The Cinnabar Box (Guardians of the Earth)

by ILIL ARBEL

  THE CINNABAR BOX

  Book One of the Series:

  Guardians of the Earth

  ILIL ARBEL

  Copyright @ 2011, Ilil Arbel

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Published by MediaBlvd Publishing

  Visit our website at www.mediablvd.com

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Title: The Cinnabar Box

  Date of Publication: June 2011

  The Guardians of the Earth series is dedicated to

  Lilah Abigail Arbel

  May you always retain a love of adventure

  and a sense of wonder

  With Many thanks to:

  Alan Michael Arbel

  The Cinnabar Box could have never been written without our many discussions regarding the Forest

  David Prosser, Lord of Bouldnor

  For his friendship, encouragement,

  and his willingness to share Welsh Magic

  Dr. Kenn Gold

  For inviting me to join the wonderful

  mediablvd.com organization

  This is an adventure/fantasy story, but ecology and mythology are strong elements in the entire series. This is important since the Wicca consider themselves Guardians of the Earth. All humans, beasts, and plants, real, mythological or historical, are, to the best of my knowledge, researched and correct.

  Selected Books by Ilil Arbel

  ________________________________________

  The Ecology of Nature Spirits (2010)

  The New Chronicles of Barset: (2009)

  Miss Glamora Tudor! (2007)

  The Lemon Tree (2005)

  Strange and Curious Plants (2004)

  Maimonides: A Spiritual Biography (2001)

  Witchcraft (1997)

  Medicinal Plants (1993)

  Favorite Wildflowers (1991)

  Favorite Roses (1989)

  Chapter One

  Crash! A shower of little boxes, bits of jewelry and other small antiques fell on Donna’s head like glittering rain.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “I wanted to reach the shelf, and my glasses slipped and I tried to catch them – I just can’t do anything right!”

  Donna’s mother came from the other side of the antique shop. She looked at Donna with resigned disapproval.

  “Nonsense, the place is a dusty mess anyway,” said old Mr. Rose, the owner. “Here, Donna, take this little box for your collection. It can’t be opened, but it’s pretty, isn’t it?”

  The box shone like a rough, dark ruby under the store’s dim light, its red surface deeply carved with tiny animal figures. It must be ancient, thought Donna, speechless with admiration. Some of the carvings are a little worn and glossy, she thought. Many hands had rubbed it through the centuries… how mysterious… a treasure inside, quite possibly…

  “Really, Mr. Rose, you shouldn’t reward her for being clumsy,” said Mom. “The box must be quite expensive.”

  “I can’t sell it if it doesn’t open, can I? I have had it for a long time, and these animals are beginning to annoy me! Anyway, Mrs. Williams, leave the child alone, it was just an accident,” said the old man, winking at Donna.

  “There may be something expensive inside, though,” said Donna reluctantly.

  “Finder’s keeper’s,” said the old man. “Whatever’s inside is yours, too. The box is made of Cinnabar. It’s an ancient art they still use in China, layering the substance on a base, and then carving it.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Rose! It’s so beautiful. I’ll try not to break anything next time Mom brings me here,” said Donna.

  “I think you’re getting too old to tag along when I visit shops for my clients,” said Mom icily as they went to the car. “I hope you’ll learn to behave more maturely at summer camp.”

  Donna sighed. The awful summer camp again. These dreadful girls, slim and pretty and almost grown up, same as those in the obnoxious private school she attended all year. As she entered the car she secretly wiped a tear. However, nothing escaped Mom.

  “I’ll never understand why you can’t appreciate the advantages you are getting,” said Mom. “What I wouldn’t have given for this camp when I was your age…”

  “But you know you were pretty and could play sports, and –”

  “You could be pretty if you exercised and took care of your hair,” interrupted Mom, “and the junk food you love doesn’t help either your figure or your complexion. Anyway, I have no choice. I’m attending the Italian Design Show and Dad is staying the summer in Europe as usual. What do you expect me to do with you?”

  Donna wiped her eyes fiercely. “Maybe I can stay with Grandma in Florida?”

  “Grandma is not up to looking after kids anymore and you know it.”

  “I wish Aunt Yolanda were back,” said Donna sadly. “Oh, how I wish she were back. I’m sure she would have wanted me.”

  Mom turned and looked at her. Her enormous blue eyes flashed with fury.

  “Aunt Yolanda can’t break a zoological expedition to the Rain Forest in South America just to take care of a thirteen-year-old who should know better,” she said slowly and quietly.

  “I know. But if she were here she would have wanted me to stay with her. We have such a good time when I do, really.”

  Mom didn’t answer. The silence almost crushed Donna. She clutched the Cinnabar box in a sweaty hand and gazed at the manicured lawns and well-groomed trees in the huge gardens surrounding the big houses, all planted with exactly the same flowers.

  At home she went upstairs to her room and put the little box gently on the night stand, dusting it first with a tissue. The tiny carvings of camels, donkeys, lizards and other unusual animals inhabited a little world full of magical beasts, and it didn’t matter one bit that it couldn’t be opened. Perhaps it would open if a prince touched it after a beautiful princess released him from enchantment, and inside they will find their wedding bands, hidden there for at least two thousand years by an evil wizard from another planet… “Stop!” Donna said firmly to herself. “These stupid dreams are exactly what gets you in trouble all the time. Princesses and wizards! Grow up!”

  She turned on the T.V., kicked off her sneakers, and sat on the bed for a long time, clicking channels and staring at the screen without paying attention. Suddenly the doorbell rang, shattering the silence. Quick footsteps, a cheerful, familiar voice, and for a moment Donna simply did not believe her ears. It just couldn’t be!

  She jumped off the bed, stumbled on one of the sneakers, fell down, dropped her glasses, fumbled to pick them up, ran downstairs two steps at a time and burst into the living room, straight into the arms of Aunt Yolanda.

  “How come you’re here, my dear?” Mom was just saying. “We thought you planned so stay at least another month in South America.”

  “We finished early. I came home last week and guess what I did! No, you’d never guess. I purchased a house in the country! No more city life for me. I intend to do absolutely nothing until next fall, so naturally I came to invite Donna to stay the summer. She must help me decorate the house. It’s enormous!”

  Mom was quiet, almost motionless. Donna suddenly felt cold all over, her palms moist and her heart beating wildly. Aunt Yolanda smiled pleasantly. Could it be that she didn’t know how much Mom detested her? Why did Mom hate her, anyway? Aunt Yolanda was Dad’s sister, after all!


  “That’s sweet of you, Yolanda, but I’ve already registered and paid for her summer camp. It starts next week. I don’t know…”

  “Oh, they’ll refund, darling. They always have a long waiting list for these fancy camps,” said Aunt Yolanda. “And just think of the advantages! Donna will meet the children of such influential families at my new place! You have no idea who are the members of the country club, and most of Donna’s age group go there instead of summer camps. These people just don’t use summer camps. Very good for her, socially, I think. Why don’t you run to your room, Donna, while I try to persuade your mom? You probably have to start thinking about the clothes you’ll take no matter where you go. If you come with me you’ll need some really elegant clothes.”

  “I got her a perfect wardrobe for the camp,” started Mom with some enthusiasm. Donna left the room.

  Donna grabbed all her clothes from the closet and threw them feverishly on the bed. She had no idea what to pack, and the suitcase Mom gave her was awfully large. She sat on the bed and stared at the mess. The new clothes were ugly and she hated them all, but looking in the mirror she decided that no clothes could make her pretty, anyway. Why didn’t she look like her tall, blond mother? She tried to comb her short, fuzzy red hair to make it smooth, like Mom’s, without much success. Sometimes Mom looked as if she were made of glass, beautiful, almost glowing, but brittle. Donna wouldn’t have minded looking like her aunt, either. Aunt Yolanda had a lovely face, lots of wavy auburn hair, and a great figure, though she wasn’t as thin as Mom. But then, Aunt Yolanda ate real food, and cakes and sandwiches, while Mom ate only salads and fruit.

  A soft knock on the door, and Aunt Yolanda walked in, her emerald green eyes shining with victory. “Let’s pack your bags and leave before Mom changes her mind,” she said, laughing. “And take all the elegant clothes, even though we both know you’ll never wear them. I don’t want to hurt Mom’s feelings, she took so much trouble with your wardrobe, so we’ll buy you some real clothes when we get home.” Donna jumped and hugged Aunt Yolanda with all her might. She wasn’t going to camp!

  Chapter Two

  Aunt Yolanda’s old van glided smoothly over the country road. Donna was quiet, but the silence, this time, was friendly. The relief drained her of all emotion.

  “You’ve no idea,” she finally said. “This vile camp. I was scared to go.”

  “Don’t be mad at Mom,” said Aunt Yolanda seriously. “Her business is demanding, she has worked hard to build it from scratch, and the Italian shows are incredibly important. And you may hate fancy camps and schools, but Mom thinks it’s good for you to mingle with the right crowd.”

  “Yes, she wants me to have what she calls ‘advantages’ and she buys me stuff and takes me to all these concerts and shows. But I think she is bored with me. I am not pretty, and I don’t like all these social things and I can’t stand the daughters of her snooty friends.”

  “Well, some day you’ll be very beautiful, Donna, not just pretty. You’ll see. And I don’t think Mom is bored with you, either, it’s just that the two of you don’t feel the same way about various things. You nevertheless love each other very much, and it will be better when you are older. Anyway, let’s forgive Mom for wishing to give you a good future, and think about other things. I came to get you not only because I love spending the summer with you, but because the time has come to start your training in the family business.”

  “What family business? Dad is a diplomat, Mom is an interior designer, and you’re a zoologist! There is no family business!”

  “Yes there is,” said Aunt Yolanda calmly. “We’re Witches.”

  Donna laughed. “With broomsticks and pointed hats and long noses? And maybe some bubbling pots?”

  “What a medieval picture you paint,” said Aunt Yolanda disgustedly. “Witches are servants of the Earth, not hags on brooms!”

  Donna looked at her with amazement. It must be a joke, of course, the way they always made up stories together, but Aunt Yolanda seemed oddly serious.

  “How do I know when you need me?” asked Aunt Yolanda. “You must have noticed that I always come when you are in trouble.” She pulled the car to the side of the road and parked. From inside her shirt she took a heavy silver locket, and opened its little hinge. Inside was a translucent pink gemstone.

  “Now, think hard, Donna. Say to yourself: I wish Aunt Yolanda were here. I really wish she were here. I’m in trouble.”

  Donna tried. She ran the thought through her mind two or three times. Suddenly the stone darkened, turning garnet red with fiery flashes. Donna jumped back, losing her thought. The stone slowly returned to the original pink.

  “This is how I know,” said Aunt Yolanda gently. “Whenever you are unhappy, the stone turns red, and becomes a little warmer.”

  “Does Mom know?” whispered Donna, clutching her hands together to stop their shaking.

  “No. The Witchcraft trait runs in Dad’s side of the family, though he did not inherit it, and doesn’t even know about it. I was informed when the time came for me, and then trained by my Great Aunt Matilda. What a truly magnificent Witch she was… I wish you could have met her. Anyway, unless someone suspects you have inherited the Wicca talent, you are not told. This is what we call ourselves, incidentally. The true, old name is Wicca, not Witchcraft.”

  “Does it mean I’m a Witch?”

  “You have the potential, otherwise the stone couldn’t react to your thoughts. But years of training are necessary, and you succeed only if you truly wish to devote your life to this work.”

  “I wanted to be a rock star,” said Donna, “but this is better. Would I be able to turn people into frogs?”

  Aunt Yolanda laughed as she returned to the road. “Most likely you’ll protect and defend real frogs… look, you can see the house from here!”

  Donna saw an old house, with roofs and garrets and terraces jutting out like afterthoughts. Enormous, ancient conifers touched their foliage above the roof, protecting the house like a green blanket. Aunt Yolanda parked the van in the dilapidated driveway, and as Donna jumped out she smelled the wild roses, honeysuckles and pines. The soft rustling of leaves and bird songs were the only audible sounds.

  “This is great… when you mentioned the country club to Mom I thought you bought a house in the suburbs. Is there really a country club? Do I have to go there?”

  “The country club definitely exists, and I became a member in case your Mom wants to call us there. You know I never really lie. But it’s an hour drive from here, and no, you don’t have to go. We have so much work to do, decorating the house!”

  “The house is splendid just the way it is,” said Donna. “I must explore.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll make a snack in the meantime. Just watch out for the rickety stairs.”

  She explored room after room, some filled with dusty and comfortable old furniture, some completely empty. Every window opened into the fragrant canopy of trees and vines, and cool, green light poured in. Climbing to the second floor on the half-broken stairs, Donna entered a small, bright, and cheerful room that she knew immediately must be her own.

  Two opened windows allowed the heavy pine branches to grow inside and press against the walls, making the room look like a tree house. On one of the branches hung a tiny antique lantern with a candle stuck in it. A white bedspread and a comfortable pile of pillows covered the bed. Two chairs, a chest of drawers, a mirror and an empty bookcase, all made of natural wood, completed the furniture. The green afternoon light moved with the branches of the trees, creating little patches and pools, constantly dancing, rolling and changing.

  “Donna, come have your snack!”

  Almost reluctantly, she went downstairs, and Aunt Yolanda asked, “Did you like your room?”

  “It’s awesome,” said Donna. “I just love it. But how did you know that I really could come? You prepared the room for me specially, I can tell!”

  “Ah, well, let’s say I had a hunch. And even if yo
u couldn’t make it this time, I had plans for the future. There are some wonderful schools here, you know. How would you like to live with me until you finish high school?”

  Donna was speechless. Her mouth opened and her jaw hung without any dignity or style.

  “Your parents will let you stay here if I worked regularly from the house. I have three books lined up with my publisher, and the Museum people don’t care if I send them their monthly publication via E-mail. Let’s face facts, darling. Your Dad lives almost permanently in Europe. Your Mom is dreadfully busy. I think they feel bad about how little time they can spend with you, but these are their lives, and they really can’t change now. I, on the other hand, have all the time in the world, and my favorite activity is raising you… and I’m family, after all, and they trust me, even if they don’t always approve of me. If I told them you could go to school with the children of the ‘best families’ of the state, and have me take care of you, why not?”

  Donna started crying. Aunt Yolanda hugged her. “Do you really want me? You won’t be able to travel to the Rain Forest if I stay with you,” whimpered Donna, wiping her eyes.

  “Haven’t you guessed yet? I never go to the Rain Forest. At least not the one in South America. This trip I went about my Witch business to a different forest altogether. Next time I go on a trip you can come along, if you agree to stay with me.”