by S McPherson
Inhaling, Lexovia savours the musky tang of beer, the heated whiff of sausage and the stench of manure mixed with grass noting how even the grass smells different here.
She glances at the clock on the bedside table. It is not like the clocks they are shown to use in Humanitorium. This one is box shaped and the numbers are written in block letters; no ticking hands or circle of numbers.
Lexovia reads the time, ‘Seven thirty.’ Her innate clock hasn’t worked effectively since she left Coldivor. Only a few short days had left her completely out of sorts. She rakes a hand through her hair. It’s almost time to get Natahniel from Orchard Carvery, the New Year’s festivities already underway in the Bar & Grill. Yet for some reason, she can’t seem to leave the room. Mindlessly, she fidgets with the strap of her dress and the small golden hoops in her ears, anything to keep her from biting her nails like she usually would when feeling out of sorts.
There is a brisk tap on the door before Jude swans in, not waiting to be asked. He wears crisp black trousers and the sleeves of his white shirt are rolled to just below his elbows.
‘Come in,’ Lexovia calls, sardonically. ‘It’s a good thing I’m dressed.’
‘Good for who, I wonder,’ Jude raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching to a smile.
Lexovia doesn’t offer him a reply, barely sparing him a second glance as she takes another look in the mirror, rubbing smudged lipstick from her teeth and making sure, for the hundredth time, that her hair is appropriately spiked. Her stomach is aflutter at the thought of bringing Nathaniel to this place, to Feranvil; an under-earth world. At the time, her invitation had seemed polite and a part of her was looking forward to seeing him again. But perhaps that was selfish. She hadn’t stopped to consider how discovering this place might affect him.
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ Jude stands by the door, hands clasped in front of him. Lexovia finally deigns to look at him in the mirror, startled to see that he actually looks quite handsome.
‘My thoughts are worth well more than a penny.’ She blows her fringe from her eyes and wriggles her shoulders, attempting to release the tension. ‘So?’ She does a little twirl in her opal, backless gown, sewn by Mr Reading, the farms tailor. It clings to her body like rippling water, sliding off her hips to fall like rain around her ankles. It is a lot more feminine than she’s used to but she decides a new realm, a new year, could well be cause for a new style, at least for one night. ‘What do you think?’
Jude clutches his heart, staggering, his gaze exaggeratedly wistful, ‘stunning.’
She lifts her eyes to the ceiling but smiles all the same, before returning to the mirror. ‘Are you sure the Orchard Carvery isn’t far?’ she asks. It has been days now but Jude has made no offer to accompany her Up-Top like she wishes he would. She cannot help wondering if he feels her inviting Nathaniel was a bad idea. Aside from the fact that Nathaniel may be entirely overwhelmed, there’s also the issue that, the more people who know about Feranvil, the more in danger its residents are.
Lexovia frowns at her reflection. Nathaniel wouldn’t betray them. He isn’t like the Corporeal who shun her and her kind. He will not think her mad when she brings him to a rock in the ground. Of course not, leaping into ominous holes under rocks in the earth is completely normal. She shakes her head.
‘Want me to come with you?’ Jude offers, no doubt reading her stress like words inked on her skin. He always seems to; reading every emotion and change in her like flipping through the pages in a book. He leans easily against the wall, arms folded across his chest. His boots near sparkle as the light bounces off the freshly polished leather. Lexovia doesn’t doubt his mother is behind their glow. Jude has far too many thoughts knocking about in his head, to be concerned with matters like appearance.
Lexovia shrugs, afraid to let her dependence show. Strength and power, those are what matter, the values drilled into her for most of her life. Any weakness, any crack must be shielded, lest the enemy pry it open and by breaking her, break down the empires.
‘If you want,’ she says noncommittally.
Jude raises an eyebrow as he strolls over to the window and peers out. ‘In that case, I’ll stay here.’ A smirk plays around his mouth as he traces a pattern on the window pane and Lexovia scowls.
‘Why the face?’ he asks, not turning to look at her. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’
Lexovia does not respond, her face still twisted.
‘Say it,’ he presses, noting the quiver of her lips. ‘You know Lexovia, in vulnerability there is beauty. Having the courage to admit one’s weakness is a different kind of strength.’
Lexovia only snarls and at this, Jude chuckles.
‘Well?’
‘Well what?’ he purrs, addressing her reflection in the window.
‘Are you going to make me beg?’
He turns to her, his eyes bright like stardust. ‘Only a little.’
Lexovia shakes her head. ‘It’s just, I haven’t the foggiest idea what we did to get out of this place.’
Jude nods sympathetically, ‘Then you’ll definitely need some help.’
Lexovia struggles to hide her growl when he plunks himself in the seat by the window, throwing his legs over the arm, looking set for the night. He’s so smug, as if he’s won. As if the only way for her to get him to do what she wants is to ask him, to plead and admit her vulnerability. But Lexovia has no such intention. Strength and power. Hand either of them over and you may as well, gift the enemy the blade with which to strike you down.
Slowly, thoughtfully, she saunters towards him. ‘I know we used some sort of powder,’ she recalls, tapping her finger against her lower lip.
Sighing, Jude closes his eyes, utterly at ease. ‘That we did.’
‘A powder I don’t have.’
‘You do not.’
‘And we had to be around water,’ she adds perching on the seat beside him.
Jude makes a hmm sound in response, throwing a listless arm over her waist.
‘But I can’t say I remember what next.’ At this Jude says nothing. Lexovia rolls her eyes. He really thinks he’s going to make her ask. The proud little weirdo will accept nothing less—a worthy opponent, and yet...
Without warning, Lexovia thrusts her fist into his stomach. Strength and power.
‘Ow!’ He hollers, clutching where she struck and spluttering back laughter. ‘What was that for?’
‘Get up and take me Up-Top,’ Lexovia demands, jumping from the chair before he can whack her.
Bent over and breathing heavy, Jude peers at her through his thick lashes, ‘Ask nicely.’
She flexes her fist in warning but Jude doesn’t flinch. He leans back in the seat, eyes transfixed on hers.
‘Ask nicely,’ he repeats.
After a stretch of taut silence, Lexovia huffs in exasperation and stalks back over to the mirror. Jude’s laughter follows her like the trill of a bell in the wind.
‘Please,’ she grumbles at last.
‘I’m sorry?’ he asks, leaning forward in the seat as if straining to hear.
Lexovia clears her throat, the ache of swallowing her pride almost choking her. ‘Will you go Up-Top with me…please?’ She hisses the last word, the sentiment like poison trickling from her lips.
Jude smiles, ‘Vulnerability.’ He taps his steepled fingers against his jaw. ‘Beautiful.’ Lexovia shifts uncomfortably under his gaze. ‘Let me just grab my jacket.’
‘Be quick about it,’ she snaps curtly, grasping at any shred of control. ‘We’ll miss the celebration at this rate.’
Jude simply snickers as he practically sashays from the room.
Lexovia runs a damp cloth through her soot-covered hair as they stand in the dimly lit lounge of the fields cottage. She doubts she will ever get used to the journey from Feranvil to Up-Top: whirlpools, chimneys and grime. She is amazed to see how most of the cinders easily fall from her gown as she shakes herself, only a few smears lingering on her skin.
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Used to the trip, Jude cannot look better than if he’d stepped out of a magazine, Lexovia notes with a pang of irritation. A quick wipe with one of the wet rags has left him as polished as his shoes.
‘Be quick about it,’ he says, challenge lining his words. ‘We’ll miss the celebration at this rate.’
Lexovia flashes him her best “up-yours” grin.
‘I’m ready,’ she says, tossing the rag at him, stalking into the hallway and out of the house. Jude close behind. The cold air kisses her and she pulls the shawl she borrowed from Mrs Edwards, tighter around her shoulders.
‘How do you suppose Nathaniel will react to this place?’ Lexovia asks as if the question has not been on her mind for the past few days. ‘I mean, he’s done well with the idea of me and Dezaray but…’
‘To be honest, I have no idea,’ Jude shrugs, ‘never met the lad.’ Then seeming to sense that Lexovia is about to snap something at him about being entirely useless he hastily adds, ‘But if he hasn’t run screaming after hearing about other dimensions and counterparts, he’ll probably take Ferranvil Farm in his stride.’
Lexovia lifts her chin and nods; not entirely convinced.
Lexovia easily makes out Nathaniel as they turn a corner. His dark silhouette is haloed by the orange light streaming from Orchard Carvery’s large windows. Hearty laughter clashes with the sounds of drums and guitars as the door swings open and closed; bleary-eyed and well-dressed customers making their way in and out of the pub.
Spying her, Nathaniel waves and jogs to meet them. He scoops her up in his arms and pleasantly surprised, she throws her arms around him.
‘Still in one piece I see,’ Nathaniel beams planting her safely back on the ground.
‘Barely.’ Lexovia smooths out the crinkles in her dress, then turns to Jude, ‘Jude this is Nathaniel; Dezaray’s friend.’
Jude extends a hand to Nathaniel, ‘I wasn’t aware Dezaray was the type of person who has friends.’
‘I didn’t really give her a choice,’ Nathaniel states, accepting Jude’s hand. ‘So, where are we off to?’
Jude turns questioningly to Lexovia and again she scowls. She doesn’t know how often he has told people about Feranvil but certainly more often than she has. Apparently hoping that he might take the lead here, was too much to ask.
‘You don’t learn by watching, you learn by doing,’ he says as if he has read her mind.
She clenches her fists, tempted to thump him again but aware of Nathaniel eyeing them she says, ‘To a place called Feranvil Farm.’
‘Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this place than you’re letting on?’
She rubs her brow, ‘because there is. Feranvil is-’ But Jude cuts her off, wagging his finger at her as if she were a bad dog.
‘Don’t ruin the surprise, that’s the best part.’ He hooks his arms between hers and Nathaniel’s and leads them back towards the house on the field. Lexovia wants to argue and properly prepare Nathaniel, but she can’t deny how relieved she is that Jude is at least getting involved.
‘Colour me intrigued,’ Nathaniel murmurs, allowing himself to be led.
Lexovia marvels. It’s as if Nathaniel is born for parallel universes and hidden worlds. The moment they arrive at the boulder, he grins when Jude adopts his peculiar persona and purrs, ‘Lift the boulder, my friend.’
‘Don’t tell me this farm we’re going to is under a rock.’
‘Oh, there’s a lot more than just a farm,’ Lexovia murmurs, almost apologetic.
‘What?’ Nathaniel screeches, laughter shaking his body.
‘Enough!’ Jude raises a hand, his eyes cool. He cocks his head like a wildcat. Lexovia scoffs; what a showman. ‘Lift the boulder,’ He insists. Lexovia swallows a smile. This actually is the best part.
Nathaniel beams, ‘Gladly.’ He hefts the rock from the ground, gaping in awe and confusion as the ground shudders apart and yawns before him. ‘Now what?’ he gasps.
‘We jump,’ and his face stern, his body stick straight, Jude simply falls into the cavern, head first. The sight is as comical as it is frightening. Nathaniel stares from Lexovia to the hole and back. She nods encouragingly.
‘This is mad,’ and laughing Nathaniel cheers and howls as he tumbles down into the gaping ground, Lexovia close behind.
Lexovia is as enthralled as Nathaniel, happy to have someone to share the experience with. An underground world is as normal as air to Jude, but to Nathaniel and herself, the idea would be impossible if not staring them in the face. And once again the Bar and Grill has transformed, as it does every New Year’s according to Jude.
This time it has donned disco balls, laser beams and stars fall from the ceiling as if they are at the centre of a meteor shower. Mrs Edwards and the staff have cleared away the chairs and tables, to make more room for dancing and have arranged for free bubbly to flow all night.
It isn’t long before Lexovia finds herself gasping for air and staggering off the dance floor, leaving Nathaniel and Jude bopping along to the songs and charming the young ladies flocked around them. Lexovia shakes her head. Nathaniel chats flattery as easily as blinking and Jude is as smooth as silk.
‘There’s something I thought I’d never see,’ Mrs Edwards comments as Lexovia joins her at the bar.
‘What’s that?’ Lexovia asks, swiping the wine glass from Mrs Edwards and taking a gulp. She screws up her face at the sweet, dry tang but welcomes it all the same.
‘My Jude actually socialising at one of these things. He normally shrugs off the advances of his many admirers.’ Mrs Edwards watches her son with nothing but affection. ‘I don’t suppose this is your doing.’
Lexovia shrugs, ‘maybe. Although, I think it’s more Nathaniel’s influence. That boy’s joy for life is near contagious.’ Lexovia turns, watching as the boy’s effortlessly dip and twirl their partners. ‘I knew you were worried about Jude having no friends after I left. Now you don’t have to be.’
Mrs Edwards swallows, seeming as if she might tear at this sentiment. ‘I do not.’
‘I did it for Nathaniel as well.’ Lexovia adds, ‘He crashes on his friend’s sofa and constantly seems to be working. Can’t do him any harm to get out for a bit.’
‘Aye,’ Mrs Edwards agrees with a solemn nod.
‘Oh no,’ Lexovia cringes and indicates the dance floor with a flick of her head. Mrs Edwards follows her gaze to discover Nathanial and Jude, holding each other’s hands and spinning around as fast as they can.
‘I always regret letting youngsters drink during the holidays, yet every year I forget why until they remind me.’ Mrs Edwards sighs fondly.
‘We’ll be eighteen soon enough.’ Lexovia wrinkles her nose, ‘and while we’re at it, can I have another please?’ She waggles the now empty wine glass.
‘Bloody cheek,’ Mrs Edwards chides, already tumbling a copious amount of red wine into Lexovia’s glass. Lexovia grins, takes another hefty swig then leaps off the barstool to return to the boys on the dancefloor. They cheer at her arrival and all form a circle around her as she drops and twirls to the music. Music that she can’t help notice is being played through boxes and not through instruments. Electricity…how odd.
Nathaniel joins her in the centre of the circle, Jude and a redheaded girl quick to follow.
Lexovia waves happily, throwing her inhibitions to the wind. Tomorrow she will worry about lost empires, life shattering ceremonies and broken devices, but for now she can perhaps just be; normal, if only for one night.
BACK TO SCHOOL
It’s strange being back at Thornton High as Milo and I stroll up the paved driveway. I’d become so used to being on holiday, not to mention I truly thought I’d be back in Islon by now. I smile fondly at Boonov and Choaks, the unfortunate looking creatures with protruding whiskers and pointed snouts, supposedly known as Rijjleton guards.
‘Have a good holiday?’ I ask.
Boonov grunts in response.
‘Early today I see,’ Choaks
observes.
‘First time for everything,’ Milo chimes in, smacking him good-naturedly on the shoulder.
‘Let’s try and make a habit of it, shall we?’
Boonov and Choaks sigh – a sallow disposition, seemingly a part of their nature – and step aside to let us in; apparently, the lion entrance is reserved for those who are late.
Unbeknownst to them, our early arrival is intentional and as soon as we enter we slip down the corridor and race up the three flights of stairs that lead to the top floor. We’re greeted with the library: aisles and aisles of leather-bound books filling shelves that almost touch the ceiling, dim light streaming in from the tops of windows that are just visible. The desk for the librarian still stands empty on our right; thankfully she isn’t in yet.
I notice the aisle marked ‘Dimensionals’ and head straight for it. Milo signals another row with the title ‘Legends’ and goes there. I don’t know when we came up with this idea but after New Year’s, after realising the extent of danger mine and Milo’s adventure on the ship has caused, we’re more eager to find the Provolian Pair than before. If the necklaces are as powerful as they say, perhaps their magic could be used to save us. Besides, I’m responsible, the reason for this mess. The least I can do is try my best to be here to fight beside the others.
Moments later, I’m crouched down on the plush burgundy carpet, hoping that no one notices me. I am surrounded by a pile of books, each one flipped open to a page regarding counterparts, the Provolian Pair or legends of realms. The ones by Tranzuta are possibly the most interesting; the Einstein of their world; he seems to be quite a revolutionary. Tranzuta claims that the Provolian Pair originated on the shore of Taratesia, calling out a siren song to those with the ears to listen. I’m not sure what he means by this but I read on. He believed that no matter what, every twelve years, the Provolian Pair would return to that same patch of sand in Taratesia. I hear a shuffle and my eyes briefly dart about. Lexovia taking a sudden interest in dimensions would not go amiss. Plus, I’m told she never comes up here though I don’t understand why not; it’s possibly one of the most calming places I’ve ever been.