Finally Rafe broke the silence. “Maggie. I need a small favor.”
Magdalene laughed. “Don’t you always, young man?”
Rafe gave her a small smile. “We need you to change Aurora’s appearance.”
“What?” I spluttered. “Now?” I shook my head vigorously to emphasize the fact that I was not happy about this. “Aunt Serena, can’t I have some more time?”
My aunt shook her head. “I’m sorry, my dear, but it has to be done.”
“But, but . . .” I said to no avail.
They both ignored me, and Rafe continued speaking to Maggie. “Something understated; she must blend in.”
Magdalene nodded. “Absolutely.” She leaned over to me. Before I knew what she was doing, she ran her hands over my hair, and then one hand over my eyes and face.
“Done.”
“What’s done?”
I looked around for a mirror, and Magdalene took a small silver one from a nearby shelf and handed it to me. I clasped the silver handle and brought it to my face. I was aghast; she had changed my beautiful black hair to a mousy brown color. Gone were my raven-black locks. I touched the back of my head and only felt a soft mop of cropped hair. She had cut off my hair! And my eyes . . . instead of emerald green, they were brown, and not a nice brown; it was a bit like the color of mud speckled with dirt. I hated this look. It just wasn’t me.
I looked at Magdalene hopefully. “Couldn’t you have made me blonde and blue-eyed?”
Magdalene chuckled. “We want you to blend in, not stick out like a sore thumb, my girl.”
Rafe nodded solemnly. “Yes, Maggie. This is perfect.”
Aunt Serena inspected me closely. “Now she doesn’t resemble Azaren or Elayna and looks quite unobtrusive. Thank you.”
“Glad to be of service, my dears,” said Magdalene, still chuckling to herself.
At least Maggie hadn’t changed the shape of my face or added any unpleasant features like a hooked nose or a huge wart, so I decided I could live with it.
Aunt Serena got up. “We must be on our way. It’s a long journey to Greystone, and I want to get there before nightfall. At least we will be able to sleep in a proper bed tonight.”
I was glad to hear that. Camping under the stars was okay for a few nights, but I didn’t want to make a habit of it.
“I am so glad that you brought this child to see me,” said Magdalene. “I never thought I would ever get to see a fae-mage again.” She stood up and turned to me, taking my face between her leathery hands. “You have a great destiny, little one. Choose your battles wisely, and do not let your pride get the better of you. A wise queen is a just and humble one.”
We all thanked Magdalene and rode off through the forest, toward the town of Greystone, where we would be able to spend the night and pick up supplies.
Soon we reached the gates of the little town, which was surrounded by moderately high but crumbling stone walls. It was situated on the banks of the Pinebrook River, which wound its way through Dewberry Valley and into the Stardust Sea. A small castle rose up near the town walls. It looked run down and quite bleak, very different from Silverthorne Castle.
“Who lives in that castle?” I asked Rafe as he rode up beside me.
“It belongs to the marquis of Greystone, but he lives mainly at his townhouse in the city of Neris near the palace. His steward runs the estates and the town. Normally your aunt would stay at the castle, but this time I have made other arrangements in the town itself. It’s better that no one knows we are here.”
“What about you? Won’t someone recognize you without your mask?”
“No one really knows me here. I will keep my hood on. Don’t worry. You are safe with me.”
“I wasn’t worried about myself,” I said, embarrassed as soon as I said it.
Rafe’s lips curved upward. “I know,” he said and winked at me as he rode forward toward the town gates.
A guard was at his post, but he was asleep. Rafe did something with his hand, and the man woke up with a start. He looked down at us from his post on the gatehouse. “Who goes there?” His voice was sleepy. “Don’t you people know the gates don’t open until morning? Go away and come back tomorrow. We don’t open the gates to strangers and . . .”
Rafe held out some gleaming gold coins that shimmered in the moonlight.
The guard’s eyes widened, and he grinned at Rafe. “I shall open the gate right away, milord.” He scurried away to open a smaller gate and we led the horses through on foot.
The little town was asleep while we walked quickly through the deserted streets. A few lanterns were still burning, but most had lived out their lives. Two stray dogs ran by, and one tried to snap at the heels of my horse, but Rafe shooed them away. This was not like the clean, whitewashed town of Fairlone. Greystone was much smaller and very dreary.
“That is the town hall,” said Erien, pointing to a large, rickety two-storied house with a crumbling roof and battered walls. Tiny cobblestone paths crossed and intersected in a maze of streets. Badly constructed wooden houses with patched roofs were crammed together, the upper floors almost touching each other, creating a tunnel passage over the street below.
I took in my surroundings as we crossed the deserted town square. “This town looks so rundown.”
“That’s because many of the townspeople have left and moved south to Calos or Mirin or any of the other villages on the southern coast,” explained Rafe.
I was always interested to learn what I could about Avalonia. “Why?”
“This was once quite a prosperous town, but Greystone is too close to the
