Messenger in the Mist by Aubrie Dionne

alone, Star opened the box once again and took out the ruby, feeling the weight in the palm of her hand. She impulsively draped the pendant around her neck, fastening the clasp. It felt heavy on her chest, like it didn’t fit her, both physically and in station, but Star ignored the incongruity. She hid it underneath her blouse, the ruby falling in between her breasts, near her heart. After a moment of thought, she joined her mother, helping peel the onions for the stew.
    And a wonderful dinner it was. Vegetable dumplings, onion stew and a twisted loaf of wheat bread her father bought in town at the bakery. Somehow the conversation she’d had with her mother lifted a weight off of her shoulders, and she could sit back and enjoy the time with both her parents. They reminisced about taking Star to her first riding lesson, the day their family horse birthed Windracer and Star’s first tournament ten years ago.
    “Remember, they invited you to the castle,” her father said, still proud a decade later.
    “That’s right,” her mother chimed in. “It was the Midnight Ball, wasn’t it?”
    “Yes, I remember.” Star crinkled her nose. “I didn’t like it at all. In fact, I slipped away before the clock struck twelve.”
    A distant thought tugged at Star’s memory, but she couldn’t quite form any tangible conclusion. Something about that night remained a mystery to her.
    Her thoughts were interrupted by an insistent knock at the door.
    “Who could that be?” her mother asked no one in particular. “I didn’t invite anyone.”
    “I’ll go and see.” Her father wiped his hands on his napkin and tossed it on the table. Star sat with her mother, waiting as her father answered the door.
    “Maybe it’s the young man who gave you the necklace…”
    Star shook her head. “No, Mum, he lives in Ravencliff.”
    “Ravencliff!” Her mother’s voice rose and Star had to shush her. “You didn’t mention he lived so far away.”
    “I didn’t want you to worry.”
    Thankfully, her father reappeared in the hallway, silencing the conversation. He turned to Star. “It’s for you.”
    For a moment, Star allowed her heart to hope somehow Valen had ridden through the countryside to visit her, although the idea was preposterous. As she walked to the front room, she recognized Zetta immediately in the failing light.
    Zetta stood hunched in an old shawl. Her hair stuck out like an unwound cotton ball and her eyes were sunken in her face, dark and shifty pupils framed by purplish circles. She always looked a bit frazzled, but tonight she was utterly frantic. Every wrinkle in her face seemed crumpled up, making her look ten years older than her middle age.
    Star stifled the urge to slam the door in her face. “What are you doing here?”
    “There’s been a problem in the Interkingdom Carriers.”
    Zetta’s weary face played on Star’s heartstrings, and Star opened the door wider. “Come inside, Zetta, where there is more light.”
    “This is a private matter.”
    “Of course. I’ll make sure my parents retire to their room.” Star knew a person could hear anyone talk from any room of the small house, but at this point she didn’t care about the Interkingdom Carriers and their secrets. Besides, she would inform her parents of any news once Zetta left anyway.
    As she ushered Zetta to the front couch, Star signaled to her parents in the dining room to be quiet and closed the door. She sat across from Zetta in her father’s rocking chair. Zetta’s features darted in and out of the candlelight. “What sort of problem?”
    “Tia rode out two days ago, delivering important letters to Ravencliff. Her horse returned today without her.”
    She needn’t have said more. Star knew there was no hope. But Zetta continued, as if the gory details could not escape her mind. “There was blood on its back.”
    “Was the horse injured?”
    “No.”
    Silence fell between them. All Star could feel was sympathy, not only for Tia,