The Forbidden Power

Chapter Three

Darkness is coming.  Rejoice in it, for the night will always end in a new day.
-Sky Proverb

Summer looked up the side of the tower. Up the creaky stairs she hiked, up into the tallest tower of the Fire Palace.  There, in bed, lay her mother.
"Mama?" Summer whispered, so not to wake her mother if she slept, as she entered.  The old queen was awake though, and sat up with a cough at the sound of Summer's voice.
"My sweet girl," her mother spoke softly, but urgently. "It is almost my time to go.  There are some things I must tell you first."
"But Mama—" Summer was cut off as she kneeled down next to her mother's deathbed.
"Summer, darling, there is no more time for buts, or what ifs.  You must listen to what I have to say.  First, you must continue feeding the prisoners, our people, the Fire Rebels, and any other captives from the other elements."
Summer nodded.  "Mama, I fed them today.  That is where I just came from."
"Good," Marie, the Queen of Air, praised her daughter.  "Second, you must go to the leaders of the Clouds, Wind, and Sky to learn to use your new powers."
"But I—"
"I know it will be hard, my daughter, but it will be different now.  New power will be passed onto you at the moment of my death.  Without training, it may overwhelm you.  You must learn how to use it.  I sense a battle coming soon."
"I understand, Mama."  Summer reassured her dying mother.
"And lastly," Marie continued, "You must not marry Antwan.  At the moment of your marriage, he will take your powers from you.  He must not have the Power of Air.  Promise me these things, Summer.  Promise me."
"I promise,"  whispered Summer, her eyes full of tears.
"Good," whispered Marie.  She paused, and grasped Summer's hand.  "I love you very much, you know that, right?" Summer nodded.  "Now I can go in peace."  Marie relaxed her head down on her pillow and closed her eyes.  Summer stood from her kneeling position and sat at the foot of the bed, stroking the soft blanket in between her fingers.  Her mother's breathing slowed, then stopped altogether.  Only then did Summer allow herself to cry.
Both mother and daughter, queen and princess, failed to notice the dark figure of Antwan at the door, red fire sprouting from his fingertips, flickering straight towards Marie.
Once Summer's eyes were dry, she quietly stood, so not to disturb her mother.  She turned, and there stood Antwan.
"My lady," his icy tone forced Summer to freeze in her tracks.  She looked up, and his eyes blazed like forest fires.  "I am sorry for your loss." He dipped his head in parting to the queen.
Summer stared boldly into those flaming, snakelike eyes, and replied evenly, "You are not sorry for me, Antwan.  You never were, and you never will be."  She brushed past him through the door, down the stairs, and outside, into the night.
• • • •
Antwan stared in delight at the dead body of Marie.  The squeak of an opening door sounded, and Antwan turned.  Through the door strode Antwan's partner, the commander of his armies.  He paused to stare at the queen's body.
"Well?" Snapped Antwan.  "What's wrong?  Feeling sedimental?"
His commander swallowed, then replied evenly.  "Her death means nothing to me."
Antwan nodded.  "Good.  Now, the reports, if you please."
• • • •
Dawn was breaking.  The night before, Summer had ran into the woods.  She had climbed the tallest tree in the Charred Forest, the one that Antwan had burned when he was only a child, and sat there, crying.  That night, she had cried herself to sleep.  Summer squinted into the harsh dawn light, and began lowering herself to the ground.  It was feeding time.
Summer tapped lightly on the kitchen's back door.  The assistant chef, Emma, smiled at Summer as she opened the door. 
"Here m'lady," Emma whispered, handing two large woven baskets to Summer.  Summer lifted the red and black checkered cloth on one and gasped.
"But Emma, how did you get so many?"
Emma's smile grew even broader.  "I have my ways."
Summer thanked her and went on her way.  She weaved through the palace halls, careful not to be seen by any guards.  Finally, she reached the hall of the dungeon.
Summer stopped, and peered out from behind the wall.  The guard sat in his chair, asleep.  Careful not to wake him, Summer crept by him.
The dungeon was packed full with prisoners.  They turned to Summer and the smell of food. 
"I'm here," Summer whispered.  She made her way through the crowds, feeding them.  The clinking of the shackles that chained them to the floor made Summer grimace.  She gave each prisoner a piece of fruit, or a roll, or a slice of cheese.  Each of them thanked her, and some children hugged her, but all bit into their food quickly, not having eaten since the day before.  Summer smiled, and continued walking around. One by one, they gratefully accepted the food.  The shackles kept them chained within a two foot radius, not being able to move very much or even stretch their legs.  Summer wished she could free them, but she knew Antwan would catch them before they escaped.  The new arrivals were from Rock, the last of Earth to be captured.  One woman, the last to get her food, was the leader of Rock.
"Thank you kindly,"  she whispered as she refused to take the slice of bread, "but it is soon my parting time.  Give it to someone who needs it more."  She wheezed, and sat on the stone bench that lined the cell.  "Please, Princess, accept this secret.  Someone must know."  Summer nodded and sat next to her.  "The true heir to the throne of Earth is alive.  she was sheltered from Andras originally, and now Antwan.  Summer gasped.
"Yes," the woman continued.  "She was hidden with us.  I gave her to a couple who's second child died at birth, but they only know that she's not their own, not where she came from.  Nobody knows, except for me, and now, you."
"Who is she?"  Summer asked, Looking around, intent on learning anything that she could.
The woman coughed.  "She is not here.  She escaped.  And her name is—" the woman gasped a final breath, and her eyes fluttered closed.  Heads turned, and voices faded to a whisper.  Mothers urgently hushed their children, no matter which element.  All paused in a stance of respect. Summer laid her gently on the bench.  A voice broke the hushed silence.
"Sheila!"  A brown-haired man that Summer judged to be a couple years younger then the woman pushed to the front of the crowd.  "Oh, Sheila! Why?"  Summer, though a good six inches shorter then the man, put her arm around him in a comforting gesture. "She was my sister," the man explained.  "The oldest of the three of us.  I already lost my twin, but to lose her too..."  His voice trailed of as he was pulled into silent grief. Summer removed her arm and stood, turning her gaze to the other captives in the room. The room was silent, except for the muffled sobs of the man.
"May we please have a moment of silence for Sheila of Rock."  The cell remained silent, and the man's cries slowed to a stop.  "Thank you."
The man stepped forward. He wiped his red and puffy eyes, and looked to Summer.  "May I speak?"  Summer nodded.  The man faced the crowd of prisoners.  "Sheila was a good woman," he began.  "She was kind and compassionate to all.  She was a great leader and a loving sister to I, John of Rock.  I doubt any of us will ever forget her."  The crowd nodded in agreement.  "Great Stone Gods," he continued.  "Please, accept her to your ranks."
The rest of the crowd murmured in sadness.  Summer picked the dead body of the old woman up, shocked at how light she was.  She must have not eaten for days.  Later that day, Summer chose a shaded spot in the Charred Forest, where there were new flowers budding.  Though she had never known Sheila, she figured that she would like that.  After burying Sheila, she took a round, flat stone and on it she carved:
Here lies Sheila of Rock
A kind leader
A loving sister