True Sight (Tales of Eventyr Book 1) Page 2

  “That, combined with the wood on the frame and the right spell. It will fix everything when she sees this." The last twenty years of exile would be forgiven if this worked. It had to work. Living in a tree was no place for a sorcerer, even if he and Anessa had enchanted it to provide the comforts he missed from the castle.

  "Uzgesinti," he said. The flames swallowed the smoke and extinguished themselves.

  “Sveve folg meg.” He flicked his finger at the cauldron, and it followed him to his work table. He re-checked the clamps to make sure the frame, created from an ancient maple, would stay in place. He motioned to the cauldron and it began pouring out its contents. The silver rippled like water before gently swaying to a stop. This was it, the moment of truth.

  "Sklandziai ir nustatyti," Rothe said. The silver hardened and became a perfectly flat surface. When it didn’t turn black, he let out a sigh. The warmth of hope spread through him. He’d never made it this far.

  “Sanne selv bli apenbart for de som soker. Vis hjertet av alle skapninger.” As he spoke the ancient words, magic carved them into the wooden frame over and over.

  When he finished, the letters swirled, and the frame burst into white flames. The fire burned out and, Rothe gasped at the sight. The wood was now white from ash, almost a silver in color. Hints of black char detailed the edges into a gift fit for a queen, a perfect balance to the unblemished silver mirror it housed.

  He grabbed a cloth and began polishing the edges.

  Anessa reached toward the glass. "It's perfect," she said in awe.

  Rothe grabbed her hand. “Don’t touch it.”

  "You've outdone yourself. Surely the King and Queen will reinstate you to High Sorcerer for such a grand gift."

  "After what I've done?”

  "It was an accident, Rothe."

  "It doesn't matter."

  "Then why go through all this trouble?"

  "Because she asked for it." She’d asked for this gift the day everything fell apart.

  "Give her up, Rothe. It's been twenty years. You’ve lived here for twenty years!"

  "You'll never understand."

  "What is there to understand? You almost killed the queen because of the poor excuse for a king, and then you healed her. You’ve spent years in hiding even after the king stopped looking." She crossed her arms. “If you can’t go back, then stay with me.”

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Doesn’t our time together matter even a little?” She reached for him.

  He turned away from her, ignoring the question, knowing it would only continue the argument they had shared for the last few years. "Did you get the information I asked for?" He motioned for the cauldron to move down to the ground. She’d cave first, like she always did.

  "Fine,” she spat with venom in her voice. “Your precious Queen Adalyn will be hosting a celebration at the castle in three days. Her eldest daughter is marrying the Elf King from the Sky Mountains."

  "Wonderful."

  “Don’t expect me to be here when you get back.”

  She stomped out of the room, flicking her wand so that every mirror she passed crashed to the floor.

  Rothe shook his head, and cringed as echoes of shattering glass sounded from outside the room. A whistling wind swept through the house, followed by more glass breaking. She’d spelled herself away and left him to clean up the magical mess left behind. She’d come back, like she always did.

  No one but Adalyn would understand. He'd been careless and let his emotions get the better of him that day at the castle. He still relived the incident in his dreams. He hadn’t meant to create the toxic gas. He’d saved her, and she’d married that pampered Prince months later. After the hushed death of the old king, over the years as queen, she gave birth to four children. The pain of his arm was nothing compared to the knowledge that those children should have been his.

  ****

  His creation done, Rothe needed Anessa. Not only was she a skilled healer, but a transporter. She could get him and his creation inside the castle without anyone knowing.

  He hadn't seen her in the three days it took him to clean up the magic she’d unleashed by breaking the mirrors. While their argument was an old one, and her absence the same, he'd need to grovel if he wanted her to do his bidding.

  Rothe moved to the door to the closet near the front door of his home. He turned the knob three clicks right and pulled it open. Instead of leading into a musty closet filled with cloaks and staffs, it opened to a special meadow. Decades ago he’d crafted the meadow to grow every flower year round. It could snow for a month in Eventyr and not a flake would hinder this paradise, accessible only through two doors.

  He strode out to the roses. Red would make Anessa happy with the promise of love, but it wasn’t time for those words to pass his lips.

  He moved past them to the pink.

  Perfect.

  Yes, these would do. He plucked a single stem, returned to his doorway, and stepped through. In his home once more he closed the door and went to the table with the quill and parchment.

  Dearest Anessa

  He crossed that out. Too intimate. He tapped his foot as he thought.

  You’ve sheltered me and provided a refuge. I hate to ask for more.

  That should do it. He grabbed his cloak off a hook, placed the rose in his pocket, and retrieved his staff. By the time he retraced his steps to the door, half the day was gone. Not much time left. Using the knob once more, he turned four clicks left.

  This time the door opened between two trees near her cottage. It would have taken him half a day to walk there, and then he would have missed the festivities at the castle. She didn’t know about the abilities of his door. It was his secret to keep, his escape plan if he was ever found.

  He crossed the stone bridge and approached the door to her home. The air felt heavy with magic, almost like walking through water. A sizzling sound zipped around him. Good thing she was willing to let him near her. The spells around him would have fried him like bacon. He was lucky she didn’t live with the covens. He didn’t want to know what magic surrounded the black mountain.

  He stopped in front of her door and held up the rose with the attached note at eye level.

  “Plavati,” as he said it, he let go. Magic sparks flew around the flower, freezing it in place.

  He knocked on the door then stepped into the shadows so she wouldn’t see him.

  She answered the door in her glamoured form. Appearing as he preferred, she must have expected him. Black curls reached her waist, her blue eyes gleamed when she saw the rose. A soft smile touched her red lips after reading the note.

  “I know you are out there, Rothe.”

  He went to her and took both of her fair skinned hands in his.

  “I need you.”

  “You always do.” She leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek.

  He twitched as a twinge of annoyance spread through him.

  “What is it this time?”

  “Transport me to the castle.”

  She crossed her arms. “And then you’ll be done with this obsession?”

  “This will finish it.”

  “Fine, wait here.” She stepped into her house with the rose and a moment later came out with her wand.

  “Put your arms around me.”

  Rothe did as he was told. His one arm still hung at his side, weak and disfigured.

  Anessa circled her wand above their heads. The air swirled around them so fast he didn’t hear the words to the spell she uttered. The world around them began to spin, and, as the colors mixed together, Rothe’s stomach flipped. His balance gone, nausea overwhelmed him. The only thing keeping him from falling was his arm around Anessa.

  Her eyes were closed, and she exuded a calmness he envied. As they spun together, he could feel the force of the movement trying to pull them apart. Using his good arm, he pulled himself to her tighter.

  It felt wrong to hold her this way. Even the gentle warmth
from her body irritated him. His arms longed for another, and he loathed himself for this betrayal. His life was supposed to be different.

  The world slowed down, and Rothe fell to the ground. The contents of his stomach forced their way out of him in a retching unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.

  Anessa patted him on the shoulder. “We’re here.”

  Rothe wiped his mouth and looked around. They were in a shadowed space between short stone walls. He propped himself up against one of the walls. “We are not there. I said to take me to the castle.”

  “Maybe if you had actually apologized I would have. Find your own way home.” Her glamour flickered, and he saw her blond locks and golden eyes. She raised her wand and vanished in the swirling wind.

  Rothe pulled his cloak up. At least she had dropped him off in a place where no one saw his arrival.

  “Persirengti.” His nose widened, his brow grew taller while the hair on top thinned. A cracking sounded when the jawbone grew more pointed, and his cheeks hollowed. The skin on his face wrinkled and sagged. His clothes aged to tatters. He grabbed his staff and walked out into the noisy street.

  Tendrils of music and laughter surrounded him. The village streets were lined with flowers and ribbons in celebration of the Princess’s marriage. Merchants tried to sell their tinkling trinkets as he passed by them without a second glance. A girl with blond braids ran in front of him, and he had to stop mid stride when she lost her shoe. She bent down to pick it up when an older woman grabbed her by the arm.

  “Excuse us, Sir.” The woman nodded at Rothe and dragged the girl away.

  A few minutes later and he was there, the castle. White rooftops sat on top of grey stone. Gold appeared to spring from the ground and grew along the walls like ivy. Gold had always been Adalyn’s favorite. Hopefully the silver color of the mirror wouldn’t displease her.

  He continued to walk toward the gates. When the spires towered over him, Rothe looked the guards in the eye. He resisted the temptation to straighten his back, and instead let his withered arm hang limp at his side. Gripping his plain staff, he acted like the old feeble man he appeared to be. He wanted nothing more than to show he wasn’t. Anessa’s tantrum had cost him days of healing.

  Forgetting Anessa, he noted the wedding celebration surrounding him. It was bigger than anything the Kingdom of Eventyr could remember. People from all over the forty-five kingdoms filled the courtyard. There was music, dancing, and much rejoicing for the princess’s good fortune.

  Rothe entered the throne room and skirted around the crowd filling the room. Food was piled high on gold plates, and drink spilled from matching goblets. A group of elves played instruments of pipes and strings in a corner.

  And then he saw them.

  The King and Queen in their golden chairs. The Queen’s beauty had increased during his years of banishment. Her raven colored hair was now graced with silver. Her skin was as flawless as a fresh snow. Her lips were as tempting as the finest wine.

  He stopped next to a tapestry and placed his hand on the wall behind him. Through the cold rough stone the familiar hum of his magic tensed, like a string on a harp ready to be plucked.

  “Fools,” he whispered. All of his enchantments remained on the castle. They’d banished him, but kept the work he’d done for them. He felt for his magic, and a smile spread across his lips.

  “Vrata odprta.” Blue light grew under his fingers on the stone.

  “What are you doing?” A guard ripped him away from the wall.

  The blue light disappeared as the guard dragged him in front of the King and Queen, who were speaking to the newlyweds. Karalius, the Elf King, stood next to his new bride who looked happy enough to fly away in her white dress made of feathers.

  “My King, this man was doing magic.”

  “I’m in the mood to be generous. Explain yourself. Magic is forbidden by all except the Grand Sorcerer.” The King pointed at a man in blue robes on the far side of the room.

  Rothe bowed. “Queen Adalyn, I bring a gift you asked from me long ago.”

  “A kindness, stranger, but I recall no such request.” Her words were a melody, a sound reserved for angels.

  “Borte.” His skin smoothed while the bones of his face reshaped. The tattered clothes melted into the finest fabrics. He wore the same robes he’d worn as the Grand Sorcerer of Eventyr. He stood in proud splendor before them.

  The crowd gasped in shock and backed away from him.

  “Guards!” the King shouted.

  "Nemokamai," Rothe said. Shrieks filled the air as the guards turned to stone.

  The King called for his sons, but the Queen stopped them with a shake of her head and stood.

  “Duris atidaryti.” Rothe pointed at the nearby wall where he had stood by the tapestry. Blue light swirled into the shape of a doorway. Using the enchantments in place, Rothe tapped his staff on the floor. The doorway opened a portal to his home in the Glass wood forest with less effort than he’d planned.

  “Ogledalo pridejo” The full length mirror appeared on the wall.

  The Queen took a step forward.

  "This man tried to kill you!" The King grasped for her hand.

  “And you tried to kill him.” She patted his shoulder gently before cautiously descending from her throne. She walked with Rothe to the mirror.

  "It's a lovely frame to be certain, Rothe. However, I fear it is broken. I see many colors here, but it doesn't appear to show a true reflection. I don't even see myself," she said.

  "It's truer than most." He chuckled.

  The Queen turned to Rothe, a puzzled look on her face. "I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “That last day in the tower. Don’t you remember what you wanted?”

  She thought for a few moments before speaking quietly. “A spell. To see the hearts of those around me, the feelings or intentions they have toward me. People always want me for something. I never know if it’s the Queen they want or me."

  Rothe flashed a tentative smile and nodded. He had imagined so many things for this moment. "I have spent each day of the last twenty years trying to make this mirror as restitution for what I did. I’m so sorry, Adalyn," he said.

  Her hand moved to her chest in astonishment. “All these years for me.” She smiled and placed her hand on his shoulder. “I forgive you, Rothe. The decades of banishment have been enough atonement.”

  Rothe heard her words, but the smile on his face only went skin deep. The void inside him needed one more thing to be filled. “Step close and have what you asked for.”

  As she moved near the mirror, Rothe, using his good hand, shoved her forward.

  She raised her arms and collided with the glass. Instead of shattering, the silver began crawling over her, inch by inch. Adalyn struggled to get free, but the mirror kept pulling her in.

  Her scream silenced before any sound could make it past her lips.

  The King ran to the mirror, drawing his sword to free her. As the blade swung down, light shot out from around the frame. The sword froze, mid strike, as a sizzling sound filled the air. The King let go of his weapon, clutching his raw blistered hand to his chest.

  He let out a cry of agony as the mirror swallowed the Queen whole. The surface rippled like a pond and then everything was still. Adalyn stood inside the mirror and slowly began fading away into an image of the castle.

  “What did you do?” The King demanded.

  Rothe’s laughter echoed around the room. “What she asked for.”

  “She didn’t ask for this!”

  “That day in my tower, before you forced me to flee for my life. She asked to see the hearts of those around her. Now she’ll see them forever.” Rothe turned to his creation and stroked the frame. “Mirror, Mirror, on the wall. True sight to the fairest of them all.”

  About the Author

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