Azurite (Daughter of the Mountain Book 1) (7 page)

For the past three years, after the nightmare that left her scarred, Zora had been plagued by night terrors that destroyed her sleep.  She grew and experimented with dozens of plants trying to discover one that would calm her mind and help her rest, but she was yet to be successful.  That’s what she was growing the jimson weed for.  It was just another experiment.

The young woman tended to her garden for the remainder of the afternoon.  She ran her hand through the dark, moist soil noting how much healthier it had become.  She burrowed a small hole in the dirt with her fingers then dug into her rucksack to find the wildflower seeds she’d taken from the greenhouse.  Gently she dropped the seeds into the earth and covered them securely, excited about the thought of having clusters of rainbow colored wildflowers soon growing in her garden. 

Zora continued to caress the soil and bent down to blow on the new seedling as if that would make it grow faster.  To her dismay, a single green sprout burst through the earth and began budding indigo blue leaves.  Zora stared in amazement at the little flower as it trembled slightly in the wind.  She then grabbed her water skin from her rucksack and watered around the newly planted seeds knowing that by tomorrow, she’d have rows of gorgeous wildflowers.

When Zora was done for the day, her rucksack was bulging with so many herbs, flowers, and fruits, that she was forced to carry all her books in her arms.  Feeling accomplished with everything she’d done that day, Zora began her long, arduous journey back to Mizra by forest, thereby avoiding the deep darkness of the mines.

***

Milo, Zora’s tutor, paced nervously back and forth in Mizra’s greenhouse as he watched the sun slowly dip behind the mountains.  He had been waiting for Zora’s arrival from the mines for several hours, and for her to not show up was extremely uncharacteristic. 

What if something happened to her?
 

A knot began to tighten in Milo’s stomach as he thought about Zora walking through the mines alone, falling into the emptiness of an endless abyss or drowning in the gushing springs that flowed over serrated mountain rock.  He never agreed with her traveling down there without any sunlight, map, or landmark to guide her footsteps, but she did so without fear or hesitation.

Let me check the library one last time to see if she’s returned,
Milo thought frantically.
  If not, I’ll have to alert a blasted search party!

The tutor made his way as quickly as he could over to the library.  When he peeked his head inside the doorway, he saw Zora asleep at the writing desk with her arms folded on the table and her head nestled on top of them.  The tome he’d given her, her journal, and several loose papers covered the desk completely.  The fire coming from the hearth cast an amber glow in the room that made Zora’s platinum blonde hair appear golden in color. 

As the old man approached, he realized that Zora’s seemingly peaceful slumber was not so peaceful after all.  Her eyes rolled uncontrollably under closed lids, and her body quivered disconcertingly as she mumbled gibberish to herself.

“Lady Zora, I’m afraid you’ve fallen asleep in the library,” Milo whispered.  He shook the young woman to rouse her.

“Zora,” he whispered again, receiving no reaction.  He shook her again, harder, and Zora just groaned in response.  Milo bit his lip, stumped, and looked around.  An empty teacup sat next to the young woman, so he picked it up and saw the remains of black seeds sitting at the bottom of it.  Milo swirled them around with his finger then looked back at Zora.

“C’mon, child,” Milo said as he wrapped his arm around Zora’s waist and lifted her out of the chair till she was standing.  “We’ll get you to bed, how does that sound?”

Zora’s head lolled languidly to one side as her hair fell over her face, and she moaned again.  As Milo bent down to pick her up in his arms, her body went suddenly rigid.  Her head sprang up, and her eyes shot open causing Milo to yelp in surprise.

The pounding in his chest hastened because staring back at him was Zora, with the most vapid expression he’d ever seen.  Her blue eyes were dark and lifeless and bored through him as though she didn’t even see him.  Her face was pale, and her lips were dry and blue.  She was shaking uncontrollably.

“Zora?  Are you well?”  Milo asked cautiously, taking a step towards her.  Suddenly, the girl’s vacant eyes focused on him sending shivers through his spine.  A word came out of her lips in a monotone voice.

“Liar,” she accused him before collapsing into his arms, unconscious. 

Milo gasped as he tried to keep himself from falling to the ground from her sudden weight.  After a few seconds, he was able to anchor himself and hoist a lifeless Zora over his shoulder.  He was breathing heavily and unable to comprehend what had just happened.  He clenched his jaw in frustration and began his trek to Zora’s bed chamber with hopes that she’d sleep off whatever nightmares were haunting her.  He left his wooden cane leaning against the library door and didn’t go back for it.

Chapter 4

Zora dreamed restlessly that night.  It was as if her mind was separated from her body, and she was looking through a window, able to see everything that was happening to her but unable to do anything about it.  Initially, the young woman dreamed of being carried up a spiraling staircase by two strong arms.  She’d never felt so protected.  She watched as her body moved like a puppet in her bedchamber, throwing all the contents of her rucksack into the boiling caldron that hung over her hearth.  She bent over the pot to watch the hissing and popping of the water. 

Suddenly, the churning bubbles coalesced and turned into a massive underground lake in the Anion caverns that Zora had never seen before.  She wasn’t in her room any longer, but was floating in the lake.  She could feel the water’s cool touch on her bare skin.  Queen Evangeline stood on the side of the lake watching her with hateful eyes, along with a man she didn’t recognize, but his face was kind and gentle.  Another person stood between the Queen and the stranger, and his face was covered in shadow.

              Then the clear water of the lake was gone, replaced by a toxic steaming tar pit that was so heavy, she couldn’t move.  A deafening fire roared around her and ash rained down from the sky.  The heat and smoke of the colossal blaze burned her skin, throat, and eyes until she couldn’t see or breath.  Zora cried out for help, screaming at the top of her lungs for someone to save her lest she burn alive in the tar pit. 

Evangeline and the man watched emotionless and unflinching from the sidelines as flame overtook her.  The shadow person, however, bent over the side of the lake and offered her a hand.  Zora felt relief spread through her as she eagerly took it and was lifted out of the fiery pit and into safety.  When her feet were firmly on the ground, she looked around and realized that she was alone.  The shadow person had disappeared, and the bodies of her mother and the nameless man bobbed lifeless in the lake of flame.

***

“Psssst,” a voice jeered in the darkness accompanied by a firm shove.  “Zora.”

The young woman’s body tensed at the unexpected jolt.  She remained still, refusing to answer the persistent voice that appeared only in her sleep.  The voice faded, and a deep silence permeated the blackness of her unconscious world.  There was another firm shove.  She tried to disregard it, but it wouldn’t stop.

”Zora Winnser!  If you don’t wake up right this second, I’ll have you down in the kitchens scrubbing pots till your hands look like raisins.  I don’t care whose daughter you are!” 

Zora opened her eyes half way, sleepiness still hanging heavily on the lashes.  Shadowy daylight flashed blindingly around her as it filtered through the windows; a sharp contrast to the darkness of her dreams.  A tall figure hovered over her stiff frame, casting a gray silhouette across the mattress.  Zora felt her muscles tighten with anxiety, unable to discern through her blurred vision who or what stood next to the bed.  The figure moved hastily away, taking its shadow with it. 

“Took you long enough,” the shape scolded.  “Why, it’s nearly noon.”  The dreary daylight dimmed then brightened when the figure walked in front of the open windows.

“I really don’t understand you, staying up into the wee hours of the night only to find you fast asleep at noontime.  It isn’t natural.”  There was a disapproving snort. 

Arianna Fairchild, Zora’s maidservant, walked briskly to the other side of the room watching Zora out of the corner of her eye.  The graying daylight poured across the Zora’s face as she sat slowly up in bed, trying her limbs cautiously as if she had never used them before. Arianna noticed Zora wince at the faint brightness of day, dropping her eyelids and bringing her hand across her face to shield it from the light.

              “Arianna?” Zora whispered as she watched the maidservant’s slender form come into focus.  She was leaning outside the window now, scrutinizing the gathering storm clouds above.

“Well, looks like it’s going to storm today. 
Again
,” Arianna said bleakly.  “I thought these blasted monsoons were done with!”  She leaned further out of the window trying to get a better view of the oncoming downpour and felt light sprinkles wet her nose.  “I wouldn’t entertain the thought of studying in the gardens today if I were you, Zora.  Will be nothing but mud.  A’course I’m sure Milo wouldn’t have a problem with it, but you on the other hand shouldn’t be seen doing such things.”
                Arianna quickly checked the wooden shutters locked against the wall to make sure they were in well enough repair to block out the wind and rain.  Zora rarely slept with the windows of her tower closed off.  In the east, a faint flicker of lightning illuminated the city rooftops followed by a soft roll of thunder.  The afternoon daylight was swiftly fading. 
              Arianna has been Zora’s maidservant for several years now, although the servant was only a couple of years older than the noble.  Arianna claimed she could remember nothing of her family or where she lived before Alumhy and stood strongly by the story that she was taken off of the streets as a child and adopted into royal servitude.  Arianna always said being a court servant paid better than most jobs, and she always had a place to sleep and food to eat.  That’s why she never left.  Although she cared for Zora too much to leave her side, Arianna would never admit it to her. 

The maidservant stood nearly six feet tall, was fair skinned, and slender.  She had almond brown layers of ringlets that were usually pulled back at the nape of her neck.  She had a pretty face, overall, although she failed to realize it.

“Did
you
put me to bed last night, Ari?” Zora questioned, rubbing her eyes briskly to clear away the sleepiness.  Her head felt groggy and heavy.  She couldn’t seem to recall any of the events that occurred after she returned to Mizra last night.  The image of the blazing lake of flame and the dead body of Queen Evangeline floating within it were the only things she remembered.

“No, My Lady,” Arianna replied.  “You asked me not to tend to you yesterday.  Don’t you remember?”  Zora bit her lip and shook her head.  Now she was even more perplexed.

“What time did you say it was again?”

              “It’s noon,” Arianna retorted quickly.  Her wiry arms and tiny waist swayed back and forth with the movements of the broom across the floor as she began to tidy up Zora’s chamber.

Why so late? 
Zora thought.
  My tutelage begins only two hours past sunrise.  Blast!  Milo is going to kill me!

“Zora?” Arianna asked calmly, interrupting Zora’s brief muse.  “I must know, for my own safety, what exactly were you doing in here last night?” 

The hushed clinking sound of broken glass followed each of Arianna’s brush strokes across the floor. She watched as Zora’s eyes widened to the size of marbles as she surveyed her own bedchamber, seeing for the first time what Arianna had seen when she entered the room.

Several glass vials lay broken and shattered on the floor in front of Zora’s dresser, along with a puddle of oily liquid that had dripped out of a bottle teetering on the edge.  Zora sniffed the air, cringing at the reek that had somehow escaped her at waking. 

Boar tongue…and thorn root
, Zora thought, then noted the red colored leaves that lay scattered across the floor. 

Zora was constantly making up new concoctions from her plants on the Shoulder.  She owned a small cast iron caldron that hung from a hook above her hearth, and that is where she did most of her brewing.  She was in love with making healing potions and teas, and when she sat up late into the night working, she was usually trying to create something that would drift her off into sleep instead of wandering through the dream world like she did almost every night.

Zora frowned in distaste as she looked around. 
What was I doing last night?

Arianna stood with her hands on hips as she waited for Zora’s response.  “I can’t remember exactly what I was doing,” Zora laughed nervously, breaking the eye lock with her friend.  Straightening the hump of wrinkled bed covers around her, Zora discovered a silky white powder that had somehow made its way onto her mattress.  She licked her finger and swept it through the fine dust, its sour fragrance nearly searing the inside of her nose when she sniffed it.  Zora let out a horrendous sneeze. 

Sleeping aid?  I don’t even know what this is!
 

Zora sighed in disappointment.  Obviously her experimental mixture of boar’s tongue and thorn root did nothing to halt the disturbing dreams from invading her slumber.  While Arianna continued to tidy her mess, Zora got out of bed to watch the incoming storm from her window.

She sat herself on the sill, like she often did, and let the cool raindrops splash her warm skin.  The sky was an ebony color now, and the hills were obscured by a heavy gray down pour moving into the valley.  A dense cloud of condensation had formed on top of the moat that separated the rock fortress from the land below, making it seem as if she was floating on a cloud.  Zora closed her eyes, listening to the thunder still booming steadily in the distance, menacing, yet peaceful.

I have to find a way to beat whatever possesses me
, Zora thought,
to keep the pain of my scar from returning, to keep the dreams from coming in my sleep.  If I tell anyone, even Arianna of what I’ve seen or heard, they will think I am crazy.  A lunatic that belongs in a cell locked away forever.  I am as determined now as I’ve ever been to be rid of this plight.  I never meant for this to interfere with my life and my sanity. But I know I can’t be rid of this fiend alone. I can’t do this by myself…

When Zora opened her eyes, the veil of gray rain sitting over the rooftops of Alumhy has receded slightly, revealing a pale ribbon of orange that seemed to slither its way through the city’s streets.  Zora flinched at the strange sight in surprise.  Was she still seeing things from her dream world?

“Arianna, what is that figure moving in the distance?  I can hardly make it out, but it seems to be headed straight for Mizra!”  Zora pointed her finger to an obscure point in the city.

Arianna came around back of Zora, wiping the residue of one of her potions off on her apron.  She squinted her eyes to see better, then mumbled to herself, “They’re still coming in, eh?”

“They?” Zora questioned in surprise.  Arianna nodded.

“King Andre DeVore of the country Cara has decided to call upon Samaria this day.  And it looks as though he brought the whole capitol of Idenborough with him.”

Below Mizra, the clouds temporarily cleared, and Zora was finally able to make out a caravan of Carian nobles, soldiers, and servants as they paraded their way though the city streets right up to the fortress gates.  Above the calamity of the distant thunder, Zora could hear the monotonous thud of leather boots and the clip-clop of iron horse shoes hitting the bridge as they crossed over from Alumhy.  Zora watched wide-eyed in skepticism. 

“This doesn’t make any sense,” she voiced.  “No one has told me anything about the Carian King coming to visit.  In fact, no one
ever
visits Samaria anymore.  I just saw Arvil Pennington yesterday.  He must’ve known about this, but he didn’t bother to say a word to the Samarian Princess!”  Zora bit her lip in irritation.  “I don’t understand why the Queen is so secretive when it comes to me.  What is she neglecting to tell me?  Or is it just that she forgets I exist?” 

Arianna remained silent.  She knew Zora was just venting her hurt feelings regarding her mother’s ambiguity towards King DeVore’s unexplained visit to Samaria.

  “And why does King DeVore display such a parade and procession if it’s just an amicable visit by one monarch to another?”  She looked towards her friend for an answer.

“Don’t ask me, My Lady,” Arianna replied.  “You know far more about the customs of nobility life than myself.”  Zora watched the visitors suspiciously for a second longer, and as she did so, an unsettling feeling began to gather in her lower abdomen, although she was unable to attribute it to anything specific.

“Aye, that I do,” Zora muttered.  “And rulers don’t just show up with their entire households for any old reason.  The Queen is plotting something, and I have a foul inkling about it.” 

The maidservant decided not to answer, but no more words were needed.  A feeling of understanding passed between the two women.  For the first time in a long time Arianna felt a rush of sympathy for the young woman under her care.  The Princess of Samaria was as fierce as a bull and rarely showed any emotion beyond indifference towards anyone, including her best friend.  But Arianna knew she was always hurting, in more ways than one, and took that into consideration every time Zora’s tough nature got the better of her.
              Zora quietly observed the Carian pages flying the orange and yellow country banners that displayed the Carian crest: a curved scythe underneath a gigantic sunburst.  Columns of soldiers, ten abreast and ten deep, armed in full battle attire marched up to the castle.  The King was riding a white stallion, and following him were several more men that Zora assumed were other Carian royalty.

They wore bright orange capes tied at the neck with a ruby broach. Orange tunics of satin draped lazily over their bodies, with raised embroidered designs decorating their chests. All wore boots of brown leather that reached their knees while black trousers bloused out over them. The Carian noble women were carried in on litters covered by delicate sheers to keep out the stormy rains. The Castle Guards of Mizra slowly opened the great gates to the fortress, allowing the remaining groups of Carians though and into the dryness of shelter.