The Forbidden Compass Trilogy: Book One- Caged

Mahna

Mahna slips out of the water, dressing behind the screen of a golden-leaved weeping willow. She’s finishing lacing her ragged over-corset when she hears the sound of pounding hooves. She drops to the ground as a group of horses stop by the stream. A pair of shiny leather boots land in front of her, so close she could reach out and touch them. She can’t see the face of the man attached to the boots, but his voice is undeniable.

“She can’t have gotten far! We need to find her and the others she’s traveling with. Who knows what they are forcing her to do! I will not rest until Lady Mahna is mine!” Prince Gormand’s voice shouts at his men, sending Mahna’s blood stone cold in her veins. She stifles a gasp as he mounts and they gallop off with a storm of thundering hooves. She finishes lacing her corset, the laces slipping with water and her sweat, racking coughs from the dust the horses kicked up slowing her down.

She tries to fly back to camp, but her wings are still wet, and she tumbles to the ground. She gets back up and starts running, slipping on fallen leaves wet with dew and stumbling around branches that cling to her. Her wings are heavy and throw her off balance several times. She enters the camp, breathless and panting.

Fenn stands, setting down the arrow he was making. “What’s wrong?” Krade and Irelle rise behind him, gazes imploring.

Mahna doubles over, gasping for breath. “Bounty hunters!” She gestures blindly behind her, “They’re looking...for us. We have to leave!” The others act quickly. Soon the camp looks as if no one had ever set foot in it. They run through the forest, dodging around trees and trying to be silent. Mahna can hear the sound of beating hooves in her ears, yet every time she looks behind her, nothing is there.

Her wet wings are heavy and tipping her balance against her. She falls behind then she’s on the ground. She lies there, too exhausted to move, wet leaves clinging to her still dripping hair. Fenn turns back, grabbing her hand and dragging her to her feet. “We have to keep moving, just a little farther.” She feels the burning in her muscles ease as Fenn gives her strength, and she starts running again.

They enter a glade, a small cottage sitting in the center. Fenn drags her to the door. “Maybe we can hide here!”

“Are you crazy!” Irelle yells at him, face red from either anger or exhaustion.

He turns back. “We don’t have much choice! We can’t run forever!” He knocks on the door. Irelle curses in Mer, but stays. The door opens, revealing a small, white-haired, old woman leaning on a cane.

“Please, can we hide here? We have bad people chasing us, and we need somewhere to hide.” Mahna begs.

She can see the old woman’s green gaze flitting between Fenn’s pointed ears, Irelle’s flared fins, and her and Krade’s wings. Mahna waits for her to turn them away. Instead she nods, “Come in.” She steps back from the door, and they all file in. She settles them down into the center of her home, before the fire. She sits in a rocking chair and begins knitting. Mahna holds her breath as the sound of hooves halts outside.

A knock comes from the door. Mahna tenses and clenches Fenn’s hand, which she is still holding. The old woman gets up, brandishing her knobbed cane, and answers the door. The door blocks their view, and anyone else’s, but Mahna can still hear Gormand’s voice through the crack the woman has open. She squeezes Fenn’s hand tighter.

“Have you seen a girl with hawk wings, accompanied by a boy, a girl with fins, and a boy with reptilian wings?” He asks.

“No. I have not seen a fairy, elf, mermaid, and dragon traveling together. I may be old, but I know what they are! You young’uns are so rude these days!” She slams the door in his face. He knocks again. She answers it.

“I never said anything about an elf.” He accuses.

Mahna waits for her to turn them in, but she retorts, “I know you are looking for the half-bloods. The mer, the elf, the dragon, and the fairy. The weaver, the thief, the murderer, and the lady. You’re hunting them like every other sorry bounty hunter in the Four Corners! Now, leave me in peace!” She slams the door in his face again and sits back in her chair.

He knocks again, but receives no answer. “I am a prince!” He shouts at her, cursing.

“Not my prince! This is Tirroi, No Man’s Land, and there are no princes here!”

He curses but stomps back to his horse. Mahna lets out the breath she had been holding as the sound of hooves recedes.

Mahna lets go of Fenn’s hand. “Thank you…”

“Aidel, just Aidel. And no need for thanks.”

Irelle studies her suspiciously. “How do you know so much about us?”

Aidel chuckles. “Everyone knows about you, dear. You are causing quite a commotion in Megnia and the Four Corners. Everyone is hunting you four.” She gestures at them with her knitting needle, rocking back in her chair.

“Why?” Fenn asks, massaging his hand.

Aidel chuckles again. “Why? Because you are powerful! You don’t even know the extent of your abilities. Everyone is racing to get you, use you for their purposes, as weapons, power sources, and other, hidden, reasons.” She chuckles again. “Krade, you can not only make more fire than any other dragon, you can control it. Irelle, your voice is the most powerful among mer, and you can move water without it. Mahna, you can control earth and fly. And, you, Fenn, you can heal others and nearly anything in an instant, making you almost invincible. You have more powers than any elf, and I should know.”

Irelle stands up accusingly. “How do you know our names? And what do you mean by ‘and I should know?’ And why did you help us if everyone is hunting us?”

Aidel stands up as well, looking stronger, younger. She smiles what Mahna thinks is an evil smile. Mahna stares as she changes from an old, wizened woman to a young one. Her wrinkles disappear, revealing a beautiful face. Her frizzy white hair changes brown and elegantly straight. Her ears point out from beneath it. Her old rags change into an elegant black and dark green dress. Her cottage morphs into a giant room of dark crystal. She stands before them, strange and beautiful, arms upraised. Power radiates off her.

She’s terrifying.