And that to me she seemed to be all nature,

Mother was sitting in the sunroom holding a cup of tea in her slender white hands. She smiled as we entered, turning on her cushions to take in the new arrival. Meriah with her rosy visage of youth and vitality fit nicely in the sunroom with its hanging plants and many panes of glass. The fat cat at Mother’s feet stirred at the opening of the door, walking haughtily to stand before the girl with tail upraised and whiskers twitching.

“Ah, pus!” Meriah’s eyes brightened as she knelt, lifting the yellow cat into her arms and stroking fondly beneath her chin.

“Sheba loves that.” Mother smiled. “That, my dear, is the quickest way to win her life-long good opinion.”

“Oh, I love cats,” the girl said sweetly. “My uncle Francois had the dearest old pus with the kindest blue eyes. His name was Thomas, and he loved to sit in the sun and watch the birds.”

“That’s strange,” Mother said thoughtfully. “My old gardener is called Francois, and he too had a cat just as you described. Oh, he never chased the birds, just watched them with a sort of smile on his face.”

“Yes!” Meriah beamed. “I think, madam, the two cats are one and the same. The markings around his eyes looked so much like spectacles.”

“Then you are the niece of whom Francois spoke so fondly?” Mother asked. “You are the girl whose love for all living things and unnatural knack for gardening have conspired to rap your uncle’s heart around your little finger.” She chuckled. “Oh, I know you, Meriah Lionetta Luguere.”

“A fair trade, my lady queen,” she replied. “There is nothing I would not do for him. That sweet old gentleman taught me everything in this world I cared to know. It is at his request that I come to you. You see, I wish to work for you in my uncle’s place.”

“Why, I’ve never heard of such a thing!” Mother beamed. “A lady gardener? Well my dear, if you possess even half of what your uncle speaks of, you will be a most excellent gardener”

“I will not promise excellence,” the girl said simply “because everybody holds a different opinion of what true excellence entails. But, my lady queen, I can promise my very best and keenest attention to the fair landscape of your palace. I can promise to put all I have into its care and happiness just as my uncle did before me.”

“I shall hold you to that.” Mother nodded gravely, taking a long sip from her mug in an attempt to hide the amusement flashing behind her blue eyes. “Serana, will you make sure her room is filled with flowers? She looks to be a maid appreciative of such homely comforts. Danielio, give Meriah a tour of the palace grounds. No one knows them better than you, after all.”

“Yes mother,” I and my sister spoke in unison.

We left her then, walking together through the palace, out the large triple-paned doors, and back in to the morning air. Once beneath the open sky, Meriah relaxed. The spacious interior had unnerved her, but this was not apparent in her graceful bearing, or in her gentle countenance. Only her eyes betrayed the vast relief coursing through her. Meriah was, I saw plainly, a thing of nature. She was a creature of earth and of water, of sky and of wind. While other girls would have stared in awe at the castle’s inner architecture, Meriah seemed intent on the evenly spaced windows and what they showed her of the world beyond.

“You will be staying in the cottage your uncle occupied previously,” Serana told her. “He will, of course, be staying with you until such time as you know the palace grounds by heart and need no father training in your new position. Then, Mother says she will move him into a house not far from you. Oh it will be so lovely to have another girl about the place!”

Meriah nodded, her innocent smile widening still more. “It will be nice to have such a sweet friend as you, dear Serana.”

The two girls embraced, and Serana fled on light feet toward the simple cottage that would be Meriah’s new home. “Come,” I told her, turning my wheeled chair toward the nearest set of flowers.

Meriah followed me, placing a hand on the back of my chair and talking gaily as we went along. She did not attempt to push me, and I was glad of this. There was little I hated more than being pushed, being controled by hands not my own. What right had people to dictate my destination? Who were they to perambulate me about like a small child? Perhaps they thought it a sign of respect to my station. Perhaps they saw it as a common courtesy. Either way, I was beginning to hate them for it, and then, there she was with her sweetness, light, and no desire to push me.

“Dan?” she asked, looking beyond me to a spot amid the flowers. “Who is she?”

“I see no one,” I replied. It was true. Beautiful blooms genuflected in the sunshine, whispering to one another as their fine heads brushed.

“There is a child,” Meriah told me seriously, her joyous look giving way to one of concern. “She is wearing a red satin dress with little rosebuds around the collar. She is pointing up at one of the castle’s high windows, the shuttered one on the left.”

I froze. Could this be possible? Could Meriah truly be seeing the spirit of my long dead sister and playmate? “Tell me more,” I ordered, a little more abruptly than I would have liked.

“Her hair is long,” she began “black like yours. And her eyes,” she shuddered, gripping the back of my chair with a shaking hand. “Her eyes, Dan, are so very old. It is as though she has lived a thousand years in a moment.”

I stared at her. Such a thing was preposterous, but how could I question the standing tears in her deep black eyes and the lines of worry creasing her brow. I wanted to shelter her, wanted to hide from her this apparition that had so troubled her. At the same time, a wanted to shake her, to ring from her every detail of my dead sister’s mood and appearance.

“She says,” Meriah spoke in a hushed tone “she says that one day soon, Serana will rule, and you Dan, will walk. She calls you Danny. She says her name is Chrystalin, and it wasn’t Father’s fault she fell off her horse.”

Meriah’s eyes went wide, and she shook her head emphatically. “You want me to what?”

“I beg your pardon?” I questioned, perplexed. “I did not ask you to do anything.”

“I know,” she said, rubbing a hand over her brow as if to clear it. “Chrystalin says she wants me to find your father, to tell him he is not to blame.”

“Forgive me, lady,” I said earnestly “but I am prone to skepticism on these matters. You know things, things I never told you, but my father will have you put to death if you tell him what you have told me.”

“I thought as much,” Meriah replied. “My uncle tells me he is quite mad..”

“He is,” I agreed. “There.” I pointed beyond the garden to the crest of a hill. “He rides. See how he clutches that doll to him?”

She stared fixedly, watching until Father was out of sight, still clasping the doll protectively as he scanned his surroundings with almost blank eyes. “Strange,” she said at length. “The girl and the doll are mirror images of each other.”

“I always thought as much,” I agreed “but it has been so long since I’ve seen her alive. I thought perhaps it was merely my imagination playing tricks on me.”

“No.” Meriah stared fixedly at the spot among the flowers where I saw nothing. “They could be twins.”

“Perhaps someone custom made it for him,” I speculated.

“More than likely,” Meriah agreed “and though I am sure it was done out of kindness, the making of such a doll for such a man was very cruel indeed.”

“It is the only thing keeping him happy,” I argued.

“Happy yes,” she said sadly “but it is as another wet log on the pyre of his sanity. Dear heavens, Dan! How can he release Chrystalin’s spirit when her effigy is solid and soft beneath his fingers?”

Great was my perplexity, and even greater was my worry. Why was Chrystalin not at rest? Why now did her spirit speak from beyond death’s vail? How did she expect me to walk? Walking was the only thing in the world to which I had resigned myself to failure. I loved my long lost playmate, but even love could not awake nerves long stilled.

I was destined to be a cripple as was Serana in her own entirely different but similar way. It was mother who crippled her. Dear mother had clasped about Serana’s ankles the irons of duty and of gender, making her unable to climb the mountain of success and rule Masra as it was her dearest wish to do. Innocent Chrystalin with her innocent ideals truly believed these two miracles would happen simply because they should, but I knew they would not. I knew too that Meriah, with all her sweetness and unassuming grace, could not convince Father of his blamelessness in my sister’s death.

“How do I obtain an audience with him?” Meriah asked.

“With my father?” I asked, bemused.

“Why, who else?” Her laughter was soft as the tinkling of bells. “I fear he may not be as approachable and sunny as is the lady queen.”

“No,” I agreed. “An audience with my father will be impossible for you to come by. You see, he only speaks to the winning knight at the end of a joust.”

Her brow furrowed as she considered. “Well then,” she said at last, “I must learn the art of knighthood, and once learned, I must master it.”

“And how, fair Meriah,” I enquired “will you undertake such a task??

“First,” she said simply “I must find one to teach me. Then, I must find time to practice that does not in any way detract from my gardening duties. Lastly, I must make completely sure nobody will find out that I am a girl. If they do, I feel sure they will not let me try my luck on the jousting field.”

“You are right,” I agreed. “The last woman who tried that was put to death.” I shuddered, my insides knotting at the recollection. “My father saw to it personally.”

“May that not be how it happens with me,” she said softly. “You won’t tell on me, will you Dan?”

Much to my dismay, I shook my head, promising in that single jesture my eternal silence. I could almost see her impending death hanging about her like a black cloak. Years ago, did not Chrystalin entreat me just so? Years ago, did my family not fall to ruin all for the want of my silence? Still, there was no denying her. There was no extinguishing the sparks that danced in her deep dark eyes.

“Oh dan!” exclaimed she. “Won’t this be fun?”

I think,” I said, shaking my head at her absurdity “that perhaps we have different definitions of fun.”

She shrugged, smiling sheepishly, looking like one used to this statement. The rains came then, falling soft upon her bright hair. She turned her face to the heavens, and transfixed, I watch the drops of water linger on her lips and kiss her eyes.

“Come Dan,” she said breaking the spell. “Chrystalin says she knows the perfect teacher.”

“Who?” I inquired.

“I know not,” she replied. “She is bouncing from foot to foot, tugging on my hand. She is running now, laughing.”

Meriah went off in pursuit of the apparition, and reluctantly, I followed. Like Serana, like our long dead Chrystalin, Meriah could ask me anything, and, if it were in my power, I would comply. I knew not where she lead me, she with no familiarity with the castle grounds. All I knew was that I must follow, and that to me, she seemed to be all nature.