Page 8 of Kingdom of Locks

Her mother shook her head, but further conversation was halted by the abrupt opening of the door into Cyfrin’s study. Both women paused, watching silently as the enchanter strode back across the room.

“I’m ready to leave, Honeysuckle,” he said lazily, his eyes drifting across the floor, where her hair lay in coils.

Without a word, Aurelia stepped forward and gathered her hair up. In no time at all, she had it looped through the hook, and she and Mama Gail were lowering Cyfrin down to the ground below their sole window.

When his feet touched the grass, he turned his face back up to his audience. “I’ll anticipate a better solution tomorrow night, Honeysuckle,” he said sternly. As always, he ignored the presence of the other woman.

“And that’s the very best view of him,” commented Mama Gail dispassionately, as Cyfrin sauntered into the tree line with his back to them.

Aurelia fell back, letting out a sigh of relief. Her heart felt light, as it always did when Cyfrin’s nightly visits were over. A whole day before they’d have to look at his self-satisfied face again. Her thoughts became more troubled, however, as they drifted to her mother’s face.

Mama Gail’s eyes were once again uneasy as they followed the enchanter’s form, and she was actually chewing on one lip anxiously. Aurelia frowned. For all the other woman’s calm assurances, Aurelia could never remember her mother to have shown fear regarding Cyfrin before. What had Aurelia missed in the evening’s visit that had so rattled her mother?

“Mama?” Aurelia prompted.

Mama Gail started slightly, turning to her companion with a smile. “Sorry, lost in my thoughts. Shall we eat?”

Aurelia nodded, collecting bowls from the simple kitchen situated on one side of the room. Her thoughts ran back over the visit, trying to solve the puzzle of her mother’s worry, and her temporary good cheer fled when she remembered Cyfrin’s parting words.

“How am I going to figure out how to make a better ladder out of my hair before tomorrow night?” she asked Mama Gail.

The other woman snorted. “You’re not even going to try, darling. It’s a stupid request, that only a stupid person would make.”

Aurelia was silent for a moment. She appreciated her mother’s constant reassurances, but it was dawning on her as she grew older that the unwavering support may have hindered her ability to recognize when she really was deficient.

“It is one simple task,” she said, repeating Cyfrin’s words. “And I couldn’t even think of the hint of a solution.” She let out a sigh as she ladled soup into a bowl. “I really am useless, aren’t I?” Lifting a strand of dark hair, she attempted a smile. “I can’t even get my hair color right. It’s not exactly the color of honeysuckles, is it?”

“Of course you’re not useless!” said Mama Gail sharply. “Now you listen to me, Aurelia. That man is a liar and a thief. He doesn’t know you, and he has no right to make any comments about your capability. Your name is notHoneysuckle,” she said the word with disdain, “and your hair is precisely the color it’s supposed to be.” She nudged Aurelia’s shoulder. “Would a useless person have been able to save someone’s life when they were only a baby?”

Aurelia rolled her eyes, even as a smile tugged at her lips. “I don’t think I can take credit for that,” she said dryly.

“Of course you can,” Mama Gail contradicted comfortably. She settled into her seat, shifting her shoulders against the hard wooden chair to find a more amenable position. “It was seventeen years ago, on a bright spring morning.”

“Mama Gail,” protested Aurelia, recognizing the familiar opening to a story she’d heard many times before. “Don’t you think I’m a little too old for this story?”

“Not at all,” said her mother calmly. “Now, as I said, it was a lovely morning, and my dearest friend Racquel had entrusted me with the honor of taking her precious baby for an outing to the river.”

“She wanted to come,” Aurelia chipped in, entering into the spirit of it. “She would have if she had her way.”

“Precisely,” nodded Mama Gail approvingly. “But she couldn’t, so all the cuddles fell to me.”

“Are babiesverycuddly?” Aurelia asked, with a wistful note in her voice. “I would like to hold one someday.” She’d never seen a child, other than her memories of herself in her childhood, which didn’t count at all.

“They’re extremely cuddly, and you’ll get to hold many in your lifetime, I trust.”

Aurelia bent a skeptical look on her, which Mama Gail ignored. “So we went to the river, you and I. We had a picnic, and went for a walk, and you tried to eat a caterpillar.”

“I had discerning taste,” interjected Aurelia, on cue.

Mama Gail returned her grin. “All was going well, in short, and you’d fallen asleep in my arms. I left the picnic area, thinking it would be pleasant to stretch my legs. I didn’t intend to go anywhere near the ravine, of course.”

“But then,” Aurelia interrupted in a dramatic voice, “a rabid animal appeared from nowhere, chasing you toward the edge!”

Mama Gail chuckled appreciatively. “That’s it in a nutshell, yes. I held you close and ran from it, and by the time I realized which direction I was going, I was dangerously near the edge. I turned away, but before I knew what was happening, something grabbed my ankle and pulled me over.”

“With me still clutched in your arms,” supplied Aurelia.

“Of course,” smiled Mama Gail. “I wasn’t about to let go of you. It must have looked to the others in our group like we’d fallen right off the edge.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “I can still hear the screams.” She shook off the memory, her voice becoming brisk. “But of course we hadn’t plummeted to our deaths. We’d actually been pulled into a hidden alcove just below the cliff’s edge. Before I could so much as blink, Cyfrin the Skunk had put a silencing enchantment on me, and we were dragged into a tunnel that I’m sure no one else knew about.”

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