the house for a while, muttering under his breath. Then he decided to walk into town and check the post office, and I decided to walk over to the Westridge’s manor and visit Lady Clara. I walked slowly, thinking about the advice you gave me about making sure that Father is tended to by a healer. Dr. Stoddard is right; there aren’t many healers in Elcaro, maybe a dozen at the most. Mother had an apprentice named Miss Perlita Trenholme when I was young. She stayed with us until Liop was two months old, teaching me how to care for him. I don’t know what I would have done without her, especially those first few weeks after Mother died. I wish I knew where Miss Perlita is now.

I met Lady Clara halfway there. She had heard that we were back and was on her way to see me. We found an old log to sit on and talked until the sun started to set and the air grew uncomfortably chilly. I told her everything that had happened. Clara is a great listener. She advised me to focus on getting Father to the mental home in Rousha. She said that in a big city like that—and especially with the palace so close by—I should be able to find a healer to help me. She said I might even be able to go behind Uncle W.’s back, but I don’t like that idea at all.

When I returned home that evening, I found a letter waiting for me from Mendel. Imato seemed surprised that Mendel and Sean weren’t back yet, and asked about it. I said I never knew what Mendel was thinking. I took the letter upstairs to my bedroom to read it and I’m glad I did!

“My dearest, darling-est, flowery-est Arri,” the letter began in loopy, exaggerated handwriting.

I felt my face begin to burn, and I almost tossed the letter away without reading anymore. But I really wanted to hear something about Marigold. The letter continued in the most ridiculous language to describe Mendel’s decision that he would travel the world in search of some seeds from the “Rare White Marigold” to plant for me in my garden. Although many miles of searching had produced no sign of the plant, he felt certain that if he continued traveling in a southeasterly direction, using Muriel’s Constellation for guidance, that he would ultimately find the “Lost Star”. Throughout the journey, he hoped to “thrill” me many times with his daring and courage.

I hid the letter under my mattress. Surely Mendel could think of some better way of disguising his letter than with sappy romantic prose! I knew the minute I walked downstairs Imato would ask me about the letter, and if I didn’t have a ready explanation, I would turn bright red trying to think of one and then Imato would suspect all sorts of things that weren’t true. But what could I say? I feel sorry for Mendel’s future girlfriend, if that’s how he chooses to address her. In the end I was spared the trouble by Imato inviting the other knights to dinner before sending them back to their original duties. It wasn’t until the next morning that he made reference to the letter.

“I hope you don’t take Mendel seriously,” he said to me as I ran my hands over Glory, feeling the foal move beneath her ribs.

“No more than I have to,” I responded.

“Then you’re not interested in him?” asked Imato.

“As what?” I asked.

“As a beau,” Imato can be very straightforward about some things.

“No,” I said, and Imato smiled with relief. He never did ask me what was in the letter.

After breakfast I paid a call on Treany to apologize for abandoning her and to find out the local gossip. Fortunately, Treany is a very forgiving person. She told me that the village was full of rumors that I had eloped with Prince Tulson. She was disappointed to learn that it wasn’t true.
There isn’t much left to say about what is happening here, but there’s a lot to say about what isn’t happening. Uncle W. and Imato aren’t speaking to each other. Father can’t be let out of his room. And Nozama is too exhausted from the adventure to torment Kestrel. In fact, I think Kestrel is the only one of us who feels like her problems are over, and she’s very smug about it.
I don’t know what to do Keish. I want to help Father and I want to find Marigold. Do you think Marigold may go to the society of fairies that you found in the Solotun Mountains? How do the fairies find that place? Do they just wander in that direction? Mendel said that Marigold seems to be traveling southeast. I found the Solotuns in one of Uncle W.’s atlases. They are southeast (but mostly south) of where we were when Mendel left us. If Marigold is going to the Solotuns, then maybe you should delay your journey to the Midaeans. Or maybe she is going to the Midaeans too. Or maybe she is still looking for me, and making a roundabout journey to Odsreq. Or maybe she is just wandering aimlessly or has been kidnapped, or something else. Or maybe I’m just wasting my ink on worries.

Darius must be a very kind person to be helping the other fairies. It sounds like he has the same gift of divination that you do. Are there very many of them? Did you see how they are living? I always thought of fairies as very rare, but maybe they aren’t.

Imato just walked in. He said to ask you if it would be appropriate to ask Brynn to escort Liop back to Odsreq. He would rather ask Gretel, but he knows that her parents would never allow it. The only other choice is for Imato to go and get him, but that would mean leaving father in the hands of that “camel-minded uncle of ours”.

Imato just told me to scratch that last sentence out—it’s military slang, and not appropriate for young ladies. I’m glad he cant see the third page of this letter!

I’m running out of space to write again. Sometimes I wish Hermes were a raven or some other large bird that can carry more weight. I feel bad for him having to fly so far all the time, but I know the magic makes his journeys fast and safer than they would be otherwise.

I’m glad that you are meeting good people and finding help along your way. Someday when all our adventures our over, we should go back and visit them. I would like to meet them.

The first snow of winter is starting to fall. It is warm and will melt soon. I hope you aren’t seeing any of it.

May your travels be warm and dry.
Love,

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Keish- November 19, 2003

November 19, 2003
Dear Arri,

Ah, why didn't I see that earlier?? Gretel's flowers do always last longer than they should. I guess I've been too distracted lately to realize. It makes a lot of sense, though. I've always thought Imato scorned my magic, but perhaps it's just because he feels like his is useless. Not necessarily an issue of jealousy, but maybe just that he doesn't really know what to do with me.
Uncle Winthrop will have to come to terms with magic, though, and soon. I certainly can't not use it and Liop is so used to it that no one will be able to stop him from doing it. Also, something tells me your magic won't stand dormant much longer. He'll have to get used to it, whether he likes it or not. (And I know he won't)

He is also going to have to accept letting healers examine your father. I know you don't feel like you can tell him what to do, and I'm not suggesting you be disrespectful, but you will have to be strong and insist upon it. Even if a physician can help, we cannot afford to limit the help we seek. Even Imato should understand that. Remind Imato of your mother-- that should help get him on your side.

Now I'm being arrogant again. I'm sorry, I don't mean to give orders. I just hate being so far away while you have to deal with so much.

I talked to Brynn about whether or not Liop could sense Marigold. He said he could tell something had happened and he will keep thinking about it. She's going to see if he can come up with anything looking at maps. Have you asked Imato about it? I know it probably doesn't seem like a good time to ask him something like that, but it may be important to get as much as we can from all four of us. It may help Mendel find her.

Have you heard from Mendel? It would be difficult for him to send you word, I guess, but I hope he finds a way. He seems fairly resourceful that way.

We've been traveling further east than I realized. The Solotuns are an offshoot of a larger range. We reached them the day after I sent your letter. It was an interesting experience, for we found a whole society there, living in a small system of caves. We were outsiders, so they wouldn't speak to us, but soon one of there members came out and was willing to talk to us.

His name is Darius, and we learned from him that the people living in these mountains are Fairies. They have left the rings and yet have not completely regained their memory. They have varying degrees of knowledge as to who they are, but they can't return home since they don't remember where that is. The few that do remember don't remember enough else to be comfortable returning. It's a sad life they lead, cut off from the world. The surrounding towns don’t seem to know anything about these poor people living here.

"We make do the best we can," Darius told us, "but many are afraid of being discovered. They are afraid of the other Fairies, and so will not go near a ring, and they are afraid of your people."

"Why aren't you afraid of us?" I asked curiously.

"I remember more than most. There is actually very little I don't remember. I have no reason to fear you," he said matter-of-factly.

"Then why don't you go home?" Jace asked.

Darius smiled sadly. "Because I do not like what I remember." He wouldn't say anything more.

"What can be done to help?" I asked softly, my heart going out to these people-- understanding all too well how isolated they must feel.

Darius shrugged. "I don't know that they would let you help them. Many want their memories restored. But I sense that you have bigger things to deal with now." He looked straight into my soul, communicating the last sentence mind to mind, without speaking aloud. "You are like us," his voice continued in my mind, "but you have a task. You must turn west and go to the area of the Midaean Mountains near the border. There you will find what you seek."

I started to ask him how he knew, and what I would find since I'm not sure myself what I'm seeking, but he would not let me. "Rest here tonight," he said aloud, indicating a glade nearby. "I will bring you breakfast and see you off in the morning." He disappeared back into the cave.

I wanted to follow him, but controlled my impetuosity, respecting their privacy. Jace and I settled in for the night, discussing the potential risks of crossing the farmlands to get to the place Darius told me about. We don't know if anyone from the palace is searching for us. Brynn says that Gretel and Taty are telling people Jace was taking me to meet their mother, who never makes the journey to our castle with them. I don't know if anyone will believe that, or even if anyone cares.

The next morning, Darius met us as promised, bringing food and a small book. "Take this," he said. "It will help you when you get there."

The pages of the book seem blank, but he wouldn't say anymore, so I have to hope that the enchantment will make itself known as we get closer to the Midaean Mountains.

Jace and I bid Darius farewell, both determined that we must return to help them if we can.

Jace and I are trying to cover more ground now that we are in the open. We avoid the larger towns, for fear that someone will recognize us or be waiting for us.

Oh, before I send this off, I forgot to mention, Father has had a bit of a relapse, nothing too serious, but Brynn thinks it unwise to question him right now. I'm almost afraid to find out what he knows, as strange as that seems.

I'm sorry this is so short… Since we are traveling as much as possible it is hard to find time to write more.

Keep safe
Love always

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Jace's Letters Home- November 13-15, 2003

November 13, 2003
Dear Taty,

I'm sorry I can't write you more often. I'm sure Brynn is keeping you informed, though. Not that there's much to tell. Thus far we've done little but tell fortunes in a few villages. With a little dramatic flair, I manage to line up several people for Keish to read their palms.

We charge as little as possible, for many of these people have next to nothing. The first day we felt ashamed when we realized how little people have. We're used to the beggars and the poor in Adya, of course, from spending time in the city, but somehow we thought that people who worked the land and such would have more. We were wrong.

There are, naturally, those who are better off. Keish was indignant at the realization we had in one village that the couple of well off families were so because they were cheating the poor. Keish charged them more and then gave the money to some poor children.

Of course, even the well-off seem to have little compared to our lives. We thought we were prepared for that knowledge, but we are reminded daily how easy our lives have been.
Keish has been trying very hard to control her magic since we do not know if it can be used to trace us. She sometimes lapses however, and uses it without realizing it. For example, when she drops something she simply holds her hand over it and it returns. She doesn't often even notice what she's done. Under different circumstances, I'd find it quite funny.

I hope you're doing well. I'm sure Gretel and Brynn and grateful for your help. Keish says to thank you for looking after her father.

Keep safe and tell Liop I miss him, as I do you.
Love,


November 15, 2003
Dear Mother and Father,

I am sorry if I've caused you concern, but I hope you will understand how important it was for me to accompany Lakeisha. Please forgive me for running off without sending you word.
We spend our days traveling and occasionally tell fortunes in the villages we come to. I cannot say much about our direction of travel for fear that this letter may fall into the wrong hands.

There may still be some danger to us, but we are safe for now. Of course you know that if anything were to happen I will defend Lakeisha with my life. I would not have you worry, though, We do not believe it will come to that.

I love you both.


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Arri- November 16, 2003

November 16, 2004
Dear Keish,

You shouldn’t judge yourself so harshly, Keish. You’ve given me tons of good advice. And you’ve been under so much stress, what with having to hide so much knowledge from people and keep up a good appearance for the people in the palace. People expect so much of you, that I wonder sometimes how you manage it all so well. No one ever expects much of me except that I mind my manners. I’m glad you have Jace to help you now. You need him.

Uncle Winthrop showed up just a couple of hours after I sent Hermes off with my last letter. It was a stormy gray evening, full of dry lightning and scattered raindrops that could hardly quench the thirsty ground.

I was sitting by the fireplace and playing with Kestrel who is looking less like a kitten and more like a young cat everyday. When Uncle W. walked in looking dirty and wind-blown I jumped up to meet him.

“Are you all right? Did you find Father? Where is he? I want to see him!” My mouth wouldn’t move fast enough for all my questions.

“Calm down, Arri, and run and fetch your brother!”

“Did you find Father?” I demanded.

“Your father is safe, but I won’t say another word about it till you fetch Imato.”

I could see that he meant it so I darted out into the streets to find Imato. There weren’t many places to look. I found him in the first place I chose, the blacksmith shop where he was talking to the smith while he fitted a new shoe to Spriggs. Imato has always been fascinated by blacksmithing. He never leaves a horse and comes back later, but hangs around to talk and watch the work. The blacksmith in Rousha used to let him try using the tools himself. Anyway, I raced right up to him and made such a fuss that he thought there was an emergency and came running back to the inn with me.

Journey Inn isn’t fancy enough to have sitting rooms or a den, so we all went into Imato’s room to talk.

“Where’s Father?” demanded Imato.

Uncle W. frowned at him.

“I’ll tell you everything, but only in the order I want to tell it.”

Imato folded his arms and tilted his chin up, the way he does when someone insults him. It wasn’t a good beginning.

“First things first, your father’s memory is gone. No interruptions, Arri!” (I shut my mouth. This was a much grimmer and more stoic Uncle W. than I was used to.)

“I’m pretty sure it happened during the battle that we thought killed him. I can’t sense any magical connections. He has a long scar down the side of his head where the hair won’t grow back. His nose is broken and badly healed, and there are burn scars on his face and arms. I think trauma to the head will account for the memory loss.”

I sat back on the bed, my eyes wide, and my hands trembling.

“Now, I’ve been keeping a sack over his head. He’s not rational and sudden movement and bright colors make him violent. The sack keeps him quiet. I don’t think I would have been able to convince the Narls to keep him alive if I hadn’t found a way to restrain him. Now I brought him back with me and gave him to the jailer for safe keeping…”

“You can’t jail Sir Quin!” Imato interrupted indignantly.

“Would you rather tie him up! Or drug him? The Journeys are good people, but they draw the line at letting dangerous mad men run loose in their inn. And he is dangerous, Arri! He has no memory, and his judgment is completely gone. I’ve spoken with the jailer. He has a fine mattress to sleep on and will be served the best food from Mrs. Journey’s kitchen.”

“It’s still not right…”

“I will not be interrupted, Imato,” but Uncle Winthrop was starting to sound tired. “This is my plan: We will take him back to Odsreq with us. I have a friend who is a physician. He won’t be able to treat Sir Quin, but he will be able to recommend someone who can. We will spare no expense. Your father will have the best treatment available. I wish I could promise you more than that.”

Outside we could hear a dog baying. Inside, we could hear Kestrel pawing at the door. Uncle Winthrop let her in and set her in my lap where she purred at batted at my braids, but none of us said anything. Imato looked frustrated. Uncle W. looked depressed. I felt like my father was found and lost at the same time, and I didn’t know whether to rejoice or mourn.

“What about healers?” I asked finally, “He can see the best healers too.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” said Uncle W. dismissively. Imato humphed.

“In the mean time,” Uncle W. continued, “I will take you to see him.”

The main road that runs through Onoff is not paved, but there are wooden sidewalks along either side. Uncle W. moved quickly with his head down. Imato walked at his side with his arms folded and his mouth set in a firm line that betrayed no emotion. I followed, trying not to run in my effort to match their long strides, trying not to let my heart beat too swiftly, trying not think of anything specific. The whole city was gray and black. Uncertain what the storm would bring, most people were inside, and only bits of yellow lamplight broke through the closed storm shutters. It was cold and the wind blew in a tired sort of way with sudden gusts punctuating the stillness like a man gasping for air. I didn’t like being out in it.

The jailhouse is a small, square, stone building at the edge of town. It is completely bare and uninteresting on the outside, without even grass or a flowerbed. On the inside it is much the same. The jailer let us in with polite friendly movements, and then discreetly left us alone for our visit.

At first I thought the one jail cell was empty, but then a movement of the quilts in the far corner corrected my impression.

“Father?” I asked, coming close to the bars and putting my hands on them. I fully expected to hear my name. Somehow, without meaning to, I had convinced myself that all would be well the moment he heard my voice.

From the blankets a gray, frizzy head emerged. I jumped back. It was not Father at all—it couldn’t be; his hair was dark brown and straight. This man was dirty and haggard with only traces of that once fine hair. No clean-shaven face, but a long brindled beard of uncertain color. The long straight nose that was my inheritance had a permanent bump, and his scars were just as Uncle W. described them.

“Turn away, Arri,” said Imato in a rough voice, “we mustn’t see him like this.”

But I didn’t turn, and my hands closed tightly around the bars of his cell.

“I’m sorry, Arri,” said Uncle W., “I’m sorry.” Thunder sounded in the distance, and the dry crackle of lightning across the sky.

The next day was filled with plans and preparations for the return to Odsreq. Uncle W. returned Treythan’s horse, laden down with a number of useful gifts of gratitude. As he did this he explained to me that Treythan is of the Rausan Order and will not deal in money, nor will he accept payment for lodging. But he will accept useful gifts.

The loss of the gelding meant that it was necessary to obtain another mount. Imato’s party had brought two extra horses for Uncle W. and I, but they hadn’t know about father, so Imato and Prince Tulson immediately set out in search of another horse. But Onoff is small, and all they could find was a sturdy looking brown mule named Buster.

I’ve never ridden a mule, so I immediately offered to ride him, but Imato refused. He said it would look very demeaning for him to let his sister ride the humblest animal in the party. Instead he gave me a pretty palomino mare named Kelly. She isn’t as fine as Glory or Prince Tulson’s stallion, but she’s well mannered and can hold her own with the rest of the party horses. Imato said that he would ride Buster himself, but Prince Tulson quickly vetoed this as inappropriate. Finally the matter was settled when Squire Leonard Thorn offered to ride him, being the youngest and lowest ranking member of the party (excluding Uncle W., the Westridges who were off somewhere and didn’t hear the argument, and myself).

In the afternoon Imato settled all of our debts (since Uncle W. lost all his traveling money when he was kidnapped) and then he and Uncle W. got into an argument over whether or not Uncle W. would pay him back when we got home. I didn’t stick around to hear the outcome, but what I did hear made me rather dread the return trip. Both Imato and Uncle W. seem to think they’re in charge.

We left in the first light of morning, going slowly for Father with his head covered and Glory whose pregnancy is starting to show. Mendel and Sean were in high spirits, racing their horses and charging off into the brush for an hour or more, only to return with ridiculous reports for Imato. Sometimes they pretended to be spies and other times scouts, either way they kept Imato in a foul temper.

“Couldn’t you just leave him alone?” I asked toward lunchtime after watching them return from yet another excursion.

“I would,” Mendel said brightly, “if he wouldn’t act so owlish. Doesn’t he realize we’re returning home in triumph? Not only did we find you and Lord Brio, but we also have Sir Etautca, Captain of the king’s army. The squire should be exultant!”

“Imato isn’t owlish,” I defended, “and Marigold is still missing and someone is trying to kill Keish…”

Mendel leaned in toward me, “Why do you think Sean and I keep taking off? We have to figure out where she was when she stepped out of the fairy circle. It must have been somewhere in this area so she could be near you. Besides, this party moves like a snail.”

“Imato is trying to keep us all safe,” I said.

“He’s trying to be his father, but I don’t remember ever hearing that Sir Quin was stoic.”

I humphed and moved my horse away. Mendel laughed and took off into the brush. Infuriated, I concentrated on working a tangle out of Kelly’s mane as I rode, but eventually my eyes strayed to Imato and I found Mendel’s words echoing in my ears.

Imato sat stiffly upright on Spriggs’s dapple-gray back. His entire face was stiff and concentrated. When someone spoke to him, he hardly turned in their direction, but listened with one ear and one eye, while the others focused firmly on his surroundings. Imato’s face is a well-organized combination of Mother and Father’s features. He has Mother’s small, fine nose and Father’s sturdy, cleft chin. His eyebrows are thick, arched, and expressive, his cheekbones high and well defined. Some men look chiseled and stony all the time. Imato only looks like this when he’s concentrating. Most of the time his face is soft and expressive, especially when he laughs. Lately he looks strained and tired, but I would not use the word owlish. Mendel is exaggerating.
That evening Mendel apologized to Imato. Then he suggested that he and Sean take a different route back to Odsreq. Imato was so haughty in his acceptance of the apology that he never asked why Mendel wanted to take a different path.

The next morning as we were setting off, Mendel pulled his tall gray stallion up to Kelly. He leaned over and whispered, “I’ve found traces of fairy magic; I’ll send you word as often as I can.” Then he pulled away before I could respond. Most of the company expressed relief at their disappearance, but I could only feel concern, torn between my desire to help Father and my fears for Marigold.

A couple days ago we decided to take the afternoon off, to rest Father and Glory. Uncle W., Prince Tulson, and Imato took off into the brush to hunt rabbits for stew, and I was left with Leonard and the soldiers. Leonard sat next to me and made small talk as if we were acquaintances meeting at a party after a long time. I never did know Leonard very well, and it’s been a couple of years since I last saw him, so maybe the awkward politeness makes sense. He’s taller than I remember and more muscular, but he still has the same pale green eyes and straw yellow hair that won’t quite lie flat. Neither of us mentioned my quest or our reason for traveling together. Leonard has always been a little shy, and today I felt shy too. I don’t know why.

Eventually I decided to wander along the edges of the shallow gully where we camped. I picked my way slowly without any real direction, without wandering very far from the campfire. When I got to the northern side of the gully I heard loud voices. Uncle W. and Imato were arguing. I would have turned right around and gone back to the fire, but I heard my name, and that made the conversation impossible to ignore.

“You can’t just lock Arri up in her bedroom for the rest of her life!” Imato was almost shouting,
“She won’t stand for it and neither will I.”

“Not using magic is not confining. Do you feel confined without magic?”

“What I have is hardly worth using and you know it. My best spell will make Gretel’s bouquets live a week or two longer before withering in the vase. Arri is different, and even you have been known to call dragons to your aid.”

“Only when death is preferable to my problem. Desert dragons have no qualms about eating their benefactors. I saw no other choice.”

“Arri will make the same argument. She’s too much like her mother. She has magic and she will
use it; she must use it.”

“Lady Arri,” I jumped and turned around. Prince Tulson smiled at me.

“I just wondered if you’d like to start the water boiling while I skin my rabbit,” he said, holding the poor thing up by the ears. I shuddered and looked away.

“It isn’t a dragon, my Lady,” he grinned. Why did he say that? It doesn’t really matter; I turned and followed him back to the campfire.

When we get back to Odsreq, I’m going to try to find the Solotun Mountains. With Imato, Uncle W., and the prince helping me, I’m sure we can figure out where you are, especially if you send me the names of the villages you have passed through. Then we can chart your course. I wish I could give you some help, but I’m not sure what you need.
　
I have to end now. It’s dark and I’m terribly tired. I can’t wait to get back to Odsreq. I will send for Liop at once, I miss him so.

May your path be warm and easy, and may winter be slow in coming.
Love,



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Keish- November 13, 2003

November 13, 2004
Dear Arri,

I've been so anxious to receive your letter. I wanted so badly to apologize-- my last letter was so cold, and I haven't written to you myself in my own hand for far too long.

Tell Imato and the others that I am glad they arrived safely. I didn't realize how uneasy I was about their quest to find you until I read that they had arrived. I'm not even sure why I was uneasy, I just was. It isn't something I can put my finger on. I think part of me was trying to follow them, track them in my mind and guard their steps. Knowing that they are there takes a burden from my mind.

I'm still not sure where we're going. I wish I could answer all of your questions-- that I could somehow conjure up that arrogance of our childhood when I thought I could answer anything you asked, but those days are gone. I feel so lost inside myself, like I'm not in control. You mentioned that Imato says to use my head before my power, but I don't always seem to have a choice. I don't really know how to explain it. I know I'm worrying you and others, but I can't seem to help anything I do. I know Jace is worried, though he's trying hard to hide that from me.
We continue passing through villages, telling fortunes and such. I try not to use anything but the slightest magic. I wish I had your healing power, though. Even without fully developing it, it would mean much to some of the people we've met.

Jace and I were talking the other day about what we wanted when this was all over. Although neither of us expressed it fully, I don't think either of us wants to remain in either castle. We both love the feeling of being free of those pressures and making our own way in the world. Jace started to say more, but he suddenly became shy. For the first time, I couldn't read him. I guess it sounds trivial, but I want to know what he was thinking right then and what enabled him to shut me out so completely. With all that's going on, that's probably terribly selfish of me, but for some reason it feels so important. Not important like finding the cave, or figuring out how to help your father, just important in knowing Jace. Maybe when this is all over… if it ever ends. Sometimes I feel like we're going to be stuck going around in circles in the semi-nightmare forever.

I'm glad Imato is letting you be out on your own. It's good for you to have time to yourself to think.

Mendel, Mendel, Mendel. I knew there was something he was hiding. It's bothered me since you first mentioned him! I'm glad he's finally confided in you. Does he know anything about why Marigold was trapped? I'm not sure why, but I feel like it could be important.

It's really amazing that he found her at all. And that she recognized you! She must have been in communication with your mother until she died, or nearly until then. Interesting that she didn't mention your brothers, though. Maybe she did, and Mendel just didn't mention it.

His story does explain a lot. I wonder how you knew Marigold had left… though I suppose I knew as well in my own way. I knew there was a shift of power in this world, but I didn't know what it was until reading your letter. Perhaps all of us are sensitive to it in different ways. You should ask Imato if he has felt anything. I'll ask Brynn to talk to Liop as well. If we have a connection of some sort with her, it could help us find her. I agree with Mendel, though, that she may be in terrible trouble. She left this world as a child, and though she's had contact with it, she's not had to live in it as an adult. Even simple things that we take for granted every day could pose a problem and possibly even a danger for her.

The country is beautiful. I want to come back to this grove where we are resting sometime when all this is over. I wish we could enjoy it, but when we take a moment and allow ourselves to, we ultimately feel guilty. How dare we be enjoying this time to talk and explore without being under the conventions of palace life, when we should be planning and searching and thinking and… I don't know. Doing something to help solve this whole mess. And yet, what can we do? After traveling all day, being led only by my instinct, what else is there? We can't make definite plans for when we get to wherever it is we're going. We don't even know where we'll end up! Is it so terrible for us to enjoy talking and getting to know each other better? To enjoy musing together about how our lives would be different if we'd grown up outside of the palaces-- if that hadn't been all we knew for so long? We have lived such similar, closed lives. And now that they are opening so quickly, is it wrong to take some pleasure in it?

I'm rambling, I know. What else did you say in your letter?

Oh yes, about Liop and the map. I don't dare. In fact, I've instructed Gretel and Brynn not to even let him know that I'm searching for a cave. I feel we must guard him from this knowledge, at least for now. I would hate for him to become a target. And, honestly, I would hate for anything to trigger in him the kind of power and changes that are happening to me. He is so young, too young to feel taken over by something like this. Brynn agrees with me on this. I wonder if she knows more about Liop and the old woman and the mysterious water from the cave than any of the rest of us. I've never thought to ask her. And it doesn't seem like there's much reason to ask her right now. While I can communicate with her, it is draining and if I am to travel in the morning, I must not overdo it. Something tells me she wouldn't really answer me anyhow. That she would just tell me to be patient, to wait and that everything would resolve itself in time. Whatever changes are taking place, I am still NOT a patient person.

I wish I could tell you when we'll reach the cave… I assume that's where we're going, but I guess I'm not really sure. I do feel the pull growing stronger, which means we're getting closer. And we are approaching some mountains. The locals call them the Solotuns, but what they are called on official maps escapes me. Maybe I've just never noticed them before. They aren't a large range, but I still can't imagine they would have been completely left off all official maps. But then again, we searched those maps so much… Perhaps I just don't remember.

Nov. 14th

It's morning. I decided I should sleep before sending this letter, in case I thought of anything I wanted to add. Sometimes it's maddening waiting for Hermes so that I can send word to you. Not that he takes a long time, I just seem to think of things just after sending him away.

The other day I was thinking I should be making a more detailed record of our journey, but what would I say? "Told 4 fortunes today, most of them ridiculous dramatics. These people simply do not have lives where there is much to foretell. Got food and a little money in return. Excellent stew, though the meat was not as tender as Brynn's." Honestly, what good would a record like that be? I suppose our conversations would be worth recording, but somehow that would diminish them… make them less like confidences shared and more like the minutes of some dull council meeting. Recording the words could never capture the longing, the nostalgia, the wistfulness that accompanies them.

I'm rambling again. I guess I feel like I should have more to say. And yet I don't. I did visit Brynn last night and all is well with them. Father is much stronger and they are going to talk with him today or tomorrow about all of this. I have left it to Brynn what to tell and what to keep from him. I imagine she will tell nearly everything, though. There's little reason not to now. You know, in many ways I feel like I should protect my father from all of this. Silly, considering he's the adult and he probably already knows a fair amount. But somehow, I feel sorry for him. I realize now that he's spent 10 years torn between indulging me and not letting me get involved in all of this. Like he's been struggling with whether or not he wants me to be like my mother. On the one hand, he feels she would be proud if I developed my powers and talents and became like her, but on the other hand, he blames all this for her death. He's never been completely sure how to deal with me because of that and so in some ways he simply hasn't dealt with it at all. He's let me do whatever I want (within reason, or rather convention) for most of my life. At least since Mother died. Will he be sad or relieved that I know so much now? Will he be happy or disappointed that I'm more like my mother every day? I see now that he's always been torn between his great love for her and I, and his fear of losing me the same way. To stamp out anything in me that is like her would be a betrayal, but to not do so, he risks losing me. I wish I'd figured all this out sooner.

Well, we've finished our breakfast of cheese and bread and must start out now, so I will have to close. I'm sorry I never seem to have all that much to say. Maybe next time I'll make Jace help me think of stories to tell you. I'm sure we could come up with something amusing.

Give my love to everyone there. Oh, and you may tell Tulson that if he checks the "secret" pocket of his bag, he will see that at the very least, we are even. (I may have been out of it lately, Liop wasn‘t! He is quite a helpful scamp.)

Stay safe, Arri.
Love always,

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Arri- November 10, 2003

November 10, 2004
Dear Keish,

I have your last letter in my hand, and I am trying to think what to write. It’s so terribly sad. I wonder how things would be different if the child had been born. Do you know what the child is supposed to accomplish? I hope it isn’t too late.

When we were children everything seemed so simple, but it never really was, was it? Sometimes I think our parents lived in different worlds than us. I wish we could have helped them. We’re helping them now, or trying to at least.

I’m glad that Uncle Adlen will be okay, and that your journey has been easy and people have been kind. Do you know where you’re going yet? I mean how to get to the cave? Or which cave you’re going to? We’ve found out about so many of them. Sometimes I think there must be a great hollow mountain somewhere that’s full of caves. I hope you are making good progress, and I’m glad that you still write to me, but do you think it’s really good to distance yourself from everyone? Imato says you shouldn’t act like a martyr, and I told him you weren’t. It would be so frightening to have someone try to kill you. Maybe like the night I almost was abducted.
I didn’t expect to learn anything useful until Uncle Winthrop came back. But you know, Keish, the strangest things happen to me sometimes.

Imato came yesterday. He rode into town with such a large party that I knew he was coming nearly an hour before he arrived, because Journey Inn is a center for gossip, and a large party of soldiers creates a lot of gossip. From the villagers, it sounded like Imato had brought an entire troop. The villagers were rather disappointed to find only three actual soldiers (gathered from Odsreq on the way), two squires (Imato and his good friend Leonard Thorn), Prince Tulson (once he was recognized the villagers perked up), and Sean and Mendel.

I ran out to meet them and Imato picked me up and spun me around twice. Then I led them all back to the inn. Imato sent the others to deal with their supplies and room arrangements. Once everyone was dispersed except the two of us, he sat me down in the nearest chair and gave me a lecture that any father would have been proud of. I didn’t have anything to do but listen, since it was impossible to get a word in edgewise. Besides, I could tell that I had frightened him, and thinking back on the whole adventure, I felt rather foolish and guilty for attempting it. Finally, Imato ran out of things to say.

“Well?” he asked me.

I looked up into his face and saw, for the first time, something of Father’s grandeur and more than a little of his love. I dropped my head again.

“I’m sorry, Imato,” I murmured.

Imato put his hand on my shoulder and I dared to look up again.

“I did do it, though, didn’t I?” I ventured, “I found Uncle W.”

Imato grinned a little, more like the boy who used to play with me.

“Yeah, you did it, Arri,” he said, “I don’t know how, but you did it.”

Then he took a step back, and I began to tell him about my adventure.

That was last night, and even though I went to bed very late, with only a little soup in my stomach, I still woke up with the first light of dawn. I went walking alone along the banks of the River Eden. It was beautiful! Red and orange leaves drifting gently to the ground like flashes of flame, and filtered light sparkling on the water. The river Eden is more like a stream than a river, but it’s the source of life for the residents of Onoff. Sometimes I wonder why they would like to live in a place so dry, but on a morning like this, I can see that even deserts are beautiful.
Kestrel followed me, batting at stray leaves and moths. I sang all my favorite songs, and thought about lots of different things and sometimes about nothing at all. Once in a while I would think about eating dinner in the inn’s dining room with Imato and all his companions, although I was too excited to eat much. Then I would think about how nice it will be when we’re all back in Odsreq as a family and Father is cured of his madness. I sang Mother’s “Cherry Tree Song” more times than I could count, but then I grew silent and just ambled along the river’s edge, feeling peaceful. Imato told Mrs. Journey I can go where I please from now on. He said anyone who can tackle a griffon ought to have that right. I left a note on Imato’s door so he wouldn’t worry.

Then, unexpectedly, I came upon Mendel, strolling along in the opposite direction with a fishing pole over his shoulder. My first impulse was to turn around and walk away quickly and quietly before he saw me, but I didn’t. I just stood there looking at him. He was humming softly, too soft for me to make out the tune. I took a slow step backwards, but my foot landed on a dry leaf that crackled lightly under the pressure. Mendel looked up and saw me.

“Hi, Arri,” he said, grinning as if at a very good joke.

I waited for a joke or an insult, but he only put one hand behind his back, and it occurred to me that he hasn’t really made fun of me in a long time.

“Hi,” I said politely.

“How are you?” asked Mendel slowly. He tossed a pebble thoughtlessly into the river.

“Very well,” I said.

“That’s good,” he looked like he wanted to say more. I waited awkwardly.

“Have you seen any more spikebacks lately?” he asked with a mischievous grin.

“No,” I responded.

“The reason I asked is because I saw one three days ago. It was all yellow with green spikes, and it had gold horns and streaks on its face. It reminded me of you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. There was a stretch of silence, during which Mendel threw another large rock into the river. He’s going to ruin his fishing, I thought.

“I can skip a rock farther than anyone,” said Mendel suddenly, “do you want to see?”

I didn’t know what skipping meant, but I nodded politely. Mendel immediately got down on his hands and knees and began crawling among the rocks.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Looking for a round, flat rock,” said Mendel.

I waited for a couple of minutes; then decided to speed things up by helping him. I got down on my hands and knees.

“Aren’t you worried about your dress?” Mendel asked.

“It’s old,” I said.

For the next few minutes rock hunting consumed us. Every once in a while I would find a rock that seemed to meet the criteria and show it to him. He would say it was not flat or round enough and we would continue searching. Finally Mendel found one he liked. He showed it to me, but since I didn’t know what he was going to do with it, I didn’t say much.

Mendel stood at the edge of the river and threw the rock out into it—threw it different this time, kind of like you throw a discus. The rock jumped lightly across the water several times before sinking, as if it was enchanted to bounce on water. But I never heard Mendel utter a spell.

“Is it magic?” I asked with mild interest.

Mendel smiled. “No,” he said, “just physics. The rock is aerodynamic, like a bird, and if you throw right, it skims over the surface of the air like a wing, and when the flat side hits the water, it bounces. Do you want to see another?”

I nodded, and we began hunting among the rocks again. I snagged my dress a little, and Mendel looked worried, but I said I didn’t care. After a couple more minutes Mendel spoke again.
“I came looking for you this morning,” he said, “we’re never alone together, and I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” I asked.

Mendel turned very red.

“Lots of things,” he said, grinning, “skipping stones, for example.”

Mendel can be infuriating. I thought about leaving, but I didn’t. Instead I watched as he found a good rock, and went through the motions of throwing it slowly, so that I could watch the technique. Then he threw the rock and it skipped more times than the first one. He found a rock for me to throw. My rock plunked awkwardly in the river. Mendel laughed and found me another one. Then he guided my hand to throw it correctly. It bounced once and sank into the river, like magic. I think we spent at least an hour finding rocks and throwing them. Mendel asked me about the griffon, and how I could control it. I told him about the rosehips and the bridle. He laughed, but this time I don’t think he was mocking. I finally got a stone to skip three times. Mendel sang The White Lion’s Victory Song and stamped his feet. It was funny, and I laughed at him.

“Mendel,” I asked, “is it about what you were doing the night Glory was stolen?”

“About what?” Mendel’s face went very red and he hit the ground with his fishing pole.

“Is it?” I demanded.

“I was asleep,” he said finally, his voice full of remorse, “I’m so sorry, Arri. You could’ve been killed, and I was asleep.”

I was startled. “You didn’t know someone would come though,” I told him; then my eyes widened, “Or did you?” I asked.

Mendel shrugged.

“When I was five, Arri,” he said quickly, “I used to go looking for frog eggs in the stagnant pools along the river.” He looked up at me questioningly.

“Frog eggs?” I asked with confusion.

“Yes, and… well, one day I came upon a fairy in a trap. It wasn’t an ordinary trap like yours with ropes and pits. It was a magical trap made out of force fields—strong walls of magic—and it was set within a rather large fairy ring. The harder the fairy pushed against the trap, the stronger the walls became. They were feeding off her magic.

“Well, I didn’t have any magic in me—not an ounce. So when the fairy saw me, she asked me to reach through the force field and give me her hand. Since I didn’t have any magic and the force fields worked by absorbing magic, I could reach my hand through without any problem. The fairy took my hand in hers and used me as a channel to call for help from the other fairies. They came in just a few minutes and after a lot of spells, they managed to break through the force field and get the fairy out.

“After that the fairy came to visit me regularly—in the fairy ring, of course—and we became good friends.”

“What was her name?” I asked.

“She didn’t know. Fairies never do know their names.”

I thought about this for a minute, but I couldn’t see a connection between the men’s kidnap attempt and the fairy’s rescue. Mendel started talking again.

“The fairy asked me to never tell anyone about her, and I didn’t,” he said, “But we used to meet sometimes and play magic games, and I would tell her about my life and my family and she would listen. Sometimes the things I told her troubled her—she thought they reminded her of something, but she was never very sure what. She was always trying to remember, and I tried to help her.

“There’s something else you should know about what happened. When someone magical, like a fairy, uses you as a channel for their magic, they can’t help but leave some of their magic behind when they finish. So I became magical—not a strong magic like what you and Liop have—just small magic, and especially magic related to traps and finding things, because that’s what I was doing when she used me as a channel—I was looking for frog eggs and helping her out of a trap.

“That’s why my traps never worked with you,” I said.

“Not the way you thought they would,” said Mendel slowly and he looked away. I wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but he started talking again.

“Then one day about two years ago as we were talking, you came along. I already knew you from school, because you’d been in Odsreq for a couple of years, but of course the fairy had never seen you before. She stopped what she was saying and stared at you with all the color draining from her face, as though she were seeing a ghost. And you couldn’t see us, because we were in the fairy ring.”

“Two years ago,” I whispered.

“ ‘Who is that girl?’ the fairy asked me,” Mendel continued.

“ ‘Arri,’ I said, and then because she looked so interested I added, ‘Arrietta Fae Etautca. She’s the daughter of Sir Quin Etautca who was killed in battle.’

“The fairy looked at me and began to tremble. I’d never seen her look so troubled before, so I asked her what was wrong, but she didn’t know. She just kept repeating your name over and over again. Then she stepped to the edge of the fairy ring and looked as though she wanted to call you over, but she didn’t.

“ ‘Her father is dead?’ she asked me.

“ ‘Both her parents are dead; she lives with her uncle. Are you all right?’ I said.

“ ‘I promised to look after her if her mother died,’ the fairy whispered.

“ ‘Did you know Lady Etautca?’ I asked.

“The fairy began to pace up and down in distress. It was like the day she was caught in the trap.

“ ‘I made a promise,’ she whispered, ‘I made a promise.’ She started to step out of the fairy ring, but then she stopped.

“ ‘I’m a fairy, Mendel,’ she cried wildly, ‘they made me a fairy!’—as though it were something terrible—‘I can’t cross these mushrooms.’

“I wanted to help her, so I asked what I could do…” Mendel stopped. He looked down and I thought about things.

“She bade you watch me,” I said softly, “that’s why I was always running into you. That’s why…” I started to say you wouldn’t leave me alone, but I stopped myself.

“The night the men came and tried to abduct you, I was supposed to be watching the cottage. I’d watched countless nights before at the fairy’s request—she didn’t ask every night, but once in a while when she knew something she couldn’t tell me about. But nothing had ever happened before. I would sit in the forest just beyond the garden.

“That night…I fell asleep. I don’t know how long I slept, but I woke up to strange sounds coming from the forest. I ran to your cottage, but it was in a shambles and you were gone. Arri, I was frightened. I thought they had taken you. I tracked them for more than a mile, but one of the men had magic more powerful than mine, and they lost me. Then I went to the fairy ring and called the fairy. When I told her what happened, she almost lost her mind with fright. I told her I would find you—that I’d go back for my horses and find you. She said she’d come with me—that she’d step out of the fairy ring. They can do that, but it costs them terribly, and they can never go back. I told her not to leave the ring—I told her I could find you myself.”

“Is that when she left the ring?” I asked.

“No, because when I went back for the horses I found you safe with Tulson. I can’t tell you how relieved I was. You could have been killed.” Mendel dropped his head guiltily.

“It’s all right,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder, “none of us knew there was any danger in my staying alone, and I was all right anyway. Even Glory is all right.”

We were silent for a minute.

“When did the fairy leave the ring?” I asked finally, “She did leave it.”

Mendel looked surprised.

“She left the day you found the griffon,” he said, watching me closely, “it was the day you went somewhere too fast for me to follow,” he paused, “but how do you know about that?”

I opened my mouth to tell him, and then realized I didn’t know, so I shut it again.

“Do you know where she is, Arri?” asked Mendel anxiously, “I think she might be in trouble.”

I think I’m going to end my letter here, Keish. There doesn’t seem to be much more to tell. Mendel hasn’t seen Marigold since she went after me, and I haven’t seen her either. He thinks it’s a bad sign, but he doesn’t know what to do about it. All the way to Onoff he kept scouting ahead, hoping to pick up a trace of Marigold or me. He even hoped to find us together.

Uncle Winthrop is still looking for Father, but we expect him back soon. Mendel and Imato will go looking for him if he doesn’t show up on time. Imato says he has no intention of hanging around for months waiting for a missing person to turn up again, and unless someone can show him a body, he’ll never believe anyone’s dead.

I hope that your journey is still going smoothly. Do you feel close to finding the cave yet? Do you remember when you said that maybe Liop could draw a map to it? I wonder about that sometimes, but I don’t really want to draw Liop any further into this. He’s safer with Gretel.
Imato says use your head before you use your powers, and don’t go charging into anything you’re unsure of. And don’t start using your powers just because he told you not to.

Everyone sends their love, and Tulson reminds you that he’s still one up on the pranks.

May your path be full of light.
Love,



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Keish- November 7, 2003

November 7, 2003
Dear Arri,

I am sorry to have caused you concern. I’m sure my father will be equally worried when he learns I’ve left. I have made Gretel promise not to tell him until he is stronger. I know I’ve been remiss in my duties, not caring for him, but I know he is in safe hands. Honestly, I’ve been trying to distance myself from him-- from everyone. I thought if I did, no one else would become a target. Obviously I was wrong.

I knew my food could be poisoned, so I stopped taking anything not prepared by Brynn. I didn’t think they would poison my father’s food. Again, I was wrong, and the mistake nearly cost my father’s life. I had to leave-- everyone should be safe with me gone. Jace might not have been, considering the rumors and what I think is going on, so he had to come too. I know it will probably make the rumors worse, but we will not be there to be pawns.

I’m sure you will notice the difference in writing-- I am too agitated to write, so I am dictating while Jace writes. I’m pacing around the clearing like a caged animal, for that’s how I feel.
There is so much to tell, I don’t know where to begin…

Our journey thus far has been uneventful. We haven’t been pushing hard, but just enjoying (to what little extent is possible) the journey. If the circumstances were different, I would be enjoying it immensely. We have seen so many little villages and met so many kind people. We are careful not to give our real names, but are traveling as fortune tellers.

I know Gretel told you some about my powers. They are growing daily and I have surpassed Brynn, though only in power, not in understanding or wisdom. Gretel told you I am able to communicate with them, didn’t she? I am able to not only have visions and dreams but to enter the dreams of others to speak with them. I can only communicate this way with Brynn, since to intrude in the dreams of anyone without visionary power could be very dangerous for them. Talking with Brynn allows me to get information to and from everyone.

Gretel said she told you of her suspicions that all of the rumors and such around the castle had to do with a cycle coming to a close and that I should be with child. She’s right, but those who see it that way have misinterpreted the prophecy. I know now what it is, or at least what part of it was. A child was prophesied whose powers would be unmatched-- unrivaled. The fairies would naturally want this child; it is the one they would choose from that generation. But the prophecy stated that the child would be needed here, in our world. This prophecy is the heart of my mother’s murder. If she was killed she could not have that child-- and now if I’m killed I cannot. But the time is approaching that the child will be needed, and no child has been born. A child was conceived, but the pregnancy was cut short. My mother was pregnant when she was killed, Arri. I don’t think anyone knew, so I think she was just killed to prevent the eventuality of a child.
With all that, I don’t know what else to say. I intended this to be a much longer letter, but it took so much to get that out, that I can’t seem to say anything else.

Give my love to Uncle W.-- I know he doesn’t agree with how I handle things, but I know what I’m doing.

I think he knows the other half of the prophecy. See what you can get him to tell you. This paper is enchanted again, so he won’t be able to read it. Tell him whatever you feel is appropriate.
Oh! I’m glad you’ve sort of found your father! I’m sure we will find a way to help him.
I’m sorry, I just can’t get more out right now. I’m still having a hard time with what I’ve learned.

Stay safe
Love always



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Arri- November 3, 2003

November 3, 2003
Dear Keish,

Are you all right? Where are you? What are you doing? I know I ran off too, but I’m so worried. Adventuring is so much harder than it looks. I feel like my whole world is upside down again. It’s not quite the same as when Father died, or Mother, but it’s frightening, and I feel so small. I hope you feel brave and strong, and that you know what you’re doing. I’m glad Jace is with you. He won’t abandon you. You won’t be alone.

How are you traveling? Do you have horses to ride? Does Uncle Adlen know you’re gone? I have a letter from Gretel explaining everything that happened. She says you got a letter from Uncle W., and that someone tried to poison you. Do you know who? Have you had any visions about it? Do you know anything more about Brynn’s prophecy? I have too many questions.

I will pause here and think, because I have so much to tell you, but I have to tell it in order or it won’t make sense. Besides, Nozama just came inside covered in dirt and he’s scattering it all through Treythan and Flora’s cabin. I need to catch him and clean up.

The morning after I got your letter, I woke up just at dawn. Treythan and Flora were still asleep, so I stepped quietly out to the stables to see Glory. Glory looks marvelously better now that she’s rested and had some oats to eat. I found a brush and set to work making her chocolate coat shine as much as possible. She’s looking rounder now, and when I held my hand up against her belly, I could feel movement. The foal isn’t due until April, but sometimes I feel like I can almost feel its presence. After I brushed Glory, I brushed Treythan’s gelding and the pair of nanny goats. Nozama and Kestrel chased each other playfully around hay bales, and I found a rake to clean out the stables. Then I gave everyone fresh hay, and found an apple for Nozama.I was headed back to the cabin to see about a milking pail when I almost ran into Treythan coming around the side of the house. He still looked a little sleepy and very surprised to see me.

“There you are!” he said, “what have you been up to?”

“Taking care of the animals,” I told him. He looked me up and down.

“Do noble young ladies do stable work these days?” he asked.

I felt my face turn bright red. I put my hands behind my back to hide the dirt in my fingernails and looked down. I couldn’t help it. Treythan clucked thoughtfully.

“Well there isn’t any harm in it,” he said more kindly, “but you’ll want to scrub that dress and clean your hands before Lord Brio arrives.”

That struck me as funny, because Uncle W. is the one who gave me permission to learn about stable work in the first place. I looked boldly back up at Treythan.

“What should I do?” I asked.

“Whatever pleases you,” Treythan responded, and he walked away from me. I thought that stable work pleases me very much, but I didn’t dare say so out loud. Instead I went inside to see
if Flora was awake yet.

I found Flora sitting on the floor of the cabin with my satchel open and Mother’s fairy book open in her lap. She looked up at me with a bright smile.

“Good morning, Arri!” she exclaimed, “Your fairytales are wonderful!”
She looked down at the book with a child-like expression of joy. I sat down next to her and together we read a couple of the stories. Flora had never heard anything like them before. She was enchanted. After we finished, Flora made pancakes and we drenched them in apricot jam. Treythan joined us, and we had a pleasant breakfast. I started to help Flora with the dishes, but Treythan stopped me. He seemed convinced that Uncle W. would be upset if he found out what I’d been up to. Keish, sometimes I really feel confused about what’s expected of me.

After breakfast, Flora pulled me outside to talk. She led me around the cabin, telling stories about the garden and pointing out the remains of summer birds’ nests. Then, with a secretive smile she led me into the woods to the crumbling remains of a lightning struck tree. The circumference of the stump was like a wagon wheel; most of the bark had disintegrated, leaving smooth yellow wood streaked black where the lightning burned it. Flora began removing clusters of dry gray moss from the top of the stump.

“You showed me your treasures, so I’m going to show you mine,” she explained eagerly. I knelt down in the leaves near the stump and watched. I soon discovered that the stump was hollow inside, and that Flora hid her treasures inside it.

The first thing Flora showed me was a creamy white conch shell the size of a small summer squash. The outside of the shell looked rougher than it really was. Flora set in my hand and gave me a long history of its origins while I listened to the murmur of the sea. It reminded me of mother and father and the house we lived in near Dock-and-Green just two hours by carriage from your palace in Arella. I was only five and we only lived there a year, but I remember it. I bought a shell like Flora’s from a shop in town. Imato told me that if I sang into it, mermaids would be able to hear me out in the ocean. I’d like to see that house again.

The second thing Flora withdrew was a long slender piece of well polished wood.

“A magic wand,” I breathed in wonder, and I felt a chill as I said it.

“There isn’t any magic left,” Flora said as she handed it to me, “Grandfather wouldn’t let me keep it if it still had magic.” She sighed with disappointment.

“Whose was it?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Flora said, “I found it in the woods. It was all dry and starting to crack, so I sanded it and polished it. It looks almost new, don’t you think?”

I’ve never seen a wand before, though of course I know about them. They can be terribly dangerous. Imato asked Uncle W. about them once and he said that most people make wands to use as tools for focusing and strengthening their magic, but if someone steals your wand, they can use it to drain all of your magic. That’s why wands are so rare. Once you make one, it’s hard to destroy. Listening to Uncle W., I sometimes wonder why anyone would want to make a wand.Flora’s wand felt strangely hollow in my hand. I didn’t like the sensation, so I returned it to her quickly. Flora explained to me that even though she doesn’t have any magic of her own, that she’s “magic sensitive”, and can tell when people or things have magic in them. I guess it’s the last trace of her magical heritage, and it makes me sad to think of her being able to sense magic without being able to use it.

Flora returned the wand carefully to the stump. Her smile turned secretive again.
“This is the best thing,” she said dramatically, “I found it, but I never showed Grandfather. It still has magic in it, you see, so Grandfather would never let me keep it.”

Slowly and reverently, she withdrew a large, slightly concave piece of metal. It was so highly polished that I could see my reflection upside-down like in a spoon, but much larger. I took the metal into my hand and immediately felt a surge of strong magic. It was a piece of silvered steel armor. I don’t know for sure what part of the suit it came from because the piece wasn’t whole. However, the broken edges were so smooth that it must have been broken a long time ago. I turned the piece over to look for etchings which would tell me where it came from and how old it was, but the piece was smooth on both sides, completely featureless.

“Do you know what it is?” asked Flora eagerly.

I told her it was a piece of armor. This excited her and she asked a flurry of questions about it, but I couldn’t answer most of them. I know a lot about armor normally, but this piece baffled me. I kept thinking that it must have had etchings at one time and they wore off. I told Flora this and she got a broad smile on her face, but she didn’t say anything.

Much later that night, I was sleeping very soundly with Nozama and Kestrel curled up next to me, when I felt someone shake me gently. I opened my eyes to see Flora grinning at me.
“Come outside,” she whispered, “but don’t wake Grandfather!”

I gently moved Nozama to my pillow, and followed Flora outside with Kestrel prancing alongside us, delighted to be allowed outside in the moonlight. Flora led me back to the stump in the woods. The night air was chilly and we were both wrapped in patchwork quilts. Dramatically, Flora cleared off the moss from the stump. Then she lifted something out, keeping it hidden behind her quilt while she led me to clearing filled with dewy, yellow grass sparkling in the moonlight.

“Look!” said Flora, and she opened her blanket to reveal the piece of armor she had shown me that morning.

But the silvered steel was no longer smooth and featureless. I took the cold metal into my hands and held it out before my face. It was a piece of breast-plate with a large, intricately etched coat of arms in the center—a hart rearing over a shield shape. The hart was exactly like the one on the helmet I saw in the cave the first time I held a magnifying glass over my fairy book. The shield contained a pair of flowers on long intertwined stems and three stars at the top. Of course you will recognize this design—it is the Brio Family Crest. But I’ve never seen our crest paired with a hart before. The hart doesn’t belong to any crest I’m familiar with. I think maybe it’s a very old symbol that isn’t used anymore. Father has a book in his library that might tell us about it, but it’s in storage with the rest of Imato’s, Liop’s, and my inheritance. We can’t have it until Imato gains his knighthood. I didn’t say very much to Flora about the piece of armor. I didn’t know what to say.

The next day, I got up early and went out to the stable to brush Glory. I didn’t dare do anything else though. Then I went back inside. Flora heated some water in their brick oven so I could bathe myself. After all my adventures, it felt wonderful to be clean again! While I was bathing, Flora scrubbed my cotton traveling dress. Most of the stains came out, but it is starting to look rather worn, and the lace collar is ruined beyond repair, so I removed it from the dress and gave it to Kestrel to play with. Once I was dressed again I spent most of the remainder of the day helping Flora card wool (apparently Treythan considers this a lady-like activity). Not much else happened until evening.

Flora had just put soup over the hearth for dinner when someone knocked at the door. We all looked up, and Treythan opened the door.

“Excuse me,” came a man’s voice, “I’m looking for…” but I didn’t give him time to finish.

“Uncle W.!” I shouted, racing for the door. I pushed Treythan out of my way so that I could throw my arms around Uncle Winthrop. He laughed and hugged me back.

“Are you well, Arri?” he demanded when I finally let go of him.

I immediately started trying to fill him in on everything that had happened since his disappearance, but he stopped me.

“You must be well if you can talk that fast!” he laughed, “but let’s save explanations for later, child.” I fell silent while Uncle W. and Treythan introduced themselves and Flora jumped in with her own introductions. Then Treythan and Flora insisted we all rest in front of the fire until dinner was ready. It was the same sort of treatment I received when I first arrived—physical needs first, explanations later. Uncle W. accepted everything they offered with respect and gratitude. I expected him to try and offer them money, as I had, but he didn’t offer them anything. Only after he had answered all of their polite (and not too personal) questions, did he ask permission to walk outside with me for a while.

By the time we got outside, I felt like I was going to explode with everything I wanted to tell him, and it seemed impossible to get everything said quickly enough. Uncle W. kept stopping me to ask questions and to slow me down. I tried to ask him questions from time to time, but he just shook his head and told me continue my tale. Occasionally my words surprised him, but not often. And he wasn’t at all angry at me for coming after him. In fact, he didn’t scold me about anything. Only after he had heard my side of the story was he willing to tell me his, and then he spoke with great reluctance. I stayed quiet through all of it, feeling that questions might only make him more reluctant.

All this happened October 30th, so I didn’t have Gretel’s letter yet, and I didn’t know anything. Everything Uncle W. said was new to me. He told me about hearing an impossible rumor that my father was alive, and about being captured by the Narls. He told me about everything, except one thing. Not once did he mention the hooded man, or even suggest he ever existed. Finally, I couldn’t stand this anymore.

“What about the hooded man?” I asked.

Uncle W. said nothing.

“Do you know who he is?” I asked.

“He doesn’t know who he is himself,” said Uncle W. quietly. He put his arm around me. “He attacked the camp one night shortly after the Narls returned from trying to kidnap you. I don’t know why—he hardly seemed aware of what he was doing. I think the Narls would have killed him in a moment if I hadn’t stopped them.”

“How did you stop them if you were all tied up with rope and spells?” I asked immediately.Silence. I felt a chill run through me.

“How?” I asked again, more softly.

“I told them who he was,” said Uncle Winthrop.

I didn’t understand.

“You recognized him?” I asked.

“The moment I saw him, I knew who he was, and when I told the Narls, they saw that keeping him alive might be useful.”

“Who— ?” I stopped short. Tears were rolling down Uncle Winthrop’s face and into his short, coarsely cut beard.

“It is Quin,” he whispered, “your father, Arri.”

We had been walking along the edge of Treythan’s vegetable patch. I stopped short. I think Ialmost fainted. I didn’t say anything; my mind was completely blank.

“Oh, Arri, I’m so sorry for telling you,” said Uncle W., “I don’t know what happened to him. I don’t even know how to help him. He’s lost all his memories.” Uncle W. put his large, strong hands over his face and began to sob. In the moonlight, his light brown hair looked gray and he looked much older than I have ever seen him look.

It took a long time for me to pull my thoughts together, but when I did, I started to shout in a kind of desperation.

“Where is he?” I demanded, “We have to find him! What happened to him? Has he seen a healer?”

Uncle W. let me shout myself hoarse. Then he shook his head sadly.

“Of course we’ll find him, Arri,” he said finally, “but you have to understand that it isn’t Sir Quin we’re looking for—it’s a mad woodsman. He won’t just come running when we call, and he won’t come willingly when we find him.”

“He’ll come,” I said helplessly.

“No, Arri,” said Uncle W. gently, “but don’t worry. We’ll get him to a doctor, and a home for people with troubles like his. Perhaps they can help him.”

I didn’t say anything. I felt like the ground was moving underneath me—like the world was turning upside-down. My father was back, but not really.

I won’t say anything more about that night, Keish. I need to finish this letter and send it.The next morning, Uncle W. and Treythan had a long talk that I wasn’t allowed to listen to, so I went out to the garden with Flora. But I didn’t want to play. Flora chattered until she realized I wasn’t listening. Then she fell silent.

Eventually they came out to the garden with us and told us their plans. Uncle W. and I would leave for Onoff the next morning. Then Uncle W. would leave me at an inn while he returned to search for my father. He promised to return in a week if he didn’t find father to tell me about the search. He also promised not to give up until Father was found. And he said I could stay at the inn until then.

Flora threw a temper tantrum when she heard the plan and insisted that I could stay with her, but Treythan stood firm and though I could see that it pained him to refuse her, he did so. Finally she ran off in a temper, and I was left alone to pack.

We left the next morning, borrowing Treythan’s gelding for me to ride, and leading Glory with Kestrel and Nozama on her back. Gretel’s letter came when we were in Onoff. I read it first and then gave it Uncle W., explaining who Gretel was. He read it slowly with a worried frown on his face. Then he handed it back to me.

“Keish really should have confided in her father,” he said.

“But Uncle Adlen hasn’t been well,” I defended you.

Uncle W. shook his head, and didn’t say anything else. I tried to ask about the prophecy, but he told me to wait until later, whenever that is.

So I am here in an inn in Onoff with orders to wait for Imato to arrive. I feel like I’m about to go crazy. The innkeeper, a man named Franz Journey, has been promised money to keep track of me. In order to comply with this, he ordered me into the kitchen to help his wife prepare meals. Mrs. Journey is a nice lady, but I’m not used to being watched so much, and I long to go walking alone sometimes, but of course that isn’t allowed.

Keish, I will do anything to help my father. Surely there must be something I can do to restore his memory—a potion, a spell, something…! Please help me! I wish I had Mother’s healing skills. I feel ready to brave the desert and mountains again, if it will help me find a cure. I feel so desperate!

I know that you have a lot on your mind already, and that you’re having your own adventure, but maybe our adventures are connected. Maybe you feel drawn to the Cave of Wishes because the cure for my father is there. I don’t know. I’ve always been told that the water is dangerous, but Liop drank it, and he’s all right. Maybe… maybe…

Please write back soon and let me know how you are. I’ve lost so many people; I don’t want to lose you too. Be careful!
Love,



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