Sunny rolled over in bed and sat up, stretching her arms high over her head. She had slept soundly and woke with her thoughts of exploring the Ballencoo Forest. She hurriedly dressed, pulled on a pair of her blue jeans, and found a bright blue gingham shirt in the back of her bedroom closet. She pulled on a pair of thick socks and headed downstairs.
She walked into the kitchen expecting to find Fiona sipping coffee at the table, but her great-aunt was gone. She found a note on the table next to her plate and teacup. She opened the note and read:
Sunny,
I've gone with Fergus to check the ewes that are about to lamb. I'll be back as soon as I can.
Love, Fiona
Sunny nodded. "Well then, I guess it's time to go out explorin'," she said to no one in particular, "Time to find the arch!" She decided to pack up a picnic and set out. She would spend the day exploring and sketching. Hugh was not expected to come by for her riding lesson; he was catching up on paperwork, so the day was completely hers to do whatever she wanted.
She collected her knapsack with her drawing tools and wrapped up a few pieces of bread, a small wedge of soft cheese, and a couple of tart apples, and in a one-quart mason jar, she poured the tea blend that Fiona had left in the pot for her. At the bottom of the note from Fiona, she wrote back:
Aunt Fiona, I've gone exploring! I'm taking my pad and pencils and heading out to see what I can sketch. Don't worry I'll be back before tea! Love, Sunny
Sunny left the note where Fiona would be sure to see it when she came in, then left the house out the back door. She stuck her feet into the green rubber boots and set off on a footpath that led past the chicken coop and enclosure to the meadow. She followed the footpath until it faded out and she stood at the edge of the forest. Which way should she go? She looked left then right then moved off to the right, picking carefully through the thick carpet of leaves and knee-high ferns.
The sunlight that filtered through the thick canopy of old oak and elm trees was a deep greenish-amber color. It danced and sparkled among the dark green shadows as the breeze stirred high in their leafy branches. As she walked deeper into the forest the trees changed to fir, pine, and cedar. Their rich pungent aroma was familiar, but she could not touch the memory clearly. The floor of the forest was spongy with moss and thick layers of pine needles and cedar bark. Sunny paused and glanced back over her shoulder to the way she had come, the distant brilliance of the meadow seemed bright and garish against the cool elegance of the forest.
She turned away and ventured deeper into the Ballencoo wood. As she picked her way around moss-covered boulders and patches of fern, she noticed how quiet it had become. It was as if she were in a cathedral and instead of stone pillars and marble casements, there were pillars of elm, oak, and branching casements holding up the sky overhead. She heard gurgling water and followed the sound until she found a waterfall. The water rolled over moss-covered dark grey stones and massive boulders to fill a rocky basin that spilled into a trickling stream and bubbled and tumbled on its way somewhere deeper into the forest. Sunny stopped and pulled her sketchbook and pencils from her knapsack and sketched the scene.
She moved to another location, flipped to another page, and quickly sketched the rock basin and the ferns that grew in the crags of the rocks. She sketched for more than an hour, engrossed with the play of light on the waterfall and the way the sun filtered through the trees. When she was satisfied, she moved on further into the forest. Following where her instincts led, Sunny eventually crested a hill and stopped and looked down on a clear wagon trail that wound its way deeper into the forest. She smiled in triumph – she had found the way the clans traveled and there was a wagon trundling along the trail. It was Tully -- she could tell from the brilliant, turquoise-painted canvas roof. The red and white Vanner pony was in no hurry as it pulled the wagon along the trail. Sunny called down to Tully as he got closer.
"Hello there!"
Tully pulled up the pony and peered out from under the hood of the caravan. He smiled as he recognized her and waved. "What are you up to?" he asked.
"Wait, I'm coming down!" she called back. Carefully she picked her way down the side of the hill until she stood before the canavan on the trail. She brushed her hair from her forehead with the back of her hand, "Whew! I'm out exploring!"
"Looking for the arch, are ye?" Tully asked. He laughed heartily when Sunny started to explain. "Ah, lass if you go the way I've come, you'll find what you're looking for."
"The arch is back that way?" Sunny asked turning to look down the trail.
Tully stepped down from the wagon and began checking the buckles of the harness that secured Cherry Brumble to the tongue of the caravan. "Aye, not too far down the way," Tully replied. "You can't miss it!"
Sunny pulled her sketchbook out and as Tully began a routine check of the wagon, she began to draw him, his wagon, and the red and white Vanner horse.
She watched as he moved about checking here and there and wondering why he had decided to stop and inspect the reins and harness in the middle of the trail. Tully's banter continued as he moved about the wagon and his horse.
As she was sketching Tully, she noticed the unusual tattoos on his forearms. They were intricate in design and seemed to have an iridescent quality that she had never seen before. She focused in on the man as he adjusted the headstall, as she drew, Tully continued to regale her with news from town. She had quickly sketched Tully and his caravan four or five times while they chatted. With a few coloring pencils, she added the turquoise-painted top of his caravan and the coppery red of Cherry Brumble's pinto markings.
The sudden sound of hoofbeats rumbling from deep in the forest drew Sunny's head up from her drawings. Tully paused and looked back the way he had come a slight frown on his face. Tully spotted the first rider and moved to take Sunny's arm and steer her to the back of his caravan. The first rider thundered past and left them in a cloud of dust.
"Wonder where he's off to in such a hurry?" Sunny asked.
Just as Tully was about to answer; more riders appeared around the bend. The horse and their riders flashed by seemingly in pursuit of the first man. Tully bent and examined the hoof prints left in the road. "All of them barefoot," he replied, "Must be some of the boys from the Dannan tribe practicing for the steeplechase."
"Whoever that was the others were trying to catch," Sunny said looking in the direction the horses and men had gone, "Didn't look like he was too worried he'd be caught."
"I'd stay close to the side of the trail in case they come tearing back this way," Tully told her as he climbed back into his wagon.
"I will," she replied. "I've seen great-grandmother's drawings of the arch and the roses in her medicinal journal, so I want to draw it too."
Tully nodded knowingly, "Aye, the roses have grown up a mite since she last walked the trails in Ballencoo." He leaned toward Sunny. "But I wouldn't explore much further than the arch since the clan will be nearby."
Sunny nodded in understanding. "Oh, I won't go any further, I promise."
Tully jerked his thumb back over his shoulder, "You won't have to go much further than the arch to find the clan – they'll find you!"
"Are they as curious of me as I am of them?" Sunny wondered aloud.
Tully chuckled, "Aye, even more, lass; even more!" He clucked his tongue to Cherry Brumble and the mare snorted mightily then moved off down the trail once more. "I'll see you soon, Sunny!" Tully called over his shoulder.
Sunny watched the wagon for a minute then set off in the opposite direction on the trail. She was eager to see the Ballencoo Arch. The forest was serene, the sounds of birds twittering in the trees, and the whisper of the breeze through the cedar boughs was a soft gentle music to Sunny's ears. She strolled along the trail feeling a little anxious and expectant as she knew she must be nearing the arch. She stopped as the trail disappeared around a stand of ancient-looking trees.
She stood there and collected her thoughts then moved off again. Slowly she walked down the trail. At first, she saw nothing, only trees, dense underbrush, and moss-covered stones. Then she saw it! The Ballencoo Arch! It was a massive structure that towered overhead eighteen to twenty feet at the center point. It straddled the wide wagon trail, its grayish-brown heavy stones created the self-supporting arch that gave Sunny the impression of great antiquity. It was covered with grey-green moss and flaky patches of white lichen. On the left side of the arch was a climbing rose. The canes of the rose were as thick as broom handles and sported evil-looking thorns that were softened by oval leaves and fragrant ruffled rose-pink blossoms. Sunny felt a shiver run up her spine and she felt cold as she studied the arch and surrounding area.
There were large jumbles of stone blocks to either side of the arch, mostly covered with deep layers of leaves, moss, and dirt. She walked up to the arch until she stood directly under the structure. It was at least fifteen feet thick at the base and narrowed slightly as it climbed up overhead. It seemed this arch was once part of an ancient city gate. There was evidence of what used to be part of a thick wall. Sunny wondered if this was the entrance to a long-forgotten city. She walked to the other side and looked back. It was magnificent! No wonder her great-grandmother had sketched this architectural wonder so often in her journals.
She walked around the gigantic structure a few times then settled in a spot where she could draw the arch with the roses climbing over the left side of the arch – in the same way she remembered the pictures her great-grandmother had drawn the arch in her journals.
As she drew, she became more aware of her surroundings. A rabbit emerged from under the brush and scampered around and disappeared into its burrow beneath the thorny snarl of the rose canes. Birds were moving in the upper boughs of the trees. There were tufted-ear squirrels that chased one another in the trees and around the trunks of the cedars. Butterflies and bees flitted among the rose blossoms and wildflowers sampling nectar from each frilly pink rose.
Sunny moved to a new spot and studied the arch for a long while. As she looked at the way the arch was constructed. She began to imagine it being part of a wall, and began to sketch again, this time she drew the arch and added the wall. It towered high and the arch was a part of a more enormous structure. She drew a wagon going through the arch into an imagined city.
She flipped to a new page and quickly sketched a hooded and cloaked figure approaching a secreted doorway. The figure took a furtive look behind him before he disappeared into the shadows behind the stone door. Then as she flipped to a new blank page, she began to sketch a whole new scene.
This time, it was a roadside tavern. It was a grey stone structure with a thick thatched conical roof that sat atop the stone walls like a witch's hat. There were wide shuttered windows to either side of a heavy wooden door with black heavy hinges. The shutters were closed, and it looked abandoned save for a pair of large wolfhounds that sat on the stoop. Then she heard barking and looked up from her page and saw five wolfhounds of various sizes coming from the woods. They ran and circled one another, tongues lolling, and teeth barred in canine laughter. When they saw her, they all froze and looked to the largest hound seemingly for some direction.
Sunny froze and waited to see what the leader of the pack would do. She knew if she ran the dogs might give chase and when they caught her, she wasn't sure what they might do in the excitement of the chase. The obvious leader stepped out a few paces, eyes never leaving Sunny. He looked over his shoulder at one of the other juvenile hounds; barked sharply and loped off with the rest of the hounds following; except one.
It came slowly up, plopped down on his haunches, and looked at her with solemn golden-brown eyes. Sunny tilted her head, "Is that you Shanley?"
The dog opened its mouth, tongue rolling out and a happy open jaw pant indicating a kind of understanding. The tail wagging was also a clue to the dogs' identity. "Well, I'm out exploring and drawing the arch," Sunny told the hound, "I'm not ready to leave yet, so you don't have to stay unless you want to."
Shanley gave a mighty whining yawn and then came over to sprawl at her feet. She smiled and leaned down and stoked his head and ears. Shanley gazed adoringly at her then settled down to take a nap. Sunny looked down at her tavern and wondered where the idea had come from. She flipped the page and went back to sketching the arch. When she moved to a new spot, Shanley followed her and stretched out, resting his large shaggy head on his paws.
Sunny put aside her sketchbook and tucked her pencil behind her ear. "I think I need a little snack to tide me over," she told Shanley, "Will you join me?"
She opened her knapsack and drew out the bread and cheese that was wrapped in a cotton cloth. Sunny shared her cheese with Shanley, but he snorted at the bread and apples and watched in confusion as she bit into the apple and munched away. She giggled at the dogs' obvious disgust and ended up feeding him most of the cheese. She drank her tea from the mason jar and when she finished, glanced up through the trees, the sun had tracked its way across the sky and was beginning to make its way west. It was time to begin the trek home. "It's time I got back to Laurel Cottage,"
Shanley rose, stretched his long lanky body, and moved off onto the wagon trail, he looked back at Sunny and gave a low grumbling bark. "Okay, I'm coming!" Sunny responded. She gathered up all her things and swung the knapsack over one shoulder, giving one last look at the arch. Sunny sighed and turned to follow the large wolfhound. Shanley swung his head back and forth along the trail, pausing to sniff the ground or gaze into the underbrush. Sunny wondered what the dog was seeing that she did not.
Sunny strolled along the wagon trail with Shanley trotting up ahead and dropping into the underbrush to pursue tantalizing scents and then breaking out to rejoin her. As Sunny found the place where she had met Tully she looked up at the hill, wondering if that was the only way back to the meadow. Shanley glanced up the hillside and yipped at Sunny, obviously wanting her to follow him on another path. For some reason, Sunny decided it would be best to heed Shanley's choice.
They walked a bit further down the wagon trail then Shanley froze. The hackles along his shaggy back rose and he started to growl low under his breath, he looked back at Sunny, and she immediately moved back off the trail and into the underbrush. Shanley stood his ground for a moment longer then joined her, placing his large body between her and the trail. There were voices and Sunny felt icy fingers run down her spine at the sound. She peered around the hound's shoulder to look at the group of men. Some carried large two-pronged spears and others carried heavy longbows and quivers of arrows – a hunting party.
One of the men who carried a longbow stopped and looked in Sunny's direction. He spoke to the others, and they stopped their spears leveled on Shanley as he emerged from the brush. "Oi there, out hunting?" the young man with the longbow asked.
Shanley lowered his shaggy head, the hackles raised, and his teeth bared. The low menacing growl rumbled in his throat taking on an angry buzzing whine that Sunny felt betrayed the immaturity of the hound and the unpredictability should he decide to attack.
"Why is he out alone?" asked one of the men.
"They usually travel in a pack," growled another man who stepped around to examine the hound.
"He's not alone!" replied the longbowman, pointing the tip of his bow in Sunny's direction.
Sunny rose and stepped out to stand next to Shanley, who continued to growl and bare his lethal-looking teeth.
"Who are you?" the bowman asked.
"I am Siobhan O'Neil, great niece to the Dannan," Sunny announced.
Immediately all weapons were lowered and the eldest in the group handed his spear over to the man nearest him and he pulled his cap off and bowed. "I am Padric of the Badger clan. The boys and I are out hunting, do you need help miss?"
Sunny smiled pleasantly at the men and shook her head, "No I'm just on my way back to Laurel Cottage; Shanley here was keeping me company." She laid a hand on the hound's head, and he instantly stopped growling and looked at her. "Thank you for the offer, and I do appreciate it. Good luck on your hunting trip."
Padric smiled pleasantly glancing at his men, "Thank you, miss – we'll be on our way now."
One by one they nodded at Sunny and set out once more on the wagon trail. When they had disappeared Shanley expelled a great sigh that made Sunny laugh. She realized that Shanley had been frightened but had put on a good front for her sake. "Come on Shanley let's get back to the cottage before we run into any more hunting parties."
Shanley yipped in resounding agreement and returned to being a happy carefree puppy. Sunny hitched her knapsack higher on her shoulder and followed the hound.
The watching eyes in the forest followed her progress a moment longer then faded into the shadows.
Once Sunny and Shanley spotted Laurel Cottage they both quickened their pace. Tully's wagon was parked just out on the road with Cherry Brumble munching on a sack of oats in a canvas feedbag. Both Sunny and the hound went around to the side and found Fiona and Tully enjoying tea. Fiona waved and called to Sunny, "Well, how was your day?"
"Not bad," Sunny replied giving Fiona a quick hug before she sat cross-legged on the ground between Tully and Fiona. Shanley joined Sunny sprawling his long lanky frame next to her, his shaggy head resting on her knee. "I found the arch and even ran into Shanley here, who stayed and kept me company."
Fiona nodded, "Tully told me he'd seen you on the wagon trail."
"We; Shanley and I, ran into Padric and his hunting party coming home," Sunny said. She ran a hand over Shanley's head and ears affectionately, "I was a little scared, but Shanley protected me."
Shanley groaned and looked sheepishly at Fiona then lolled his tongue happily at Sunny. It was Tully who leaned forward in interest, "Padric ye say?"
Sunny nodded, "They were out hunting. They had these great long two-pronged spear thingies – lethal looking!"
Tully chuckled at her description, "They do the job for boar right enough," he replied. "I'm surprised that Padric would even stop and wonder about a lone hound in the woods."
"Well, Shanley was doing a right good job at being terrible and ferocious and they questioned it until I came out of the bushes," Sunny replied.
"You told them who you were?" Fiona asked.
"I did and I was very polite and smiled pleasantly and all was well," Sunny responded then batted her eyelashes innocently at Fiona.
Fiona barked a laugh at Sunny, "Such cheek!"
"It worked?" Tully wanted to know.
Sunny chuckled and snapped her fingers, "Like magic!"
Fiona sputtered on her tea and Tully chuckled behind his hands and winked knowingly at Sunny.
There was a shrill whistle from the road and Shanley raised his head and looked in the direction of the sound. It was time to go home. He got to his feet and Sunny rose to her knees, threw her arms around the hound, and hugged him. "Thanks for keeping me company today Shanley!"
Shanley laid his head on Sunny's shoulder briefly then delivered a lick to her cheek. He bounded off barking loudly as he dashed past Cherry Brumble. The mare mildly regarded him over the rim of the feed sack and continued to munch her ration of oats.
"Did you get much drawing done?" Fiona asked pointing to the knapsack.
Sunny pulled her sketchbook from the knapsack and handed it to Fiona, "I did, I had a lovely time!"
Fiona turned the pages, marveling at the detail Sunny had captured with her pencils. She turned each drawing around to show Tully. When Fiona got to one drawing, she silently turned it to Tully who muttered something under his breath. Sunny laughed. "Yeah, I kind of let my imagination run away with me," she told them. "It's the funniest thing, while I was sitting there drawing the arch, it put me in mind of a gate to an old fortress and – well, I started sketching those -- I must have drawn three or four versions of the same gate and secret panels in the wall."
"And him?" Fiona asked turning the drawing Sunny had sketched of a male figure in a hooded cloak slipping into the secreted door.
"I don't know," Sunny murmured, "I guess I was caught up in the whole ancient fortress hidden in the Ballencoo forest notion."
Tully raised an eyebrow but did not respond. Fiona nodded, closed the sketchbook, and handed the sketchbook back to Sunny. "They are striking, my dear."
"Thanks," Sunny said as she sighed, "I should take my sketchbook and pencils to town and sketch. It would be a lot of fun to draw the folks in Cluny's pub."
Tully chuckled. "Aye, there are real colorful characters that frequent Cluny's tavern – right colorful characters!"
Fiona shrugged, "I don't know about them, but I know there'd be plenty of folks happy to sit for you in town. Then you could check the post for me and get to know some of the other townsfolk."
"Great idea!" Sunny responded. "I can do that maybe tomorrow after chores."
Fiona started to gather up the cups from tea and Tully dusted the knees of his pants off, "Well I must be off, still have to make a run out to Thornegate and see to one of Hugh's big drum mares."
Sunny got to her feet and quickly hugged Tully, "See you soon,"
"Stay out of trouble, my girl!" Tully warned patting Sunny's shoulder.
"Oh, I will!" Sunny returned and took the tray into the house.
Tully picked up Sunny's knapsack and handed it to Fiona, "The sight is coming naturally to the girl, Fiona. If you are not careful, you are going to have to explain it to her. You cannot keep that ridiculous promise you made to her mother; not now."
Fiona hugged the knapsack tight to her chest. "I don't know, Tully. I don't like it any more than you do; if she were staying – It might be different."
Tully removed the feed sack from the mare and tossed it under the seat of the wagon then climbed up and sat down. He gathered up the reins loosely in one hand and looked down at Fiona. "I am afraid you will not be able to wait too long; she will be finding out all on her own." He said as he found the right spot on the wagon bench and shook back his shirt on his broad shoulders. "And I think even Maire never thought this could happen."
Fiona nodded. "Aye, if need be; I'll do what needs to be done."
Tully raised the reins and clucked to Cherry Brumble, "On we go, Brum!" to Fiona he winked. "I will see you later, lass."
March 11: (8:30 pm) 7 Days to Festival
As Fiona was washing up the last of the dinner dishes, Sunny came into the kitchen. "Aunt Fiona, I saw those big canvas bags in the hall. Do you need them stored somewhere?"
"Aye, there's a clothes jumble coming up soon and I have several things up in the attic that I think I can take and trade for some other clothes."
"You have lots of treasure chests up in your attic?" Sunny asked glancing up toward the ceiling with a sly smile.
Fiona chuckled. "I don't know about treasures, but I can bet you'll have fun going through them. Your mother loved to rummage through those chests looking for clothes to wear."
"Could I go up and look around?" Sunny wanted to know. "I'm going to need a dress and dancing slippers for the festival."
"Gracious, yes," Fiona replied. She dried her hands on a green checked dishcloth and tossed it over the dishes in the drainboard, "There are several trunks up in the attic you can look through. I think we might be able to find something we can nip and tuck here and there for you. Come let's look at what we can find!"
"Great," Sunny replied. She followed Fiona out into the hallway where she gathered up the canvas bags and then climbed the stairs. At the landing, Fiona paused to open the panel of the magic lantern she carried, and then when it was throwing a bright light in the hall, they walked past Fiona's bedroom and stopped at what she thought was a hall closet. Fiona opened the latch and pulled the door open. Directly behind the door was a steep set of stairs that led to the attic. The scent of cedar tickled Sunny's nose as she followed Fiona. "I wonder if Sean will still be coming?"
"Oh, I imagine he'll show up," Fiona replied as she paused on the staircase and turned to look back at Sunny. "He seemed quite taken with you."
Sunny giggled, "Sean is very cute!"
Fiona smiled over her shoulder at Sunny, "And Hugh?"
Sunny stepped into the attic next to Fiona and looked around the gloom.
The young woman nodded, "Yes, Hugh is very handsome, but somehow the chemistry just is not right. Even Sean – though very attentive and good-looking, there's not that certain something that I should feel." She frowned as she recalled Jason, "Actually that certain something was never there with him – Jason, I mean; either, you know what I mean?"
Fiona certainly did understand what Sunny was expressing. There had only been two such men in her life that had captured her heart. One was dead and the other; might have well been dead. She sighed, "Aye, I understand." She went over to the back wall of the large attic and pointed to the large trunks. "Take a look through these and see if you don't find something to wear."
Sunny went over, popped the latches of the first trunk, and lifted the lid. Almost immediately there were several dresses she found that she wanted to try on. "Oh, these are beautiful!"
Fiona smiled happily and went over to a chest of drawers where she kept her sweaters and other winter clothing and placed the canvas bags on top. "I think I'll leave this job until later. You look around and bring down anything you like," she turned to leave, "Just remember to bring the lamp down. I'm going to go take a long bath."
"I will, Aunt Fiona. I won't forget."
Sunny found several gowns that were just what she wanted. There was a deep cobalt blue dress the other was a rich turquoise dress both lavishly embroidered with flowers and leaves. She also found several pairs of shoes in boxes that matched both dresses. Wrapped carefully in tissue were petticoats and under-tunics that were made to accompany the gowns. She checked the other trunk and found several more dresses that were just as lavish in ornamentation as the contents of the first trunk.
She was preparing to close the lid of the trunk when she noticed the front of the trunk lid had an unusual carved design across the front. It looked a bit like the ornate Celtic designs she had seen in manuscripts and on stone crosses. She ran both hands over the carvings, her fingers lightly caressing the designs that stood in relief from the wood of the trunk lid. As she got to the middle of the design just above the locking mechanism she stopped as she felt something give under the light pressure of her fingers. She bent closer, her face just a few inches away from the carved center medallion.
With probing fingers, she found the trigger mechanism and heard a soft click. A shallow drawer tray popped out and Sunny carefully slid the drawer out to reveal its contents.
There was a slim oak wood box that occupied most of the tray. Sunny opened the box and nestled in dark black velvet was a dagger. The blade and hilt were about fifteen inches long and engraved with strange symbols along the flat edge of the blade. The sheath was simple dark brown highly polished leather with very little ornamentation. The hilt was slim and flared out toward the pommel and looked as if it were carved from ivory. It was a deep creamy color and had thin golden-colored strands that were the only lavish touch to the entire blade.
She took the dagger from the box and held it aloft. The craftsmanship was extraordinary! She turned it in her hand and watched as faint light caught the fine edge and gleamed white fire from the fuller to the tip. Sunny smiled and turned it around to return it to the box. As she started to put the blade back into the velvet-lined box her left index finger met the tip of the blade.
"Ow, dammit!" Sunny popped her wounded finger in her mouth then looked at it and saw another droplet of blood well up on the finger pad. She brushed her thumb and index finger together and wiped away the bit of blood then carefully replaced the dagger and closed the box.
Sunny did not see the incised figures on the back of the blade glow fiery red or the faint trace of her blood on the tip of the dagger being drawn into the metal of the blade. She closed the tray of the trunk lid and gathered up the gowns, petticoats, and slippers in her arms, and on her way down from the attic, she made sure everything was back in place and took her treasures down to the landing then returned for the lantern. She was returning the lantern to the table on the landing and paused at Fiona's open bedroom door. Fiona was already in bed and reading. She looked up and smiled at Sunny, "Did you find anything to your liking?"
"Oh yes!" Sunny declared as she showed her armful of clothes, "I found several dresses, one is this delicious indigo color! I can't wait to wear it!"
"I'm glad you found something you liked," Fiona said thinking of the times she had worn some of the dresses and gowns from the trunks. Many were gifts, and others were specially made for the Dannan women.
"I'll hang these up and then take a quick bath," Sunny said. "Good night Aunt Fiona!"
"Good night, Sunny." Fiona returned.
Sunny placed the lantern on the table and closed the panel. She went back to collect her clothes from the attic and once in her bedroom she opened her magic lantern at her bedside and carried it over to her closet. There was a chest of drawers next to her closet and she set the lantern on top and angled the reflector so bright light would shine into her closet. She found padded hangers for each dress and placed the petticoats on other hangers with the dresses. She set the shoes on the floor under the dresses and smiled happily at the thought of the gowns she would wear to the festival!
When she had finished, Sunny took her bath carrying her small lamp with her to and from the bathroom to her bedroom. She returned the lamp to the nightstand and crawled into the bed. She adjusted the covers and then spotted her knapsack on the floor by the wingback chair. Sunny tried leaning out to hook her finger into the strap but had to crawl out of bed to retrieve it. She lifted the flap, pulled out the two sketchbooks, and began leafing through the sketches she had done of the arch and the waterfall. As she studied the drawings, she made of the fortress wall she wondered if she had imagined or had somehow seen into the past. Pure fantasy! Sunny laughed at herself and started to close her book when she began to think of her past.
Then out of the blue, Maya and Jason came to mind, and she sighed heavily. She was surprised that she could think of them without the acute intensity of pain – in fact, she thought of them with a kind of distant curiosity. She looked at the last drawing and wondered where the figure in the hooded cloak had come from. She had drawn the figure in shadow, he had no features, but she felt certain that she could draw him if she tried. Sunny flipped to a blank page and quickly sharpened a sketching pencil then reached under her bed for her box of coloring pencils. She quickly began to draw the face of another stranger she had envisioned.
The outstanding feature was the fierce eyes, they were prominent, dark fathomless eyes that glinted quicksilver. He was beautiful! Sunny paused, her sketching pencil hovering above her subject's eyes. He looked very much like Nicodemus Fury! It was disturbing her – it was as if she were drawing the same man, but an ageless Fury was hidden beneath the visage that was Fiona's age! There were differences in the ageless Fury. There was a scar on his right cheek, it was an old wound. It stood out again his dark bronzed skin. It did not mar his looks, only gave him an air of fierce ruggedness. It was a scar from a sword. Somehow, she knew that – she also knew he bore other battle scars on his body. As she drew, she knew this man had a good sense of humor, was a skilled linguist, and could speak several languages. She knew the sound of his voice, and she smiled as she could just discern his voice. It was velvety soft and deep – sensual when speaking intimately, but sonorous and commanding when necessary.
Sunny placed him in a room, near a fire. He sat in a chair comfortably at ease, gazing into the flames. He was reading but had tired of the prose and had found more meaning in the dance of flames than in the words of a long-dead poet. The empty glass on the round table next to his chair told her he had sipped fragrant liquor, and it was very late in the night. Sunny smiled, she was watching him, and he had no awareness of her. He was not like any man she had ever known, and she realized that the only man she had ever been close to had been Jason, and he was not a man – not like this man!
She added details of the surroundings. The leather chair, and the carved fronts of the chair arms. The hassock where he rested one booted foot was slightly worn from all the previous times, he had propped his boots there.
Then there was a soft knock at the door; he frowned in thought and then rose slowly from the hearth. As he walked up to the door Sunny sensed something was not right. She could see who was on the other side of the door and that they meant to harm. "No! Protect yourself!" she said.
The man froze and looked around him. Sunny was not sure that he had heard her but sensed something in the room with him.
Sunny saw him start toward the door, but she could see this woman meant him harm! "No!" she said aloud.
Again, when he moved to open the door, the unmistakable presence made him pause. He scowled around him.
Sunny felt panic clutch at her insides, she didn't know what to do. She picked up the bright blue pencil and drew a large rough line around the frame of the door to the floor and back up to close the bright blue rectangle. The instant she drew it on the paper, an electric blue fire sprang around the heavy wooden door he stood poised to open.
"There now you'll see this isn't who you think it is!" Sunny told him.
He drew back as the cold blue fire sprang from thin air and crawled slowly around the door frame. He reached for his short sword, drew it from its leather scabbard, and yanked the door open. Lilas was standing on the other side of the threshold frowning petulantly, "What is wrong with you? Aren't you going to invite me in?"
He froze. She did not even acknowledge the blue fire that hung suspended around the frame of the door between them. He angled a suspicious look at the girl. "It's late; you should be in bed asleep!"
"Invite me in," She murmured, "It is cold out here in the hallway," She coyly smiled, and it was then he saw the red feral gleam in her eyes.
"You see that?" Sunny whispered, "I'm guessing that's not normal!"
He felt the strong presence and lifted the short sword. Lilas' face altered, shifting like clouds across the face of the major moon. It was then he saw the identity of the figure – and it was not Lilas! A daemon! He switched the short sword to his left hand and grabbed his long sword. He yanked it from the scabbard with his right and moved to leave the room. He was pushed back by an invisible force. He scowled angrily at the blue fire between him and the daemon. "Let me through!" he told the presence in his room. Sunny felt the command deep in her head, and with her kneaded eraser, she quickly began to erase the blue jagged line from around the doorframe of her drawing.
The blue fire faded, and he attacked the hulking figure that now stood in the place of Lilas. There were other shadows in the hallway and Sunny realized that other creatures were moving in on him. "No!" she cried out and her cry was heard both by him, the daemons, and Fiona.
Sunny knew that she had to protect this man; only how? She quickly thought if her blue pencil could create a protective shield, perhaps she could somehow conjure up something to destroy the monsters attacking him.
She picked up red and orange pencils and began to sketch flames sprouting on daemon arms, shoulders, and heads. Almost as the idea struck, the fire sprang into being! As the daemon, closest to him, burst into flames he thrust his short sword into the chest of another daemon. Quickly the fires sprouted and dispatched the daemons into great piles of smoldering ash.
The palace guards arrived to see the last of the horde of daemons wither away and piles of grey ash replace the forms of the attackers. "Check the rest of the palace!" he called to the guards. "I will see to the royal family!"
He rushed back into his room, grabbed up his sword belt, and saw her standing beside the fireplace. The form of a young woman, with bright copper hair, and the most amazing green eyes he had ever seen! Then as quickly as the blink of an eye, she was gone! It was her!