Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Contents

Letter from the Editor 2

Poetry 3

Stories 10 Outcast 10 The Cost of Freedom 35 Pride Goes Before the Fall 49 Virendril 56

Upcoming Books from Misty 63

List of Fairs and Conventions 64

Submission Instructions 65

Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Letter from the Editor

As you can see Golden Grove is back and gone digital now that some of the legal restrictions have been loosened. I’m hoping to make this a 3 times a year publication, but that is going to be dependent on the number of submissions I get. Scroll down to the last page for submission instructions. I’m willing to publish submissions in any of the following areas: Poetry, fan-fiction (Misty’s as well as any original Sci-Fi/Fantasy works), original artwork , Fairs and Convention dates and details, book reviews and rank advancement requirements for Queen’s Own. Please keep all writing and artwork PG. And don’t forget to submit your release form.

Golden Grove will be published as a PDF file which most computers can read using Adobe’s free viewer (http://get.adobe.com/reader ). It also gives those with an e- Reader the ability to read Golden Grove on their device though you may not be able to see the beautiful colors of our readers’ artwork.

I hope to publish issues of Golden Grove on or about the 10 th of the following months: January, May and September. Though that may change based on outside demands beyond my control.

Wind to thy Wings, Herald Nalei Rayskeline

Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Moonstar Crystal blue eyes Long white hair Wisdom Belying her age

Clothes of Sapphire, Amethyst, and Emerald Silk Tunic, leather trews Beautiful clothing against her tanned skin

Living in a treetop Enclosed in her ekele Protected from the wind Surrounded by books

Happy or sad Quiet or loud Never Caught in between Never Halfway

Woman of change Far from static Loving the Starry-Eyed And all that she stands for

Loss and New Beginnings Curled against Shadowlyte She cried out her pain She felt her lover’s blood pour Through her fingers

Gentle hands pulled her away Nightfall’s body lay in a heap

Moonstar’s world shifted Shadowlyte let her cry her eyes out And pulled her mind back into place

Over the summer the two became close Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Moonstar had a new lover A woman this time A lover who was a better friend

Song of a Battle Moonstar, Healer-Adept of the k’Vala Clan Goes to help Outlanders in another land Healer-Adept dressed in green Rushes to help make others clean

Meeting a Mercenary along the way Traveling together at least that day Camping near a river Getting wet with a shiver Never making it to separate beds Feeling each other’s light shine in their heads Deciding to travel together to Haven Knowing of the war, thinking of the lives they were saven

Mercenary helping out his native land Healer offering her helping hand Traveled together for a week Entering the town far from meek Heralds’ are meeting them from the Crown Along with soldiers from the town In one big group they all set out For Enthusiasm, the townspeople raise a shout

Enemies fighting at dawn Gory battles with demonspawn Death following on both sides Blood falling in awful tides

Defeating demons in the end Into the Outlands the mages they send

Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Moonstar’s Words to a Mercenary I have seen you I have felt you I have mated with you Knowing you were destined for another

I have felt your love for her I have felt you pushing away from me With all that you have To stay with her And keep your love pure

You feel for her Near to what you felt for your wife Before she died

I see you wasting that love For some misguided sense of purpose That hurts the Healer in me To see you both causing yourselves So much pain The Embrace Walking into the room Moonstar stopped and stared with awe Shadowlyte whom she hadn’t seen In two years was standing there Beautiful in body and spirit, She was standing there Moonstar’s arms ached to hold her Moonstar’s heart ached to speak with her But she stood silently watching

Wolf was there, near Always near Catya The Herald to whom his heart belonged

“It would never have been mine” she knew They were Outlanders and belonged together As to we Tayledras Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Not together permanently Just, always, casual lovers “Oh but I want her” Moonstar’s body cried out, Rebelling against the eyes That just wanted to observe

So her voice cried out the name, “Shadowlyte” filled with Emotion, filled with raw emotion Moonstar saw the beauty in watching her Turn her face Lighting with recognition Moonstar’s heart leapt to her throat Her lover’s eyes were glistening As she whispered “Moonstar” Just the one word, the one word Filled with the same love, friendship and desire

They moved as one, crossing the room Rushing to one another Arms wrapping around each other Mouths embracing Tongues mingling Bodies together saying everything They were thinking Everything was said in The embrace.

The Forest Dayfire ran through the forest She greeted it with reckless abandon Though a woman in body The child of her spirit called to her

She danced with the joy Feeling the love of her Goddess Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Dayfire bowed to the greatness The child of her spirit called to her

The mate of her body stood before her She embraced Nightfall He joined in her dance of love The child of her spirit called to her

Then he was gone He was lost to her Her joy turned to emptiness The child of her spirit called to her

She fell to her knees She felt the love of her Goddess Embraced by the forest The child of her spirit cried for her

Dawn Laying against the Herald The small Tayledras woman almost feared daybreak

Now she was no longer alone Wrapped in the Herald’s arms she knew it would end

They had one night Perhaps that was all in a world filled with such rage

They filled a void Within each other they soothed the hurts of ones who were lost

Now dawn was a sigh on the horizon Together they awakened, together they loved, and now together they faced the world

Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Hameesheh/Forever

I feel the air fill my lungs I feel you fill my heart I feel you pumping through my veins Causing a rushing, burning, yearning Need

I feel the stone sheltering me from the storm I feel you sheltering me from the hurt I feel you soothing my heart Causing a rushing, burning, yearning Need

I feel the fire warming my body I feel your passion warming my soul I feel you heating my blood Causing a rushing, burning, yearning Need

I feel the water cleansing me I feel you cleansing my mind I feel you washing away the pain Causing a rushing, burning, yearning Need

~Kendra J. Renaud 11-19-02

Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Outcast

by Catherine Wood and Kendra Renaud

The Shin’a’in guide who finally came to take Dawnweaver to Pretara’sedrin’s summer

pastures surprised Heartsblood with his age, or more accurately, his lack thereof. The hunter-

scout called Tanden looked to be approximately Heartsblood’s age, but he was far less mature. It

seemed strange that someone so young be sent, after the Elder who had come originally to

interview Dawnweaver following her inquiry into apprenticeship with the Pretara’sedrin rug weaver,

Had’nira. The elderly artist herself had not made that first journey, as she had already judged

Dawnweaver to be a worthy pupil based on her work. The Elder had come accompanied by two very

intimidating Kal’enedral, to judge whether Dawnweaver was worthy of being adopted into the

Grasscat Clan, if only temporarily.

Dawnweaver had easily passed their inspection, so why did this youngling, who had only been

sent as a guide, feel compelled to interview her again?

Tanden folded his arms across his chest, increasing his look of self-importance. “There will

be no hertasi there to dress you and minister to your needs.”

After half a mark of this insulting questioning, even sweet-natured Dawnweaver was

becoming cross. “Do you see any hertasi here?”

She made a sweeping gesture with her arm to take in the ekele around them. “Not all

Tayledras warrant the personal service of the hertasi, and most of those who do are perfectly

capable of dressing and caring for themselves.”

She mirrored his authoritative stance, crossing her arms, her eyes flashing defiantly. Off

to the side, Heartsblood smiled and leaned back in her chair, in order to give Grasshadow more

room on her lap. This young man was going to have to learn quickly that this was no way to treat a

guest of your Clan, much less a woman. Dawnweaver needed no help from her older sister to settle

this matter, but the amusing exchange was keeping Heartsblood’s mind off her own approaching

departure from the Raven Vale.

Tanden’s skull seemed very thick. “You must be able to defend yourself. The Plains can be

very dangerous.” Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

“And the Pelagirs aren’t?” Dawnweaver rolled her eyes. “I doubt you would have made it here in one piece, if not for the Tayledras scouts guarding your path.” She flipped her long braid over her shoulder and glared at him.

Tanden’s mouth opened and closed, his mind working out how to deal with this challenge to his pride which had come from an unarmed woman. Heartsblood would have bet that, if Dawnweaver had been Shin’a’in, Tanden would have started a fight. Finally, he said angrily, “I am a four-claw scout,” and pointed to the paw tattooed over his right eyebrow, “and a hunter with full privileges in my Clan. Your magical beasts here do not frighten me.”

In a move which proved again Heartsblood’s theory that her family’s resident wildcats were much more intelligent than other Clanfolk imagined, Amberfire leapt upon Tanden from her perch in the rafters, right on cue. The small bobcat only touched-down on his shoulder for a moment, before springing to Dawnweaver, where she draped herself around Dawnweaver’s neck. The surprise attack completely spooked the Shin’a’in, who jumped and, to his credit, was holding two long knives ready for defense in record time.

Heartsblood tried her best not to laugh aloud at his loss of face. Dawnweaver, though clearly feeling the same as her sister, evidenced only a satisfied smirk. “This interview is over.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must finish packing for the long journey tomorrow.”

She spun on her heel and stalked off toward her workroom, Amberfire’s lazily-twitching tail making an odd sight down Dawnweaver’s departing back. Tanden’s face was flushed, but

Heartsblood noted it was due to embarrassment, not anger. He sheathed one blade and began to casually sharpen the other, as if that was the reason he’d drawn it to begin with. Heartsblood rose from her seat, lifting Grasshadow with her and respectfully placing him back on the vacant chair.

Her tawny friend stretched out his graceful feline body and closed his eyes for a catnap.

She turned to the Shin’a’in. “Shall I show you to your guest lodgings?”

He sheathed his knife and glanced up at her sheepishly. “Please I have overstayed my welcome here.”

As they walked back through the forest toward the Vale, Heartsblood tried to think of something non-confrontational to talk about. Tanden spoke first. “You are Healer-Adept of this

Clan?” Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Heartsblood shrugged of the flood of thoughts and anxieties that title brought to mind: the Council demanding that she go away for training; the disappointed look in Blackbird’s eyes... “I am not fully trained. Perhaps, someday, I will fill that position.”

Tanden seemed to sense her discomfort in that subject and let it drop. For quite a while, there was only the sound of their movement on the path. Then, hesitantly, he said, “your sister... I don’t think she likes me.”

Heartsblood snorted. That was not at all what she would have expected to hear from him.

Her emotional instinct gravitated to her soul-sib’s enviously detached and casual manner. She tried her best to emulate it, as she said, “Did she say that?”

In a very childish, nervous habit, Tanden chewed the end of one braid. “Well... not in words..”

“Then how do you know?”

He shrugged helplessly and shook his head. His entire manner, even his body language had metamorphosed since they’d left the ekele. It hardly took Heartsblood’s Empathic Gift to tell that

Tanden was very attracted to Dawnweaver.

Heartsblood kept her eyes ahead, as she told him, “I would give you a bit of advice in dealing with my sister.”

He looked up, trying to pretend he was not as interested in this information as he felt.

“Give her the same respect and courtesy you would give any Shin’a’in girl your age, and you will find she can be much more pleasant that she was just now. Continue to treat her as you have been, and you will not reach the Plains uninjured.”

His brown eyes widened very slightly, as he realized she was not joking. He fell into a meditative silence until they reached the shield barrier around the Vale.

It was still several marks before dusk, and Heartsblood wondered if she should play the good hostess and show Tanden around the Vale. She felt obligated to do so, but she really did not want to. There were so many things to do before she was to leave in two days’ time, so many things to plan for and think about. Although Dawnweaver’s apprenticeship and departure were not trivial in this, entertaining this Shin’a’in was.

Tanden solved her dilemma, as they stepped into the humid summer of the Vale. “I am weary from my travel. All I want now is a good rest.” Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

“That is easily arranged.” The soft, breathy voice which answered him had not come from

Heartsblood, but from a hertasi who materialized from a leafy shrub right next to them. Leeva was the child of the hertasi family who looked after Heartsblood, as well as the others currently dwelling in voorthayshen. The pretty lizard had appeared so abruptly, Heartsblood was sure she’d been waiting for them.

Tanden looked only mildly frightened of the tiny hertasi, but he clutched the handle of one of his knives warily. Heartsblood placed a firm but gentle hand on his wrist to make certain he did not embarrass himself and cause an incident by doing something rash. “Tanden shena

Pretara’sedrin, this is Leeva of the Raven Clan hertasi.”

Tanden let go his weapon and gingerly extended his hand in greeting. Leeva moved her square, olive-green hand to meet his, but at the last minute, swished her tail forward and over the palm of his hand, instead. She dissolved into a fit of hissing giggles, covering her snout with both hands and batting her eyes furiously.

The Shin’a’in looked down at his still-extended hand in utter confusion. He could not have known this was not a form of greeting Leeva had ever received before. The hertasi’s shy embarrassment battered at Heartsblood’s shields. Heartsblood did not blame the child for playing one of her tricks to relieve the tense situation.

“Cousin, if you don’t mind, I will place you in Leeva’s capable hands for your needs before retiring. You will find she is very easy to deal with, when she is not joking around.” Heartsblood looked pointedly at the small lizard-girl. “She will answer any questions you may have. Unlike many lizard-folk in our Vale, she adept at vocal speech.”

Leeva smiled at the compliment. Heartsblood knew how hard she had worked to overcome her reptilian palate and instinctive shyness in order to speak as well as she did today. It would have been impossible to leave Tanden with another hertasi who used the more traditional communication of Mindspeech. To Heartsblood’s knowledge, the Shin’a’in did not possess the Gift of Mindspeech, like their Tayledras cousins.

Tanden looked back and forth between human and hertasi and said, uncertainly, “Well, thank you.”

Heartsblood gave him an encouraging smile and a hearty slap on the back, before starting

down a different path. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Once alone again, she could not avoid the many questions in her own mind about her coming move. There was only one person she wanted to speak with now-- well, two people, technically, although they occupied the same office. The uncommon, common-sense the Clan shaman offered had always made her feel better.

* * *

Moonstar sat amongst the jewel toned pillows in the living area of her ekele. The mage lights glittered from the ceiling. A breeze rattled the windows. There was soft music coming from the lute her hands were caressing.

The quietness, gentleness was what she had been craving for the last week or so. The last, tainted magic pool, was larger than expected and it took a much longer time to cleanse. Afterward, she felt as if the pounding in her temples would never stop. As always, Moonstar’s headache did go away.

“Moonssstar, it isss time for dinner,” Em said.

She started, she hadn’t known he had entered the room. The hertasi walked up to her, setting down a tray of delicate fruit pastries and thinly sliced meat. There was enough for two.

Moonstar raised an eyebrow, “we aren’t expecting Thundersong tonight are we?”

Em smiled, though the Healer Adept and Scout did not share ekeles, they were frequent lovers. It was rumored about the Vale that they would soon share bond bird feathers, but that rumor had been floating around for the last several years.

“No,” he said finally. “Winterwolf hasss sssomething he wissshess to dissscusss with you.”

Moonstar was completely puzzled. If Winterwolf wanted to talk to her, he usually did it at the Clan Gatherings or during Clan Meetings. He rarely came to her ekele; he did not feel comfortable this high in the tree.

A knock on the door let her know that whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be a secret much longer. She set the lute back into its rack and stood, crystals in her hair charming together as she did. She opened the door to a winded elder.

“Do you really have to live this high in the tree?” he complained good humoredly.

Moonstar hugged him and motioned him to sit. She poured him a cup of cold water and offered it to him. “What is so important for you to climb this far?” Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

“I came to talk to you about a troublesome girl from another clan.”

His answer was so unlike himself, Moonstar’s curiosity was raised. For one thing he sounded bitter and angry, and yet sad somehow too. She waited. If he was upset he would spill out the information in his own time and as much as she wanted to push him, she would get no answers that way. Instead she picked up a slice of meat and nibbled as he gathered his thoughts.

“She ran off to the Outlands, and has just returned. She shouldn’t have gone, half trained, prone to self pity. Her mother, dying of worry. The council in an uproar.” He paused to gather more thoughts; it was as if he was rehearsing some story, or remembering it anyway. “She is the youngest Healer Adept of her Clan with no responsibilities as of yet. She had absolutely NO reason to run. This is what one of the council members told me.”

Taking a piece of fruit, Moonstar puzzled it out. The clan’s council was speaking of the girl in a way that Winterwolf disagreed. He always felt that one should prove their own worth not be slandered in order to redeem themselves. That, one should arrive with a clean slate not with vicious hearsay, to feel as if they have to overcome. Unable to find the connection for herself, she spoke,

“What has the poor girl to do with me?”

“You are rescuing the girl, though woman she is.” He looked into her eyes and liking what he saw there he continued. “You have been Healer Adept of our clan for ten years and a competent one at that. The council and I have decided that you are to finish training her. I just chose to warn you before she arrived.”

Moonstar’s eyes widened. “I am to what?”

“We stopped their council just short of banishing the girl to the Pelagirs, and through her teacher, Blackbird, suggested our clan to take her in until hurts are soothed and the girl is not so impulsive. What Blackbird says of her is that while she is prone to self pity she needs to be away from her mother to find her true potential. To stay together under the pressure that is coming.”

The fruit turned to ash in her mouth, “I don’t know if I am ready, but I will try.”

Winterwolf’s smile broadened. “I knew you would. You are a credit to the Clan, Moonstar.”

* * *

The early morning sun should not have been bright enough yet to make Heartsblood squint,

as she watched Dawnweaver’s last minute preparations. Most likely, it was just the lack of sleep, Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

which was also making her stomach feel positively green. She was glad she’d been too tense to eat yesterday.

Tanden spoke soothingly to his dappled gray warsteed, as he finished balancing the packs across the mare’s broad back. Amberfire made his job more difficult by jumping onto the warsteed’s back and sitting down right in the middle of the straps he was trying to buckle. When

Tanden tried to work around her, the wildcat crouched and swiped at his hands, mischievously.

Next to Heartsblood, Adler chuckled softly. He did not look any worse for having stayed up all night with her. Then again, he was used to going days without sleep as part of his shamanic training.

Last night, when it had become obvious that no one was going to get any sleep, Adler had suggested they braid Dawnweaver’s hair, claiming he wanted to learn a particularly intricate

Shin’a’in style. Coincidentally, arranging the rows of tiny braids across Dawnweaver’s scalp took a long time to do, and was as good an excuse for restless fingers as any.

Heartsblood knew it was just an excuse, because the style would not have done much for

Adler’s own hair, which was just now growing even with the nape of his neck. After little more than a season in the vale, his wavy, chestnut hair had already faded several shades, and would evidence gray streaks soon. It would be a shame; Heartsblood admired his fine, strange-colored hair just now growing even with his square chin. Her own curling locks were never so charming to her, and were presently bound tightly down her back in one long, leather-trimmed ponytail.

Dawnweaver finally turned to face her gathered family, and Adler squeezed Heartsblood’s hand supportively. This was going to be terrible. Sunstar had had the right idea, showing up just before dawn to bestow her parting gift and well-wishes and then leaving quickly.

Whippoorwill was first. As Dawnweaver walked over to him, her chest glittered in the scattered rays of sunshine which broke through the canopy. The bandoleer Sunstar had given her held a myriad of throwing discs, knives, and stars. Heartsblood knew the price in favors Sunstar had paid for both weapons and sash of such exquisite workmanship. She would have gladly contributed toward procuring it for Dawnweaver, but Heartsblood was not exactly the Clan favorite right now.

Dawnweaver embraced Whippoorwill awkwardly, due to her weapons and his perching harness, which he had forgotten to remove when his mated pair of owls had left a few minutes Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

previous. They spoke in private Mindspeech, and then Dawnweaver moved on to clasp her father’s hands.

Forestlight deteriorated into blubbering and tears, as they’d all known he would. No one blamed him; it was hard to lose two children in one week. Heartsblood almost cracked a smile, picturing what Dawnweaver’s reaction would be, when she found the cakes and sweetmeats their father had insisted on sneaking into her luggage. She would be picking sugary crumbs out of her clothes and equipment for weeks, cursing his sentimentality with a big grin on her face.

Heartsblood’s hertasi would make sure Forestlight did no such thing with her bags tomorrow.

Heartsblood’s stomach lurched at the reminder of her own departure. Sensing her panic,

Adler’s soft brown eyes met her silver ones in a brief moment of reassurance, and he stepped aside to give her a moment with Dawnweaver. Throwing her arms around her little sister, Heartsblood squeezed until she felt as if she might break her.

I have something for you , Sister . Dawnweaver’s mind-voice trembled slightly, and

Heartsblood realized she was using Mindspeech not so much for privacy, but because she was overwrought. Heartsblood wished she could envelope her and absorb Dawnweaver’s anxiety and nervousness, but then Dawnweaver was lifting a leather thong over her head and holding it out to

Heartsblood.

It was a traveling charm, about the size of her cupped palm, made of silver and stained glass. Unlike the first one Dawnweaver had made for her some months ago, which had been a traditional male icon, this one was in the shape of a beautiful Tayledras woman. She held a long, gnarled walking staff and her long silvery hair blew around her, glistening with tiny crystals

Dawnweaver had mixed into the glass. She wore loose, brown robes decorated with blue crescent moons, and her eyes held no white or iris, but a shimmering black field of stars. Dawnweaver must have spent days crafting this. Heartsblood clutched it to her chest and looked back at her sister.

I know you gave the first one to your blood-brother. One token for one journey. You

needed a new one.

Heartsblood’s eyes were misting over; she couldn’t help it. She pulled Dawnweaver close and kissed her. Once again, I bow to your wisdom. Zhai’helleva, Dearheart.

And also with you, Love , Dawnweaver smiled sadly as she drew away. Before she could go,

Adler suddenly stepped forward. Dawnweaver stopped and inclined her head to him. He laid on Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

thick-fingered hand, still so clearly that of a farmer’s son, on her forehead and spoke a few words in a language Heartsblood felt she should recognize, but did not.

Then he said, “May the South wind guide your path along the road, and may the new moon serve as your advisor while you tarry away from your Clan. The blessings of all the children of the

Raven go with you, and, remember, the Star-Eyed watches over you the same on the Plains as She does here.”

As he kissed her brow, completing the blessing, the raven perched on his shoulder launched skyward and flew above tree level, where it circled over them three times to the left and called down to them, before soaring in search of a morning meal. Adler looked as surprised as any of them at this good omen. The raven was not of bondbird stock, and he could not communicate with it. It had stayed with him as a reminder to the rest of the Clan ever since She had declared him a member of the Raven Clan.

They all expelled a breath none of them had known they were holding. Adler nodded to

Dawnweaver, and she turned quickly, grabbing her pack and whisking it to her shoulders without breaking stride. Tanden fumbled to catch up with her. Dawnweaver did not turn back.

* * *

This is very pretty. Very flattering . The hertasi woman presented yet another gaudy outfit for Heartsblood’s approval.

A few hours after Dawnweaver’s departure, Heartsblood still had not slept or eaten, and it was hard for her to concentrate on packing. She sighed, weary inside and out. Randa, please pack whatever you like. You know how much room is left in my bags better than I do. I trust your judgement.

The hertasi drew back in surprise. They always argued over clothing. She could not know that Heartsblood had already given up hope of finding approval with the Eagle Clan. If the Clan she had lived in all her life did not like her, had, in fact, outcast her, how could she expect more of strangers?

The childish side of Heartsblood still wanted to argue clothes for the sake of comfort. The rest of her was just apathetic. Fatigue won out and she walked around the suspicious look Randa was giving her and headed for the pools. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

A voice in the back of her mind warned that she might run into Blackbird if she left her room in voorthayshen. But Heartsblood could no longer summon the strength to care about that either. Besides, there was nothing her former Master could do that would be any worse than what the council had already done, nothing he could say now which could make her feel any worse.

Heartsblood clambered up into the pool for resting with her usual grace and agility, sending a wave of hot water splashing over the rim. She leaned back on a bench and was out like a light.

* * *

Moonstar stood and looked into her closet. All of the bright colors cascaded out in a light to dark rainbow of jeweled tones and metallics. “What am I going wear?”

Thundersong lounged across the pillows, admiring her lovers body as the moonlight bathed it. “Why don’t you wear the white one?”

Moonstar made a face, “white always makes me look so severe.”

“It’s the newest one, and you wouldn’t want Em to think you didn’t like it.” Thundersong stood and walked up behind her.

“The headdress is ridiculous, and I will look like a big white peacock.” Moonstar complained.

“For me then.” Thundersong looked at her pleadingly. Though she didn’t like to dress in the fine robes, Moonstar wore. The scout liked to look at her petite, lithe lover in the feminine raiments. The fact she wasn’t going to see the entrance of the student didn’t detour her, she would see her just before the Gate was erected.

Moonstar’s eyes softened. She stepped into Thundersong’s arms, “For you then.”

* * *

Heartsblood came back to herself abruptly, from a deep sleep. Wiping off the saliva which

had dribbled down the side of her face, she sat up and met the steady gray eyes of Chief Healer

Summerlight. Summerlight was Blackbird’s shay’kreth’ashke and had taught Heartsblood the

Healer’s craft before anyone knew of her Healer-Adept Gifts. Still feeling bleary-eyed,

Heartsblood was having great difficulty finding aught to say.

Summerlight leaned on the stone rim across from her former pupil, her gaze never wavering.

“You look terrible.” Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Heartsblood shook her head, but the muscles in her neck were stiff and did not work very well. “I don’t feel so bad.” She winced as a throbbing headache rewarded her lie.

Summerlight favored her with a wry smile. “Remember who you’re talking to here.”

She walked around to Heartsblood’s side of the pool and pressed her cool palms to

Heartsblood’s head, relieving the pain. “Browdi is going to bring you some fruit and stew. You will eat all of it. Then, go to bed.”

She left with a graceful sweep of her long, blue gown. As always, she looked wonderful, if

unornamental. All of her clothes were made of a soft, stretchy fabric, with close fitting sleeves.

It was impractical for a Healer to wear embroidered silk.

Summerlight’s mind-voice reached back to Heartsblood, after she was out of sight. Speak to

him Heartsblood. He feels wretched, and he will miss you when you are gone. Perhaps more than

any of us.

Again, Heartsblood tried to shrug off thoughts of Blackbird. He did not care that she was leaving. He had sat in silence during her whole inquisition by the Council. Not a glimmer of pity or

remorse had crossed his face as they had passed sentence. There had been only that feeling of

disappointment and shame. No doubt, he regretted ever having agreed to teach her.

When Browdi brought food, Heartsblood ate without thinking. She did her best to drag

herself out of the water and to her bed before the drugs took over. Leeva had come to help, as

Heartsblood nearly fell down with sleep.

* * *

A smoky, yellow-green presence awoke Heartsblood with a gentle mind-touch. She opened

her eyes to see Leeva standing over her. She was relieved that it was Leeva and not one of the

other two hertasi. There was no telling what her mood would be like in the little time left here, and

Heartsblood did not want to say something to Randa or Browdi she would later regret. They had

been very kind to her these past two years, in their own meddlesome hertasi way.

“What time is it?” she asked, sitting up slowly.

Leeva’s round, golden eyes were apologetic. “Just dawn.” Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Heartsblood could have kicked herself for having slept so long. There had been so many things she was going to do, so many people she wanted to see one last time... But there was no getting those hours back now.

She followed Leeva to the pool room, where the lizard-girl laid out towels and herbal soap and promised to return with breakfast. Heartsblood scrubbed half-heartedly at her itchy skin, feeling more depressed by the moment. When Leeva came back, Heartsblood did not protest to having her hair washed. She ate fruit and cheese between rinses.

While she was sitting numbly on a bench, wondering what Leeva was braiding into her hair,

Oni mind-touched her . Going time?

His presence in her mind was comforting, and Heartsblood unconsciously rubbed one corner of the towel she was wrapped up in, as if she were caressing his feathers. Soon enough, Big Eyes.

Oni stayed with her quietly for a moment. Oni sad, too . He contemplated this feeling. Miss

Cir. Miss Anya and Tith. Miss scalies. Even miss Keya . Keya and Oni, as red-shouldered hawk to

great horned owl, were natural enemies, but they had developed a mutual respect for Heartsblood’s

and Sunstar’s sake.

Heartsblood refused to list all those whom she would miss. Are you ready then? she asked,

breaking his train of thought.

Oni fly once more. Meet you at disappearing place. His presence faded, as he went to bid farewell to his hunting grounds and the forest where he’d been hatched.

Heartsblood came back to herself just as Leeva handed her clothes to put on. She stared in dumb recognition at the plain teal blouse and loose trousers she’d made herself. Heartsblood had been sure Randa had done away with all of her old outfits long ago.

“It took me all night, but I finally convinced Mother that you felt bad enough leaving the

Vale as it was. You deserve to be comfortable on you last morning.”

A lump formed in Heartsblood’s throat. She would never have expected sympathy from the hertasi. “Thank you,” she managed at last.

Leeva nodded and smiled. “I will make certain Father has remembered all of your things.”

While she dressed, Heartsblood ran down the small list of items she wanted to be sure she took, for sentimental reasons. She was wearing Dawnweaver’s traveling charm and Kieven’s silver ring, which she never took off. The charcoal sketches of Whippoorwill as a baby and the carved wooden shield her mother had given her father the day they’d lifebonded were both tucked Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

carefully away in her knapsack. Her flute was packed in with her clothes. The only thing left was her knife, which she was belting on even now.

Heartsblood pulled on her boots and walked toward her room to help carry the packs out.

As she turned the corner, she almost collided with the dark figure waiting for her there. Blackbird stood away from the wall, which he’d been leaning against. “Did you really intend to leave without speaking to me?”

His bold blue eyes searched her face. Waves of pain and sadness radiated from him, feeling so like her own. Heartsblood looked, but there was no anger or disapproval in him, as she’d expected. His hurt at her avoidance of him was so clear, it broke through her wall of self-pity.

Heartsblood fell apart, her shoulders shaking with sobs. “Master, I have shamed you...”

He wrapped his arms around her, and she pressed her face against the tough, black leather of his sleeveless jerkin. It was several moments before Heartsblood realized he was crying, as well.

She looked up to see a single tear suspended from one pronounced cheekbone. It was a sight more rare than any number of shooting stars.

“It is I who must apologize to you, Child. I have served you ill, always speaking of honor and right, and now it has come down to the bare bones of harsh reality. You did only what you had to do.

For this, the Council would have punished you. My words would not be heard, due to personal involvement, they said.

“But, hear me; your apprenticeship to a Healer Adept was long past due, an inevitable conclusion, not a banishment. Look at the result and not the cause.”

He paused, but Heartsblood hardly noticed. She had gotten stuck on a point halfway through. How dare the Council silence Blackbird? He’d had nothing to do with her running away. If

she had known their suspicions of him during the interrogation, she would have told them exactly

what she thought of them. All this time, she had thought that Blackbird hated her, and here he

had been censured for trying to come to her defense. Her face grew hot with anger. “That’s why you weren’t speaking?”

“Yes, Child. But you must show some tolerance for the fear and ignorance of a few oldsters.

They were set in their ways long before you were born. You can not know what going Outland means

to them..” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Now it is your task to prove yourself to them. Relax in your time away. Grow. Learn. Flourish in your new environment. When you return, no one will tell you what to do, unless you let them.” Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Heartsblood sighed, relieved by his words and their reconciliation. Blackbird leaned down closer to her, one freshly-dyed, black braid falling over his shoulder. “One thing more. When you reach the Eagle Vale, look for a tall, thin man, all in white. His name is Winterwolf, and he is an old friend of mine. If all else should fail, he will look after you.”

She stood on tip-toe and embraced his shoulders. “Thank you, Master. If you believe in me, then perhaps I can too.”

She turned not wanting to prolong the parting any more.

“I shall always believe in you, Heartsblood.” Heartsblood stopped to look back at him one last time, and he was gone.

* * *

Moonstar stood in Skyflame’s ekele wearing her finest outfit. Even so, it paled next to

Skyflame’s blindingly-bright robes in all the colors of the sunset, interwoven with enough gold

thread to make any merchant jealous.

‘If only someone would do that for me,’ Moonstar complained mentally. ‘If that doesn’t

attract Moonflute’s attention, I don’t know what will!’

Skyflame was so bent on catching his former lover’s eye, he was oblivious to the activity in

his ekele, forgetting the whole reason why a Gate would be opening to the Raven Vale, because he

was so obsessed with seeing the one person he was interested in there. Skyflame’s entire mental

and physical being was focused on the slightest possibility that Moonflute would come through the

Gate, or if not, that Moonflute would at least be so awed at the sight of him, he would make plans

to return for a visit at a later date.

‘Are people really this way? To be so much in love. If Moonflute doesn’t come through that

Gate, Skyflame is just going to kill his tailor.’ Moonstar started drifting back in her own mind to

her one true love, and decided that she was just as sickening. ‘And Moonflute was a fine looking

man, as well as powerful mage, not to mention if he was half as good as his rumored exploits made

him out to be was a fine mate indeed. Skyflame could do much worse.’

Close by Moonstar, Silversong stood impatiently, wrapped in her own thoughts. She was

currently tending an eagle with a mending wing, and he was just at the stage where he could fly, but,

if he did, he would do irreparable damage, for the bones were not strong enough yet to bear his Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

weight. He was unusually intelligent but very nervous, and needed a human he trusted to calm him.

As he was unbonded, that task fell to her. If she was away for too long, he might have an anxiety attack and fly in search of her, which was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid. This assignment, of yet another bondbird charge, aside from her own Harris hawk and the unbonded eagle, could not have come at a worse time. Silversong was even less pleased to hear through the Healer’s network that this great horned owl was particularly disobedient.

Winterwolf stood solemn on Moonstar’s left, as always dressed in white leathers from head to toe. If any of the others had been less self absorbed, they may have noticed the mischievous twinkle in his eye. Winterwolf was here in his capacity as Adept, in case any problems arose with the Gate on this end. He was also here in his capacity as Council Elder, to welcome Heartsblood and make introductions. He covered his mouth with one hand, trying to contain the giggles at the thought of the first meeting between Moonstar and Heartsblood. Their personalities were so different, someone had to make sure they wouldn’t kill each other.

* * *

A motley crowd of Clansfolk had gathered at the Council Oak “to see the Adept leave.”

Sunstar looked around at them, disgusted.

“Vultures,” she spat.

Heartsblood smiled, in spite of herself, and Sunstar put an arm around her shoulders and

squeezed. On Heartsblood’s other side, Whippoorwill clung to her hand, quietly. Forestlight stood

close by, nervously stroking his falcon’s crest feathers.

Not all of those gathered bore Heartsblood ill will. Summerlight had come, bearing an extra

supply of the herbal mixtures for the headaches and stomach pains Heartsblood frequently

suffered. There was the instrument craftswoman to whom Heartsblood had been temporarily

apprenticed as a child. A handful of Whippoorwill’s friends surrounded them. And Oni’s personal

Healer was just tucking him into his portable sleep closet. She looked over at Heartsblood and gave

a friendly wink.

Adler and Grandmother had smudged her with sweet-smelling clouds of bluish-green

incense, when she’d first arrived, blessing her on behalf of the whole Clan, who might have

objected, if they’d had a say in it. Now the two shamans stood near the mages, Grandmother Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

holding tightly to Adler’s elbow and looking frightening feeble. ‘She cannot be dying,’ Heartsblood told herself. ‘I refuse to accept that.’ The shaman had looked so vibrant earlier, her usual steely gaze probing Heartsblood as she spoke the blessing. Heartsblood forced her thoughts to move on.

She and Moonflute had said their farewells days ago, as he was performing the Gate spell today. Moonflute was the only Adept who’d been to the Eagle Clan’s new Vale. To Heartsblood’s great embarrassment, the terminus there was to be the doorway of his lover’s ekele, as it was the doorway he knew the best there. Heartsblood had visions of stepping across into this man’s home, startling him out of a sound sleep or some more intimate activity. Of course, it would not happen that way. There would be a delegation waiting for her there, just as there was one seeing her off here.

Council Elder Stonetree was speaking with Moonflute now, too far away for Heartsblood to overhear. Behind him, stood the most negative group of all those who had come to see her leave.

Councilman Eaglesight was surrounded by a chattering band of the uppity mages who followed him everywhere. Among them were Moonstone’s father and Heartsblood’s mother.

It should not still hurt her to see her mother turned against her like this. By Council decree, Stormwind had not been allowed to interact with her family for two years, but it had not changed much. Heartsblood’s old wounds had not healed simply for lack of new ones. She felt each of them now, just from looking at her mother. She only hoped her father did not see Stormwind standing there with Lionheart.

A sudden, sharp pain with the feel of Forestlight told Heartsblood she had hoped in vain.

She separated from her siblings and moved in front of her father, deliberately blocking his view of the mages. “I love you, Father.”

He smoothed her hair back and smiled. “And I love you, Little Feather.”

The energies around them stirred, as Moonflute gathered himself to build the portal.

Heartsblood kissed her father quickly and turned to embrace Sunstar. Wippoorwill’s accusing stare stopped her hasty retreat. Anyone could have read the unspoken words, ‘You are abandoning me’ in his eyes. Heartsblood took his hands and bent down to his eye level.

“Ke’chara’leshy’a, you know I would give my right arm to say here with you.”

He refused to look her in the eye. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

“But you do not need me anymore. You are nearly grown now, with your own bondbirds and your own special Gift. You are quick becoming a great warrior, and you don’t want your sister running after you with a warm cloak and a handkerchief anymore.”

“What if I don’t want to be a scout anymore?!” he shouted angrily, meeting her gaze.

Heartsblood drew a pained breath, as she struggled to isolate his anger and send it out of her. “Then you will be the best at whatever you choose to do.”

Whippoorwill’s eyes welled with tears.

“You know I will always love you. And I will come back.” She leaned forward to kiss him and tasted his hot, salty tears on her lips.

Now it is your job to take care of Father, she mindspoke him privately.

I will, he replied gravely. As she stood up, he jumped into her arms in a last heart-

wrenching embrace.

Heartsblood almost dropped him, as the ground disappeared from underfoot for a moment.

The Gate energy flared up and filled the natural archway formed by a giant cleft in the Council Oak.

She was afraid to look at what awaited her on the other side, so she hurried forward and picked up

Oni’s closet, as a hertasi efficiently tossed her bags through.

As she lifted the heavy bird and case, there was movement out of the corner of her eye.

Several of the surrounding bondbirds shrieked, agitated, as Grasshadow trotted forward to follow

Heartsblood through the Gate. She shook her head at him. “I’m sorry Grasshadow, but I cannot

take you with me. I can’t ask such a favor from a whole new Vale, and you do not understand how

far from home this is.”

Mocking laughter twittered in Eaglesight’s contingency. They already thought her daft for

keeping a “dumb animal,” and her attempt to communicate with it only fueled their contempt.

Heartsblood swallowed down her anger at them. She knew Grasshadow was intelligent, but she

could tell he was not going to mind her. She called Whippooriwll, who hurried forward and sat on

the ground, hands outstretched to the stubborn bobcat.

“Heartsblood, I am not laughing.” That was Moonflute, speaking through clenched teeth,

because he could not hold the Gate for much longer.

“I’m sorry,” she said and stepped up to the threshold.

“Wait!” Everyone turned to look at Whippoorwill, who was staring hard into Grasshadow’s

eyes. “He says he has to go with you. He says if you leave him behind, he will travel to the Eagle Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Vale on his own.”

Heartsblood was crumbling inside. She had not wanted to leave her feline friend to begin with. Now it was as if he were calling up all the kills he had shared with her, all the nights he had slept on her bed and comforted her, the times he had saved her life... But what could she do? It was not her choice.

*Bring Fuzzytail,* Oni pleaded from inside his closet.

Heartsblood bit her lip and tried not to notice the hard hearted smiles on Eaglesight’s and

Lionheart’s faces.

“Take the beast,” Grandmother’s voice rang out across the clearing. “I will send a message to their Council in way of an explanation.”

The crowd erupted in angry whispers, and Heartsblood nodded thanks to the shaman before taking the opportunity to leave. She bolstered Moonflute’s reserves with a wave of Healing energy before stepping through the Gate. Grasshadow followed close at her heels.

Pushing back the inevitable nausea that came with stepping through the Gate, Heartsblood quickly forgot about the trouble behind her in exchange for the anxieties of what lay ahead. Then, just as suddenly, there was a polished wood floor beneath her feet. She took a deep breath and looked at the four people standing before her. They were all older than she, three by several years, except for the flamboyantly-dressed, carefully made-up young man dancing impatiently behind the rest. It was not hard to deduce that this was Skyflame, even without Moonflute’s description, for he was trying so hard to catch the Adept’s eye through the Gate, Heartsblood could taste his desperation. He was an architect, so he couldn’t know that Moonflute was blind to everything around him in the Raven Vale, much less the vale through the portal, because of the effort he was putting forth to hold the Gate.

Heartsblood carefully set Oni’s closet on the floor and turned to signal the supportive mages on the other side. The tearful lump in her chest swelled nearly to bursting, as the lines of power holding the Gate quickly flared and went out, leaving behind only the doorway to a narrow balcony, beyond which lay a lush, tropical view of the Eagle Vale. Heartsblood set her jaw and turned back to the others.

Which one of these three older Tayledras was the Healer-Adept? It wasn’t hard to tell, even without mage-sight. The quiet Elder standing just slightly in front of the two women, who felt so much like Blackbird to her Empathy, had to be Winterwolf, the man whom her master had told Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

her of. The plainly-dressed woman on the left had the brisk, orderly feel of most Healers, a subtle aura Heartsblood was very used to after her years in the field. And the last, the woman on the right who was dressed ridiculously in order to impress SOMEone....Heartsblood had to admit the woman was attractive in that acceptable, conventional way, but that high-collared, longer than floor-length robe she wore, not to mention a headdress of firebird primary feathers with a matching bustle, which made her look like some exotic bird herself, was just too much. This woman was obviously the Healer-Adept. Heartsblood was just not cut out for this position. She would never be anything but plain.

Heartsblood took all of this in in less than a moment. With a sudden surge of trepidation, she glanced down to see Grasshadow sitting very obediently at her feet. Tension grew with each successive heartbeat, and Heartsblood found herself looking from one adult to the next, afraid one of them was going to comment on the bobcat’s presence. It seemed ages before Winterwolf stepped forward and took a breath to speak, by which time Heartsblood was clenching her jaw so hard, her teeth were making disturbing cracking noises in protest. Just before the Elder spoke, Oni butted the cupboard doors open with his head and peeked out.

New home, he declared, very matter-of-factly, as he hopped down from his perch and

started across the floor happily. His tone of voice combined with the odd sight of a huge owl

waddling his way around the ekele broke the tension with a huge outburst of laughter from all

present.

Silversong was the first to break off with a stern look . Excuse me, Fledgling. It is daytime, and owls should be sleeping.

Oni flew to her arm and blinked large eyes, innocently. You are Healer? Oni likes Healer . He rubbed his head against her shoulder and trilled and clicked until even Silversong, who knew better, was charmed.

She shook her head, ruefully. “I know I shall regret this.” Silversong strode forward and picked up Oni’s sleep closet. “Elder Winterwolf, if you do not mind, I shall introduce this young owl to the

Healers’ ekeles.” She whirled out the doorway before receiving a reply.

Moonstar stepped forward, knowing an introduction was forthcoming. Rearranging her headpiece for what seemed like the thousandth time-- why wouldn’t these things stay in place?--

She stood trying to ignore Skyflame’s mournful groans in the background. He was looking, forlorn, Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

at the closed Gate terminus, at first with dismay and then with outright sadness and rejection.

Suddenly a muted thump went through the air as he threw himself onto the bed.

Winterwolf accepted Moonstar’s hand on his arm, his face carefully schooled, and his eyes sparkling with mirth. “Heartsblood, may I introduce Moonstar, our Healer Adept, and your teacher.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Heartsblood managed to force out. Her teeth still smarting from the previous grinding.

“Heyla,” Moonstar returned, thinking ‘boy this is going to be tough. Why is she looking at me like I grew a third eye?’

“This is a little strained...” Winterwolf started.

“Could you please leave me to sulk in peace,” Skyflame interrupted.

They all started, having forgotten he was there. Winterwolf rolled his eyes, and motioned the two women toward the door.

“And the bags....” Skyflame pointed, looking too put out at the thought of carrying them himself, in his state.

Winterwolf leaned over and grabbed them, smiling at Skyflame in patronizing way. Then returned to his practiced “council elder” face as he stood. He led the way out the door, and stood near Heartsblood in case she looked down. This wasn’t very high in the tree by Moonstar’s standards, but by his own it wasn’t close enough to the ground.

As they left the relative safety of the ekele, Heartsblood swore to herself that she was not going to show fear, no matter how high they turned out to be. The broad path down the wide branch which led away from the door would have been nothing on the ground, but these few man- lengths up the tree, with no rail made her heart skip a beat. She refused to look at the drop and focused easily enough on the bouncing feathers of Moonstar’s headdress, in front of her nose.

Moonstar was oblivious to Heartsblood’s fear and was walking quite quickly, except when her train got caught on the one knothole, and Heartsblood intent on Moonstar’s headdress stepped on it. Moonstar stumbled and, without her practice of using her magics would have fallen. Upset, she turned quickly and gave Heartsblood a warning glance.

Heartsblood suppressed the snarl that rose in response to the tight stiletto of anger this stranger had just launched at her. She felt stupid enough, having stepped on Moonstar’s robe, because she was too afraid to look down. Taking a deep breath, she wrote it off, attributing the Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

bad feelings to nerves on both sides and a wounded vanity on the foreign mage’s part. She took comfort from the steady presence of Winterwolf behind her, and the rest of the trip down the tree, especially after she’d reached the stairs, where she could brace herself on one side, went smoothly.

At the bottom, Winterwolf took the lead through the well-pruned footpaths of the vale, pointing out the more interesting natural sites along the way. Heartsblood tried to look at everything he indicated, but she was too busy being amazed at Moonstar’s skill for navigating around protruding branches and hanging vines, which would surely have knocked off the headdress and torn the robe several times at hem and sleeve, had Heartsblood been wearing it.

Finally, they reached voorthayshen, a beautifully organically-constructed mass, with walls of silver stone, peppered with big chunks of clear crystal. Hertasi on important errands hurried past them, as they entered the central chamber. It looked to Heartsblood as if they hadn’t even noticed her, but, knowing hertasi, it was only because she was old news by now to them. At the base of the King

Tree, Moonstar again took the lead, but Winterwolf hung back unexpectedly, and Heartsblood paused on the first step.

“Moonstar,” he called, in his gentle, authoritative voice. “This is perhaps not the best idea right now.”

Moonstar’s pretty, heart-shaped face was perplexed, as she stopped halfway to the first landing and looked back to find out what prompted that strange tone in Winterwolf’s voice. Between the two council members stood the Raven’s child, and something about her drew Moonstar’s attention first. Heartsblood was looking up the length of the tree, her eyes following the grainy trunk to where it disappeared into the clouds high above. Now that she Looked for it, Moonstar was suddenly struck with an almost physical blow of fear, which was mirrored in the silver eyes below, as they contemplated the great height.

She rocked back from the force, involuntarily clutching her chest at the abrupt shock.

“Goddess of my mothers!” she exclaimed, all the silk gone from her normally musical voice. “You’re afraid of heights!”

There followed an awful moment in which the world seemed to have stopped moving.

Winterwolf glanced back and forth between the two women, all his amusement over their conflicting personalities gone. The only sound was the trickle of tiny waterfalls into the aesthetically-placed ponds around the large chamber and Grasshadow’s mad chase after a moth. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Heartsblood frowned, stubbornly. She would not deny the truth of Moonstar’s epiphany, but she wished it had not come out so soon. Now, thanks to the Healer-Adept’s big mouth, the whole Vale must know and there was no taking it back. She looked down at her feet and began to climb the wide stairs. She would show them that she could make it to the top of the King Tree anyway; she could deal with her fear.

Moonstar watched as Heartsblood’s fear was pushed aside by indignation, and she stomped up the stairs. Why was Heartsblood being so stubborn? Moonstar could not conceive of a fear of heights, but she did not discount it merely because she did not share it. As a Healer, she understood how serious and disabling such unexplainable phobias could be. One of her peers, growing up in k’Vala, had been deathly afraid of water. With regular treatment from a mind-Healer, he had overcome his fear. So why didn’t Heartsblood want help, now that the secret was out?

As Heartsblood approached, Moonstar Looked more closely at the young woman. What was going through her mind? There were more secrets behind those big, silver eyes. She sensed the anger Heartsblood felt was mild and very immediate. The anger masked shame, no doubt due to the fear which still lurked beneath the surface. None of this told her very much. Moonstar concentrated, trying to peel back these outward emotions. Beyond the fear lay homesickness, more shame, and rejection. Then Moonstar found herself at the edge of a deep well rimmed with pained sadness. The emotions here were so dark and depressing, she felt herself sagging physically. She could not go any closer, but something down there reminded Moonstar of-- old, comfortable barriers slammed into place in Moonstar’s unconscious to cut off that thought before it was fully formed.

Heartsblood had just come even with Moonstar and was preparing to pass by, when she felt a foreign presence inside her. She stopped immediately, her body gone rigid with fear. Her greatest hope and her worst fear were recognized simultaneously in that split second. Her greatest hope: the feelings within her of curiosity and pity were not her own, and she could tell.

Her worst fear: someone else had access to her pain and would try to use it or take it away.

The young Healer-Adept had no trouble guessing who that someone was. She turned on

Moonstar with all the ferocity of a lioness defending her young.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Heartsblood barely stopped herself from lashing out physically. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Caught off guard by the intensity of the younger woman’s emotions, Moonstar realized the danger she was in and quickly stepped out of arm’s reach. She threw up her hands in a warding gesture, and every shield she knew how to build snapped into place reflexively.

Heartsblood was so angry and scared, she could hardly see. No one had ever attempted to examine her like this. “How dare you enter my mind without even asking me?”

She pushed back a wisp of hair that kept getting in her eye and balled her hands into fists.

“You jaded, self-centered, shallow, overdressed firebird! What gives you the right to walk all over other people?!”

Moonstar had been trying to think of a way to calm Heartsblood down and apologize.

Empathy was a difficult Gift to define and limit, unlike Thought-sensing. She had not thought of it as the invasion the young woman was accusing. But this last tirade pushed all the wrong buttons.

She snapped back, “That means a lot, coming from a whining, selfish child who looks plainer than a sparrow!”

Just as the expletives started to fly, Winterwolf’s voice cut through the bickering. “Stop!”

Both women stopped in mid-rant, for his tone of voice was not to be trifled with. “You are both acting like children and embarrassing yourselves for all the Clan to hear.”

He folded muscular arms and met both pairs of eyes in turn. “Moonstar, go to your ekele and calm down. Heartsblood, your guest room is this way.”

He indicated the direction with a sweep of his arm which left no room for argument.

Moonstar gathered up her train and ascended the stairs with as much dignity as she could muster after such an admonition. Heartsblood chewed her lower lip and looked around for

Grasshadow, so she wouldn’t have to meet Winterwolf’s disapproving glare, as she trotted back down the stairs. She found the bobcat sitting quite near her bags at Winterwolf’s feet, vigorously chewing something she would rather not know about.

As soon as she reached the ground, Winterwolf turned and strode off down a side corridor.

He had left her bags where they lay, and she had to struggle to collect them and keep up with him under the weight. The trip was made worse in that Winterwolf didn’t utter one word the whole way.

Heartsblood was panting by the time he finally stopped. Relieved, she dropped her baggage to find they were in a tiny cubicle that seemed to be in the farthest corner of the Vale proper.

The skylight was shaded by giant ferns, but the King Tree was too far away to see. If she listened closely, she could hear the soothing rumble of a waterfall outside. A simple cot took up a third of Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

the small room. Tucked into a large recess at its foot stood an adequate perch already prepared with fresh sand. The wall opposite the cot was taken up by shelves and a large chest. Patterned mosaic tile on the floor lent the room character.

Taking all this in, Heartsblood turned reluctantly to Winterwolf. He held aloft an index finger. “I will only say this once. You are here because I took Blackbird’s word that you were a good hearted young woman with unrealized potential. Do not prove him wrong again.”

He left without waiting for a response.

Heaving a gigantic sigh, Heartsblood dragged herself over to the cot, where her legs finally collapsed. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool stone wall, trying to find one thing that made sense in the whirlwind of events which had led up to this point. She looked down at the ring on her middle finger and wished for the thousandth time since she’d left Valdemar that Kieven could be here with her. She could really use his sense of humor right about now.

Perhaps she was just not cut out for Vale life. Heartsblood shrank from the thought of leaving the

Pelagirs, but maybe the Star-Eyed had been sending her a message with the events that had transpired in the last few moons.

She stretched out on the cot, and Grasshadow came to lie across her feet. Heartsblood did not want to leave her land or her people. She would try her best here, and if nothing changed, then she would consider leaving. The important thing was to control her temper, no matter what that pompous Moonstar did. They would have a long talk about what had happened today. Heartsblood had not been consumed so by anger in years. She promised herself not to give into it again, unless she had considered it long and hard first and found a reason for it. With that resolution, her eyelids grew heavy, and she was asleep before she knew it.

* * *

Moonstar climbed the branches, and escaped into the relative safety of her ekele, allowing herself to slam the door and stomp around her small ekele several times. She realized this was childish, but it allowed her to work off the anger, before sitting and working through her thoughts.

Then she noticed that the table was set and that Em, as efficient as ever, had prepared her evening meal. She sat and ate, and chewed viciously.

“That self-pitying little... How dare she speak to me like that!” Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Hot waters? Kearie’s mind voice was calming.

Moonstar smiled, in spite of herself. Her marsh hawk was older, probably nearing the end of his years. He had been her bondbird for over 20 years. He didn’t hunt much anymore, but he knew her so well to offer up the best advice.

Moonstar counted to ten, took a deep breath. She hoped Heartsblood had retired for the night. She didn’t want to run into the younger Adept so quickly after that last parley of quick wit.

Right now they both needed some space.

She ripped off the headpiece and took satisfaction in hearing some small beads scatter across the floor. She took off her long robes and slipped into a leather tunic and leggings. She shook out her hair, and started brushing it out. That action itself was time consuming and therapeutic. Once she felt she could be seen in public again, she walked to the door.

Thank you , she sent to Kearie, her mind awash in the love of the wise bird, and gratitude.

He fluffed up his feathers at the compliment paid. Then settled himself to a more

comfortable position, and curled his head under his wing for a nap.

Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

The Cost of Freedom

Kendra J. Renaud

Keera walked through Almeir, the "City of Mages." She stopped in front of her favorite establishment. “The Puppet's King," the sign hanging loosely from the front beam. It depicted an

Order of the Elements symbol hanging on strings from a heavenly cloud and lightning burning through it all. The sign’s scorch mark was real and still smelled of heat and anger. A Cleric of that

Order had been arrested and charged with attempting to burn down a public establishment.

The elven mercenary shook her pouch, hearing the reassuring sound of jingling coins. Keera had more than enough money to hire all the establishment’s entertainers for herself. Now that was a thought. She closed her eyes, sighing with pleasure, remembering the size of the beds and rooms.

The hire-sword realized with chagrin the rooms were only spacious enough for three or four people at once.

Keera was often a patron at The Puppet’s King, at least as often as her increasingly busy schedule allowed. The border skirmishes to the north and the looming war in the east kept her income plentiful but her free time to a premium.

She glanced through the large front window and stared at the newest acquisition on prominent display. The hire-sword had seen much, but never anyone or anything such as this. The new girl was slender and nearly seven feet tall. Her hair quite literally fell in a mane, and her neck hair fell loosely upon her breasts. The girl’s pelt was black with leopard patterning of cream and sable. The creature’s eyes were exotic and catlike, silver blended with green. Her pointed tufted ears flickered this way and that. She sat in a cage hanging from the ceiling, obviously untamed, and lashing out at anyone who came too close. Her fingertips ended in nails that seemed to flex. It was as if someone had harnessed the power of the Far Southern cat and impossibly bred it with a humanoid.

Keera's pulse quickened. Near her seventieth year in the Mercenary Guild, her elven body was young, lithe and tight of one who sees strenuous work regularly. She ran a hand through her short blonde hair across the newest scar that had nearly killed her. The seven-inch reminder of a broadsword to the north marked her skull just behind her pointed ear. Her green eyes reflected Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

back in the glass as the smoke of a nearby patron clouded the scene.

Keera stepped away from the window into the waiting warmth of smoke, warm food and draft inside. The smell of too many bodies in one place, as well as the entertainers’ want and readiness to please all comers flooded the hire-sword's sensitive nose. The music of the lone, chained bard was mostly ignored. Most of the entertainers here were owned, for slavery was not frowned upon in Argonost. The main entertainment of this night was rowdy betting concerning the tavern’s latest attraction.

"Do you like her?" the large man asked, greeting Keera with a kiss. It was the kiss of a past lover who hadn't completely gotten over things.

Keera pushed him from her gently. "You knew I would, Raven. Where is she from?"

Raven bore a scar from a whip across the left side of his face, and wasn’t to be dissuaded so easily. He stepped into her again, if only to breathe the answer into her ear. "She is from

Cirenous, farther than even you have traveled, my friend. Come to my bed tonight."

"You will never understand me, though you believe you may." Her voice was edged in anger and filled with the thinly veiled threat.

He retreated. "I will love you."

"You will fail, and you will be too long alone." Her words were gentle now. She pitied him in his misguided feelings. Humans were frail that way. Show them the ways of the world, and they offered their souls on a platter.

Raven dropped his eyes. "Jewell would speak with you as well. The caged beauty is not for rent this night."

"She knows where I will be."

Keera walked to her regular table. The cage was coincidentally placed close enough to it

that she could smell the fear of the creature.

A large group of dwarves had already settled themselves at her table. Six of them and half

again as many entertainers occupied what Keera thought as rightfully hers. Seeing the elven hire-

sword approach, the entertainers were nervous. They had all felt the brunt of her anger before

and were visibly skittish.

Keera stood before the table, between the dwarves and the creature they had come to taunt.

"Move now. We haven't the money to hire any more." The largest one said it in thickly Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

accented Argonish, the universal world tongue.

Keera loosened her sword and leaned forward against the well-worn table. "Sewer rat, you are at my table. I advise you and the other vermin to find a hole and crawl into it."

"Just who are you calling sewer rat?" exclaimed a powerfully built dwarf, leaping up from the table, dagger in hand.

Keera's sword was out before he had spoken. "I also said crawl into a hole."

"Talking was your first mistake, sharp ears," he said as he swung. He was on the right end of the table and scored a lucky hit, grazing her left side.

Keera brought her sword down and across, spilling the dwarf's intestines onto the table.

She brought the weapon up through his rib cage and neck, splashing blood liberally onto the table and entertainer sitting near him. Her weapon flashed in the firelight and in the next instant through another dwarf. She stopped in mid-swing, so as not to continue through another slave.

The dwarves enraged that two of their number had been dispatched so easily, roared a battle cry to their heathen god. As one, the dwarven party stood as the entertainers dove to the floor as the bar filled with the sound of steel sliding from sheaths all other noise ceased.

Keera ducked as one of the remaining dwarves jumped at her. He flew over her head and against the bars of the cage, his strangled cry of fear suddenly cut short. Keera didn't dare turn; she had seen the claws of the creature and could vividly imagine what they would do to a body that small. Her opponents, however, did see, turned white, and fled.

"Need you kill someone every time you come in here, hire-sword?" Jewell's voice was cold and angry.

Keera turned to face Jewell, the Mistress of the house, standing well out of reach of her newest slave. She stood tall for a human woman and was broad in the shoulders. She wore an emerald colored satin gown, laces drawn tight over her large breasts, and snug against her equally large hips. Jewell’s brown eyes were knowing and cold, at once penetrating and appraising. Her brown hair was long, straight, and pulled tightly back, causing her face to look very severe. She wore a necklace of precious and semiprecious jewels that was worth a small kingdom. Keera doubted King Tillius's crown was half so ornate.

The dwarf's body had become a bloody pulp. The occupant looked pleased with herself and meticulously licked the blood from her fur.

"I didn't kill that one," Keera said, motioning to the gore beneath the cage. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

"And the other two?" Jewell asked impatiently.

"They tried to kill me first."

"You know the penalty for killing. You also owe me for some damaged merchandise you left last time you were here. You owe me…" she trailed off, tallying. "I think sixty silvers should cover it."

Keera's jaw dropped at the mention of the sum. "That's ridiculous! An evening with the entertainers only costs five silvers and loss of life is covered by the Guild."

"The Guild may not cover your losses any longer, hire-sword. Not after I have my word with them. I am quite sure they already find you too expensive. Those entertainers you nearly killed had been out of work for some time. Either you pay the sum, now, or you are no longer welcome here."

Keera looked at the door, then at the exotic new entertainer. Grudgingly, the mercenary counted out the sixty silvers, nearly emptying her pouch. The remainder was barely enough left to hire one entertainer, never mind the prize she really desired.

Jewell motioned for the house slaves to clean Keera's table; they did so quickly and quietly.

Their eyes were blank as they went efficiently about their business. Keera knew that once upon a time they had their own will, but Jewell took it from them with what little magic she knew.

Keera sat and gazed at the caged beauty, her muscles rippling under her pelt. The warrior watched the creature pace the cage that was barely two paces across in each direction. The Ciren cat looked at Keera once. Keera was unnerved by the beauty's fierce intelligence.

Much later, Keera again became aware of the time. She decided to save up her silvers and come back when she had money enough to hire the spotted beauty. Leaving a handful of coppers on the table to pay for the draft, she left to find a cheaper room elsewhere.

* * *

Keera awoke the next day to a pounding on the door of her rented room. She stood and slid a gray tunic over her head. Rolling up her sleeves, she opened the door.

Raven was standing there, looking desperate. "Jewell must speak with you."

"I didn't hire anyone last night, so whoever broke one of Jewell's entertainers, I didn’t do

it." Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Raven paled. "Keera, we know you didn't do anything. She wants to hire you."

"I am not an entertainer, and furthermore I am not that desperate for work."

"Keera." His voice was pleading now, the love in his eyes overflowing.

Impatiently, she slapped him. "I will never be yours. What does Jewell want to hire me for?"

Raven brought a hand up to cover the pink handprint that had blossomed on his cheek. "The caged beauty has escaped."

Keera’s eyes widened with surprise. "How?"

Raven shrugged. "Jewell went to feed her this morning, and she wasn't there."

The hire-sword glanced around the room for her black leather trousers. She ignored

Raven's hungry glance as the smooth leather slid easily over her thighs. She strapped on her sword belt quickly and pushed her feet into her boots.

"Let's go."

They walked quickly through the streets and strode purposefully into The Puppet's King.

Jewell was standing next to the bar, waiting for them.

"Raven has told you what I need?" Jewell rarely wasted time with pleasantries.

Keera looked at the empty cage. The elven warrior walked over to it and inspected the lock;

it was not scratched or broken. She stepped into the cage and looked out; she took a deep breath

and smelled the heavy musk of the creature and the strong soap that servants were using to scrub

the floors and tables. The hire-sword examined the lock from inside the cage and she reached

around the bars to the mechanism, trying to imagine how the beauty had done it.

Keera was intrigued and decided she would take the job. She stepped out and walked to the

bar.

"This creature seems very intelligent--" Keera began.

"Nashota," interrupted a slender effeminate man. He seemed ready to go on until a shove

from Raven sent him sprawling.

"She was not speaking to you, Nightwind."

"Na-- what?" the warrior asked Nightwind, holding up a hand to stay any further harm from

Raven.

Nightwind shook his head to clear it, rubbing his chest where he had been pushed. "Her

name is Nashota. At least that is what the Traders called her." Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

"Nashota," Keera rolled the name off her tongue, loving the feel of it in her mouth. "I think

I will charge you a mere one hundred gold, and ten free evenings with her once I return her."

If Jewell was surprised that Keera was asking a king's ransom, she did not show it. She merely shook her head. "I paid less than that buying her."

"So buy a new toy."

The matron's eyes narrowed. "I will pay you ten gold and one free evening."

Keera considered this. It took nearly one hundred silvers to match one gold but Cirenous was far across the southern sea. It was unlikely Jewel would ever be able to replace her. "Fifty gold and five free evenings."

Jewell ran her hand across her necklace and looked at Raven. She looked across the tables at the bard sleeping near the cold embers of the fireplace and back to Keera. "I will pay you thirty gold in jewels and three nights. That is my final offer. If you do not accept, I will take this offer to the Guild and we shall see how many applicants that I have."

Keera smiled broadly as she held out her hand to seal the deal. "Done."

The warrior did not miss the unhappy look in Raven's eye that she had accepted the job, or the look of guilt as he glanced at the cage. Luckily for him, she thought that Jewell was looking into her eyes, away from him, or his life would be worth little, regardless of his nearly twenty years of faithful service to this house.

* * *

Keera walked through the streets toward the Mercenary Guild, half-staring down alleyways in hope of seeing the beautiful fleeing creature. Of course, now it was midmorning, and the beauty would be likely far past the well-patrolled city boundaries. Argonost was the biggest nation on the continent, with the strongest and most stable government. It was unlikely that a fleeing slave would be able to stay for long even in the Great Forest southeast of the city.

Would the Ciren go to the eastern Elven country of Breisis? Keera wondered as she walked up the last few steps. Or would the great cat settle in the northern steppes of Laurellium?

"So, Lieutenant, you have returned from your furlough a few days early? Do you wish to join a company or do some independent work?" A medium-sized human in his late forties had asked the questions. He was the oldest human mercenary known to the Guild, missing his left eye and most of Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

his right foot. Due to his age and his obvious handicaps, he had long since retired to administrative

duties. His dark brown hair was slicked back and shiny. He wore a gray cotton tunic and breeches

in excellent if not new condition.

"Ferric, I have accepted a job offer from Jewell of The Puppet's King as bounty hunter.

Her new attraction has escaped. I have accepted an offer of thirty gold to retrieve it." Keera

decided to keep the part of the deal concerning free nights to herself.

Ferric's one good eye widened. "Thirty gold? For one assignment? Make sure that ten

percent of that reaches the treasurer when it is collected."

Keera smiled. "Of course. Have you seen Bela? I heard he was on leave when I reached

town last week."

Ferric's pen was anxiously scribbling the new contract for the records and he hardly looked

up as he answered. "He is staying at the Golden Swan."

* * *

The thin, wiry elven man walked casually down the stairs into the common room. His green

eyes scoured the area for anything remotely dangerous. His hands busily drew his hair into a

ponytail and out of his face. He was wearing leather armor, but his demeanor relaxed somewhat

when his eyes came to rest on Keera. He rushed down the rest of the stairs and walked quickly to

her table.

"Well, my sweet, how goes things for you? Have you relaxed?"

"Bela, it's time you were about. I have been sitting here for nearly two hours." Her voice

was filled more with amusement than anger.

"Why did you not find me?"

"The innkeeper apparently was paid well to keep your room number a secret."

Bela laughed. "You apparently couldn't pay him well enough to part with it?"

"That, too."

"Jewell gets more of your money each time, doesn't she?"

Keera sighed. "I came to ask for your help. You are the only merchant marine I know."

Bela's expression turned serious. "What have you to ask?"

"Have you gone as far as Cirenous? In the far south?" Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

"I have been on all five seas, and, yes, I have been to Cirenous. A dangerous place--the

Cirens don't like to trade with many. This last trip, I am sorry to say, the Traders captured a beautiful Ciren female and sold her just as we returned…" His voice trailed off and his eyes narrowed. "Keera, I expect this has to do with Nashota, doesn't it?"

She nodded. "I have been contracted to bring her back to Jewell."

He smiled. "It is well she escaped. She belongs in a cage about as much as the Laurellium nomads do."

"You know her? You can speak her language?"

"I know enough to know her name. She knows much more Argonish than I could ever hope to learn of her language."

Keera's mind reeled. "She speaks!"

"And she fights like a fury. We lost four marines catching her and several more transporting her from the dock to Jewell. I wish you luck in trying to return her." His eyes softened and his tone became casual. "Be careful, my sweet. Tracking her will be no easy feat."

"Thank you, Bela." She leaned forward and kissed him.

He grabbed her hair and held her to him a moment longer before letting go.

* * *

It was late afternoon before Keera was ready to leave Almeir. She had collected her horse from the stable, as well as gear for an extended trip. She loaded it onto her mount with the emergency rations for the two of them.

The bay stallion was one of her prized possessions. The large stallion was a sturdily built and just over sixteen hands in height. A gift from her latest commander, the horse had come from the magically enhanced breeding stables of Queen Angelin of Laurellium. He was bred and trained for the frontlines of any battle, though his real value came from the longevity of the line. His dam had been able to carry her rider in service for nearly thirty-five years and his father nearly forty years. For a race as long lived as Keera's, it was a relief not to have to worry about breaking in a new animal every ten or fifteen years or so. His name, Auradril, meant "great glory" in her native tongue.

Keera left the city by the West Gate, the usual route by land that any fleeing slave took. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

She rode quickly though the streets of Newtown, its houses being outside the stone walls of

Oldcity. No signs of her prey were immediately evident, so the mercenary rapidly left civilization behind. She wheeled south toward the mountains and woods of the Great Forest—the most likely place her quarry would first find refuge.

She only slowed when she reached the deep forest that the bravest farmers had not yet

plowed under. Keera knew stories of mage-changed creatures that had escaped from the Mages’

College. The escapees had become feral and changed still more in breeding with the local wildlife.

Keera had seen several of the strange creatures and once nearly died at one beast's hands. It had

been quite literally hands, of a monkey with a long neck of a hunting dog, and a bushy mane of a lion.

The warhorse pranced skittishly at every sound. He recognized the woods and remembered

the attack as well. He pulled at the reins to hurry along.

Keera held him back, her night-vision growing accustomed to the dim light of evening. She

was carefully searching the trail for any sign of the Ciren. She refused to think of the creature by

her name. The trained mercenary knew the only way to get by in this job was to keep the enemy

beneath you.

Keera abruptly halted her horse. "What do we have here?" She leapt down, motioning him

to stay with a quick hand gesture.

Caught on a slim branch was a tuft of sable fur. Keera pulled the tuft free and brought it

to her nose. A heavy familiar musk invaded her senses. The elf scanned down the deer trail and

reached for the reins.

Auradril followed as she led him winding through the brush.

Looking up, Keera noticed the moon was just past the horizon. The Ciren had been running

for nearly seventeen candlemarks, by the warrior's estimate. The hire-sword knew her quarry had

to be getting tired. Keera stepped lightly, trying to keep noise to a minimum.

Sometime later, she discovered a hollow worn away under some brambles where countless

deer had slept over many generations. Keera highly doubted any more deer would ever sleep there.

Squirrel skin and bones were left on the side and a bit of blood where it had splattered and a few

tufts of fur. The blood was dried, and it must have been several candlemarks past that the Ciren

stopped. The clearing was wide enough for the stallion. Keera pulled the tack from the horse and

motioned to Auradril that they were staying.

The mercenary unfurled her bedroll and pulled some dried jerky from her rations. As her Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

saliva worked its way into the meat she considered Nashota's path.

The horse shifted nervously. A snort of warning came as something jumped onto her from the trees.

Keera pushed up as hard as she could. It was too heavy. She started gasping for air.

The monster screamed and rolled off of her.

Auradril still half-reared and screamed a challenge. Auradril had been well trained—he would not charge an opponent who was engaged in melee with his owner.

In the moment of confusion Keera managed to grab her sword and stand. As they squared off, she appraised her opponent. It was the size of a large bear, with a long tail it was using for balance. Its hair was dapple light gray on a darker background, making its movements hard to track in the darkness. Its claws were easily twice the size of the largest bear she had ever seen. It had a bright white College tattoo against the gray of its hind left leg. The eyes glowed an eerie yellow- green light.

Keera feinted low and thrust high toward its chest. To her horror the sword skittered across its hide, doing no damage. She threw her sword away and grabbed her belt knife while stepping backwards. She drew it and lunged forward, her weight knocking the monster off balance.

It growled and squirmed trying to dislodge her.

The mercenary held the hilt with both hands and drove the knife down praying to the

Mother that the merchant was correct in its magical ability. There was a sickening sound as the knife slid easily through the fiend's neck and lodged between vertebrae. Its blood burned her hands and its smell caused her eyes to water.

The warrior jumped off just as the beast started to burn. She poured water from her canteen onto her hands to soothe the burn and into her eyes to wash away the sting.

Auradril was still snorting and pawing the ground restlessly.

"You're right. I think we better go before we find out if it reproduced."

* * *

Keera knew she was close to her prey. The air was thick and humid and the earth moist.

Even so, Keera knew this print was less that a candlemark old. Kneeling over it, she could see the water pushed from the earth by the Ciren's foot still pooled in the heel print. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Auradril whickered and shook his head. Far from his native northern Laurellium grasslands, the jungle forests of the south were not to his liking.

Keera wiped the sweat from her brow. "I agree. I would like to go back north too. But we have to get the Ciren first."

Auradril heaved a sigh and stepped closer to Keera.

The mercenary jumped into the saddle and trotted along the track. Before long the horse's paces started to slow, as the mud became wetter and ankle deep. The tracks were fresher. Keera looked up from the trail.

She caught sight of the creature, dodging between trees in her quest to avoid the hire- sword. The mercenary urged her tired mount into a trot.

When they came abreast of the creature, Keera jumped and landed on her quarry.

There was an angry scream from the great cat as the Ciren landed face first in the mud.

Nashota struggled to push Keera off her back.

Keera tried unsuccessfully to dodge the creature's claws. As the hire-sword reached for

the manacles, the Ciren raked deep furrows in Keera's left leg. The bone showed plainly in the four

parallel rents.

The creature screamed in frustration as her hands were locked behind her back in the

manacles. She arched her back and pushed up.

Keera flew to one side, landing against a tree. She felt her whole body cry out against the

impact that left flashing stars in her vision. Desperately she shook her head trying to clear it. The

motion made the world spin and the stars dance. As it slowed, Keera emptied her stomach. She

felt little better and slowly stood. As her vision cleared, she noticed the creature had fled,

apparently only caring for her freedom. The elf’s leg started burning when she shifted her weight.

The mercenary called Auradril to her. Keera looked into her saddlebag and dug through it

until she found the bandages, thread and needle. She grabbed the rum-filled wineskin before

sitting up again. She poured it freely into her wounds, not caring that she screamed. The hire-

sword knew that stopping an infection was vitally important, because it would be far more dangerous

than the wound itself. The pain fueled her anger at the creature and made her more determined

than ever. Being this close to her goal, she was determined to get the creature before sundown.

Taking deep and even breaths, she threaded the needle and started on the first cut.

Keera was accustomed to traveling alone, and so always carried the necessary supplies to Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

sew herself back together. This was not the first time, though admittedly the worst, that she had to do so. She wrapped the wound as tight as she dared and then pulled herself onto her horse.

"Next time, I think I will use the net," the mercenary said wearily.

Auradril nickered a reply and seemed to nod at her comment. He doggedly trotted down the trail. It was less than a candlemark later when they overtook the fleeing slave again. She was covered in mud, and her hands were still manacled.

Keera pulled the net from the saddlebag and swung it over her head, ignoring protests from her injured leg. She flung the net expertly over Nashota, capturing her for the second time.

The more the creature fought the more entangled she became. The Ciren cried out in her own fluid tongue. She stopped moving as the net constricted around her.

The hire-sword dismounted and cautiously approached the entangled prisoner. She once again pulled a set of manacles from her pack and locked the second set around the creature's ankles. She couldn't resist stroking the creature's beautiful pelt, running her fingers through the silky softness. A low growl brought her attention back to the task at hand. Slowly, methodically the mercenary pushed and untangled the net from the creature.

Keera suddenly saw a flash of fur, as the Ciren's hands somehow broke free of their restraints. The warrior felt claws rake against her ribs and the blood start flowing onto her leather armor. Ignoring the new searing pain as well as that from her leg, she pinned the Ciren onto the ground, its hands pinned behind. Keera couldn't see the wounds across her chest well enough to judge the depth. With her last reserve of strength, she pulled an extra set of leggings from her pack and clutched them tightly against her new injuries. She considered charging Jewell extra for the injuries as unconsciousness swept over her.

* * *

Keera woke to pain in her ribs and a hugely swelled-up leg. She pushed back her bedroll and unwrapped her wounds. They oozed yellow-green pus. She forced herself to take deep breaths and not panic.

"That doesn't look good." The Ciren's Argonish came out as a lilting purr.

Keera's eyes widened. "Your Argonish is perfect."

"Your wounds are infected." Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

"How is that your concern?" Keera asked her voice gruff. The creature finally spoke to point out the obvious?

"I was the Healer for my tribe," the Ciren said after a long pause. "I could help you."

"Why would you do this?" Keera asked warily.

"For my freedom," the creature said simply.

Keera considered this, at least as much as her pain would allow. If she survived her injuries and let the creature go free, she would be cast out of the Guild at best. At worst the Guild would hunt her down as a traitor. But if she died this would be a moot point. Unfortunately, she had never known of anyone surviving in the jungle with infected wounds without the help of a healer.

Also, the last time she had passed anything resembling a town or village had been well over a week ago.

The mercenary couldn't think of any way out but to accept the creature's offer.

"How do I know you won't run off and leave me to die?"

"I swore an oath by the Great Spirit that I wouldn't leave any wounded creature without

first offering aid." The Ciren's eyes narrowed. "Even a bare skinned barbarian such as you."

Keera's jaw dropped, and she shut it with an audible snap. She dug through her pockets and

drew out the key to the manacles on the Ciren’s ankles. "I will trust you, Nashota."

Her ears flickered back and forth at the sound of her name. "You know my name, barbarian,

but I know not yours."

"Keera," the hire-sword offered with the key.

Nashota rubbed her ankles as the manacles fell away. She stretched as the circulation

returned to her mistreated joints.

* * *

The healer took the simmering herbs from the fire and poured them over a paste she had

prepared. She ground the mixture together and changed the bandages and was happy to see the

swelling was going down. The poultice was still hot but Keera made no move to make the healer

think this process was painful. To show any weakness was unthinkable for the mercenary.

Keera felt sore but ready to travel the question was to where? She had promised the

creature her freedom, but in doing so would lose trust with not only her employer but the Guild, and Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

she had been a member longer than any of the governing body, comprised of humans, had been drawing breath. Unfortunately backing out of a contract was reason to be expelled from the Guild.

The hire sword shifted as the poultice trickled further into her wound causing a burning sensation.

The other option was to pay double the usual 10% fee, another 10% if she wanted them to polish away the blemish to her record. That however, didn’t stop Jewell from sharing the betrayal with her many contacts. The sum of 30 gold pieces however seemed as close as the moon in the sky. Most of her contracts, whether in a company or independently paid closer to 30 silver, it would take nearly 300 silver to equal the same value. Earning that much without a war would take nearly a year, it occurred to the mercenary that Mantros was still at war with Mendin

Mantros was an island off the northern coast of Mendin. The nation formed with dissidents and criminals had declared independence from the strict theocracy of Mendin. The parent nation often attacked the fledgling country in hopes of regaining the rich farmland on the colony. As a result Mantros was very interested in recruiting fighters and…and Keera’s eyes widened as they rested on Nashota…and healers.

That lead the warrior to wonder what the healer’s plans were. She seemed overly afraid of large bodies of water, even smaller ones such as the near by river caused Nashota’s eyes to widen and her ears to twitch uncontrollably. Going back to Cirenous was not a possibility she would be nabbed at any of the large ports going that direction that was if she got over her fear of the water to start with.

* * *

Keera took a deep breath and another as she waited for the Ciren’s answer. It had taken much longer as the healer often stopped the mercenary with detailed questions. After the better part of the afternoon had passed and the last of the suns rays danced passed through the leaves,

Nashota still seemed deep in thought, struggling within herself for an answer.

It felt as if the entire jungle was holding its collective breath waiting for an answer. All

Keera could hear was the thudding of her heart within her throat.

“I will, Barbarian. Until I find my place on this continent that seems as good a plan as any.”

Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Pride Goes before the Fall

Kendra Renaud

Nicabar, the high priest, followed the princess’ gaze to one young man in particular at the bachelor’s table. That young man was not someone Nicabar recognized. Perhaps the young man was one of the nobles from the outer rims of Mesdania. He was dressed finely enough, but there was something about him that Nicabar didn’t like.

If the King Kendrik of Mesdania had not promised him flat out that no mages were admitted to this event for the Nobility, neither he nor the princess would be here. The only true magic was that of the Lord of Beast and Men, of the church. True magic used for the good of the people.

Nicabar had strong misgivings about attending anyway. He had worked hard to make it to his current position as advisor to the king of Mendin. Nicabar wasn’t going to lose his easy life regardless of what the prince wanted. The king was easily persuaded by the church elders to make the laws necessary for the furthering of his country’s souls. The prince was too strong-minded and strong willed for that, and unfortunately, as the young prince was already making powerful enemies within the Church of the Four Quarters.

* * *

Jasper felt suddenly out of place. His clothes, tailored by a servant of the Duke himself, were crafted in his own colors of black and silver. The family emblem of a silver rose was embroidered on the tunic of black across his heart. His platinum blonde hair flowed loose just beyond his shoulders, his dark brown eyes making his face seem very pale. The mage looked up and saw the old man staring at him thoughtfully. He knows, the panicked thought crossing his mind. No, our magic works differently than those gifted to the clerics of any order. Jasper forced himself to not return the stare in a competitive manner.

He glanced out to window, at the corral where the riding beasts were given free run until the festivities were over. A deer looked up; she was the only red deer among the riding beasts. And Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

at a single glance she reassured him. They were soul locked, without her his magic would run wild and likely kill him as well as those around him.

'What am I doing here?' Jasper asked himself again. The king expressly forbade the

admittance of mages to this ball. The king, Kendrick of Mesdania, was trying to make an alliance

with Mendin, the country to the west. The common people knew that the Church of the Four

Quarters, cloaked as advisors, really ran the country.

Tonight, Jasper was Edward, the younger son of a Duke Tenington whose estate was near

the Eastern border of Mesdania. 'If only I hadn’t seen her,' he thought as he glanced up again. She

was staring at him from across the room. He had seen her earlier, as she passed through the

marketplace, where he was buying components for his spells.

The Princess Tasya was on the auction block tonight. 'I am glad that I am not really a noble who has to worry about being chattel to those with bigger dreams,' Jasper thought, 'worrying about parents illusions of grandeur when planning their children’s futures. What a delicate game!

Whom was the child to marry?

Tasya was older than most of the unmarried women, nearly seventeen. Rumor was that

Nicabar, the High Elder of the Church of the Four Quarters, was seeking to further the ambitions of his faith through her. Prince Kiril didn’t like the High Elder and planned to push away from the church's influence.

"Edward, how is your father's cotton this year?"

Jasper turned to face the young man to the left. "Father is worried about the crops of some of the tenant farmers. They aren't working as hard as he had hoped. His knight, Smisoweth, had adopted a more open view of the serfs' ideas and adopted them to the determent of the cotton."

The young man, hardly into his teens, his blue eyes filled with the knowledge of one much older, nodded. "That is as I have heard. The knights should know better by now than to trust the ways and thoughts of those beneath us."

Inwardly, Jasper cringed. Those knights were not educated in planting and it was only through their involvement that the land was over planted and the crops were doing so badly. This entire story he had learned during his last trip to the duke's lands. The clerics of the Mother had told him that there was nothing to be done. But to by rotate the crops, instead of planting cotton every year. The noble didn't believe the clerics put out a large bounty for any mage that could Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

force the land to cotton. Always intrigued by easy wealth, Jasper had lived within the castle walls for a few months. All he could do was provide a temporary fix. Gillie, his familiar, the red deer, had added her energy to his own, and the cotton would make it through this season. Next season not even the legendary Anadril, with his exotic Chasm, the white striped lion, would be able to force the land to a crop the own Mother's clerics had spoken against.

"Excuse me, Master Tenington, the Princess Tasya would like to speak with you." A girl in the colors of Mendin, obviously a lady in waiting to the Princess, had approached. She caught him unaware. He had forgotten the name of the part he was to play. She was a vision in green and blue cotton. Her golden hair fell in a beautiful mane, with her green eyes studied him. The white of her throat looked as if the moon had kissed it and bathed it in the silver sheen of the Goddess herself.

The girl's long lashes brought him back to her eyes, round and innocent. She smelled of frost lilies and linen. Her body seemed to edge in closer and her pouty lips brushed his ear.

"Master Tenington?"

"Jas--" he caught himself just in time. He heard the faint bulging of a deer and the feelings

of alarm not totally his own flashed through his soul.

* * *

Nicabar smiled, seeing the man fumble for words. 'Yasina was a find. She would completely

distract him from the princess.' She was made barren by the Church of the Four Quarters, and so

could be used without fear of bearing illegitimate children. Those for whom the church had explicit

uses could have their seed or nest taken in one of the most secret of rituals, in which the Lord over

Beasts and Men would steal it away. It was not used lightly, for once it was done could not be

undone. She was young when the Church of the Four Quarters had found her. Yasina had been

abandoned on the church steps. It was not an uncommon practice for those with children of

questionable birth. The orphans the church adopted having found on the doorsteps was something

to which the populace turned a blind eye. The church was careful to cultivate thoughts of the

peasants and nobles alike that the priests (for only men could attain rank in the church hierarchy)

could smell the power in children and therefore adopted all whom the Lord had touched. And once a year, to keep up appearances, the church had the priest of the local parishes pick a random child.

The power of the Lord was granted not born within, and then was sent to the church's own schools. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

He also noticed that the man had been surprised and did not respond when she called him by name. Nicabar considered this. That man could be an imposter. The implications swam around his brain. Yasina would be used for more than a messenger this night. When she returned to him, he would ask their Lord and Master to allow him to see through her eyes. This was also against the treaty that was written for this night; however Nicabar worried this man could be more of a problem than he had anticipated.

"That man amuses me," Tasya said all but pointing at the man that was blushing deeply at

her servant. "Bring him to me, for I would have a dance as the music is beginning to play."

"This I have anticipated, my Lady," Nicabar turned his voice to velvet and used it as a

caress. If perhaps he could turn her to him, he was only thirty years her senior and it was not out

of the church's policy to marry especially for one as high ranking as he to one as high ranking as

she. Then, perhaps an assassination of the prince could be arranged, and with his death would come

the rise of king and church. And, of course, a foreigner to blame it on. He looked across the room to

the young Lord Tenington; yes this could prove to be an interesting evening. If only to get the man

and Tasya mixed up in some not so innocent looking circumstance.

* * *

Jasper stood and offered his arm to Yasina, who shook her head and stepped back to walk behind him. He shook his head; he had slipped again. It was common knowledge that women in

Mendin walked behind the men. Except among those nobles of highest rank and except for the princess, even these women walked behind the Elders of the Church. A couple of the young men at the bachelor's table raised an eyebrow; as a duke's son, Edward should have known better than to offer his arm to a servant.

Damn Cassius, Jasper thought. If only the thief hadn't dared him to get into this ball. He was just imagining the look on the thief's face as he kept slipping up. Gillie's thoughts were trying to reach though him and touch his mind with horror that he dared to walk up to a princess. Much less Tasya, sitting next to the Elder of the Church of Four Quarters. Of course, Gillie had been against this from the start. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

'Breathe slowly and deeply. You are now Edward, and you belong here. You are a duke's son,

if only for tonight.' His ego started puffing up his confidence. 'A princess wants to dance with you,

and why not? You are the best looking mage here.'

Gillie's worries broke through if only a little. 'You are the only mage here.'

It was not long before he stood before Tasya. In the light she was even more beautiful than

her servant. The Princess was slim as a willow, which was out of fashion now as only poor women who

could not afford to eat were slim. Her slimness probably made it a little harder to find suitors. Her

dress was cut to make her hips look wider, and he guessed she was wearing no fewer than ten

petticoats. But despite all attempts to the contrary, she looked thin. A light flush colored her

cheeks softening the defined cheekbones. Her gray eyes sparkling in the flickering light of the gas

lanterns upon the wall. Her thin lips opened in a smile. The deep emerald of her gown shimmered in

the light of satin of the far south. The gown served to cover her breasts. And yet, where he knew

would be a hollow between them, lay a very large sapphire dangling on a nearly invisible silver

thread. Upon her brow was a simple circlet of gold, the ends of which were lost in her sandy brown

hair. Her hair was braided with crystals and precious gems, which chimed when she bowed her head

in acceptance of him as a dance partner. His sparse, lean frame towering over her by nearly a foot.

She is the one who should be taller, Jasper thought, and she seemed so unaware of the height

difference.

He led her to the dance floor, feeling grateful of the parties and balls he had been to in the

past. Jasper effortlessly glided the appropriate distance apart to the ballad that had been written

in her honor by the exotic Kazmyra. The bard was in private employ of the king himself. It was

rumored theirs was more than a professional relationship. What else was there in Mesdania for the

gossips to wonder about?

He did not slip up in her presence.

* * *

Nicabar used their dance to make his move. He spoke quickly and quietly to Yasina. She was an eager thing; those whom the Church used for these devious endeavors were often well rewarded.

Yasina followed the elder out when he excused himself, and she was excited when his prayer to the Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Lord of Men and Beasts was heard and she felt Nicabar in her mind as well. He was to catch Lord

Edward Tenington as a fool.

* * *

Much later, Jasper rushed to the garden, trying not seem too eager. The mage knew he was failing miserably and didn't care. The princess invited him for a tryst in the garden. Yasina had brought him the message and used her body language to explain exactly what was wanted.

'Thank you, Cassius,' his thoughts turned. 'I am so glad I accepted this dare; who would boast to whom about conquests tomorrow?'

Sitting in the middle of the garden, her gown settled around her like a moss of satin, the princess looked much smaller, vulnerable. The smile touched her eyes as she faced him. "Well, met

Lord Tenington."

"Milady. Do they not sleep in your country? The dawn is a sigh upon the horizon, and still you

look as fresh as the morning dew." The practiced words found his tongue and flowed like honey.

Women of the aristocracy were often left to their own devices during the many hunting parties

that lasted up to a month, when their men folk just as often filled their own vices as their hunting

bags. This was a scene that had been played out many times in Jasper's years.

She blushed as if she had not heard it before; this too was part of the ritual. "Truth be

told, milord, I napped in the afternoon."

Jasper gaped at her- that was not the proper line. Perhaps she wasn't as practiced. At this

he was more excited; he was to show her what a man was to be. He felt his clothes become a bit

snug in the familiar areas. Jasper knelt beside her, tentatively cupping her jaw. She didn't tense

nor did she pull away. Was she surprised at his audacity, or at the fact that he knew what she

wanted and needed? He leaned in for a kiss. His lips but brushed hers, and suddenly his head was

ringing. She nearly fell trying to stand and push him away at the same time.

She had slapped him.

He found himself lying back upon the grass wet with dew where she had pushed him. She

stood suddenly, color high in her cheeks with anger. In that moment Jasper felt his world slip away

from him. He knew that he was going to die. Everything slowed down. The world took on a dreamlike

quality as she screamed. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

"Guards! This peasant has assaulted me! Nicabar, help! He no longer amuses me. Guards!

Guards!" Her voice was shrill in shock and fear.

Nicabar had been watching the entire event from a nearby hedge. He had used his position

within Yasina to set this very incident up, an embarrassing international incident. He threw himself

onto Jasper, who was still on the ground, unmoving. "You, young man, will die or wish you had."

* * *

"I don't believe it. You kissed her really?" Cassius must have asked him that half a dozen times in the last few days.

"Damn it, Cassius, if you ask me again I really will kill you."

"And if it hadn't been for those papers I had pinched from Duke Tenington, proving you were the duke's son. You would have been executed for an imposter?" He put his fingers into his suspenders. "And now the great Cassius will accept the washing of the feet for one whose life means nothing without him."

"It still might. You know that the king is sending a delegation to the duke and we have got to move before the response reaches here. I was just getting used to living in the capital again."

Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Virendril

By Kendra J. Renaud

Virendril brushed her golden hair out of her eyes, again, and briefly considered a haircut, again. She looked into her ale, and saw her startling green eyes take on a subdued hue in the dark liquid. She noticed a couple of darker spots which should have been cleaned off the last time the innkeep washed the mug. She took another swallow and questioned again why she was adventuring, why she was leaving the safety of the monastery. It would have been easier to continue with her prayers and wrap herself in the warm blanket of faith that was interrupted only by studying in the chilly library.

Her parents after the tragic loss of their youngest daughter had returned to the seclusion of the Elven forests, and after that loss, Viren realized it would be better for her to stay. While her parents never harbored any ill will or blame to her, Viren had yet to forgive herself. Viren swallowed back the lump in her throat, it had been years, when the pain and guilt stop? Lane, his dark eyes still smoldered in her heart, he from that day had told her that Pelor had great plans for her, that this wasn’t her fault. It always came back to him, and trying to escape those feelings by filling them with distance. Guilt, more than anything guilt seemed to rule her life at present. Her eyes traveled over her companions, how many of them had dirty, guilty secrets. She shut them out by closing her eyes, she sighed. Each of them she had touched with her God’s hand, each of them she had Healed and she knew she still held Pelor’s trust, even though she was as yet unsure why.

She felt completely unworthy to be his vassal and at the same time incredibly filled with love for the God. She only wished her physical body’s needs weren’t so strong. She sighed again, and noticed with dismay her mug was empty. She looked around and met the waitress’ eyes and motioned to her mug. As the new one appeared she gave the waitress a small blessing and was rewarded with an ear to ear smile.

Her thoughts traveled back to Lysandril as she picked up the mug again. Viren’s younger sister was younger; she had barely reached her 10 th year. A blink as far as her parents was

concerned. Viren knew her parents were hoping for another child and she added her prayers to Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

theirs nightly. As of yet there was no promise, no sign and no baby. The cleric quickly wiped a tear away, happy for the fading light filtering into the Inn.

Viren had seen many humans. The town, the monastery was outside of was predominately human after all, but for some reason his combination of features and closeness to her age and interests had grabbed her attention when they first met. Lane, his deep brown eyes were different than her own, round to her almond. His black hair fell into his eyes, the son of a merchant was sent to the monastery for schooling. He was learning history from her father, and they had other classes together but it was their love of history that inspired the friendship that started it all.

They had been friends a few of years when the incident happened.

It was going to be their first great adventure. Lane was nearly sixteen, fearless, and his frame was starting to show the man he was maturing into. He was one of the few humans that was able to match Viren’s height. He had just reached six feet tall though was a sturdier build than her slight 5’10” height, and he easily outweighed her by 4 stone. Viren was a year older at seventeen and should have known better. She always felt safe near Lane, looking back she realized it must have been his build that made him seem like a huge warrior to her. She had watched him in the practice rings where he was learning to defend himself with a Quarterstaff, she could not hope to match him and felt it must be the same way in the wide world. She rarely left the monastery and when she did it was just for a trip to the market to see if any new books had come with the traders that gathered in the square once a month. She would never have left the relative safety of the square on her own.

Lane wanted to check out some of the seedy parts of town and had heard through a friend of a friend of a friend that there was a merchant that sold rare animals he had “found” in the wilds.

That was all Lysandril had to hear, and she was hooked. Her parents had felt that their youngest daughter was chosen for a ranger path since she was born. She had learned to walk early to chase after the cats that always seemed to fill the barn, and she learned to ride soon as she figured out how to climb up onto the old plow pony that was in residence. By 10 she had learned to track any of the cats she wanted to cuddle with. Viren couldn’t see the different in the prints and generally didn’t even see the prints until her sister pointed them out.

Lysandril felt it was unfair to capture animals in the wild and turn them into pets. She felt it was their sacred duty to free any of the animals this merchant had. It didn’t take much to talk her older sister and friend into the excursion. And it was market day when they headed into town. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

They wandered from stall to stall, grabbing meat pies and sweets, which was as far as their stipend would take them. After their snacks they stopped by the water trough a nearby tavern to rinse the stickiness from their hands and faces.

Moving through the back alleys became a blur as Lane seemed sure of where he was going at first and then moved a bit slower as they moved to darker areas and he lost his sense of direction.

That was of course when it happened. Viren had been holding Lysandril’s hand and followed less sure of Lane than she had been earlier, and fear had her trembling though her sister was still following

Lane with the hero worship that seemed to affect all younger siblings. Viren started trembling a few minutes before the men stepped from the shadows and pulled her sister from her.

The resulting shriek, still woke Viren from a dead sleep, reaching for her holy symbol and wishing her heart would just burst from her chest and get it over with.

“What have we here,” the man’s voice grated against her as his filthy hands pulled her to him. She felt every part of his body tense against her as he stroked her face then her hair in turn.

She didn’t think just reacted as she simultaneously head butted his face and brought her knee up as hard as she could into his groin. He grunted as he fell, blood spurting from his nose and his hands reaching for his pained pride. She took two steps back to see her sister already slumped over and Lane reaching for her hand.

She wasn’t sure what had happened there was a blur after that. She remembered the clerics over her, she remembered the thick liquid that kept her fuzzy headed as she was told about her sister. She remembered throwing herself against the hands that held her as if her running to her sister’s room would prove the whole thing a lie. She remembered more restraints. She remembered the clerics telling her parents she had been a little Touched by the incident, and they would watch over her.

The awful truth she accepted sometime later reading it in Lane’s haunted eyes. She saw he was only sleeping with the help of the clerics’ thick liquid as well. She clung to him as they both cried, wracked with guilt.

Viren came back to herself slowly, she walked to her sister’s grave nearly daily, kneeling near the headstone, apologizing, praying, and cursing herself for not being a better protector. She prayed for the best course of action against those who had wronged her, sometimes she prayed for vengeance, sometimes for guidance, and most of all that those that were injured by them had a better fate than her sister. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Lane had finished lessons and was in a full apprenticeship with his father learning how to keep the books for the caravans of fabrics and silks that came and went, for the payroll of those they employed. However, he still managed to see her at least twice a week and Viren was content.

Often they would sneak away into the hollow on the far end of the flax fields, hidden from prying eyes and a full four miles from the road and main buildings. At first it started as comforting one another from the loss of their closest friend. It was their way of reassuring each other that they would always protect the other. Later it became their expression of love. The love they felt for each other even when they knew their days were numbered.

Viren’s parents may not be bothered by dalliances with humans but they sure wouldn’t approve of a marriage to one. And Lane’s father already had several brides in mind for his son and they did not include an elven scholar. The merchant wanted to keep his wealth in a human’s hands.

The racial tension was palpable whenever Viren and his father were in the same room.

About a year after Lysandril had been killed, she came to Viren in a dream. Viren could remember every aspect of the ghostly visit and very little of the incident that bereft her of her sister seemed incredibly unfair to her. In the dream she was sitting in the library, there was a draft from the windows, they never had been sealed very well. The priests meant to do it every summer but it was then the breeze was welcomed. She was looking over a book of Pelor, searching again for the meaning of loss. When she heard her sister whisper her name. She knew it was a whisper but the sound of her sister’s voice shook her to her core. She turned and her sister was sitting on the bench next to her, happy as she had been in life. She even had a ghostly kitten in her lap. Viren laughed a little at that, if there were animals in the afterlife leave it to Lysandril to find them. “Big Sister, Pelor knows of your love for me and your love for others and your wishes that they all recover from grievous wounds.”

Viren was astonished, she knew the Gods paid close attention to the world but at the same time this almost felt like eavesdropping. However she also felt thankful honored even that the God felt her thoughts were worth listening too, that her prayers were heard. She hugged the ghostly image which was thankfully solid in her dream, the kitten squawked in protest being caught in the middle. “Lysandril, are you well, are you happy?” The tears flowed freely.

Lysandril smiled, and her eyes showed the wisdom it would have taken at least 500 years of life to gain. “I am well and happy, sister. You have been chosen by Pelor to travel and heal those that are in need. You have been marked as one of his own, pay attention to the way of the world, Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

and learn as much as you can about the goodness within so that you can teach those who may not see it as quickly.”

It was after that she kissed the new cleric and disappeared. Viren woke suddenly to find her pillow was soaked with the tears of joy she had shed in her dream seeing her sister. She shrugged into her pants and tunic and ran to the library to find the bishop there waiting for her near the spot she had been sitting in her dream. Beren looked at her, and said nothing he turned and walked to his office and she followed a step behind. Her God had provided her a mentor and to her mind He couldn’t have chosen better. With Beren she was able to let her guard down and be at ease. And while she could tell he did not approve of her dalliances with Lane either he didn’t berate her. She supposed it was because he had known love before, and that it wouldn’t have done any good to forbid it.

Lane was ecstatic with her new vocation. He said he saw a peace in her he hadn’t seen in the last year. And so Viren’s life had fallen into an easy pattern of study. Her love for Lane grew as the seasons passed.

One day she sat in the hollow wondering where Lane was, he was late, much later than he usually appeared, and a terrible fear started her body trembling. As the hour grew later she wrapped herself in their blanket, they left it rather than carry it each time they met. It was nearly midsummer. Lane was just shy of his 23 rd birthday. It has been ten years since their first meeting and five since the loss of Lysandril. And Viren was familiar enough with his touch to feel him even when he wasn’t there. She drifted off waiting for him.

“Chosen one” his voice coaxed her from sleep and she smiled up at him as he laid over her.

His eyes full of pain she hadn’t seen since the loss of Lysandril. His pet name was two fold, first he confided it mean if it was his choice he would have chosen her and secondly as a cleric she was chosen by her god as well.

She wrapped her arms around him, “you are late.”

He gently pulled himself from her, his eyes glassy, and red.

She sat upright in alarm, “what is it?”

“The time has come; I am to be married within the month. My mother had it all arranged, and announced it tonight at dinner. The girl is nice enough but…”

As he trailed off Viren’s heart tied itself in a knot and climbed up her throat. Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

He kissed her then and they wrapped themselves in each other positive it would be the last time.

Viren shook the bittersweet memory away. Her head swam and she wondered how many times her cup had been refilled as she was lost in her own thoughts. Seeing the haze around her companions, it had probably been filled too many times. She stood unsteadily and walked mostly holding the wall for dear life up the stairs to her room. She shared with the other cleric, luckily it had separate beds. As she collapsed into her bed she heard his steady breathing, he had retired much earlier, and she turned to the wall remembering the spectacular wedding.

There had been doves, there had been a beautiful dress, Viren still didn’t care enough to remember the girl’s name. She did see the knowing look at the reception, and the grief in Lane’s dark eyes. She felt the jealousy that comes with knowing the one you love will always be in the bed of someone else.

The following spring Lane’s wife was heavy with their first child. Lane was ecstatic with the knowledge his heir would soon come into the world. Viren heard the other clerics talking and they were equally excited for him. Only she sat in her room jealousy bitter on her tongue. She was not unhappy with her vocation she had progressed in her lessons to start teaching the newer clerics.

It was midsummer when the child was born. And nearly a full year from the last time she had a private moment with Lane. Her heart went in spurts and starts and thumped loudly in her chest when he would bring new fabrics to the clerics, they both knew they would be playing with fire and chose not to spend anytime alone together.

A few months later Viren finished her lessons she was deemed a full fledged cleric and would be traveling with a more experience cleric before she was encouraged to go out on her own.

She sent word to Lane that she was leaving. She had word within the day to meet in their hollow.

She went without a second thought. He stood there with his eyes now tired as many new

parents are. She was in his arms before she could stop herself. And much later the guilt evident on

both their faces they promised it wouldn’t happen again. She curled up against him and fell asleep,

when she woke it was early the sun was just waking, and she was alone.

Her trip took over a year, and she learned much in the way of handling the sick, and feeling

her God fill her as she channeled his energy to heal. Her body and soul filled with ecstasy knowing

she was helping those in need. She rarely had a few coins to rub together as most money that came

her way she would donate back to her order or to the needy families where ever she was. She Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

travels in pants and a tunic and wore hide armor in rough areas; she learned to use her mace to protect herself as well as others from harm.

She thought she was over Lane when they returned to town. She saw him in the market

buying sweets, and her heart dropped to her stomach. She saw he had the same gut wrenching

reaction. He looked to the flax fields and she nodded. Beren gave her a disapproving glance and his

lips pursed together, but it was gone in an instant smiling and blessing those in the crowd as they

passed through.

Viren rolled onto her back…was that only last week? She had meet with him every night this week. He had told her his wife was with child again. He had told her many things, and still called her

“Chosen One.” Beren had arranged for her to join this group in part Viren suspected to remove the temptation she was currently dealing with. And wondering what the morrow will bring Viren slept, knowing her secrets were safe…locked within her heart.

Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

New Books by Mercedes Lackey

More upcoming books and recent releases can be found here at The Official Mercedes Lackey web site http://www.mercedeslackey.com/biblio_da te.html

Arcanum 101: Welcome New Students previously unreleased is only available in ebook format, but there are plenty of ebook readers out there for the computer. Available now. Witches: Wicked, Wild & Wonderful a collection of short stories including one by Mercedes Lackey just came out in March. Home From the Sea the next Elemental Masters Novel is due out June 5th according to Amazon.com. Dead Reckoning is also due out June 5 th . I don’t know if I’ll be reading this one since zombies give me nightmares. A Host of Furious Fancies for fans of the Bedlams Bards series is a combination of Beyond World’s End and Spirits White as Lightning . Due out September 4 th . Redoubt book four of the Collegium Chronicles is due out October 2 nd this year also according to Amazon.com. I’m really looking forward to seeing Mags and his friends again. Crown of Vengeance out November 13 th . The newest installment in the Enduring Flame and Obsidian Mountain trilogies Universe. If you haven’t checked out The Secret World Chronicle do at http://secretworldchronicle.com/ . It’s available in both Podcast and now book format.

Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Up Coming Events

Since I’m currently based in California most of the things I’ll be posting will be local. If you know of other events in your area feel free to submit them to me using the instructions below. Some of these events are taken from the publication Squeals , the official monthly publication of the Costumers Guild West, Inc http://www.costumersguild.net/CGW/index.html . An organization I have been a member of for several years now.

Comic-Con International Jul 12-15 th 2012 in San Diego, CA and Alternative Press Expo October 13-14 th 2012 in San Francisco, CA http://www.comic-con.org/

Just about any Anime Convention in the world http://www.animecons.com/events/

The Renaissance Pleasure Faire April 7 – May 20, 2012 Santa Fe Dam Recreation Area Irwindale, CA http://www.renfair.com/socal/

Bristol Renaissance Pleasure Faire Jul. 7 thru Sep. 3, 2012 Off I-94 at the IL/WI Border http://www.renfair.com/bristol/

New York Renaissance Pleasure Faire Aug. 4th - Sept. 23rd, 2012 Sterling Forest Tuxedo Park, NY http://www.renfair.com/ny/

Escondido Renaissance Faire Northern California Renaissance Faire September 15 thru October 14, 2012 10031 Pacheco Pass Hwy, Hollister, CA http://www.norcalrenfaire.com/

Craft and the Art of Embroidery in Colonial Boston May 18 th Museum of Fine Arts Boston, MA

Star Wars Party May 19 th Yorba Linda Public Library, Yorba Linda, CA http://yorbalindalibrary.com/

Westercon 65: Conclusion July 5-8th Seattle, WA http://drupal.westercon65.org/

Civil War event October 27-28 th Spring Mountain Ranch Las Vegas, NV

Golden Grove Vol. 1 Issue 1

Golden Grove Submission Instructions

Poetry, stories, book reviews and advancement requirements should be submitted as Word document or a .txt file. Original artwork may be submitted in any digital format. All submissions should be sent to [email protected] . If you would like help editing your stories please submit them well before the deadline and put 1 st draft in the subject line. Suggestions on where you are having trouble i.e. flow, continuity, Mary-Sue etc. are welcome. All advancement requirements will be edited. Otherwise stories will be spell checked and published as submitted. Spelling errors in poetry will be double checked with the author. Deadlines for all submissions will be one month from publication which will be on or around the 10 th of January, May, and September. Make sure you submit your release form for all fan-fiction.