Spring, my fifteenth year...

I stared at the candlestick, concentrating. It remained unlit. I slouched, elbows on the tabletop, chin in my hand. For the countless time I spoke the guide words and willed the candle into flame. It was still unlit. I closed my eyes and let my chin slide until my forehead thumped against the hard marble of the tabletop .Through the window I could hear Zephne laugh down in the courtyard. She was probably flirting with the new guardsman—the same one I'd told her I was interested in—and I was stuck up here trying to accomplish the impossible. Life was so unfair.

"Well, have you done it yet?" a voice asked.

"No," I answered sulkily.

A sigh from behind me. "Really, Morgaine, it's not that hard," the voice replied, exasperated.

I sat up and turned around. Aunt Llewella stood in the doorway, frowning at me, her hair loose and flowing behind her in the gentle current present in the hallway. The corner of her mouth twitched in repressed amusement.

"Why do I have to learn this anyway?" I complained. "Who's going to care one way or another if I can light a candle this way? Is somebody going to approach me sometime in my life and say, 'Morgaine, if you can light this candle using magic then millions of people will stop dying...wars everywhere will cease...'"

"That's enough."

"Children will no longer have to eat their vegetables..."

Llewella smiled just a tiny bit. "I said that was enough." She walked into the room and shut the door behind her. I slouched in my chair, watching her, a petulant look on my face.

"Sit up straight, Morgaine," Llewella chided. "How many times have I reminded you of that?"

"I've lost count," I replied, sitting up nonetheless. I sighed and stretched.

"Have you heard the news?" Llewella asked as she sat down across from me.

"News? About what?" I replied. "Mother's pregnant?"

Llewella glared at me, not replying. I looked down at my hands so that Llewella wouldn't see me smile.

"The revolt down in Coral has been contained and an agreement reached. All without bloodshed," she said. "Your mother herself conducted the negotiations...I think that made a big impression on them, thereby making them easier to deal with."

I glanced up at her. It was obvious from her expression that I was suppose to react to this somehow.

"Oh. Well, great! That's really good..." I replied. I paused, then nodded my head vigorously.

Llewella looked at me, expressionless. "You didn't even know this was going on, did you?"

I heard Zephne squeal down below, then laugh again...fainter this time. She must be walking away.

"Did you?" Llewella demanded.

"Well, not exactly." I shrugged. "Maybe I heard a rumor..."

"Morgaine! Someday you're going to rule this land! You need to know and understand it! And you need to acquire the power and tools so you can control it!" She gestured toward the candle.

I frowned, slouching again in my chair, looking away. "Nobody asked me if that's what I wanted to do," I mumbled.

Llewella was silent, regarding me. A full minute passed. I gazed out the window, sorry I'd said that, but unwilling to take it back. Instead of yelling, Llewella stood up and extended her hand to me. "Come, Morgaine," she said quietly. "I have something I want to show you."

I looked up into her eyes, curious, but couldn't fathom the look in them. I touched her outstretched hand...

...and we were standing beside a coral reef, bright red anemones waving at us. Untouched fields spread out in front of me, dotted by islands of rock and coral and the occassional clump of spear-grass. The white sand under my bare feet stretched behind me for a hundred yards or so, littered with shells and debris, ending abruptly in the blackness of a sudden drop-off, its pale edge brightly defined against the dark waters.

I turned to Llewella. "We're at the Shelf, aren't we?" I asked, indicating the darkness. "Out in the back country, by the look of things."

Llewella smiled briefly. "Very perceptive. Have you been here before?"

"Well...no," I explained. "This is where the...um...socio-economically challenged people live..."

"You mean peasants?"

I felt my face turn red.

"Good," she said, noting the change in color. "There's some hope for you yet. Follow me."

Llewella took off in the direction of the fields, a look of intense concentration on her face. She paused, then headed for an outcropping off to the left. I followed, bemused. She reached behind a rock and pulled out a faded duster in a garish pattern that had been out of fashion for a decade or two. She handed it to me. "Put this on."

I took the dress and held it between my thumb and forefinger. It was ripped and patched several times over, not fit to be used as a rag in the Castle. "It smells," I complained.

Llewella had her back to me as she fished out more clothing. "You can't run around here in what you have on, Morgaine. The common people wear more clothes than the royals. You know that."

"Where are we going, Aunt Llewella? And why?" I asked, not moving.

Llewella was already shrugging into a ragged cloak of her own. She took off her shoes. "I'm going to assist in the birthing of a baby boy whose name will be Tobias—and you're going to help me. Now put on that dress."

I stared at her. "I'm going to help?" I squeaked. "I don't know nothing about—"

Llewella cupped my upturned chin in her hand. "You will be helping—not doing it yourself." She looked into my eyes. "Now put the dress on, follow me, and no more questions."

Strangely, all of my resolve suddenly disappeared. I quietly pulled the duster over my head. There had been something else I wanted to ask her, but, by Lir, I couldn't remember what it was...

She muttered a few words, gesturing, and I felt a glamor spell settle over us. "To help with the illusion," Llewella explained. "You hardly look the part of the back-country girl with your pale skin and manicured fingernails."

Llewella turned and walked away, not waiting to see if I was following. I hiked along behind her. We walked through schools of brightly colored boxfish and silvery dartfish as they swam among the coral...past the gutted remains of a wooden ship...eventually coming to a cultivated field among the rocks and sand. I leaned down and touched the delicate pale leaves of the farmer's crop plant to my nose and sniffed. "Akerim," I said.

Llewella nodded.

Akerim was a strong, heady spice most commonly used in teas and coffee, although it had some medicinal uses as well. Used in small quantities, akerim was a decent stimulant. Used in larger quantities, akerim could knock a person out. It was one of Rebma's exports and yet I'd never seen an actual crop of it before.

Llewella continued on, heading for the hut at the far end of the field. It was made from wood and I suddenly realized where the timbers from the gutted ship had gone. Several children of varying ages played outside in the yard. From inside the hut I heard a cry of pain, followed by a low moaning.

A chill ran down my spine at the sound and I felt my heart start to pound. I really did not want to do this. I stopped, hesitant.

Llewella turned back toward me. "Morgaine. It's all right." She reached for my hand and took it in her own. "Come."

I followed, trusting, like a small child.

Inside we found two Rebman women attending a third who was in the midst of labor. I stared. The pregnant girl didn't look much older than me. The women stood on either side of her, supporting her, as she tread the room and worked through her pain. A pallet of straw was thrown into the corner opposite the door. Nothing else was in this room. A doorway, covered by an old blanket, led into the back rooms of the hut. The girl clutched her bulging belly and cried out again.

The other two women, one old and one young, turned as we entered. "Looky, Della," the crone said to the girl in labor, "The melanthra, the wise-woman, is here. All will be well." She gave Llewella a toothless smile.

"It won't be much longer now," the younger woman added, looking eagerly from Llewella to me and back. In spite of her optimistic words she looked afraid.

Llewella motioned to the older woman.

"Aster, look after Della," the crone commanded. She followed Llewella outside into the yard. I came after them, not wanting to be left alone inside. The children stopped playing when they saw us.

"Tess," Llewella asked, "How far along is she?"

Tess sighed. "Not far enough, melanthra. Her water's broken and you can see the baby's head but Della's not opening up. She's still only at two fingers, and has been for the better part of the day." Tess wrung her hands. "The poor girl's exhausted...I'm afraid for her...I don't know if we should take the child..."

Llewella smiled reasurringly. "It won't come to that. I will help her."

"Oh, thank you, melanthra. May the Unicorn bless you," Tess smiled back.

Llewella nodded curtly and walked back into the hut with Tess. I scrambled to follow, catching glimpses of the children's sullen faces as they stared at us silently.

"Aster, lead Della over to the straw," Llewella ordered as she rolled up the sleeves on her cloak.

"Yes, melanthra," Aster replied, doing as she was bid.

"Morgaine, help her."

I glanced at Llewella, startled.

"Go on," she continued.

I ran over and helped ease Della down onto the pallet. She smelled of fear and sweat and blood. She cried out again and grabbed onto my arm painfully. I looked back at Llewella, alarmed.

Llewella returned my glance but her face held no expression. She knelt beside Della and performed a cursory exam.

"Melanthra..." Della gasped. "Help me...please...the pain..." She cried out again, her breath coming in great gasps. Her eyes closed and her deformed body arched upward.

"Morgaine," Llewella said, "ease her pain."

"W-what?" I stammered. "How?"

"Don't you know the spell?" Llewella snapped. "You should have learned it months ago."

I stared back at her, stunned. "I-I'm sorry. I don't—"

Llewella spoke the words, reaching out to hold Della's hand. I felt the discharge of magic in the room. Tess nodded and I could tell she felt it as well. The change in Della was immediate. She sighed in tired relief, then smiled. "Thank you..." Her eyelids fluttered and closed. She laid back, exhausted, breathing deeply.

"Don't go to sleep yet, Della," Llewella ordered. "I'll need you to push in a few minutes. Aster, talk to her. Keep her awake. Morgaine, come here and assist me."

I glanced at my aunt to determine her mood but she was busy examining Della. Sighing, I stood up, stepped across Della, and kneeled beside Llewella on the floor. Llewella finished and turned to me. I expected to see anger on her face but it held something else... satisfaction, maybe? I blinked, feeling contrite. Llewella held her hand out to me and I took it in my own.

"I want you to see how this spell is contructed, Morgaine," she said. I nodded, opening my mind to her. The rapport came quickly after so many years of practice. She turned the magical Sight around so I could view through it along with her. On this level Della's heart showed bright and warm, her pysche a burning presence. I perceived the flow of blood through her body, rising and ebbing, centering around the smaller presence that was her child. "Here's the problem," Llewella communicated through the rapport. "The cervix isn't dilating. There is a hormone that controls the birthing process, including dilation." I felt the presence of the hormone, once Llewella had singled it out. "I'm going to cause more of that hormone to be realeased and its effects to be amplified. When I do, her contractions will become much greater. While I'm doing this I want you to monitor the blood flow to the child and make sure it's not restricted. I don't want him to become distressed during the contractions. Do you understand?"

"How do you know it's a boy, Llewella?"

"Later, Morgaine. Do you understand?"

"Well...I mean, I've never done any healing magics before..." I said, unsure.

"It's just like controlling water flows, Morgaine," she replied. "You're good at that."

I nodded. Water and air I had no problems controlling. Earth magic, well, I was middling good at it...but earth was an alearan talent, along with fire. And I had very little if no success with fire.

"Blood is mostly water. You can work the problem from that point of view," Llewella suggested. Of course...I hadn't thought of it like that. "You can stay in rapport with me and control it from here," Llewella continued. "Since I already have the Sight up you might as well take advantage of it."

I agreed. I reordered my thoughts, shutting out my surroundings, concentrating on setting up the magical conditions so that I could control the flows mentally, focusing on the blood flowing through the placenta...rise and ebb...flow and recede...arteries to capillaries to veins...

Thirty minutes later Della pushed mightily and we had a baby boy born into our midst. Llewella broke the rapport and caught the child as it came into the world, blood-slicked and blue, and laid the baby on Della's stomach. Tess deftly tied off the umbilical cord and cut it. Aster wrapped the boy in a blanket and took it into the back of the hut, behind the blanketed doorway. I sighed and stood up, stretching my legs.

Llewella looked up at me, studying my face. I looked back at her and smiled. Leaning over, I whispered in her ear, "That was a nice thing to do, Auntie, helping Della out like that."

The corner of Llewella's mouth twitched a few times, the rest of her face impassive. She gazed back at me. I suddenly felt as if I was missing something here. I blinked a few times, looking at her askance.

I asked, "Just how did—“

"So what are you going to name him, Della?" Aster interrupted as she returned from the back room. She put the swaddled, squalling child in Della's tired arms and grinned. "How about Jack?"

"I like Jack," Della replied.

Tobias. Llewella said the boy's name would be Tobias. I glanced at Llewella and smiled, happy to have one up on her. Llewella only looked back, the corner of her mouth twitching with repressed humor again.

"We can't thank you enough," Tess crooned at Llewella. "I don't know how much longer she could've gone...Well, Aster and me can handle things here, now, if you have something else you need to be doing, melanthra."

Llewella nodded. "I'll come back in a few weeks to check on the child and discuss my fee."

Tess nodded, frowning a bit but attempting to hide it. Aster and Della were cooing over the new baby and weren't paying attention to the conversation. Llewella stood and walked over to the child. She pulled back the bunting so she could touch his face. She smiled to herself and a shiver ran down my spine.

Llewella turned to me. "Come, Morgaine. It's time to leave."

I followed her out the front door.

As we left I heard Tess say to Della, "So, my dear, did you decide on Jack?"

"Well, no," Della replied sleepily. "I think I'll call him Tobias, after my father."

Spring, my fifteenth year, a few days after the birth of Tobias...

I sat on a pillow in the courtyard behind the East wing of Rebma Castle, listening to the waterchimes' delicate tinkling in the distance and watching the sun throw ripples of light along the benches and ground. For a change I'd let my black-green hair down out of its customary braid and it flowed and waved around my face in the gentle current. I sat there in my scaled trunks and my bare feet, thinking about Della and her baby, thinking about my own mother and the castle I lived in and the all the advantages I had.

"Hello, Auntie," I said, not looking up. I felt her presence behind me.

"Hello, Morgaine." Llewella paused. "You have something you want to ask me...?"

I didn't bother to ask her how she knew that. She just knew.

"Why did you take me there?"

Llewella walked around and sat on a bench in front of me. "You tell me."

I sighed. "Why can't you ever just give me a straight answer?"

She regarded me for a moment. "Because nothing in your life is handed to you, Morgaine. You need to learn how to think and fight for yourself."

Nothing is handed to me? I thought. But I've had everything handed to me. I am the daughter of the Queen... "You took me there to show me that magic does have its practical uses by ordering me to throw an analgesic spell—a spell that you knew I didn't have down very well—at someone who desperately needed it. Am I right?"

Llewella smiled. "Mostly. There were other reasons as well."

"How did you know it was going to be a boy, Auntie? And how did you know she'd name him Tobias?"

She looked at me levelly. "I saw it in the Pool...a boy-child to be born, whose name would be Tobias, who would be strong in alearan. And we need men who are strong in alearan. Tobias will come and study with me when he's older. That will be Della's fee for my services as a melanthra."

Alearan and aleara. Elemental magics. Male and female. Earth/fire and water/air.
I thought about this...

I looked at Llewella askance. "Would you have helped Della if her son hadn't been destined to be strong in alearan?" I asked.

Llewella paused, then shook her head. "No."

"Even if it would've meant she'd die?"

"Yes. Even if," she replied calmly.

I blinked. "Why? What's the difference?"

"I can't get involved in everything that goes on in Rebma, Morgaine. It's not possible. I need to pick and choose what to get involved in...and I need to pick and choose those things that will most benefit the kingdom as a whole. Your mother does no less."

"Don't you ever feel guilty?" I asked quietly. "Do you like playing with people's lives?"

Llewella sighed. "I know you see me as cruel and unfeeling, but I'm only doing what's best for the kingdom. Someday you'll understand, Morgaine. Someday this will be you, doing this in your mother's stead..."

I flinched and looked away. In my mind I heard Della scream...I heard her call for the melanthra, but no one was there...I saw her die in the midst of giving life. I didn't want to take on that responsibility. Even the idea of it was making me physically ill.

"...someday this will be you."

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