I held him back by the arms. “I had to. He’s in a lot of pain and I have to get Morgan home. Aiden needs to be unconscious to begin healing from inside. And he won’t breathe in so much of this bad air if he’s asleep.”
“But did you have to hit him?” Spencer said, backing away.
“It was the only way. Now, wait for me here. If he wakes just keep him rested, okay? I’ll be back soon.”
Spencer ran a short distance back down the tunnel, and returned with a bottle of water and some dry cloths.
As he bathed Aiden’s sleeping face, I ran to Morgan and hurriedly untied his bounds.
“Are you okay? Can you walk?” I whispered.
“I think so,” he croaked, as I lifted him to his feet. He shuffled trying to get movement back to his legs but he was slow. I felt something hard bash my leg and reached into his pocket to find the earpiece. It was still switched on. Hannah and Jez must have heard everything.
With one last look behind me I put Morgan’s arm over my shoulder and half carried him back down the tunnel from where we had come.
Back at the cottage I propped Morgan on the sofa. Jez and Hannah didn’t speak, only navigated out of my way wherever I moved. Their manner was different, afraid and unsure, and I was well aware that our homecoming was icier than our departure had been. But I didn’t have time to qualify my actions or their betrayal right now. Daisy needed me.
I knelt in front of Morgan and lifted his trousers. His leg sores were oozing, they were much worse than mine had been. The skin was ripped open and blood had dripped down into his socks, now hard and dry. I laid a hand over each sore and healed them. I checked the rest of his body and found a broken rib. His wrists bore more smarting sores deep into the skin tissue from the ties. I healed them all in silence as all three people in that small room stared at me in awe as I glowed again, now not afraid of who I was.
“Jez,” I said, keeping my head down as I worked. “I’m sorry I didn’t find your dad, but I will. I promise.”
I looked up at Morgan, his face still streaky from tears. I know he wanted to apologise, and I knew Hannah and Jez wanted to talk but I couldn’t be with them, any of them right now. Much as they were my friends, the pain of their lies was still too close to me. That each person I knew here had known more than I, had known about my family but kept me from discovering the truth, was too much. A betrayal like this wouldn’t be easy to forget.
But mostly my deepest regret was Morgan. I should never have got close, and I found it difficult to feel anything by comradeship right now. Sure, we were all in a small unit together, much like the army, but all the small links that had held us together had fallen away leaving us standing alone.
All I knew was I had to be with Aiden, and I needed to gather my own thoughts. Collectively and separately, I had to focus on what would happen next.
Whatever happened from this moment, there would be retribution against my family and against the people I loved. And it wouldn’t be from Aiden Deverill, as I had once thought, it would be from Ben, and it would be brutal.
“How do you feel?” I asked Morgan when I was done healing.
“Okay, all good I think,” he muttered. “Rose, I”
I held my hands up in defence.
“Don’t, please. I don’t want to hear it. I can’t hear it yet. I need to find Daisy.”
Morgan pleaded. “Rose, don’t go. Not to him. Get Pritchard to go.”
“I don’t have a choice. The army are no match for Ben Deverill. If Ben Deverill is a Primord Elemental then only Aiden and I can fight him, plus I need to be with someone I can trust,” I knew the last comment was probably going too far, but I didn’t regret saying it.
I turned to face my old friend and I saw regret in her eyes.
“Hannah. One hour. If you don’t hear from me, dial that number I gave you. Understand?”
She nodded modestly.
Without looking back at any of them, I grabbed the bag again and walked back down the stairs to the tunnel. I didn’t know how much or if any of the stories Aiden had told me was true. It did seem a little far fetched.
But Aiden was like me. Different. Superhuman.
Whatever way I looked at it, I could never have been ordinary Rose Frost from the North, who moved down to live with her grandmother. This town was too closely knit, and there were too many ties to each person I’d met, through family or friends or someone knowing someone else.
I needed to be free, and I needed to be myself, whoever that was.
Halíka Dacomé? I still didn’t get it all. But I felt it inside, that she was there, somewhere. Helping me wield my power, and helping me understand. My dreams were her visions. I knew who the grey girl in the mirror had been. The marble statue that was in the hallway of Daisy’s house now had a name. And I knew who the voice was, telling me about the item I needed to find. A previous Halíka Dacomé. Not Daisy, not the original but just one of them. And there were many.
I was scared to become her, more scared to lose myself. I vowed from this moment that I wouldn’t change from being Rose Frost, no matter what happened.
Right now, as I ran along the dark tunnel, retracing my steps back to Aiden, I realised that my old life was over.
My new destiny was beginning, but this time I was on my own.
END OF PART ONE
Coming Autumn/Winter 2011
The Lost Dacomé Files -
The Battle of Arcanon Major
&
Elemental: The Circle of Fire
(Primord Series Book 2)
Visit www.alexandramay.co.uk
for more details
Author’s Note
The basic story itself has been many years in the making. However, it took one day in October 2009 to pull the various story strands completely together and establish all of the characters as they are in print today. Anyone who listens to music will know that if you close your eyes and listen as the melodies and harmonies flow you can capture a sequence of events in your mind. This was the moment, it took one song and Halíka Dacomé was born. It would be imprudent to name the artist and the song at this time but I will be indebted to them forever.
My fascination with genetics, ancestry, ancient civilisations and history had me glued to the Discovery Channels for hours and I would like to indirectly thank Prof. Brian Cox and Dr Iain Stewart for their inspirational programs and literature. I must encourage them both wholeheartedly to carry on with their tremendous work.
That being said, a book doesn’t write itself and without the generous help from the following people my story would still be a picture in my head.
So, thank you to my father, Graham, for his knowledge of Wiltshire history and King Alfred, and my mother, Althea, for her continued enthusiasm and support. To Linda, who edited the final draft and encouraged me even when my bad English habits crept in. To Trish, Mario, Jo, Thomas, Kate, Paul R, Ken and Sue who were my initial guinea-pigs and didn’t laugh at my crazy idea.
Most importantly I would like to thank Paul, my better half, who never complained when I spent days and weeks locked away on my own. Without his heartfelt support from its inception I would never have achieved this great feat which I am extremely proud of.
Table of Contents
Elemental: The First
Midpoint
Elemental: The First Page 28