It takes a while to get to the edge of the woods. Knowing what is coming, I may have dragged my feet a bit. Plus, there was the small matter of getting the boy and the goat settled with Jenny.

Jenny was more than happy to, as she put it, have another whipper snapper around the place. She’s a pure joy.

I find Sir Hans on his back in a field of wheatgrass. His horse grazes on the stalks, but when the big horse sees us, he throws a stink eye and turns his rear to us. I take a wide circle around him and the kick radius of those huge hooves. They hurt.

I leave Ran glaring at the stallion and sneak up on the knight. I can hear his snores from here.

One of my smaller daggers fits what I have in mind perfectly, but I leave it in the sheath. It'll hurt, but it won't kill.

I pounce on the knight, and he catches my wrist a hand's breadth before the blade reached his heart. My other hand catches the knife he aimed at my ribs.

“You’ve not lost your skill, Old Man.”

I roll off him and snap my knife back into place under my tunic.

He breathes out a chuckle, lips twitching. “Possible. Or, perhaps, you’re growing slower,” he retorts in a lazy voice.

I glare at him but he only rubs a grin from his face before sobering. “Are you ready for this, young Guardian?”

The mock scowl leaves my face. “As much as I can be.”

He nods, as if expecting such.

I swing on horse-shaped Ran as he collects his blue roan stallion. The horse is a beauty with deep black stockings fading into a blue tinted grey along his shoulders. Up on his withers and hindquarters, he’s almost the pure grey of a full moon. If only his temperament wasn't as ugly as a prickly old woman.

The stallion tosses his head, discontent at having his meal interrupted. Sir Hans smiles at the beast and rubs a small circle on his neck before swinging on. The horse prances a few steps, but Sir Hans rides the bugger out.

I turn Ran to the woods that burn with a foreboding I have never felt. The trees have always been home, a place of escape and peace. A refuge.

Now? Every shadow turns into grasping claws and the fall leaves floating down to darken the path remind me of a black-eyed monster. A chill runs down my spine.

Ran paves our path, guiding the horse and rider behind us at a steady pace. It’s not long before we reach the place that had been home.

There’s no scent of danger on the air, nor do I feel any evil presence.

“Keep an eye out for us, Beaut. I’ll take Sir Hans with me.”

Ran nods her head as she continues to sniff the air for any unperceived danger, which looks slightly odd considering her horsey figure.

I gesture to Sir Hans as I slide from Ran’s broad back. He slips off his own mount as I begin the trek around the cottage. The herbs and flowers Momma and Jack so lovingly cared for are wilting in their beds beneath the unforgiving sun without water.

The shutters creak while the front door gapes like an open maw, ready to devour us. How can mere days change a house so? Nothing is out of the ordinary, besides there being no warmth or laughter within the clearing. The love that made the place a home is just... gone. Now it’s just another house in the middle of the woods. The realization has me blinking back tears.

I enter through the back door. The inside is quite dim, not unlike stepping into dusk as opposed to the full light of the sun coming down from above.

The short distance to the kitchen brings back the love and laughter. The tears and dirt and sweat. If these walls could talk... I shake my head. I see myself sitting on the couch, Jack and Jill cross legged on the floor before me as I regaled the tale of meeting Ran.

My life here flashes before my eyes. The good, bad, beautiful and ugly. I learned of Daddy’s death as I chopped carrots on the small wooden table beside the stove. That day... I still remember the dull thump as the knife slipped through my fingers when an Honour Knight told Momma. I remember the blood draining from her face. She crumbled to the ground like a puppet with the strings cut. The knight caught her, and I knew I could never again be a carefree child again. That was the day I became a woman.

But the beautiful moments were also many. Jack and Jill’s first warbled cries as they came into this world. Daddy and Momma’s eyes shining with pride as they introduced me to my siblings, a love so sharp overshadowing the pain of their births.

I run a hand across a scar in the wooden wall. I smile, remembering Daddy’s deep chuckle when he learned I stole his sword and may have fought imaginary villains. Momma was not so amused. She ordered any swordplay outside, and the next day Daddy started my lessons.

I hesitantly walk to the overturned chair in the middle of the kitchen. I press a hand on the sawed through ropes, the rough edges a reminder of biting pain and helplessness.

I turn to the wall before me with a stunning calm. I place both hands on the wood and lean my forehead against it. “Why?” I whisper.

The rage growing inside erupts. My first punch decimates the wood. My second goes straight through it, and pain explodes along my knuckles.

Hands grab my arms, and I almost fight them before I see the pain-pinched face of Sir Hans through a haze of tears I didn't realize were dripping from my chin.

ARIA!

The scream penetrates the haze in my mind. “Ran?” I whimper.

Her big brown eyes meet mine. They hold warmth and kindness. My friend. My sister. My knees give out and she’s there. I collapse into her mane.

She curls her head and tail around me, drawing me into a warm and furry embrace.

“Why, Ran? Why would The King do this?” Sobs make my head hurt and chest burn.

She just licks my cheek and nods to Sir Hans. He plucks me from her grasp, cradling me in his arms. “Shhh. It’s ok. You’re going to be ok. We’ll find them...” he strokes my short hair back from my face and places a fatherly kiss on my forehead.

I keep hearing it. The scream. My sister in the clutches of a mad mage. I can’t have a meltdown. She needs me.

A sarcastic voice that reminds me a little too much of Ran tells me I’m already having a meltdown.

I sit up and rub my eyes, knowing the time for this is not now.

Then when? Ran asks.

When they are safe.

I avoid Sir Hans' compassionate gaze as I flip the cellar door open with more force than necessary, showcasing the hidden door for Hans to see. If he were to betray me, he'd have much more incriminating information than where we keep weapons and canned goods.

I hear Sir Hans’ footsteps behind me as I walk through the nearly empty shelves and black dirt at my feet. I click the hidden latch. The panel behind the empty wine stand opens with a hiss.

Sir Hans follows me into the space with naught a word. I hand him my bow and quaver, checking the fletching on the bows on the way past. They’re still impeccable, just as I left them.

I finger Momma’s knife set. She said Daddy ordered this specific set for her when they first married. He knew the way to her heart, that’s for sure.

I pull one of the four-inch blades from the belt sheath. A sunburst flower is set in all its glorious yellow beauty right where the blade meets hilt.

When Daddy died... she put them up, deciding to carry her old set around in case of wolves or thieves.

I slide the blade across my finger. Barely a hint of a sting and a thin red line follows the blade. Momma must’ve sharpened and oiled them lately. A rueful smile crosses my face. When she had time for that, I don't know. I wipe the blade and put it back in the sheath.

I strap the six small blades to my waist. The baldric holding my twin blades is already on my back. The other weapons and valuables in the hidden compartment are few, but contain many memories. I run a hand down Daddy’s sword, his old longbow, and Momma’s hammer. The five-foot monstrosity would do some damage, but I never could see my graceful and wise mother wielding it.

A certainty overcomes me. She wouldn't have been captured without a fight. She's strong. If anyone knows what to do in this type of situation, it's her. And she trained her children to be tough, all in our own ways.

The thought buoys my soul. I'm coming, Momma, Jack, Jill. Stay safe until I get there.

Something touches my mind, and I feel a sense of peace.

Momma? I use every ounce of strength within me, trying to find a hint of her. The Spark within bubbles up, interested in what I'm thinking.

Can my Gift be useful after all?

Ran gives me her strength before I can ask. My heart beats faster, and sweat beads on my forehead despite the cool air.

Do you think this can work? I ask her, hope pulling my heart, but I'm afraid to let it consume me. Afraid of disappointment if I can't do this.

Rider, she says, soft and sweet, but with a hint of steel. There is no reason not to try.

But what if... ? Fear and doubt try to overwhelm me, pressing against my shoulders like a physical presence, but a blast of warm support and assurance comes from my bond.

Don't give into doubt. Hold onto hope, and know I'm with you every step of the way. Let's do this.

A deep breath fills my lungs and brings with it the scents of my family. Father always smelled of leather and sweat. Momma carried her cookies and salves with her, smelling of eucalyptus and sweet flour and sugar. Jack was pure mischief, a mix of dirt and, strangely, tree bark. Last, sweet Jill smelled of books and ink, mixed with the Lavender tea she loves. Scents I never realized meant so much, and somehow... it's almost as if they are here with me, cheering me on.

Daddy's scent wraps around me in a soothing embrace, calming my soul. And I almost think I hear his voice, indistinct, but filled with his confidence.

I open my eyes, seeing my father's armor. The red flag with the golden dragon on the shoulder signified his rank, once upon a time. I see his smile the time I talked him into trying it on, and we laughed so hard when it got stuck because he had gained a few pounds since his military days. Momma had to lather him up in lard before we got it off. That was before Jack and Jill, but somehow... I know he's here.

Let's do this.

I tug on the thin thread of our bond, placing myself there. The feeling of Ran, of her loyalty and undying love surrounds me, along with her worry and fear of not being able to protect those she loves.

I bask in her peace, then send out a burst of my Gift from this little cellar.

I scour the city, searching through every form of life for a hint of where they are.

It's hard to describe exploring a city of living creatures for a hint of familiar. It's similar to trying to tune out competing orchestras that just won't quit. The strings are many and are way out of tune, throwing your brain into a tail-spin as you search for one very specific note.

A headache pounds in my brain, and even Ran is straining under the pressure of so many competing emotions in our mind. We whimper, of one mind and one soul.

We hunt, and I barely realize something is holding me upright, even as my other, four-legged body collapses to the ground under the strain.

And my mind comes to a region devoid of anything. No emotion, no life. I note where it is, and search the surrounding emotions.

There. A worker who hates watching the corn grind into meal. He's at the river, beside many large waterwheels in the industrial section of the city. And he's right beside where there is nothing.

I snap my eyes open, and my body feels odd. I can wiggle my fingers, but it's almost as if I'm looking at someone else's fingers, not my own.

"Aria? Aria! Snap out of it! Jenny is going to kill me," Hans mutters under his breath.

"I know where they are."

I feel more than see him go still as granite.

"You are a mage, then?"

I pause. "Newly acquired Gift without training and it strikes me at odd times and is rarely useful. Sure, call me a mage," I realize I'm mumbling and also that it's slurred, but can't find it in me to care.

My emotions are dim, numb, and almost nonexistent. Such a thing would normally scare me... but I don't feel fear. I can't.

"I don't feel right," I say, swaying, before bending over to retch in the corner.

Hans curses behind me, but finds a wipe and holds it out to me, gagging himself. Normally, I would find humor that the big knight can't handle a bit of regurgitation.

When I get done, I sit back, staring at the ceiling of this little grey room and trying to remember... something.

"Aria?" Hans snaps his fingers, and I roll my head over to look at him. Confusion wrinkles his brow and something I'm too numb to fathom touches his eyes.

"Huh?"

"What did you do?"

I let my eyes slide past him to the shiny objects laying along the wall. "Don't know. Don't care," I mumble.

He kneels beside me. "What do you feel?"

"Don't feel a thing."

He grabs my hand and I watch with dead eyes as he pricks my finger with the end of a dagger. When I don't even jerk, he curses up a storm.

"Aria, what did you do?"

He pats the side of my face when my eyes go heavy, and I make my cottony tongue wet my lips enough to speak. "I found... something. In the city. Think it was important, but nothing is important. Nothing matters."

"Kid, I don't know what in the Sixth you just did, but do not sell yourself short." His voice is gruff with emotion. "Do not make light of the sacrifices we all have made for the betterment of others. Our physical bodies may never leave this world, but the souls we help will live on. It is worth fighting for. You are worth fighting for," he finishes softly, but his words barely penetrate the hazy numbness.

He lifts me up and cradles me as if I were a babe. With quick strides, we emerge from cool darkness to bright light that stings my eyes and makes them water.

A white being is laying across the earth, her breathing steady, but her eyes closed.

Something inside me quivers at seeing her like that. Remembers the fear of almost losing her. Reminds me of racing through the woods, of her smirk that so often preceded mischief, and her always at my side, my biggest supporter and best friend.

It clicks something back into place within me, and with a gasp, I feel all my emotions snap back into place. It's overwhelming, but the one thing I feel most is hope.

"I know where they are."