The Girl at the Well Read online

  “Are there no guests tonight?”

  She detected unintended sulkiness in her voice and hoped they wouldn't notice. A dinner with just the family was rare. Tonight of all nights had to be one of them. If only there had been guests, then her parents would barely notice her. Now their full attention would be focused on her.

  “No, we wanted an early night.” Her mother smiled lovingly at her.

  “What did you do today?” her father asked. She tensed up at the question.

  “I picked flowers then sat under a beech tree and read my book.”

  “You brought none for me?” her mother joked.

  When Liralexa picked flowers, she always brought some home to create floral arrangements for the dining room.

  “No, I made flower crowns.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “I remember when I was a boy wandering in those woods,” Cameron said. “Those were good days. Enjoy them, dear.”

  “You look down, sweetheart.” Her mother looked hard at her.

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you look troubled. Tell me, what is bothering you.”

  What should she say? She felt internal panic.

  “Next week, I’ll be seventeen. I feel like my childhood will be over.”

  “Not at all, dear,” her mother laughed.

  “But I must learn the ways of the kingdom.”

  “Yes, but it’s no different than learning to read or write. You will have no responsibilities.”

  “But there’s marriage.”

  “When you are twenty-one. You’ll want it by then.”

  “But I don’t think I’ll love any of the boys here.”

  Cameron pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose again, brushed his dark blond hair off his forehead, leaned his elbows on the table and interlocked his fingers. His normally petulant features transformed to warmth and affection in the presence of his only child.

  “You’re only seventeen, on the border between child and adult. When you turn twenty-one, you’ll feel differently. Those boys will mature and one of them will catch your eye. It worked with me and your mother.” Cameron winked at Stella. She smiled demurely.

  “Enjoy yourself, my dear,” her father continued. “Your future responsibilities are still far away. And you'll be prepared for them when they come.”

  Servants entered the room with potatoes, roast beef, an assortment of vegetables, and bread rolls. Liralexa still had no appetite but to avoid parental interrogation, she forced down a whole plate of dinner.

  The day when truth would reveal itself was seven whole days away. She thought she would go insane waiting. Time dragged that week. It didn't help that she was bored, but she had lost interest in all the things she used to enjoy. During those long-drawn-out tedious moments in time Liralexa had nothing to do but think. And her thoughts frequently turned to very dark places. They swung back and forth between hope and doubt. Doubt though, predominated.

  The day of truth finally arrived. She had desperately wanted it to come but when it did, she wasn’t ready for it. Normally on her birthday she was a bundle of excitement. As soon as the first light of daybreak slipped through her curtains, she leapt out of bed and sprinted to her parents’ room to see her presents. Throughout each year, as they travelled to neighboring kingdoms, they picked up gifts to set aside for the big day. Her parents watched their giggling daughter as she sorted through and admired the clothes, jewelry, books, toys, ornaments and other knick-knacks piled onto a table.

  When Alma entered the room and filled the wash basin with warm water, Liralexa unwillingly got out of bed. She splashed the water onto her face, then stared into the mirror.

  “It’s your birthday, Your Highness.” The young servant girl opened the curtains. “You should be happy.”

  It occurred to Liralexa the girl had waited on her for three years, but she knew nothing about her. Like all the other female servants, she was dressed in a brown skirt, brown waistcoat, white apron and white cap. Her blond hair fell over her shoulders.

  “What region are you from?” Liralexa asked.

  “Sylmor,” Alma answered.

  “When did you leave your home?”

  “Four years ago.”

  “And you were how old?”

  “Twelve, Your Highness.”

  “And your parents, they supported this?”

  “They’re poor, Your Highness. They couldn’t feed us all. So, I was sent away to work.”

  “But you were a child.”

  “Childhood ends early where I come from.”

  “How early?”

  “By seven or so, for most kids.”

  Liralexa was astounded by this. She would be a child until she turned twenty-one. But others in her kingdom were no longer kids by the tender age of seven. A throbbing pain drummed violently on her forehead. Feeling dizzy, she sat down.

  “Are you alright, Your Highness?” the anxious servant girl asked.

  “It feels like the room is spinning.”

  “I’ll get the queen.” She turned to run from the room.

  “No, please don’t. I’ll be fine. I just need to eat.”

  “Are you sure, Your Highness?”

  She stood at the door with her hand over her mouth, torn between obeying her mistress or antagonizing the queen.

  “Yes, I'm sure.”

  Alma remained at the door pondering whether to run for help or stay put. But she didn't have to contemplate the correct course of action for long. Their heads turned simultaneously when they heard a gentle knocking on the door.

  “Can I come in?” Stella asked. Alma opened the door. An elderly servant followed the queen into the room. The old woman held a shiny pale blue dress, with golden buttons in the front, and a large white bow around the waist.

  “I had a birthday dress made for you. The Strages will be your coming out.”

  Liralexa felt the urge to throw up at the mention of the event, but she plastered a fake smile on her face to avoid arousing concern. If her mother thought she was sick, she would leave her at home to rest. She needed to know the truth. Deep down she believed the Step children were telling the truth, but she hoped when she got there it would just be a mundane sporting event. During breakfast, she struggled to eat while her concerned parents attempted to gauge the reason. She hadn’t slept well, she told them.

  Liralexa didn't care about her hairstyle, but she had to choose something. A bun would do. Alma talked a lot while she fixed her hair but the princess didn’t know what was said. Her servant’s words sounded distant and muffled, though she was right next to her. The clanging bell echoed throughout the house. It was time to go.

  Liralexa stepped through the front door, followed by her parents. A golden carriage pulled by eight horses gleamed in the sunlight. Liralexa hitched her dress as she was helped into the carriage by the footman. She felt suffocated when her smiling parents sat on each side of her. Fifty palace guards on horseback accompanied the carriage. There really wasn’t a need for so much protection. Crime was rare in the affluent Golden Region. Liralexa’s grandparents always traveled with a dozen protectors, a practical number for the narrow streets of Golden City. King Cameron and Queen Stella traveled with a large contingent of troops not because they believed they needed so much protection but simply to feel important like the monarchs in large kingdoms who always traveled with enormous entourages. They also didn’t need eight horses to pull the carriage.

  “Surely two would be enough,” Liralexa silently fumed. “Using the portal to get to the city would have been faster but oh no these two have to show off their wealth and finery to everyone.”

  Two horses weren’t enough for the royal couple who loved traveling to Golden City in grandeur, watching heads turn to the refrain of “Make way for your king and queen.” They wanted to impress the crowds who lined the busy city streets.

  Liralexa felt claustrophobic and fought to suppress her rage. She wanted to scream at her parents to please
shut up as their constant chatter and laughter wore on her nerves. She was glum as they made their way down Palace Hill and through the Grand Forest.

  “Why does everything in the Golden Region have to have a dumb, lofty name?” she thought.

  Her parents pointed out sights, but she wasn’t interested. They didn’t know what to make of their normally chatty and upbeat daughter’s bout of moodiness.

  Liralexa didn't care about the buildings as they arrived at the edge of the city. This moment, which she had waited so long to experience, didn’t bring her any pleasure. Her father told her to prepare for the cheering crowds, but she was in no mood for them. She barely registered the lead guard’s constant refrain of “Make way for your king and queen, and Princess Liralexa.” Waving crowds lined the sidewalks hoping for a glimpse of the royal daughter. Liralexa wasn’t interested in waving back.

  “You must wave, dear,” Stella said. “They are here to see you.”

  Liralexa pursed her lips and mechanically moved her hand back and forth.

  Cameron touched her arm to get her attention. “Over there, darling. That’s the stadium. The Vespasium. The first of my many building projects.”

  The oval-shaped stone behemoth standing in the heart of the city astounded Liralexa.

  “Are people really going hungry because of my father’s vanity projects?” she wondered.

  Such a massive building seemed unnecessary. The Golden Region wasn’t heavily populated. In fact, the kingdom her parents ruled was one of the smallest in the known world. But they wanted it to be one of the greatest. That was abundantly clear to her at that moment.

  “The Royal Entrance,” Cameron said, with noticeable pride in his voice.

  Two guards opened an imposing gold-plated gate adorned with decorative scrolls. Once inside, the carriage came to a stop. The horsemen dismounted and two men in matching red and gold robes approached the carriage on each side. They opened the doors simultaneously.

  “Welcome Your Majesty,” each one said, as they took a royal hand. Liralexa followed her father. Many people milled around and dignitaries warmly greeted them. The princess was confused by all the attention.

  Cameron took her hand. “This here is the royal staircase. It’s just for us, our guests, and the servants who look after our needs.”

  The royal family and their guests chatted and laughed as they went upstairs to a booth. They sat at a table laden with roast chicken, bread, cheese, fruits, cakes and wine.

  “The event starts soon,” Stella said.

  “What happens at this event?” Liralexa asked. “No one has ever explained the rules.”

  “It’s easy to follow along,” her mother said hastily.

  A man with a megaphone stood to the side of their booth, facing toward the field.

  “See that man.” Cameron pointed. “He’s an announcer. He will explain what’s happening.”

  A woman approached with a box hung around her neck.

  “Greetings, Your Majesties.” She bowed. Vivacious and upbeat, she handed out strips of paper to everyone at the table. Liralexa wrinkled her nose as she examined hers. It had three empty boxes.

  “Let’s start with you, Your Highness.”

  Liralexa shot the woman a blank look.

  “Choose three cards from the box,” she chirped.

  Liralexa didn’t know what was going on, but she also didn’t care. She pulled out three cards.

  “Dark green, light yellow, and dark red.”

  Her cheery demeanor stood in sharp contrast to Liralexa’s despondency.

  “May I have your slip of paper, your highness?”

  Liralexa handed the paper to her, and she stamped the three boxes with ink matching the colors on the cards. She stood for a moment expecting a thank you from the princess when she handed the paper back to her. Looking like she was under hypnosis, Liralexa mindlessly and wordlessly took the paper. The woman moved onto the queen.

  “There are three rounds,” Cameron explained. “If the colors you chose win all three rounds, you will receive a prize. It makes the event more fun for the audience.”

  Liralexa surveyed the stands. The stadium had four tiers but the top two were empty. She figured the stadium could hold around twenty thousand people but estimated only a quarter that number was there that day.

  Her ruminations were interrupted when the announcer called out, “The players are entering the field. Keep an eye out for dark green, the bearer of fourteen arrows.”

  Liralexa hung her head. It was true then.

  “You have to watch,” Cameron said. “It’s very exciting.”

  Liralexa looked down at the field, her eyes transfixed with horror. She saw a dozen teens wearing short-sleeved shirts of various colors. Each one had a bow, and a quiver slung over their shoulder. She was close enough to see the terror etched on their young faces. A man on the field blew a whistle.

  “The players are scattering,” the announcer yelled into the megaphone.

  The twelve unwilling gladiators ran behind hedges and walls. From Liralexa’s vantage point, she could easily see the players on her side of the field. Her eyes fastened on a girl in a dark yellow shirt creeping alongside a wall. Her eyes darted around, searching for a target. Quick as a flash, she jumped on the wall, let loose an arrow, hit a boy in a light blue shirt in the neck, then fell to the ground breathing convulsively. Liralexa was sickened by the scene but unable to look away. The girl raised her head and briefly locked eyes with the young princess. Through an accident of birth, she was fighting for her life and likely to lose it, while a girl her age sat in splendor taking it all in.

  “Light blue has been brought down by dark yellow.” The crowd erupted in cheers.

  “No!” a man at their table yelled. “I have a light blue stamp. No prize for me today.”

  “Bad luck, Taylor,” another man said. Everyone but Liralexa roared with laughter.

  Feelings of disgust and sorrow overwhelmed her. How, in a supposedly cultured and genteel city, could so many people ignore a dying boy? Her father looked at her, with marks of worry and disappointment traced on his features.

  “Whoa! Dark red’s arrow missed light green by just a hair,” the announcer’s voice boomed. A murmur arose from the crowd. Light green dived for the stray arrow then rolled behind a hedge.

  “That could be a fatal mistake,” a woman declared.

  Liralexa felt like she had been transported to an ancient, primitive culture as she watched each unwilling participant being struck down. She remembered a story Aldrin had read to her years before about beings called analogis. Hundreds of years before in the Kingdom of Tolon, a sorcerer named Divolos developed an ingenious plan to overthrow the ruling family. He abducted representatives of the crown and replaced them with carbon copies called analogis. The analogis began to infiltrate the palace and increase in number. The sorcerer’s goal was to replace the king with a replica who would do his bidding. Each new analogi lured advisers, assistants and guards to a pass in the Origar Mountains where they were laid upon by Divolos and a band of outlaws.

  There was a time when Divolos had little interest in wielding political power. Power over men was nothing compared to the power of magic. But when a group of practitioners of the dark arts called the Maleficium emerged, the king ordered all magicians be hunted down and executed. Even those who spurned the dark arts. Divolos escaped into the mountains where he met a group of outlaws called the Duconid. Many members had been arrested and executed and the rest were seeking revenge. Their leader Ramis agreed he and Divolos should pool their resources and talents to bring down their common enemy. And the plan would have worked if it weren’t for a sage named Cetis. He visited the palace and divined that some members of the king’s retinue and guards were impostors. Using his powers of necromancy, he communicated with the dead and discovered the plot. So devoted was he to the royal family, he put his own life on the line to inform the king. When confronted by the king and his troops, the impostors melted into
nothingness. Cetis was richly rewarded for his loyalty with a position as palace magician. Divolos and Ramis fled to a neighboring kingdom.

  Liralexa knew all the guests seated at the table. They had given her gifts, watched her plays, and praised her musical performances. They doted on their own children. Yet here they were laughing and cheering at children forced to engage in a fight to the death. Were they analogis? Maybe everyone she knew and loved had been replaced by replicas who were more primitive in nature. She wanted to believe it was true. It was too hard to reconcile the kind and compassionate people she cared about with the bloodthirsty creatures around her who drank wine and ate their fill while kids suffered and died in front of them. She could not accept they were the same people. Should she tell Master Caan? He would know what to do. He would inform the Sigils Guild and—. Her justifications abruptly halted. Every magician who entered the Kingdom of the Nine Regions was constrained by a powerful spell which ensured their loyalty to the Abbingdon clan. Within the bounds of the realm, they would be unable to harm them. Maybe her parents and everyone else had been abducted and replaced in another kingdom? An enormous cheer erupted from the crowd jerking Liralexa out of her reverie. A boy in a dark orange shirt was the last participant standing. The beaming master of ceremonies lifted his arm.

  “We have our winner!” the announcer screamed. “Congratulations to everyone with a dark orange stamp.”

  The master of ceremonies handed a gold coin to the dazed boy. Another man took hold of his arm and removed him from the field. The dead and dying children were piled into a corner as the next group of twelve made their way onto the field. Liralexa hung her head. She scolded herself for trying to justify the wickedness of the people around her.