When he connected with the willow, he had sensed the presence of something ancient and magical deep within it. It was willing to share its magical properties. Why it chose him, he wasn’t sure. He used bits of the bark when he forged the steel, as well as using his own bit of magic to infuse within it. He didn’t really understand how it worked, only that it did.
He’d made three blades. One for himself, one for the king, and one for an elven noble passing through town. He said it was a gift for his son and he wanted it to give him strength, courage, and confidence. Roderick hadn’t heard from the elven noble since then, but he hoped the blade had done just that for his son.
Now, the willow’s branches swished.
The Queen of the Mystic Vale is not the rightful ruler,it said.
“How do you know this?” he asked.
There is unrest throughout nature, especially in the Wyldwood Forest. Unrest I do not understand.
Roderick remained where he was, his hand against the trunk as he considered the tree’s words.
“Should I not enchant the blade?”
Another pause, then,You should, but chose your recipient wisely, dear one, for all is not what it seems.
Cryptic words from the ancient willow. His brows drew together in question.
“What does that mean?”
You will have your answer when the time comes. Now, go forth and forge your blade.
“Thank you, ancient one,” he said.
He took the dagger, which he’d strapped to his side, and scraped a bit of the bark from the trunk, placing the shards in a small wood container to keep it safe. He bid farewell to the willow tree and returned to his forge where he began to work.
Roderick spent long hours in his forge working on the blade. He mixed the bark shavings within the steel when he placed it in the fire, heating it up and then placing it on the anvil to hammer it into the shape of the long, straight blade of the dagger. Since the queen’s messenger didn’t specify what type of dagger, he decided to make it into one best used for thrusting and stabbing.
When he finished the blade, it shimmered with the rainbowlike steel mimicking that of the bark from the willow tree. When the light caught it, it had a sort of iridescent glow. He finished the handle in a barrel shape, making it rounded and perfect for the palm. Now that the blade was complete, it was time to pack his saddle bags for the long journey north.
Chapter 15
Snowspentmostofthe days and nights locked in her room. By choice.
Yirrie was determined to keep her safe and out of the forest. But what the elven woman didn’t know was that she was beginning to lose her strength from not being part of nature. Connecting with the forest gave her the strength, fueled her energy. Without it was like living without food and water.
She had grown weaker and weaker as the days passed. Her mood plummeted without seeing the sun light her window.
Yirrie tried on more than one occasion to coax her out of her room. Tried to get her to return to festival for the remaining nights. But Snow wasn’t having it. She was not interested in joining any of the festivities. Even Elator tried to persuade her to return to festival by suggesting Ardan had been asking about her. She did not want to see Ardan and his adoring looks again.
Finally, only when festival was all over, all of the couples made their intentions known, and things returned to normal did Snow crack open her bedroom door and peer out.
Yirrie and Elator had retired for the night. The house was silent and dark. And though the moon was no longer full, Snow needed to slip into the forest where she would find solace and strength and renewed life.
Of course, it would be difficult to sneak away from the house with someone watching the door as Yirrie had mentioned. But perhaps that was over now that she was sequestered for days on end. She’d proven to Yirrie she wasn’t leaving.
She crept from her bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her. She made her bed look as though she were sleeping buried under the blankets. The window was still boarded up, so it kept the room plunged in total darkness. If Yirrie or Elator looked inside, all they would see was a rounded shape on the bed and nothing more.
It was her one chance to slip out unnoticed. Now that festival was over, she would have a better chance at that.
But first, before she returned to the forest, she had a stop to make.
Rather than dress in one of her usual gowns, she opted for the pants, tunic, and vest combination. Her hair was pulled back and tied with a leather thong. She carried her boots so as not to make any unusual noise as she tiptoed to the front door in her stocking feet.
At the front door, with her heart ramming against her chest, she twisted the knob. Holding her breath, she pulled open the door thankful for the silent hinges and stepped into the night.
She stood a moment on the stoop and her head tipped upward into the slight evening breeze, inhaling the damp scents of the world around her. It had rained recently somewhere deep within the world. She sensed the wild earthy smell on the wind and smiled.
