Fiction Friday! This week was photo prompt!
For three nights Queen Snow White watched a Wiccan come and go from the side door of the palace. Someone is gravely ill, if not dying. She doesn’t know who that might be, and finds this unacceptably careless and dangerous.
On the fourth morning before the stars had completely been chased from the sky, Queen Snow slid down the frosted stairs to a niche in the wall not far from the door. When the Wiccan Wise entered and made her way to Queen Snow’s position she saw that the Wiccan moved precisely, deliberately and nearly silently. Are they all assassins? She wonders to herself.
Steadying her breath, Queen Snow steps out from the niche and looks directly into the Wiccan’s unsettling eyes. The Wiccan Wise stops. Queen Snow then drops her gaze and performs the deference ritual of touching her heart and then her forehead. The Wiccan genuflects back and waits.
Using her Rotherian half, Queen Snow reaches out and feels this woman, finding only curiosity and worry. The Wiccan tilts her head slightly as Queen Snow probes, as if aware of what the Queen is doing, and waits for the Queen’s request. Queen Snow then removes the packet her mother had left behind from her gown, and hands it to the Wiccan.
The green flames in her eyes grow brighter, higher and darkly dangerous as soon as she touchs the packet, already feeling the power of the carved Birchwood piece.
“I did not remove it, my mother did.”
The Wiccan says nothing. Reads the note, and deciphers the carvings on the ancient Birchwood. Queen Snow feels the Wiccan fill with alarm, concern, and a hot growing rage.
“I have no one to trust,” says Queen Snow.
“Indeed, you do not. It seems we are now similar in this regard.”
“Can you advise me?”
Again the Wiccan tilts her head, “Kimio,” says the Wiccan, through barely parted lips. “You must travel to Kimio, in the east where the bone temples rise and weave. The seekers there can help you.”
“How? Our land, the Kingdom…” Queen Snow breaks off, startled as the Wiccan Wise grabs her forearm.
“Find a way. Your mother is right, if you do not, there will be none of either.”
The packet disappears into Wiccan’s tunic as she steps around the Queen and continues walking. Before she turns the corner and is out of sight she whispers, “Hurry.”