Ginny Hartman Read online

  Rosalind's head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

  In her excitement, Gwendolyn went on her knees and grabbed Rosalind's arm excitedly, “You seem to be able to transport. It's a rare gift manifest in very few people. My grandfather had the gift, though it has never manifested itself in our family since then.”

  Rosalind's head was spinning. “What do you mean he could transport?”

  Millicent stood up and offered Rosalind a hand, helping her to stand as well. “Follow me,” she said as she turned and began walking. Rosalind followed her up the stairs to the minstrel's gallery where several busts where carved intricately into the corbels of the wooden ceiling above. Millicent stopped before a carving of an elderly man, his nose was large and straight and his lips were turned up into a silly grin. “This is Richard, my father. He also had the gift of transporting.”

  “Aye, you mentioned that already, but what exactly does it mean,” Rosalind asked impatiently.

  “It means he could travel from one location to another in the blink of an eye. A very curious gift to be sure, but it did come in handy on more than one occasion. Especially after he got used to how it all worked.”

  “Are you meaning to say that this gift, as you call it, is something I can learn to control?”

  “But of course,” Millicent confirmed. “My father learned to be so good at transporting that he rarely went anywhere without the use of his gift. My husband always joked that it was nothing more than the gift of laziness, but I think that secretly he was jealous.”

  “But why would I be given this gift? What could it mean?”

  “Honestly, I'm not sure. My understanding was that it was somehow passed down through bloodlines. My lineage is rich with people who could transport, though it seems to have gotten less and less common in the past several decades.”

  “But nobody in my family has ever been able to do it, at least not according to my knowledge. Terric seemed to think that maybe I only had these episodes because I was hungry or tired.”

  The mention of Terric made Millicent's eyebrows rise. “Odd that he didn't notice what was going on. Tell me, did you only have these episodes when Terric was around or had you experienced them at any other time?”

  Rosalind thought back to each time she saw the translucent wisps and back to the other times she had actually transported. Each time it had occurred, Terric had been nearby. “Yes,” she finally answered slowly, unsure of what it meant. “Except for this time, of course.”

  Millicent was thoughtful for a moment. “But we had been speaking of him and perhaps you were thinking of him as well?”

  Rosalind felt silly admitting that she had indeed been thinking of him. She'd feel foolish if they knew just how much she thought of him. She nodded her head in answer to avoid speaking.

  “What do you think it means, Mother?” Gwendolyn asked, just as curious as the rest of them.

  “I think,” Millicent started slowly, “that sometimes when two people come together, magical things can happen.” Rosalind blushed at the thought of the magical things that happened whenever Terric had held her, had kissed her. “Terric holds the gene, but for some reason his presence makes the gift manifest in you. Very curious. Unless of course, you have transporters in your family line that you are not aware of.”

  “I wish I had that gift,” Gwendolyn acknowledged with envy. “My only gift seems to be with healing, and it can't really be considered a gift when anyone can be taught the art. From now on, I'm no longer willing to teach you the healer's art. Tis hardly fair for you to possess two gifts.”

  “Now Gwendolyn, there will be none of that. Tis true that anyone can learn the healer's art, but not everyone who possesses the knowledge also has the gift to heal. You have talents of your own and would do well to remember that.”

  Gwendolyn harrumphed, but her pouting seemed more an act than genuine disgruntlement. Rosalind turned to her in an attempt to soothe her, “I would teach you how to transport if I could, but I hardly know how to do it myself.”

  Gwendolyn's eyes widened with curiosity, “Mother, do you think that's possible? Tis something I could learn to do?”

  Millicent was hesitant to answer, knowing what she had to say would not be what her daughter wanted to hear. “No dear, I do not. I used to beg my own father to teach me, and at times he tried, but it was to no avail. I think some people are born with that particular gift and others are not.”

  “But you said that it's hereditary. Why then does Rosalind possess it and not I? I come from a long line of transporters, not her.”

  “Aye, tis true that you do child, but Rosalind may as well.” Turning to Rosalind, Millicent asked, “Are you aware of any transporters in your family line?”

  “Nay, not one. I had never even heard of such a gift until now. I suppose that doesn't mean that they did not exist, but I was never made aware of them if they did.”

  “Not likely. I'm sure that if a royal family, such as yours, possessed it, they would be exceedingly glad and honored. I doubt it would have been kept a secret throughout the generations of time.”

  Millicent seemed to be very well versed in the knowledge of transporters and, now that the initial shock and embarrassment had worn off, Rosalind was curious to know more. “Can you teach me how to use my gift?” She asked, hopefully.

  “Aye, I can try. I can teach you what my father taught me, but I cannot guarantee it will work. You must remember that I am not a transporter myself and therefore I can only tell you what he told me. I have no personal experience with which to rely upon.”

  Shaking her head excitedly, she said, “I can't wait to begin.”

  Chapter 17

  Practice

  My sweet Rosalind,

  It has now been nearly a week since I left you in the care of my mother and sister. I hope that they are treating you with kindness, especially Gwendolyn since I know she can be a handful at times. I am grateful to King Hadrian for offering your family protection, but I cannot say that I enjoy being in Peltis. I am not overly fond of Malton Castle or its inhabitants. It's dark and dreary here and people are not overly disposed to friendliness. I think of you often here, of how you once told me that you wished the sun shone more frequently in Darth and how it enlivened you. I had never thought about it much until you said that, but now I think I agree. I wasn't aware of how much the sunshine bolstered my own mood until I have been forced to live without it.

  I must confess, however, that I don't think my dismal mood can be so much attributed to the lack of sunshine at Malton Castle as much as to your absence. In your presence I feel enlivened. I feel as if I am something more than I am, something better. I long to be in your presence once more and hope that fate will allow that to be.

  King Cedric and his family are safe, as is Colin, though he does not like the added security he is forced to abide with very much at all. I hope that problems can be solved quickly so that he can go back to life as normal, that he can resume being a carefree lad. I suppose life will never truly return to normal for him, but hopefully, he can find some semblance of normalcy eventually, as I hope you can as well.

  Terric

  ***

  Gwendolyn finished plaiting Rosalind's hair as they sat cross legged on her bed. The sun was struggling to break through the gray clouds painted across the sky. Tiny shards of light peaked through the windows and both girls’ spirits were high. “Let's go out to the garden and work on making the wisps appear. Mayhap the sunshine will bring us some luck this day.”

  Millicent had told Rosalind that the wisps seemed to be the key to her ability to transport. Neither of them was entirely sure what caused them to appear, and though Rosalind was doubtful it was the sun, she was just as excited as Gwendolyn to practice once more. “Aye, let's go.”

  The girls chased each other to the outer courtyard and beyond to where the herb garden lay, both of them laughing and twirling in what little sunshine had managed to make its way through the clouds. Gwendolyn plucked
a rosebud from the bush and tucked it behind Rosalind's ear before retrieving one for herself and doing the same. The air smelled fresh and alive. Gwendolyn grabbed Rosalind's hand and pulled her towards the path leading towards the vegetable garden where there was a patch of open field just beyond.

  As soon as they were out of hearing distance from the gardener, Gwendolyn dropped her hands. “Where do we begin?”

  “Your mother said that it's not likely that I'll be able to transport unless I can somehow reproduce the wisps.”

  “How do you do that?”

  “We aren't quite sure. I'm doubtful that I can just recreate them simply by thinking about them but your mother insists that the power can be learned.”

  “Well then, you must close your eyes and imagine they are here. If you think hard enough, mayhap they will materialize.”

  “That's what I've been trying to do, but I have yet to meet with any luck. She said that your grandfather, Richard, would think about his favorite foods to unlock his gift.”

  Gwendolyn giggled. “Truly? Tis an odd way to unlock one's power. But then again, Grandfather Richard did love his food. I suppose it's worth a try. Grabbing her hands once more, Gwendolyn said, “Close your eyes,” and patiently waited for Rosalind to comply. “Alright, now try to imagine what the wisps looked like the first time you saw them.”

  Rosalind thought back to the very first time she had seen the wisps. The day that she had been searching for cudworth berries in the woods was the first time she'd had experienced an episode, so she tried to recreate the feelings in her mind. She remembered vividly how the experience had left her dizzy and drained of strength. Clamping her eyes tightly shut, she tried to think how one would make themselves feel dizzy without spinning around in endless circles or some other foolish nonsense.

  Finally, when nothing seemed to happen, she opened her eyes. She shrugged her shoulders, “Nothing.”

  “I don't think you are trying hard enough. Mother says it can be done. So you imagined the wisps, but did you think of your favorite foods?”

  Rosalind looked at her doubtfully, “Do you sincerely believe that will work?”

  “It worked for my grandfather, why not?”

  Rosalind decided to humor her. With a shrug of her shoulders she spoke, “I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try. The worst thing that can happen is nothing at all.”

  “Precisely. Now close your eyes and try again.”

  Rosalind clamped her eyes shut tightly and began thinking about her favorite meal of roasted rabbit and boiled potatoes. It seemed ages since she had last eaten it and her mouth began to water at the memory. Becoming much too distracted, she finally opened her eyes.

  Gwendolyn was staring at her expectantly. “Well?”

  “Tis not going to work. It only served to make me ravenous. Perhaps we should go inside and fetch something to eat.”

  Gwendolyn rolled her eyes dramatically. “We are not going back inside until you've given it an honest try. The clouds could open up this very second, and a downpour ensue, and I would still refuse to let you go back.”

  Laughing, Rosalind pulled her hands out of Gwendolyn's grasp and laid on the grass beneath her. “What are you doing?” Gwendolyn asked, giving her a peculiar look.

  “I just remembered that some of the episodes occurred while I was lying down. Mayhap that is the key.”

  Gwendolyn shrugged. “I suppose it's worth a try. Tis good to see you are starting to take this practice seriously,” she gently scolded.

  Rosalind closed her eyes against the bright sky overhead and once more tried to make the wisps materialize. She imagined in her mind what the wisps looked like as they swirled towards her head, shimmering with iridescent colors, twisting and curling towards her in all their vibrant splendor. She could remember them so vividly, but no matter how well she recalled them, it did not make them appear. She even tried thinking about food and the wisps simultaneously but nothing changed. She knew that Gwendolyn was standing above her, watching impatiently. Deciding to perform for her rapt audience, she softly moaned as she lifted her hand and began feeling around the area directly in front of her face. She heard Gwendolyn suck in sharply, but otherwise she remained silent.

  She groaned even louder as she began twisting in the grass, “I think I see something,” she whispered dramatically.

  Gwendolyn dropped to her knees next to her, “Truly? This must be it!” she exclaimed excitedly.

  Rosalind couldn't help herself; she put her hand over her mouth and began giggling as her eyes opened to behold Gwendolyn. “Why are you breaking your concentration?” Gwendolyn asked.

  “I didn't see anything; I was leading you on.”

  Gwendolyn plopped back on the ground and huffed dejectedly. “Why did you tease me so? I was truly excited thinking you had finally figured out how to produce the wisps.”

  “I can't help it. No matter how much I want to force it to be, I can't do it. I'm beginning to think that this practicing is useless.”

  “You can't be ready to give up entirely already. We have only just begun practicing.”

  Rosalind got up from lying on the ground, brushing some twigs from her hair as she sat in front of Gwendolyn. “Mayhap I'm not dedicated enough to learning how to use it. Or mayhap it's one of those gifts that just occurs by chance and I'll never have control over it.”

  “Oh nonsense. Gifts aren't given to a person by chance. They are always given for a purpose, because there is a greater good that they can accomplish.”

  “A greater good?” she asked skeptically. “It didn't sound like your grandfather used his gift for a greater good, just to make his life easier. I've lived my entire ten and eight years without the ability to transport, so I'm fairly certain I can do so the remainder of my days.”

  Gwendolyn stood swiftly and immediately began walking back towards the house. “You're infuriating, Rosalind. Your gift is wasted on you.”

  Rosalind stood and chased after her. She felt contrite for seeming ungrateful for the unique ability bestowed upon her when she knew that Gwendolyn would have eagerly claimed the gift for herself but couldn't. Catching up to her, she placed a hand on her shoulder bringing Gwendolyn to a halt. “Please forgive me, Gwen. I didn't mean to seem ungrateful. I'm just frustrated that nothing I have tried seems to work. Please stay and help me a little while longer and I promise to cease my complaining.”

  Gwendolyn paused. Slowly she turned around, “I'm not going to force you to try, but I just can't imagine why you wouldn't want to learn how to do it; it seems so fun.”

  “I'm not entirely sure I would describe it as such. It leaves me feeling quite unlike myself.”

  “It only does that because it's new and you haven't fully tapped into your gift. Once you learn to use it and it becomes easier, you won't feel so drained.”

  “Is that how you felt when you first learned of your gift?”

  “My gift?” Gwendolyn asked, as if she had no idea to what Rosalind was referring.

  “As a healer,” Rosalind reminded her.

  “Oh that,” she said, as she waved one hand casually in front of her. “I wouldn't exactly call that a gift.”

  “But your mother has the gift, and she said that you do too.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “No, I don't believe I do. Mother is hopeful that I do because I have always enjoyed learning about herbs and plants, but mostly that started because I was interested in spending time with her. Don't get me wrong, I still enjoying learning and most of the knowledge truly fascinates me, but I wouldn't go so far as to say that I have the healer's gift. I have never had anything unusual occur or strange episodes that hint at a hidden gift. I've never even actually healed somebody before without my mother's assistance.”

  Rosalind could see that Gwendolyn's admission really bothered her. She stepped forth and pulled her into a hug. “Mayhap your gift isn't to be a healer. Perhaps there is something greater for you yet to discover.”

  Hugging her back, Gwendolyn said
, “Or mayhap I am just like the majority of people, common and ordinary with no special gifts, which is very well I suppose.”

  Pulling back, Rosalind looked into Gwendolyn's dark blue eyes, “You are much too special to be without a gift. If anyone deserves one, tis you.”

  “Thank you,” she replied quietly.

  Rosalind held her hand the entire way back to the castle, the practicing all but forgotten. She marveled at how much she had grown to care for Gwendolyn and Millicent. Though she had only been with them for a short time, she felt like she had known them forever. Part of her longed to stay tucked away at Emerson Castle with them indefinitely. It was easy to forget about the world that existed beyond the placid moat surrounding their home, easy to forget that her parents were dead and that she was now Queen of the Southwest, easy when she wasn't faced with constant reminders at every turn.

  Pondering about these things caused her to ask, “Do you think it will be long before they discover who is behind the attacks?”

  When Gwendolyn didn't answer immediately, Rosalind wondered if she had confused her with her sudden change of subject, but finally she answered. “Nay, not if Terric has anything to say about it. I know he won't rest until your parents’ deaths are avenged, until King Cedric is safe once more in his own kingdom. Terric is fiercely loyal to Darth.”

  “Aye, tis true. But he wouldn't do anything rash, would he? I mean, he would be careful to keep himself safe as well, wouldn't he?”

  Gwendolyn looked at her as if she were silly, “Of course he wouldn't purposely do anything rash. He's not stupid you know, but his own safety is not a priority. He will do whatever it takes to ensure Darth and King Cedric are kept safe.”

  Rosalind's face fell. She had foolishly hoped that Gwendolyn would reassure her that Terric would be safe. She hadn't been looking for a reminder of his loyalty and the dangerous position he willingly put himself in. “Oh,” was all she managed to say.