by I.D. Blind
LETTER FROM ALBERT O'BRIAN TO DAVID O'BRIAN
Dear Cousin,
Tell him he can come anytime. We are more than happy to see him again.
Albert O’Brian
2. Back to Hollow
At last, a morning without rain. The meadow was wet and humid after yesternight’s loud torrents. The sunrays needed time to evaporate the water which was making Electra’s feet wet as she walked in the blooming meadow dotted with the drops of yesterday’s rain.
Now and then she spotted leafless trees and withered bushes that stood out on the flourishing land, wondering what was happening to the nature in Hollow. It was behaving strangely. The trees were not infected, but some would dry out overnight, while their companions stood as green as ever.
“What’s wrong?” she was asking the trees, stroking the yellowed leaves and the dried barks. But the trees were silent. They were dead.
Electra climbed on the white bridge and stared into the water. With her eyes closed, she listened to the nature, trying to make out the words and whispers. The breeze caressed her face and wavered her fiery hair. Then someone petted her shoulder.
“For some reason, I'm sure you’re thinking of me.”
Electra turned around, and there was Eric a step away from her. She stared at him open-mouthed, then threw herself into his arms. Eric hugged her and whirled her in the air.
“How much I have missed you!” he cried out. “And how much I wished to hug you.” He lowered her to the ground and took her face in his hands. “You have become even more beautiful.”
“I can’t believe it! How could you hide your arrival from me?”
“Surprise!”
“The best ever!”
Eric told her he had arrived in the morning and the first thing he did after unpacking his luggage was to visit her. And the second thing he wanted to do was seeing Enchanted Garden. The witches had restored it, turning the garden into a flourishing palace overgrown with pink gardenias and red dahlias, big-budded roses and long-stemmed calla lilies. The arbor was repainted, and a small fountain stood nearby, serving as a pond for the rose finches.
“Are the fairies back?” Eric asked, his eyes wandering around the magical garden.
“They might be,” Electra giggled. She took him to the field near the blue castle, where Jack and Hector were training in javelin throwing.
“You came back!” Hector dismounted his horse and hurried to Eric.
“Of course I did.” Eric gave him a hug, but said no more. Whatever was happening in Hollow, he wanted to discuss it without Electra, so as to not scare and upset her. “When is the tourney?” he asked instead, looking at the shooting marks across the field.
“In a month,” Jack said. “Wanna join us?”
“Count me in. But be warned, I’ve never in my life shot an arrow or thrown javelin.”
“We’ll teach you. Archery, javelin throwing on horseback, and jousting.”
“All of that in one month?” Eric said with disbelief.
“Don’t miss the trainings, and a month is more than enough.”
“Oh dear, they will exhaust you.” Electra pouted.
“We start at six in the morning,” Jack said. “Considering that you live on the East Bank, we’ll wait for you at seven. You should never be late; discipline is important. We train a lot and it’s tiresome, but it’s the only way to win the tournament.”
“What about the horse?” Eric asked. “Uncle Albert has one, but he won’t let me take it every day. And I don’t think that horse is suitable for a tournament. It’s quite old.”
“We’ll give you a horse—a magnificent stallion,” Jack said. “I think Cassie’s Pegasus will suit you perfectly. He’s strong, yet calm, and doesn’t fear strangers. She won’t mind if you take him.”
“How long have you been training today? You both look pale,” Eric said.
“We’re fine.”
“A bit hungry, maybe,” said Hector.
“Poor things.” Electra threw her arms around their shoulders. “Let’s go home, and I’ll fix something for you.”
“Where are the girls?” Eric asked when they sat down in the living room of the blue castle.
“Cassandra is helping Dr. Robinson at the veterinary hospital. After Mrs. Robinson passed away, she stays there longer. And Medea is at the rehearsal. Today at five, the orchestra is giving a one-hour concert, and at the end of the concert, she is to play a solo on the violin!”
“Medea is giving a concert?” Eric sniggered. “That needs to be seen.”
“She’ll be happy if you come with us. I think I have a spare ticket,” Electra said on her way to the kitchen. While she fetched tea and pastries, the fellows spoke quietly, now and then pausing or changing the subject when she entered the room, and talking about something else unless she went back to the kitchen.
“One of the diaries we’ve read describes the arrival of the Hunters,” Hector said. “Before they return to Hollow, the weather changes. It rains day and night, with frequent thunderstorms and lightning; trees defoliate and wither, harvest is bad, and animals get sick.”
“Where can we find more information?”
“In the diaries of people who lived in Hollow back then, and who described some of the events,” Jack said. “We have a few—one belongs to an herbalist, Arthur Winsdale, but it’s unfinished. He was probably killed with the witches. His diary tells about the first days of the Hunt. Another one belongs to a woman named Amelia Wicker. She tells about the trials. I’ll give them to you to read. But the diaries we’ve read aren’t telling us everything we want to know; we need more.”
“Are you sure there are more? Where do you get them from?”
Their conversation was interrupted when Electra entered the living room, with a kettle of freshly made tea and a fruitcake. None of the boys talked about the witch hunt anymore. Instead, Electra asked Eric about his internship, and told him that Dr. Robinson was looking for one more intern.