He shook his head as if he did not know. Her grip around his neck became tighter and almost suffocating he tried to remove her hands. ‘Where?’ she repeated, and at last, he nodded heavily and showed the palms of his hands in surrender.
As she loosened her grip somewhat, he caught his breath and answered in a tiny voice,
‘We don’t carry keys, just this.’ And from underneath his tight white tunic he showed her a yellow arrow-like amulet; almost a replica of the one the demon had in his possession; the one they lost.
‘And where do these things lead to anyway?’
‘To the one; our queen.’ He seemed nervous, staring almost shyly down at his boots.
‘Everyone tends to get lost in here. The surroundings constantly change, so this amulet always guides us back to her.’
‘Understood, now …’ and she moved her other hand to pull the amulet from the gold wire around his neck.
‘Don’t!’ he shouted and reached for it, covering her hand to protect it.
He seemed attached to it and afraid of her taking it. She decided to use it against him and with a slick face she said, ‘If you don’t give me a key to those cuffs, I will take it.’
He grabbed her hand tightly, trying to pry her hand away from his neck, his amulet. But she squeezed his throat hard and he seemed completely powerless. Now why is that? she wondered. They were so strong before when we fought them …
‘I …I …’ he wanted to say something and she gave him a little more space. ‘I … will die if you take it from me.’ Her eyes changed and showed compassion. ‘Are you sure?’
He nodded and looked pale, thinking about the cruel act of Sempervirens, when she once pulled the amulet from one of his kind when he ignored her demands. He had died instantly.
‘Very sure.’
She believed him, but did not let go of his precious throat where he seemed so vulnerable.
Tirsa looked in wonder at Artride, for she had never seen her so strong and determined before.
‘If you don’t free Tirsa right now I will easily pull this chord. We have come too far to have it all end here!’ She sounded honest enough and the guard tried to read her thoughts; which, of course, frustratingly he could not do anymore in here. Woodchildren were stripped of their magic and enslaved with these golden amulets; very much like Tirsa’s golden chains. They were as immobile as the Woodchildren were. Would they end up like them? Artride wondered, after they had lost their sanity, bestowed with golden amulets around their necks, slaving for the sorceress unto the last of their days?
‘I promise I’ll help you and your kind, if … you help us,’ she added carefully.
‘I can’t … think or … decide for myself … anymore.’ He strained to say with effort.
‘There are no visible keys, but the ones to be made up! Everything … is an illusion!’ he said with great difficulty now, and as she slackened her grip even more, thinking about what he meant, he raised his hands, and as Tirsa screamed to warn her, thinking he would hurt her, he quickly moved to pull at the wire. It broke and with it his soul came free. He sunk like a sack to the floor.
‘No!’ Artride screamed and fell with him, picking up the two pieces of the golden wire; trying to knot them together with trembling hands, pulling it over his head again. But he was already gone; she listened to his chest; but heard no heartbeat and felt no pulse.
Her eyes wet from tears, glancing at Tirsa, she asked, ‘What have I done?’
She shook her head in answer, looking despaired at first, but then she seemed relieved.
‘You have freed him. He was dead already,’ she said with a crooked voice, even worse than Artride’s. ‘It is possible he could not have done it himself, before.’
Artride walked towards her, ignoring the fact she was naked, picking up the freshly filled jar and piece of bread they had just taken her.
‘Woodchildren, in love with life, are very much against suicide. But now he was forced; he had failed the sorceress. Most likely … she would have done it otherwise, you saw the fear in his eyes. Now that you have the amulet you can go look for her.’
Placing the jar at her dry mouth, Tirsa drank carefully, but with great thirst.
‘Easy, don’t drink too fast.’
Tirsa coughed and then smiled. ‘Here we are again; you nursing me.’ She smiled faintly while Artride with one hand brushed blonde strands out of her face.
‘It reminds me of the moment we first met,’ she smiled back warmly, but with a worried look in her eyes. Tirsa seemed to be in a bad way; her eyes were red rimmed and her cheeks hollow, and she looked a bit yellow.
Finished drinking she chewed on a piece of bread. ‘I have everything I need right here,’ she cheerfully stated. ‘Food, water, a friend –’
‘But freedom,’ Artride added, checking the chains carefully at her wrists.
‘Yeah, but when you find a cure for the curse you will come back for me, won’t you?’
‘Don’t talk nonsense; we will go together all the way. We’ll just have to find something to open these chains with.’ And she examined the ones at her feet. They both were perfectly round in shape, but … without locks. Discouraged, she tried to hide the discovery from Tirsa and think about the words of the poor lad. No keys, but the ones to be made up? Illusions? Did that mean these chains were illusions as well? Glancing at the Woodchild lad, she thought, he doesn’t seem like an illusion to me! He is dead alright!
But what if … a strange thought crossed her mind; what if he was trying to help them with what he said; knowing he was going to die anyway, with something he knew to be true, unless he believed in it? What if giving up believing in what they saw would release the spell somehow? She remembered the old saying; “Only when you let go of what you know to be real, only when you question reality, you will learn that all is illusion.”
What if that was true in this case? Didn’t he say as much as it all being an illusion in here; weren’t they warned by both Roalda and Kashing about the same thing?
‘We mustn’t forget that nothing is what we think it is, Tirsa.’
‘I heard what he said, Artride. I’ve already tried to use my creative mind; without any result.’
‘Perhaps if we worked our minds together; so we both try to think away the chains.’
‘Think away? That … does sound a little surreal.’
‘You see? You don’t think it’s possible, do you?’
‘I had so many bad dreams, discouraging visions. I don’t know what’s real or not anymore,’ Tirsa said in such a small voice, looking so vulnerable and insecure like she had never seen her. The love in her heart grew even stronger.
‘Look at me. I am the only one in this room who is real, besides you, and that body of the poor Woodchild; that is no illusion. Everything else: the walls, the floor, the golden chains and cuffs at your arms and legs, has been made up; it’s magic. Remember we’re still in a cave and a very powerful mind wants to make us believe differently. She has created it all. And now it will vanish!
~ ~ ~
Tirsa had never believed it would actually happen. Her chains did break after Artride’s faith that they would; or rather after letting go of what she knew to be true. Was it that simple?
It seemed it was, a bit like the illusion in the swamp when Artride despaired and Tirsa believed in breaking the illusion; only now the roles were reversed.
Artride was growing worthy of her title and becoming more a hero to her.
‘What looks like the most difficult path to take at first, is often the most simple,’ Artride said in a mysterious voice.
‘It seems so logical if you come to think of it; but I have to admit I didn’t expect it to be so simple,’ Tirsa answered, rubbing her wrists.
‘I have a feeling she again has put us through some test; a cruel one and we thought it impossible to escape without keys; while they were right under our nose.’
‘Well, it appears to me you already know her well, and she won’t be fooling you any m
ore!’ Tirsa smiled and took another sip of the water.
‘Quiet right.’ Artride laughed, and they continued their search for the sorceress, which was a lot easier now they knew that the arrow-like amulet was indeed a compass, with Sempervirens as their destination.
‘I was worried sick about you,’ Tirsa conceded.
Artride impulsively slid her hand tenderly into Tirsa’s. Electricity shot warmly through Tirsa.
‘And to think we were only parted by a wall!’
‘A very thick wall.’
‘An illusion,’ Artride reminded her.
They were back in a white corridor, which seemed endlessly long, with no turns whatsoever, but their compass slid at a pleasant speed ahead of them over the white floor.
Then the scenery changed and the corridor ended in a spacious round hall. The white of the walls shone with majestic colours; the colours of the rainbow, but not only the walls, the very essence of the air was illuminated with colours. It was transparent and even the two women were covered in it. Looking up they soon spotted the source for the profusion of transparent shades and light: a giant round glass window was placed in the ceiling of the hall. Knowing they were still in a cave, they could see the clear blue sky outside; so close but yet so far. The sun was not to be seen, but its light reflected on the white walls and because of the glass window it had a magical effect.
Without speaking they bathed in this healing light. Looking at each other they admired their naked skin being painted by the rainbow colours. Their faces purple, necks red and breasts and torsos blue, followed by green for their lower bodies and legs, yellow for the knees and their feet orange. It made them giggle in wonder.
The compass slowly moved on, so they had to follow if they didn’t want to lose it. At the end of the round hall a huge circular gate was to be seen. The compass stopped there.
The gate was shining by itself; completely solid gold and carved with many symbols, however without any knob or other suggestion of how to open it.
‘A snake that bites her tail, hmm,’ Tirsa said with narrowed eyes; staring at the symbols. ‘A sign of infinity.’
‘Or cunningness, when you think about the snake,’ Artride commented, thinking about Tirsa’s nickname.
‘Or both.’
There were also a lot of heads beautifully carved in the gold, filled up with a black kind of paint. Mostly cats with big, hypnotizing eyes, and birds of prey.
‘Art. At least it’s a sign of humanity,’ The queen suggested.
‘Then why do I have the feeling that it is not something to be joyous about?’
Artride stared questionably at Tirsa, who picked up the compass carefully.
‘So, what do we do; knock?’ she asked the queen.
‘Please try.’
‘Alright.’ And she bunched her fist and knocked shrewdly at the gate. Thinking it to be solid gold; she suspected there would be almost no sound, but instead a loud noise echoed through the entire hall, which had been deathly quiet before.
It startled them both and it made them nervous.
‘At least that must have gotten someone’s attention!’ Tirsa stated anxiously. Artride’s eyes were tired and somewhat hollow in her face; little was left of the glorious feeling she had felt before, but she could feel excitement just the same, even though she wasn’t showing it.
Nothing happened at first, and waiting impatiently with heavy hearts it seemed for ever before at last the gate slowly opened with a deep rumbling sound, which again echoed through the rainbow hall.
Curious, they looked in when the gate was completely opened. A thick fog clouded their view; only a piece of what appeared to be a narrow bridge of glass was to be seen. Beneath the bridge was a bottomless abyss, clouded in a pink, innocent-looking mist. Looking up, it seemed as though a grey sky was about them as if they were outside, with mist rising from below. It felt as if they were standing high up, too.
‘It seems we are leaving the cave and now really entering her palace,’ Artride mentioned and her companion nodded. She commented in a shivering voice, ‘Or this is an illusion as well; we can never be sure.’ They both wrapped their arms around their naked bodies; for the temperature had dropped.
‘Well, we’ll have to find out then, won’t we?’ Tirsa stated daringly and stepped upon the glass bridge; which seemed so thin it could break underneath her feet.
She took a few careful steps, nodding at Artride who came after her.
‘Don’t look around you or below; it’s probably to scare or discourage us, look at where you are going instead,’ she advised her.
Lights were flashing about them now and a few steps later a low thunder rumbled above them. The thick darkening clouds moved closer and made it harder for them to see where they were going; so all they could do was look at their feet. After they had taken about twenty steps another lightning bolt split the sky closely behind them and a thunderbolt crashed at the same time. A glittering high sound followed next; the deafening sound of breaking glass, only ten times louder …
Both looked back and saw through the dense dark pink mist that the start of the bridge at the gate, which still stood wide open, was broken and the pieces were falling into the depths. And small cracks were forming and were coming their way; one piece after another, shattering behind it.
Tirsa swallowed. It was not the scenery which was the only thing dangerous anymore, but the very path beneath their feet. There was only one option …
‘Run!’ she shouted and Artride; who had frozen at the spot, ran immediately after her.
They kept running without looking back, and Artride, who was the last person to leave the bridge to jump after her friend, felt the glass below her feet give way. Her feet lost ground and she fell. She quickly got a hold of the edge of the bridge at the foot of another open gate, solid wood this time. Tirsa dropped down on her knees and reached her hands out for her. All around them a deafening storm was bellowing, pulling at the queen, whose very life hung on her two hands. The glass bridge was completely gone now. Artride grabbed her hands one by one, and Tirsa used all her strength to pull her up, while Artride firmly held on to her arms; climbing up.
‘Don’t let go!’ Tirsa commanded her. Tears were rolling down her cheeks when the queen seemed to squeeze the woman’s arms painfully. No, she would not let go of her, she felt.
At last the queen managed to grab her shoulders and Tirsa was able to pull her up further.
Out of breath, she embraced her bodyguard tightly, skin to skin. The wind was blowing about them and it wasn’t a friendly wind. It was angry. They held each other for a moment while Tirsa stared at where the bridge had been. She was angry and upset. Another obstacle, how much more could they endure?
‘If this was an illusion,’ she said, ‘then it was a mighty real one! You could have fallen to your death!’
‘We both could have!’ Artride corrected her with a broken voice.
‘Either way, she has gone too far now, for I am sure this was of her doing! We have to work mighty hard for this counter spell!’ and she stood, helping the queen up as well.
‘Why would she treat us like enemies, this is getting ridiculous!’
‘I am determined to find out and it better be soon; for I have lost all track of time,’ Tirsa said, thinking about her brother.
‘We still have time, but I agree it is about time we get to see this trickster.’
And Artride firmly grabbed her hand and guided her through the open gate, where in the distance a reddish glow was flickering.
It was a huge, broad red curtain hanging in the dark surrounding corridor, which spread the reddish light. It wasn’t an angry red, but a warm welcoming red, a very physical kind of red; like the inside of a womb. The thick velvet-like curtain waved gently on a warm wind. Artride had to push it aside, for it was blocking their way. It felt very soft when she touched it and she peeked curiously behind it. A little disappointed they discovered more curtains; slightly thinner and silky with paste
l colours: yellow, pink, orange, green and blue.
‘Well, she is definitely into colours,’ Tirsa whispered.
‘And into curtains,’ Artride added.
The curtains were waving gently from the white ceiling all the way to the white floor, and the light was all around them from an undetectable source.
Still holding hands they moved on along the lovely curtains which felt sensuous, almost erotic, when brushing them with their shoulders. I bet they are enchanted, Tirsa suspected, and reached out gently.
‘Don’t touch them, Tirsa,’ Artride warned her, squeezing her hand gently.
Tirsa swallowed hard and looked at Artride. ‘But we have to if we want to cross this passage way.’
‘Just try to avoid it as much as you can. It is only logical that this is some trick too. Just use your shoulders like this.’ And she showed her the best way; slipping through the curtains faster.
Some seemed to stick to them, touching their hair and the bare skin of their arms and legs; like they were charged with electricity. And all the while they waved and waved gently on soft music only those curtains could feel.
The enchanted veils had a luscious result on the two women who were breathing heavily with their cheeks crimson; not trying to look and feel at the other and give in to the very present pulsating urge. There seemed no end to the veils which were draping around them, slowing them down; clinging to them and sometimes holding on to them like giant limbs. It became a little too much for Tirsa at one point and she became more and more frustrated; tugging hard at the curtains. At one point Artride was so wrapped in a pink curtain it seemed to suffocate her as well, and the bodyguard tried to rip the cloth off her. She tore the cloth from her body with effort and in doing so, they both noticed the cloth begin to bleed! Artride lay covered in it on the floor with Tirsa holding on to the bleeding rags!
‘How can this be happening?’ Artride cried while Tirsa freed her of the last bits and pulled her up against her body.
‘I don’t want to know.’ She bit her lip hard and looked away; away from Artride, away from the urge of passion she could not, would not give in to, walking backwards, getting tangled in veils herself.
The Queen's Curse Page 28