Towers Page 8

  “I will leave you then,” Romy turned to leave, but Frieda reached out and caught her in a death grip.

  Her eyes were pleading as she hoarsely asked, “You will look for that book? I will tell the servants you have access to anywhere in the palace.” Thomas looked ready to object, but Frieda stopped him. “No, Romy must find this book on—childbearing.”

  Thomas shook his head. “Nonsense. We have the best healers in the kingdom. We don’t need Romy’s talents.”

  Frieda wouldn’t let go of Romy’s arm. “Promise me.”

  Romy nodded. “I promise.”

  Thomas, not even part of the conversation, said in exasperation, “Oh, very well. Romy, please find whatever nonsensical book she needs to put her mind at rest. We can’t have my heir’s mother in such a dither all the time. If this is what will calm her, I will allow it.”

  “It will,” Frieda promised thankfully. “I will feel so much better.”

  Finally, she released Romy’s arm.

  Not wanting to waste any time, Romy turned and fled the royal dressing room. She knew that if she could find some time for herself, there was always a chance that she could use a locating spell. It was a long shot, but Romy knew that they needed to explore every avenue and not leave one stone uncovered.

  “I say,” Thomas called out to Romy as she rushed down the hall.

  “Yes?” Romy asked.

  When Thomas frowned, Romy added hastily, “Yes, Your Highness.”

  He beamed and went on as if nothing had happened. “I don’t want Frieda to be worried. This book, it isn’t something you have filled her head with?”

  Romy could hardly believe the nerve of the boy. How he had managed to win Frieda’s heart, Romy would never know.

  “No, Your Highness. I actually don’t even know what I am looking for. This is all her idea. If you would rather I leave...”

  As she trailed off, Thomas took a step forward, waving his hands. “No, no. We are thrilled you are here. I just want what is best for her. That is all.”

  Romy nodded stiffly and then curtsied. In all the years since Frieda had first tried to teach Romy, she never had quite mastered the move. However, at least she didn’t land on her face. This time when she left, Romy went as far away from everyone as she possibly could.

  She reasoned that something old and unused would likely be kept in the attics. The stairways were steep, and by the time Romy reached the attic steps she was dog tired. With effort she managed to climb the last set of stairs and open the attic door.

  “A child of the raven’s,” an old voice drawled. “How unusual.”

  “Who are you?” Romy called out, not seeing anyone else in the space.

  “Nobody of any importance,” the old voice responded. Romy couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from. It seemed to come from anywhere and nowhere at the same time.

  “Why are you here?” Romy tried again.

  “Where else would I be?”

  Romy stamped her foot. “This is getting us nowhere. If you have something to say, I suggest you do so. If not, I have things that need to be done.”

  Laughter filled the attic. “You are much like your mother, Romy.”

  It felt as if someone had walked across her grave. The hair on the back on her neck stood and goosebumps covered her flesh.

  “If this is a joke, I don’t find it funny.”

  “If this is a joke, Romy, you are in far more trouble than you could even imagine. Come along, we have work to do.”

  At this, a light appeared at the far end of the dark attic. Romy knew that only a fool would follow a creepy voice into the inky blackness of an abandoned attic. Sadly, she was just that sort of fool.

  Chapter 18

  “HOW DO YOU KNOW MY mother?’ Romy asked shakily as she walked into the darkest part of the attic.

  Instead of answering, a light flickered on and perched on a dusty antique chaise was a woman. Her image faded in and out of sight. Long black hair, that was every bit as wild as Romy’s, floated around her. Eyes that were pure white looked back at her.

  Romy fought the urge to run as fast and far as her uneven legs would carry her. Instead she straightened up to her full height and asked again, “Who are you?”

  “My name was Corbina, but no one has called me that in a long time. Sit child, there are things that I must tell you. Things you will need to know to finish your quest.”

  Corbina flicked her wrist and Romy felt her knees give as a high-backed wing chair from another century collided with them. She landed with a thump, puffs of dust causing her to sneeze.

  When she finally got her composure back, she exclaimed, “You’re magic!”

  Corbina smiled and for a moment seemed to become clearer. “When you leave your mortal body behind, you will take your gifts and talents with you to the next life.”

  “When were you, erm, alive?” Romy asked.

  “Not that long ago.” Corbina’s eyes became unfocused as if lost in a dream.

  “Corbina?” Romy asked.

  The woman snapped to attention. “Of course, please forgive me. Now, where was I?”

  “You said you knew my mother,” Romy prompted.

  The woman sat back. Her form flickered like a candle as she spoke. “Yes, Branwen was a lovely woman, much like yourself. She came from a land of rolling hills, craggy mountains, and breathtaking seaside. However, when she met your father, she left all of that behind. Despite their happiness, I think a part of Branwen always remained with the sea.”

  “I have never seen the sea,” Romy said quietly. “I don’t have any memory of my parents. My earliest memories are now clouded with what Papa has told me about the day he found me.”

  “Your Papa is a good man,” Corbina said. “The ravens chose your guardian well.”

  “The ravens? You speak as if you can communicate with them.”

  Corbina lifted a brow. “Can you not?”

  “Speak to birds?” Romy scoffed. “No. I wasn’t aware that anyone could speak with animals.”

  “You are a girl that can grow plants in the palm of your hand. Do not disregard something just because you haven’t seen it before. The world is filled with wonders that are yet to be discovered.”

  Chastened, Romy nodded. “You are right. Of course you are. I should know that.”

  Corbina smiled. “You remind me of your father as well.”

  “You knew him?” Romy’s tone was filled with wonder. “What was he like?”

  “Your father was my youngest brother. He looked a lot like you. He was quick to smile but had a sharp temper when vexed. His heart and soul belonged to your mother.”

  Romy’s head was reeling, and she fought to take in all the information. “What was his name?”

  “Ivan,” Corbina said affectionately. “We lived in the southern country surrounded by forests. You father went off on an expedition and was gone for nearly five years. He came back without the financial resources that we needed. Instead, he had promised to pay an exorbitant amount to the king of the ravens for your mother’s hand in marriage.”

  Romy shook her head in confusion. “Why would he need to pay a bride price to the king? Was he her father?”

  “No, he was her guardian.” Corbina leaned forward as if to tell Romy a secret. “Your father didn’t pick just anyone as he bride. Your mother was the only wielder of magic for the raven country. By setting the price so high, the king was trying to ensure that he would never get her.”

  “Then, how did he?” Romy asked. “How did my father come up with such a great sum of money?”

  “Oh, he didn’t. In fact, rather than face the king’s wrath, they both ran away in the night, with a promise to one day fulfill the bargain.”

  Romy stared. “That doesn’t sound very honest.”

  Corbina laughed. “I don’t suppose it was. When people are in love, they are known to do foolish things.”

  Romy grunted in agreement. After all, hadn’t she watched Frieda make all k
inds of ill-advised choices?

  “What happened next?” Romy asked. “Did the king come after them?”

  “The king was smart and cunning. He wasn’t a man to be cheated out of what he felt was his. Not only that, but he had a signed note from your father that the bride price would be paid. That, my dear, is where you enter the story.”

  “Me?” Romy replied blankly. “How did the king even know that I existed? Was he the reason why I was taken by the ravens? I don’t understand.”

  Corbina shook her head sadly. “The king didn’t know you existed, child. Think!”

  The way Corbina had called her child reminded Romy of Papa. A wave of longing to be wrapped in his arms overtook Romy. She was suddenly weary and feeling very tired and very young.

  “I will tell you this, Romy,” Corbina continued. “Your father is from the ravens, just like you are.”

  “What? He was taken by ravens too?”

  Corbina shook her head. “You aren’t listening, Romy. Learn more about the raven country. Find out where you came from.”

  “But how can I find them?” Romy asked. “I don’t have any idea where the ravens come from.”

  “Maybe you know someone who can help you?” Corbina said softly.

  Her image began to fade in and out.

  “Wait! Why did the ravens take me from my parents?” Romy pleaded with Corbina. “Why would they be so cruel?”

  “I cannot tell you,” Corbina replied.

  The frustration that Romy felt was apparent in her pleading. “At least tell me who the king was.”

  Corbina smiled. “Ah, now that is an excellent question. I suppose it deserves an answer.”

  The light sparked, and Corbina faded until she was barely visible.

  “Wait!” Romy called out in fear. “You can’t leave now. I don’t know the rest of the story.”

  “You are the rest of the story, Romy. You already know where it went. What you need to search for is how it began. We will meet again when you need me.” And then she was gone.

  Romy stared at the empty chaise where Corbina at sat only moments before. The moment had been so completely surreal that Romy was almost worried it hadn’t happened. Perhaps she was losing her mind?

  Her eyes narrowed and she looked at the shelf next to the chaise. On the ledge was a small brown book. Romy knew that it most likely wasn’t anything. However, after all of the odd things that had happened that day, she wanted to look just in case.

  The book was heavy for as small as it appeared. It was obviously old and more than a bit dusty. Romy wiped away the layers of dust and saw the small engraving in the lower right-hand corner—Branwen.

  With shaky fingers, Romy opened the cover and began to read. It appeared to be something of a journal, but there were spells and incantations scribbled into the sidelines. Romy read and read until day had passed to night. The flickering light hadn’t even bothered her. The only reason she finally stopped was that the rumbles of her stomach were getting too loud to ignore.

  Romy could hardly believe she could now put a name to her mother. Instead of being some ambiguous figure, Romy knew her name. She knew Branwen’s favorite color, or colors, since Branwen loved the shades of the sunset. Romy had learned her mother was good at sewing, but terrible at arts and crafts.

  For once in her life, Romy’s mother wasn’t just a blank canvas. She was a woman with hopes and dreams. Branwen never knew her mother; she had died in childbirth. Branwen wrote that she never did learn who was her father. In another way, just like Romy. Branwen had been someone who longed for love and friendship, much like Romy had all those years ago.

  Only Romy had Frieda. She truly had never been alone. Papa had always been her constant companion until Romy met Frieda. Romy turned the pages to find out that Branwen had grown up in the palace after she was orphaned. More specifically, Branwen had been placed in the servant’s quarters.

  What an odd existence it must have been. She wasn’t part of the royal family, but neither was she a servant. They called upon her when magic was needed and sent her away when it wasn’t.

  No wonder she had fallen in love and ran away.

  Out of nowhere, an image of Einar flashed into Romy’s mind. He was laughing at something Papa was telling him, the moonlight shining on his handsome face. They were on the cottage porch and studying the sky.

  In another instant it was gone. Just thinking of Einar had her wishing that he were near to spar with. When had it become more pleasurable to argue with Einar than it had to speak with nearly anyone else?

  Rather curious—wasn’t it?

  Chapter 19

  “DO YOU KNOW I’VE NEVER been up here before?”

  The way Thomas was holding himself rigidly, it was clear that he would rather have never experienced the castle’s attics.

  “I think all of this dust is bad for the baby, dearest,” he went on to say. “You have been coming up here every day for near on two months.”

  Frieda, perched on the same chaise that Corbina had occupied all those weeks ago, dismissed Thomas with a wave. “You don’t need to come up here, Thomas.”

  He grumbled something under his breath, indicating that nobody should be up there, but neither girl was paying him any attention.

  “Romy,” Frieda said excitedly. “Look at this!”

  Romy looked over to see that Frieda had found a folded parchment inside of an old book. Setting aside her mother’s diary that she had now read dozens of times. Romy stood and took the folded piece of paper.

  As she opened each fold, it became apparent that she was holding a map.

  “Clearly this is all garbage,” Thomas grumbled.

  “I think you father was calling you,” Frieda fibbed.

  Thomas brightened considerably. “I will just pop off to see what he needs. You are perfectly alright if I leave you for a few moments?”

  “Yes!” Frieda’s reply was just shy of rude. It was a good thing that Thomas was so thickheaded he would never dream that his wife might not want his presence. Actually, Thomas felt that everyone’s lives were better for his presence.

  Thankfully, he went to the door and began to descend the stairs.

  “Frieda,” Romy said quietly. “This map shows all of the kingdoms.”

  Frieda clapped her hands together silently and whispered, “Does it have the land of the ravens?”

  Romy moved to the chaise and sat beside her. Then with a shaky finger she showed Frieda right where the southern kingdom resided with the symbol of a large black bird. If her calculations were right, it wasn’t close enough to get there in a day or two.

  “And look,” Frieda exclaimed, pointing to the top of the map. “This has to be where you mother is from. Romy, do you suppose that if we solve this mystery, we really can break the curse on my baby?”

  That indeed was the question of the hour. The girls had talked at length about Corbina’s appearance to Romy. They had decided that it all had to be tied together somehow. The only problem was that Frieda was now starting to show. In four and a half months’ time, this baby would be born.

  They both came to the realization that Romy couldn’t visit both kingdoms and still make it back to be there when the baby would be born.

  “Frieda, I...” Romy wasn’t even sure what she should say. On one hand, perhaps finding her past would help to find a way to break the curse. But that didn’t matter if Romy wasn’t there when the baby was born.

  Having magic, Romy was the one person that couldn’t be adversely affected by the curse—Leon happened to be another. Sadly, they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him or his family. It seemed as if the day he set that terrible curse he disappeared off the face of the earth.

  “I will do whatever you want me to do,” Romy said at last.

  “I can’t ask you to stay when you finally know where you came from.”

  Romy wrapped her good arm around Frieda, and they snuggled into each other.

  “Ugh.” Frieda rubbed a spot low o
n her belly.

  “What is it?” Romy asked.

  “Who knows. I have had some twinges these past few weeks is all.”

  Romy put her hand on Frieda’s small bump. A moment later she felt a small movement underneath her hand. With wide eyes she returned Frieda’s hesitant gaze.

  “That is your baby, Frieda.”

  Tears filled Frieda’s eyes. “My baby that I will never be able to hold.”

  “No!” Romy shook her head. “Please, don’t think like that. I promise you: I will never stop searching for a way to break this curse, Frieda. We will find a way. I promise.”

  Frieda nodded sadly, but the tears fell down her cheeks anyway.

  “I won’t go,” Romy said with determination. “I will have plenty of time to figure out my past after we have sorted out your future.”

  “I don’t deserve you, Romy,” Frieda said through her tears. “You can’t put your life on hold for me.”

  Romy hugged her tight. “Do you know the real reason we became friends?”

  Frieda wrinkled her nose. “Because I hid in the woods that night?”

  Shaking her head, Romy said, “I was lonely, terribly lonely. Papa told me to go out on the porch and wish on a star.”

  Frieda smiled faintly. “Your Papa says that all the time.”

  “Doesn’t he?” Romy added. “Anyhow, I wished really hard. I said a prayer and begged anyone who was listening to send me a friend. And then I found you crying in the woods. Frieda, you saved me all of those years ago. You helped me see that I was so much more than what others thought of me. You taught me how to love myself when I was positive, I was utterly unlovable.”

  “You are utterly lovable,” Frieda said with a choked laugh.

  “Don’t interrupt,” Romy admonished with a smile. “I am getting to the good part. I will stay with you until the baby is born. Maybe we will find a way to break the curse before the baby comes. But, if we don’t, I will be here to make sure that everyone is safe. Let me do this, Frieda. Let me save you.”