Amaranta - Rival of Fairies' Queen

Hut of Gnome

The night with the elf was unmatched. Amaranta began to understand why girls prefer not people but representatives of the elf’s race. Love with an elf is magic.

But where do disappear the girls abducted by the elves? She didn't have time to ask about it from Dagda.

The fact that she spent all night in her own room, allocated to her before the wedding, and not in married, no one noticed. After all, Luellin was with the count and took care for him. For some reason, no one noticed that she shines like the sun. People take a gold copy for the usual woman from flesh and blood. But Amaranta saw only her reflection, painted in golden yellow color. Luellin grabbed her eyes and winked to her as a conspirator.

Amaranta hid fiercely behind the column. It is impossible to at least someone discovered that two Countess raise on the castle at once. All have long been aware that she has no twin sister who could come to visit. In addition, the presence of two identical dresses will also cause sense. The dressmakers in Aluar are presented with strict requirements so that the stamps of the dresses of noble ladies are not repeated. Surely, and in Iliore it is not different.

One of the corridors was empty. Amaranta went in it, hoping to find the exit to the garden. The castle resembled a labyrinth with a multitude of transitions. It is impossible to see her now even someone from the servants. Although it is no longer there, but gossip about the fact that the Countess can simultaneously be present immediately in two places can glorify it like a witch. And the witches are usually rushing to send to the fire.

It is a pity that Dagda did not take her for the whole day with him or did not leave her some means to become invisible. Where did he hurried so, spending the night with her? Why did he not stay longer?

Or maybe this Luellin took her appearance too early. So far, the cover of Amaranta was not required. Another thing is when Dagda again calls her on a date.

From the garden it was easy to get into the meadow behind the castle, and from there go to the forest. Well, and the ownership of elves begins in the forest. Amaranta decided to do this path herself, while the Golden Copy plays the hostess of the castle.

Infanta kept in the garden, combining multicolored berries with a bush. It seems that it is not a gooseberry, and not raspberries, and not currants, not even cherries. All berries were different shades and resembled a split of rainbow on tiny balls. This bush was not exactly here yesterday. More precisely, the bush itself was, but there was no unusual berries on it. Probably, a guest-elf flew here. In the thickets of Camellia and Magnolia, it was easy to get lost that Amaranth and hurried to do. The garden, which is replete with the honeysuckle and the box tree trimmed in the form of all sorts of figures is a great place to hide from prying eyes. Somewhere in the bunches the gate is hidden, through which a gardener comes. You need to find it to go on the meadow. Somewhere behind, the cheeky Infanta tried to tease swans who did not want to talk with her. Naturally, they did not understand anything. Not all birds are able to understand human speech.

For Mrs. Infanta today did not fly. So it was even more convenient. Amaranta wanted to be alone. When you want to see only your beloved elf, the company of people or even birds becomes burdensome.

Amaranta found a gate, so violently overgrown with flowers that it was almost not distinguished from the living hedge, but it was not difficult to open it. It  was not locked on the key, only on a door latch. The loops were creaked. In both the sounds that filled the garden, it was unnoticed. There were larks, shredded crickets, jumped grasshoppers, motley fish trembled to the pond, and some whispers sounded from the fountains. Or is this murmur of water creates the illusion of whispers?

The meadow was sunny, warm and empty. All the knights are now in the castle. Not far from the forest you can see only shepherds with goats and sheep. This is rural idyll! Amaranta felt at freedom. As well, she found a workaround to pass the lifting bridge and the castle gate. It is good that none of the enemies of Angus knows about the loophole through the garden. And does he have enemies? With elves, he liked him. If only Dagda wishes to become his enemy himself, but until he firmly decided to fight with anyone else. Something was placed in his past, which forced him to fear war, but not at all because he did not have enough strength to defeat. So what's the deal? What happened to him so terrible, which completely dismissed him, who possess the greatest strength, all the desire to lead wars?

“Look, do not get into trouble!” A bird drew angrily on her head. It flew into the forest. Against the background of a light meadow, its black plumage resembled a bunch of gloom.

When you warn something not to do, for some reason you want to do otherwise. Warning to be alert completely deprived of caution Amaranta. She moved to the forest. Some rustic swineherd, who played on his dull, spent her with stunned look. Probably accepted for the fairy. After all, noble ladies don’t leave the castle without accompaniment, even for a walk around the surroundings, not to go alone in the dense forest.

The forest was so thick that sunlight was barely penetrated. But the air is made here with pleasant smells of fern, needles, pine cones and wild flowers. Chicory and leaves of plantain grew near the paths - a great set of flowers and herbs for the preparation of medicinal tinctures. If there is a healer in the nearest village, then she exactly walks to collect herbs in this forest.

Amaranta moved along a narrow path in the thicket. One tree along the way turned out to be unusual. This is not a spruce, and not cypress, and not holly. Something average. The trunk is dotted with silver signs, precisely drawn by the claws of elves or some more magical creatures. Fruits on branches juicy and ripe, but instead of peel covered with sparkling scales.

“Dragon apples,” whispered someone behind her back. Amaranta turned around. Nobody She reached out to disrupt one such a fruit, but changed her mind. The fruit was hot, like coal in the oven. And the roots of the tree hung under her feet like snake tails.

Maybe, however, in the forest is dangerous, because no wonder the rural residents do not go here. All the people who Amaranta met, walked near the edge, but even in the shadow of the forest, they feared. If a sheep or goat ran here, it was not pursued for some reason to return to the herd, but simply unfolded and did the form that nothing special happened.

Local people know about the forest something that makes them stay away from it? But Angus concluded an agreement with the magic people. The act of non-fire cannot be valid only for aristocrats. It concerns all the inhabitants of the county. Adeline would say that from the countryside there are stupid superstitions that do not allow them to liberate, but Amaranta felt a hidden threat in the forest.

It is stupid to hope that if she gets into trouble, then Dagda immediately gets off to help her. You need to be careful. It is better to walk along the groves or heather empty, which in the county at least debugs. In vain she went to the forest. Amaranta suddenly realized that she could not find the road back. Either she forgot herself, in which direction went, or the path was branched. Now it was no longer one trail, but a whole tangle of narrow tracks with small inhuman footsteps. Footprints were not like any bird, nor the animal, nor the more human.

And where to go now? Some animal darted under her feet. Sharp claws hooked for the hem of her dress. The cloth of the fabric remained in the claws of the beast. Amaranta was looking for a branch to defend, but there was only a tree with scaly fruits. They are hot to the touch, but more to drive the beast nothing. Amaranta threw one fruit and wanted to throw it into a wild animal. But it also immediately jumped and hidden in the bushes. How did this fruit scared him? And is it worth calling it a fruit or somehow else? Yes, scales over the peel are very sharp. You can prick your fingers. And they are hot, like a metal in the horn of a blacksmith. The hand is slightly burned, but Amaranta is not frightened. You need to have in your hands at least something in the case of a new attack by the wild inhabitants of the forest.

She had to choose one of the paths at random. The first led to fallen trees, from which it was  possible only to turn back. Another path started in the ravine. The third ended deadlock. There is some kind of elastic wall, similar to the dilapidated wall of an ancient temple, hid in the thick of bushes. Amaranta ran her hand on the symbols and emblems engraved on the stone blocks of the wall. It was depicted by half-rated silhouettes of some gods. The forest kept in itself a lot of secrets.

"The tribes of the goddess Danu," somebody whispered again behind her. “They fell like this, long before the forest grew here.”

It was meaningless to turn around. Behind the back is not visible. In the forest so easy to hide, that it is not surprising. Amaranta pouch the fruit. If that this is her only means of self-defense. You can rinse it like a ball in the attacker. Sharp scales are embarrassing for sure. But no one hurried to attack.

She had to return to the fork again and choose the next path. Each time they became more and more. Another trail led it to a forest creek, murdering by stones. Some unfamiliar grass of blue grew near the stream. The flowers have framed the edge of the stream. Amaranta did not like these flowers with incorrectly intersecting petals. They resembled the live ridges of a purple shade.

Behind the stream, no longer, there was a hut. Gloomy and abandoned it resembled a rotten tooth in the forest. There was a circle of voids around it. The big trees stood slightly away. It could be adopted for the hut of a huntsman.

“Release us!” came the voices.

Is it a dream? Amaranta looked around. Where do the sounds come from? Is it really from the hut, which is about to collapse from old age. Wooden logs, of which it is folded, have already rotted and covered with mold. But inside it turned out pure and cozy. Well and miracles! The walls are painted in pastel colors and are seized with iron vignettes. Hooks are suspended cages with a variety of birds. Like in the castle at Angus. Only here were all birds of unfamiliar species. Amaranta did not know the names of them. There are no peacocks nor Ibis, nor falcons. But each bird has a motley of rainbow feathers, and the precious stones sparkle them right in the foreheads or adorn lush tails. Well, straight copies of Infanta. In one cage, a firebird was sitting, it was much more luxurious and large than the fire bird in the castle. From its tail sparks were poured, not able to burn the earthen floor.

“Liberate us!” the whisper became persistent.

This was not exactly the birds. Amaranta understood the birds’ language, but the beaks of all birds were tightly closed. None of them tried to say something. But in all birds had such a sad look that they were reminded of prisoners. She was sorry for them.

There was no! Amaranta began to open the door latches. The birds have dropped out of cages, joyfully moved by the motley wings. Together, they resembled a rainbow breathing from imprisonment.

Naturally, none of them lingered to say the Amaranta "Thank you" or at least to not as a sign of appreciation. They were silent and proud. Only the firebird was delayed and dropped her from head to the feet in such a glance that Amaranta felt herself a beggar, which was randomly in higher society, and not the liberator. In vain, she burned her fingers, letting the firebird, whose feathers trembled with hot sparks. Although she did not wait for gratitude. She simply did not want such beautiful birds sadly sit in cages.

“What did you do!” Someone so stamped about the floor with the foot that the whole hut was shaken. It seemed that an earthquake began.

Turned around this time, Amaranta saw an angry gnome. For growth, he could be taken for a child, but a wrinkled embittered face squeezed him. He is exactly a centenary old man, not a child.

Amaranta hid the scaly fruit in the folds of the dress. If you have to throw it into the face of the Gnome. He stamped obsessevly with his feet, and the earth trembled.

“You let go all the captives!” ragged the gnome.

Captives? He so calls the birds. Amaranta looked in a glimpse into the opened door and noticed that the feathered birds did not fly away. They sat down at the stream, and suddenly female figures in multi-colored outfits rose instead of them. The girls differ in different directions, and their clothing in color resembled the plumage of the released birds.

“Do not be under the protection of Dagda, I would have strangled you!” The gnome exactly did not joke.

Amaranta really felt how the hot cord was squeezed on the neck. How strange! The gnome does not get to her knee, and she feels his little hands on her throat, and they are very strong.

“Stop!” Amaranta felt that she was choking and swung on the gnome the only thing that was in her hand. At the sight of a scaly fruit, the gnome immediately jumped aside and hid for one of the empty cages.

“Throw him here!” He pointed to the opened door. “I'll have time to lock it here!”

Naturally, she did not obey, but turned around and ran away. The open door almost climbed it, trying to slam down before the nose. Amaranta hardly slipped into a narrow gap.

The shadow of the gnome hands, which pulled out for her, reminded the paws of the monsters. Amaranta turned around. His arms became large, they do not for hisa small body. It was not worth saying goodbye to him. The dwarf shouted to her.

Upstartt! Thief! Elf’s w***e!” shouted he. The latter hurt her. In part, he was right. She is not married to an elf, but to a man. And Dagda does not at all offer her a lawful marriage. She, of course, loves him, and not just seduces for power or gifts, but their connection can still be called vicious. It was necessary to turn out to be so evil in the tongue!

It turned out to be upset nowhere. Amaranta stumbled on the road. Someone for her exactly chased, but not a physical being, but some force, revived the roots of trees and plants. The brushwood crawled under her feet of live worms, bunches of trees joined hair. Speaking from the Earth roots resembled snake tails. Only a dragon tree stood calmly and did not make any attempts to grasp her for the hem of dresses.

Amaranta cautiously passed by him. His roots turned out to be slimy and wet as the skin of the snake.

“Turn back my captives!” shouted the gnome. Maybe this is echoes of thunder. But it does not rain. The sky above the forest was cloudless. The lumen distance was the edge of the forest. She was flying away from the gnome and she managed to choose the right path.

The formidable echo stood in her ears, but it was of no importance now. After all, the exit from the forest is already close. There are just a dozen steps, and it will come on the light-floated meadow. And it does not matter that this meadow is plowing Finodirry, trying to make arable fields from it. Let yourself! By him you can run. Finodirries accurately comply with the conditions of the union between people and elves, but there is no evil dwarf.

Suddenly, the roots of the tree came to life and clung to her legs like a network. Finodirry turned on her screams, instantly threw a plow, took off over the roots and picked up Amaranta for the waist. The tree released her reluctantly, but Firnodirry pounded something on the roots, and they, displeased spinning, climbed back under the ground. The tree froze motionless again. Who would think that a minute ago it tried to strangle her.

Amaranth still looked at the roots, who were able to strangle the victim. Now she understood the fears of farmers. She will never go in the forest again!

Finodirry carried her over the meadow and lowered her on the stump so delicately, as if it was the royal throne. He himself leaned toward her legs and began to sniffed to her as food. Is it really bleeding and decided that the smell appetizing!

Not! As it turned out, he just did not bother to touch her and inspect to check whether there is no wounds. By smell, he easily found a scratch and even helped her cure. An inconspicuous gray grass, which grew by stump, instantly heal wounds, if you attach it to them. If not Finodirry, Amaranta would never distinguish this grass from ordinary tree rot.

She looked at her savior with horror. What a monster! But in his strong paws, she felt a queen for a moment, which all Dagda subjects are obliged to serve. Or maybe the arms of an elf corrupted her, and now she entails all the magical creatures? No wonder the Gnome called her for the harlot! But the Finodirry did not entail it in a physical sense, it was only curious to look at him and even touch. His wings on the touch turned out to be slimy, like a bat.

As long as Amaranta rested after the experienced, Finodirry flew to the spring and brought her fresh water. A blank sink of a large snail he used instead of a glass.

Amaranta was almost told thank you, completely forgotten that it could not be thanked in any way. She was frightened and bit her lip to blood.

As close it was from being offended and angry. The fatal words of gratitude were still ready to fly from her mouth. After all, the winged monster served her as a faithful dog.

Finodirry  noticed that her shoe is stuck in the roots of the tree. It was now difficult to dig it out of the ground, in which recently revived roots, but Finodirry and did it.

Why don't these monsters like and be afraid if they are helpful? And why are they such zealous assistants? Amaranta heard the edge of the ear, the legend of the curse, which forces them to behave exactly that, and not otherwise.

What if the Finodirry is not free to act, as he wishes? He in fact may not begood? Just a certain strength makes him be a slave of all oncoming. Maybe he likes her? He looked at her with a light delight. He got out of somewhere the handful of wild plums and handed it to her, but she didn't take it.

“Eat yourself!” She advised him.

Finodirry immediately threw them over his shoulder. And thump them managed in one fell swoop on the other side of the meadow, where they fell on a plow, like a hail.

Amaranta noticed that in addition to the plow in the meadow, there were a spit and a sickle. Why are they there? Usually uses everything in their season. First they plow, then they sow, and only then mow. An unusual worker did everything at once. He does not know how it is necessary or does it noticeable to achieve an unnatural result? He, in the end, is a magical creature. They are all otherwise than people.

The fruit with a dragon tree hurt her fingers, so hard she squeezed him all this time. Finodirry immediately stopped the blood, and then noticed the scaly ball in her hand.

"Dragon apples," he said. “Dangerous things!”

He can speak! Amaranta hesitated. She thought these monsters are dumb, because in her presence they were constantly silent. Disassemble what he says was difficult, but he could utter human words! This is a miracle!

“You're beautiful! Do not eat, otherwise you will blow up like fira ...”

“Like who?”

But Finodirirry, instead of an answer, extracted from somewhere, as if straight from the emptiness, a homemade reed.

“Do you like sleeping melodies?”

“Sleeping?”

"Helping to sleep melanchly and pain," he explained and began to play. From the gentle sounds, the nerves immediately calmed down. Amaranth felt happy. Even love longing for Dagda was forgotten.

“Thank you!” She thanked hot, barely he finished playing. “You're a rare musician! Thank you!”

He jumped up and shouted like a wounded animal. Claws on his paws began to stretch in length. Such a paw can to demolish the head in one fell. How she could forget that these monsters are unbearable to hear the words of gratitude! For a moment it seemed to her that now Finodirry would hit her, but he just skipped with a black column of ash and disappeared.