Oak And Mist (The Ambeth Chronicles Book 1)

by Helen Jones

  ‘Well, there’s obviously something,’ said her mother. Alma said nothing, just chewed her sandwich and avoided her mother’s gaze, wishing she had never said anything. But Eleanor just waited, her lips folded. Finally Alma sighed, rolling her eyes.

  ‘Fine!’ she said. ‘I just…I saw this girl from my school, Ellery, at the park and, well, she was kind of – oh, it’s nothing, it doesn’t matter.’ She took another bite of her sandwich. But her mother didn’t look like she was going to leave any time soon.

  ‘Ellery was what?’ asked Eleanor, concern in her blue eyes. ‘Is she causing problems for you?’

  ‘Oh god, Mum, just leave it! It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.’ The last thing she needed was for her mother to get involved. ‘Mum,’ she went on, taking another mouthful of sandwich, wanting to change the subject. ‘I need to ask you about my bracelet.’

  ‘Your bracelet? Why, what do you want to know?’ Eleanor’s face changed and Alma picked it up immediately. Her mother didn’t want to talk about her bracelet. Well, that was just too bad.

  ‘It came from my father, right? From his family?’

  Eleanor stared at her a moment before speaking. ‘Yes, that’s right. He gave it to me when we were… courting.’ Alma looked at her mother curiously. An old-fashioned term, courting; it brought to mind chaste walks in the park, stolen kisses and scented letters. While the reality would have been much more intense than that – Alma’s existence was proof of it. Pursing her lips, Alma realised just how little she knew about her mother and her life before Alma was born.

  ‘So… is it an heirloom? Do you know where it came from, how he got it?’

  ‘I think, maybe, his father gave it to him. All I know is that it’s very old,’ Eleanor dissembled, obviously hoping to close the matter. But there was no way Alma was letting it go, not after the day she’d had.

  ‘But, surely you know something more – didn’t he tell you anything about it?’

  Eleanor closed her eyes for a moment, then she opened them, letting out a sigh. ‘Your father gave the bracelet to me not long after we met,’ she said quietly. ‘He said it would protect me and, well, I humoured him because it was just so romantic, you know, that he wanted me to be safe.’ Her voice grew wistful, her blue eyes soft as her thoughts moved back into the past. ‘When I was pregnant with you he made me promise I would pass it on to you when you were old enough. It meant a great deal to him; he loved you so much, even though you weren’t born yet. So in giving it to you I am honouring his memory, which is why I want you to wear it. You are very like him, you know.’ At this Eleanor stopped, tears obvious in her eyes and Alma, her irritation gone, went to hug her mother.

  ‘I wish I knew him,’ she said.

  ‘So do I, Alma, more than you can imagine,’ said her mother, her voice unsteady. She pulled back to look at Alma and smoothed her long red hair. ‘You’re so like him.’ Her voice choked up and Alma hugged her again, shocked. She’d figured she must look like her dad, but as she’d never seen even a picture of him, it was hard to know. This was already more than her mother had ever told her about him. She let go of Eleanor and looked at her.

  ‘I’m sorry if I worried you, Mum – really I am.’

  Smiling through her tears, Eleanor shook her daughter a little. ‘I know you are – you just have to ring me, OK? I just need to know you’re all right.’

  Vanishing Act

  ‘Hey, what’s up? Did you hear what I just said?’ Sara, sitting on Alma’s bed, broke off with a frown and poked Alma in the side. Then she grabbed the controller and turned down the music playing in the background, waiting for Alma to answer her.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Alma, who was lying back, gazing at the ceiling. ‘I am listening, it’s just, last night at the park…’ She stopped, tilting her head forward to look at Sara.

  ‘What? Did… something happen to you? You’ve not really been yourself since I’ve been here.’ Sara made a face. ‘And I’ve been going on about Josh this whole time.’

  ‘Oh no, I mean, it’s totally exciting about him,’ Alma cut in. She sat up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. ‘It’s… well… I had another run in with Ellery last night.’

  ‘What!?’ shrieked Sara, pushing Alma in the shoulder. ‘And you didn’t even tell me?’

  ‘Well,’ said Alma, rubbing her shoulder, ‘you haven’t really given me the chance to - but,’ she continued hastily, seeing Sara’s hurt look, ‘I was going to tell you, I promise. I just wanted to hear your news first.’

  ‘Forget about my news!’ cried Sara. ‘Tell me what happened. Oh, I can’t believe you ran into her again after yesterday. Did she have another go at you?’ Sara examined Alma as though she expected to see bruises forming before her very eyes. Alma laughed, gently pushing Sara back. Then her face grew serious.

  ‘She did, and I don’t think school’s going to be much fun for the next little while, at least while she’s around.’

  ‘That bitch!’ said Sara. ‘Just wait till I see her-’

  ‘There’s nothing you can do, Sara,’ Alma interrupted. ‘She hates me.’

  ‘So, what happened?’ asked Sara, her pleasant face creased with worry.

  ‘Well, I had gone to the park just to walk, you know, clear my head…’ Alma related the events that led up to her being pushed through the Gate, stopping short at that point. Sara was aghast.

  ‘That absolute cow – who does she think she is? Did… did they hurt you?’

  ‘No, well, that’s the weird part. They sort of, um herded me into the woods but then I-‘ Alma stopped. Hating herself, she decided to lie. There was just no way Sara would believe what had happened next. Rubbing her face with her hands, she went on. ‘So, I somehow managed to get away from them and, er, just ran home.’

  ‘Alma, why didn’t you ring me! Oh my god, that is just insane!’

  Alma shrugged. “Well, my phone had run down and it was late and I was a bit shaken up. I’m sorry.’

  ‘No, no, that’s fine,’ said Sara, obviously distressed by Alma’s story. Her brow furrowed as she considered what might happen next. ‘I totally understand. But that’s just unbelievable – what is her problem?’

  ‘I know, right? I kind of feel sick about going to school on Monday. What am I going to do?’ said Alma.

  Flopping back on the bed, Sara looked across at her friend. ‘This is not good,’ she said. ‘But, whatever happens, whatever she does next, we’ll face it together, OK?’ Alma smiled across at her.

  ‘Thanks,’ she replied, ‘but I don’t want you to-’

  ‘Get involved?’ Sara raised her eyebrows. ‘I am involved, Alma, and there’s no way you’re dealing with this alone.’

  ‘Well, thanks,’ said Alma. Gratitude and love for her friend mingled with guilt at her secret and she felt awful about not being able to tell her. She poked Sara in the side, causing her to squeal. ‘So, tell me more about Josh?’

  ***

  Alma woke bleary-eyed Monday morning. She barely had time to wash, change and gulp down some breakfast before running out the door - not the best start to what was sure to be a trying day. She met Sara on the front steps of the school, and as the two girls walked in through the large glass doors a pit of dread formed in Alma’s stomach.

  ‘It’s all right, Alma,’ whispered Sara, staying close to her. ‘I can’t see her anywhere.’ She scanned the crowded foyer, teachers and students everywhere. ‘Although… that’s odd.’

  ‘What’s that?’ said Alma, instantly on alert. Sara jerked her head, signalling across the foyer to where Ellery’s two sidekicks stood against the wall, deep in conversation. Nonplussed, Alma looked at Sarah.

  ‘Well, where’s Ellery?’ Sara said, her expression perplexed. ‘They go everywhere together. Maybe she’s sick today?’

  Alma shrugged. Then, looking again at the two girls, she narrowed her eyes. Grabbing Sara by the arm, she started across the foyer towards them.

  ‘What are you doing Alma?’ Sara hissed, fran
tic. ‘Are you seriously going to talk to them?’

  ‘It’s two against two,’ shot back Alma, ‘and besides, what are they going to do here?’

  Fronting up to the two girls against the wall, Alma stared at them, arms folded and one eyebrow raised, Sara at her side. The girls’ conversation petered out as they turned to look at Alma, clearly irritated at the interruption.

  ‘Yes?’ said Dee, her tone dismissive. ‘Can we help you with something?’

  ‘Actually, you can,’ shot back Alma. ‘You can tell me what your problem was in the park on Friday.’ She tapped her foot, waiting for an answer.

  Dee looked at Nicole who shook her blonde head, looking confused. Dee shrugged, then turned her dark eyes on Alma, who almost laughed. Really, this was some act they were putting on.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said Dee, frowning.

  ‘Yeah, we haven’t been to the park in weeks,’ put in Nicole, her eyes hard.

  ‘But… you were there. With Ellery. You threatened me!’ said Alma, the wind taken from her sails.

  ‘Why would I waste my time threatening you?’ Dee asked, her tone scornful. ‘And with… Who did you say – Ellery?’

  She looked at her Nicole as if for assistance but the other girl just shrugged and looked bored. Her black lined eyes lit up for a moment. ‘Oh, do you mean that girl who used to go here? Remember, the pretty one – green eyes.’ Looking at Alma she said flatly, ‘Haven’t seen her in weeks.’

  ‘Wait, used to go here?’ interjected Sara. ‘What the hell are you on about? You were with her on Friday!’

  Nicole just stared back at her. ‘Are you sure? Cos I don’t remember that.’ Then she turned back to Dee and they started up their conversation again. Sara, her mouth open in outrage, looked as though she was about to give them a piece of her mind. Alma grabbed her by the arm.

  ‘C’mon’ she hissed. ‘Forget it. Let’s go.’

  ‘But Alma –‘ protested Sara as she tried to pull away, still glaring at the other girls.

  ‘Let’s go!’ repeated Alma. ‘Talk about it later. Something weird is going on here.’

  ‘Well, obviously,’ said Sara, as Alma dragged her away. ‘Freak,’ she heard Nicole say as they headed to their lockers, Alma’s mind working furiously.

  ‘Who do they think they are, just turning their backs on us like that,’ Sara said heatedly, slamming her locker closed. ‘And,’ she went on, leaning on her locker door as Alma finished getting her books, ‘why don’t they remember Ellery? Now that is weird.’

  But things were about to get even weirder. As the week went on, hardly anyone, it seemed, missed or could even remember Ellery. Alma and Sara couldn’t understand it – she had been the most beautiful girl at school, despite her obvious personality problems. How could she just disappear like that? But try as they might, they couldn’t get anyone they knew to remember her other than vaguely. ‘Oh her,’ a few people said, ‘yeah, I remember her, didn’t she move away?’ Some thought she had left school, while others were unsure she had ever been there at all. Frustrated, both girls eventually gave up. After all, the important thing was that she wasn’t there to bother them any more.

  ***

  Six Elders of Light and Dark, the most powerful in Ambeth, stood in a ceremonial circle in the Great Hall. Thorion called them to order, marking each of them with his stern blue gaze before moving to the centre of the circle. He waited a moment before speaking, until he had their complete attention.

  ‘I have called you here on a matter of grave importance to both Dark and Light. The child of the Prophecy has been found.’ He paused to let his words sink in, let their impact be felt.

  Artos spoke first for the Light. He was strong postured despite the silver in his hair, his lined face filled with hope. ‘Do you know this to be true, Thorion? Did you see the child yourself?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Thorion, his expression jubilant, ‘and I have spoken with her.’

  It was the muscled and armoured Denoris who spoke next. The Dark Lord’s golden hair shone in the light from the windows as he stood with arms folded. ‘So, the child is a girl? When, may I ask, did she make her appearance in Ambeth?’

  His voice was deceptively soft and Thorion was immediately on guard. ‘She came through the Gate yesterday, venturing into the gardens but no further,’ he said, framing his words with care. ‘Caleb has been charged with her safekeeping and so will bring her to us once she returns.’

  ‘Caleb,’ said Lord Denoris, flatly. ‘Ever you favour him with your tasks. Should not some other boy be given the chance to serve you once in a while?’

  Thorion regarded Denoris steadily. ‘You mean, someone like your son? Caleb was available to assist me in this matter. Deryck, as I recollect, was elsewhere.’

  ‘But this is wonderful news! ‘Adara interjected, her soft musical voice ringing like a chime in the vaulted hall. ‘Who is she, Thorion? What is she like?’

  Thorion favoured the Lady of Light with a smile. ‘She is tall, with red hair. About fifteen years old, I think. Somewhat bewildered, as would be expected, but all in all, most promising. She will be back, I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Fifteen? And she had red hair?’ asked Lord Artos, suddenly alert.

  ‘Yes.’ Thorion paused for a moment, knowing what it would mean to the other Elder, but it had to be faced. ‘And she was wearing a talaith bracelet, with a blue stone.’

  The older Lord took in a sharp breath, closing his eyes for a moment. Adara placed her hand on his arm, her lovely face sympathetic.

  ‘So it seems, Artos, that all is not lost after all,’ said the elegant Lord Cedran, his tone sly. A spasm of grief passed over Artos’ noble features and across the circle Meredan glared at Cedran, his dark eyes fierce.

  ‘You know not of what you speak!’

  ‘Oh, does he not?’ said Denoris, seeming highly amused by the exchange.

  ‘Enough!’ said Thorion in a commanding tone, fixing Cedran and Denoris with a hard stare. ‘This is a discussion for another time. What is important is that the girl be allowed to choose of her own free will, that she not be told anything of who she is until the time is right. I believe this is the only way.’

  ‘But Thorion,’ exclaimed Artos, ‘surely…’

  ‘I am sorry, Lord Artos. These are my wishes on this matter and I would ask all of you,’ he looked at each Elder in turn, ‘to go along with them. You are all aware that as a Council we decided this long ago – that when the Prophecy was fulfilled it was to be done freely. Meeting the girl has done nothing to change this.’ Seeing each of them nod as he looked around the circle, Thorion felt relieved, though his face gave nothing away. He studiously avoided the gaze of Lord Artos; the hurt in his eyes was hard to take, but he must not falter.

  ‘So you believe she is the one who would help to restore the Regalia?’ This was Gwenene, splendid in azure brocade, her blue eyes narrowed. ‘What guarantee do you have of this?’

  ‘Only that she is here,’ replied Thorion, ‘in the right place at the right time. If the Dark still followed the skylore you would also know of this.’

  His words obviously stung. Gwenene tossed her dark hair and turned to exchange a glance with Lord Denoris, who had tensed beside her. He looked at Thorion, his green eyes hard.

  ‘And does she have a name, this mysterious girl?’ he asked.

  ‘Her name is Alma,’ replied Thorion. ‘And, until she comes to choose, she is under my protection. Please bear this in mind.’

  ‘And if she chooses the Dark?’ This was from Cedran, smiling to see Thorion’s momentary discomfort at the question.

  But the High King rallied. ‘Then it will have been her choice to make. But surely, Lord Cedran, you can see the benefits to both sides if the Regalia is returned. Its loss affects us all, do you not agree?’ Thorion remained outwardly civil, though inside his anger was growing. ‘And,’ he went on, turning to include all the Elders, ‘I trust I can count on your discretion in this matter, until the time
comes for the girl to be named as part of the Prophecy.’

  ‘And when will that be, Thorion?’ asked Meredan in his deep voice, white teeth flashing in his dark face.

  ‘Why, in the coming week, I expect. When she returns to us.’

  ‘If she returns, don’t you mean?’ interjected Denoris, his expression annoyed. ‘You have no assurance she will come back here, other than her word. If I had been the one to meet her at the Gate, I would have bound her to our cause there and then!’

  ‘Then it is fortunate for us all that you did not meet her!’ shot back Thorion. ‘We all know your binding methods are not always… gentle, do we not, Lord Denoris?’

  ‘But you cannot deny that I get results, Thorion.’ This last was said with a half smile, while Cedran laughed out loud, earning a glare from Lord Artos. Thorion called the circle back to order – so much power in one place meant that their meetings often degenerated into shouting matches, neither side willing to cede. Still, he was adamant that no one was to interfere with Alma’s right to choose.

  ***

  Later that evening, sitting in his private chambers, Thorion heard a soft knock at the door. He had dismissed his servant, wanting to have time alone; now he wondered who it was had come to disturb him. ‘Enter,’ he called softly, and the door slowly swung open to admit the graceful figure of Adara, still in her council robes. She carefully latched the door behind her before moving towards him, her steps light on the fine soft rug. The flickering firelight played on the sumptuous fabric of her gown and her delicate cheekbones. Rising from his chair Thorion kissed her in greeting. He offered her a seat before pouring her a drink from the silver flagon on the nearby table. Cool droplets misting the shining metal hinted at the rich wine within.

  ‘Welcome, my dear,’ he said, handing her the goblet. ‘It is a pleasure as always to see you.’

  ‘Thorion,’ she said, her musical voice low. ‘I am sorry to disturb you at this late hour.’

  ‘It is of no concern – I was still awake, as you can see,’ he said as he sat down, regarding her fondly. He could see, by the slight furrow in her brow, that something was on her mind, and as she sat down she sighed as though letting out a breath long held. They had been friends for many years, had shared many late nights talking and drinking, though it had gone no further. Sometimes Thorion wondered why; he also wondered if Adara thought the same. Smiling a little at the thought, the High King returned his focus to the woman sitting opposite, relaxed now in her velvet chair and sipping her wine appreciatively.