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  Ava reverently echoed the words.

  Magdalena leaned forward and clasped the pendant around Ava’s neck. When she stepped back her eyes were glistening. “Put the pendant beneath the dress,” she advised Ava. “That is for you and for you alone.”

  Ava nodded and did as instructed.

  Magdalena smiled. “Now, go. Go to your little sister. She needs you.”

  Ava didn’t need a second prodding. Her heart lifted with joy. Surely the ceremony had just repaired the bridge so she could return home!

  She clutched the jar tightly in her hands and ran to the front door. In a moment she had slipped through and was on the long path back to the bridge. She raced … raced …

  She skidded to a stop.

  She stared, aghast, doubt flooding her.

  The bridge was still out.

  Chapter Ten

  Ava blinked against the pounding rain, willing the scene to change. She pressed one hand against the pendant beneath her dress. Her voice rose high. “Bridge! Make me a Bridge!”

  The ropes remained slack, dangling down into black darkness.

  She staggered to her knees, staring into the abyss.

  Everything was lost.

  Her little sister would die.

  She raised her head and looked up into the night sky. “Please,” she pleaded. “I need help.”

  Whoosh

  A golden shimmer billowed out of the night sky, streaming through the clouds and curtain of rain. It created a circle on the grass alongside her and the dancing motes coalesced … solidified …

  A glowing ram stood before her.

  He was absolutely beautiful, with dense wool in a luminescent golden hue. His curled horns were spirals of turquoise blue fading to lavender. His eyes, large and wise, were soft gray.

  He nodded in greeting to her. “Welcome, young Ava. I am here at your call.”

  Ava’s mouth fell open, and her hand went again to the pendant at her breast. “You? You came to me?”

  “I will always come to you, when you need me,” he assured her. “Now climb onto my back and I will see you safely to your little sister.”

  Ava climbed up onto the sturdy back and tucked the jar into her dress. Then she twined both hands into his thick, golden fur. “I’m ready.”

  “Hold on,” he advised her.

  He turned left and began carefully down the path which edged the chasm.

  Ava’s stomach lifted into her mouth. She had hoped he would simply bound over the vast chasm and continue on the main path. But clearly the ram had other ideas. He was going to take the treacherous path along the edge of the cliff.

  She pressed herself close to his warm body.

  She would have to trust him.

  His voice rose to her as he placed hoof after hoof along the twisted rocks. “Do you know my story?”

  She shook her head. “I only know that my symbol is a ram.”

  He took in a breath and began.

  “Long, long ago, long before your grandparent’s grandparents were born, there was a queen who loved her son and daughter with all her heart. But her king was a fickle man. He put her aside and took up with a younger woman. That younger woman was not content to simply win the love of the king. She also wanted to do away with the two innocent children.”

  Ava paled. “That’s awful!”

  The ram nodded. He was at the cliff wall now and began slowly, carefully, finding his path along its face.

  His voice echoed in the dark. “The stepmother convinced the king that the children must die, to forestall a deadly famine. Their mother realized what was about to happen and she called for me to protect them.”

  Ava wrapped her arms more tightly around the ram. “But what could you do, if the king and his soldiers were set on killing the children?”

  His voice was low. “I would do whatever it took to keep them safe. For I loved them dearly.”

  His voice took on a chuckle. “And I am no ordinary sheep, as you might have guessed. I was sired by the god Poseidon. My mother was Theophane, grand-daughter of the sun-god. So I have both the water and the sun in my blood.”

  Ava looked in awe at the creature beneath her.

  He was the son of gods!

  “I managed to escape the castle with the two children on my back. I carried them, much as I am carrying you now. Sadly, the girl fell off during our long voyage, but the boy survived and was saved. My task complete, he held onto my wool as a treasured memento and allowed me to return to my home in the sky.”

  His voice took on a gentleness. “Just as you are now home.”

  Ava looked up in surprise.

  She blinked.

  She was home.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ava burst through the front door of her home, clutching at the jar of poultice.

  Her parents looked up in surprise, then confusion. Her mother said, “But I thought you were upstairs, asleep!”

  Ava tumbled to her knees at her mother’s side. “That doesn’t matter,” she insisted. She drew out the jar. “Here. I need to rub this on Marie’s chest. It will make her better.”

  Her father’s eyes creased in concern. “Where did you get that?”

  Little Marie gave a long, shuddering cough. Her breath was coming in fragile wheezes.

  Ava unscrewed the lid and delved her fingers into the green goo. “This will cure her,” she stated again, brooking no argument.

  She reached forward and gently rubbed the poultice on her little sister.

  The small child shuddered.

  She reached up toward Ava.

  She breathed in deeply –

  A smile came to Marie’s delicate lips. She breathed out, then in again, deeper this time, as if savoring the aroma.

  Her tiny body relaxed back against her mother. Her breathing moved in and out, slowly, growing with strength with each passing breath. The rattle of the cough eased and faded.

  Her mother stared at Ava in delighted shock. “How did you do that?”

  “A healer I met on my travels gave that to me. We need to apply it three times a day.”

  “Of course, of course,” agreed her mother, looking down at the baby. “I can’t believe it! It’s a miracle!”

  Ava pressed up to her feet and went to the door, which still stood open. She looked beyond for any sign of Aries.

  He was gone.

  * * *

  Ava blinked her eyes open in confusion. Streaming sunshine danced across the attic. Clearly it was well past morning.

  She staggered her way downstairs. Her mother was humming a song, while little Marie rested quietly in her cradle.

  Ava walked over. “Mother, why didn’t you wake me for school?”

  Her mother waved a hand. “With what you were able to do last night you deserved to sleep in. Here, I’ve made your favorite. Scrambled eggs with fresh dill.” She put the plate down on the table.

  Ava ate with relish, for she found she was starving. When she was finished she looked up at her mother. “I need to go thank the healer.”

  Her mother’s eyes lit up. “Maybe we should all go!”

  Ava paled. “No! I mean, ummm, she’s quite shy. I think she’d prefer it if only I went. You know how healers can be sometimes. I wouldn’t want to upset her, with all she’s done for us.”

  Ava’s mother nodded in understanding. “Of course,” she agreed. “If you feel that is best. Please pass along the heartfelt thanks from our entire family. If there is anything she needs, anything at all, she has but to ask.”

  Ava thought of the doors of the front gate, with how they sagged on the ancient hinges. “Perhaps I could get some items from father?”

  “If you think the healer could use the items, then absolutely. He will give you anything you need.”

  In short order Ava had gathered up a set of large hinges and put them in a bag over her shoulder. Then she set out for the mountains.

  The trek across the meadow and up the slope was becoming familiar to her. The
little stand of edelweiss; the fallen maple. At last she came to the fork in the road.

  The bridge was still out.

  Her hand went to the pendant …

  She shook her head. Magdalena had made it clear that Ava could not simply use the pendant willy-nilly any time she hit a challenge. Crossing the trail in the pouring rain last night was a matter of life or death – she had to reach her sister in time.

  But today she had all the time in the world.

  She tied the bag securely around her shoulders, turned right, and began.

  The path was narrow, but whatever animals had made it had worn it hard over the years. As long as she was attentive to where she placed her hands and feet her progress was steady. She knew better than to race ahead. She took her time, ensuring each step was secure before looking ahead to the next.

  At last she reached the other side. She looked back in satisfaction.

  She had done it!

  She took the long, straight road to the keep’s gates and smiled as she took in those sagging hinges. Then she crossed the courtyard and went to the front door.

  Her knock had barely finished echoing before the door drew open. “Welcome back, my girl,” greeted Magdalena. “No need for you to knock any more. Just come and go as you please. I take it your sister is feeling better?”

  “Much better, and it is all due to your poultice. You saved her life.”

  “We saved her life,” gently corrected Magdalena. “If you had not brought it back to her in time, then all the poultice in the world couldn’t have helped her.

  Ava beamed.

  Ava put down the bag. “I’ve brought you some new hinges for the gate. I thought we could get those fixed up.”

  Magdalena waved a hand. “In time, in time. But right now I need you to chop thin slabs of firewood. Lots and lots of firewood.”

  Ava opened her mouth to question why – and then closed it again.

  Magdalena had saved her little sister.

  If Magdalena now wanted a pile of firewood to reach the moon, Ava would gladly make it happen.

  She walked out into the courtyard and dug through the remnants of the forge until she found a grinding wheel. An old axe lay up against one wall. She sat down with both and in a short while she had a serviceable edge on the tool.

  Then she got to work.

  She chopped and stacked. Chopped and stacked. Magdalena brought out some water for her to drink, then vanished into the keep again. Ava didn’t mind. She would make a pile of wood which covered the courtyard. Which stretched to the very chasm itself. Which –

  She blinked in surprise.

  There was someone on the other side of the chasm.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ava put down her axe and ran on flying feet toward the chasm. She drew up as she got close.

  There, on the opposite side, was a young girl about her age. The girl wore a flowing blue dress with no sleeves. Her short, golden hair billowed in curls which ended just at her shoulders. Ava had never seen a girl with hair that short. In her village all the girls wore their hair long.

  Ava called across, “Who are you?”

  “I’m Theresa,” answered the girl, staring down in curiosity at the remnants of rope.

  “The bridge went out,” explained Ava.

  “I can see that,” chuckled the girl. She dug into a grey sack at her side and brought out a sturdy coil of rope. She went to the tree on the left and carefully tied the start of the rope to the base of the tree. Then she returned to the edge of the chasm. “Ready?”

  Ava’s brow creased. “Ready for what?”

  The girl took in a deep breath. Then she began to whirl, the rope held out and high, building up momentum. At last she flung it out.

  The rope flew … flew … uncoiling … and Ava reached out her hands. She grabbed at the last set of loops and caught it.

  Theresa pointed. “Tie it to that tree over there.”

  Ava went as instructed and set it into place with a sturdy knot.

  Theresa tugged at it to test it and nodded in satisfaction. Then she dug into the bag again.

  Another coil of rope. A tie to the second tree’s base and another flinging into the air. A second baseline set.

  Theresa called, “And now for the top ropes.” She brought out a pair of thinner coils.

  Ava had the pattern down now. It seemed easier to catch the flying coils; easier to tie them securely into place. She wondered what Theresa would produce next.

  Theresa began laying down coils of even smaller rope. Apparently these would be used to create the lattice on the sides of the bridge and to hold the struts into place.

  Ava looked around the area where Theresa stood. Had the girl somehow managed to bring along all the wooden struts as well?

  Theresa barely looked up. “Well, come on then.”

  Ava blinked at her in confusion. “Come on, what?”

  “Start throwing over the wood.”

  Ava stared at her, not understanding …

  The woodpile.

  She ran back toward the keep.

  When she returned, Theresa had tied a rope to one tree and secured it to her waist as a safety measure. She had started a lattice on each side of the bridge.

  She looked up at Ava. “I’m ready for the first strut.”

  Ava picked up a piece which was rectangular and flat. She looked across the chasm, drew back her arm, flung –

  The wood hit the far wall and fell into the depths.

  Frustration billowed in Ava. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean –”

  “It’s all right,” calmed Theresa. “You have more. Just try again. Remember, these first few will be the hardest to get to me. As I keep building the bridge I’ll get closer and closer to you. So it’ll get easier. You only need to throw a few this far.”

  Theresa’s words eased the fire from Ava’s mood and she nodded.

  Theresa added, “Try whirling. I find it helps.”

  Ava selected out another piece. She studied the distance to the other side. Then she whirled – whirled – released –

  The wood flew in a beautiful arc up, across, and landed near Theresa.

  Theresa smiled. “That’s perfect! I’ll start with this one. Send a few more over as you can.”

  The afternoon drifted on. Ava missed with some struts, but enough others landed that Theresa had a steady supply. The golden-haired girl developed a steady rhythm. First she would lattice the left, lattice the right, and then weave in a step.

  Lattice, lattice, step.

  Inch by inch, step by step, the bridge moved forward, extending over the chasm. Ava was impressed with how methodically Theresa worked. With her intense focus on the job before her. With how steady and solid her hands were.

  The sun was sinking low in the sky when at last Ava was able to hand Theresa the final step to weave into place. Then she offered a hand and Theresa stepped onto the bank beside her.

  Ava grinned. “It’s nice to meet you in person, Theresa.”

  Theresa nodded. “Likewise. Now, might you tell me why I’ve been summoned here?”

  Ava’s brow creased. “Summoned? By who?”

  There was a movement behind them and Magdalena was there, her long, silvery braid shining in the late afternoon sun.

  “Welcome, Theresa. I am Magdalena.” She looked out over the sturdy bridge. “You girls have done well today. Very well, indeed. Come, you must be hungry. Let us have some soup and see what we can discover.”

  Theresa nodded, her golden curls bouncing. “I would like that very much.” She looked to Ava and smiled. “You were a wonderful help with the bridge. I think we shall become fast friends.”

  Ava beamed with joy.

  She had a friend.

  * * *

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