The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [91]
‘And?’
‘We’ll take it from there.’
‘So I wait again?’
‘I know you’ve been waiting a long time, Jarrod.’
‘Generations,’ he said.
‘A little longer won’t be too hard.’
They rode for a few more hours and the terrain became luxurious. Ripe grain swayed in the wind, and stacks upon stacks of hay were piled up in the corners of freshly mowed fields—the collective energy resonating from Treeon made for fertile surroundings and enlightened farmers. They stopped by a stream to water the horses and share a meal, the smell of alfalfa mixing with the hint of apple cider.
‘How close are we?’ Jarrod asked.
‘It’s just over the rise.’ Nell held him back when he tried to stand. ‘Patience. We’re nearly there.’
When they reached the cliffs above Treeon, Jarrod let out a shrill hawk whistle. ‘That’s quite a view,’ he said.
Nell didn’t answer. She stared out over the valley while untying her hair. She fished her black-cowl robe from her pack and secured the fur-lined one to the saddlebags. Flipping up the hood, she moved off towards the descent.
‘Good luck,’ Jarrod called to her, retreating back into the woods.
‘I won’t be long.’ She twisted in her saddle to face him. ‘Why don’t you hunt us up something nice for dinner while I’m away? Girls,’ she called, smiling at the Three Sisters, ‘give him a hand, will you.’
Jarrod mumbled, rolling his eyes as the Sisters flapped and cawed in the branches above him.
The gates of Treeon hadn’t changed at all. They stood tall and imposing just as Nell remembered. She took a deep breath, shielding her thoughts and schooling her manner. Whatever happened, the last thing she wanted was for Makee to discern that the spell had been here, right within reach. The guards approached and asked a few questions before returning to the guardhouse, whispering between themselves. Nell smiled. This is one visit that Makee and An’ Lawrence were probably not prepared for.
She touched the blade strapped to her thigh, trusting she’d made the right choice.
‘Nellion Paree,’ the female guard spoke. ‘Re’gad will escort you to the Temple. You can ask for an audience there.’
‘I hardly need an escort. I was walking these halls before you were born.’
The woman looked up, her composure unruffled. ‘No doubt. Still, we’ll stick to tradition, shall we?’
Nell smiled obligingly. ‘Of course.’
She rode along the cobbled thoroughfare to the main courtyard, falling into her memories. The trees had grown, making the massive statues in the plaza seem smaller but so much more alive. There were many students rushing about, but then, it was midmorning. Most would be on their break. In front of the temple steps, Re’gad, who had said nothing as they rode, nodded for her to wait. He trotted up the steps to the temple doors, whispering to the attendant. Within seconds, the doors swung open and La Makee came rushing out, red hair flaming behind her. She descended halfway and stood, legs apart, her left hand on the hilt of her sword, her right shielding the sun from her eyes.
‘About to spar, Makee, or do you always wear your sword in the temple these days?’
‘Nellion! What a pleasant surprise.’
Nell lowered her voice. ‘So we’re going to be civil?’
Makee eyed her up and down. ‘What are you doing here?’
Nell dismounted, pulled the reins over her mare’s head and handed them to Re’gad. He looked surprised. ‘Mind her for a moment, will you, lad? I won’t be long.’ She winked at him and went up the steps to stand square in front of Makee. She leaned down to kiss her right cheek, then her left, then her lips—the contact so light she barely touched her soft skin. Then she stood back, her arms relaxed at her sides.
‘Can’t a mentor come to visit her student? It’s been a year. I want to know where she’s been apprenticed and how she’s doing. I’ve had no word for months.’
Makee studied her before answering. ‘This is such a shame. If you’d only written first, you’d have known that she’s travelling.’
‘Travelling?’
‘Off on a training task with the Sword Master.’
‘Is she his apprentice now?’
‘She’s in the running.