Chapter 2

The future haunts with memories that I could never have

And hope is just a stranger wondering how it got so bad

- Love Song Requiem, Trading Yesterday

I run deeper into the woods, not bothering to look over my shoulder because I know he won’t be running after me. And besides that, I can’t stand to see him looking so alone.

The forest is really silent, just like always. Not a single animal inhabits the kingdom. Occasionally a few birds will fly overhead, but when the magical creatures were wiped out, the rest of the animals went with them. They depended on each other. But Donnell changed all of that.

My naked feet feel the pang of sticks and stones beneath them, but I keep running, almost immune to the pain now; I haven’t worn shoes in years. I push past the brush and overgrowth, and after about an hour, I find myself on the edge of the kingdom. The trees are marked with signs, warning us not to attempt to live Aondraio. They look threatening and foreboding with their large black letters and symbols on them, and I have no doubt that the consequences of being caught after trying flee are just as frightening.

Donnell keeps tabs on all of the citizens of his kingdom, and if one were to go missing, he’d be the first to know. He’d be the first to find them. And then kill them.

Such a funny little system he has… wanting desperately to find someone who belongs to him, and then taking their life a few moments later. I know a way to get around his system, though. If I really want to leave Aondraio, I will only do it for hours at a time.

I had been past the kingdom’s boundaries too many times for me to count. Most of them were visits to Ionor. But the others were my own personal endeavors, escapades to a world where I felt free and uncontrolled. I had made many an adventure in the three months that Carwyn was absent. I even dared to venture about a mile out. Somehow, everything seemed more beautiful when it wasn’t under Donnell’s rule.

I step past the looming signs, and immediately a white cottage materializes before my eyes. I smile. Magic; it never gets old. My feet find the mossy mat in front of the house, and I knock three times.

“Ionor!” I say quietly. “Ionor, it’s me!”

It takes only a few seconds before the door swings open and I’m face to face with an elderly woman with warm chocolate eyes that are welcoming me. “Come in my dear child!” She ushers me in with her cane, and I sit down in one of her calico chairs.

I’m at home here, basking in the heat of the fireplace and lounging in Ionor’s comfy chair. My eyes scan the room and I see many glass bottles and jars filled with unknown concoctions. I love to examine all of Ionor’s trinkets and potions, but she would scold me for calling them that. She calls them her work and work alone.

“I’ve missed you so!” she says excitedly while adding a few ingredients to the pot over the fire. The substance inside glows red for a moment before she sits down across from me, sweeping her gray hair back from her face.

“I’ve missed you too.” I say sadly. Belinda and I were allowed to live with Ionor up until the time we were 13. As soon as my 13^th birthday came, we were forced to move back into the kingdom and fend for ourselves. It was like being wrenched from the arms of our mother, we loved her so much. But I managed to find her again after wandering blindly through the forest one day.

I don’t know if Donnell has realized by now, but I have been coming to visit Ionor almost every month since that fateful year. I probably would have died without her, too. She taught me how to grow my own food and cook it as well. And best of all, she told me secrets and gave me advice.

She had requested my attendance today, and I believe it is one of those days for another secret.

“What have you been up to?” I ask, seeing as she doesn’t reply to my previous comment.

“Oh you know me. Just brewing up some of my work for the king.” My head shoots up immediately at the topic of conversation. Ionor isn’t one to be blunt. In fact, she beats around the bush so much that most would never understand her. But today is different. I feel my pulse race as I wait for her to continue, my breath bated.

“Cori,” she starts, using the nickname she gave me when I was a wee child, “I know you only have a few months left to live.” My eyes automatically sting with tears. Her candor is so much more intense than anything I’ve experienced. “I don’t know if I can give up on you that easily.”

“I’ve been trying…” My voice falters as I continue. “I don’t know how to get to him Ionor. I can’t plan a full-fledged attack because I don’t have anyone to join in my fight. I can’t very well just go sneaking into the castle either. There are more people against my cause than for it.”

“You don’t know that.” Ionor says, straitening up in her chair. She twists the large ring on her finger, and for a second I see it flash green, but then I realize my eyes must be playing tricks on me. “I’m sure you will find that there are multitudes of people willing to help you. If one person takes a stand…” Her speech trails off as she stares into the distance. I can’t help but wonder what she’s thinking in those strange little trances of hers. But she snaps back to reality before I can say a word.

“Enough talk about rebellion, though.” she says, still looking past me. “There’s a much faster way to kill the king.”

By heart beats in anticipation as Ionor gets up and shuffles to her kitchen cabinets, withdrawing from its contents a clear glass vial in the shape of a tear drop. She then walks to the fireplace and dips the container into the pot of blood-red liquid. For a moment I fear her fingers will burn, but she calmly extracts the potion without a single wince. She clasps the precious vile and corks it, and then she places it in my hand and folds my fingers over it one by one.

“Poison,” she mutters, and then kisses my fist, for good luck I suppose.

“And how do you expect me to slip poison into the king’s drink?” I ask, a small smirk on my face. Perhaps the old lady has finally lost her marbles.

“Not you!” she remarks, furrowing her eyebrows. “It is disguised as his monthly medicine, the kind only I can make for him.”

Ionor is the only magical being that Donnell kept alive and well. He realizes that her remedies are the only ones that can save his life and continue to heal him. There is always the court physician for minor sicknesses and injuries, but she keeps his stamina up in a way that no one else can. She is also the only magical being that he trusts.

“Oh, then you can give it to him.” I say, stretching out my hand and offering her the vial.

“Even if I do, he will have his servants test it.” I frown at her words. So much for trust. “He relies on me, but he always has his guard up.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” I ask, frustrated.

“Find someone who he trusts- someone who he will take the vial from and immediately drink.”

I huff and turn the small red tear drop around in my hand. Ionor is back to her old ways again. I knew the frankness wouldn’t last for long.

She soon ushers me out the door as she has more “work” to do. I kiss her goodbye on the cheek. I smile as I realize I’ll ever comprehend what’s going through that crazy mind of hers.

The walk back home is a long one, and my mind starts reeling through the day’s events. I instantly feel guilty about Carwyn, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s angry with me now. I wouldn’t blame him. I walk and watch the sunset at the same time, realizing how tired I am and how my brain isn’t working properly. I think about what Ionor said and how impossible her task might be. The king literally doesn’t trust anyone. I think about the tournament, and how a poor man had to die for another to gain love. And then my mind instantly flashes to the image of a giggling blonde and an infatuated king holding hands. Find someone who he trusts.

“Belinda!” I shout out loud, and then my feet take off like lightning. It may be a stab in the dark… Who knows? He might not even trust her completely yet. But there’s a feeling off hope that’s pulling me to rush forward. If he really is in love, if Belinda played her part well, then we just might have a chance to live.

 I forget every thought of tiredness and I let the wind carry me home.