Papa lost his job at the mill after breaking his ribs in an accident. With no income and hunting season being over, we were starving. My sister Tilly and I struggled to walk around without our dresses slipping off our shoulders. Our only food was jam preserves, which Mama prepared for us before she died. We rationed them over several months. 

No one in town was hiring for help as Tilly and I knocked on every door, offering our assistance for everything and anything. The crops the year before were ruined by the wind storms, and land tillers were broken. Strong gusts left the entire town with empty coin purses. Until Papa's ribs were fully healed, there was nothing we could do. 

It was winter now, and the wind was picking up. Dry snowflakes whipped and circled on the ground, freezing the only vegetables in the wooden planter boxes outside the windows. Papa gave TIlly and me his last week's rations.

“You girls must eat. I still cannot provide, and you must stay as strong as possible if you can do something for us. Nora, Tilly, I am so sorry I have failed you. The stone was supposed to come down five minutes earlier. I would not have stood in my station if someone had warned me.”

“It is not your fault.” I looked into my father's eyes and empathized with a man who prided himself on caring for his family.

“Papa, Nora, and I will figure something out. Don’t you worry, you need your rest. We will find food.”

Tilly brought a cup of water and set it at his bedside, kissing his forehead and motioning me to come outside. We pulled on our black cloaks and gathered firewood in the woodland near our home. Flakes blanketed the once-green ground with white.

“Sister, we must find nourishment quickly. We are losing too much weight. Papa will never regain his strength at this rate. I am feeling much stronger since we ate the preserves. We need to do something now while we still have the strength.”

“Yes, I agree. But what?”

“I am nosy, as you know. While we were in town last and asking Mrs Collins about a sewing job, you were speaking, but I was listening to everything around us. I heard a conversation between two women near us; they talked about the abandoned stone castle north of here. I’ve heard of it before; it’s called Crestiville. I know that the Duke who lived there left on a quest for love or an ancient artifact. I can’t remember. He dismissed all his servants and left just one dogkeeper at the property. He takes care of the watchdogs that guard the property.”

“This doesn’t sound good, Nora; where are you going with this?”

“The dogkeeper must sleep at some point. We could travel North and survey the castle to find his routine. Then, use the witchbane from Mama to put the dogs to sleep. Inside, I'm sure there must be something of value. We can take some. I’m sure the Duke has many riches, especially since he collects rare items. We can sell it at the merchant's market on the winter solstice, and then we would have enough money for food until Papa’s ribs healed for good.”

“This sounds like the most dangerous and idiotic idea you’ve ever had.”

“Yes, I agree it is not my first choice. But we have tried everything else to earn money. We will die. Papa will never get better. We can’t lose him, too; I couldn't bear it.”

“As much as you know, I hate to admit it, dear sister, you are right. We will have the neighbor check on Papa while we take the half-day ride out.”

I smiled graciously and bowed my head, getting snow thrown at my hair in return and a trail of laughter that led back into the cabin. 

The following morning, we quietly gathered materials for our journey. I filled a saddle bag with things we may need and strapped my belt around my hips with my two hunting knives. Sister gathered her bows and arrows, and we dressed warmly. By the firelight, Tilly wrote Papa a note of when we would be back and placed it by his bedside with a jar of goldenberry preserves as a paperweight on top.

I prepared my horse Thimble and brushed his blonde and golden mane before departing. Tilly road her brown freckled stallion River, and we charged North to the castle. The weather was still dry and shivering; the wind was light, and the breeze ran through our long curls, making them dance upon our shoulders. 

After half a day's ride, the leafless giants began to clear, and the dirt path transitioned to cobblestone. Thimble and River's hooves clicked and clonked along the pavement. I surveyed my surroundings and found a wooded area in front of the castle where we set up base and watch without being spotted. I guided us there and off the stone path, where the sound of our arrival would not be detected.

After hitching up the horses, I pulled out the cloak potion and misted it over ourselves. Mama told me this would hide our smell from any creatures or humans for a day. It was just what we needed: thank the gods for Mama's potions. Tilly and I approached a large log in the snow and kneeled behind it. 

“There!” I whisper.

The dogkeeper stood in his wooden tower, scanning the horizon. Two large black dogs stood below it, sitting stiffly. They were tall, sitting on their haunches; their ears stood straight up as the pointed ends rotated to detect any sound. They possessed serious, focused yellow eyes, and their pupils were sharp and small, with green veins of color surrounding the iris.  We sat patiently for hours until the dusk had arrived. The crescent moons began to cast their white glow and laid across the white fluff as the dogkeeper climbed down from the rickety tower.”

“Here he goes, Nora.”

The dogkeeper calls in the dogs, and we count twelve that follow behind him through the front gate. They all line up neatly behind him, their red leather collars reflecting the moonlight.

An hour passes as TIlly and I share our jar of preserves, eating its contents with a metal spoon we snatched from the kitchen. I bury the jar beneath the snow so the hounds can’t catch a whiff. I sprinkle the ground with the potion as an extra measure. 

All the hounds reemerge with the dogkeeper. He closes the gate behind them as ten enter a small building near the tower. The stone structure is waist high and has gated doors in stalls with hay and light and an outer door surrounding them.

“That must be the kennel.” Tilly looked at me.

Two dogs stood by the tower, one on each side, eyes forward and alert.

“Two must stay awake to guard the others while we sleep. Let’s wait a few moments before going in. Are you ready, sister?”

“As I ever will be Nora.”

It was getting darker, and we had no light aside from the torches on the cobblestone path, which the creatures eyed patiently. We must sneak through the slippery snow from the side. At least it's dark enough that they may not see our footprints. I pulled out my hunting knife, armed and ready. I handed Tilly the other one Mama owned but never used.

We nodded our ready signal as we approached to feed the two standing witchbane.

That morning, I wrapped some terry leaves in bunches and rubbed their stems in meat grease from the iron pan on the stove. I sprinkled the powdered witchbane inside the bunched leaves for the dogs to ingest and fall asleep. The powder is meant to keep them sleeping for six hours, enough time to get in and out of the castle. As far as the dogkeeper, I brought my rope and a gag to tie him up and used sleeping powder to knock him out.

We throw out the grease-wrapped leaves inches before them, and the two guards eat them happily. Within two minutes, both lay under the watchtower and fell asleep. I approached the kennel and slowly closed the large wooden door, flipping the latch to keep the other hounds inside.

We enter the castle's front door silently. The floors are made of flattened stone patterns, and glass-stained windows with colorful painted animals and geometric designs line the hallway, lit with mounted wall torches on both sides. 

Tilly and I crept along the hallway, scanning the open rooms with no dogkeeper in sight. Our knives were in hand as we approached a large sitting room with roaring flames dancing in the fireplace. The dogkeeper was asleep, legs sprawled out on a large sofa. I nodded to her as she stood at the doorframe. I sprinkled the sleeping powder on his upturned, drooling open mouth, waiting for it to set in.

“Thank god that’s over. Help me bind him.”

We tie the dogkeepers' wrists and ankles in the remaining rope. I grab a torch from the wall, and Tilly does as well. Past the sitting room, nowhere in the castle is lighted. It is pitch black and frigid. We walk down another corridor and find the kitchen fully stocked with food—enough for ten families. 

Starving, I grabbed a jar of pickled vegetables and devoured it in moments. Tilly found a loaf of soft bread and pulled mouth-sized pieces off, a bite at a time, until it was gone. 

“Let’s find the relics. We can come back and grab some food on the way out,” I said, smirking at my sister, who had scraps all over her clothes. She giggled as she wiped the crumbled bread onto the floor.

Beyond the kitchen was a set of stairs that led up and one that led down. I glanced at the dark stairways, up and down. I couldn’t make a decision. This castle is so large with so many rooms, I don’t want to make the wrong one and waste more time.

“My gut is telling me down, Nora.”

We head down the winding stairs to a brisk room. I feel a wall to my right and use my fingertips to find a torch holder. Finding one a few paces along the wall, I light it. As the corner lit with light, I found two more, and more after that, until I walked the perimeter of the room, lighting the 20 torches all along the way.

We had found it—the collection room. 

Glistening items filled the room on silver carved pedestals. Books lined the upper walls, and paintings of vivid, intense color displayed the most intricate brush strokes. I could tell they were originals by the ridges left by the paint strokes. There were stone structures, metal armor on display, crowns filled with sparkling jewels, and weapons of all kinds. I had never seen swords, daggers, bows, hammers, and tools. Everything was neatly organized and displayed so the Duke could walk around the paths and admire them from several angles. 

That must be precisely what he does when he’s in this room. There are no places to sit but marked pathways of black and white tiles encircling the objects.

“Nora, what is all this? I don’t even know what some of this is. It all looks so rare and expensive. Some markings, designs, and even colors aren’t what we see in the solstice marketplace. How did he attain all of them? I can’t imagine where he must have traveled to get some of these artifacts. And what is the point? To walk around on these paths and look at them? For what reason? This man has everything he could ever need. He has an enormous castle that fit 10 of our village. He has ships, horses, dogs, and a kitchen so full of food it’s surprising he isn’t bursting the seams of his garments. What the hell is the point?”

“It’s breathtaking, though, isn't it? Maybe he likes to look at the pieces for their allure and beauty. Maybe that is what is most important to him. To hold and obtain and own all the beautiful things that he can. I hear he is not married; perhaps this room keeps him from loneliness.”

“That’s just absurd; objects cannot replace love, can they? Money and food can make things easier for survival, but surely they cannot replace caring and being cared for.”

“If he never had affection, how would he know? We don't even know what it feels like to have all these things.Maybe it’s a fulfillment better than love.”

“I have a crazy sister. I will say, though, that this round red stone is enticing. It almost looks glowing, which must be worth something.”

Tilly opens her cloth bag and picks up the round polished ball. The surrounding light becomes so intense that rays of color beam between her fingers while in her moistened palm. The room hums with power and vibration, and light waves encompass it. Her eyes stretch open and widen at the sight of the magnificent hues. A blanket of warm air, perfumed with jasmine, permeates the room. 

It smelt like the summer the family traveled to the village to live for the very first time. I was young, only standing at fathers knee. Tilly in her white cotton dress, with embroidered edges, circles of flowers with elongated stems marched around the bottom flowing hem. Her wavy blond, gentle curls swayed with the breeze as we stopped the horses and hooked them on dry wooden posts to explore the sand. We had never seen sand as we came from the wintery mountains of Balaria.

The tan surface was warm and slightly moist, creating peaks and valleys between our toes. I ran through with excitement, the sand flying off the bottom of my soles, creating a trail of grooves to the ocean waves. Tilly’s little legs could not keep up as she ran directly in step with my footprints. She cackled and swayed with each step as our parents pulled off their shoes and began laughing behind her. Papa scooped her up in his arms and ran faster to catch up with me.

I stood before the mighty ebb and flow of rising waves, curling at its edges with an intensity I had never witnessed before. The water peacefully reached my feet, and I would go back out and in again. I watched the sand sift through my skin with each tide pulled back into the sea. 

The ocean had drawn me in. Staring at the horizon made my body feel as if it was vibrating, pushing, and pulling with it. I was in a peaceful trance as I closed my amber hues and listened. Papa stopped alongside me, and silence enveloped us. He stood there watching me and told my sister to close her eyes. Mother slowed down to a walking pace behind me as Papa extended his hand, palms outward, and curled his knobby fingers around Mama's slender hand. She, too, joined us.

When I opened my eyes, I saw my family standing near me, breathing in the salty air. “What do you all have your eyes closed for anyway?” Papa bellowed out, howling with joy. We stayed on that beach all afternoon until the sun had set. We made camp there and journeyed the following day to our new home. 

I opened my eyes and saw the Duke's artifact room surrounding me.

“What, what is that? Do you recognize the smell? It is the shore we found when we first came here. You were so young, only a toddler, so why had I forgotten about that beautiful day? The day when our whole lives changed. Tell me, do you remember?”

The stone, still emitting light, sat in her hands as she looked up at me with tears welling in her eyes and a nod of confirmation.

The ground began to tremble, and paintings fell off the walls. A loud crash from below our feet rang piercingly in our ears. Something was coming and fast.

“Grab what you can! We have to get out of here!”

I grab some small items in the containers nearest to me and stuff them in my knapsack; I tie the strings taunt and swing over the bag on my left shoulder. Tilly is already ahead of me, running through the door to the front of the castle. I catch up behind her as we bolt for the front door. Running towards the horses in the forest, a thundering roar pierces across the night sky. We untie the horses from the posts, placing our legs on the saddles where snow has accumulated while inside. 

A giant beast emerges from behind the castle. Grunting, knawing, its spiked fur splashed with blood around its wide open mouth foaming with crimson and sticky strings of saliva clinging to the roof of its mouth as it roars and hunches its back like a cat, readying to charge full speed at us. Its large black eyes are fully dilated, noseless, and glass spikes peeking out of its long blue fur.

In a heartbeat, the creature leaps like a deer beyond our horses, landing directly in front of the forest. I kicked my horse's side and yelled, "Run!"

Tilly and I charged our horses forward as fast as possible, hunkering down and bent over to glide more easily with the force of the strengthening wind. The creature was only 20 feet behind us. Our horses panted, and we ran out of steam after a few minutes. The air was thick and full of fog and snow. We were unable to see far ahead of us. We outpaced the putrid monster, sighing with relief.

It took a moment to realize that we were no longer on the ground but in the air. I held tight to my horse's neck, pulled the knapsack around, and stuffed it between my legs as we fell deeper and deeper.

This is is, this is the end.

Suddenly, the force of falling stopped and slowed gracefully a dozen feet above the ground, my sister safe beside me. We landed in the ravine upright, still saddled on our horses. The beast stood at the top of the rocks, roaring into the earth as its failure echoed around us, bouncing between the ridged structures of formed rock.

“What... how did that.. how are we?”

Tilly pulled the savior from her cloak. It was still glowing, emitting waves of the jasmine shore aroma. 

“It was the stone; it protected us. Somehow, someway. It is full of magic. It is the embodiment of magic. This may be the most important stone ever created, ever forged, or who knows, one that may even have fallen from the heavens.”

I grinned as I held her tightly. Closing my eyes, my chin resting on her shoulder, I was transported back to the beach, where we held each other as our parents sat in the sand.