by C. M. Lucas
‘So,’ she began slowly, trying the words out for size. ‘The horses here have wings.’
‘Yep. And the King has wings.’
Anya nodded, still staring into the fire. ‘And Lorcan has wings too.’
‘Yep.’
‘Okay, so I think I’m getting used to things having wings in general.’ The girls looked at each other and laughed. It felt nice to laugh about something.
‘So, what’s that, er – do I say guy, or half-breed, or dragon-thingy?’
‘Guy is fine,’ Anya answered, ignoring Stephanie’s ignorance.
‘Guy then – What’s that guy’s story?’
She looked over to the cells where a few hours ago she herself had been locked inside. In the firelight, she could just make out Lorcan’s strange figure curled up in the corner by the door, his grey cloak wrapped over the peaks of his wings and his hood covering most of his face. She sensed there was more to him than he’d shared, like what he had done to end up in that cell. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied, drawing the blanket closer around her bare arms. Her little punky t-shirt and tartan skirt had been fine for the muggy weather back home, but here... it was like sitting in the middle of a perpetual frozen breath.
‘What do you make of all this prophet and Marked One stuff?’
‘Well, I don’t know where this came from,’ she said, pointing to the new scar on her hand, ‘but I still think they’ve made a big mistake – how could they not have? I don’t even know how to make peace between me and my ex-boyfriend, let alone “restore the balance” to an entire Kingdom! I don’t even know what happened here.’
‘What do you think we should do about it?’
Anya sighed. ‘I don’t know, Steph. I came here looking for more of the Weaver’s books so I could go home and save the only place I know for sure that my mother visited. I don’t want to just go home empty handed, and watch as James George pulls up the floors that she walked on, throws out the shelves she touched and rips the heart right out of the place. Iain’s heart...’ Her eyes welled, but she managed to grit her teeth and hold it in.
‘It’s okay,’ Steph said, gently placing her hand on Anya’s arm. ‘Scott’s is a special place. It means something different to each of us. If I hadn’t have worked at Scott’s, I’d have never of met Tim. Iain introduced us, you know?’
‘No, I didn’t know that.’ She smiled, even more thankful to have known him. It was just like him to set people up. He could see things in people that others just couldn’t.
‘I understand how you feel,’ Steph continued. ‘I’d rather die than let that arse get his hands on it.’
Anya shifted on the hard ground, trying to get more comfortable. As she pushed her bag to one side, out fell the little red box Iain had given her in his final moments. The necklace was still inside.
The sleek weaves of gold blinked as the fire flickered, and she recalled the story he’d told her. The girl he’d once been in love with and how they’d wanted a daughter. Carefully, she took the necklace from its box and lowered it around her neck. By the time she’d placed the box back in her bag, her mind was made up.
‘Come on,’ she said, getting to her feet and dusting herself down.
‘Where are we going?’
‘We’re going to do exactly what we came here to do. We’re going to find those books.’
WITH STEPH TRYING her best to keep up in high-heels, Anya marched to the stables where the boys were inspecting the horses. They were poking them right in the spot where their wings met their bodies, causing them to kick out and flap around.
Michael saw her coming and smirked. ‘Feeling better “oh Marked One?”’ he said, bowing rather flamboyantly.
‘Shut up, Michael.’ She trusted he’d have a few snide comments lined up for her; typical post-break-up Michael. Ignoring her ex, she continued. ‘Look, I think we should read the Weaver’s riddle again. Try and work out the next part. That way, if we find a book we’ll know this madness is real and hasn’t all been for nothing.’
‘I agree,’ Tim said, still staring with fascination at the horses. ‘These creatures are incredible; I can’t fault them! Their muscle movements and responses are that of a real animal – no mechanics at all.’
Anya noticed the mare watching Tim closely. By the look on the horse’s face, she found Tim just as perplexing as he found her.
‘Bonkers as it sounds, somehow, this is all happening.’ He turned his interest back to the conversation at hand and the horse went back to grazing the arid, white grass in the paddock, calmly drawing back her wings.
‘Okay,’ Anya said. ‘First things first; let’s meet up with the King and find out what’s been happening here. I think this Marked One stuff is crazy, but if we can help them out, maybe they’ll help us out? After all, if there is a book hidden around here somewhere, we’re going to need all the help we can get to find it.’
THE SOLDIERS INFORMED the Four that King Theone was out hunting with the camp’s cook, and wouldn’t be back until the feast around the fire later on. Barlem, who was still grovelling much to Anya’s discomfort, showed them to the visitor’s quarters.
If the King’s quarters were royal, their hut was practically divine. Centred against the back wall was a large bed, exquisitely carved from the trunk of a thousand-year-old white oak and laid with soft tan and white fur. Woven vines created a four poster effect whilst the symbol that had appeared on Anya’s hand hung above the head, fashioned from elegant feathers, vines and beads, all varying shades of red.
Barlem stood with his head high. ‘We’ve been waitin’ ever such a long time for you, Miss.’
He stood there, watching her like he wanted something – her approval or her reaction, maybe – but she couldn’t bring herself to show how uneasy these things made her. The mark that appeared on her hand, the VIP treatment, the expectations – how was anyone supposed to react to this?
She gave him the most appreciative smile she could muster. He looked so pleased with himself; she couldn’t hurt his feelings, especially after the way the King reprimanded him for kicking her.
When he left, Anya told Steph and Tim to take the bed.
‘O.M.G, Anya, thank you! I love it, it’s so cute!’ Steph lay on the bed, stroking the fur blankets.
‘But it’s meant for you, Anya,’ Tim whispered out of Steph’s earshot. ‘What if they take offence to you not sleeping in it?’
‘It doesn’t feel right taking up a whole bed on my own when the two of you could share it. Anyway, it’s not meant for me; I’m not who they think I am. I’m happy on the floor, I promise. A couple of those sheepskin blankets and I’ll be fine.’
THE ENTIRE CAMP came together for the feast. Standing around the fire in the deathly cold reminded Anya of past bonfire nights back at Piddling’s. Each year, the kids would be taken somewhere to watch fireworks and celebrate Guy Fawkes Night. The huts around the camp reminded her of the vendors that would sell hotdogs, jacket potatoes and freshly cooked doughnuts, though sadly, none of those smells were present. The lack of fragrance only highlighted the lack of food in her stomach.
‘I hope we don’t have to wait long, I’m starving,’ Michael whispered.
As more and more men gathered around, Anya quickly realised that she and Steph were the only two females in the camp. They hadn’t even seen a single woman in the time they’d been there.
She noticed many of the men looking at her and whispering to each other. The elders seemed intrigued by her arrival, but some of the soldiers were clearly unimpressed. A pair of hard-faced men, clad in armour, sat across from the Four, talking in low voices and grimacing at her whilst they spoke. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but her ears were burning.
‘You know, if you have something to say, you can say it to me rather than gossiping like girls behind my back.’ The camp fire burned in her eyes as the challenge rolled off her tongue.
‘You’re just not what we expected,’ said the stouter of the two soldi
ers, his dirty white eye-patch somehow doubling the intensity of his gaze.
‘This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting either, but here we all are,’ she barbed, narrowing her eyes.
The other soldier, sharpening his dagger on a rock, looked up and snorted. ‘What can a tiny little thing like you do against the Darkness? Grown men have gone out there to fight it and never returned. What makes you so special?’
Fortunately, King Theone’s return halted their conversation there. Just as well, she didn’t have an answer for them.
The King landed boldly by the soldiers and shot them a look as if he knew they’d been confessing doubts. He was carrying what appeared to be a dead bush, whilst a group of men behind him had baskets full of the same. Although the Four hadn’t spoke about what they were expecting for a meal, Anya assumed they had pictured, just as she had, some sort of hog or deer roasting by the fire. She couldn’t have been more disappointed. The dead bushes looked far from appetising.
The hungry men around her looked confused by what the King was doing, which led Anya to believe that this wasn’t a normal meal time for them, either.
Theone placed the first bush on the ground and knelt beside it, and if the past twenty four hours hadn’t been strange enough, what he did next changed everything the Four had ever believed about the world.
He focused all his attention on the plant, somehow managing to achieve the perfect quiescence despite the impatient grunts and the ill-tempered shouts from the crowd. Slowly, he raised his hands out towards the skeletal shrub, closed his eyes, and the Four stared on in disbelief as the King began to glow like moonlight. The shrub rose from the ground and its white, bone-like twigs began turning, first to an off-white, then through to a dark taupe. The natural texture of a living plant crept quickly around the maze of limbs, and deep purple leaves sprouted all around it. When they reached their full size, a red hue gradually took to the outer edges of each leaf, and a sweet, delicate fragrance graced the night.
Once the bush was in full bloom, lots of large, deep-carmine fruits emerged from raindrop buds, outer petals splayed out around the fruits like the points of a star. It was then that the men who had been carrying the baskets quickly gathered round, pulling the curious fruits into a wooden barrel.
When the final fruit had been picked, a much paler Theone released the plant from his enchantment, and no quicker than it fell to the ground was it barren once more.
‘Did you just see that?’ Steph’s jaw had hit the floor and her eyes were fixed on the King.
Anya just stared. Her train of thought thundered through to every book she had ever read as a child. The Chronicles of Narnia, The Last Unicorn, The Worst Witch, Harry Potter... they had been right all along. Magic was real.
Just as her imagination was about to carry her off to other realms of possibility, Barlem came bounding toward her with a hand-carved bowl, full of the fruits Theone’s magic had produced. In front of the entire camp, he knelt at her feet and offered the bowl to her, keeping his eyes downcast.
Anya was mortified. ‘Really, you don’t have to do that, Barlem,’ she said, quickly taking the bowl from him. ‘If I’m honest, I preferred it when you were dragging me around.’
‘If Miss would like, I could get the chains – ’
‘No, no! Please don’t,’ she chuckled anxiously, cringing at his failure to notice sarcasm. As annoying as he was, she found his blind loyalty kind of endearing. She made a mental note not to joke so literally around him in future. ‘Just, don’t keep bowing at me and fetching me things. Really, I’m not special.’
‘Beggin’ your pardon, Miss,’ Barlem said, stopping himself mid-bow.
‘What are these things, anyway?’ she asked, plucking up one of the pinkish-red fruits and examining it closely. It was perfect, not a single blemish or bruise anywhere.
‘Mallow fruits, Miss. Delicious they are! The King was lucky t’find ‘em down by the marshes, ‘ad only the slightest bit o’life left in ‘em, after all these years!’
‘Life?’ Michael said, his nose pointed askew from the ogre-like soldier. ‘That tangled piece of tumble weed? I hardly think there was a shred of life left in it anywhere, and if you think I’m eating that, you have another thing coming! I don’t know how he did that but it’s just not normal!’
Barlem hung his head and Anya recognised the look on his face. Michael’s words had made her feel that way before too.
‘Michael!’ she gasped, swatting his arm. ‘There’s plenty of ways to decline a nice offer without being a complete twat.’
‘Well, obviously that “home” you grew up in never taught you not to take food from strangers,’ he retorted.
‘Well, obviously, your mother never taught you if you don’t have anything nice to say – ’
‘SHUT IT, WILL YOU?’ Steph and Tim burst in unison.
Anya started, Michael lifted his chin, and Barlem looked at both Steph and Tim as if he couldn’t believe they would shout at the Marked One in such a manner.
‘We’ve got enough to do with finding these books, and ridding this place of this evil, dark-thingy-majig, without having to constantly break up your silly fights! Could you two please just be, like, civil or something, at least until we get back to Scott’s?’
Steph had a point, even if Anya didn’t want to admit it. ‘Fine,’ she agreed, rolling her eyes.
Michael, on the other hand, didn’t say anything. He just skulked off back to the hut without food. Anya knew him well enough to gather that his reaction was the closest thing to an agreement they would get, and decided not to say anything else on the matter. It was good that he wanted to help save Scott’s, but she had this deep, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that he should never have followed them to Ermius Hall. She had no inkling what may unfold, but something was telling her Michael wasn’t supposed to be part of it.
THE AWKWARDNESS DIDN’T last long once they tucked into the mallow fruits.
‘Eat ‘em quick,’ Barlem told them. ‘The Gods will only keep ‘em so long.’
Anya would have asked what he meant but she hadn’t realised just how hungry she was until she took a bite of the deliciously gooey fruit. The mallows reminded her of baked figs; inside the skin sat a layer of thick, jam-like pulp, and the centres were a sweet swirl of sticky white and pink goo, dotted with seeds as soft as chocolate drops and a taste like walnuts.
‘Who wants the last one?’ Steph asked the others.
‘I’m done, you girls have it,’ Tim said, lying back on the ground, his hands resting like a pillow behind his head.
‘Sharesies?’ Steph asked Anya, to which Anya nodded. Steph then took the last, slightly wrinkled mallow and broke it in two, but when she saw what was inside, she screwed up her face and threw the fruit down. ‘Eww! This one’s bad!’
Anya picked it up and was surprised to see its centre rapidly turning black and oozing a thin, whey-like liquid. ‘But they were all perfect?’ she puzzled.
‘Like I said, Miss, the Gods will only keep ‘em so long. The Royal’s magic is great, but nothin’ can keep somethin’ that was nearly dead alive for long.’
Tim sat up and raised his hand at Barlem as if he were back at university, about to question a professor. ‘This magic... is it more like energy transference? Rather than making things appear out of thin air?’
Barlem laughed like it was the silliest question he’d ever been asked. ‘No one can make things appear out o’ thin air! Not even the great King Erac or Queen Toldess could do that! It’s true, they do have great powers, but the Royals are not Gods.’
‘Who are Erac and Toldess?’ Steph asked with a tilt of her head.
‘I am proud to say,’ the King began, and they turned to find Theone fluttering towards them. ‘They were my ancestors, and the greatest rulers Virtfirth has ever known.’
Steph jumped to her feet and curtsied. ‘Your Majesty,’ she breathed sweetly.
Tim watched stars appear in Steph’s eyes as she smiled at
Theone, and in a heartbeat, he’d sat himself bolt upright, puffed out his chest, and manoeuvred himself into a much more manly position.
‘Thank you kindly,’ the King smiled. ‘But honestly, the pleasure is all ours. There’s no need for formalities in my company, and you may all call me Theone.’
‘And you can call me Steph,’ she said, her cheeks ripening like strawberries.
‘Or, the future Mrs Billinghurst...’ Tim chuckled nervously, though no one else seemed to find it funny. Just awkward.
‘I hope that’s not your idea of a proposal, Tim,’ Steph hissed at him.
‘No, no it wasn’t. I was just... making a joke. A very bad joke.’ His head dropped like a sad clown. ‘I know you’ve got rules for that.’
Anya cringed. Oh God, this is painful. ‘So,’ she said loudly, changing the subject. ‘What’s the deal with this “Darkness” then?’
Theone shifted and his charming smile faded. The small talk in the camp died immediately, and whether by natural coincidence or by the frosty chill that blew over the camp in that moment, the fire dimmed to half its original height. The faces of the muscle-bound soldiers saddened and she sensed that whatever had happened, it had caused great pain.
‘Eighteen years ago I ruled this land. My wife, Lynessa, was Queen and my brother, Eleazar, was my second in command. Our younger sister, Abeytu was the keeper of virtue in Virtfirth, a symbol of purity, and our peoples’ much adored Princess. Lynessa was expecting our second child and, as customary, she was visiting the people for wishes of good luck and health in time for the infant’s arrival. We were on our way to Silver Forrest, a small village west of here, when a manticore attacked our convoy. I gave Harrion, our firstborn son, to Abeytu and told Eleazar to take them and my wife to safety whilst my men and I fought the manticore. By the time they were out of sight, a whole pack was on us. I lost two men, but eventually they were slain and we carried onward to Silver Forest.’
Theone paused before continuing, as if calling on some sort of deeper strength. ‘As we neared the village, I could hear screams; desperate cries amidst chaos, but I thought I was hearing things. The mind has a funny way of playing tricks on you when your soul has just touched the edge of this world.