Arabel could see roots, lots of them, climbing the inside of the walls, almost like a ladder. She gazed thoughtfully up. There wasn’t much to see as the light from the ring was a thin beam and unable to traverse its strength up to the top of the hanging roots. Beneath Arabel’s feet was the cold earthy ground. There was nothing below, so there must be something above, she figured.
An overwhelming sense of hysteria bubbled below the surface of her consciousness as Arabel tentatively took hold of one of the roots and pulled, to test its strength. A small shower of dirt fell again upon her, but the root held, and Arabel determined to climb her way out of the tree trunk pit.
Painstakingly Arabel scaled the inside of the tree trunk, holding her breath, then remembering to breathe, disallowing all thoughts of dying here in the dark, dank prison. The roots were a tangle of tree flesh and Arabel could easily hang on to two or three at a time for leverage. Still, her progress was slow, and she still was unable to view above her, to see if she was actually climbing anywhere other than just straight up within the trunk. The ring continued to shine and Arabel was so grateful for its pale light that she could have cried. Well, she was crying, so she supposed she could have cried harder.
After some time, Arabel was quite exhausted. Her arms burned and her legs screamed with the effort of hanging on against the wall of dirt without toeholds of any sort. Her head ached and her lungs were beginning to revolt against the dirt she was inhaling each time she took a breath. Arabel glanced down below, to see how much distance she’d covered and was dismayed to see that the floor of the trunk was now rising up to meet her – and so to close the distance from the ground she’d gained.
“No!” Arabel cried out desperately. “No!” She sobbed as her feet touched the floor and the light of the ring faded and went out.
Arabel did not want to die. She did not want to die alone, in this tree, never having fully loved, and never knowing real freedom. She didn’t want to die!
“Shh…” a deep voice rumbled. “Be still now, tiny human.”
Arabel could see nothing, but she was certain it was the voice of the Elemental.
“Help me!” she cried immediately. “Help me, please, I’m trapped here!”
A blinding light flashed suddenly and Arabel was forced to close her eyes or burn out her retinas. The light was brighter than the sun but there was no heat. It reminded Arabel, strangely, of the bright light of the Ondines. Arabel could hear the pulsing of the energy of the light as it poured over her, restoring her strength and drying the frantic tears upon her face.
Arabel opened her eyes. The Elemental stood in front of her and she knew intuitively that they were still within the vast, magically enhanced tree trunk, but in some other part, not the horrifyingly damp prison of the last few minutes. They stood in what looked to be a roomy grove of majestic oak trees, a strange white sky hung overtop of them.
“You forgot me,” the Elemental accused softly, a sad look within his black-pooled eyes.
“You mistake me, sir,” Arabel explained, “for my mother, Violetta. She is gone now, passed to the other side. I am her daughter, Arabel.”
The Elemental peered at Arabel for quite some time. “Hmm…” he responded at length. “Not Vio-letta?”
Arabel shook her head.
“You look and feel to me as she did,” the Elemental observed, and Arabel could hear the puzzlement within his voice.
“I am sure my mother would not have forgotten you, sir, nor purposely forsaken you,” Arabel replied, wishing for some sort of context to refer to. “Can you tell me, please, what are you? And how did you come upon your acquaintance with my mother?”
The Elemental let out a long and rusty sounding sigh. The tree spectre turned away and Arabel could feel the sadness adorning its energy field like a heavy, old winter coat.
“Has it been so long then?”
“I am unsure, sir. I was very young when my mother passed. She’d not had time to speak of you to me. I would have been too small to understand.”
“How…how did the lady pass?”
“Fever, sir. A great fever came upon The Corvids and many were struck down. Both my parents, lost.”
The Elemental hissed in a breath. “A fever, you say?”
Arabel nodded and relaxed enough to look around. She felt safe now and knew no harm would befall her. The strange grove of trees stood alone in a strange white world without borders or edges.
“Why did you keep me in that prison for so long?” Arabel found she could not resist asking. “I was terrified.”
The Elemental looked surprised. “All must pass through the gateway. Why, t’was only a moment or two, whilst I readied your favourite tea. Or rather, your mother’s favourite tea,” he amended, catching himself.
“It was longer than a moment!” Arabel retorted with a shudder.
“Perhaps our versions of time differ then; I am sorry if you were frightened.”
“Terrified, more likely,” Arabel replied almost cheerfully as the Elemental passed her an ancient looking china cup with the aromatic smell of fresh honey, jasmine and mint rising up from within it. Arabel breathed in deeply of the luscious scent.
“I didn’t know this was my mother’s favourite,” she said.
The Elemental smiled. “And now you do.” He motioned to the expanse of the space they currently occupied. “Come and see, survey the sights your mother so loved. Vio-letta was so very special.”
“Yes,” Arabel concurred, amazed to meet this creature who had loved and known her own beloved mother. “Very special.”
The Elemental led Arabel a short distance away to where a garden of lilies bloomed and small birds sang cheerful songs of the spring to come. The white light bathed the scene in a serene glow and a sense of peace pervaded Arabel’s mind. She sipped the tea gratefully; it served to wash away the dirt and panic and she began to feel herself again.
And then she remembered Eli, Zander, and the shield.
“We came to destroy the shield,” she ventured.
“The shield?” the Elemental repeated blankly.
“Yes, the evil magic of the Dorojenja,” Arabel informed him.
The Elemental’s face clouded with a dark fury. “The fever, you say, took Vio-letta?”
“Yes, Elemental.”
“The Dorojenja conjure evil fire! They would burn the old forests to the ground, cripple the humans, slay the animals - all so that their dark beast might roam freely, forsaking all that is natural and pure in this realm!”
The Elemental grabbed at Arabel’s arm but she could barely feel his touch, as the Elemental was a mere whisper of energy, barely physically manifest at all. Arabel wondered that he was able to provide her with a physical cup of tea when he himself was mostly space and light.
“Tell us how to defeat them, then,” Arabel beseeched him.
“Defeat them? You must annihilate them!” the Elemental thundered.
Arabel said nothing and waited until the being calmed again. She sipped her tea quietly.
“How did you chance upon an acquaintance with my mother?” Arabel queried, both to distract the creature and to quench her curiosity, after a moment had passed.
“It was long ago now, it must have been,” the Elemental began. He scratched his chin under the long white beard, remembering.
“She was foraging for berries in the forest. She saw me.” The Elemental smiled at the memory. “It was spring-time and she was as the spring herself – a beautiful maiden comprised of sunshine, a glorious bringer of the dawn. Vio-letta could see me - and most cannot - so I invited her to tea. And she came often, many times after that, until she one day, she ceased to come at all.”
The Elemental peered sadly at Arabel.
“A fever, you say?”
Arabel nodded.
“Yes. A deadly one.” Arabel didn’t mention the fact that both she and Eli had so recently come through that particular trial by fire as well, but she wondered now to herself if the Dorojenja
’s evil magic had had anything to do with it.
“The shield must be destroyed. You must do this for me,” the Elemental said to Arabel, his voice a command as opposed to a request.
“Gladly, sir, just tell me how.”
“Create the white ring of fire for protection. You must do this in a place you harbour only positive vibrations for. This is very important! The Dorojenja cannot pierce true-heartedness and they can only waylay the effects of honest magic. They have built their strength upon the darkness and the weakness of ego and deception; they know nothing of the magic of the heart.”
Arabel listened closely, transfixed by the Elemental’s voice. The rumble in it sounded like rainclouds and if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was in her room, watching excitedly as a wild, thrashing thunderstorm ripped through The Corvids.
“Burn the shield in the sacred flame. Burn it and any others you find bearing their crests of evil.”
“I will,” Arabel agreed. “I will do exactly as you ask.”
“Tell no one of your task. I charge you with this duty, daughter of Vio-letta. See that the evil dies with the shield and it darkens our forests no longer.”
“Why would the Dorojenja pick your tree for their ceremonial site, Elemental?”
“I am the root of the forest; destroy me and you destroy the protection we offer.” The Elemental sighed, a deep rumbling in his floating chest.
“I am the last of the Elementals, when I have gone, we shall seed this land no longer.”
“What exactly are you?” Arabel entreated the creature.
“I am the tree-blood, both the seed and the tree, the Oak spirit, the Elemental force of Nature.”
Arabel was still confused but decided to say nothing about her confusion. Instead she realized she had better return to Eli – he would be frantic with worry - and within this strange hollow of the tree, Arabel could sense nothing of any other place.
All that had been, seemed stripped away. All that remained was the still, white sky and the singing birds, and the booming laugh of the Elemental as he delighted in Arabel’s presence.
“I must return; my friends will be concerned,” Arabel said reluctantly.
The Elemental peered down at her. “You will come again,” he ordered and Arabel nodded.
“Most certainly, sir, I shall visit again.”
“Do not forsake me, small human.”
The Elemental held out the long golden cord and again it moved toward Arabel, slithering in the air toward her like a hypnotized reptile.
Arabel grasped the cord and felt the quick pull of it as it propelled her out of the white sky grove and through the dank tree roots of the gateway and plopped her out onto the snowy ground in front of the crooked tree.
“You will come again, when you destroy the Dorojenja! You will not forsake your quest,” the Elemental’s voice echoed in Arabel’s brain like recurring ripples, and then she heard nothing, nothing, nothing at all.
And then, out of a blank sphere of nothingness, Arabel perceived her own name.
Eli, calling her name. His voice shaken, not calm, not in control, calling her name quite desperately, in fact.
Arabel struggled to open her eyes but her lids felt so heavy. She moaned softly as she felt herself come back into her body, which was stiff and cold and she knew with a desolate certainty that her pretty lilac frock was most certainly and irrevocably ruined.
“Arabel!” Eli called to her again, and Arabel felt her head now; it was in Eli’s lap, his fingers stroked the side of her face, he rubbed her cold hands. Ira cawed loudly and Arabel could hear the relief in his cries.
“Eli,” Arabel responded weakly and she could feel the relief course through Eli at her voice.
“Arabel! You gave us quite a shock,” Eli said, his voice steadying.
“Where did you go?” Zander asked excitedly.
Arabel finally was able to open her eyes and glance around at her surroundings. She saw that they had moved her away from the crooked oak and Eli was sitting on a fallen log, and she was sprawled across him, partly balanced precariously on the log as well. Arabel moved to sit up, her brain clearing and her body settling into its normal rhythm once more.
“I went into the tree, where I was trapped; it was horrible! And then the Elemental came and fetched me and we traversed to some strange land with an endless white sky and a grove of oaks. He made me tea and spoke of my mother.”
“What does he say of the shield?” Zander wanted to know.
Arabel relayed the Elemental’s instructions as to how they must destroy the evil talisman and the three pondered where and when it would be best to do so.
“Shall we do it here, now?” Arabel asked.
“You are forgetting it must be in a place you feel only strong positive vibrations in,” Eli reminded her.
“We could do it in the Glen, if you are energetically compatible there,” Zander put in. “We will need to figure out how to transport the heavy thing, however; no small task.”
“We will need to return for it,” Eli suggested. “Bring a wagon, or a pallet with which to carry it, perhaps.”
Arabel glanced back at the tree. The last rays of daylight were hanging in small bursts at the top of the crooked oak. Orange and amber flame seemed to light up the sky as the sun prepared to relinquish the world to the dark.
The shield leaned against the tree, as it had before. It looked innocuously innocent.
“Let’s hide it,” Arabel said. “Anything with power that could be used against us we must hide until we are able to destroy.”
“Yes, but where best to leave it?” Zander pondered.
“Over there,” Arabel said decisively, pointing to a small thicket overgrown with rambunctious maisie vines. Rocks and boulders stood in between the predatory vines and it looked as though a small landslide had occurred recently, thus dislocating them to the thicket.
“We can camouflage it within the thicket, move some vines over it, prop up some boulders, no one will find it.”
They began immediately to transport the heavy shield to the thicket and ended up rolling it to the hiding spot. Arabel moved the fat vines easily around in the thicket and soon the shield was covered with vegetation, snow and rocks.
Relieved, the three quickly returned to their mounts and rode hastily away from the crooked oak and toward the path which led to Crow’s Nest Pass. The evening was clear and cold and Arabel saw thousands of glimmering stars in the indigo sky. She made a wish on the brightest one and wrapped her arms more snugly against Eli’s warm frame.
“I am a mess,” Arabel declared brightly, a sudden bubble of laughter overcoming her. “My poor, sad, ruined frock! How I will be able to manage invisibility from grandmother whilst covered in dirt and grime, I honestly cannot fathom!”
“You, missy, could also most certainly use a bath,” Eli concurred and Arabel gave him a sharp smack on the ribs.
Eli laughed and the rich sound of his delight warmed Arabel’s heart. She smiled in the dark and wished everyone could feel as loved as she did right at this moment.
Behind them, Zander grinned as well. He had a feeling that finding the shield meant they were one step closer to securing the safety of The Corvids, and he was pleasantly surprised to find his new companions as agreeable as he did. But then again, Zander got along easily with most everyone; he considered it his most valuable charm and it certainly came in handy whenever evil was afoot.
At the fork between Crow’s Nest Pass and Ravenswood Glen, Zander took his leave of Arabel and Eli after making plans to meet up the next day to discuss the transportation and destruction of the Dorojenja’s evil talisman. Arabel waited until she could no longer hear his horse before she spoke.
“I believe he knows more than he is telling us,” she said.
“Undoubtedly,” Eli agreed. “Zander will do as his brother commands and we will only be privy to whatever knowledge the Council decrees fit to tell us.”
“Hmm, I a
m quite certain that displeases me mightily,” Arabel remarked slowly, a note of rising speculation in her voice.
“You are not meant to like it,” Eli interjected. “Doesn’t mean that’s not how it’s going to play out however.”
“Then I shall do everything in my power to make sure we stay connected to the end of this, for Alice-May, and Klara.” Arabel shivered, picturing the stiff, dead limbs of the savaged girls in their forced macabre poses on the Great Torch.
“And I will assist you,” Eli promised.
When they reached the back gate of Arabel’s home, Eli dismounted and Arabel clambered down after him. Arabel turned to Eli and he held her closely, their bodies melding together in the deepening shadows, forehead to forehead, heart to heart.
Eli kissed her softly and Arabel pulled his head down closer, deepening the kiss so that their pulses raced, their blood heated, and the longing for further intimacy was a tangible presence between them.
“You haunt my dreams; I can no longer sleep for wanting you,” Eli breathed unsteadily against Arabel’s ear.
Arabel took Eli’s face in her hands and gazed deeply into his almond brown eyes. Love and desire were coursing through her veins with an insistence she did not want to ignore.
“Stay with me,” she said.
A pause ensued. The moment seemed to tick by in a tricky, slippery, slow-motion manner, and Arabel felt her senses on edge, her heart hammered against her ribs and her very skin ached with unfulfilled desire.
The back door of the house was suddenly banged open and Amelia Bodean was revealed as she stood in the doorframe, waving a glass in her hand and gesticulating wildly at Arabel.
“I knew it!” Amelia Bodean exclaimed and Arabel could tell that her grandmother was quite far gone into her private, rum-fuelled escape and Arabel knew that events, in short order, could potentially become very messy indeed.
Arabel moved toward her grandmother and Eli grabbed her hand, holding her back as Amelia Bodean launched herself at him and threw the remaining contents of her glass in his face. Eli was instantly doused in rum and his eyes stung from the alcohol.
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