Res, Pt. 2
Alison
Alison tried to catch Nolwynn up on the situation with the dam, but Nolwynn was already aware: her people had spotted the construction of the demonstration dam on a different stream to the west of the manor.
She agreed to send some of her people to help “liven up” the demonstration a bit. “I’ll watch from a distance,” she said. “My last encounter with the king was…tense. I don’t want to draw his ire again.”
Alison advised that everyone should keep their distance. “We need him to believe that the dam has failed because of its own design, not because of magic.”
With a plan in place, Alison bid farewell to Nolwynn and headed back into Fossholm to meet Keir, following a path the korrigans showed her that avoided the worst of the climbing and bouldering.
He was there at the stables already when she arrived. “They’re settling in nicely according to the staff, off on a tour of the grounds by the time I got there. My father wasn’t home—he’s on his way back from Sudport with most of the royal staff and attendants. They’ll get here just before the king and princess fly in. Alison, what’s wrong?”
She had known she wouldn’t be able to hide her feelings from him—he was far too perceptive. “Come,” she said. “Let’s talk while we ride.”
Alison led them, urging her horse forward as fast as she could handle. She debated what to say to him and how to say it. Would it be better to let him see Charlotte for himself?
No, she decided. She’d tell him herself once they reached her cottage to give him time to come to terms with it so he could meet Charlotte on even footing.
They rode as quickly as they could back into Herot’s Hollow, crossing the river at the bridge south of town to avoid most of their neighbors and traffic. Keir was terribly worried, but he trusted her enough to allow himself to be led.
From the gate, Alison could see that the cottage and the gardens had been visited, likely by Gwenla and Brytak, in her absence. She would thank them later. There were more important things at hand.
“Do you remember when I told you that it felt like I came up for air at the end of our time in the vine’s world?” she asked him once they were inside. “And that I felt it again when I was looking at the falls when we came into town.”
“Yes,” he said. “I remember. I suppose it was a path back to normalcy, back from the experience of being someone else into your own skin.”
“Keir, it was real,” she said. “I…met her. Just now. She survived.”
Alison took his hand and led him to the couch.
“Who are you talking about?” he asked. His expression, the tone of his voice. He was so much like Charlotte it brought tears to Alison’s eyes.
“Danny,” said Alison. “Her name is Charlotte now. The korrigans saved her. She’s been with them all this time.”
“I don’t understand,” said Keir. “Alison, did the korrigans do something to you? Danny died. I saw it myself. We searched the river and the lake beyond for hours. Days. He was a child. He couldn’t have survived long on his own.”
“She wasn’t on her own. The korrigans save people from drowning. They saved her. They helped her become who she had always been. Charlotte. Your sister.”
Keir froze. In the memories Alison had shared with Charlotte, there had been signs of who she was, signs she was sure Keir had noticed as well. “You met someone who claimed to be my sister?”
“No, Keir,” she said gently. “I met your sister. She’s alive.” The tears fell down Alison’s cheeks.
Alison watched the thoughts cross Keir’s face. Disbelief, anger, doubt. Concern for Alison—had they done something to her? Was this some effect of the magic still confusing her mind and making her say things to hurt him?
“Alison, I believe that you believe what you’re saying is true. I know you wouldn’t lie to me, and especially not about this. But I don’t think I can believe it until I see her for myself.”
Alison nodded. “She’s coming here. That’s why I wanted to get back here so quickly. She’ll be at your house soon.”
Keir sat back, rubbing his jaw and staring off into the distance, deep in thought.
“She didn’t believe me either,” said Alison. “She thought…she thought you were like your father. That you hated her. All the times you took the blame, she thought that’s how you really felt.”
His eyes were haunted when they met Alison’s again. Some part of him was beginning to believe it. “What did you say to her? How did you convince her to come here?”
“I showed her,” said Alison. “My memories of you and what you’d told me about her, what happened to us with the vine. Nolwynn showed me how.”
Alison felt around using that extra sense, but she couldn’t find the door anymore. “I don’t think I can do it on my own, or I’d show you myself.”
“That’s alright,” he said. “I don’t need to see into your private thoughts. I’ll go and meet her, this woman who claims to be my sister. And then I guess I’ll know.”
Charlotte wasn’t there yet when they arrived at Keir’s house. Alison privately began to worry she wouldn’t show at all as she fetched the water and put the kettle on.
It had just begun to boil when there was a knock at the door.
Alison hurried into the front room in time to see Keir standing there, deciding whether or not to open it.
She gave him a moment.
He shook his head and reached for the handle.
On the other side, with a small golden bag draped over her shoulder, stood Charlotte.
“Keir?” she asked, her voice high and strained with emotion.
Alison held her breath as she waited for Keir’s response.
He said nothing.
Instead, he took Charlotte into his arms, clutching her to him, his body heaving with sobs.
Alison felt the tears start again.
“Charlotte,” she heard him whisper. “You’re home.”
After a nice—if somewhat awkward—tea, Alison left Keir and Charlotte to catch up on their own, returning to her cottage to get some chores done before heading back into Fossholm for the royal arrival the next day.
She tried once more to wield her magic around the house. And it worked, sort of. She couldn’t manage to remove the mold from the strawberry cake in the icebox—a devastating loss—and she couldn’t get the dust she swept up to disappear, but she was able to get the broom to move around the floor on its own.
A little.
She sighed. Knowing where her power came from was a step forward, but she was still a long way from being able to consistently control it, at least without Keir around for the connection between them and his guidance on how the old magic worked.
And without the pressure of a life-or-death situation to motivate her.
After tending to the vegetable garden the next morning, unfortunately without the aid of magic, she stopped by Keir’s on the way to Fossholm. She knew he had little interest in seeing the royals arrive, not when his father would be among their entourage.
“Charlotte’s still asleep,” he told her when he met her at the door. “We stayed up late talking. I think she’s going to stay here for a while. With our father around much more than usual this summer, she wants to steer clear so he doesn’t see her.”
“Of course,” said Alison. “Are you still coming to the festival tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said.
He hugged Alison tightly when it was time for her to leave. “Thank you for bringing her back to me.”
He looked so content as she left it brought tears to her eyes once more. To finally know peace after all that time—it was everything she’d ever wanted for him.
Alison headed next to Gwenla’s house so that they could walk over together. She found her in an argument with Willow over Willow’s attendance.
“Gwenla thinks I need to stay here because dragons eat cats,” said Willow. “You’ve met a dragon. Did he eat any cats in your presence?”
“Not that I can remember,” said Alison, not wanting to pick a side. “It’s a long way to walk down to Fossholm though. Are you sure you want to go down there?”
“Oh, fine,” said Willow. “I’ll just stay here and nap then.”
“We’ll be back in the evening. If we’re late, Keir’s sticking around. He can feed you and Dinah,” said Alison.
“Keir isn’t coming?” asked Gwenla.
Alison explained to Gwenla what had happened with Charlotte as they made their way from the stables.
“It’s wonderful,” said Gwenla. “I have half a mind to say forget about the royals; our sweet Charlotte has come home!”
“Let’s give them a bit of time together,” said Alison. “They have a lot to make up for.”
“Of course you’re right,” said Gwenla. “But I can’t wait to see her again. She was so mischievous, so wild, so clever. I can’t believe she’s been right down the road all this time.”
The stables at Fossholm were entirely full, so Alison and Gwenla were forced to leave their horses at a new hitching post in the high street. It seemed the entire population of the Hill Country had come to greet the royal family, and most of the nobles had already arrived or were arriving. The streets were full of well-dressed elves and humans, many of them wearing red to honor the king.
Gwenla and Alison followed the crowd to the lawns of Weldan House. Some filtered in behind the barricades lining the drive, while others headed to the stands that had been erected on the hillside. Down by the river, a white tent had been raised for the court. Alison had not been invited to join them for this occasion, not that she would have in Keir’s absence anyway.
Gwenla spotted a group from Herot’s Hollow in the stands, and she and Alison went over to join them.
It was most of the town aside from Keir and Weyland: Lady Sibba, Duncan Corbett, Nigel Smalls, Strelka, Brytak, and even Alison’s fairy neighbor Aras and his adult children, Mezec and Lydiach.
“I met your friend Rinka yesterday,” said Lydiach. “Sorry, I mean the Lady Rinka of Paistos.”
The fairy was a tailor, and she explained that she had been brought in to make a dozen new dresses and outfits for Rinka within the week. “The tailor in Fossholm was overwhelmed with making an entire new wardrobe for the prince. Apparently, they lost all of their things in the pirate attack on the ferry.”
“Yes, I heard about that,” said Alison. She didn’t mention that Rinka’s trunk had already made its way to her cottage in case someone were to overhear her. “They were very fortunate to survive.”
Lydiach winked a tiny eye at Alison, who nodded her appreciation for her discretion.
A set of trumpets began to sound from somewhere in the distance.
The crowd hushed. There were voices shouting military orders from up the drive in Fossholm, the tinny sounds of a band playing from far away and the clearer sounds of drums reaching them long before they could see the procession that had begun.
The parade that followed was as elaborate as any Alison had seen in Arcas Dyrne. There were marching bands and military regiments, their officers riding behind on horseback; troupes of dancers and choirs of elves; dwarves arriving in horse-drawn carriages with geometric filigree; and, at the very end, a single motor carriage, the first that most in Wilderise had ever seen.
“It’s the duke,” someone in the crowd said. “Our Lord Ainsley arriving in style!”
Alison snorted. Trust the duke to arrive in the most expensive and impractical fashion he could manage. How would he even begin to maintain such a vehicle in this part of the world?
The procession looped along the drive and returned to march up the river as the crowd cheered.
“Lords and ladies, gentlemen and gentlewomen, people of the Hill Country and beyond. Rise for the arrival of your king,” yelled a man in a red uniform who stood between the stands and the tent.
No one had been seated, at least not in the stands with the commoners. The nobles began to file out of their tent as those from the procession joined them. Alison spotted Rinka with Idris at the very front of the crowd.
They were holding hands.
“Aww,” said Gwenla. “Aren’t they sweet together?”
“Shh,” said Alison. “We’re not supposed to know her.”
The trumpets flared again. Alison watched as Rinka pointed into the distance. Strelka and Brytak, both orcs themselves, pointed too. “There they are!” said Strelka.
The royal family had arrived.