Ellanor and the Curse on the Nine-Tailed Fox

by K T Durham

  “No!” Elly screamed, livid, and her rage finally boiled over and burst. The glass in the large windows shattered, and Mrs Silverwinkle gasped and leapt away from the sprinkle that showered down. Grandpapa narrowed his eyes, and with a flick of his finger, the shards flew back together, repairing the windows in a heartbeat.

  Elly started backing away. “Don’t expect me to sit down like a good girl and accept this!” she cried, tears spilling over. “You’ve all lied to me my entire life! I’m not who I’ve always thought I was!”

  Grandpapa took a step towards her. “Elly, please, listen to us. We never meant to hurt you. There is much we have to explain,” he said quietly.

  She couldn’t breathe as she backed away from them both. Suddenly, they were strangers to her. She didn’t want to stay another second.

  “What were their names?”

  Grandpapa and Mrs Silverwinkle looked back at her blankly.

  “My birth parents’ names,” she repeated, her voice trembling.

  Mrs Silverwinkle clutched at the pendant of her necklace. “Thorne and Jonah,” she said, barely above a whisper.

  Thorne and Jonah.

  Then it hit her.

  TJ. The initials etched on the silver ball that Goldie had been carrying with her.

  Elly closed her eyes, and she suddenly felt very tired, like she had been swimming upstream for too long. She had to get away; otherwise, she would surely drown in this raging sea of revelations. She fumbled for her neck.

  It was then that her grandfather noticed the tear-shaped amulet that was suddenly exposed, and his eyes grew round with realization. “Elly, wait!” he cried, reaching out to her.

  But she had already vanished into thin air.

  “Elly!”

  For a split second, Nidah Celendis saw her daughter through the kitchen window, standing alone at the front gate of their house. Nidah frowned and peered out the window, looking every which way. But it was raining hard, and she seemed to have disappeared in the blink of an eye. Did Elly make her way into the house?

  Nidah could hardly believe that Elly was finally back home in Alendria. She had been a nervous wreck the past excruciating six months, waiting for news of her daughter and staying up late into the night, unable to sleep. The Order kept reassuring her that Elly was still alive; they could sense her aura, but they could not tell whether she was safe. The waiting, the not knowing, was the hardest. Nidah kept imagining the worst. Now, for the first time in six months, she could breathe without that heavy ache in her chest, as though a rock had grown there.

  Luca was in the garden picking flowers for Elly. He had run home excitedly, yelling about meeting his sister on his way home from school. Her husband, Sereth, was working on something for Elly in his workshop. “You’ll see,” he said mysteriously, hammering away.

  Nidah was preparing a small homecoming party for Elly. Everybody in the Order, as well as Aron and Kaelan, had been invited. It was too bad that the homecoming would be marred by the storm; Alendria had not seen one for five centuries. These were dark times, but as long as her family was together, she could weather all the storms coming their way.

  She frowned. Had she imagined seeing Elly at the front gate? No, she was positive she saw her daughter, if only for a second. Quickly, she went up to Elly’s room and peered inside. It was empty. Everything in the room looked exactly as it had before Elly left for Gaya six months ago.

  Then she heard a squeak, and it took a moment to spot the hamster at the windowsill. Confused, she stared at the small, furry creature that was glowering at her. Then she gasped. “Marlow?” she cried. The hamster plopped onto his bottom, on top of something that looked like a golden compass, and folded his tiny arms, looking very cross indeed.

  Then she saw something sticking out from behind a tall pile of books on the floor. She walked over and plucked it out and stared. It was a belt with a book attached to it. Her eyes widened. It was Greymore, Elly’s Royan! What was it doing here? Then her heart leapt. Elly must have already come home! She wasn’t imagining it!

  “Nidah.”

  She wheeled around, clutching the Royan to her chest, overjoyed to be seeing her daughter.

  Galdor Celendis and Larabeth Goldberry were standing in the corridor. One look at their grim faces made that heavy rock re-emerge in her chest. “What is it?” Nidah cried, alarmed, her knuckles turning white as she clutched her daughter’s Royan harder.

  Galdor put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nidah. Elly has just gone back to Gaya.”

  She blinked, confused. “What do you mean? She just got back.”

  Larabeth Goldberry, whom everybody knew as Mrs Silverwinkle, the school headmistress, was shaking her head as if in a daze. Nidah saw that she had been crying, and the rock in her chest grew tenfold. “What happened?” she asked, stricken.

  Then Blaine and Jestor Huerin appeared before them, looking windswept. “We got here as soon as we heard, Galdor,” Blaine said darkly, and even the ever-jovial Jestor looked solemn.

  “Tell me what happened!” Nidah repeated, her voice shrill.

  Galdor took her hand. “Elly knows, Nidah. About her twin sister. Her human parentage.”

  Nidah gasped and staggered back. “No.” Jestor grasped her by the shoulders to steady her.

  Galdor turned to the Vierran. “Blaine, I thought you had blocked those dreams of Marigold.” It wasn’t an accusation, and the Vierran knew it.

  Blaine nodded. “Yes, I did. For a year, Ellanor stopped dreaming of her sister. But something happened when she got stranded in that strange forest where Guardian Graille was trapped. The enchantment got broken somehow, and the sisters seeped back into each other’s consciousness once again.”

  Nidah started trembling. She clutched her daughter’s Royan closer to her chest. “She left Greymore and Marlow behind, as well as the compass Larabeth gave her.”

  “She probably doesn’t want us to get in touch with her for now,” Jestor murmured.

  There was a heavy silence before Galdor spoke up. “I recognized the amulet she was wearing before she vanished. The amulet of Graille. He must have given it to her before he passed.”

  Blaine raised his eyebrows and nodded in understanding. “Ahh. So the legend is true. The amulet of Graille enables one to teleport freely between Gaya and Alendria?”

  “That is the only explanation.”

  Jestor glanced at Larabeth, who was quiet and pale. “Is it possible that Elly, ermm, might have inherited the inter-realm teleporting ability from Larabeth?” he asked curiously.

  Blaine shook his head. “It is unlikely, since Ellanor never showed a natural aptitude even for intra-realm teleporting. No, it must be the amulet.”

  Nidah sank to her knees. “She’s my daughter! I have always loved her as my own,” she wept.

  Galdor stepped forward and put his arms around her, and Nidah sagged against him. “I am so sorry, Nidah” he murmured. “But she was bound to find out sooner or later.”

  “But we had agreed to tell her everything when she turns twenty-four! By then, she should be more mature and more ready to process the shock of such news,” she said through her tears, wringing her hands. “She wasn’t supposed to find out like this!”

  Galdor nodded at Nidah. “Yes, we did agree on that. But you know as well as I do that life does not always go according to plan, Nidah. If Elly was meant to find out the truth now, then we have to deal with it.”

  Larabeth drew a shuddering breath and clasped her hands together, pacing back and forth. “She must be in shock. We need to give her some space, some time to take it all in.”

  “Poor Elly,” murmured Jestor, shaking his head. “This is a huge blow.”

  “She hasn’t listened to the whole story,” Galdor said, keeping one comforting arm around Nidah, who looked limp and glassy-eyed.

  “I want to
talk to Sereth,” she said in a whisper, and Galdor nodded.

  “He’s coming,” he said gently.

  Larabeth stopped pacing and shook her head. “There is so much I need to tell Elly,” she said softly, and they all turned to look at her.

  Larabeth closed her eyes, and her sad voice weighed with regret. She retrieved something from the sleeves of her blue silk robe and gazed down at it. It was a silver ball suspended on a silver chain, and the engraved letters TJ could be seen on its gleaming surface.

  “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to give this to Elly,” she murmured. “She needs to know that Thorne was my beloved son, and that her mother was the love of his life.” She paused, her voice breaking. “And that Idril Gailfrin Celendis was her grandfather.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Nobody’s Granddaughter

  Miriam yawned as she flipped the bacon sizzling on the frying pan with the spatula. She had only gotten four hours of sleep after Elly vanished through that portal, which had now been placed back safely in their old wooden chest under the bookshelf in the living room. Thank goodness she and Horace could sleep in this morning since the shop was closed for business on Sundays. It was almost ten o’clock, so they would be having more like a brunch, really.

  She yawned again as she placed the bacon and eggs on two plates. “Breakfast is ready!” she yelled, with Snowy purring at her feet.

  Horace’s voice came hollering back from his workshop. “Just a moment! I’m almost done!”

  She was pouring coffee into an old mug when she heard a sound behind her. She turned, halfway through another yawn, and almost dropped the coffee pot.

  “Oh, my goodness!”

  Elly was sitting on the floor with her legs splayed out, her back against the wall of the living room across from the open kitchen. It was the expression on Elly’s face that alarmed Miriam as she hurried over. Her red-rimmed eyes were swollen in her small pale face, and the usual light in her green eyes was dulled, as though the sun had been obscured by grey clouds. She seemed to be staring into space as tears slipped down her cheeks.

  What was Elly doing back here so soon?

  Miriam had not seen Elly look like this, not even when she was stranded in London last year and began losing hope in tracking down Organoth blue amber to repair that portal. No, something mighty awful must have happened.

  With a grunt, she ignored her creaking joints as she sat down on the floor and gently took the girl’s cold, limp hand. Snowy waddled over and snuggled up against Elly, her large, yellow eyes two question marks.

  “Elly, my dear. Tell me what happened,” Miriam said gently. The silence stretched on, and Miriam waited nervously as she gazed into Elly’s blank, tear-stained face.

  Finally, Elly turned to look at Miriam, as though just seeing her for the first time. “Miriam. I’m sorry for dropping by like this. I had nowhere else to go.” Her voice was soft, lifeless.

  Miriam gave a fervent shake of her head. “You’re always welcome in our home, Elly. We’re more than happy to have you. But what ever is the matter?”

  Elly closed her eyes and grimaced. “I’m ever so tired. Please, may I rest a while?”

  Miriam nodded and squeezed her hand. “Of course, dear. Come, let’s get you to bed. You look like you haven’t slept in days.” Elly obviously didn’t want to talk about whatever was bothering her, at least not yet. She’d give her space.

  Then a voice thundered down the hallway. “Ahh, I just needed to finish up a few stitches! You hollering at me doesn’t help—” Horace stopped mid-sentence and gaped at the sight before him as he stepped into the living room. “Elly! Oh my, what are you doing back here?”

  Miriam glowered and gestured for him to be quiet. “Shh! Horace, let’s not badger Elly. She needs to rest first.” Horace opened his mouth to protest, but Miriam silenced him with a withering look. Not now, she mouthed. He nodded, bewildered.

  They walked her to Charlie’s old room down the corridor. The bed sheets smelled freshly laundered as Miriam lifted the heavy quilt and threw back the covers. She caught a whiff of her grandson’s scent and smiled. Little Alex had stayed with them for a week at the start of his summer holidays while Charlie and Sue sorted things out with the adoption agency in the city. Very soon, Miriam would get to meet her other grandson, and this excited her to no end.

  Horace was a little hesitant. “The boy can’t speak a word of English! How am I ever going to communicate with him?” he complained, more from nerves than displeasure. Truth was, both Miriam and Horace felt like they had suddenly been thrown into a soap opera when Charlie and Sue told them about the long-lost son she’d left behind in South Korea, and how fate somehow managed to reunite them …

  Miriam wanted to tell Elly all that had transpired in the past six months. It was nothing short of a miracle. There was so much to celebrate! But then there had been the worrying news of Goldie and her friend Sebastian. Miriam thought the pair had been staying in some safe house all the way in Edinburgh. But early that morning, she received a frantic phone call from Winnie, known affectionately as Miss M to Goldie and Sebastian. “Have you heard from the kids?” she asked anxiously, for she had not heard from them for nearly two weeks. Goldie had become so paranoid that she didn’t want to risk having the police track her phone calls to Miss M, so Goldie promised she would send a postcard once a week, with a couple of sentences indicating they were safe, but never offering details about their whereabouts. Goldie’s loopy handwriting was distinctive and easy for Miss M to recognize. The postcards were always signed off with ‘Love, Saffy’.

  Elly kicked off her boots, staggered to the bed and dropped face down. Slowly, she turned on her back and stared up at the ceiling.

  “Elly?” asked Miriam uncertainly. Horace hovered at the doorway, shuffling his feet. “Do you need anything to eat or drink, dear?”

  “I want to sleep,” she whispered. Then she closed her eyes and turned on her side. Miriam nodded and quietly closed the door, nudging Horace out of the way. Ten minutes later, as Miriam quietly went back into the room bearing a tray with a glass of water and butter cookies, Elly was already fast asleep.

  Miriam checked on Elly every two hours during the day. Once, Miriam leaned close to the sleeping form on the bed to make sure the girl was still breathing.

  “She sure is catching up on sleep,” Horace murmured when he peeked in on the second day. He had opened the windows a smidgen to let in some fresh air. It was still cold, so he checked to make sure the heater was running and the blankets were snug around Elly.

  On Wednesday morning, when the sky was overcast and drizzling on and off, Horace and Miriam got up even earlier than usual to check on Elly. She was still fast asleep.

  “What if she doesn’t wake up?” Horace asked worriedly. Elly had been asleep without stirring for three days! Surely, this wasn’t normal for humans, unless they were in a coma. But she was an elf, so maybe sleeping for several days without waking was normal for her kind …

  Miriam slapped him on the arm, and he yelped. “Don’t say such things!” she cried, but she had to admit she was worried, too. They finished their breakfast in silence. Soon they had to get ready to open shop, and they welcomed the distraction. By the time the kitchen was bathed in bright sunshine rarely seen in London, Miriam was feverishly putting the finishing touches of vanilla frosting on a strawberry mousse cake, and Horace was gulping down his coffee, about to head to his workshop.

  Then Elly wandered into the kitchen and yawned.

  “Elly!” they cried in unison. Frosting slipped off the knife, and coffee splashed onto the table.

  “Good morning,” Elly said groggily. Her mouth felt like it held sawdust, and she cringed at her reflection in the kitchen mirror. “How long had I been asleep?”

  Horace and Miriam breathed sighs of relief. “Three days straight. In fact, it’s been over seventy-two h
ours since you collapsed in bed,” Miriam declared, peering at her. “How are you feeling, my dear?”

  “Wow,” Elly mumbled, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was almost ten in the morning. “Three days. I still feel awful, though.” She shook her head and tried to smile at Miriam and Horace. “I’m not hurt anywhere, don’t worry. It’s just that a lot has happened, and I really needed to sleep on it …” She trailed off, not wanting to explain any further.

  “That’s an understatement,” Horace quipped. Then he grinned and put an arm around her. “Well, Sleeping Beauty, for a while I was worried you’d fallen into a coma or something!”

  “It was like I hadn’t slept in a really long time,” she admitted, stretching and arching her back. Then she sighed. “I’m sorry for worrying you. But something is really affecting me. I’ll talk to you about things tonight, OK?” She looked at them appreciatively and smiled. “Thank you so much for letting me stay. I needed to get away, and this was the first place I thought of.”

  Miriam beamed. “Well, my dear, you are as good as a granddaughter to us. You can always count on us,” she said, and Horace nodded in agreement.

  At the mention of “granddaughter,” Elly’s face darkened. Because it was then that she realized she wasn’t really Grandpapa’s granddaughter. She was nobody’s granddaughter. She was an orphan, and she had been completely and blissfully ignorant for the past thirteen years.

  Miriam wiped her hands down her apron and glanced at the clock. “Elly, make yourself at home. Just relax and we’ll talk later tonight, OK? There’s plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables in the fridge, and freshly baked bread cooling on the counter. Just help yourself.”

  Elly was relieved. She needed time to think things through. So that day as Miriam and Horace went about their business, she wandered around the house, deep in thought. Snowy followed her around, meowing incessantly. As she sat down on the windowsill in the living room basking in the sunlight, her hand automatically went to her waist, and she was startled when she realized her Royan wasn’t there.