Unlikely Allies

by Davina Jolley

  ‘We have a lodger,’ Elina spoke at last, ‘Whatever happened here started at this spot,’ she said as she walked towards the table, ‘It surged powerfully and smashed into a door, I think this panel was once a door,’ Elina paled, she felt sick and faint. ‘Our mother was entering that trap door when the blast hit her too.’

  Primrose rushed over and caught Elina as she fell, ‘It took her into the flood waters, Primmy. It swept her away with another.’

  Shadow and Dilly, who had been watching Elina’s strange behaviour started to whimper anxiously. They saw her fall and rushed over to help and comfort her. For one awful moment they thought Elina had once again had her magic drained from her and was slipping away from them; memories of that awful day flooded back.

  When Elina felt better, Primrose took her up to her bathroom and showed her the carving above her bath. Two women, each with a child, were watched by a man, and another girl played in the river with another man. In the top right corner two faces looked down on the family from the heavens and in the top left corner an indistinguishable, unsettling figure looked on too.

  ‘I believe the carving shows Briony, our mother, and her family. I believe the figures in the sky to be our ancestors looking over us. I think I am one of those babies,’ Primrose said quietly.

  ‘I think you’re right, but I feel nothing but worn out. I’m tired after that last vision,’ Elina said.

  ‘You’re not going to like this very much, Lina, but I believe I can get in touch with them. In the letter it says I will meet our mother in an unexpected way. We need their help. If we have a lodger…’ Primrose paused, ‘In fact, I’m certain we have a lodger. There’s part of the Ancient Tree that has no leaves, in the same part I’ve seen a hole at the top of the Tree and at times a wisp of something coming from it, like smoke. I think it’s Dark Magic. So, I would like to try and open up a line of communication tonight. I think I nearly opened it once before, but I panicked and the feeling stopped. What do you think?’

  ‘I think you intended to try this tonight even without my say-so,’ Elina smiled at her, ‘If you want to go ahead with it, let’s hope the line you open is the couple in the sky and not that thing,’ she added with some concern, looking at the other corner of the carving.

  ‘Nice one Lina, as though I don’t feel nervous enough already!’

  17. The Summoner

  Darius, or the Summoner, as Dawn used to called him, sank to his knees and pulled the cloak tightly around his emaciated form. He was desperate and knew he would soon have to give into the Darkness and the voice that bombarded his mind at every opportunity. The continuous struggle between the Darkness and Light was almost over; he felt he would soon be lost within its folds for ever. His magic that had initially kept the evil at bay had almost gone; just a small thread of Gold Magic was keeping him on the edge of sanity.

  Once he had been a good man, sometimes a bit wild and thoughtless, but on the whole a good soul. His entrapment had caught him totally unawares. The full extent of his wife’s unhappiness had finally got the better of her that night long, long ago. He had been a fool - a stupid, ignorant fool. Besotted by his wife, he had not seen her betrayal coming. He wondered, sadly, whether she had ever loved him.

  He remembered the shock, amazement and horror, when his wife had forcefully aimed a blast of magic directly at him; it knocked him violently and painfully backwards and into a small storage cupboard. The air had been totally knocked out of him as he had staggered and fell helplessly, hitting his head against a protruding shelf. She had closed the door and left him, crumpled in a ball, bleeding and unconscious.

  ‘Now, she lives in a beautiful apartment and has everything money could buy. She has such a perfect life. All this could be yours. Just let go, trust me,’ the voice taunted him.

  Darius stroked his chest, which still bore the horrific scars of that magical burn, a permanent reminder of his wife’s betrayal and of his ignorance.

  ‘Remember, revenge is sweet,’ the voice of Darkness invaded his mind, tempting him to give him.

  When he had woken from that magical blast, he had found that he shared his prison with a beautiful, tawny owl. He smiled slightly as he remembered the look it had given him. The owl had swivelled its head from side to side and studied him just as intently. It surprised him to see that it was tethered to a perch by a silver chain, and positioned beside the smallest of openings to the outside world. The opening was to become his only glimpse of the world, the world he had once roamed at will and took for granted.

  ‘And you still can, just like your wife. Roam to your heart’s content. Just let go. Trust me.’

  He had tried using his Gold Magic to free himself, but to no avail. He was locked inside with powerful magic, much stronger than his own.

  Now, every minute of every day was an exhausting struggle: the voice that kept invading his mind and spirits picked at him constantly; wearing him down. Trapped inside a ridiculously small storage cupboard for countless, endless years had eventually taken its toll and turned him into the pitiful creature he now was.

  Even his desperate cries for help had never been heard. With his magic almost depleted and his spirit at its lowest ebb, he was so, so tempted to just let go. If he let the Darkness have him, his struggles would be over. But an inner voice urged him on and told him never give up, the voice of his sister, Briony. The memory warmed him. Deep down he knew the promises of his tempter were false.

  ‘Untrue, untrue - freedom and power is just a thought away.’

  Only a short while ago, he had hoped, almost believed, that his incarceration would soon end. After many years of inactivity, someone had triggered the motion sensor and entered the Ancient Tree, and Primrose’s home computer had turned on. He thought warmly of his old gaming partner. He had hoped to train her through the game so that she could protect herself from the Darkness and eventually free him. He knew Primrose, his sister’s child, would eventually possess magic, but for some unknown reason the computer connection had been lost and so had his chance for freedom.

  The spark of hope lit that night had grown into an enormous fire - the knowledge that freedom could at last be his. He had grabbed the chance eagerly with both hands, but for nothing. The flame had been extinguished just as quickly, and his world had come crashing down. The connection had been lost and his calls for help went unnoticed. He wondered if someone had really entered the Ancient Tree or whether his mind was playing tricks on him.

  In his eagerness for freedom he had dropped his guard and lost his only companion. A sense of guilt washed over him at that memory.

  ‘But you can be free. I can make all of your dreams come true. I never let anyone down.’

  Darius tried desperately to ignore the voice. He tried hard to keep positive, but sometimes that voice seemed to know how to penetrate his mind and then it became more forceful, more persistent, more persuasive. He told himself to fill his mind with memories and try to block it out. He wanted to keep what little magic he had left. He hoped and prayed something might still happen; he would need his magic then.

  At first, he had struck up a friendship with the owl. He used his magic to feed and clean them both and the bird had become his eyes and ears to the world outside. It had kept him abreast of everything that happened around the forest. But as the years progressed, he became lonelier and succumbed to the dangers of isolation. His temper frayed and he freely admitted that he had become an extremely unpredictable task master, especially when the effects of the Dark Magic began to affect him.

  In fact, at that moment, he was extremely embarrassed by just how brutal and cruel he had become; that poor, enslaved bird had endured countless beatings from him. He did not blame it one bit for not coming back to him; he would have done the same, if their places had been reversed. He knew this feeling of regret would cease, all he had to do was give in to the Darkness.

  ‘That’s right, give
in. No more feelings of guilt. No more loneliness. No more soul searching. Everything you could ever wish for will be yours. Trust me!’

  Trapped in this ridiculously small room, he had not slept properly for years - there was no room to lie down properly. He could not exercise either as space was limited. As for a bath, he yearned to soak his wasted body and become clean again, yet another unfulfilled dream. He glanced round at the black, encrusted walls with despair. He knew his skin was also thickly embedded with the toxic particles too.

  ‘But it doesn’t have to be. Let go, come to me.’

  Magic had trapped him here and his magic had worsened his imprisonment. There was no way out unless he chose the darkest of routes.

  ‘Well done, choose me, trust me.’

  Once, Darius had possessed both types of magic and when the Dark Magic surged, he had to use his Gold Magic to disperse it, but it was a dangerous method to use, especially as the dust was as trapped as he was; there was nowhere for it to go. The inside of the cupboard was now coated in a thick layer of accumulated black dust. This not only made the space smaller, but sealed him inside as brilliantly as the Gold Magic on the other side kept him out of the main rooms of the Ancient Tree. The black dust was lethal when breathed in; it could turn you mad, crazy or violent.

  After many years, Darius thought he could qualify on all accounts. Mad, because he could hear voices and wanted to talk back. Crazy, because he had loved a woman, who had not loved him in return, and violent because of the disgusting way he had treated the owl and the feelings of rage that at times consumed him.

  For a moment, he wondered if it was his wife that had entered the Ancient Tree, if that was the case, he stood no chance of freedom.

  ‘But this need not be; you can be free in a matter of seconds. Trust me.’

  Violette, or Lettie as he loved to call her, had betrayed him; she had given him a fake, duplicate belt that night. Unfortunately, he had only discovered this after his incarceration. The belt had been crafted by a great magician called Hugonis. The leather was etched, depicting his favourite forest scenes and fastened with a silver clasp, shaped like a wolf’s head; the wolf’s eyes were pure diamonds. Hugonis had also made bracelets for his sisters and mother, as well as special gauntlets for his father to help him control the Dark Magic he possessed.

  Lettie must have switched the belts that night without his knowledge. He hoped the real belt still hung somewhere inside the Ancient Tree, if only he could get out of this room and find it. If he had that belt now and not the fake one that hung loosely around his waist, he would have been able to escape. The belt would have allowed him to teleport himself to a safe place. Lettie knew of the belt’s powers. Lettie had betrayed him in more ways than he could count. A wave of pure frustration and anger washed over him.

  ‘So, let’s show her the error of her ways.’

  Recently, he had become extremely excited; the owl had brought him exciting news. It had mentioned names he had recognised. Jack, his friend, was looking for Primrose and his sister Evelyn. Hope grew, but then his mind became confused when the bird mentioned Briony had just died. He thought she had died on the same night he was imprisoned, swept away in that huge wave.

  In fact, he had thought all his family was dead; his parents at the hands of his uncle in a battle fought long ago and his sisters on the night of the flood. If only he had known this earlier, if only the bird would come back.

  He really needed the owl, he could give it messages to take to Jack, but every time he summoned it, the bird refused to come. He feared the owl had been killed too. Now, he had no clue what to do next.

  What was it that Briony, his sister, told him to say whenever he struggled? That’s it; it was never to give up. Stay positive.

  ‘No, no, she always told you to take the easy way and give up!’

  ‘No! Never!’ he shouted loudly and suddenly realised his error. He should not have called out. The voice became more persistent when he called out, and he did not have a lot of magic left to keep it at bay. He was forced to use it and fast. He snapped his fingers and the voice was gone, and regretfully, another piece of precious Gold Magic was gone forever.

  Good deeds had to be done to maintain Gold Magic and that was impossible in this pathetic, stupid, irritating, claustrophobic, dirty, little room! His temper flared and boiled within him. Darius was in danger as he struggled and fought to keep himself sane. He was finding it so, so difficult and he was so, so tired. He pulled his filthy, black coat, round his wafer, thin body and hugged himself tightly and prayed for one last time.

  18. Primrose tries something new

  Elina watched Primrose intently, probing her mind for any signs of anxiety or fear. Primrose sat in the rocking chair, hands on the arm rests and eyes closed. She concentrated her mind on the carving and the image of the two friendly faces that gazed down on the family group.

  After a while Primrose seemed to shimmer, but no lines of worry marked her countenance. Elina noticed that her face had changed slightly, probably from all the fresh air giving it a healthier tone; her hair too seemed to have developed a tinge of auburn. She thought it was strange that she had not noticed it before, but then Primrose would probably have had something to say if she was caught staring at her for any length of time.

  Her eyes flickered to the diary, Primrose had been insistent that she read some of the passages. Although Elina still felt as though she was prying, it also gave her something to do while her sister tried to open a ‘line of communication’. Flicking through the diary, Elina let it fall open on a page near the beginning and began to read the following entry:-

  Monday, August 10th

  Dear Diary

  Had such a great day today, mother had to go out somewhere, got dropped off at Briony’s. What a result!!!

  You’ll never guess what Auntie Briony let me do - stroke a wolf! I actually stroked a wolf!!!! And it wasn’t a little one, it was huge and she was called Luna. When I grow up I’m going to have my own wolf.

  We also picked zillions of berries. Briony taught me all the names. She also said that if I keep scoffing them we won’t have enough to make a pudding and a cake!!!! Yummy! I got really, really, really messy too.

  Auntie said my cake was the bestest she’d ever seen and I should take it home to show mother. I wanted to share it with her instead.

  I hate, hate, hate, hate her!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  She is the vilest mother on planet earth! My cake is ugly! I am a useless cook! I’m not to bring anymore cooking home! I wish, wish, wish I could stay with Auntie Briony. My mother is the vilest Vi ever to live.

  Raising her head from the diary, Elina stared at Primrose; she remembered baking cakes with her mother too. She knew that her mother would have eaten the cake and told Primrose it was the best she had ever tasted, even if she had used salt instead of sugar.

  It was a shame that her mother had not been aware that Primrose had actually been her daughter. She wondered, once more, why Violette had pretended that Primrose was hers, when she obviously had no motherly instincts. As she gazed at Primrose again, she noticed that the trance like state had deepened and that she was still totally relaxed. Elina turned a few more pages over and started to read another entry.

  Primrose and Elina were not to know, but that cake was a favourite of Briony’s. It was also a cake that only Briony knew how to make. Violette could not have anything in her home that showed Briony was getting her memory back. That would have put Briony’s life in danger.

  Sunday, August 16th

  Dear Diary,

  Mother slapped me today, not just once! It hurt. But I wouldn’t cry. She said it was my fault. I found her make-up and I wanted to look grown up and just as pretty as she is. Instead she laughed at me and told me I looked like some kind of messy monster. I’m glad I ruined her make-up - it was the lovely expensive stuff! I’m glad I made her mad too. I detest
her. It’s going to take years to pay for the new lot. I wish someone else was my mum. Auntie would have let me and I bet she would have let me make her up too!

  Her heart went out to Primrose, that was exactly what her mother would have done. Not only that, but she would have shown her how to apply it as well, even though her mother rarely used make-up.

  Violette, on the other hand, had come home that night and received the biggest shock of her life. Primrose with make-up on bore a strong resemblance to Briony and Violette had panicked big time. Nastarana was due to visit at any second and if he saw Primrose and the resemblance to Briony, they would both be in dreadful trouble. Primrose had been sent to her room and the door locked!

  In fact, after that day, Violette had made a habit of making Primrose disappear every time Nastarana was due. It was far safer that way!

  Elina heard Primrose mutter something, but it was too indistinct to make out what it was; she placed the diary into her lap. Primrose was definitely speaking.

  ‘Is my mother here?’ she heard Primrose demand.

  There was a pause and Primrose began to speak again, ‘How do I know you speak the truth?’

  Primrose’s voice held a note of defiance, but Elina still sensed no signs of worry or fear. It was obvious she was having some kind of conversation and had successfully opened the line of communication with their ancestors.

  ‘We believe the Ancient Tree has a lodger. Elina is convinced that whatever it is means us no harm, but it is close to death.’

  Elina was momentarily startled when she heard her name mentioned, but she was also sure that she had heard the words ‘Ancient Tree’ somewhere before and recently. Primrose had always referred to the tree as home or just called it the Tree when speaking to her. She had been unaware that the tree had a name and had never thought to ask! Now she wondered where she had heard or seen the name before.