Anna

They lived alone in a cramped one-room flat that attached to the neighboring apartment buildings. A small short structure almost lost among the standard drab towers of rooms stacked precariously atop of one another, designed to cram in as many people as possible.

Anna and her grandmother made do with what meager income they gathered taking in laundry from Asha residents, on top of the mending and the occasional seamstressing commission obtained from their affluent customers in the district of Cavenborough.

Anna helped as best she could. The girl had picked up her first needle at the tender age of five and now, at eight, was able to do her share of sewing, mending, and folding, and knew how to boil water for the wash. Every morning Anna would rise well before dawn and walk through the market, to cross the border of the lower districts, making rounds to pick up what work they could from the mansions that lay just over the wall.

It had taken Grandmother months to obtain the verification papers necessary to do business outside of Asha. But the old woman was loved by everyone, and so was so very resourceful, that the task had been less impossible than it might have been for others.

Grandmother had lived in the countryside as a child, and had brought her knowledge of various herbal remedies and healing arts when she moved to the Capital. There were not many doctors who would come to Asha, especially since the regulations for coming and going from the lower districts had become more strict over the years. Most in Asha couldn't afford them anyway. Instead, lots of people came to Anna's grandmother for help.

Grandmother kept a garden of potted plants, and had provided relief and remedy for most of the people who lived in the district, from the highest to the lowest. From the baker's wife whose childbirth she had eased, to the blacksmith for whom she had made a poultice to heal his horse's leg; there were few who were not in some way indebted to Mariana Cassis.

Even one of the gate guardians had been aided by her skill when he got a nasty cut on the barbed wire that surrounded the wall and no doctor could not be found to clean and bind the wound properly. All Grandmother had to do was beg a few favors, and the hard sought pass was won.

Anna loved venturing through the bustling marketplace as it set up in the early morning, filled with people pedaling their goods before the sun was fully hung in the sky. She loved the wonderful smells of fresh baked bread, and smoked meats in the air as they mixed in to mask the pungent, sweet sour sent of rotting garbage that littered the street. She felt at home in the chaos of shouting voices, hooves and wagon wheels along the cobblestones, and the friendly smiles of the Asha residents she passed each day. Even in the coldest of months, when the trek left her lungs sore from the harsh taste of bitter winds, and kept her fingers and toes numb all day, Anna was still eager to make the journey to the Middle district.

Hints of spring had been creeping over the city for weeks, but when Anna rubbed the sleep from her eyes that morning, she was shivering. Looking out the small window of their flat, she could see the weather was of the dreary sort, damp with the threat of rain. It seemed that overnight the winter had returned, grabbing onto the city in one last desperate attempt before the spring could pry loose its icy grasp for good. As Anna set out, the sky was still was dark, with no hint of sunrise on the horizon, filled only with a swirling array of gray clouds.

The streets were quiet in the early hours of the day, especially with the weather was bad as it was. Anyone who could afford to stay indoors would find it hard to leave the warmth of their beds. Even the market was barer than usual. Not that many customers would come if the rain started up anyway. Still, the guards at the checkpoint were there. They were always there.

Anna knew that lots of people didn't like venturing too close to the edge of the district, but she had never really understood why. In spite of the wall's towering slabs of gray stone and ornamental crown of pointed metal barbs, she had never felt particularly frightened crossing the border. Many of the soldiers at the checkpoint knew her by name, and always had smile for her.

From a little ways off Anna could see the men in the watchtower wave as they caught sight of her, their bright red uniforms swaying back and forth like brightly colored flags. She was glad to find Brent Carper stationed at the main gate. Brent was the gate guardian Grandmother had fixed up. He was always the nicest. As she approached, he smiled and tipped his hat.

"Good morning, Anna," he said, "fancy a trip to the fanciest place north of Asha?"

Anna giggled, even though he said the same thing almost every day.

"Got your pass then?"

Anna nodded, reaching into her pocket of her skirt to retrieve the folded piece of vellum inscribed with fancy curling letters and the royal seal at the bottom. She always kept her gate pass very safe. Without identification Anna knew that she and her grandmother would no longer be able to get their commissions from Cavenborough. She also knew that to cross to the upper districts, without permission, was a grave offense.

After inspecting her pass, Brent gave a quick glance left and right, to make sure that no one was looking.

"I've got a surprise for you," he said, as he reached into his pocket. "Hold out your hands and close your eyes," Anna smiled as she did what she was told, playing their little game and closing her eyes tight. She felt the soft plop as a small something landed in her palms.

"Okay, open."

Anna looked down to see the piece of candy he had dropped, wrapped in bright blue paper.

"Our little secret right?" he said with a wink.

Anna grinned, nodding as she slipped the candy into her pocket.

"You say hi to your grandma okay?' he said, "Tell her the arm feels great!"

She nodded again and promised she would, as she stepped through the great stone archway.

Passing through the gates was like entering a fairy tale. On the other side of the wall, beautiful towering mansions of at least two stories each, lined the cobblestone roads, which in Cavenborough, were so clean it seemed to Anna that they almost shined.

She had heard tell that in the royal city, which lay beyond the middle and upper districts, the streets were actually paved in gold, and she believed it. After all, she could not imagine anything less than golden streets could outshine the beauty of Cavenborough. Of course she had never really been able to explore the city properly. Anna was only there for business. Citizens of Asha were given limited permits to enter the other districts of the Capital city, and Anna knew that it was very important to obey the rules.

She stuck to the back roads, as her grandmother had taught her, never dallying, as she went to the servant's entrance of the houses on her route. It was always located around the back. It was there that the domestics would come out with any mending they might have for her. Occasionally, their clients would even order some of Grandmother's tonics, but today, it seemed there was not much to be fixed.

It had been a few days in fact since they had gotten any new work from Cavenborough, and it was hard not to feel disappointed. Their laundry business was not enough to get by on, and Grandmother refused to charge much of anything for her remedies.

"I can't deny people in need," she would say. "It is our job in this world to care for one another Anna. You must never forget that."

Anna knew that Grandmother was right, but she also knew that they needed the money. The jar of coins Grandmother kept hidden in the cupboard was not very full, and their store of supplies was dwindling. Anna had been hopeful that today at least one of their clients would have work for her. Still, she had not given up yet. After all, she had saved the best house for last. The Hurstons.

Of all their clients, they were her favorite by far. Their home was the most grand, towering three stories high and complete with castle like turrets. As Anna walked down the familiar alleyways to her final stop, she hoped that the Hurstons would not fail her.

Ringing the servants' bell at the back of the family's large mansion one of the maids came to greet her.

"Who's calling?" a loud voice shouted from somewhere inside. Anna immediately recognized the gruff voice of the Hurston's housekeeper.

"It's the Cassis girl," the maid replied.

"Mistress left some of her things to be mended," the voice shouted back. "Fetch them for her."

"Yes mam," the maid replied as she set off in search of the mending, leaving Anna outside in the cold. She didn't mind. The Hurstons always paid them well for their services and Anna was glad that she would not have to return home empty handed.

Still, in spite of her victory in Cavenborough, the day had been a long one. As Anna returned with her load from the other side, a rain had picked up, and by the time she got home she was soaked to the bone and shivering. The cold sleet kept them inside for the rest of the day, except to dump the dirty laundry water in the alleyway behind the building, and amidst the smell of soap and talc from the daily wash, the flat felt more suffocating than usual.

There was one benefit however to days like this, and Anna had been awaiting it ever since dawn when she saw the gloomy weather settled in. There was little question, with weather so bad, the guards would allow the citizens to light their fires tonight.

Normally the curfew in Asha was strictly enforced. By ten o'clock, citizens were to be out of the streets, and homes were commanded to extinguish all lights. But in the winter things were different. To allow citizens to combat the cold, hearth fires were considered acceptable after dark, and were exempt from the curfew.

The soldiers of the night patrol would make their rounds after all were secured in their homes, and ring the Fire Bell, signaling that people could leave their main fire lit for warmth. But Anna and grandmother's hearth would provide more than heat, it would provide cover for their secret. Tonight she knew Grandmother would read from The Book.

The Book was not very important looking, its leather cover worn, a dull unremarkable grayish brown. Grandmother kept it hidden under a loose floorboard by the hearth, and in the colder months, huddled by the fire, the old woman would read aloud the great stories contained within its pages. Anna herself had even begun to learn her letters, a rare skill among the residents of the lower districts of the Capital. Grandmother had been taught to read and write long ago and she told Anna that she would "sooner die than raise her granddaughter to be illiterate." Anna had laughed at that.

"Oh grandmother," she had said, "nobody ever died on account of a book or some silly letters." Her grandmother's face had become very serious.

"You must never tell anyone that you can read," she said sternly. "And you must never ever tell of The Book or speak of anything contained in its pages."

The intensity in her grandmother's eyes had been frightening. Anna had always been proud to be trusted with the secret of The Book, but that day, she had felt truly afraid. Realizing, perhaps for the first time, that this was not a game.

Now, with spring arrived, Anna had thought that The Book would not reappear until the summer had passed, but the unusually cold day would likely give her one last chance to hold the supple leather and read the stories contained within the sacred pages. Not even her chapped hands and sleepy eyes could keep down her excitement.

When the sun set, Anna and her grandmother ate the sparse remains of the previous day's stew along with a bit of stale bread the nearby baker have given them that morning in exchange for their services. It wasn't much, but it was more than they could often afford, and Anna felt pleasantly full.

At curfew, they drew their curtains, as was proper, and extinguished all of their tapers. Then they put on their nightclothes and waited for the thump thump of the Royal Brigade as it made its rounds, to ensure that all were securely indoors and retired for the evening.

To be caught on the street in Asha after curfew was a capital offense, enforceable on the spot. The night guard was not known for leniency, and the people of Asha were careful and followed the rules. The curfew had been in place as long as Anna could remember, and she could not imagine why anyone would think to disobey. But she had heard it, the echoing crack in the air, shots that rang out in the silent black of night. Those were the nights that Grandmother would hold her just a little closer, the nights that Anna's stomach tied into tight knots that made it hard to sleep.

Anna stood near the window, peering through the curtain to watch the retinue of soldiers pass by as they made their rounds. Her eyes stared into the flickering torches they carried, the orange yellow light bathing their dark forms, the glint of metal on their bayonets shining. Sure enough, a clear tinkling bell could be heard over the click of boots on the cobblestone road. The Fire Bell.

When the men neared, Anna pulled her head out of view, her heart beating quickly as she held her breath, waiting for the sound of footsteps to fade as the night guard continued on their rounds. Only then did Grandmother go to the secret place. Using her cane, the old woman pried the loose floorboard from the others to reveal what lay beneath. The Book.

Grandmother picked up the small volume with care, as she always did, like it was a newborn baby, and unwrapped it carefully from the dark blue velvet she kept swaddled around the cover to keep the dust off. She handed the cloth to her granddaughter. Threadbare though it was, for Anna, the piece of velvet was the softest most luxurious fabric they owned, so different from the coarse wool and rough linens she was used to. She loved to rub it between her fingers and against her cheek.

Grandmother went to her rocker by the fire and Anna pulled up her small stool beside her. She used to sit in Grandmother's lap, but she was too big for that now. Instead, Anna pushed her stool as close as she could to Grandmother's side, and the old woman wrapped an arm around her.

"Now where were we?" Grandmother asked, flipping through the pages to find the leather thong that held their place." Ah yes, the book of Amara. My favorite," She looked down at Anna smiling. " Would you care to do the honors?" she asked.

Anna received the small volume with reverence as her grandmother passed it to her, allowing her fingers to linger on frayed paper edges, before she began.

"And when the God had created the lands, he put upon it creatures that, like him, could never die. And these creatures were known as the fair ones, the fae. And among these people, the lord God placed a crown upon the head of the most powerful, charging her to rule the world as she saw fit. This one was known as Amara, meaning unfading, eternal, for she was to rule the immortals until the end of days. Her shining beauty was matched only by her wisdom and her law was just and good.

"In his great wisdom God chose as well, one from among those of mortal blood and gave her the title of Nita. It was the solemn promise of the Lord that in every generation he would choose a woman to take on that tile. A woman of great power, magik and prophecy, who might provide the human race with a champion to lead them in times of darkness and maintain their place along side his immortal creations.

"And having thus placed such worthy leaders upon the earth God smiled upon his creations, vowing that as long as allegiance was shown to his laws and his chosen rulers, the land would forever prosper."

"Is Amara real?" Anna asked her grandmother, pausing in her reading.

Grandmother smiled. "The fae and their Queen are as real as you or I," she answered. "As real as the God above."

"And the Nita?"

Grandmother laughed. "But of course my little Anna," she answered. "What's more, I knew her once, though that was a long time ago now."

"When you lived outside of the city?"

The old woman nodded. "Yes," she replied wistfully. "When I traveled the Empire. When I studied in the great cloisters of Sithrah, where women go to learn of healing and magik. A place where Amara's power is shared by those worthy enough to obtain her favor. When I visited the great cities where our people still live without fear, ruled by their own..."

"Our people?" Anna asked, looking up at her grandmother in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Grandmother returned her attention to Anna as if startled to see her still there beside her. There was a slight look of fear in her eyes. She didn't answer Anna's question.

"What did you mean by 'our people' Grandmother?" Anna asked again.

"Nothing," her grandmother answered quickly. "Nothing at all. I am a silly old woman and I forget myself sometimes." She gave Anna a warm smile. "Let's continue reading."

Anna read until her eyes grew heavy with sleep and Grandmother took up where she had left off. Anna laid her head on her grandmother's lap, feeling the skin of the old woman's hand with her own, thin, soft like well-worn leather and she forgot about her grandmother's strange words.

Anna listened to grandmother's warm gravelly voice, strong and sure, as she recited the stories, the words they both knew by heart. They read late into the night, while the fire in the hearth slowly burned and dimmed, and Anna finally fell asleep, dreams of magikal women and faeries dancing through her head.