WeatherMaker Hearts Desire Prologue
Chapter 60: A Guardian’s Sacrifice

Lying on her side on the floor inside the carriage, Amaia struggled helplessly against the ropes that bound her arms behind her back, sobbing into the carpet. The carriage jolted as it was pulled forwards along the road, and she felt the vibrations through the carriage floor as the horses carried her onwards to places unknown.

Helpless, alone and terrified, Amaia lay there and waited for her fate. She lay there and cried. For the grief she had caused, for the pain she had suffered. When she had thought she was just picking up the beginnings of a normal life, it had all once again been ripped from her.

And now she cried, because everything felt hopeless again.

But she was not alone as she first thought. Her guardian angel was with her, her fairy White Feather. He sat atop the carriage as it trundled along, invisible to the soldiers mounted on stallions that rode around the carriage, never breaking formation as they guarded it.

‘I’m here’ White Feather whispered, stroking the roof of the carriage below him. ‘Don’t be afraid. I’m here with you.’

The horses were not allowed rest, and the carriage only stopped hours later, coming to an unknown place.

The door to the carriage was opened and a soldier moved towards her. Amaia was pulled roughly from the carriage and blindfolded. She stumbled as she was shoved forwards, through her blindfold she could see nothing, but she noticed the environment darken around her considerably as she was led onwards, what little light that penetrated through the cloth now faded.

She was in a dark place now. Somewhere inside.

Amaia was led down what must have been a corridor, the noise from the heavy footsteps of herself and the soldiers around her echoed back at them. She heard the screech of a door open, and she was shoved forwards again. The rope around her arms was removed, her blindfold was whipped off and she found herself in a tiny bare room with no window. Amaia turned and stared fearfully at the soldier that stood before her, her eyes red, skin blotchy and tears streaking her face. She drew deep breaths as he stared back at her, she wondered what he would do, and if he would speak to her. He didn’t.

The soldier stepped back silently, closing the door after him. Amaia heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, the lock clicking in place, and the key being withdrawn again.

The noise was final.

The footsteps of those that had brought her here receded into silence and Amaia dared to approach the door. There was a tiny barred window set in the door at head-height. She peered through it tentatively, but saw nothing beyond but an empty and gloomy corridor, dimly lit by burning torches.

It was very dark in the room, it smelt filthy, and she dared not approach the corners for fear of what might be there. She examined her meagre surroundings, squinting and blinking in the shadows. She saw with a sinking heart, that were was not even a bed.

Amaia stood in the centre of the room, shoulders hunched and holding herself. Her body sagged as he knees weakened. She allowed herself to fall slowly to the floor, head hung and crying into her knee.

‘Simon…’ she sobbed, his pale face and expression of disbelief burned into her memory. ‘I’m sorry...’

‘Amaia.’

Amaia lifted her head slowly, blinking tears from her eyes and gazing blearily about her in confusion. Had she heard a voice? Or was it in her mind?

‘Amaia’ came the voice again.

Amaia felt a tug at her ear. She looked down, seeing the tiny form of White Feather standing on her shoulder.

‘White Feather’ she hissed under her breath. ‘I’m so glad…’

‘What? You couldn’t possibly think that I would leave you?’ he hugged her neck. ‘Never’ he said. ‘Never.’

She opened her hands out for him, and he floated through the air to land on her open palms.

‘Oh White Feather’ she sighed miserably to him. ‘What I am to do?’

‘I don’t know’ White Feather admitted, ‘but don’t worry’ he said quickly to her. ‘I will protect you.’

‘Where am I? What is this place I’ve been brought to?’

White Feather hesitated. ‘You are safe here for the meantime at least’ he told her.

‘What was that noise?’ Amaia gasped suddenly.

Her voice trembled as she spoke. The sound they both heard was a low moan, rumbling through the walls and floor of the cell. Amaia could feel the sound vibrating in her very chest. It sounded as if it had come from a great beast of colossal size.

‘There is a creature’ White Feather explained, ‘somewhere in this place, imprisoned like you are. It’s in one of the cells’ he whispered, ‘a long way down the corridor. This place is like a maze.’

‘Cells?’ Amaia repeated. ‘You mean there’s more than this one? Is this a prison of some sort? Who else is kept here?’

‘Amaia’ White Feather sighed avoiding her eyes. ‘Maybe its best you do not ask.’

Amaia drew her hands apart, White Feather took flight hovering before her to avoid falling.

‘I wish I never had these powers!’ Amaia cried in despair turning away from him, still resting on her knees. ‘They have ruined my life and brought me nothing but misfortune and suffering!’

‘You mustn’t speak like that’ White Feather told her firmly. ‘Your powers are a rare gift.’

‘No’ Amaia shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks again. She hugged her knees, staring miserably into the darkness. Already her body was becoming numb from sitting on such an uncomfortable surface. ‘My father never cared for me, never loved me. I will never find him and he will never find me…not here. And Roy and Anya…and Simon…’

‘No’ White Feather said firmly to her, grasping her shoulder. He had gained his full size again. ‘I placed a spell upon your father. He is looking for you, at this very moment.’

‘After all these years?’ Amaia asked him unconvinced. ‘He’s surely forgotten all about me.’

’Have you forgotten all the good moments you shared together, with your mother and father? You were a happy family. He was a good father to you, a good man...’

‘Once…’ Amaia replied meekly, ‘but things changed.’

‘Amaia’ White Feather spoke sternly, coming around to kneel before her, grabbing her by both shoulders and holding her tightly. ’He will find you again.’ There were tears in his eyes as he spoke to her. The expression on his face was set in stone as he stared wide-eyed at her. A single tear ran down his cheek, and then another. ’Trust me’ White Feather said to her beginning to tremble, ’trust me; I will see you two united, even if it means my death.’

‘White Feather…’

‘I am your guardian’ White Feather told her. ’I exist only to protect you, and others like you in need. I am here for you, and I always will be. No matter what.’ His nails dug into her shoulders then. ’No matter what…’

Her face screwed up, overflowing inside with emotions of sadness and grief and despair. White Feather leant forward, embracing her tightly, feeling her sorrow too.

Amaia’s arms slowly came up to hold him back.

‘I love you White Feather…’ she whispered, resting her head against his shoulder. ‘I’m glad you’re here with me. Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me………thank you.’

White Feather leant back from her, caressing her cheek tenderly, tears streaming down his cheeks as he smiled sadly at her. He held her head gently, brushing her tears away and kissing her forehead.

He moved to sit beside her, lifting an arm around her shoulders as she did the same. The two held each other, side by side close to one another.

‘I don’t know what’s going to happen’ White Feather said to her, ’but always…I will protect you if I can. I will protect you, until your father finds you, then he can protect you, as he did when you were young, when life was good.’

A gentle warmth grew from White Feather’s chest, the same warmth that had kept Amaia sleeping peacefully in the cold nights under the stars when they had travelled, all that time ago when they were looking for Farrell and Arlen.

White Feather placed a spell upon Amaia. Amaia’s eyelids drooped and her body went limp. White Feather eased her down as she fell into a peaceful and deep sleep, laying her on her back, with her head resting on his lap. He leant over her, resting his forehead against hers, his tears falling onto her cheeks as he held her head in his hands.

‘I love you Amaia’ he whispered. ‘I love you…’

Days passed, and Amaia stayed where she was, in her tiny cell with White Feather. White Feather would leave her side from time to time. She didn’t know where he would go, but he would bring her back food, good food, not the slop that was pushed under her door twice a day. Amaia would accept the food that White Feather brought her with gratitude. Thanks to him, Amaia was able to stave off the hunger and remain healthy, day after day.

Amaia and White Feather would sit for hours on end in complete silence, simply waiting.

‘Where is the key?’ Amaia asked him at one point.

‘It’s in the coat pocket of one of the guards’ White Feather replied without looking up.

‘Then why don’t you steal it?’

‘I can’t. Your cell is too far away from the entrance. There are too many guards, and that creature…stands between you and the outside world…I’m sorry…’ he buried his face in his arms, the action was as if he were trying to hide from her, as if he felt guilty, ashamed, for not being able to do more.

At last days later, someone came for her. There were heavy footsteps coming from down the corridor, heading towards her cell. Amaia, expecting the flap under the door to open and food to be pushed through ignored the sound. But instead the sound of a key being turned in the lock was heard. White Feather instantly made himself invisible as the door was swung open. Amaia looked up fearfully at the soldier standing in the doorway, towering over her fully armoured; to her he seemed like a titan.

He strode towards her. Amaia flinched as the soldier grabbed her roughly by her arm, pulling her to her feet. Outside in the corridor waited several more soldiers. Amaia was led down the passage, this time without a blindfold. She felt a mounting trepidation in her heart as they went. But her fear eased slightly as she felt a presence by her side, a light touch on her shoulder. White Feather was standing there, invisible to all but her; he tugged at her ear to keep himself balanced as Amaia was marched forwards by the guards, his little hand holding tightly onto her earlobe. Amaia felt comfort at having him by her side.

Amaia was taken through the dark and dank corridors and to a stairs that led to a place above them. Through the door at the top of the stairs, Amaia went, squinting and shielding her eyes from a sudden dazzling light that cast itself upon her and the soldiers around. Her eyes adjusted to the bright surroundings as she was shoved forwards by one of the soldiers, after a few seconds Amaia was able to see clearly all that was around her. The room she found herself in was large and had been built with great fortune and beauty. It reminded her a little of the halls she had spent many years of her life in, back in a time she had been waited on hand and foot by a host of servants, but never spoken to, never acknowledged, and always ignored. She had completely forgotten about her life in that place, that place she had spent twelve years. But on seeing these rooms, the memories suddenly flooded back to her.

Her confusion only mounted as she was led onwards, and she wondered in silence who could have taken her. Whoever it was that had imprisoned her, it must be a person of vast wealth, equal to, no, more so than the man who had imprisoned her before.

More so than the prince Tristan, the man who claimed to be her father.

More wealth than a prince? Amaia thought, eyes darting all around her, taking in every detail of the polished marble floors, the beautiful stained glass windows, the great chandlers above their heads, the wide stairs with blood-red carpets. Only a king she realised with shock. Oh gods…what’s going to happen to me?

She was led through many rooms and into a great hall through a set of tall double doors. The soldiers that escorted her turned and left her suddenly, closing the doors behind them. White Feather instantly flew off Amaia’s shoulders, regaining his usual size, though remaining invisible. He snarled instantly at the sight of a man standing before them facing them, a man who had been waiting for them inside the hall.

White Feather glared at him, with a look that Amaia had never seen before. It was one of pure hatred, anger and loathing.

‘Do you know him?’ Amaia whispered quietly to White Feather.

‘Yes’ White Feather hissed back. ‘He is the one who killed the last Weather Maker I served.’

Amaia stared back at the king wide-eyed now. She was terrified.

‘There is no need to speak secretly’ the king said. ‘I can see you. Both of you.’

Amaia drew a gasp of fear, White Feather became frozen.

‘I can see you’ the king repeated, staring straight at White Feather. ‘You are young, lean, and have black hair.’

White Feather instantly paled.

‘How is it’ he spoke very slowly, ‘…that you can see me?’

The king narrowed his eyes.

‘How do you have this ability?!’ White Feather spoke louder now. ‘I should be invisible to you, like I was last time I was before you.’

‘A figure in a bird-mask gave me these abilities’ the king replied sombrely. ‘But it only works in this room.’

‘What?’ White Feather snapped. ‘That makes no sense!’

‘There is so much you do not know’ the king said gliding away from him.

White Feather lowered his head, never taking his eyes off the king. ‘And you’ he said to him, ‘do not know as much as you wish.’

‘That is why, you are here to help me’ the king smiled with cruelty. ‘Girl’ he said to Amaia. ‘Come with me.’

White Feather’s heart began to sink into despair as the king led Amaia to the end of the hall, and towards the woman he had become familiar with. The queen, forever sleeping. White Feather stuck close to Amaia as she followed the king, always just one step behind her.

‘This is my wife the queen’ the king spoke in a monotone. ‘She wasn’t my first wife, but she was my first love.’ He turned to face Amaia. ‘I want you to help her’ he said.

Amaia stared down at the woman. Her cheeks were light in colour; her blonde hair was unnaturally bright and grew very long, like her nails. But her nails and hair were clean and washed and had been kept in order. The white dress she wore was clean and fresh. This body was cared for.

‘Help her?’ Amaia spoke weakly, as she gazed into the face of the sleeping queen. ‘But how? What’s wrong with her?’

‘She has been sleeping for a very long time. I want you to wake her up.’

Amaia glanced at the king. ‘I wouldn’t know how.’

‘If you don’t make her better, I will make you suffer until you do.’

‘But…I can’t’ Amaia shook her head backing away, starting to panic now. Her voice breaking as she spoke. ‘I have no idea what’s wrong with her, how would I?’

‘Because you are a Weather Maker like her’ the king answered simply. ‘Help her’ he said. ‘Or die.’

Amaia’s heart grew cold.

The king made the briefest indication to a figure that stood at the edge of the hall, a figure that had stood utterly still until now, one that Amaia had not noticed before. He was a soldier of some kind.

He grabbed Amaia by the shoulders, hurting her as he pulled her away from the queen and back towards the centre of the hall, drawing a knife as he did so.

‘Stop!’ White Feather cried.

‘If you speak again I will put you in chains’ the king told him.

‘Coward!’ White Feather spat. ‘To hurt innocent women like this, and force others to do your dirty work? You’re a dam coward!’

The quiet soldier hesitated, glancing towards the king for instruction.

The king did not break his attention from White Feather, but continued to watch him coolly.

‘Amaia is weak’ White Feather told him. ‘She is young. I am far older than her. More powerful. At least have the courage to do it yourself.’

White Feather stood rigid as he spoke these words, staring back at the king in defiance, waiting to see what he would do.

‘You’re right’ the king said at length. ‘It’s not the girl I should pay my attentions to. It’s you.’

He grabbed the knife from the soldier, and in a few strides was upon White Feather. He swung his fist, knocking the fairy onto his back. The king sat on his chest, using his knees to pin down the fairy’s arms, he held White Feather’s throat with one hand, the other he raise the knife. White Feather was too weak to fight back or attempt to free himself.

‘Coward am I?’ the king said in a deadly whisper.

The king brought the knife closer to White Feather’s face, forcing the point through his left eye.

White Feather began to scream.

Amaia watched silently the whole process, until she was dragged away sometime later, and put back in her cell.

She was unresponsive when food was brought to her, and didn’t respond to the voice of the man who had pushed her tray through the gap beneath the door. She stayed where she was in the centre of the room on the cold hard floor, shaking and sweating uncontrollably.

Amaia sat in her prison, feeling alone and miserable, and desperately worrying for White Feather, who had remained in the hall when she was taken away.

How she hated being parted from him so forcefully.

Amaia gave a steady sigh, feeling ever more depressed and wondering what had happened in her life to make everything go so wrong.

‘I just wanted a normal life’ she sobbed, burying her face in her arms as she held her knees against her chest. ‘White Feather is wrong……my powers are a curse…’

She clamped a hand over her mouth.

‘Oh gods…’ she breathed. ‘I don’t even know if he’s still alive. Would it be worse if he was?’ Tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘What could they be doing to him now…if he is still….?’

That night, she dreamed.

Amaia stepped forward, towards the shadowy figure. She squinted, but could not make out who it was.

And then the figure moved towards her.

Amaia gasped.

‘Mother?!’

Ramana smiled widely. She was exactly as Amaia remembered her in her childhood. Beautiful and full of life, with long black hair cascading down her back.

‘Oh gods…’ Amaia whispered. ‘Is this real? Please, please let it really be you.’

‘I am as I stand before you’ Ramana answered. ‘As you see.’

‘So…you really did die that day?’

Ramana bowed her head. ‘Yes…’

Amaia bowed her head too, the muscles around her eyes twitching as the tears began to rise.

‘I had hope…longed…….with all my heart…….that I would see you again…’ Amaia raised her head. ‘I was looking forward to returning to a family. But without you…and father being the way he is.’

‘Your father was not a perfect husband’ Ramana said. ‘He was not a perfect man………but he had a good heart, and he loved the both of us very much.’

‘I miss you so much…’ Amaia sobbed, tears spilling down her cheeks. You were everything I had…’

‘Oh Amaia…’ Ramana sighed, tilting her head sadly at her. ‘I’m sorry…’

‘Mama…’

Ramana opened her arms and Amaia rushed up to her, embracing her tightly, as if scared she would be taken away again. Ramana held her calmly back, hand resting on Amaia’s head.

‘Amaia…’ she said. ‘My precious treasure.’

‘I love you…’ Amaia whined. ‘I love you so much……I never want to be away from you again! You were the best thing in the world to me.’

‘You have your father’ Ramana answered.

‘But he…’

‘I know’ Ramana whispered. ‘I know…’

‘I couldn’t bear to lose you again…it would destroy me…..I could never…….could never….’ Amaia held her tighter. ‘Mama……I’m sorry….’

‘Amaia’ Ramana smiled, unable to keep back her own tears. ‘You mean more to me than life itself. My own daughter….I have missed you so terribly…’

‘I can’t do this anymore’ Amaia sobbed into her mother’s shoulder. ‘I can’t…I would rather die…’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘I mean it’ Amaia said, still not letting go of her mother. ‘You were the best mother in the world….you were everything I had….’

‘Amaia’ Ramana said more firmly now. ‘You have to find your father.’

‘I can’t, I don’t know where he is! But I don’t care! I just want to stay here with you.’

‘Life goes on Amaia’ Ramana said slipping from her grasp. ‘Life goes on for everyone. It always has.’

‘No!’ Amaia cried as her arms slipped through thin air. ‘Please don’t leave! Please don’t leave me! I need you!’

‘You have to carry on’ Ramana said fading away. ‘You have to find him.’

‘I love you!’ Amaia called to the fading shadow. ‘I can’t do this without you!’

‘I will be here’ Ramana told her. ‘I will always be watching.’

‘MOTHER!’

She was woken abruptly from her dreams by the sound of a key turning in the lock. But she felt no fear; she felt nothing at all, as the dream in her mind began to slip from memory.

She had lost White Feather, both her parents were long gone……nothing else mattered to her now.

She was not afraid.

The door opened and Amaia sat up, seeing a man standing there. He was unlike the other men she had previously seen. He didn’t wear armour; he didn’t even look like a soldier.

Amaia blinked at him, tilting her head towards him. The man spoke.

‘Amaia…’

‘You know my name?’ she mumbled.

‘You have to come with me’ the man said, stepping into the cell and kneeling before her.

‘Why?’

‘I’m going to get you out of here, take you somewhere safe.’

Hope slowly kindled in her heart as the information sunk in.

‘Why would you help me?’

‘I’m your father’ Tristan said hastily to her.

‘No’ Amaia shook her head. ‘You look different to the man who stood next to my mother in that painting in my home.’

‘She is not your mother’ Tristan spoke harshly, taking her by the wrist.

Amaia flinched at this sudden action, but relax slightly. His grasp wasn’t threatening.

‘You’re Tristan’ Amaia said to him as it suddenly hit her. ‘White Feather told me about you.’

‘Your fairy, I know. Now hurry’ Tristan said briskly, pulling her gently to her feet. ‘We have to go.’

Amaia allowed herself to be pulled out of the cell and down the corridor; she saw something curious as she went. Walking in the other direction towards the cell she had just come from, another young woman was being taken by a guard wearing a crest of a wolf running up a mountainside. The woman looked strangely similar to Amaia, she even had green hair. Amaia saw the expression on the young woman’s face as she passed by.

It was terror.

Amaia glanced quickly behind her as she was pulled forwards by Tristan, seeing the woman being pushed into the cell she had just left, and the door slammed shut and locked behind her.

She looked ahead again, stumbling as she followed the prince.

They ran this way and that down the corridors that split and turned and twisted. White Feather had been right, this prison was a maze.

Minutes later as they were reaching the end of the corridor, Amaia saw the mouth of the tunnel was growing larger, opening up to the outside world that shone in a pure white light, beyond which nothing yet could be seen.

‘We have to be quick’ Tristan said hurriedly back to her. ‘The guards will be gone only for a moment. We cannot let ourselves be seen, or else…’ he broke off, and never finished his sentence.

They reached the end of the tunnel and Amaia shielded her eyes at the bright day outside, having become so accustomed to the dark prison behind her, she was temporarily blinded.

‘Come on’ Tristan hastened, pulling her along.

The dazzling open world was a welcoming thing to experience after the cramped and murky cell Amaia had been forced to endure for days. But she left that all behind her now, as the two of them ran across the muddy ground. A narrow river trickling water followed them as Tristan led Amaia towards a lone horse that waited. Amaia glanced back at the tunnel entrance briefly, gasping in shock at the size of the building which sat atop the prison.’

‘The king’s palace…’ she breathed.

Tristan grimaced, pursing his lips but not pausing. The palace was built high into the sky, and was unmistakable. No other building in the kingdom came even close to the prestige and extravagance the king’s home possessed. It was a striking, powerful looking building, but even though Amaia had never seen it before with her own eyes, there could be no mistake. This was the back of the building.

‘The king kidnapped me’ Amaia said. ‘A secret passage to a prison at the back of the palace… what it this?’

‘We cannot linger’ Tristan urged her. ‘The longer we stay…’

‘No!’ Amaia cried, suddenly pulling back from Tristan and trying to free herself from his grasp. ‘White Feather is still in there! We have to go back for him.’

‘We’ve no time.’

’We have to’ Amaia demanded.

‘It’s too late for him.’

‘I won’t leave him!’ Amaia shot firmly back. ‘I would rather die; he risked his life for me.’

‘Amaia’ Tristan said turning back to her, his patience wearing thin. ‘He’s dead.’

Amaia gasped; her whole body beginning to tremble.

‘No…’ she whispered. ‘No…’

Her legs weakened, and she fell to her knees, fainting. Tristan wasted no more time, lifting her in his arms and continuing his way to the waiting horse. He placed her on the saddle of the animal, mounting the chestnut stallion behind her. Holding her in place with one arm so she wouldn’t fall, he grabbed the reins with the other, kicking the horse hard into a gallop and getting as far away from the palace as possible, as fast as possible, until the trees consumed them. Only then did he allow the exhausted animal to slow to a walk.

Amaia began to stir sometime later. Tristan felt her move as she lifted her head groaning, for a moment she just sat there in silence, confused.

‘It’s alright’ Tristan said gently to her, arm still around her waist to support her.

‘Where are we?’ she mumbled.

‘Somewhere safe’ he told her. ‘It’s going to be ok. You’re safe now. I’ll look after you. I’ll keep you hidden.’

‘White Feather’ Amaia sobbed, hands covering her face. ‘He’s dead. How could this happen? Oh White Feather…I’m so sorry…’

‘There was nothing you could have done.’

‘I feel so guilty….this is all my fault.’

‘It’s not!’ Tristan shot angrily at her. ’It’s not your fault.’

‘How could he be dead? He was the most important thing in my life…how could this happen…? Why does this keep happening…? I’ve lost so much…’

‘Shhh’ Tristan said to her. ‘Be still. Everything’s going to be alright now.’

Amaia allowed her eyelids to droop. She fell into an uneasy state, somewhere between dreaming and waking.

When the horse Tristan was guiding finally slowed to a stop, Amaia opened her eyes, looking up to see a rundown thatched cottage in the woods. It was a vast wood; they had not left it since they first entered it some unknown time ago. The cottage looked grim and had long since been abandoned; the garden around it was as overgrown as the forest the cottage was built in.

Tristan dismounted. Amaia feeling too weak to move allowed him to pull her from the saddle and carry her in his arms to the cottage. The door opened before they got there. Two women, one young and one mature stood there waiting for them. Tristan entered the cottage; the older woman closed the door after him.

‘Run a bath for her’ Tristan told the two servants as he lowered Amaia to her feet. ‘Have her washed and dress and put to bed.’

‘Come on dear’ the older lady said, placing an arm around her shoulders and leading her to the next room. ‘It’s all alright now. We’ll look after you.’

Tristan left to go into another room as Amaia was undressed by the two women and led to a bath that was waiting for her. The bath was already full and the water warm. Everything had been made ready for her arrival and everything was laid out for her.

The younger woman took her old dress out of the room to throw it away, as the older lady helped her into the bath. Amaia’s skin had darkened in dirt, and her light green hair which was usually thick and full of volume, now hung down from her skull, thick with grease and filthy.

‘You poor thing’ the lady said, dabbing a clean cloth into the soapy water and beginning to clean her face. ‘You must really have been through something terrible.’

Amaia didn’t answer. In fact she didn’t speak at all. She remained lethargic as they washed her, dressed her, brushed her hair and put her to bed. There, she slept for nearly an entire day.

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