by Flavia Bujor
The
Prophecy
of the
Gems
Flavia Bujor
Translated by Linda Coverdale
To Jean Losserand and Stephen
I love those who dream of the impossible
Goethe Faust
Contents
Prologue
CHAPTER ONE Jade
CHAPTER TWO Amber
CHAPTER THREE Opal
PARIS, PRESENT DAY
CHAPTER FOUR The Prophecy of the three Gems
CHAPTER FIVE Three Enemies Meet
CHAPTER SIX An Unwanted Guest
CHAPTER SEVEN A Message for Opal
CHAPTER EIGHT The Gates of Nathyrnn
CHAPTER NINE The Bookseller
CHAPTER TEN Adrien of Rivebel
PARIS, PRESENT DAY
CHAPTER ELEVEN Rebillion!
CHAPTER TWELVE The Nameless One
CHAPTER THIRTEEN Death
CHAPTER FOURTEEN The Ghibduls
PARIS, PRESENT DAY
CHAPTER FIFTEEN Fairytale
CHAPTER SIXTEEN Good vs. Evil
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN The Ghibdul’s Prisoners
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN The Nalyss
PARIS, PRESENT DAY
CHAPTER NINETEEN The Chosen One
CHAPTER TWENTY The Seal of Darkness
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE No Way Out
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO The Dark Horseman
PARIS, PRESENT DAY
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE The Nameless One’s Past
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR The Raptors
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE A Meeting with Oonagh
PARIS, PRESENT DAY
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX The Ring of Orleys
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN The Lake of the Past
PARIS, PRESENT DAY
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT A Meeting with Death
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE Elyador
CHAPTER THIRTY The King and the Gift
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE The Battle of Thaar
PARIS, PRESENT DAY
Copyright
About the Publisher
Prologue
HE HAD BEEN awake all night, thinking. He had gone without rest or nourishment; he did not need them. He had to devise his plan — that was the only thing that mattered. At dawn, he had once again telepathically summoned the Council of Twelve. The session had been brief. He had simply informed them that the matter was in hand, that the project could not fail, and that he would soon put it into execution. The council members had not dared to ask him what his plans were. They had complete faith in him. After all, he was their superior. He had ordered them to return at noon for a meeting of the utmost importance.
Now it was time to deal once more with those incompetents so hungry for wealth and power. He briskly straightened his long, gold-embroidered purple robe and strode off to the council chamber. When he opened the door with his usual abruptness, the room fell silent, each councillor paralysed by fear. Not one was bold enough to look at him.
The terrified Council of Twelve watched him: the Thirteenth Councillor, whose existence beyond those walls was a mystery to all, and who imposed his will on everyone. His image was not reflected in any mirror. He cast no shadow. He was not human.
CHAPTER ONE
Jade
THE OLD MAN read the passage in The Prophecy once more and nodded solemnly. “Soon, very soon,” he muttered. Rising with difficulty from his chair, he turned to face the Duke of Divulyon, who was waiting anxiously before him.
“Well?” asked the duke.
The old man sighed deeply. He seemed exhausted. His face was etched with countless wrinkles, his back was bent; he could barely stand on his trembling legs. Collapsing into an armchair, he said weakly, “I cannot change a thing. She will follow her destiny.”
“Théodon, you are a wise man,” said the duke, his voice rising in obvious distress. “You have devoted your entire life to understanding the Prophecy. You helped my father. You have helped me. You have advised me, supported me. Do not abandon me now! She must live. She must triumph, whatever happens. She is so young! To think that soon … What can I do to protect her, Théodon?”
Holding his head in his hands, the old man remained silent for a long time.
“I love her as much as you do,” he replied at last. “I watched her grow up, and even though it goes against my better judgment, I have become fond of her. But she will not escape the Prophecy. Believe me, if I could have helped her, I would have been the first to do so. You ask me how she can be protected? You cannot protect her! Try to understand that! All you have to do is give her what is rightfully hers when the day comes. Now go. Go and spend the few moments you have left with her.”
“Fourteen years have passed much too quickly,” murmured the duke in weary resignation. Then he left the room.
The old man stared at the flames blazing in the hearth. The Prophecy would be fulfilled. Now it was only a matter of days. He had waited for this moment, had longed for it. Soon all his questions would be answered. He shivered. It was foolish of him to have become attached to the child; he shouldn’t have done that. The Prophecy had taken on another meaning: in those obscure pages where he had tried so hard to read the future and to understand the upheaval that was to come, he no longer saw anything except the fate of a girl named Jade.
That same girl was lying sprawled across her bed. She was feeling much too restless to read the book in her hands, and there was a faraway look in her eyes. Roused from her reverie by a sudden knock at the door, she leapt to her feet, calling, “Come in!”
A servant opened the door a crack, and said:
“Your father wishes to speak to you. Will you receive him now?”
Surprised that her father was not busy at that hour, Jade gave her consent, and the servant retired.
Jade smoothed down her long black hair, then tossed it over her shoulders. She looked in the mirror and approved of what she saw. True, her smile revealed teeth with slight gaps between them, her eyelashes were perhaps a bit too thick, and she was constantly brushing back a few rebellious stray locks. Whenever she became irritated (which happened often), her cheeks grew red and she lost the self-conscious expression she usually wore. However, she knew she was tall, slender, and beautiful, and she always dressed with care. She was sure of herself. She knew that whatever she wanted, she could get.
While she was smiling knowingly at her reflection, her father entered the room. She went to him, and he hugged her with unusual affection. Although he loved his daughter, he did not normally show his feelings so openly. Reserved by nature, he was always cool and composed. And yet, that day, something was making him behave differently. Releasing Jade from his embrace, he studied her for a moment without speaking. Once again he admired the striking intensity of her green eyes. “She is brave and tenacious,” he reflected, trying to reassure himself, “and she has a strong character.” Her features betrayed that character: you could see in her face that she was proud, determined, but capricious and stubborn as well. Lost in thought, her father could not stop gazing at her.
It was Jade who broke the silence.
“Papa, is something the matter? Haven’t you got any hugely important business to attend to? Why aren’t you reading stacks of documents, or dealing with thousands of tasks like you do every other day? Is something serious keeping you from your work? Is it my fault?”
This last question was asked with feigned innocence, and her father answered with a forced smile.
“No, no, Jade, nothing’s wrong. I’ve just got a bit of free time, that’s all. I know it doesn’t happen very often, but, as you can see, it does happen! So, how are you?”
“Not long now till the party,” she replied eagerly. �
��It’s going to be absolutely fantastic! I still can’t decide between the mauve silk dress or the white satin one. I ordered a third dress, a superb one, from the county of Tyrel. If it arrives in time, I shall wear that one. I simply can’t wait! Instead of counting the days, I count the hours — even the minutes! I’ve given instructions about how the banquet hall should be decorated, and what food and music we should have. Oh! It’s such fun to be organising everything myself! And I’ve arranged for musicians to come from a nearby town.”
She kept chattering on enthusiastically, but her father was no longer listening. “She’s too thoughtless,” he admitted to himself reluctantly. “She has never encountered difficulties, knows nothing of danger. She won’t be able to survive.” He reproached himself immediately for not having more confidence in Jade and tried to concentrate on what she was saying.
“It’s going to be magnificent, superb, spectacular! I can hardly imagine it. I still haven’t decided whether the ices should be served before the macaroons or afterwards. Perhaps after would be better, don’t you think? By the way, I’m not sure if the Baroness of Carolynt will be coming. It seems she has a fever. She’s the only guest who hasn’t accepted yet. Anyway, I find her boring—”
“Jade … Do you know what fear means?”
Startled into silence, Jade was annoyed. Why had her father interrupted her, especially to ask a question that was quite beside the point? Wasn’t he looking forward to the party?
“Fear?” she replied crossly. “Fear of what? I’ve never been afraid. It’s a hateful feeling. Only cowards and weaklings are frightened. Why do you ask me that, Papa?”
Just then, Jade realised how pale her father was. How could she have failed to notice how tired he looked, with those dark rings under his reddened eyes? And above all, that haggard expression … Something had happened. Perhaps business had not been going well …
“If only cowards and weaklings feel fear, then I am weak and cowardly,” said the duke. “In any case, it doesn’t matter.”
“But Papa! You’re respected and admired by everyone, and for good reason! You are the Duke of Divulyon!” Jade’s face lit up again, her green eyes flashing. “I would believe you if you said you had worries about affairs of state, but you, frightened? No! If this is a joke, it’s not very funny.”
The duke did not reply. Jade’s spirits fell again. “And now, Papa,” she said gravely, “tell me why you don’t think my birthday is at all important. In a few days, I shall be fourteen years old!”
“You are quite mistaken, Jade. I am very concerned about your birthday. But …” The duke bit his tongue. He had already said too much. She was not to know anything before it was time. Afraid that he might betray secrets he was not free to explain, he turned on his heel and left, going upstairs to his private suite where he began to pace back and forth. Every second was bringing him closer to the moment when he would have to reveal everything.
Puzzled, Jade wondered briefly about her father’s exceedingly strange behaviour, then shrugged her shoulders and decided not to fret about it. Her thoughts returned to the festivities planned for her birthday, and a smile returned to her lips.
CHAPTER TWO
Amber
INSTEAD OF KEEPING an eye on the sheep in her care, Amber was daydreaming, as usual. Sitting on the grass, she imagined herself living near the sun, enjoying its warmth, chatting to the clouds and birds. The wind carried her along on marvellous voyages; at night, she was dazzled by the brilliance of stars she could reach out and touch, and—
“Briette! Briette!”
She returned to earth with a bump. She had forgotten that she was supposed to be looking after one of her little brothers as well as the flock of sheep. The child was sprawled under a tree, calling out to her at the top of his lungs.
“Briette! Come here! I’m bored … Briette!”
Everyone had always called her Briette even though her real name was Amber, which was probably too pretentious for a country girl and might have better suited a noble lady, someone from another world. She couldn’t imagine why her parents had chosen that name for her, although she’d often wondered about it, but she loved the name for its originality, its air of mystery. It seemed to conceal a secret.
“Briette! Briette! Pretty-please, come here!”
Amber rose and went to rejoin her brother. She sat down beside him in the shade of the tree.
“Whatever is the matter?” she asked soothingly.
“I’m bored, that’s what’s the matter! I want you to tell me a story.”
Smiling, Amber stroked his cheek affectionately. “OK I will, but not right now.”
“Why not?”
“I’d like to be alone. I want to stay perfectly quiet, and try to listen to the silence.”
“I want a story! You’re just saying silly stuff” The boy clung to her arm. “Please, Briette,” he begged.
Tenderly ruffling his hair, she freed herself from his embrace, then kissed him on the cheek.
“Later, I promise,” she said. “You stay here for the moment. I’m going back into the sunshine, I don’t like to be in the shade.”
“But Briette, it’s so hot! How can you stand being out in the sun?”
“I just like it, that’s all.”
Amber returned to the middle of the meadow and sank down into the grass. Nobody wanted to go out in that stifling heat. The cloudless sky was almost too blue, too pure. The sun bathed Amber’s face in light. She loved to feel the sunshine caress her skin, she enjoyed the heat that everyone else found so unbearable. People in the village hoped the dog days of summer would end soon, without bringing on a drought, but Amber wished the hot weather could go on for ever.
A silhouette appeared on the path and caught Amber’s eye: a boy was running towards her. He crossed the pasture and staggered to a stop near her, out of breath. She knew him well, he was her childhood friend, and she smiled at him, peaceful and untroubled. Her hair was like red gold and gleamed like the sun, framing her lovely face with its tanned complexion. Flecks of green flashed in her hazel eyes, giving them a natural sweetness and serenity.
The boy could not return her smile, and looked sadly at her. Reluctantly, he gasped out his message.
“Briette, hurry — I’ll stay with your brother and mind the sheep, but hurry, run! Your mother … She’s in a bad way.”
Amber thought her heart would stop. Everything collapsed around her. Mist floated before her eyes. Gripped by fear, she felt cold in the scorching sun. She could not move.
“Briette! Run! Go! You haven’t much time — run, Briette!”
His voice reached Amber as if from far away. Her mind was reeling, the whole world quaking. With a desperate effort, she pulled herself together. She had to get there before it was too late. She scrambled to her feet and set out at a run. Fast. Fast. Tears blurred her vision, streaming down her face. She never felt them. Only one thing still mattered — to avoid the unavoidable: her mother’s death. That must not happen! Her mother was very ill and had been suffering gready for weeks, for months even. No medicine could save her. But she mustn’t die! Amber ran her frantic race against time and death. She could already see the village, and she ran and ran, unaware of how tired she was. She reached the village square at last, and then her house, where she burst into the single room, so dark and silent, and rushed to her mother’s bedside. Kneeling, Amber took her mother’s hand, squeezing it with all her might, cradling it, feeling its warmth. Her mother lay moaning on the only bed, a straw pallet. She was already deathly pale, and her face expressed unspeakable suffering. Her mind seemed to be wandering.
“You’re here, Amber, you’re here,” she murmured weakly in a quavering voice. “I have only a few days left to live,” she went on after a moment, “and I will have fulfilled my mission.”
“Mama, don’t talk any more. It wears you out.”
“No. A few days. But I won’t make it. I’m too sick.” Amber struggled to hold back her tears. As alwa
ys, she had to be strong. Gripping her mother’s hand even more tightly, she felt as though she were drowning in despair.
“Mama, Mama,” she stammered helplessly, “everything will be all right.”
She tried to believe her own words, wanted to convince herself they were true. More than anything, she would have liked all this to be just a nightmare, and hoped she would wake up as usual, snuggled up in the straw with her sisters and brothers. But no, the nightmare went on and on, a horrible truth Amber did not want to face. She was used to conjuring up a dream world whenever the one in which she lived became too cruel. She would hide there, refusing to suffer. But her imagination was fragile, giving way easily to reality. Then the pain became even more intense, as if to take revenge on the girl who had tried to deny it.
“Amber … I must stay alive. A little while longer. A few days, only a few days. Soon I’ll be at rest.”
Amber trembled at the sound of her mother s voice and realised that both their faces were wet with tears. Her mother groaned, almost resigned to her fate, but Amber was not yet ready to give up. She was one of those who fight on until the end, even when all hope is gone and there is no future left. True to her nature, she was still looking for a gleam of light in the darkness.
“Amber. Amber. My mission, Amber …”
“Hush, Mama. Hush. Don’t talk any more. It’s tiring for you, in your condition. But don’t worry, you’ll pull through. It’s nothing more serious than a cold. You’ll be up and about tomorrow. You’ll see, it’s a sunny day. The cherries are ripe. The grass is greener than ever. There isn’t a single cloud. The sky is so blue! It’s worth going outside for. Believe me, tomorrow you’ll be better.”
Amber’s voice broke, and she could barely choke back a sob.
“Amber, I only want to live a few more days. After that, it doesn’t matter to me, but I have my mission, and it’s still too soon. If I die, who will do what must be done? Amber, it’s my duty to stay alive for a few more days. But I won’t be able to — I haven’t got the strength.”