Marissa Holsteins's Arc

Chapter 8 of 10

Morning light filled the barn. Marissa stood at the milking rig and rolled her shoulders. The machine sat waiting, its hoses coiled and cups clean. Last night she had a plan. Today she had to prove it worked. "I make the milk myself," she told Angelica. "Enough to face the king on my terms." She pulled the cups closer and reached for the switch. Angelica crossed the floor and knelt beside the machine. She was the red-haired knight who had turned on the king to run with Marissa. Now she checked each hose with careful hands. "The seals held when we fixed it," she said. "But you burned every drop breaking that wall. You're empty. This will hurt." She looked up. "I'll stay right here." Marissa fitted the cups against her body. She flipped the switch. The central body hummed. The machine pulled, slow at first, then hard. Marissa gripped the frame. Nothing came. Her chest ached. She gasped and shut her eyes. "Breathe," Angelica said. She pressed one hand flat against Marissa's back. "Think of the cows. Think of home." Marissa breathed. She thought of green fields and warm mornings. Slowly the ache changed. Warmth rose through her. A thin gold thread slid down the clear hose. Then more. The milk ran bright, brighter than any milk should be. It caught the light like liquid coin. "There," Angelica whispered. "Look at it." The hoses filled. The machine drew steady now, and Marissa fed it. She poured everything she had into the pull. Minutes passed. Her legs shook. Sweat ran down her neck. She would not stop. She thought of the king who wanted her caged. She thought of the witch who wanted her dead. She made milk until she had nothing left to give. At last she flipped the switch off. She sagged against Angelica. The glass jar under the rig held bright gold milk, nearly full. It was the largest batch she had ever made. Her whole body burned, but she laughed. "We did it," she said. "One batch. We can make more." Angelica held up the jar. Then her smile fell. She pointed at the gold surface. It quivered on its own. As they watched, the milk sank in the glass. The bright color dulled at the edges. "It's fading," Angelica said. "Same as your strength did. The power doesn't keep." Marissa stared. The milk still glowed, but weaker now. She understood. She could not store batches for weeks. The magic drained the moment it left her body. To face the king with full power, she needed the milk fresh, and she needed to reach him fast. She wiped her face and stood straight. "Then we don't wait," she said. "We make one strong batch and go. Before it dies." Angelica nodded and reached for her sword. The safe hiding was over. The road to the castle started now.