by Aderyn Wood
Dale looked at Ma’r Warmston whose smile was as wide as her large head. “Is this your work?”
The old dwarf nodded. “Aye.”
Dale shook her head. “It’s beautiful!”
“Want to know the secret?”
Dale nodded at the cookery master.
“Turnip flour,” she said, tapping the side of her nose.
Dale laughed.
“Ladies, gentlemen.” A hush spread along the table as Dale's mother, Queen Anwyn of Arcadia stood and called for attention. “Tonight we are here to celebrate the coming of age of my daughter, the Princess Dalendra of Arcadia. Too long, she was away from me. But she was kept safe, just as we planned, and now that she has returned, I know I have the best daughter a mother could wish for.”
Dale’s heart bloomed with warmth, still unaccustomed to such outward showing of maternal love.
“And we are also here to celebrate the coming of age of Rhys Ap Alba. Rhys has proven to be a strong sorcerer, a wise leader and a firm friend. Tonight they shall be exchanged and re-bonded to their birth worlds. Dalendra to the Borderlands and Rhys back to Earth. At times, Rhys will have to return to his birth-world, but he will always be welcome at the Borderlands.” The queen’s eyes glinted with moisture. Dale knew Rhys had been a comfort to her mother; she had reared him as her own son.
“But now, let us forget our troubles and celebrate with Rhys and Dalendra by enjoying this marvellous cake.”
A cheer went up and Ma’r Warmston cut the cake into squares revealing the creamy sponge inside. Dale felt just a little regretful that the perfect palace had been destroyed. A shiver shook through her, and she wondered if it was an omen, but her magic was so unreliable, she couldn’t trust the feeling. Still, a sense of panic gripped her heart and a vision came to mind of the beautiful palace walls overrun with Unseelie monsters. But was it a vision from the past, or the future? She closed her eyes; the world seemed to spin.
“You like it, Princess?”
Dale blinked and looked down at Ma’r Warmston waiting expectantly for her opinion of the cake – a plate of it sat in front of her.
She had no appetite, but Ma’r Warmston was the last person she wanted to offend. She took a bite and closed her eyes again. It was a perfect balance of sweetness, a warm moist texture. “It’s delicious, Ma’r, thank you for baking it.”
A strum sounded and Liandrial stood at the other end of the table with his lute in his arms. “When you have finished your cake, follow me to the ballroom. My brothers and I would like to play a few tunes for your enjoyment.”
Dale wiped the crumbs from her mouth and rubbed her fingers on the napkin, careful not to ruin her new silk dress.
“And now we will have dancing. Do you think, Dale?” Agathina had walked by her side and grabbed her hand. A moment later they entered the lofty ballroom. Intricate woodcarvings made up each wall with hundreds of lanterns placed in crevices producing a soft golden light that reflected on the polished wood floor. The townsfolk all joined them; most had changed into their best clothes – gowns and tailored suits reminiscent of Disney films from Dale’s youth. The free spirits popped into existence everywhere. Two gnomes danced together like a couple of drunken sailors until a bright green sylph tripped them up with her foot. A group of sprites jigged together in a circle nearby, Esme wasn't among them.
Agathina clutched Dale's hand, her eyes wide. “It’s so beautiful!”
On the narrow stage Liandrial strummed his lute while his three brothers joined on their instruments and an upbeat tune began. The music had an instant effect on Dale. Miles away at the Verge a war was being waged at this very moment, and soon she would be re-bonded to the Borderlands. After, she’d be taken to see the prophecy that would bring its own series of consequences. But right now a rush of happiness radiated through her and she couldn’t help but tap her foot.
“May I have this dance?” Jaral stepped in front of them and Dale turned to smile at Agathina. It was a wonder the girl didn’t faint. But when Jaral extended his arm, it was Dale’s hand, rather than Agathina’s he embraced with his own. Agathina’s smile morphed into a frown and Dale’s heart sank. Couldn’t Jaral see how much she liked him?
“Yes, of course, Jaral,” Dale responded politely, and Jaral swept her on to the floor, and the circle of sprites clapped.
The band picked up the tempo and others joined in the dancing.
Jaral held her close; she could feel the strength in his arms. His purple eyes sparkled as much as the amethyst buttons on his vest. He smiled and his fangs glinted in the candlelight.
“How does it feel to be the centre of everyone’s attention, my beauty?”
Dale shook her head. “You know I hate it, Jaral.”
“I do, but I like the blush you wear, it brings out the colour of your eyes. They are like the emeralds in your dress. So beautiful.”
She grinned, and he swung her around as she laughed. Jaral was always so flowery with his compliments. But he wasn’t truly attracted to her. He seemed to talk that way with most people. She caught the look on Agathina’s face and a stab of guilt pricked her heart. Perhaps she should tell Jaral to ask Agathina for a dance next. Yes, that’s exactly what she would do. A knot of excitement tightened her belly at the thought of her friend finally in Jaral’s embrace.
When the song finished Dale opened her mouth to suggest he dance with Agathina, but Jaral placed a finger on her lips, silencing her, then held her hand fast and led Dale through an archway and outside to one of the many balconies that lined the exterior of the palace. This one was decorated with flowers and vines in the woodwork in which small silvery birds appeared to flutter by the flowers. The city sparkled beneath.
“I thought you could do with a respite from the prying eyes of the masters.” Jaral winked.
Dale looked over the city. She took a deep breath as her shoulders relaxed. Yes, it was good to have a moment away from everyone. The night air was cool, and the moon shone full and bright in the sky – a different moon to the one she knew back on Earth. It was larger and gave off a strong bluish-silvery glow. Down in the city there were fewer lights now that most people had gone to the Verge. War with the Unseelie remained a constant threat; everyone in the Borderlands knew how to wield a sword.
“I’ll be leaving with the council when they go,” Jaral said. His voice seemed different; no jesting for a change.
“I know,” Dale said, and sadness clouded her heart. She would remain here with her mother. All the other novices would be leaving with the masters when they returned to the Verge to rejoin the war. Officially, the novices had to undergo a series of trials in front of the masters before they left. But Dale knew who would pass the trials. And who would not.
“The news from the front is not good.”
Dale swallowed. “We’re not winning are we?” For the longest time they had managed to stall the enemy, and even take back lost ground, but Dale got a sense now that things had changed. She hadn’t had time to talk about it with her mother. The moment the last of the leaders had returned to Arcadia the queen declared a war council and had closeted the councillors away for hours of strategizing. Jaral was invited to the council meetings now. A Master in Waiting, just like Rhys.
Jaral shook his head. “The Unseelie are strong. They seem to be acquiring power from a mysterious source. We’ve had many casualties and they continue to gain ground.”
Sadness gripped Dale's heart. All those people. “And I’m supposed to be the answer, but I can’t even do the simplest of spells.” Her vision blurred. “I couldn’t even save Cat. How do people think I can save the Borderlands?”
“People don’t…” Jaral looked at her, sympathy heavy in his eyes.
“You were going to say that people don’t think that anymore.”
He looked down. “I’m sorry.”
Dale turned and placed her hands on the balustrade. “It’s all right. I don’t think I believe it either. But how am I supposed to convince my mo
ther? She believes I’m the saviour, the one who will fight with some great font of power and save us all.”
Jaral stood behind her. The warmth of his aura radiated onto her back. He put his hands on her shoulder and gently spun her around. “Dalendra,” he said softly as he stared down into her eyes.
Dale’s breath shuddered. She wasn’t accustomed to him being so serious.
“You must believe in yourself. Wait until you see the prophecy at least, then you will see you are meant to be here, and that you will lead us to our salvation. I still have faith in you.” His hand drew a line against her jaw and held her chin up slightly. “And may I request one boon of you?”
"What?” she whispered. A mix of nerves and passion seemed to swirl in her mind. Jaral was no longer the fun friend she knew and trusted, he was something else entirely – a man.
“One kiss. Let me be the first to kiss the woman.” He leant forward and his warm lips caressed her own. Dale tried to step back as shadowy thoughts of Agathina and Rhys urged her to stop this, but then a tingling erupted in her belly, her chest, her knees, and she suddenly felt breathless. Jaral’s hand cupped her neck and before she knew it, she was leaning into his kiss. His lips, so full, so warm. Her loneliness dimmed as it never had before.
“Dale, oh!”
Dale pulled back. Agathina stood at the doorway. Her mouth open, eyes alarmed. Dale stepped away from Jaral. “No,” she whispered. So many times her friend had confided in her. Agathina had been in love with Jaral for so long and here was her best friend betraying her.
Agathina’s shocked expression converted to a snarl as she looked over them. “Your mother says it's time.” She turned and left without another word.
“Agathina, wait!”
But Jaral grabbed Dale’s hand and spun her back. “Thank you,” he said, “I shall treasure that always.”
They stood in the throne room. A dais held the simple wooden throne made of detailed leaf carvings. Different timbers had been used for each individual leaf giving a sense of colour and depth only matched by the forest floor in autumn. A chandelier of glass blown in the shape of leaves hung above and gave off a dim golden light, like morning sunshine. At the centre of the throne room, Rhys and Dale faced each other on the mosaic of the moon. From this distance, Dale could see a new scar on Rhys's cheek. A battle wound? Rhys held her gaze, and Dale tried to return his stare but her eyes betrayed her, flicking to the familiar faces in the circle around them – the councillors, elders and masters, Jaral and Agathina whose confused expression would not leave her face. A hot wire of guilt wound through her when Dale thought of the kiss moments before. Why had she let it happen?
Dale’s emotions churned and a queasiness stirred in her stomach. Tensions pressed heavily now. The hope of her mother; the doubts of everyone else. Jaral’s kiss. Agathina’s hurt. The way Rhys’s eyes didn’t move from her. It all weighed down, and the idea of running off to go sailing in Joy seemed very appealing. She wished Cat were here, she wished Ness were here. Suddenly, her sprite appeared behind Rhys. Esme jumped on the spot in her usual way, purple strands of hair bouncing as she clapped her hands. At least someone was happy.
“Friends,” her mother’s voice filled the space of the throne room as effortlessly as a summer’s breeze as the queen took her seat on the throne. “It is time for us to make the exchange."
Dale took a deep breath. Her mother had warned her she might experience strange emotions, and even physical consequences like nausea. She had to prove she could stomach this at least.
The moon shifted into place in the glass of the domed roof above and the queen lifted her arms. “Aerem, ignem, terram, aquam, aether. Secundo, spiritus est. Et pro quo mutatum est incipere!”
Dale’s second sight opened and she saw through to another plane – the true realm. A wind whipped at her hair, and Dale walked through a murky fog. Light flew in gusts like water, or the spray from her boat. Images flew past – Victoria, the woman she thought was her mother back on Earth, her twin sisters and her brother Benny. Her heart ached when she saw Benny's face, she'd truly loved him – but they were Rhys’s family now. The iron gates of St Nino’s school and Prudence with her plastic friends. An image of Gareth and Cat sailing on Joy. Tears formed and she blinked them back. She had to keep walking; this was all she knew.
An owl flew past, and then a shadow appeared in the wind. She walked toward it. Rhys. His eyes burned in their usual way and an image came to her of the time he’d kissed her. Or was it Jaral? Rhys stopped looking and walked past, the fog enveloping him swiftly.
And then everything changed.
She stood in a field of daisies. She knew this place. It was in the Borderlands, on the very edge of their boundary. The Forbidden Forest – a place that belonged to the First, and Dale had an urge to enter, but like all Seconds, and Thirds, she was forbidden entry. Even if she wanted to explore the forest, the shields would prevent her from entering. Still her feet carried her toward it. Her toes gripped the soft daisy flowers and moved her closer.
The trees grew clearer. They were ancient; their gnarled and twisted branches filled the canopy. Her heart pumped fast, with fear and joy, and she wanted to go on. She was at the border, at the very spot where the shields surged like a vast mirage. She paused. If she were to go in, she’d be breaking the laws set by the First, but she couldn’t stop moving forward. The shields obscured her view, like hazy glass, but something lurked beyond. Perhaps a deer. The mirage moved again and now the shadow seemed more like a man. Dale’s hand reached out to touch it, and everything turned to white before sleep and dreams and darkness took her.
3
Dale dreamt of Ness. The old sorcerer’s lips were cracked with dryness, and hunger cramped her stomach – somehow Dale felt it too. Ness’s legs no longer held her weight; she barely had the energy to lift her head. Her eyes were so swollen, she struggled to open them, but when she did Dale could see Ness’s sapphire irises had dulled.
A hoarse groan came from Ness’s lips.
Ness? Dale’s dream-self said. Her voice boomed in her ears and the old woman seemed to startle, her eyes growing wide.
Ness took a few quick breaths as though summoning energy and this time Dale heard her.
“Help.”
Dale jerked awake and sat up, panting. She clutched the bed sheets and forced herself to breathe normally. Once again, the dream felt real. And once again, she had an urge to run to her mother and tell her Ness was alive. Dale shook her head. It wouldn’t do any good. Her mother had tried to summon Ness herself, but received no answer. Everyone had come to accept and grieve the fact that Ness had died. Another casualty in the effort to protect Dale – their secret weapon. Don't dwell on that now. She didn't need to wear any more guilt. Her mother would come for her soon enough and Dale needed her strength for what she was about to face.
She flicked her hair back. It was damp with sweat and clung to her like the remnants of desperation from the dream. Could it be true Ness was alive somewhere and calling for help? Was she foolish for even thinking it?
She got out of bed and walked to the washstand in the darkness. Plunging her hands into the cool water, she splashed her face. Images of the exchange came to her – of last night when she’d been re-bonded to the Borderlands. She patted her face dry and took a breath. Strange sensations had washed through her during the ceremony itself, but now she didn’t feel any different.
She lit the little lantern on the washstand and peered into the small looking glass. Her long red hair hung in messy strands over her shoulders. Shadows deepened the rings under her eyes and the hollows beneath her cheeks, making her appear almost gaunt, but, other than the shadows, she looked exactly as she had the day before. Was she supposed to feel different now? She wished she would.
And what of Rhys? He’d have to visit Earth soon. It would pull him back and he’d have to return to set the balance for a time. Dale had never felt that peculiar sensation. It was a puzzle, one that made her mother
believe she was special indeed. More likely, she was just the opposite. No one special at all.
"You need to believe in yourself," Dale whispered to her reflection. But the words were as hollow as the dark, doubt-filled eyes that looked back at her. Anger rose and she slapped the surface of the washbowl, splashing the glass. Streaks on the mirror's surface now distorted her reflection.
She turned and gazed out her balcony window. A soft mist hung over the city and some homes were just starting to blink with lantern light. Dawn crept closer.
“Esme,” Dale called on a whim.
Her little sprite popped into sight, a purple blur on the edge of the washstand, and gave her a wide smile.
Dale squinted. “Esme, are you sure you’ve looked everywhere for Ness? You cannot feel her when you go back to Earth?”
Esme’s smile vanished as she shook her head.
“Could you try again?”
Esme’s hands flew to her mouth and her little body shook.
Dale gently prised her hands down and held them fast. “I know you don’t like to go back there. I know his power has grown. But please, just one more time? I need to be certain she isn’t stuck. I had another dream. If you go this one more time, I promise I’ll never ask you again.”
Esme considered this, her finger prodding a sharp fang, and then with slouched shoulders she nodded.
“Thank you, Esme, I’ll never forget this.”
Esme vanished just as the door to Dale’s chamber opened and her mother walked in smiling. “How are you feeling? Any different?”
Dale shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mother, I just feel the same as I did yesterday. Am I supposed to feel something in particular?”
Her mother’s smile faded just enough for Dale to notice. Perhaps now, even her mother would begin to doubt. “It’s of no matter. Come, you need to dress, and quickly.”