The Twilight Star

by Laura E. Collins

  “You may put her there,” he said as he motioned towards what looked like an empty cot in a row of four similar cots. Inside the main room, besides the cots, I noticed a large desk, a work table that stood in front of a tall counter, and a wooden shelving structure that contained a few books and several jars and other containers of what appeared to be herbs and tonics. At the back of the large room there was another door, which I presume led to the back of the house. I noticed there was a fireplace with a stone hearth and a small cauldron hanging over it. A pitcher sat on another table nearby table. The doctor went over to a small cupboard and removed nine small non-matching goblets and poured a pale yellow substance from the pitcher into them. Then he proceeded to tell us to be seated and served us the liquid which, I realized, was warm ale. No refrigeration. Great. From the appearance of this place I assumed it was some type of clinic or apothecary since he had introduced himself to us as a doctor.

  “And now for the answers you have all been waiting for,” he said encouragingly as we quenched our thirst.

  We eagerly waited to hear his explanation. No one spoke. I think that we were all too heartbroken, confused, hot, and exhausted to do much else.

  “From your home you have been pulled through a portal from Chicagoland to here, in the Kingdom of Eteryn. Not only have you transcended time, but you have also transcended dimensions.”

  “What does that mean?” Sean demanded irritably.

  “It means, young man, that you aren’t in Kansas anymore.”

  That statement caught my attention. How would he know about that popular saying from the Wizard of Oz movie if he was from this so-called kingdom? “You sound very American for someone to be in a place like this,” I commented suspiciously.

  “Yes. I know only too well what you have been through my friends, . . . because the same thing happened to me sixteen years ago.”

  “You mean you are like us, . . . you just suddenly ended up here?” I asked.

  “That is correct, young lady. I’m originally from Florida. I had a thriving family practice and lived off of the coast. One morning I went snorkeling by myself and was sucked into a portal. I nearly drowned, but surfaced in a lake not far from here. Been here ever since.”

  “For sixteen years?” Sarah asked.

  “Yes.” He paused. “I had a wife and two sons at the time,” he said reminiscently.

  “How do we get back home?” I asked eagerly. “There has to be a way.”

  The doctor laughed and shook his head. “That is the question, isn’t it?”

  Everyone just simply stared at him like he was nuts.

  “I’m sorry to tell you that there is no way back. I’m afraid you are here until the end like your friend over there.” He pointed to Hannah’s body.

  “No way!” Sean said bitterly. “This is a bunch of bull-shit. You know what, we were probably drugged at that renaissance faire and are just stuck in some kind of dream.”

  “Dream all you want to, young man. I speak the truth. Portals don’t open very often and there is no telling when or where they will be. People like us are rare in this dimension.”

  “There are others?” I asked.

  “None that I know of in this kingdom besides myself . . . but there have been others in some of the nearby kingdoms. People stranded like us. They call us ‘wayfarers.’”

  “Wayfarers,” I repeated.

  “This can’t be happening!” Sarah said, raising her voice. “We just went out for a fun day at the Faire, there are no such things as portals, other dimensions, or aliens or anything else! This is the stuff of fairytales and everyone knows those are made up!”

  “Life here is no fairytale, Miss,” the doctor replied solemnly. “You will all rest here tonight,” he said thoughtfully as he laid a large stained, but clean cloth, which I assumed was a shroud, over Hannah. “I will go to the East Wing Cookhouse and see Ms. Bettina to provide some food for you this evening . . . you must be famished. Tomorrow morning we will bury your friend in the cemetery and figure out what we are going to do with all of you. Stay here in my clinic until I return. The villagers are not accustomed to seeing wayfarers besides myself and I don’t want any of you getting into trouble or injured. There is a latrine out back if you need it.”

  And with that he was gone and the rest of us were left to ponder our situation. We all turned and talked amongst ourselves. Some of what he said made sense, based on what we had experienced, seen, heard, and in some cases smelled so far, but my brain just couldn’t seem to accept it. It didn’t seem real to me. No one really knew what to do as they stood around clinging to their cell phones still searching for a signal. Even Sean was silent. The soft sounds of village life drew me to the open window, still gripping the goblet of ale in my hand. My head spun as I watched what was happening outside. There were white geese milling around, horses with riders and horses with carts attached came and went. People and children were walking everywhere talking and laughing. Some men rode by with slain deer and rabbits among other things strapped across the backs of their horses as the sun began to set.

  I sank down to my knees and started to feel sick. I don’t think it was the slightly bitter ale the doctor had given us more so than the reality of the situation sinking in. I was no longer in denial over Hannah’s death. I felt the tears come, hot and wet riding down my flushed cheeks. Sarah and Paul came over to me. Sarah hugged me and began crying herself. Paul put a hand on my shoulder, looking upset himself. Sean paced back and forth aimlessly. Kennedy and Samantha sat down on the floor that had been worn smooth, apparently by years of use. Matthew and Josh remained standing at the other large window, staring out at the village that was now our new home.

  A half hour must have passed before Dr. Thorpe returned carrying a large basket in his hands with the fading outside light. He placed the basket on the table and went through the door in the back of the room and came back with another pitcher of ale and some wooden plates. “It’s not much on such short notice, but this will do for tonight. Please, come and help yourselves.”

  Our group hurried to the table where Dr. Thorpe used a large knife to cut hunks of bread from several loaves. In the bottom of the basket was a large wooden serving bowl filled with some kind of stew. We all took turns spooning the stew onto the wooden plates and used the bread to sop it up and eat it, washing it down with more ale. I was so hungry I ate every last drop, even though the flavors tasted different to me. I guess they seemed more natural, more gamey. Back home, the only kind of soup or stew I ate usually came out of a can.

  Dr. Thorpe disappeared behind the door in the back again and reappeared a few minutes later with quilts and a few pillows. “Please make yourselves as comfortable as you can in here tonight,” he said as he went over to the door bolting it shut, then moving to the windows and doing the same with the shutters. The only light remaining in the large room came from a few lit candles and the fireplace. “The floor will have to do for most of you tonight however the rest of you are welcome to the remaining cots over there,” he said as he pointed. “Sleep as much as you can, we have an early start tomorrow morning.” After that he disappeared behind the door in the back of the room. We heard him bolt it shut on the other side. I guess he didn’t trust us either.

  Chapter 3

  I did not sleep much at all that night. We flipped coins to see who got the cots and who didn’t. Unfortunately I ended up on the wood floor, but I did have a pillow. The village quieted down very quickly after the sun had set and remained eerily quiet throughout the night. I don’t think I heard a thing, not even an owl hooting. Although Hannah had sort of been a friend, the thought of her dead body resting so near to us gave me the creeps. As soon as the sun started coming up we heard bells ringing nearby. Dawn had come. A few minutes later Dr. Thorpe appeared wearing the same ensemble he had on yesterday, bringing more ale. He must have a barrel of it in the back, I thought.

  “Good morning my new friends,” he said cheerfully. “I’m glad to see tha
t you made it through your second night. The sun is up and we have work to do. First, we must bury your friend in the cemetery.” He said it like burying someone was an everyday occurrence here. Maybe it was. “Then we will break for dinner mid-morning and afterwards we are all going to the castle. I requested an audience with the princess. She is the one who oversees people like us.”

  “A princess?” I asked.

  “Yes, Princess Emeley. Technically she owns me as she will you, . . . now that you are in her kingdom.”

  “What do you mean own? You mean we are going to be her slaves?” Sarah cried.

  “Not exactly. We are her servants . . . and very lucky I might add. She is a compassionate and reasonable monarch.”

  “You said kingdom,” I remarked. “Does that mean that there is a king?”

  “Yes, her father, King Edreyan Claymore.”

  Visions of a dark, hard, cold, tyrannical king flashed in my mind. I don’t know why that upset me, maybe it’s because everything that I had read in the history books or seen in the movies depicted most kings as evil, scheming, self-absorbed peacocks.

  As if reading my mind Dr. Thorpe remarked, “Don’t worry, he will be the least of your concerns. I doubt you will ever see him.”

  After downing a few more pieces of bread and more ale, we took poor Hannah’s body along as we once again piled into Dr. Thorpe’s cart. We kept the shroud wrapped around her as no one wanted to look upon her body in the early stages of decomposing. The village had come to life again as we watched the people moving about here and there, starting to get to work.

  Although I still had my watch, Dr. Thorpe explained that the toll of the bells from the nearby monastery told people what time it was. It seemed there was a time difference, so I set my watch back accordingly, estimating the time. Breakfast was practically non-existent here . . . or a snack at best. Dinner would be served at mid-morning and then supper was eaten in the early evening. I’m not sure how two meals a day would go over with the rest of my companions, but as a nurse I could relate. There were often times during my shift at the hospital when I didn’t take a lunch break. It happened more often than not.

  It took all eight of us, plus Dr. Thorpe pitching in, toiling with the shovels in order to dig Hannah’s shallow grave. She didn’t even get a simple wooden coffin. “No time,” the doctor had said. My mind fought this cold reality with each jab into the ground. My thoughts drifted back to my home. Thank goodness I didn’t have any hungry pets there waiting for me. I wondered if I had been missed yet. I wasn’t due back to work for another few days, but wondered if my sister or father had tried to call me. I worried over what happened to my car, still parked at Sarah’s place.

  By the time that we were done, we were all covered in dirt and sweat. How I longed for a shower.

  “We should say something,” Kennedy said solemnly.

  “I’ll do it,” Sarah said, rising from her sitting position in the grass nearby. “She was my friend.”

  She had tears in her eyes as she began to speak. “Here lies Hannah Murphy. We were friends for over five years and she was the sweetest person I ever knew. I will always remember the time we snuck into that frat party and . . . I’m sorry . . . I guess that’s not the best thing I could be saying,” she said as some of us raised an eyebrow at her. “But she always stood by me as a good friend and I am so sorry that she died this way. She didn’t deserve it.”

  That’s it? I thought. Samantha stood next to her and put an arm around her. She appeared clearly distraught. Dr. Thorpe thrust a hastily constructed cross made out of branches tied together into the ground and motioned for us to follow him back to the cart. We rode back to his clinic, which he had closed for the morning. Drew, his assistant, had brought more food for the morning dinner and we ate in silence as the bleak reality of our situation continued to solidify.

  A messenger arrived and delivered a folded note to the doctor, who promptly opened it and read its contents. “She’s ready for us. Clean up as best you can. We don’t want to keep her waiting.”

  I rummaged through my small purse but could not find a comb to smooth out the tangles of my hair. I did my best to wipe my hands and face from the basin of water that was provided, however dirt and dust seemed to cling to me everywhere. I could even feel it in my nostrils.

  This time we walked behind our tour guide instead of riding in the wagon. We passed through the village, enduring stares from everyone around. People actually stopped what they were doing to look at us.

  “There are some things you need to know before we get there,” Dr. Thorpe remarked as we walked. “When Princess Emeley arrives, you will bow and curtsy politely as is the custom here. Do not speak unless she asks you a direct question and keep your answers honest and short. You will address her as ‘your highness’ if she does speak to you. Do not stare at her . . . keep your eyes lowered as a sign of respect. I will do most of the talking and try to arrange for her to allow me to place you in the village with families that are in need of help and can take you on.”

  “You mean you are going to split us up?” Sarah asked worriedly.

  “I cannot care for all of you. We will see what she decides. Oh yes, and there is something else,” he said hesitantly. “The princess is only half-human.”

  Sean laughed absurdly. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Remember I told you that you have not only crossed time, you have crossed dimensions. This is not Earth. This is not the United States of America. This is Eteryn, and you have much to learn my young friends.”

  “So what is she a troll or something? . . . An alien? . . . She is half-demon?” he asked in mockery.

  “You are not far off . . . her father, King Edreyan, is a vampire. Princess Emeley is his half-vampire daughter.”

  “Vampires! Are you joking me, old man?” Sean choked out as he laughed.

  “Keep your voice down! Do you have any idea how serious your situation is?” The doctor hissed. “You have nothing but your clothes on you. You have no currency, no home, and no food. If you mess up . . . if you cause trouble the people here, especially the nobles, will have no qualms about executing you or locking you up for the rest of your life. The eight of you have an advantage I didn’t have when I first arrived here. You have me! And you will listen to what I instruct you to do or else have no one but yourselves to blame if you end up dead.”

  The seriousness of what he had said sank into me like gravity. He was right. He was the only link to this world that we had and the only one that we could trust. My instincts slowly began to tell me that he was a good man. He continued to instruct us as we moved. The ground gradually changed from the dirt roads to finely paved cobblestone as we entered the castle grounds. I looked around in amazement trying to ignore the stares we were getting from the courtiers and guards roaming about.

  My thoughts began to wander. What about this princess? Would she be a horrible aristocratic brat? Half-vampire? How was that even possible? My knowledge of vampires only extended to the usual television and movie scenarios . . . like Dracula. They avoid the sun, drink blood, are incredibly strong, and are immortal. I wondered if the same rules applied here. I formed a vision of this princess in my head . . . dark, imposing, demanding, and cruel. Dr. Thorpe had said she was reasonable. I hoped he was right.

  An escort met us in one of the castle halls and led us to a lovely open air stone terrace that overlooked some finely manicured green gardens. “The princess will be with you shortly,” the escort said plainly before heading back to his post. I saw several guards patrolling the grounds and one came to stand nearby to us. Time seemed to drag on while we waited.

  At long last I could see three women parading towards us from the hallway we had entered from. One, who I assumed was the princess, preceded the other two who walked side by side. The small group was trailed by a few more guards.

  “Line up!” Dr. Thorpe said hurriedly to us. We did as he instructed.

  The leading woman who wore an
expensive looking gown and headdress marched up to the group. She appeared to be somewhere around her late teens to early twenties had raven black hair coiled into neat braids and bluish-gray eyes that scanned us like we were a horrible disease. Her mouth formed a tight line as she took in our clothing and appearances. I observed that she had copious amounts of jewelry on. She looked positively disgusted to see us. Great, this probably won’t go well, I thought. Then she spoke. “Princess Emeley Claymore,” she said authoritatively as she gestured back towards a tall, slim blonde woman who moved forward. The other well dressed blonde woman remained where she was and watched with curiosity.

  “Your Highness,” Dr. Thorpe said in greeting as he bowed low before her, gesturing for us to do the same.

  “Thank you, Celina,” the princess nodded to her dark haired companion. “Dr. Thorpe,” she said softly, glancing at our group. “It was good of you to contact me so promptly.” She moved forward gracefully and regally as if it did not require any effort on her part. She possessed lovely soft, delicate features and slightly wavy blonde hair that cascaded down her back. She wore a simple silver-toned circlet on her head of an intricately woven design as a symbol of her sovereign status. I noticed that she was tall, perhaps around five feet nine inches by my estimate, an inch or so taller than myself. The princess wore a beautifully embroidered pale pink gown with a white silk underskirt and some delicate jewelry. The one physical trait that stood out to me were her other-worldly eyes, a perfect mix of brilliant green towards the pupil fading out to a beautiful shade of blue at the edges of her irises. They were stunning.

  I had to admit that she was nothing like I had pictured her, like the unhappy lady who seemed relieved to step back from us. It took me by surprise to see how normal the princess looked, especially after what Dr. Thorpe had said. I was beginning to think he made it up until she stepped forward and smiled at us, showing her teeth. I tried not to stare, as Dr. Thorpe had schooled us, but I could not fail to notice her slightly elongated and sharper canine teeth. They didn’t protrude out of her mouth and weren’t by any means grotesque, gruesome, or scary, but they were definitely different. I heard Sarah’s breath hitch nervously as the princess stepped nearer.