‘No,’ Bri groaned as she rolled over in her bed, mouth stretching wide into a yawn. A new day had arrived, and with it a coolness that caused her to retreat back under her blankets, pulling them up over her face. Cheery shouts and raised voices echoed throughout the village. Wynterríl. A broad grin spread over her face. She dressed quickly, pulled on her boots, and went to her mother.

  ‘Good Wynterríl!’ Bri said in greeting.

  ‘And to you!’ her mother replied. Her hands, calloused and cracked by years of hard work, rhythmically kneaded a ball of dough. ‘I’m making bread for the feast. I managed to get some flour. It’s not much but…’

  ‘Worry not,’ Bri soothed, ‘It will be appreciated.’ An icy chill brushed across her. ‘It’s colder today,’ she said, rubbing her arms in a desperate attempt to warm herself.

  Her mother peered out the window and sighed. ‘It’s the first snow.’

  ‘Snowfall.’ Bri uttered the word like an expletive. As a child, the sight would fill her with excitement, yet now she knew that it would lead to colder days, and even more worryingly, a higher chance of sickness spreading through the village.

  ‘You’ll be busy this winter,’ her mother said.

  ‘We’re busy every winter,’ Bri grumbled.

  ‘The Mountain will watch over us.’

  T?ndir. The great Mountain god has never answered our pleas. If he even exists. Bri scoffed.‘I hope the snow doesn’t prove too bad. If the Wyn barn dance is cancelled, it’ll bring people’s spirits even lower. We could do with something to celebrate.’

  ‘Now you are the one worrying. Nothing will prevent us from celebrating this day. Through flood and storm, there has never been a year we have not celebrated Wynterríl. Nor will there ever be.’

  They shared a smile as friendly shouts sounded once more. From the corner of her eye, Bri noticed three children running past the window with whoops of laughter. At least the King hasn’t taken Wynterríl from us.

  ‘Where’s Father?’

  ‘Oh, he was up with the dawn chorus!’ her mother laughed. ‘Gone to try and catch the travellers early. You know he likes to hear the news from other Kingdoms. Not that I know why. It’s nothing to do with us, really.’

  ‘Maybe it’s because life in the other Kingdoms is better than that of Krys.’

  ‘Other Kingdoms don’t have a Wyn barn dance. Now go on, see if Letitia is coming. I’d like to talk to her about her mead.’

  ‘She’ll never give you the recipe, even if you beg!’

  ‘We’ll see. Just get her to come.’

  ’I’ll try, but you know how she can be.’

  Her mother laughed. ‘Aye, that I do.’

  With this, Bri picked up her skirts and left her home in good temper. She passed a number of villagers, some immersed in conversation with fellow merchants, others speaking about who would be attending the barn dance. Bri grinned as she noticed Dray and Sorren, two local farmers, sitting outside the bakery, placing bets on whether the village elder would join the festivities. Dray, the shorter of the two, owned a large amount of the Southern farmland, much to his fellow farmers’ chagrin. But today a temporary truce seemed to have formed. With Sorren, at least.

  ‘Three eggs he turns up halfway through, stinking of mead,’ Sorren guffawed.

  ‘I’ll give you five if he doesn’t turn up at all!’ Dray replied, winking at Bri and raising a hand in greeting.

  ‘Gambling is illegal in Krys, you know,’ she teased.

  ‘Only if you get caught!’ Sorren laughed.

  Bri shook her head in amusement and continued onwards to Letitia’s.

  ‘Letitia, it’s Bri!’ she called out, poking her head round the door.

  Letitia sighed as she hung an assortment of herbs on a drying rack. ‘What are you so happy about, Bri?’

  ‘Good Wynterríl! Mother wanted to know if you were coming to the barn dance.’

  ‘Humph.’ Letitia turned away from her herbs to look at Bri. ‘I’m too old for dancing, and if I know your mother, she’s just after my mead recipe.’

  Bri joined Letitia in her work, passing herbs from the table to her hand. It didn’t seem so long ago when she had to stand on the very tips of her toes, stretching high in order to reach the drying rack. The thought brought her back to happier days. Of Irys, running wild through golden cornfields, carefree and exuberant. A simpler time. Irys. How you loved Wynterríl, spending the week before speaking of nothing but the coming celebration. But no, I must not think of you, or I’ll break.

  ‘Every year you say you won’t come to the barn dance,’ she said, ‘yet every year you do. Anyway, won’t the travellers attend?’

  ‘The travellers always attend,’ Letitia replied, as she brushed small remnants of herbs from her worn dress. ‘Wind, rain, or shine.’

  ‘And they wouldn’t miss exchanging their wares for any of your potions. Everyone in Krys knows you’re the best herbalist around. They’ll be expecting you.’ So rare is it to see mirth among our people, Bri thought. That is why I won’t let you hide yourself away.

  ‘Hmm…Well, it may be good for business.’

  ‘And more besides.’

  ‘But your mother will have to think again if she wants my mead recipe. No-one outside my family knows of it. That’s the way it’s always been, and it’ll die with me.’

  ‘Oh, Letitia, must you be so stubborn and dramatic? I don’t see the harm in it. Besides, it would be a true shame for such a beloved mead to be lost.’

  ‘And that’s why you’re the apprentice and I’m the mentor. If I give the recipe to your Mother, all of Krylla will want it too. Then it is no longer mine. This recipe has been passed down from mother to daughter for generations. No longer would it be as precious as it is now. Understand?’

  Bri sighed. ‘I suppose so, but my mother will be harder to convince.’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  ‘Well,’ Bri said, ‘I’m glad you’re coming. Shall we leave now? You’ll be able to catch the merchants early.’

  ‘Very well, very well,’ Letitia said, tying the last bundle of herbs before setting down the remainder of her twine.‘I’ve got some salted mutton and some mead I can bring.’

  Gwendoline and Jonah had already arrived outside the barn, heads together, deep in discussion. Bri smiled to herself as a pink blush spread across her friend’s cheeks. Gwen’s going to make a beautiful bride.

  Letitia followed her wistful gaze. ‘They’re well suited.’

  ‘They are,’ Bri agreed.

  A grimace formed on Letitia’s face.‘Ah, there are your parents,’ she said. Bri followed her gaze, noticing her mother in deep conversation with Hanna, one of the village’s most skilled seamstresses.

  ‘I won’t let her corner me, Bri,’ Letitia said. ‘She can try, but I’m keeping the recipe in here.’ She tapped her forehead. ’Not even the King’s soldiers can get that from me.’

  Bri laughed to herself as she followed Letitia over to Farmer Tannen, who busied himself by precariously lifting tables from the outside of the barn to the inside. ‘Tannen, wait!’ she cried, as he nearly lost his footing. ‘Let us get some help. You shouldn’t be doing this alone.’

  ‘I’m fine, girl,’ he replied gruffly. ‘I’m a farmer; I’ve carried heavier than this.’

  Overhearing the commotion, Dray made his way over to them. ‘Tannen!’ His voice boomed. ‘There you are, you stubborn old man.’

  ’I can certainly manage without your help.’ Tannen replied, shooting him a poisonous glare.

  Ignoring his protests, Dray took one end of the table. ‘Don’t be a bigger fool than usual. Put away your pride, for once.’

  ’Pride?’

  ‘Aye, pride. You never were able to accept help from anyone. If you were freezing to death, you wouldn’t accept a blanket.’

  ‘With the wool produced from your ratty old sheep, I’d be surprised if you could make a half-decent blanket at all.’

  ‘Oh, Tannen,’ Bri said,‘why can’t you two have a friendly conversation, for once?’

  The two farmers had been at each other’s throats for more years than any could count. Some said the feud had been over a woman, others land. It’s gone on so long, Bri thought, I think even they’ve forgotten how their quarrel began.

  ‘Now, enough of this!’ Letitia said, her firm voice commanding. ’For T?ndír’s sake, you’re no longer children. Cease acting as though you are. It’s Wynterríl, surely you can put your petty squabbling aside for one day.’

  ‘I’ve been trying to make peace for years!’ Dray protested, ‘but this buffoon is more stubborn than a mule.’

  ‘Peace?’ Tannen shot back, ‘Pah! You women don’t understand, that man is a menace. The bane of my life.’

  ‘Be quiet! Enough talking,’ Letitia snapped, ‘and Tannen, allow the younger men to assist with the remainder of these tables. You’re no use to the farm with a broken back.’

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  ‘You sound like my wife.’ he grumbled. ‘Though mayhap you are right. Farm life has not been easy of late.’

  Dray bowed his head in sympathy. ‘In these times, few things are easy.’

  ‘Well,’ Tannen grunted, ’they’ve certainly been better. I lost three ewes recently. This year’s lambing season could prove difficult. And after Michel was taken…’ A note of sorrow came into his voice. ‘Well, we’ve a hand less.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Tannen,’ Bri murmured.

  ‘And I.’ Letitia said.

  ‘I’ll make do. Always have,’ Tannen said, daring Dray to disagree.

  His stoicism never ceases to impress, Bri thought.

  ‘If there’s anything I can do to help, I will, Tannen,’ Dray said. ‘Just say the word, and I’m sure I can spare one of my boys for a while.’

  ‘Nay, Dray,’ Tannen scoffed. ‘It’s too late for you to make up for the scars you left, so stop trying. Letitia, Bri, you’re most kind, but your own families come first. Now, enough speaking of my woes.’ He gestured to the remaining tables. ‘The younger lads will have to deal with this. We’ll need them strong with the days ahead of us.’

  Letitia’s brow furrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I can feel a change coming in the air. For better or worse, I know not.’

  She sighed,‘why must you be so mysterious?’

  ‘When the old King died,’ Tannen said, ‘I felt a dread come over me. I could sense that a shadow would grow amongst the Kingdoms. The night before our Michel was taken, there was a chill in my bones I’d never felt before.’

  ‘Like magic? Second sight?’ Bri whispered. Both Letitia and Dray gave her a withering look.

  ‘Nay!’ Tannen scoffed, ’I’m not that superstitious. Just a sense. A feeling.’

  In a brisk tone, Letitia said, ‘Come Tannen, Dray, the merchants should be arriving soon. You’ll enjoy hearing the news from the outside world. And it’s warmer in the barn.’

  ‘Humph. What use have I for the lands outside Krys? Unless they are coming to topple the King from his obsidian throne.’ Tannen replied.

  Bri shivered at his utterings. An echo of the words Gyron had spoken at Letitia’s. Perhaps they’re right. Maybe a rebellion is coming. The idea sent a chill through her. But if so, how will I protect my family from the chaos this would bring?

  Letitia shepherded the two farmers inside, watching as they went their separate ways. Once certain they could no longer hear her words, she grabbed Bri’s arm firmly, turning her so they stood face to face. ‘You’re going to get yourself into trouble if you keep going on about magic, Bri,’ she said in an undertone. ‘Don’t let me catch you speaking of it again.’

  Bri opened her mouth to respond, but thought better of it. She’ll never see things as I do. So few feel the same way as I about magic. ‘I’m going to stay out here and wait for the Embrian glassmakers,’ she muttered.

  ‘What do you need glass for?’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s beautiful? It’s said the glass is made by...’ Bri’s voice faltered, as she cursed herself for forgetting Letitia’s warning so soon. ‘Never mind.’

  Not long after, her keen ears picked up the sound of the travellers’ wagons. They’re here!’

  ‘Ah, good,’ Letitia said, clapping her hands together. ‘Now we can do some business.’

  ‘Wynteríll is about more than just business, Letitia.’

  ‘Aye, it’s about feasting and dancing!’ Dray chimed in, having wandered back outside in search of Letitia. ‘You’re looking most fine this day, Letitia. Surely you can spare one dance?’

  ‘Enough, Dray. I’m not here for frivolities,’ Letitia snapped.

  ‘I’ll get a dance from you one day.’

  ‘I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, I’m uninterested in your advances.’

  Bri snorted with amusement as she watched and listened to their exchange.

  ‘A man can hope,’ Dray said with a wink.

  One by one the travellers made their way into the barn, Letitia eagerly greeting each by name. ‘Come Bri,’ she said, ‘watch and learn. Someday you will have to know how to do this yourself.’

  ‘Haggling?’ Bri questioned.

  ‘Nay, that comes later. First comes celebration and revelry. I shall make my rounds. It also helps to know each merchant by name and trade.’

  ‘Building a good rapport?’

  Letitia nodded her approval. ‘Precisely.’

  ‘And exchanging the latest gossip.’ Bri smirked.

  ‘You’re catching on.’

  Bri gave Letitia a nudge. ‘Look, there’s Hanna.’

  The short, curly-haired woman came rushing towards the travellers, no doubt having heard their raucous commotion and chatter. ‘Speaking of gossip,’ Letitia laughed. Every villager knew of Hanna’s reputation, and every new tid-bit of news or information came straight from her mouth.

  ‘Ah, she’s gone to talk to Amber.’ Letitia noted.

  ‘Amber?’

  ‘One of those Embrian glassmakers you’re so fond of. Let us go and meet with them. You ought to know their names by now.’

  ‘Yes, Letitia,’ Bri replied, bowing her head at the chastisement.

  Together, Bri and her mentor made their way towards Hanna and the Embrian.

  ‘Letitia!’ the trader cried, ‘It’s so good to see you, and your little apprentice too.’

  ‘She isn’t so little anymore, Amber,’ Letitia laughed.

  ‘What news from Krys? Has Daeus become any kinder in his old age?’

  ’King Daeus,’ Hanna corrected, passing her eye over one of the Embrian’s glass pendants.

  Bri snorted in derision.

  Amber raised an eyebrow. ‘I guess he hasn’t, though I can’t say I’m surprised.’

  ‘Careful, Amber,’ Letitia warned. ‘At least lower your voice.’

  ‘Very well.’ The trader spoke quickly, in a hushed, lilting voice. ‘I heard a rumour that your King Daeus has secretly been moving some of his spies into Natur. I know not why, but I hope Fernesse – my daughter, is well. I’ve received no missive from her for days.’

  ‘I’m sure she’s fine, Amber,’ Hanna said. ‘The only reason the soldiers would invade Natur would be to root out the magic-users.’

  ‘But surely the sorcerers in Natur are none of the King’s concern,’ Bri burst out.

  ’Bri!’ Letitia admonished.

  ‘I just meant that he’d be more concerned with his own lands. Besides, Krys is the only Kingdom where magic is outlawed.’

  Amber gave Bri an approving smile. ‘It’s good to see an apprentice with such a quick mind.’

  ‘She has a quick tongue,’ Letitia replied sharply. ‘One that may well get her into a situation I can’t get her out of.’

  Hanna nodded her agreement. ‘Bri’s starting to sound like that Gwendoline girl. It would be best to keep her away from such troublemakers, Letitia.’

  ‘I will if it’s necessary.’

  Satisfied with Letitia’s answer, and eager for more gossip, Hanna turned to Amber. ‘And what news from Embre?’

  ‘The glassworks is doing well. In fact, Queen Miriael commissioned us to create a sculpture for her daughter’s sixteenth birthday.’

  ‘What an honour!’ Bri exclaimed, ‘you must be so proud.’

  ‘We have been blessed this year,’ Amber agreed. ‘Our Queen is most gracious. Long may she live.’

  ‘Long may she live,’ Bri, Letitia and Hanna echoed in unison.

  ‘By your leave, I will join the other merchants in the barn,’ Amber said. ’I would hate to miss out on the Wynterríl feast. Your butcher never fails to impress, year after year.’

  ‘We’ll join you,’ Letitia replied, ‘before it gets any colder outside.’

  Inside the barn, a long table stood prominent. Laden with an abundant assortment of donated food, a honey-glazed ham had pride of place in its centre.

  Whilst Letitia had drifted away to gossip with the other traders, Bri looked about the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she sighted a familiar boy hovering one of the smaller, round tables. Bri tutted. ‘What are you up to?’ she muttered to herself, as she watched Jack’s movements from a distance.

  Hanna’s eagle eyes had already caught sight of him. Rushing over, she said, ‘It’s not yet time for the feast, boy! So keep your grubby hands away from the food, or I’ll give you a clip round the ear!’

  Jack stood unabashed whilst she continued to berate him. ‘Nothing gets past me, Jack!’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ Jack protested. ‘I’m just looking! That’s some nice cheese there. Did it come from your goat?’

  ‘It did,’ Hanna said, a note of pride in her voice. ‘But don’t think your flattery will distract me. I’ve still got my eyes on you, young one.’ She gave him a fierce scowl before walking away.

  ‘Of course,’ he said, offering Bri a wink and a sly smile as she came up to him.

  ‘Don’t cause trouble today,’ Bri warned. ‘I know you too well, Jack.’

  ‘And a very good Wynterríl to you, too!’ he replied. ‘When have you ever known me to cause trouble?’

  Bri laughed. ‘Do you really want me to answer that?’

  Jack grinned, but the smile did not quite reach his eyes. Despite his bravado, his face seemed to hold an expression of melancholy.

  Something is amiss, Bri thought. Never before have I seen you like this.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ she pressed. ‘You seem…worried.’

  Jack shrugged. ‘The same thing that’s been wrong for years. The King, the soldiers. But change will come soon.’

  ‘Be careful, what you’re saying could be taken as treason. People have been killed for less, or taken to the mines.’ I sound like Letitia, she thought wryly.

  ‘You worry like a mother hen. They’d never catch me, Bri.’

  ’I mean it, Jack, you must be more careful, I couldn’t bear losing you. You are as a brother to me.’

  Jack’s expression softened as he placed his small hand in hers. ‘Well, if I ever had a sister, I would’ve liked her to be just like you.’

  There is something more to this…something I’m missing. She frowned. ‘What’s really going on? Are you in any peril?’

  ‘As long as the King sits on the throne, we’re all in peril,’ he replied.

  ‘Jack…’

  ‘Stop your fretting, I’ll be fine.’

  ’I know there’s something.’

  He sighed, before giving a begrudged reply. ‘Aye, there is. You always could see right through me.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Bri commanded.

  ‘I will, I swear it,’ he said. ‘But not yet. And that’s all I’m saying of serious subjects for now.’

  ’Very well. But I will get an answer from you. Don’t play games with me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare,’ Jack said, in an attempt to return to his jocular self. ‘Now, stop standing around here and find a nice lad to dance with.’

  ‘Humph,’ Bri replied, ‘I know what you’re doing, trying to change the subject. Besides, we both know I’m no dancer.’

  ‘Well, then just stand in the corner and appreciate my fine tunes.’ Jack produced a wooden flute from his pocket, idly twirling it between his fingers.

  ‘You’re going to play for us?’

  ‘If you ask nicely.’

  Bri rolled her eyes. ‘I should’ve known you wouldn’t waste a chance to show off.’

  At once Jack struck up a merry tune. As if on cue, a few couples began to make their way to the centre of the barn, including Gwendoline and Jonah, whose arm slipped around his partner’s waist.

  Bri watched as Dray sidled up to Letitia and grabbed her by the hand, catching her unawares. Despite her scowl, she allowed him to lead her into a dance, much to Bri’s surprise. Mayhap Letitia knows how to be merry after all.

  With the conclusion of her dance, Gwendoline rushed over to where Bri stood. ‘Now, Bri, where’s your partner?’ she demanded.

  ‘I have none, but I am very happy to see you enjoying yourself.’

  ‘Well, that’s no fun!’ Gwendoline grabbed her by the hand as Jack began to play increasingly faster. Laughing alongside her, Bri allowed herself to be twirled round the barn until, faint with dizziness, she unceremoniously stumbled onto the nearest chair.