“Where is Dad? I’ll fill you all in together,” she said, rushing along, Haf fluttering anxiously behind her.
Grandmother followed Octavia, shouting at her retreating back. “They are in the hot-house.”
Octavia burst into the hot-house at the back of the castle. Her father, his black hair standing up in tufts, looked up in shock.
“Octavia!” he shouted, rushing over to grab her in a great bear hug. Taking a moment to breathe in his familiar, comforting, earthy scent, she closed her eyes and sagged against him.
He gently released her. “Where is your mother?” he asked, looking behind her for the others.
“She’s fine, or she will be when we get the cure back to Otto – she was hurt using the dust and has lost hope which has had a dangerous effect on Fairy Land. If we don’t get her believing again, and soon, Nesrin will take over,” Octavia explained, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush.
Dad nodded grimly. “I should’ve been here; your mother shouldn’t have had to deal with this alone.” He clutched the edge of the work bench.
“You were getting the other flower; it was important you did so – now we have all we need,” Octavia reassured him.
A bark and running feet sounded down the corridor.
“We were in the kitchen!” Aunt Anastasia said breathlessly as she skidded into the hot-house; grasping the door frame, she looked around for her daughters. Her husband ploughed into the back of her, he too frantically searching the room. Bronwen pranced in behind them and headed straight for Octavia.
Octavia’s stomach plummeted into her feet, her hands becoming clammy at the thought of the news she still had to impart. Needing a minute to compose herself, she buried her face in Bronwen’s fur and took a few deep breaths.
Straightening, she looked into her aunt’s eyes, and took another deep breath. “Aunt Ana, Uncle Piers… Felicity, Martha and Beatrice are still in Fairy Land. Martha and Felicity are looking after Mum….” She trailed off.
“And Beatrice?” Uncle Piers asked, raking a trembling hand through his chestnut hair.
“Nesrin took her. She has bewitched her—”
Octavia broke off as Aunt Anastasia gave a strangled cry and sank to her knees. Uncle Piers put a hand to his mouth in horror and bent to clutch his wife, who was weeping, great racking sobs shaking her slim frame.
“We have to restore Queen Rhosyn’s power by making the cure; that’s the only way we can make Mum believe again,” Octavia said earnestly. “If the Key Keeper believes, Fairy Land will become strong and healthy and Queen Rhosyn will become powerful again. She will not be able to beat Nesrin until she is at full power.” She knelt next to her aunt, whose sorrow pulsed off her in waves.
Great-Aunt Clara, who had entered the room silently, bustled over. “Come on, Ana.” She helped her niece to her feet and led her over to a battered sofa in the corner. Settling her, she announced, “We need tea!”
Grandmother, who had been standing by the door, left to find Mrs Fawcett. Octavia took a deep breath and prepared herself for a long night.
She introduced Haf and Ferren to her family. Haf went to help Dad and Uncle Piers work on the cure, poring over the parchment and reading the instructions in her tinkling little voice. Octavia, feeling helpless, sat next to her aunt, who clutched a full cup of tea for warmth and comfort. Bronwen padded over and laid her head in Aunt Anastasia’s lap, her big, sorrowful eyes gazing up at her.
Grandmother looked worriedly at her daughter. “Ana, the quicker we create the cure, the quicker we can get Otto and Beatrice back,” she told her gently.
“Bea,” moaned Aunt Anastasia. She looked at Octavia. “Is that true? Can we get her back?”
“Yes, absolutely – we will not stop until the Bloom family is back together again!” Octavia told her confidently.
Aunt Anastasia took a deep breath before taking a sip of her tea. Firmly, she placed the cup onto the side table and, giving Bronwen a pat, stood with a little wobble and walked over to join her husband.
Great-Aunt Clara nodded proudly. “We Bloom girls are a strong bunch – Beatrice will be fine,” she said, handing Rowan a biscuit. He split it in half and offered it to Ferren. Ferren nibbled gratefully and stared around the glass-panelled room, taking in her first sights of the human world.
“A mouse – I should’ve guessed that would be your companion. Creeping around at night and getting up to all sorts of mischief. Suits you perfectly.” Grandmother sniffed, though a slight smile was playing around her lips.
Octavia exchanged a smile with Ferren. Yes, she was indeed perfect. She stroked the tiny mouse with affection. An overwhelming tiredness came over her; she looked at the full moon, which had dropped low in the sky, the first vestiges of dawn starting to colour the sky. Cushioning her head on her arm, she watched as Haf, her father, aunt and uncle stewed the petals of the seven flowers in different vats, mesmerised by the billowing, coloured smoke and sated by the intoxicating aromas they gave off.
“You won’t win, you know,” said Nesrin idly.
She sat on her silver throne, Beatrice at her side. Octavia was trapped in a bubble which hovered in Nesrin’s roofless hall. Nesrin used her staff to gently bounce the bubble up and down, causing Octavia to lose her balance. Falling to her knees, she clawed at the bubble until it popped; heavily, she fell the few feet to the floor and Nesrin cackled mercilessly.
“You’re wrong!” Furious, Octavia staggered to her feet, pushing her copper braids out of her face and glaring at Nesrin, who flicked her staff at her, an amused smile on her haughty face. Octavia was forced to dance out of the way of mini lightning bolts as they seared her leather shoes.
Out of breath, she darted behind a black onyx pillar.
“We’re coming for you, Bea, but you have to fight her!” she called. “Fight! Figh…! Fi…!”
“It’s done!”
Dad’s jubilant voice awoke Octavia. The sun had come up and its watery light was starting to fill the room. Octavia, her heart in her mouth, was disorientated. She stared around the room and met Haf’s worried gaze.
“The Arianthe flower’s fumes can cause vivid dreams. Are you all right?” the fairy asked her.
Octavia nodded slowly. Just a dream – or was it? Shaking her head to clear the last of the worrying visions, she got to her feet and stretched, walking over to Dad. Great-Aunt Clara snored noisily in a patched-up armchair in the corner. Rowan rolled his squirrel eyes and went back to licking his tail.
Grandmother put out her arm and gave Octavia a brief hug as she passed by; surprised, Octavia met her eyes. Seeing pride and admiration in their aged gaze, she smiled, feeling close to her grandmother for the first time.
Seven vials stood on the work bench, each a differing colour of the rainbow. Her father stood next to them, beaming, sweat glistening on his brow.
“Well done,” tinkled Haf. “Now comes the tricky part: all seven must be poured at the same time. It must be done correctly, or it will not work at all,” she added warningly.
Octavia looked around and counted. “Seven vials, seven people,” she mused. “Well, one fairy,” she corrected herself, with a smile at Haf.
Dad looked at Grandmother. “You’d better wake Clara; we need all hands on deck for this,” he said, rolling up his sleeves.
Grandmother bustled over to Great-Aunt Clara, whilst Dad decided who would have which flower vial.
“Red Fire Lily for you, Ana; Orange Fire Poppy for you, Piers; Evelyn, you can take the Yellow Rothchild’s Slipper Orchid; Clara” – who sleepily rubbed her eyes and yawned – “you can take the Green Jade Vine; Haf, can you manage the Blue Kadupul Flower? And I’ll take the Indigo Corpse Flower.” He looked at Octavia seriously. “Which leaves you with the Violet Arianthe Flower – which is only fitting, I think.”
Octavia looked at the violet liquid swirling in the glass vial, her fingers tingling again.
“Right. Lift your vials, and on the count of three, pour it into the bowl,�
� Dad instructed, looking around to make sure everyone agreed. Seeing the nods, he picked up his vial and watched whilst everyone followed suit. Haf struggled with hers; her wings fluttering furiously, she only just managed to pick up the vial in her arms.
“One, two, three,” Dad counted, and in unison everyone poured their liquid into the crystal bowl.
The colours swirled together, forming a rainbow. Following the instructions, Dad stirred it seven times clockwise and seven times anticlockwise. As the last drop dripped off the ladle and back into the bowl, the mixture had turned golden. The heady aroma of a meadow filled the hot-house and mingled with the scents already coming from the flowers and plants in the room.
Everyone stared into the bowl, and an overwhelming sense of relief came over Octavia. Dad hastened to ladle the mixture into glass bottles; handing one to Octavia, he gave her a swift hug.
“Take this to your mother and cure Otto,” he told her. “We’ll keep the rest of the cure safe for any future boy babies. Evelyn?” He gave the other bottles to Grandmother, who took them over to a locked glass cabinet.
Octavia placed her bottle into her tunic pocket along with Ferren. “Great-Aunt Clara, will you help me reveal the door?” she asked. “I only managed to do it last time with Felicity’s help.”
Great-Aunt Clara nodded. “Of course – you are not yet ten. Felicity being a future Guardian must have boosted your Key Keeper power. When you reach ten, all you will need to do is swipe your hand across the skirting board and it will be revealed,” she explained, “but I’ll do it this time.” She led the way to the attic, Rowan sitting on her shoulder like a pirate’s parrot. The others followed behind. The sun was fully up now and blazed through the arched stone windows, warming the usually cold passageways.
Uncle Piers and Aunt Anastasia were arguing quietly at the back.
“I want to go through with Octavia and help rescue Beatrice,” Aunt Anastasia was whispering vehemently.
“I can’t lose you too, Ana!” Uncle Piers was adamant.
Haf piped up squeakily, “I am sorry, but Queen Rhosyn has asked me to convey that Octavia alone should come back through; Nesrin will be monitoring the toadstool ring, on the lookout for any Fairy Door activity, and the fewer humans that come through, the less she will hopefully notice.” She looked apologetically at Aunt Anastasia, who stopped walking and began sobbing quietly. Uncle Piers wrapped his arms around her.
“I have faith in Octavia,” Grandmother said quietly as they grouped in the centre of the attic. Standing in the warm pool of sunlight, she looked deep into her granddaughter’s surprised eyes. “Get the cure to your mother; make her believe again.”
Octavia gave a determined nod and looked at Great-Aunt Clara, who walked over to the skirting board. She bent stiffly and ran her hand over the old wood. Everyone watched as the Fairy Door slowly solidified once again – gleaming golden still, but the flowers around it now wilted and brown. Great-Aunt Clara exchanged a worried look with Grandmother, who placed a comforting hand on Aunt Anastasia’s back.
“Be safe, my daughter,” Dad whispered.
“I will. I’ll bring them all back – I promise.” Octavia looked into her aunt’s sad eyes as she said the last part. Aunt Anastasia gave a thin smile and clutched Uncle Piers.
Octavia looked at her family in turn, committing their faces to memory. From underneath her tunic, she pulled out the vine necklace and retrieved the tiny key. On a deep breath, she inserted it into the lock, and with an almost imperceptible click the miniature door swung open. She held out her hand, and Haf stepped onto it.
Prepared this time, Octavia welcomed the bubble-like sensation, willing herself into Fairy Land.
Chapter Thirteen
Best-Laid Plans
Poised for attack, Octavia scanned the meadow. She stepped out from the Fairy Ring and looked at Haf, who pointed at the entrance to Rhosyn’s Woods. Aurus waited there, his golden coat gleaming in the dappled sunlight.
“Watch out!” he shouted as a dark shape swooped from the sky. Octavia put her hands up and ducked. Taran cawed in frustration and wheeled around to dive again, thunder rolling despite the cloudless sky.
Aurus came bounding out of the wood. “Get on!” he shouted, and Octavia grabbed his thick fur, swinging herself onto his back. She clasped Haf’s hand, and the fairy slid gratefully behind her onto Aurus’ broad back. He took off, racing into Rhosyn’s Woods.
Taran beat his wings in the air, thunder booming with every flap as he was repelled by Queen Rhosyn’s magic boundary.
“I am not sure how long the defences will last; we need to keep going!” Aurus shouted as he thundered through the mossy tracks, throwing up pieces of dirt in his wake, and over the bridge; bubbles popped around them as the Stream of Dreams passed underneath.
They exited the wood at a run and nearly knocked over Feargal, who was waiting with a transportation bubble. Octavia slid from Aurus’ back on shaky legs and patted his pelt in thanks.
Breathing heavily, Aurus said, “You will be safe now.” He bowed his majestic head and trotted off down the hill toward the castle to the guard’s entrance.
“Your carriage, milady,” Feargal said sarcastically with a quirky little bow. His eyes twinkled mischievously as Octavia let out a shout of laughter, still buoyed up on adrenaline.
“Oh, it’s good to be back,” she told him as she entered the bubble and sat, Haf following with a censorious look at Feargal.
Checking that Ferren and the cure were still safe, Octavia watched as the bubble approached the castle. This was it. What she had set out to do was finally in her grasp; it all rested on the tiny crystal bottle in her pocket.
The bubble landed on the platform with a couple of gentle bounces. Evony was once again waiting to greet Octavia, this time with Felicity anxiously standing beside her. As soon as Octavia disembarked, Felicity ran over.
“Tavi, you made it back! Do you have the cure?” she asked in a rush, hugging her so tightly that Ferren squeaked indignantly.
“Careful!” Octavia said with a laugh. She put her hand in her pocket and retrieved the bottle, while Ferren ran up her arm to sit on her shoulder. “We only narrowly made it back – Taran was waiting for us!”
Evony stepped forward. “Nesrin will indeed do all she can to stop you, but well done, Key Keeper; you have passed your quest.” She bowed low with respect. “Now, let’s go to your mother.”
Mum was propped up in bed, gently having her hair brushed by Martha. She had more colour in her cheeks, and her eyes lit up when Octavia rushed in.
“Mum, I have it – I have the cure!” She thrust the bottle into her mother’s hand. Mum gazed at the golden liquid and one tear rolled slowly down her cheek. She clutched at Octavia’s hand.
“Oh, my precious, clever girl.”
“I couldn’t have done it without the others. We are a great team, we Bloom girls!” Octavia smiled at Felicity and Martha proudly. Felicity smiled back, but Martha, her features pale, only nodded sadly.
“Here, take it to Hevva – she will administer it to Otto.” Mum handed the bottle back to Octavia and squeezed her hand.
Octavia linked her arm with Felicity’s, and together they walked back down the stairs to Otto’s room. Aloysius was, surprisingly, alert and standing to attention; he eyed them beadily as they made to walk past him.
“None may pass without the queen’s consent,” he growled, placing his spear in front of the door.
Hevva opened the door and glared at the badger. “What’s all this nonsense? I told you to let the Key Keeper in when she returns,” she admonished.
“Just doing my duty,” he huffed, lowering the spear and letting the girls pass by.
Octavia stared at Otto, who still lay peacefully on the bed. Wordlessly, she handed the bottle to Hevva, who inspected it closely. The gold liquid swirled, gleaming in the torchlight. Satisfied, Hevva walked over to the bedside and removed two crystals. Immediately, the sleep mist cleared.
Oct
avia watched in wonder as her brother slowly opened his violet-blue eyes and looked around the room. His eyes locked with hers and he grinned.
“Tavi, you came!” he said, his voice husky.
“Of course! You’re our brother – we couldn’t leave you here!” Octavia told him, grinning back.
Felicity stepped to Octavia’s side. “I’m Felicity,” she told Otto with a shy smile.
“Hi, Fliss,” he replied happily, already using her nickname.
“Here, young man: take your medicine.” Hevva sat him up and held the vial to his lips.
Otto sniffed it apprehensively, but gamely took a huge gulp. He immediately began to glow; rainbow colours arced from his skin, lighting him from within. He shuddered once, twice, then lay still. The glow receded until he was back to his normal self, copper curls falling haphazardly across his brow and mischievous eyes twinkling.
“Can I go home now?” he asked simply. Octavia and Felicity rushed across the room to jump on the bed. They crushed him in an exuberant hug.
“Gently, girls!” Hevva tutted, but Otto was laughing uproariously and hugging them back with glee.
“What’s all this noise?” a breathless voice asked from the doorway. All three turned to see their mother clutching at the doorway for support, tears of happiness running down her face. Pan swooped through the doorway and whooped happily as he saw the three children.
“What are you doing out of bed? You do not have your full strength back yet!” Hevva rushed over to support Mum to the rocking chair.
“I feel wonderful.” Mum sniffled, gazing at Otto, her eyes drinking in the sight of him.
“Hmm… you do look better,” Hevva conceded, passing her a cup. “Drink this. It will finish your healing process.”
Mum sipped the drink, and took several moments to gaze at the three children together and safe. Her eyes were sparkling again and her cheeks had a healthy glow.
Octavia Bloom and the Missing Key (Through The Fairy Door Book 1) Page 11