Page 34 of Roses in Amber
She smiled at me before the smile turned to a soft laugh. "Yes, it was. And I was Irindala once, but notsolong ago."
"Iri," Father said again, with the satisfaction of a man who had been waiting to say it aloud for years. Maman's laughter grew and she kissed him as Jet, squished between them, let out a sleepy protest. For a moment we were together and contented, before I said, "I have to go back."
"Amber!" Opal protested, and Maman's gaze grew serious.
"It might cost you dearly, Amber."
"Maman, already, wherever I go, he is with me in spirit. Nothing can cost me as dearly as losing my Beast will."
"He's your stepbrother," Pearl said, suddenly mischievous. I gawked at her, then blushed furiously, enraged but unable to argue the fact. Maman came to my rescue, saying, "He is no blood relation to you, Amber. Pearl, be kind."
Pearl, who did not default to kindness, said, "Hnh!" and settled back, still smirking. "I'll go with you."
I shaped the word, soundless with surprise:what?
"At least I'm a witch, Amber. I have the pearl. And she's as much my mother as yours. More. I remember her, and you don't. There must be something I'll be able to do, but mostly I'm not letting my little sister go into battle against a faery all on her own."
"Neither," Opal said softly, "am I." She rose, smiling at our collective astonishment, and fetched the opal the Beast had sent. "I wondered, Pearl," she said as she did so. "I wondered why—if—the Beast would send you alone a gift with magical properties only you could unlock."
"They're all enchanted," I said. "Protection charms."
Opal nodded, crossing the room to the rose window, where a few small herb plants grew, and broke a leaf off a bay bush. "But a protection charm isn't the same as magic within, and he sent no instructions for Pearl. I thought perhaps I might unlock some power, if I experimented. I read the book of stones, the one the Beast replaced our lost copy of." She smiled at Father, whose eyebrows drew down in recognition, if not understanding. "Opals are reputed to have a cunning gift, if wrapped in a bay leaf and held in the hand." She held up the leaf, wrapped it around the stone, and, palming the two items together, disappeared.
Glover jolted to his feet with an anguished, "Opal!" while the rest of us shrieked in various levels of surprise. Poor little Jet began crying again, and Opal reappeared with the leaf and stone held separately again. She displayed them a second time, put them back together into her palm, and disappeared. Her laughing voice said, "I'm still here. But surely an invisible sister might be of use in your battle, Amber," before returning to our view.
Father said, "No," weakly, as if he knew he'd lost the argument before it even began. Glover said it more strongly, but with greater despair; and Pearl said, "At least Lucinda isn't here to try to talk me out of it."
"Lucinda," I echoed, far more able to grasp that than Opal's sudden resolve and magical talent. "Lucy? From the village? The one you were always sneaking off to read the cards for? When did that happen?" I considered what I'd just said, and smiled. "I suppose while you were sneaking off to read the cards."
Pearl actually smiled, and I realized once again how beautiful my oldest sister was. "Reading the cards is as nice a phrase as any."
I laughed, then extended my hands toward both my sisters. "I don't know what you can do, but I won't turn away your help. Eleanor is disembodied, but I'm not sure that doesn't make her stronger. And the longer I'm gone the more danger my Beast is in. I must go. Maman, can you send us back, through the forest?"
"I'll go with you." Maman spoke with resolve, then startled as every adult voice said, "No," firmly. "It is my battle," she said, suddenly fierce, as she had never been in all the time I'd known her. For the first time I truly saw a queen in my fragile mother, and yet I denied her with a shake of my head.
"I don't think it is, anymore. Eleanor sees me as her avatar, and the Beast has always been the piece over whom this battle is fought. This is a war for the next generation, Maman, and you have three sons to raise to princedom. Our country has no leader but you, and none of the boys are old enough to take the throne without your guidance."
"I don'twantthe throne!" Flint wailed. "I want to breed the finest line of horses this land has ever seen, with Beauty as its strong stock backbone!"
"That's all right," Jasper said. "We have an older brother who might want it anyway."
"Timmet has been long apart from the world," Maman said. "I don't know what he might want, when the curse is broken." She held my gaze a few hard seconds, studying me before nodding. "You may be right. My duty may be to my younger children, not to the oldest. But if I don't go with you, Amber, I cannot guide all of you through the forest."
"The moon rose this afternoon," Pearl said thoughtfully. "I think the pearl might make me a moonlight path. So that's one of us you don't have to send."
"A moonlight path," I said, half incredulously.
Pearl gave me a flat look. "Asks the woman who has just come from an enchanted castle housing a beastly prince?"
I breathed, "Fair point," and looked at the roses beyond the rose window. My hands began to itch. More than itch: a sting grew worse as I rubbed at my hands, and spilled into the scratches and scrapes all over my body. I reached out, and the roses visible at the window bent toward me, as if eager to feel my touch. I took a deep breath and stood. "Send Opal, Maman. I think I can get there myself."
We did not go girded for war. Had we been in the castle, we might have: the servants would have whisked armor around us, finding pieces that fit just right and required no effort to lift or move in. But despite being placed near the heart of an enchanted forest, the hunting lodge was only that, a lodge meant for ordinary people doing ordinary things: it had no armor, no swords, no shields. Just three sisters determined to do right by one another, and a worried family to leave behind. We gathered outdoors, beside the roses, for our leave-taking. I had the mirror at my hip, and removed it to hesitantly offer it to Maman and Father. "I don't know if it works here—show me the Beast, please, mirror?"
The reflective surface swirled, but rather than my Beast, I saw only roses and thorns plundering the palace gardens. They slithered like snakes, and although the mirror carried no sound, I felt like I could hear them moving, hissing against one another as they grew and explored. Maman reached out and pressed the mirror down, shutting its pictures away. "I'll need to fight with the forest, from here. If I have that to watch, I'll be too caught up in fearing for your lives. All of yours. Take it with you, Amber. Maybe it will guide you."
Opal tucked bay leaves all about her person, into her bodice, into her sleeves, even made a wreath of them for her hair. Glover, who had done so much for us, who had gotten us through our first year in the lodge and helped us thrive in our second, stood by helplessly, despair written across his features. Opal, once satisfied with her leaves, extended one hand toward him, and with the other touched the small glimmering opal necklace at her throat. "This is how I know I'll be safe," she said easily. "The Beast's opal is a thing of his palace, and for all I know, it might shatter under the pressure of enchantment there. But I carry yours with me, and its only enchantment is love. It will keep me safe." She pressed a kiss against his lips, leaving him stunned as she said, "I'm ready," to Maman, and walked confidently into the forest.
Pearl had been murmuring to her pearl for some time, a quiet discussion with it and the sliver of a daytime moon; tomorrow the moon would be new, and this venture, too late. She said no goodbyes, merely left moonlight shining under her feet.
