Book 1, Chapter 2                                                                                                                           

            “Here, Alaysa.” Issie’s voice startled her. Her sister stood just inside the barn door holding out white and red pieces of cloth in her hand.

            Alaysa took a deep breath and filled her lungs with the familiar, reassuring smell of hay. Her heart slowed. She always felt better surrounded by the smells of Pen’nBru and now it soothed her fear. She took the flags from Issie and left the barn. Her father had planted the pole just behind the house. He didn’t want her to become lost in a storm. She had laughed, saying that she probably would not go out in the storm to warn them of it because it would already be happening. Now, Alaysa wished the pole had been planted far up the hill so she’d have an excuse to get away from the strangers inside the cabin. From her future husband.

            She pushed the wooden toggles on the white flag through the rope hoops dangling from the pole and pulled on the rope until the next set of hoops came up. When she had slid the last toggle of the second flag into the hoop she hefted the rope with quick, long strokes, raising the flags to the top. The cloth unfurled in the steady breeze. Alaysa returned to the barn.

            She grabbed a pitchfork and dug its long forks into the hay pile. She figured hard work would keep her mind off her marriage. Issie climbed up onto one of the stalls, her legs swinging bump, bump against the wood. Alaysa struggled under a heavy load of hay that she dumped in the middle of the barn floor. She carried a small pile of hay to the front of each of the stalls to feed the cattle her father would soon bring down from the mountain.

            ‘He’s so old.’ The thought jumped into her head all of a sudden. She nearly tripped over her feet. The twines of the pitchfork dug into the soft dirt, stopping her from falling. All she could see was his battle-scars and his gray hair. ‘Why did they pick someone so old to be my first?  He won’t live long enough to see if one of his children grow to be  the Chosen One.’

            Cowbells jangled in the distance as she walked outside for another load of hay. She shielded her eyes against the setting sun. Three dark figures, her father and brothers, followed a herd of brown and white cows past the bushes where she and Issie had collected berries earlier. The cows ambled down the hillside. She stuck her pitchfork into the crisp pile of straw and lugged it back inside. Issie had fallen asleep on a pile of blankets just inside the door. Alaysa finished filling the last few stalls at the back of the barn then strode outside, covering her eyes against the lowering sun.

            Arms wrapped around her waist and she felt her body lift off the ground. She squealed as fingers found a ticklish spot at her waist. The pitchfork slipped from her hand.

            “Has the world come to an end?” a voice spoke in her ear.

            “Andrew, put me down,” she couldn’t help but laugh.

            “Tell me,” he said, squeezing her tighter against his stomach, “Has the world come to an end?”

            “What do you mean?” she giggled. He lowered her to her feet. She picked up the pitchfork from the ground.

            Andrew smiled, “The world must be ending if you are doing our chores.”  He brushed a lock of curly white hair back from his face. He had a way of smiling that made any girl’s heart melt, but Alaysa always saw through it. She could see when he teased her and gave it right back to him. Her father called them the twins even though Andrew was two years older.

            “Just thought I’d help,” she said, then looked at her father. “We have guests.”

            “Saw the horses,” her father said. He pulled off his heavy outer coat and hat and hung them on a peg just inside the barn door. He glanced at Jake who had been sidling over to a fence post. “Don’t sit down yet. You’re not finished. Go let the cows in.”

            With a groan, Jake angled away from the fence and headed toward the inside of the barn. As he walked past Alaysa, she heard him mutter beneath his breath. Jake did not like farm chores. He wanted to go to the city like Andrew had last year, but his school grades did not warrant his turn at the college. If he could bring his grades up, then their father would allow him to go. He, too, had the thick, white hair of his father, but he wore it cut short around his head.

            “Alaysa, we can finish up here,” her father said, “Go see if your mother needs any help.”

            “Are you sure?” she asked, “I could-”

            “Inside,” he said, holding out his hand for the pitchfork. His stern eyes betrayed concern. “Tell your mother we’ll be in soon.”

            Alaysa handed the pitchfork to her father. She walked past Andrew. “Just who are our guests?” he asked.

            She stopped to respond.

            “Andrew,” her father called. “Here. Now.”

            Alaysa stepped back inside the barn, nudged her sleeping sister, and they walked across the yard together. She didn’t want to go into the cabin, but she had no where else to go. No other chores to do. Quietly opening the door, she slipped in and moved over to the cook stove. Issie woke in the heat of the kitchen, and when Alaysa set her down, she went around to the bedroom. Sir Jackson had sat down close to the fire on a bench. It groaned each time he reached forward to stir the coals. Dardon still sat in Pa’s chair. He and Mam chuckled over something he said. He had barely glanced at Alaysa as she entered. Sir Jackson continued to stare into the flames.

            Baked pies cooled on the counter top. Issie brought Jessie and Janey out of the bedroom and all three sat down at the kitchen table. Alaysa smiled at them. She remembered the joy in her parents’ eyes when Issie, then Jessie had been born. They could not believe more children had come into their lives. They gave thanks to the gods, and when Janey came along a year later, her parents gave thanks again but added that the gods could cease their generosity.

            Alaysa pulled out two small plates. She dished out some of the stew from a pot hanging over the fireplace. Sir Jackson had pulled out the hot iron spindle and held the pot in place so Alaysa could dish out the food without getting too close to the fire. She noticed calluses and scars on his hands. Why couldn’t it be someone younger?

            She mumbled her thanks and returned to the table to place the plates in front of the children. Jessie dipped his spoon into his food. Alaysa sat beside Janey to feed her. She tried to listen to her mother’s conversation with the two men, but her father and brothers chose that moment to arrive.

            Mam introduced the visitors. Pa politely nodded at the mayor and spoke a welcome. Andrew started to ask Sir Jackson a question but Mam stopped him, saying dinner would be burnt by the time they actually sat down if they kept pestering their guests. Pa took his spot at the head of the table and Mam gave up her spot opposite Pa to Dardon. Sir Jackson sat to Pa’s left and Mam to Dardon’s left.  The mayor sat on the other side of Jake, his son.

            Alaysa had put the two young children in Pa’s chair where they curled up and fell asleep. Alaysa sat beside Andrew opposite Sir Jackson, Jake and Len as if his protection would deter these strangers from their errand. Andrew smiled and winked at her. Andrew, the oldest, had always kidded her about her straight black hair with its streaks of red, where the rest of them had short, curly, white hair. But too nervous to acknowledge his teasing, she only looked at her plate.

            After a brief prayer of thanks to his god, Dardon accepted the platters of food Mam passed to him. Alaysa, normally famished, took very little of the steaming potatoes, fresh carrots, roasted lamb and hot bread. She picked at her food and listened to the conversation around the table. Dardon spoke mostly about the court gossip and mentioned how the prince enjoyed his father’s lavish dinners that would last until the sun rose the next morning. Dardon tried to bring Alaysa into the conversation, but she only smiled and spoke a few polite words in response.

            Pen’nBru continued to suffer from the plague that killed every living thing on the land, and each day the estates of more and more barons shrank. Those who had lost all of their property had come to live in Christentown until they could arrange passage across the great ocean to the new land. It was a sad time as the Emperor lost more and more of his people and his kingdom shrank. Alaysa thought that the prince should be spending less time in parties and more time trying to help his father and his people. She spoke her thought out loud and was answered with silence. She squirmed thinking she had been impolite. She opened her mouth to apologize, but the priest interrupted her.

            “He is still young,” Dardon said. “About the same age as Andrew.”

            “But does he not feel any responsibility?” she said, looking at Dardon.

            “No, I don’t believe he does yet,” Dardon said, leaning forward. “What would you do if you were the prince?”

            “Well,” she said, glancing around the table. Her family all looked at her, especially the mayor who studied her through half-closed eyes. “I would try to find the next Lady of the Lightfire, for she would help the prince.”  She remembered the stories she had heard at the festivals about the ancient Ladies of the Lightfire and the magnificent battles they had fought against Lord Zaren.

            Jake chuckled, “The Ladies are not real. They are just part of a story made up to give us hope. Everyone knows the plague will destroy Pen’nBru and that we’ll all have to move far away someday.”  He reached for another slice of bread.

            “Not in our lifetimes,” Pa said, his voice feverish, “I will see that my grandchildren will live on this ranch.”           

            Alaysa glanced at her father. She had rarely heard him speak in a harsh tone, and for him to do so in front of guests made her feel uncomfortable. Mam said nothing but did look at him with a warning tilt to her head that warned him to be careful.

            Dardon spoke, glancing at Jake. “They say there is one more Lady to be found yet.”

            “One more?” he asked, “It isn’t a story?”

            “No, not at all. There were six in total. Only five have been found,” Dardon explained.

            “How would you know her?” Andrew asked.

            Alaysa put her fork on her plate but did not take her hand away. She held her breath. Maybe they weren’t here to take her away to be married. Maybe they were here to seek out the Chosen One, maybe even the Lady. But they couldn’t be here to test her. She was too old. Issie?  Her sister was the right age.

            “Through tests,” Dardon said, “We are always searching for any young women who may show a unique talent.”

            So they were here to seek out the Lady. Alaysa thought of all the girls she had met in the village. Could they mean Jessica who could sew clothes for anyone with such skill that she had become the mayor’s favourite tailor?  Or perhaps Nellie, who had shown healing skills at a young age?  Or could it be Lizan, Andrew’s girlfriend, who spoke up for anyone who had been wronged and settled all arguments quickly and successfully?  She thought of many of the other girls in the village and realized they all seemed to have a unique ability for something. Any one of them could be the next Lady.

            “Ready for pie?” Mam spoke, breaking Alaysa’s train of thought. She rose to help clear the dishes while her mother served dessert. She sat as Mam poured steaming tea into mugs.

            “What kind of talent?” Jake asked, taking and passing a mug to Sir Jackson.

            “Oh, anything that seems a little out of the ordinary,” Dardon said. “Just last month we had heard about a girl who could fly about in the air. When we arrived at the village, we found a girl who could fly with the help of ropes. Seems her family wanted to start up a fair and someone had spied on their act.”

            “A flying Lady,” Andrew chuckled. “Wouldn’t that have been something?”  He nudged Alaysa with his elbow. She grunted, her mouth full of pie.

            “So what has brought you here?” Jake asked. “Ouch!”  He reached beneath the table and shot a look of hatred at Andrew.

            “Well,” Dardon said, “we’ve heard about your sister.”

            “Which?  Ouch! What?” Jake cried out.

            Alaysa glanced up and met Dardon’s eyes. His gaze did not waver. She looked down at her mug of tea and wished someone would say something. Her own voice had vanished.

            “My brother speaks without thinking,” Andrew muttered.

            Alaysa could feel her heart pounding in her throat. Neither Issie nor Janey had shown any extraordinary ability. Only she had. And now she wished she could hide under the table.

            “We will discuss this further,” Pa spoke up. “Later. The children have to be put to bed.”

            Alaysa jumped up from the table and gathered up the children. They protested as she hurried them into the bedroom, promising to read to them only if they’d hurry. Andrew and Jake went out to the barn to sew up some of the harnesses. She wished she could go out to the barn with her brothers. Anything to get out of the cabin, away from Dardon. She curled up with Janey to read the book and didn’t mind reading it a second time when Jessie asked.

            And when they fell asleep, Alaysa lay still so she could eavesdrop on the conversation in the kitchen. She could make out very few words. The door opened and Andrew and Jake returned. She heard them hang up their coats, bang their boots on the floor as they pulled them off their feet and pull up chairs next to the fire. Jake made a comment about the rain having started. Her father muttered something and Andrew grunted. A chair creaked and her oldest brother appeared in the doorway.

            “You can’t hide in here forever,” he said. He leaned his long body against the inside of the door.

            “I’m not the one, am I?” she asked, “I mean, I don’t feel any different. And I can’t do anything special. Anyone can tell when the weather is going to change.”

            “Then come out,” Andrew said. “Let’s talk to the priest.”

            She rose out of bed and paused to tuck the blanket around the younger children. As she walked past her brother, he said, “You’re probably not special at all.”