by Raquel Lyon
Piper fought and lost to hold her tongue. “I’m not a fugitive.”
The glare in Mathanway’s eyes told Piper not to argue, but her mouth refused to comply. “Who are the Assembly?”
It was Beth who answered. “They’re like a Supe government—setting the laws and stopping them from killing each other. You know the drill.”
“Well, as I haven’t broken any laws, I doubt they know about me,” Piper said. “I’ve lived in Fosswell practically all my life, and no one’s come looking for me yet.”
“Maybe they took your father instead?” Beth said. “Think about it. You would have been a baby when you crossed over, and you’re still a minor now. They can’t arrest a child. Your father, on the other hand...”
“No. I was born here...” Piper paused as her eyes briefly scanned the room. “Well, not precisely here, but you know what I mean. I have a birth certificate and everything.”
“Easily forged.”
Mathanway cleared a space on the table. “I may be able to help you discover the whereabouts of your father through a fairly simple locator spell, but then, you must leave.”
Excitement filled Piper’s chest. Finding her father was all she’d ever wanted. If this woman could do that for her, she’d be happy to leave and never come back. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”
“Quickly then. Come to me, child.” Mathanway held out her hand, palm down, revealing her two-inch-long nails. Piper took hold tentatively, afraid she’d break them. “I don’t suppose you have an item belonging to your father on your person?” the sorceress asked.
“I-I never thought to bring anything.”
“No matter. We can do it the old-fashioned way.” She picked up a dagger from the table and wiped it on her gown.
“What’s that for?” Piper asked warily.
“I need your blood.”
Piper stepped back as the woman held fast to her hand. “Why?”
“It is made from your father’s. There is no closer bond.” She pressed Piper’s hand to the tabletop and aimed the dagger. “Keep still. You wouldn’t want to lose a finger, I’m sure.”
Wincing, Piper looked away as she felt the piercing sting of the dagger’s blade. When she turned back, blood was dripping from the cut in her fingertip. Mathanway squeezed it into a goblet, added a pinch of brown powder, three drops of a pink liquid, a splash of elderflower wine, and stirred.
“Close your eyes,” she said.
Piper obliged and felt some kind of oil being smeared across her eyelids.
“Keep them closed,” Beth whispered as the goblet was placed in her hands.
“Think of your father,” Mathanway said, “and of the blood that connects you. Feel his presence within you. Are you doing that?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent.” She paused, before continuing in a slow, deep tone, “Drink of thine own to reveal the unknown.”
“Um...”
Beth nudged her in the side. “Drink the potion, Piper.”
Piper raised the goblet to her lips and hesitated. The liquid smelled like Christmas and old ladies. She grimaced.
“It’s only nutmeg and rose oil. It won’t kill you,” Beth said. “Drink up before it loses its potency.”
Piper steeled herself before downing the contents in one go.
She swayed as the liquid entered her stomach, and grabbed at the table for support as bright orange and yellow hues swam beneath her eyelids.
“Focus, child,” Mathanway’s voice ordered.
In the absence of any object to focus on, Piper homed in on the colours.
All at once, her body stiffened as the lights glared brighter and dark shapes began to form within them. Her eyeballs burned as though they were being branded, but she could do nothing to alleviate the pain. She was paralysed to the spot. Then, as the images sharpened, she saw a room much like Lovell Towers’ cellar, but this one was filled with opulent furniture, and she was seeing the room through her father’s eyes as he paced up and down it.
Somewhere in the distance, she heard Beth firing questions at her. “Can you see him? Where is he? Is there anyone else there? Make sure you take in every detail. You won’t have much time.”
Piper blanked out Beth’s voice and tried to concentrate on her surroundings. She had walked through a door and was feeling angry without knowing why. The next thing she knew, another door burst open before her and a circle of faces turned to look at her. She took a step forward, but was immediately pulled back as if a spring was attached to the small of her back and had reached full stretch. The room before her collapsed in on itself and disappeared in a flash of orange.
“You can open your eyes now,” Beth said, patting her face.
Piper prised her eyes open. “This time, I really am going to puke,” she said.
“The effects will wear off in a second.” Beth pulled out a chair. “Sit down and tell us what you saw. Did you find out where he is?”
“I-I didn’t see him. I-I think I was him.”
“That’s excellent. Where were you?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t have much chance to see anything. It was... well... It was like a film set, one of those Roman classics.”
“Okay. What else?”
“The smell. Sulphur, I think.”
“Good, and...?”
Mathanway pressed a small book into Beth’s hand. “It is time for you to leave. The child can enlighten you with the details on your journey home. This will help. Goodbye,” she said dismissively.
Chapter Twenty
SOPHIE WAS IN THE KITCHEN preparing the evening meal when they arrived back at Lovell Towers. Beth placed the stool back into position and sat down to read Mathanway’s book: 169 Diverse Habitats.
“Let’s see what this baby says, shall we?” she said.
Piper glanced through the kitchen window, and her pulse quickened as she noted the sun had already begun to set. She hoped she hadn’t missed Lambert’s visit, since she’d done nothing but think about him since he’d vanished from her sight the previous evening. Beth was nice enough, but her heart was in the wrong place. It was as if she only cared about increasing her magical abilities. Throughout their journey home, all she’d talked about was expanding her knowledge of the different dimensions and learning how to reveal auras, in order to draw her own conclusions in future. Her power-hungry attitude made Piper feel like more of a project than a friend. Lambert, on the other hand, Piper felt a connection with—a kindred spirit whose troubles she could relate to, and someone who she had a niggling feeling held answers.
Keeping her voice even, so as not to raise suspicion, she said, “Seeing as I’ve told you everything I saw, do you mind if you work on it while I take five? I’d like to get out of these clothes and take a shower.”
Halting Beth’s objection, Sophie answered, “Good idea. Dinner won’t be ready for at least an hour,” she said. “Take as long as you need.”
The exhaustion of the day threatened to send Piper to dreamland before she reached her third-floor bedroom, but her desire to see Lambert again propelled her feet to keep moving. She threw the door wide with anticipation, but then her heart fell. He wasn’t there. Was she too late? She glanced at the rainbow hues lighting the sky outside the window. It wasn’t yet dark. If he’d been and gone already, it had been a very short visit this time.
As she walked over to the box, she hoped he hadn’t been upset or angry to find her absent again. She stroked her finger over the top of it, and cursed her lack of fitness. If she’d walked faster on their journey over the fields, she’d have made it back in time. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“What for?” The voice was so close it whispered through a tendril of her hair and tickled the back of her neck. She spun around and was met by Lambert’s lopsided grin.
“I thought I’d missed you,” she said, quickly turning from his too-close stare and finding herself trapped between him and the dressing table.
“And the thought saddene
d you?” Once more his breath rippled over her skin and a scent of earth and leaves permeated the air.
“Yes.” Her skin prickled as goosebumps rose on her arms. Why did she have goosebumps? She wasn’t cold. “But only because we need to talk,” she added quickly.
“That is all I have been trying to do since we met.”
“I know, and I’m sorry for that, too,” she said, surveying her father’s artefacts, most of which would not have looked out of place in her vision. Was it possible her father was in the land they hailed from? “I’m ready to listen.”
She felt him leave her side and turned to find him sitting on the bed.
“When we were last together, you asked about my home,” he said, leaning back leisurely on his elbows.
“Yes. Tell me about it, please.”
“I have told you much already. What is it you need to know?”
“Well... for instance... Where is it?”
“A humble cottage, on the edge of the big city.” He beamed satisfactorily.
“No. Not your house. I meant your land... Chimmeris.” Piper picked up the hunting knife. “Where this is from.” And where my father might be.
His smile faded into a blank expression and his brow furrowed as he contemplated her question.
Was it such a hard question to answer? Piper replaced the knife, growing impatient. “Okay, I’ll start. Is Chimmeris in the Sixth?”
“Of course it is. Where else would it be?”
Piper had let most of Beth’s prattling run past her on their long walk back, but she’d heard enough to learn there were thirteen dimensions in total. “I don’t know. One of the other twelve, maybe. I only learned about this stuff today.”
“Your schooling does not teach you dimensional geography?”
She let out a small laugh. “No. Does yours?”
“It did.” His eyes glazed, clearly remembering his youth.
“Then you know where you are now?”
He sat up and stared at her feet as he answered. “No. I will admit it was never one of my favourite subjects, and one I often skipped to go boar racing.”
“Boar racing?”
His eyes travelled slowly up her legs. “Have you never tried it? Terrific fun.”
“We prefer to race horses here.”
“Ah, the noble beast.”
Piper folded her arms under his scrutiny, finding his appraisal of her clothing both unnerving and rude. “Can we get back to the subject before we run out of time? You are no longer in the Sixth, Lambert.” Piper’s words got his attention, and his eyes snapped to hers. She held his gaze as she said, “This is the Third.”
Lambert jumped to standing and gripped her shoulders a tad too tightly. If he pressed any harder, she would surely bruise. “Did you say the Third?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Yes.”
“Do you know what this means?”
“Yes. You’ve crossed dimensions and, according to a rather disgruntled sorceress I met today, are in trouble with the law.”
“Who cares about laws?” To Piper’s relief, he let her go and began turning on the spot, laughing while intermittently ruffling his hair and flashing incredulous looks at her. “I am in the Third? Truthfully?”
“I said so, didn’t I?” Piper wondered why he was suddenly so happy to be so far from home.
“Rixton really came through,” he said. “I do not know how he did it, but if I am ever free from my predicament, I shall owe him a great debt. This far exceeds our childhood vow to always have each other’s backs.”
“Who’s Rixton?”
“My friend. You met him, remember?”
“The guy with the top hat?”
He nodded. “He succeeded where I failed. Piper, he brought me to my father.”
“Your father’s here? Where?”
“That, I do not know. I may not even be in the correct realm, although for Rixton to risk the journey, one would presume he would have procured the relevant information. Regardless, I am closer than I ever thought possible.”
“Closer than I am, that’s for sure.”
“I do not understand.”
“I’m also looking for my father. He disappeared over six months ago, but unlike you, I was never told where he went.”
“How coincidental. You have no clues at all?”
“Just one. A note I found. It was addressed to a woman who most definitely is not my mother.”
“And you suspect an indiscretion?”
“That’s one way of putting it, yes.”
“What did the note say?”
Piper began rooting through the pockets in her clothes. “I have it here somewhere,” she said, pulling out random items and throwing them on the bed.
Lambert picked up a discarded coin and studied it curiously, turning it between his fingers as she searched. “Interesting currency,” he mused.
“I can’t find it. Great. The only clue I have and I’ve lost it. All I can find are these useless things.”
Lambert laid his hand on Piper’s arm as she was about to put the old letters back into her jeans. “Wait. What are they?” he said.
“These? Nothing. Some old letters.”
“Let me see.”
“Why?”
Lambert snatched at the papers. He let the letters drop to the bed, his interest lying purely with the pencil rubbing. “I do not believe it. This is it. This is the key.”
“What key?”
“My key.”
“Your key?”
“Yes. The key to my prison. The key I need to get out.”
“How can you be sure?”
“All keys are unique. See this pattern here?” He pointed to the top of the image. “It matches the carvings on my box.”
Piper studied the swirls, glancing between the paper and the box.
“Have you got it?” he asked hopefully.
“Got it? No. Why would I have it?”
“You have a picture of it. You must have seen it.”
“I haven’t.”
His face contorted with agitation. “You must have. You have it. I know you have it. This is why I was sent to you.”
“You’re wrong.”
“I think not. I need that key, Piper. Give it to me.”
“Look. Calm down. I haven’t got the... your key. I’ve never even seen it, but I think it was in the envelope with this letter.” She grabbed the first letter from the bed.
Lambert snatched the paper from her hand, and his eyes flicked from side to side as he read it. “Where did you get this?”
“I found it.”
“Where?”
“At the shop. It came in a collection of items my father acquired before he disappeared.” She studied his face. “What’s wrong?”
“This letter was sent to my father.” He pointed to the name at the top. “See. His name is right there. Rodigan.”
“Rodigan is your father?”
“Yes. And Aemylia is our queen’s name.”
“Why would she be writing to your dad?”
He scanned the words again. “A very good question considering she only recently received her crown. The name must be a coincidence; otherwise it does not make sense.”
“Why not?”
“My father was sent on his mission before I was born, before the queen came to our land. It is not possible they even met.”
“I used to think a lot of things weren’t possible. Things change.”
Chapter Twenty-One
THE LETTER FLUTTERED TO THE ground as Lambert faded from sight. “Wait!” Piper shouted. But it was no use. He was already gone.
She placed the letters in the bedside drawer and sank onto the bed, wondering why he hadn’t warned her of his imminent departure. He’d always known when he had to leave. Why had this time been different? She could only deduce that he’d been caught up in the moment and hadn’t realised he was out of time.
Lying back against the pillow, she stare
d at the ceiling and cursed his imprisonment. They had so much to talk about, and she had so many questions to ask. Now he was gone for another day.
Her hand searched for the pencil rubbing, and she brought it into view as she thought about everything Lambert had said. If he were free from the box’s custody, she could spend more time with him, and they might actually be able to have a conversation lasting longer than ten minutes.
She turned onto her side and stared at the photo she’d placed on the nightstand. Her father’s eyes stared back at her. She picked up the frame. “So many secrets,” she said to it.
As she made to put the photo down, her finger snagged on the clip securing the back of the frame, and it nicked her skin. The clip should have been flat, but instead, it bent upwards, straining against the wood. She pressed it to squeeze it more securely, but the wood was warped and bulging at the back, and the clip wouldn’t flatten. Deciding that it might fit better if she turned the back around until she could afford to buy a new one, she sat up to slide the clip to the side. The back sprang off, and the contents spilled onto the bed.
Piper blinked, unable to believe her eyes. There, lying next to her father’s face, were more familiar folds of grainy parchment. She held her breath and opened them out. A total of four letters had been concealed in the small space. She settled back down to read.
My Darling Rodigan,
You cannot know how I long to see your sweet face again, how much I crave your touch. Every night, I relive our evenings in Buttermead Pasture, sharing our love under the stars. Eighteen years feels like a prison sentence, but four of them have already passed, and I see you every time I look into the eyes of our son. I pray for the day we can be together again.
I know how hungry you must be for news, and if this letter finds its way to you, I want you to know that Bertie grows stronger each day. He has your smile and your courage. Only yesterday, I discovered he had been swimming in the Blue Lake. Fortunately, he came to no harm, but it is my greatest wish that you could be here to guide him and keep him from further mischief. I love him too much to chastise him. He needs his father, as do I.
If I could, I would wrap my heart in this letter and send it to you, but you know you already possess it.