Young Writers Society

Madeline was back in her bed by the time Ayda woke up in the morning. When Cinder suggested the change of plans, Ayda readily agreed, but neither Madeline nor Cinder said anything about Madeline’s reservations. Surely that meant Madeline’s worries had been resolved.

“Today is fine,” said Tel. He stretched his wings out, filling half the room. “I’m ready to fly when you all are.”

“Good,” said Cinder. “You and I can work on provisions. Ayda — ”

“I’m going to say goodbye to my mother.” She just needed to apply a coat of polish to the gift.

Ayda left a short hour later, the finished carving hanging in a bag slung around her neck; the trip to the caverns passed without thought except for what she would be doing in just a few short hours. Flying into danger.

She flew quickly through the tents when she arrived, scanning for a familiar set of wings, mind racing with what she would say to her mother. She wasn’t going to tell her she was leaving. Ayda was sure of that. Mother had already spent too much time worrying about her in the last few weeks. And Ayda had spent too much time worrying about her to wish that on her again. If all went well, she’d be back before Mother knew she had left.

Ayda pointedly didn’t think about what would happen if all didn’t go well.

There she was — Mother was crouching down and talking to a small fairy child in front of that same cloth tent. Ayda landed without a sound behind her mother, watching her carefully.

“Now go play with Tetra, okay?” she was saying. The little girl sniffled and nodded. Her blond hair was tousled and she had no shoes. “I’ll see if I can find you a new one.”

The the girl was gone, vanishing out of sight around the tent.

“Mom, I’m here.” Ayda stepped forward. What was she going to say?

Mother spun around, wings fluttering. “Oh, Ayda, you startled me!” She ran a hand through her frizzy hair.

Then she paused. She looked from Ayda’s expression to the bag that held the carving and back again.

“I have something for you.” Ayda fumbled with the bag, unslinging it from around her neck and holding it out to her. She met her mother’s eyes. They were wide and disbelieving.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” her mother whispered. “You were serious about having a plan — you’re going after her. King Avantor is willing to send a child into battle?”

That was not how this was supposed to go. “No,” Ayda admitted. “He rejected our plan. He’s going to lead a straight-on assault instead. It won't work. So we’re going alone.”

The lines around Mother’s eyes creased as worry wrinkled her face.

“We’ll be back in three days, Mother, I swear,” Ayda said, speaking quietly and quickly. “It’ll all be over. Nadra will be gone. There won’t have to be a war.”

“Who is we?”

“Me, Madeline, Cinder, and a pegasus named Tel. We’ve found a way to get rid of Nadra’s extra magic. Mom, I have to go. I have to free Dad and Nova.”

She waited. Her mother searched Ayda’s gaze, her expression hovering on a knife’s edge.

Then her mother drew in a sharp breath, half-turning to glance across the destitute camp. “You’re right. If I only had a wing’s width of an excuse to go with you.”

Were Mother’s fists actually clenched? Unbidden, tears pricked Ayda’s eyes. “Thank you.”

Ayda opened the bag and pulled out the carving she had made in the last few days. “I thought you should have some company while I was gone.”

It was a replica of the carving she had made for their anniversary, the one she had left on her bed when she ran away to Crescent Moon. Her mother and father, arm-in-arm, together. A rough re-creation, given her time constraints, but there was a simplicity about it which she loved.

It was her mother’s turn to cry — a single tear rolled down one cheek as she took the carving and smiled at Father’s frozen expression, set in the wood. She ran her thumb along his cheek. “I’ll keep him close. Are you leaving now?”

Ayda nodded. “Soon.”

“Just come back, okay?”

“Yeah, duh.” Ayda pulled her mother into a hug. “Saving my family, avenging my home — all of it would be a bit pointless if I just ran off at the end.”

Mother laughed, even though Ayda knew that hadn’t been what she meant, and held Ayda close.

When Ayda returned from the caverns, she found the saddlebags packed and ready by the door. Madeline, Cinder, and Tel sprawled in the center of the room, eating a last meal of spicy dhole — an over-seasoned but popular meat dish — with a side of capibra and boysenberry tarts to finish everything off.

“Ah, she’s back!” Tel exclaimed. He pushed himself up. “Guess it’s time to load them up!” He nodded at the saddlebags.

“If you’re ready already, then let’s go,” Ayda said firmly. She snatched a chunk of capibra and nibbled on it while gathering the few things she needed. The talisman bracelet sat comfortably around her wrist. She left her carving tools behind, but slid the largest knife down the inside of her boot. She wasn’t about to go unarmed, even if it would be little more than a thorn to anyone who attacked her.

They took off from the rooftop again, Madeline climbing on Tel. Ayda sat on her shoulder as usual. She fingered the bracelet, knots twisting in her stomach.

“I’ll follow from below,” Cinder said, flicking his tail. “Fly as fast as you like — I’ll keep pace once we’re out of the city.”

Tel stamped a hoof. “Scouts are a problem. They’ll be watching the air as well as the ground. I know the rotations well enough to get past them. What are you going to do?”

Cinder frowned. “Dragons or pegasi?”

“These days? Mostly pegasi.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I know a few tricks.”

“If you’re sure,” Tel said, drawing himself up in preparation for takeoff.

“I am.” And with a wink and a flash of gray, he was gone, having leapt from the roof to the ground. Tel spread his wings, gave a long neigh, and launched himself into the air. They were on their way to victory.

The sun sank as they flew west, and Ayda was forced to shut her eyes or be blinded. How could Tel see? The chill wind spoke of coming frosts. Now and then, he dove suddenly behind a hill, or hovered for a time in midair, presumably waiting for a patrol to pass.

Was Cinder keeping pace? She couldn’t tell.

They curved around the hills past the waterfall where Ayda and Madeline had tumbled, not even a week ago, into Erinore. Now the city was well hidden from view. In the end, their escape had been easy, with Tel on their side.

The wind was too loud and Tel’s breathing too labored for much talk. When the sun fully slipped beneath the horizon and Ayda could see without squinting, she realized they were almost there. Up ahead, a river widened into a small lake, pooling between two mountains. According to Tel, the ley point was at the mouth of that river.

Was she ready? Yes, but now that Ayda found herself hurtling towards danger instead of fleeing, she was terrified. Maybe that made her brave — continuing on in the face of fear. Or maybe it just made her stupid. Part of her wondered if Evota wouldn’t just take Madeline’s magic, then kill them all.

But something had to be done. And why shouldn’t she be the one to do it?

They landed beside the lake, a long, sweeping descent that ended in cantering along the edge of the water. Cinder emerged from the trees, walking slowly now, tongue hanging out and panting. He had run for hours.

Madeline slid off of Tel and Ayda took to the air again.

“This is it,” Madeline said. She was pale, but Ayda could see the resolve in her face.

“You kept pace with me exactly,” Cinder noted to Tel.

“The wind told me where you were,” Tel said, and for once his voice carried little of its usual flippancy.

“Their pegasi magic,” Ayda whispered to Madeline by way of explanation. “It’s a sacred thing, to them.”

She spoke louder now. “Okay. Everything’s ready. We’ll let Tel rest for a minute, and then we’ll go through.”

Tel, who was already laying down, nickered his approval. They stretched out in silence on the wild moor. The sun soaked into Ayda’s wings. It was so quiet here. It almost felt wrong, to have this corner of untouched beauty when everything else in the Three Kingdoms had been upended.

Cinder’s low voice interrupted her thoughts. “Madeline, Ayda… It’s time I told you I’ve realized something. I can’t come with you.”

Ayda sat bolt upright. “Wait, what? Of course you’re coming. You’re already here.”

She saw fear in Madeline’s face. “You’re going go make us go alone?” the girl said.

Tel whinnied low from behind. “You’re forgetting the horse.”

“Think about it, Madeline,” Cinder said gently. “What will I be doing, really? It’s your talisman. Tel is flying you. Ayda will be the one to touch Nadra. I’d just be along for the ride.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t come,” said Ayda. “What about getting justice? You deserve to be part of this just as much as I do. More.”

Madeline just stared at Cinder, pleading.

Cinder pushed himself to his feet and moved to crouch beside her. “As soon as we’re captured, they will take this talisman and I’ll be hers again, and for what reason? None. And what if we fail? Nobody will know what happened, or the danger once Nadra has taken your magic. No. I’ll wait for you for three days. If you haven’t come back, I will go to the dragon king and tell him to assume the worst… and to strike as soon as possible.” He let out a long breath.

Ayda looked away from Cinder, hugging her arms to her sides. It would be good to have a failsafe. But how could he back out now, when they were so close?

“Ayda,” Cinder said, and there was a hint of reprimand in his voice now. “‘Justice’ will be served whether or not I’m there. My personal revenge doesn’t justify my coming. I’ll just be taken over. There is no point.”

She nodded and suddenly launched herself off of the grass and into flight. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s,” Tel agreed, standing up and tossing his head.

Madeline pulled Cinder into a hug. “Thank you.”

Cinder’s words were soft, so soft that only a faint breeze and Ayda’s fairy hearing allowed her to pick them out. “I wish I could protect you and Ayda, like I couldn’t protect my family. But you don’t need protecting. Not this time.” He gave a small huff. “Just remember to be brave.”

He caught Ayda’s eye, and she knew the words had been meant for her, too. Madeline pulled herself away from Cinder and went to check Tel’s saddlebags. Ayda flew up to Cinder, hovering in front of his long muzzle.

“I couldn’t do what you’re doing,” she said honestly. “You’re right. It’s the smart thing to do. But I couldn’t do it.”

Cinder closed his eyes for a moment, as if remembering. “Xaniphe always said you were a little flame, flickering like mad over anything you set your mind to.”

Ayda smiled at that, even though the mention of Xaniphe felt like a thorn in her heart. She had avoided thinking about him as much as possible these last few days. But Cinder’s deep eyes were more worried than sad.

“Ayda, be careful not to spread too far,” he rumbled.

What was that supposed to mean? “I won’t.” Ayda’s hands twisted in front of her. “Don’t… don’t get into trouble while we’re gone, okay? I want you here when we come back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, almost smiling.

Before she could shy away, Ayda darted forward and placed a light kiss between Cinder’s two triangular ears. A gesture reserved for a close friend. The closest Ayda had, save perhaps Madeline.

Cinder shook himself as he got to his feet. “I’ll make the portal for you. It’s the least I can do.”

“Ready?” Madeline asked Ayda.

“Ready.”

“Hey, I’m ready too,” Tel said, swishing his tail, half-amused, half-annoyed. “Been standing here for ages while you three were being sentimental.”

Cinder opened the portal, sketching the pattern rapidly with his magic, and soon a swirling vortex hung in front of them. At nod from Cinder, Madeline stepped through, Ayda with her, Tel right behind. Back into Arvania. Back home.