Chapter Two

Orinda and Arabella flew across the desert towards Harte’s Hill. The desert had once been a lush forest with plenty of game to hunt. That had been centuries ago. A great fire dragon had come to this land and scorched away the life. Even the dirt had burned. The wind had shifted the ash around and covered the damage over the centuries. Occasionally a white bone of a petrified tree would be uncovered for a few decades but then to would eventually be recovered again. Sometimes the bones belonged to men who had wandered out onto the sands only to die days later crazed with exposure to the sun and heat.

Orinda chose Harte’s Hill for to reasons. One it was right in the middle of the barren wastelands. Two it was where the fire dragon had made its lair while devastating the land around it. There was still dragon magic clinging to Harte’s Hill. The hill was burned black from the constant dragon fire. The dirt here had actually melted into small grain of black glass. The dry whirlwind set the pair down on top of the hill. Arabella stepped away from her mother and looked around. Ever the curious child she began to poke around in the glass unearthing an enormous fossilized stag’s skull. The skull was black. Whether it was black from age or black from dragon fire, Arabella could not tell.

Orinda stood over her daughter and watched as the child finished brushing away the glass sand. She bent and grasped the skull by its horns. In silence, they both walked to the edge of the hill. At the edge of the top, Orinda walked in ten paces and placed the skull down. She made sure that the sightless gaze looked north toward Kuhlbert. She stepped back beside Arabella and raised her arms. She closed her eyes and began whispering an incantation. Arabella strained to her the words, but they were too softly spoken for her to hear.

Arabella whirled around when the skull was heaved upward. Eyes wide, she stared at the thing, wondering if it was actually coming back to life and growing a new body. She knew that it would be normally impossible, but she also know that her mother could do anything with her magic. She was relieved when the black sand began to come together in the shape of a building, not an animal. Blocks and spires began to grow taller. In fact, an entire castle seemed to grow out of the ground. It was as if Harte’s Hill was disgorging its bones. When the castle was still the skull was mounted above an enormous archway leading into a walled courtyard and then into a large hall.

Arabella knew this place. It was laid out the same as Waldemarr’s palace. She wondered if her mother had even formed the thrones and crib inside the hall.  She raced inside and was disappointed not to find a crib and baby. She took out the baby pink ribbon from her pocket and tied it in her hair. Arabella began exploring the castle which had sprung up at her mother’s will. Chairs, table, curtains, beds, and other furnishing had appeared as well. The only differences that Arabella could see was that her mother had left the walls black as a reminder of where the castle came from and that there were no other people in the castle.

Orinda renamed the hill to Cardew – from the black fort. She had created a fortress in which to hide. She was going to protect herself and her daughter from the revenge of Waldemarr. She was sure he would chase after her and attempt to get her to remove the curse on his only child. He would have to find her first. Then he would have to cross the desert and climb a glass hill in order to even hope of reaching her. Cardew sat on the black hill like the fire dragon had long ago. From the top of the walls, Arabella thought she could see as far as Kuhlbert to the north and the mountains in the hazy distance to the south. Nothing but the wind moved beneath the shadow of the walls. The nights were as quiet as the days.

Arabella spent her days playing in the courtyard and studying beside her mother’s hearth. The servants that cleaned and feed them were invisible. Arabella thought that they might be people or even fairies, but they never spoke. She only heard the rustle of sheets as the bed straightened itself or the clink of silverware as the dishes stacked themselves in soapy water. Sometimes she waltzed with the brooms and mops as they cleaned the floors. At other times, she threw her dresses around her bedroom just to see them float up and dance back into her wardrobe.

On her eighth year, small black birds with yellow spots on their wings arrived and nested under the eaves of the towers. They would wake early and fly off across the sands and return with interesting bits of nesting materials -- green blades of long grass, pieces of string, and even someone’s hair. Arabella would lie along the ledge of the windows and watch the nesting birds for hours. One pair of black birds just could not get their nest right. They would spend days building it only to turn around and pull it down in less than an hour. The nest would crash down to the black sand far below.

After ugly baby birds were born, the couple pulled down their latest creation and seemed to give up on nesting. Arabella noticed something odd about the ground below the nesting site. She had watched the nest crash to the ground and scatter as it hit. Arabella squinted. Was that a green patch of ground? She raced down the tower and outside to investigate this patch of not-black ground. Plants were actually growing around the base of the tower. The seeds that had been stuck in the nests has planted themselves and germinated. Excitedly she rushed to tell her mother. Her mother sorted through her book stacks and handed her a book on plant and herb care. Arabella sat day after day at the bottom of the tower studying her book and caring for the plants.

There were three different types of grass, two types of wildflowers, and what looked like a small tree. They struggled against the harsh conditions and the poor soil to survive. Arabella watered and tended to them. She even found a spell to say over them to make them grow. The next day after she cast the spell they were dead. The summer had come and withered the plants. Orinda found her sitting on the ground hugging her book to her chest.

“What is wrong?” she said.

“There dead,” Arabella stated. “I cast a spell on them and I killed them.” She began to sob quietly.

“Now dear. Which spell did you use? Repeat it to me,” Orinda knelt down next to her daughter. She repeated the spell. “That is right. No. You did not kill them, but you did not help them either. The desert is what took them away. It is too hot and too barren for anything to grow. Pick your flowers and let us go in before it gets too hot.” Orinda waited until her daughter picked the small flowers then hand in hand they went inside.

Arabella pressed her small flowers in her plant book and put it on top of her wardrobe. Later she watched the invisible servants take the dried out grasses and the small tree away. She also began to wonder, what other dead things the invisible hands took away. She glanced up at the bird colony, but they seem to be thriving. They were lucky. The babies would grow up soon and learn to fly. They would be able to fly away and see more wonderful things. They would be able to sit in a tree, walk in the grass, and even chase bugs through field of flowers. Arabella felt a longing pull at her. She wanted to go somewhere – anywhere. She wanted to fly away like a bird and end up in a tree in some green land.

That night she walked through her mother’s chamber and she ran her hand across the crystal ball sitting on a small table. She meant only to just pass by, but she paused with her hand on the ball. She looked deep within and something large moved in the mist. It was dark and serpentine. I flexed its wings and then curled up again. Arabella slowly removed her hand and rubbed it against her dress. She stared into the ball, but the vision was gone. She could not decide what she had seen, but she had the feeling that something sinister and benevolent had moved in the world.

Arabella cut her hair short when she turned thirteen. She took her mother’s sewing shears and stood before her mirror. After a moments thought she bent over and cut her hair off within an inch of her head. Brown curls fell down around her feet in a pile. It was almost as if she could hear the shrieks of the invisible watchers. She put the shears down and studied herself in the mirror.

“Daughter,” Orinda raced into the room. “What have you done?” Orinda clasped a hand under Arabella’s chin and turned her head this way and that. “Why?”

“Because,” Arabella pushed away. “Because it seems as if someone else is here. Look, mother, the girl in the mirror is someone new that I haven’t met yet. I think we might be able to be friends, her and me.” Orinda looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “Mother, I am tired of being alone. I want to talk to someone new. I want something to change.” Her mother closed her eyes. Then she looked at Arabella with a look of sadness.

“We can not have anyone come here. They would tell Kuhlbert and then they would send an army to die in the desert.” She studied Arabella, letting her words sink in. “Come with me,” Orinda took Arabella’s hand and led her outside. They stopped in the middle of the courtyard. Orinda dropped her hand and then pointed to the sun. Instantly the sky clouded over and white flakes floated downward.

“What is this,” asked Arabella? She held her hand out and caught one of the flakes which melted on contact.

“It is called snow,” said Orinda.

“It is water,” Arabella licked it off her hand. “Amazing.” Arabella danced with the snow flakes. Orinda pulled out a small book from somewhere and handed it to her. The snow kept falling even after Arabella got cold and went inside. “How did you do it,” she asked her mother?

“You should read that book,” Orinda said. “But I will tell you that the snow storm outside is normal in some parts of the world at this time of year. It gets so cold that water freezes. This snow storm was destined for the mountains to the south of us. I just diverted it. It is nearly impossible to create a snow storm in the middle of the desert in the middle of the summer. Too dry and too hot. Now go study.”

Arabella sat near the fire and read the book on weather control her mother had given her. The pile of her hair had disappeared and every time she glanced at her reflection she was startled by the strange girl the stared back at her. Her mother left the room as candles seemed to light themselves. Something deep in the crystal ball flared brilliantly red. Then the mist darkened back down to gray. Arabella carefully stroked the surface of the ball and something darker then the normal gray swirled in the mist. She laid her hand flat along the surface.

“Where did all the snow go to,” a stray thought entered her head. She jerked her hand away. She has seen her mother’s visions in the crystal ball, but as far as she knew none of the visions spoke. She shook her head and raced up the stairs with her book.

In the morning, all the snow was gone. It was still cold, but the day was warming up quickly. It did not look as if the snow had melted because the ground was not wet. It had simply disappeared. She tried to summon the snow back. After working at it for three hours she nearly passed out with exhaustion. Even failed magic extracted energy from the user. She went to bed with a bad headache and feeling sad because the snow would not come back.