Leslie Moore - Griffin's Daughter

“ You’d best leave me alone from now on,” she warned, her voice low and dangerous. “I’m through taking your shit!” Ruby’s eyes widened and Jelena saw uncertainty and yes, a little fear within them. Wordlessly, Ruby scrambled to her feet and fled, disappearing through the kitchen door.

Jelena rose, dusted off her knees, and followed, a wicked sense of satisfaction adding a little swagger to her gait.

“ Girrrrl!!!” Cook shouted as she entered. “Get over here an’ start on them turnips!”

“ Yes, ma’am,” Jelena answered, her newfound confidence evaporating like frost on a sunny windowpane. She grabbed a paring knife and, seizing a root, began furiously peeling.

Later that day, when she had a few moments to herself, she sat and turned over in her mind the extraordinary occurrence of the blue flame. What exactly was its nature? What had triggered it? Anger, perhaps? She’d been angry plenty of times before. No, there had to be more to it. Most importantly, could she learn how to summon it at will and control its effects?

Magic!

The word whispered through her mind, conjuring up images both seductive and terrifying. Only a tiny fraction of the human race had any innate magical abilities, and those that practiced openly were more often than not shunned or punished for it. Powerful magic had always been the province of the elves.

All elves were born with magical abilities-an inheritance from their demon progenitors, or so the priests taught, and because their magic came from the demon realm, it was inherently evil. A favorite bogey of all priests was the elf witch, a creature whose beauty ensnared righteous men and whose magic corrupted their souls.

Jelena’s stomach clenched with dread. What if Ruby denounced her as a witch to the castle’s resident priest, Father Nath? What would happen to her then? The people of Amsara barely tolerated her as it was, and only because of the very thin mantle of protection her blood ties with the Preserens afforded her. If she were accused of witchcraft, she would be driven out and possibly worse, blood ties notwithstanding.

Still, the mere fact that she seemed to have inherited at least a little magic from her unknown sire instilled in her a new sense of courage. She decided not to live in fear of denunciation. Ruby was so stupid that no one would believe her anyway.

Jelena determined to keep the blue fire a secret at least for now, until she could figure out a way to call it forth again. Eventually, she knew that she would confide in Claudia and perhaps Magnes. This was too important a development to keep from them for long. Perhaps, between the three of them, they could figure out what it all meant.

Reluctantly, Jelena rose from her seat outside the kitchen door and returned to her duties.

“ Well! You are a sight, my lamb. As beautiful as yer dear mam, I reckon.” Claudia stood with hands clasped beneath her chins, a look of pure delight suffusing her heavy features. She gestured with a forefinger in a circular motion, indicating that Jelena should spin around again for a second viewing. The girl obliged, laughing a little despite her attempts to keep a tight leash on her excitement.

The gown she had chosen consisted of a cornflower blue overdress with a matching pale blue undertunic. Both garments were of silk, and to Jelena, who was used to the rough feel of coarse wool, cotton gauze, or plain, serviceable linen against her skin, the whisper-soft way the fabric glided over her body seemed almost obscenely luxurious. High-waisted, with a tight fitting, scandalously low-cut bodice and a full, slightly flared skirt, the gown had last seen use several seasons ago-out of fashion, but still beautiful, nonetheless. The oversleeves were slit from shoulder to wrist to reveal the fine embroidery of blue flowers that embellished the sleeves of the undertunic. Embroidery also decorated the neckline and hem of the overdress, carrying through the floral motif. Matching blue slippers completed the ensemble.

“ Humph,” Claudia rumbled, tapping a stout finger against her jawline thoughtfully. “That neck of yours needs summat to set it off. It be too bare…Ay! O’ course! I’ve got just the thing!” Jelena watched with growing curiosity as her foster mother went over to the large wooden chest at the foot of her bed and began rummaging through its contents. After much digging, she brought forth, with a small crow of triumph, a little box made of cedar.

“ I want you to have this, my love. It’ll go just perfect with the dress,” Claudia said as she pressed the box into Jelena’s hands.

Jelena sighed with wonder. The box was exquisitely crafted, with an inlay of different colored woods forming an interlocking pattern of vines upon its lid. Jelena had never seen the box before and had no idea Claudia even owned such a fine object. She lifted the lid.

Nestled within its lining of black velvet rested a strand of blue beads.

Jelena carefully lifted the necklace free and held it in her hands as if it were made of the most precious of sapphires. In truth, the beads were fashioned of blue Kara glass; although not as costly as sapphires, still, a servant like Claudia would never have been able to afford such a piece of jewelry.

Claudia must have seen the question in Jelena’s eyes. “This was a gift, given t’ me by the late Duchess Julia, may the gods bless an’ keep her soul. As good an’ kind a mistress as anyone could want, she was. She gave me this necklace as a token of her thanks, after I seen her through the birthing of young Lord Magnes. Ay, what a hard birth that was! The poor duchess suffered the pains of Hell, she did, but it was worth it, for she gave your uncle his Heir. Now, turn ‘round an’ I’ll fasten it on.”

With the necklace now encircling her neck, there remained one last task to be completed before Jelena could make her way to the great hall for the feast.

After a great deal of vigorous brushing and the judicious application of almond oil, Jelena’s hair was subdued enough to allow Claudia to place the silver circlet upon her foster daughter’s head and adjust it so that it sat correctly. She then clapped her hands together and let out a great sigh.

“ Well, girl, off you go now.”

Jelena threw her arms around her foster mother and laid her head on Claudia’s shoulder. She could feel Claudia’s love enfold her like a warm, comforting blanket, and her own intense feelings momentarily threatened to overwhelm her.

Claudia held her close, clucking softly like an old contented hen. “You don’t want to be late, my lamb. Won’t do, keepin’ the family waitin’.”

“ No, it won’t,” Jelena agreed. She laughed and wiped the unshed tears from her eyes. “I guess I’m just a little nervous. After all, I’ve never been allowed to eat with the nobles before. I’ll have to be especially careful not to let them see that I’m really just a kitchen maid.”

Claudia shook her head. “There’ll be none in that room who’ll mistake you for anythin’ but what you are…a true Preseren.”

My mother may have been a Preseren, but that doesn’t matter to anyone but Magnes, Jelena thought. All they’ll see is the mark of my father’s blood on me. That’s all they’ve ever seen.

“ Don’t wait up!” Jelena said airily as she swept through the door. She didn’t want Claudia to see how scared she really was.

The wooden stairs squeaked like indignant mice as Jelena made her way down, mindful of the full skirt, which she had partially gathered up in her hands. The rustling of the silks seemed preternaturally loud in the close, narrow stairwell. She reached the bottom landing and pushed open the door leading to the yard.

Twilight had fallen, but the yard glowed with the light of lanterns and torches. The public feast was in full swing.