The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1)

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The Angel of Elydria (The Dawn Mirror Chronicles Book 1) Page 8

by A. R. Meyering


  Passing the clearing, the pain forced Penny to slow her pace and she staggered forward. Each gasp of air came with a jab of white-hot pain. The way ahead was obscured and it felt impossible to remember which path she had taken, but knowing that Hector could not be too far off kept her from sinking to her knees in exhaustion and despair. It seemed like an eternity of groping her way through the darkness until she recognized a pinpoint of light she knew was their campfire. Penny’s heart ached with relief and she tumbled, gasping for air, through the shrubs and toward the camp. Stumbling to Hector’s side, Penny collapsed in complete expenditure.

  A drowsy Hector sat up, blinking. Catching sight of her, he gave a surprised cry and fumbled about for his glasses. “Penelope, what happened?” he gasped.

  Penny could only produce a weak moan. The light was fading fast. Hector pushed his glasses onto his face and gave a strangled shout. He lifted her off the ground and held her by the shoulders, his face aghast at the sight of her wounds. Penny let her head slump onto Hector’s chest and the world melted away into oblivion.

  Penny’s waking instinct was to sit up, but having forgotten the events of the previous night she was thrown back by a shock of pain. Hector came into view as Penny moaned.

  “Penelope! You’re alive―I-I mean awake!” Hector sputtered, looking her over with apparent dread.

  “Wh-what happened?” Penny groaned, propping herself up on an elbow and looking her body over. One shoulder was buried in bandages and a dark, reddish-brown stain soaked through. Her legs and abdomen were covered in smaller bandages.

  “I was hoping you could tell me!” Hector replied with evident concern. Penny eased down onto her back, and explained in a weak voice about the encounter with the ghost-like image of her mother.

  “You’re lucky to be alive. I don’t know what you were thinking,” Hector scolded and Penny scowled.

  “If you saw someone you knew running off into the forest, wouldn’t you follow them?!” she growled.

  “No, I most certainly would not. After I patched you up last night, the image of someone I once knew appeared there too. I successfully resisted the bait.” Hector pulled out a medicine jar and applied it to a gash on her leg. It stung.

  “It came back? So you saw my mother, then? Why do you think it looked like her?” Penny questioned and tried to sit up again, but Hector pushed her back down.

  “It didn’t look like your mother to me. It was…someone else. It seems this predator can somehow access a living creature’s mind and conjure a unique form that will lure it to its demise, much like how certain types of fish pull in their prey with the lights on their head.”

  Penny frowned, wondering how she could have stumbled into such an easy trap. “Who did it look like, anyway? That cute science teacher in the classroom beside yours?” she teased, wincing as Hector applied more of the medicinal balm.

  “No,” he snapped. “It was someone you’ve never met. Someone whom I know to be dead―that’s how I knew it couldn’t have really been…” he left off, his expression betraying guilt. “It’s beside the matter. How are you feeling?”

  “I’ve been cut to shreds! How do you think I’m feeling?” Penny spat, and Hector gave her an annoyed look. “I’m a little woozy, too. I think that thorn had some sort of poison in it.”

  “Let me take a look,” he said, unraveling the bandages on her shoulder. When the last strip of gauze had been removed, they both gasped. The wound had turned an unpleasant purple color and the veins around the area were swollen and dark. Penny tried to calm herself but found it quite difficult to do.

  “Wh-what’s―what’s all that?” she stammered, working herself into a panic with little effort. Hector looked both repulsed and frightened as he examined it. He shook his head with an ominous expression, his face very white.

  “We’ve got to get you to town. There must be some sort of doctor who can do something…” Hector whispered.

  “It’s that bad?” Penny choked. Hector looked uneasy as he tried to cook up a lie. A spiral of fear whirled through her. “I’m not gonna die, right? Right, Hector?”

  Hector made a horrible attempt at a smile and shook his head. “You’re going to be fine. We just need to hurry…”

  Penny started taking quick, sharp breaths and clutched herself. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die…oh please, let it be a dream, oh please let me―

  Hector eyed her reaction with strained worry. “Maybe you’d better sleep,” he suggested, then raised his hand, his index and middle finger extended. He put them gently to her forehead, and Penny tried to bat his hand away.

  “No! Don’t you dare, you stop right there Hector―”

  A glowing ring of silvery runes bloomed from his fingers and touched her forehead, and sleep crashed over her.

  VISIONS OF REALITY came in brief flashes. Her mind fluttered back and forth between foggy consciousness and absolute darkness. Penny could feel the jostle of riding on Humphrey’s back, but could not quite break through the veil that seemed to cut her off from waking. After what seemed like mere minutes of dazed sleep, Penny felt herself lying against something rough and hard as water was poured into her mouth. She opened her eyes for an instant and could see a fuzzy sky filled with stars, and then became lost again in the softness of sleep.

  The heartbeats of consciousness came and went six or seven times before she woke again, this time to the sight of a plain white ceiling. The room was dim, but a gentle breeze wafted in. Penny sighed with relief to think that walls were around her again, shielding her from the perils of the wilderness. She tried to move and felt blankets enveloping her aching limbs, and the pain flared up again. The gashes and wounds that spotted her legs seemed to have healed, but deep within her ribs there remained a terrible burning. It felt as if someone had sewn a hot stone inside her body, which continued to grow heavier by the moment. Soreness gripped her every muscle and her head pounded.

  Penny tried to call out for someone, but managed only a groan. Her tongue was dry and puffy, and seemed to be blocking her throat. She heard someone moving across the room. Hector came into view through the hazy blue light and sat down at her bedside.

  “Penelope?” he murmured, brushing Penny’s bangs away from her eyes. Penny shut her eyes again and gave a shallow nod to show she had heard him. The sounds of early evening drifted in through the open window.

  “Where are we?” she croaked, keeping her eyes closed tight. Even the meek light that shone from the twin moons of the Elydrian sky was enough to make Penny’s eyes sting.

  “I’m not entirely sure what to call it. Some sort of shrine, church, or temple. We’ve only just arrived, though. They should be with us shortly…or at least that’s what they said about half an hour ago. I’ll go check.” He stepped out of the tiny infirmary, assuring Penny he would return with help.

  The door creaked back open, and in shot a shaft of light, searing her aching head. She pulled the blankets up around her face to block the light and heard Hector talking with someone.

  “Well, let’s have a look-see,” an optimistic voice said. The blankets were peeled away from Penny’s face and a set of earnest, sea-green eyes peered at her in timid curiosity.

  A girl who looked not a day over twenty smiled down at Penny. She had waves upon waves of honey-colored hair that flowed down her shoulders and back. Her face was oval-shaped and pleasant. A strange white bonnet adorned her head, from which hung two golden bells on either side. The girl wore a modest white and blue robe that matched her peculiar headdress.

  “How are you feeling, my sister?” the young woman inquired. “I hear from your friend that you had quite the encounter in the Tarni woods.”

  Penny grunted in affirmation. The young woman faltered, then continued on, “I am a Junior High Priestess and the resident alchemist of this sanctuary. You may call me Armonie, if you wish. Now, what is the nature of your displeasure, sister?”

  “I feel like I’m dying. Everything hurts, I can barely move,�
� Penny croaked, unwilling to go into detail. Armonie blinked and looked over at Hector, nonplussed. Hector recounted the tale of Penny’s run in with the monstrous plant in as much detail as he could. Armonie’s face grew more and more somber as the story went on. The young priestess thought for a minute after Hector had fallen silent.

  “Hm. Thank you for your help, big brother,” she nodded at last to Hector. Penny did not care to lift her head to see what Armonie was up to, and was startled when she felt a dart-like pinch on her arm. Armonie gave an apologetic bow of her head as she lifted up a vial filled with blood. She bandaged Penny’s arm and bobbed over to the corner of the room, where the tinkling of glass vials and the heavy, rhythmic grind of a mortar and pestle could be heard.

  “Oh dear,” Armonie whispered after what seemed like a very long time. “I had better take these results to Madam Priestess at once. Please pardon me, friends. I won’t be long.” She fluttered through the door, her skirts rustling as she went. Penny looked at Hector, anxiety buzzing through her.

  Minutes later the door reopened and a tall, graceful woman entered. Glossy, dark brown hair had been arranged in two loops around her ears. The woman wore the same sort of robe and bonnet as Armonie, only there were no bells that jingled as she went along. She was quite a bit older than Hector, but retained the radiance of youth. She took a seat beside Penny’s bed and looked at her with great compassion. Penny realized she had been holding her breath since the tall woman had floated in and let it out.

  “Good evening, my child.” The woman’s voice was deep and dulcet. Sadness hung in her gray eyes in a way that frightened Penny. The High Priestess turned back to the doorway to where Armonie was entering. “Would you mix a tincture of quillow bark potion for her, Armonie?”

  “Yes, Madam Priestess,” Armonie complied, bowing.

  “Please, if you don’t mind, can you…” Hector implored, wringing his hands together. The priestess turned to face Hector and put her delicate, light brown hand on top of his. He flinched a little at her touch.

  “What name may I call you, brother?” she asked.

  “H-Hector Arlington is my name, but what—”

  “Mister Arlington, I’m afraid that I have unfortunate news,” she admitted.

  Before Penny had time to feel another surge of fear, she felt ceramic touch her lips as Armonie poured a bitter potion into Penny’s mouth. She swallowed, feeling a thick drowsiness come over her as some of the biting pain eased.

  “What do you mean?” Hector choked.

  “We’ve found the seeds of the vententula plant in your friend’s blood. The seeds use the flesh of living organisms for nourishment until they can sprout and grow into a mature plant,” the High Priestess said.

  This information sent Penny into a nauseating whirl. Somewhere beyond the amplifying, drug-induced haze of serenity, a chasm of terror cracked open in her heart.

  “What?” Hector took a sharp intake of breath, withdrawing his hand and clutching his chest. “You can’t be―”

  “I’m terribly sorry, but there is no cure for this condition. She won’t have very long. The medicine Armonie gave her will help her pass into the Dawn Mirror without pain or fear. All you can do is stay by her side and comfort her, and if we can―”

  “NO! I refuse to accept this. Please―there’s got to be something I can do.” Hector stood up, startling both Armonie and the High Priestess. His chest was heaving with emotion as he looked down at Penny. The whole scene felt distant to her, as if she was watching it on a movie screen at the end of a very long, dark hall. She could feel the rumbling of thoughts and frantic longings bubbling below the surface of clarity, but could not access them.

  “Big brother, please try to stay calm.” Armonie hastened to his side and tried to help him sit back down, but he jerked his arm from her grasp.

  “I will not let this happen. You don’t understand. She cannot die―I promised her that I would get her home.”

  The priestess drew a breath as if to speak, but Hector held up his hand to stop her. He glanced back down at Penny as if to make certain she was asleep. “I beg of you, is there nothing I can do?” Hector lowered his voice so that Penny could barely hear what it was he was saying. “This is my fault…she trusted me to take care of her…Madam, I—I’ve made so many mistakes in the past, Madam. Every day I regret I couldn’t…I simply cannot allow this. I—I’d never recover. Please. Help her.”

  The priestess faltered for one moment and looked at her shoes, her eyes bearing the weight of a difficult decision. She opened her mouth to speak, but Armonie stopped her, the young woman’s eyes wide.

  “Madam Priestess, you mustn’t! What if someone from the Cathedral gets wind?”

  “Armonie, please hold your tongue. I am well aware of the consequences.” The priestess shot her a look and Armonie fell quiet.

  “What are you talking about? Please, Madam,” Hector begged. The High Priestess hung her head. When she spoke it was in little more than a whisper, as if she were afraid of someone overhearing.

  “Are you willing to risk your life for this girl?” she breathed to Hector, her clear eyes full of defiance. Armonie put her hands over her mouth and sat down hard. Hector nodded without hesitation.

  “If you are fully ready to undertake a very dangerous task, then I will break a rule to save your friend.”

  “Madam, please! I want to help these people as well, but I―” Armonie interjected.

  “Armonie, is it not the law of our Angelic Lord Nestor that we are to preserve life whenever possible? Would this child’s blood not be on my hands if I were to let her die? Now please, her time is dwindling. Allow me to assist them unhindered, dear one.” She turned from Armonie back to Hector, lifted a pendant from around her neck and placed it into Hector’s hands.

  “One of my duties as a High Priestess is to guard the secrets and precious resources of my province. This pendant will allow you access to certain areas―secret places. Do you understand the seriousness of what it is I am doing?” Her gaze bore through him. Hector nodded again.

  “Good. Long ago in this area lived an elf called Warwick. In his exploration of these lands, he came across a cavern in the woods. Inside it was a miraculous spring that could heal even the gravest of injuries. He chose to exploit it, selling the spring’s water for profit. When the source of this miracle was discovered, the cavern was sealed off and the spring’s water fell under control of the Order of Nestor. Now, as you probably already know, magical resources have been strictly rationed ever since the unfortunate shortage. Usage of this spring is very carefully moderated…however, tonight I’ll make an exception,” she whispered.

  “To find the grotto you must pass through Lindenvale Cemetery, and I’m sure you know of the dangers that you may encounter in such a place,” she said, giving him a meaningful look. Hector blinked a few times and shook his head no, which seemed to shock the priestess. “Why, you’ve not heard of the wraith sightings? I was quite sure that everyone must have become aware of the recent threat.”

  “I’m so sorry Madam, but we are strangers in this land. What exactly do you mean by wraith?” Hector inquired. He shot worried glances over at Penny to make sure she was still breathing. She felt miles away, watching the gravest of expressions come over the priestess’s face.

  “There is no time to explain. Just please understand that you must proceed into that area with the utmost caution. If you see a wraith, you will have to defend yourself, do you understand?” the priestess warned.

  “Y-yes―but how will I know one if I come across one?” Hector stuttered.

  “You’ll know,” Armonie said in a hollow tone from the corner of the room. There was an oppressive silence for a moment, then the priestess proceeded to give a hurried set of directions to Hector. Penny could only make out her final words.

  “You must go now. Take this poor child with you. She will need to be completely submerged to ensure that she is rid of all the seeds. You won’t have long―she’ll
be gone before dawn breaks.”

  Penny felt the bounce of Hector’s step and heard the sound of his feet cutting through mounds of dead leaves, but the world in her eyes had become a mere pinhole in a heavy black sheet. She felt compressed, as if everything that she had ever been was being packed down into a tiny jar and forgotten.

  Hector had enchanted himself before they set out so he would be strong enough to carry her on his back, yet his breathing was harsh and his demeanor harried. With each jarring step he took, a little more life drained from Penny’s limp body. Minutes slipped by all too quick. Time didn’t seem so expendable a commodity when there wasn’t enough of it left.

  They passed under the iron gate and into the cemetery, the effect of the medicine Penny had taken fading. She could not stop herself from wondering how exactly the parasitic seeds in her blood were going about killing her, and the wondering made her sick with fear. Hector must have heard her soft whimpers, because he used what little energy he had to distract her.

  “Don’t worry. We’re nearly there already. Think about something else, all right? Talk to me,” Hector instructed as he took the first steps past the gnarled and weather-beaten gravestones, all carved in unfamiliar shapes. Their glassy black marble surfaces reflected the moonlight. The names of those long deceased were etched into the stones in spindly Elydrian script. Penny’s eyes passed over each of them with a heavy heart.

  “Penelope, talk to me!” Hector shouted at her, interrupting her morbid brooding.

  “About what?” Her voice was weak and slurred to her own ears, and she shut her eyes.

  “I don’t know. Anything. Tell me about―a fond memory, how about that?” he said, and Penny shuffled through the memories of her life. Images of days gone by appeared to her like embers in a darkening hearth.

  “There was this one afternoon my mom took me to a lake in the woods. I was―maybe eight years old, I think. I wore a little white dress with blue flowers on it and it made me feel so pretty. I remember we got there in the late afternoon―just when the sky gets that yellow tinge, you know? We ran along the shore and ate sandwiches. It was so warm and the lake reflected the sky like a mirror. No one else was there but us, and it felt like we were the only two people left in the whole world.” Penny could see the day in her imagination like a dusty photograph. She could envision her lacy white dress and the ghost of her smiles.

 

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