Thronegarden

by Andrew Dickerson

  “You’re right,” Damselfly agreed.

  “About brunch?” Buttontail questioned.

  “No, about exploring, there is nowhere interesting to go anyway. We’re not even allowed out of the royal apartments on our own.”

  “I should think not,” Buttontail lectured.

  “Consider all the terrifying things that lurk outside those doors.” Buttontail’s two front teeth chattered nervously.

  “How will we ever know what is outside if we never go?”

  “I suppose we could visit the kitchens,” Buttontail dreamed. “Where they make all the pies, biscuits, stews, soups, soufflés, cakes…”

  While Buttontail continued his litany of delicious foods, Damselfly dreamed of going on an adventure like the characters in Old Nana’s stories. Unfortunately, nothing exciting ever happened to her and with time frozen she could not even look forward to growing up or having a baby brother or sister.

  “Sorry, I’m late.” Palen burst through the door making Buttons momentarily disappear under the bed in surprise. “There are a great many things happening in the castle today, but that is no excuse to delay learning.”

  Palen was a short pale man with large glasses that magnified his weak green eyes. He had too short legs, which worked rapidly to make up for the deficiency in height, and a large head, which seemed about to crush his body at any second.

  “Today we will be studying the proper dining etiquette for a royal banquet.”

  “Did someone say dining and banquet?” Buttontail hastened from under the bed, his ears pricked up in anticipation.

  “I was hoping to learn more about the Garden Gate,” Damselfly interjected.

  “That is out of the question,” the tutor replied.

  “Isn’t my education supposed to teach me how to rule the kingdom?” Damselfly asked.

  “Yes, of course but…”

  “Isn’t the Garden Gate an important part of that kingdom?”

  “Yes, though the difference between a soup spoon and a dessert spoon could also be seen as important,” Palen argued feebly.

  “I love dessert.” Buttontail drooled.

  “Please, Palen, just this once,” the princess begged.

  “Oh, all right.” The scholar surrendered. “It is rather interesting.”

  “Does it involve any feasts, picnics or repasts?” Buttontail posed.

  “Please stop talking about food for one moment, Buttons, so we can learn about the Garden Gate.” Damselfly hugged her gluttonous companion.

  “I swear not to say another word though I cannot speak for my stomach.” Buttontail grinned.

  While Damselfly and Buttontail sat attentively on the princess’s bed, Palen adjusted his glasses carefully upon his nose and began his lesson.

  “In centuries past, Fable was linked by meandering waterways including fast-flowing rivers and huge lakes. Boats were the main source of transport; they allowed people from all regions to communicate and trade. When the rivers started running dry, boats became stranded or trapped in areas where the water level remained deep enough. This meant that certain parts of Fable were essentially isolated with little or no contact with the rest of the world. Well, this problem was so universal that it was agreed something had to be done. Lots of voices believed that magic could be the solution although those that understand the limitations of alchemy know that would be impossible. Bakka is the greatest smith who ever lived. He was commissioned to build a gate that would connect everyone in Fable easily and safely.”

  “Is Bakka still alive?” Damselfly queried.

  “No one knows,” Palen answered. “No one has seen him for decades, and if he were still alive, he would be older than any person who lived before.”

  Damselfly was not satisfied with this answer; however, she did not want to interrupt again so decided to keep quiet.

  “Bakka created the Garden Gate, a magical portal that allows travel from one garden to another almost instantly,” Palen concluded.

  “That’s not quite true,” Damselfly raised. “You cannot get to the Evergarden.”

  “Very good, princess,” the tutor remarked. “Recently, it was necessary to build a prison for those responsible for terrible crimes. These reprobates were to be banished and that resulted in the Evergarden being removed from the network. It means that anyone exiled to the Evergarden cannot leave.”

  “Is there really no way out of the Evergarden?” Damselfly asked.

  “No, it is impossible,” Palen stated. “A terrible place it is too and a well-deserved punishment for those that commit such awful crimes.”

  Palen would not be distracted further. He returned to his planned lesson of dining etiquette although Damselfly was no longer paying attention. She was thinking about the gardens beyond the gate, whether Bakka was still alive and if the Fairy King could possibly return from Evergarden.

  After a long study session, Damselfly and Buttontail took the chance to play together. Despite the greedy rabbit’s voracious appetite, he could still run extremely fast, with powerful back legs that left Damselfly far behind. The princess had begun to change her strategy, so instead of trying to catch her friend in a straight foot race, she would hide and burst out at him when he least expected it. Buttontail hated this game because he was terrified of everything. It would take him three circuits around the bedroom before he realised that no one was chasing him and even then, his foot pounded the ground anxiously. On this day the game became so competitive that Buttontail burst out of the bedroom and fled down the corridor. Damselfly, caught up in their fun, charged after him, crying out with reckless abandon as she chased Buttontail down the long corridor.

  “What is going on out here?” Orion demanded.

  “We were just playing.” Damselfly looked glumly at her shoes.

  “Your mother is not feeling well and she does not need to be disturbed by you two carrying on like savages,” the sorcerer scolded.

  “Damselfly.” A weak voice broke the tension.

  Striding confidently past Orion, the young princess entered her mother’s room; it was dark inside with the curtains drawn and a suffocating humidity. Damselfly climbed up on her parent’s bed to get a better look at her mother; even in the darkness she could see that the queen was looking unwell.

  “What is wrong, Mother?” the princess enquired.

  “I am just feeling a little under the weather, that is all,” Queen Etherelle stated although her words were weak and unconvincing.

  “Should I get Skowl to make you some soup like you did when I was sick?” Damselfly asked.

  “I would really love some soup.” Buttontail licked his lips enthusiastically.

  Queen Etherelle laughed although it was not a joyous sound.

  “I am glad you have a new friend. At least I was able to give you that.”

  “We’re going to have lots of adventures together,” Damselfly informed.

  “I bet you are,” the queen agreed.

  “You can come too,” Damselfly encouraged. “Buttons is afraid of his own shadow and all he ever talks about is food, so I will need another person to be brave who can think about something other than their stomach.”

  “Rude,” Buttontail remarked, placing his paws on his hips.

  “What do you say, Mother?

  Would you like to explore with us?” Damselfly posed.

  Queen Etherelle did not answer immediately. Instead, she seemed to whisper so low that neither of them could understand her words. Damselfly crept towards the head of the bed while Buttons covered his face in dread.

  Damselfly knew her mother was trying to communicate with her though she could not make out the message. They had played games before whispering to one another and the princess still believed this was a game. She did not share Buttontail’s premonition of disaster until the last moment when she finally understood her mother’s desperate pleadings.

  “Get Orion.”

  Damselfly screamed heartily as she watched her mother slip away
from her and it was only when the sorcerer arrived that she was parceled out of the room and taken away by Old Nana.

  “What is wrong with Mother?” the princess wailed.

  “I don’t know but she is in the best hands.” Old Nana attempted to reassure her as they headed back towards Damselfly’s bedroom.

  “It’s OK.” Damselfly suddenly stopped. “No one can die, can they, not with time stopped.”

  “I’m sure you’re right and the queen will be well soon enough,” Old Nana prophesied.

  “When she is better, then we will have our adventure,” Damselfly announced.

  Damselfly lay awake in her bed thinking of everything that had happened lately; her mother was still extremely unwell, and the physician, Garland, had not been able to offer any remedy. Only Orion had seemed to offer any comfort, spending most hours tending the queen. Damselfly had fortified herself with the knowledge that without time there was no night or day, no new life or death. Her mother could not die because it was not her time; it was no time at all. This mantra that Damselfly repeated to avoid despair was beginning to grow thin. She remembered her uncle Abeldine slowly losing his mind and eventually being isolated. Perhaps her mother would not die but Damselfly might lose her anyway. The princess had not seen her father since her birthday celebration. Every time she asked about him or her mother, she was offered false smiles and insulting reassurances that all was fine. Even Old Nana, who had always been honest with her before, became reticent, refusing to tell her stories or offer any comment on the current situation beyond what was already known. Damselfly could not sleep with her world in such disarray. They continually refused to let her see the queen, yet the princess would not allow them to hide the truth any longer. Slipping out of bed, Damselfly crept across the room, careful not to disturb the sleeping forms of Buttontail and Old Nana. Opening the bedroom door, Damselfly almost tripped over Trigger the Dalmatian who had obviously been placed there as a guardian. Whether he was stopping anyone going into Damselfly’s room or making sure no one came out was impossible to tell. Fortunately, the fearsome hound had one distinct weakness: he adored Damselfly and although he raised half an eye lid at the disturbance, the princess was able to stroke him back into a deep slumber. Stepping over Trigger, Damselfly snuck down the empty corridor towards her mother’s room. She was surprised to find no further sentries or barriers and confidently went to open the door only to discover it had been locked.

  Why would someone lock her mother’s door?

  Damselfly knew that she needed a key and there was only one person she knew who would have it in his possession. When Orion first arrived with his twin sister, Luyna, everyone was excited that two sorcerers had come to Thronegarden. Damselfly had taken an instant dislike to the magician who watched her with dark eyes and remained as shrouded in mystery as much as his red cape. Stealing the key from Orion would be difficult; however, Damselfly was not about to give up. She could not dismiss the feeling that her mother was being held prisoner and if she could just see her everything would be all right. Voices cut through Damselfly’s inner turmoil; they were low but the words were spoken in an urgent tone, which allowed them to travel. Creeping closer, the princess recognised the voices as belonging to Luyna and Orion. Staying protectively within the shadows, she listened to the twins arguing.

  “Whatever I do she still grows weaker,” Orion stated.

  “You should let me help you,” Luyna offered. “Why must the queen’s health be your sole responsibility?”

  “I have always been better at the healing arts,” Orion countered.

  “I can help, if you only give me the key.”

  Damselfly’s heart began pounding as she realised that Luyna wanted the same thing she did, the key to her mother’s room.

  “I do not see how you could help her. She may be beyond anyone’s help,” Orion prophesied.

  “Do not despair, brother. She is not lost yet,” Luyna comforted.

  Damselfly risked a glance from her hiding place and caught a glimpse of the siblings embracing stiffly. Despite their close origins, they appeared so completely opposite. Orion was dark with serious features and an aura of gravity. Luyna was light with angelic features and a radiant disposition.

  “You should get some rest, brother. You cannot help anyone in this state,” Luyna advised.

  Damselfly tried to push herself into the darkness as Orion swept away and Luyna darted straight past her. The princess decided to follow Luyna as she was headed towards her mother’s room while Orion was undoubtedly heading to his own quarters for some rest. Luyna moved with purpose, her feline grace was matched by the distinct yellow slits of her eyes as she checked the corridor before pulling an object from her dress. A moment later Damselfly watched as the sorceress unlocked her mother’s door with the stolen key and disappeared inside. Bravely, Damselfly followed, trying not to make a sound although her heart was thundering against her chest. Inside her mother’s sanctuary it was dark which helped hide Damselfly as she entered. Before Luyna could notice her trespass, she dove under the bed and waited, barely breathing, expecting to be discovered at any moment. After several stressful seconds, Damselfly began to calm herself. It seemed like her presence had gone undetected and now she wanted to know what was happening in the room. It sounded like Luyna was whispering to her mother; unfortunately, the words were spoken too softly for her to understand their meaning. A noise in the corridor straightened Luyna who had been leaning over the bed, which was covered in complete darkness. The sorceress hesitated for a moment before leaving the room and locking the door behind her. Damselfly rushed to the door and tried to open it; the door was locked. Accepting her current predicament, Damselfly’s focus returned to her mother and she rushed to the bed to discover a pale imitation of the woman she loved.

  “Mother,” Damselfly whispered.

  Queen Etherelle was just visible at this close range, lying helpless in the bed, her beauty marred by sickness that had strung white in her lustrous hair. Unable to bear her mother’s transformation, Damselfly ran to the door. Discovering it still locked, she banged frantically on the door, trying to gain someone, anyone’s attention. She no longer cared about getting into trouble. Damselfly just wanted to get out of this room. She could not stand to see her beautiful mother so withered. After a while Damselfly ceased banging. No one was around and she had been sobbing so hard it became painful to breathe. Stepping back from the door, Damselfly caught sight of a dark silhouette in the corner and for a moment she mistook it for Orion. As the shadow took further shape, Damselfly glimpsed a rippling cloak that shrouded whoever was under it, except for a skeletal hand that held a shimmering scythe.

  Death had returned.

  “No,” Damselfly whispered. “You can’t have her.”

  When Death spoke, it sounded like a voice, centuries old. It sounded like rocks or water speaking after an eternity of silence.

  “Her time is close, only that could have drawn me back here.”

  “You’re wrong,” Damselfly denied. “There is no time, no one dies, not since…” The princess could not state that the loss of time had occurred because Death had been defeated by the Fairy King.

  She did not need to.

  “This is different,” Death ventured. “Your mother’s illness is unnatural.”

  “What is wrong with her?” Damselfly pleaded.

  “Her sickness is down to powerful dark magic, strong enough to destroy her body despite the lack of passing time.”

  Damselfly looked across the room to where her mother lay immobile on the bed, and sorrow threatened to overwhelm her.

  “You cannot take her. I won’t let you.” Damselfly grew angry as the tears burned her eyes and throat.

  “Nothing can stop death,” the reaper replied.

  “The Fairy King did, he defeated you and stole your power.”

  Damselfly’s fear had bubbled into anger, her frustration had grown unbearable and she lashed out despite the absurdity of a young girl f
acing down Death.

  “He only delayed the inevitable,” Death responded.

  Damselfly realised that she had somehow slumped to the floor with her back against the wall, tears streamed down her face, and she stared into the absolute darkness that was Death and her fury dissipated like fire without oxygen.

  “I will do anything,” she begged. “Take me instead.”

  “That is not how it works,” Death repeated.

  “No, there has to be something I can do,” Damselfly cried.

  A silence developed that made Damselfly believe Death had departed; his presence was practically indistinguishable from shadow and only the shimmering scythe revealed his continuing existence.

  “There is one thing,” Death revealed. “Only one.”

  “I will do whatever it takes,” the princess promised.

  “You must retrieve my timepiece from the Fairy King.”

  “But that’s impossible! He is trapped in the Evergarden,” Damselfly argued.

  Death glided across the room like smoke until he came to Queen Etherelle’s bedside. His scythe pulled back the blankets, and the princess was sure her mother would be lost to her forever.

  “I’ll do it,” she vowed.

  Death looked at her then and a chill surged through Damselfly’s entire body.

  “I know you will,” Death pronounced. “Only you can retrieve what I lost. Do not trust anyone and know this: if you fail then your mother dies.”

  “Please, I’ll do whatever you want,” Damselfly pleaded.

  “You have one second to retrieve my timepiece or I will take your mother to the other side,” Death portended.

  Damselfly ran to her mother’s side. Gripping her hand, she felt the chill in the queen’s fingers and replaced the blanket to keep her warm. Death unlocked the door with his scythe and departed, leaving Damselfly alone with her new mission.

  Chapter 4

  Troublesome Times

  Ever since Princess Damselfly had chosen his gift at her birthday celebrations, Rat had been waiting anxiously for his reward, an actual tour of the royal apartments. He had played every moment in his mind a dozen times over and yet still he waited. There was no one that Rat could speak to about his prize as the residents of the royal apartments almost never left their sanctum and even when they did, it was unlikely, they would remember a poor orphan boy. Rat was not angry or particularly upset about his current situation; instead, he was more determined than ever to gain access to the only part of the castle that had so far remained out of his reach. A familiar dull ache in Rat’s stomach told of his hunger. There had been little work since the princess’s party and few opportunities to earn money or food. Rat kept his mind from the hunger by watching the door to the royal apartments and imagining all the majestic happenings that occurred beyond. On very rare occasions Rat would spy someone coming or going from the apartments. These were rare glimpses of a secret world that the orphan boy treasured, so he was alert and watching as the door opened to allow the dark magician to pass. Rat wanted to get closer though he was smart enough not to sneak up on a sorcerer; however, it appeared he was not the only one with thoughts of espionage as the princess herself passed through the door and followed the magician.