The loose, stone was a beautiful, deep blood red colour, it shone so beautifully in her hand - like a jewelled heart. As Amenea turned the stone over in her hand to look at it she saw that it had something engraved on the underside of the stone. Amenea took the stone over to her small, wooden table that was beside her be to see better as here there was a tall, white orchid burning through the night. Here the light was bright.
As she looked closer, she saw the engraving was perfect, almost as if it has been done by some sort of a machine she though as who could engrave that perfectly. Amenea kept turning the stone round and round in her hand until she realised that she was looking at one word. She took out some parchment from her bedside drawer and a small inked quill and started to copy the letters down.
Then she suddenly sat up as if she had been struck by a force of electric. She knew this word – or at least knew she had seen it before. Rushing to her writing desk she quickly found some books that she had borrowed still from Chateau school and turned to the page of Abraxas. And there she saw the word – the same word that was on the stone:
‘Ablanathanalba’
Amenea now penched over the stone and the book and parchment, parted her lips and tried to say the word. It took her a few attempts and then when she finally did say it, something happened.
There was a small turquoise light that lit the stone from the middle and then a small circular cavity appeared within the stone. It was almost like the stone opened up in the palm of Amenea’s hand and as it did a rolled-up scroll about the length of her smallest finger appeared. Without hesitation Amenea reached out with her other hand and took the scroll from the centre of the stone. The cavity closed and the light within the stone faded back to the beautiful, deep red colour it was previously.
Dumb fasted, Amenea just looked at her hands. They were both open, palms facing upwards in front of her. One held the stone, the other the scroll. Amenea was pleased that she was alone as she could not speak. She just sat there. She realised that she had been holding her breath and suddenly let out a gasp of air. The night silence in her room was finally broken. As she let out the gasp of air, the stone fell, gently onto the book and as Amenea lent forward to pick it up she saw that it had landed right next to an image of the very same scroll she held in her hand.
Quickly Amenea moved the stone, gently across the yellowed pages, she swept small speckles of dust that lay on some parts of the page as she did so to reveal the words beneath it.
The book read:
Ablanathanalba is a sacred and magical word used only by the divine spirits. It can be found only on the Abrasax stones and upon the magical papyri. Ablanathanalba means Thou art - our mother. The magical Papyri of the divine spirits date back to before the darkness was broken. The magical papyri contains, a sacred, magic writing that only the finder of the papyri can be empowered by. The papyri cannot be sought, stolen or used for any purposes other than what it is destined as it can only be found in the Abraxsas stones. The Abraxsas stones open only upon the will of the divine spirits.
“Wow!” said Amenea out loud. “Just wow!”
It had been a moment before Amenea could say anything – her mouth was now dry and her mind was totally amazed – she could not believe what she had just seen or read. Most of all she did not understand why the stone had opened for her. It could not be a mistake Amenea thought as I am the only one in the room.
Amenea sat on the side of her bed for what seemed like hours – waiting for the sun to rise. After a while she thought that maybe she should put the stone back in the mirror. Finally convincing herself that she should try and put the stone back in the mirror, Amenea was surprised that the mirror sucked the stone back into place with a gentle suction. For a moment she just stood there and stared, wondering what was happening and hoping all would be alright. In the other hand Amenea still held the scroll very gently in her hand.
Amenea wanted to see what was written on the scroll and had unrolled it on the bed but the writing was too small to see what was written. Then Amenea had an idea – she had noticed in the previous days that parts of the mirror seemed to magnify things. She had giggled to herself a few times when she appeared wider than she knew she really was and then Amenea remembered reading something in the book that she borrowed from Mrs Levity about the power of magnification. So Amenea decided to unroll the scroll and hold it up to the mirror thinking, if I move the scroll around the mirror in this way, eventually I may come across a magnified part and this may help me to read the writing on the scroll better, thought Amenea.
Amenea moved the tall candle from her bedside table to the small stone ledge that was pertruding from the stone wall. She placed the candle on it and started to move the scroll over the mirror.
Initially nothing seemed to happen but then Amenea felt something on both sides of her cheekbones, it was almost like a warm breeze. Then the candle extinguished. The room fell into total darkness and then there was that sound. The same sound that Amenea had heard in the fountain. She gulped, unsure of what was about to happen, her stomach turned as she braced herself.
But before she could think a moment more – the mirror lit up and many, what seemed like images appeared on the mirror. Each one, side by side to the next in perfect, small square sizes. As Amenea neared the mirror the sounds of the ladies singing voices faded. The closer Amenea got to the mirror she realised – that these were pictures of her! Pictures of Amenea, in the past. Here on the mirror there were hundred and hundreds of pictures of her.
There were pictures of her with her mum and dad at home in Submertia, on the sofa …. pictures of her riding her first bicycle with her sisters …. Of her sitting in class at Chateau school …. More of her next to the fountain with Custennain and her brothers …. of her riding her horse the other night after meeting Mabon … more and more pictures of her from when she was a small child to now. These pictures spread across the mirror like a wall within it - snapshots of her life. Amenea reached out to touch the face of her father in one of the pictures. And as she did so, the picture enlarged itself and jumped out towards her, she stepped back in shock and realised that the picture was not still anymore, everyone and everything in it was now playing, moving just like a film.
A tear came to Amenea’s eye as she saw her father pick her up in his arms and carry her into the house in Submertia. She had been playing on her tricycle in the garden and toppled over. The image showed him sitting her on the kitchen worktop and wiping her knee with cotton wool. Then the image disappeared.
The mirror went dark again and then all the images seemed to appear again and form a circle. They shone brightly and then within the middle of that circle another large, image appeared. It was Amenea. She was standing on the top of a cliff, very near to its edge. Amenea looked into the picture on the mirror, trying to score more detail, more understanding from what she was seeing.
What I am holding? Amenea thought as she tilted her head to look at the movements in the image. Amenea could see her long hair blowing in the wind. In the picture it was dark, the stars were shining in what seemed a huge sky all around her.
Looking at herself in the image, Amenea could see that she was wearing thick leather gloves and a leather breast plate that she had seen Mabon wear for protection when sparring with Custennain. Amenea seemed to be looking out at something.
The image started to fade and Amenea narrowed her eyes to try and catch as much of the image as she could in her eyes before it disappeared.
In its place a a huge triangle appeared, in a burnt orange colour with golden edges. Then the shape suddenly brightened, flashed, dimmed then disappeared from the mirror and so Amenea was plunged into darkness once again.
Chapter 21
All the following day at Chateau school, Amenea thought deeply as she looked ahead in her lessons on spell binding and lunar stone marking. She thought deep about what her teacher Mrs Levity was teaching her and the students that morning. In class they were learning about the amulets o
f the divine spirits and how they are used to ward off bad evil and destructive spirits.
“Of course, if you start to trifle with the energies a mishap may occur.” Mrs Levity said, peering at into the eye of each and every one of the students as she walked along the front of their tall oak desks. As she did each student sat, up straight on their wooden stools as if being drawn to attention.
It was almost as if she read the minds of few. She continued …
“Folkin, is the name of one who has experienced this very mishap and it is said that he is still living to tell the tale…” she continued, raising her eyebrows as her eyes widened, then narrowed quickly and accurately.
Mabon looked at this point as if he had just received an electric shock as he bolted almost out of his chair when Mrs Levity said the word “Folkin”. He knew exactly what she was referring to. He looked quickly around to see if anyone had noticed him jump. He breathed a small breath out gently.
“That was close,” he said. However, Amenea sitting near the back of the class today, saw his response and she was beginning to wonder what that may mean.
“That is if you can find him!” Amenea’s thoughts were interrupted by the semi shrill voice of Miss Levity that continued to say …
“.. it is said that he is deeply hidden in the valleys and the hills and can be sometimes found in the nearby town of Masonbury.” She said now, slanting her eyes into a narrowed squint. So narrow that even her thick lensed spectacles struggled to show her eyes at this point.
“However, we won’t waste time going into that!” she said as her voice now raised in pitch whilst she spun round on her heels to walk back across the room quickly to fetch another book. It was at this point that Cordelia spoke up, which was quite out of character for her.
“Mrs Levity?” she asked. “What amulet would you need to protect yourself from the dark lords?”
Silence fell upon the class including every atom of air that filled the high ceilings that went far up, high into the upper crystal spires of the chateau as Mrs Levity spin back round to look at Cordelia. Not once had Amenea seen her face cloud over but now Mrs Levity’s face had become quite pale and deadly serious. The string of amethyst beads that was connected to the ends of her spectacles as part of her spectacle support now swung being the only movement in the room. Everyone’s eyes were wide and still.
“You are not young children. You are all young adults. That is why you are here. You are receiving the training and the knowledge that many years ago, your ancestors would have given you directly. One day, each and every one of you will understand the relevance of this knowledge and be thankful that you received it. Ooh of that you can be sure.” Her eyes rolled.
“Remind yourself of that when greed, love or something else starts to cloud your spirit.” She paused and looked at us all, without moving her head.
“As I said.’ she continued saying in a very firm voice, looking right down through the rim of her spectacles and down the edge of her finely pointed nose in the direction of Cordelia; those that meddle with the energies of the amulet, will find themselves within a dark place where no soul wants to go.”
“Why?” said Oriana, in a semi – flippant tone.
“Because if you do, being blessed ones of the Dalia, only the amulet of Thorotriolakma can save you. “ Her head bowed forward and down as if in deep thought.
“Thorotr…what” said Hearne in an honest, foolish manner as he failed to repeat the word correctly or at all.
“Thorotriolakma. It is the name of the sacred amulet. It is shaped like a triangle, cut from a secret blue stone that has small speckles of gold in it. From the other world …”
Amenea’s head turned and looked straight at Custennain who was already looking back at her. “The magical word, Ablanathanalba is said to be inscribed upon it with letters known only to the ancient ones. Should the forces of the dark lords enter your mind, body or soul, the amulet must be worn for nine days around the neck and then thrown into passing water on the tenth day. On this tenth day the wearer is healed and all energies and powers, curses or spells from the dark lords are banished from the wearer - such as they cannot return.”
Silence was still upon the room and Mrs Levity realised that most of the students were quite possibly scared out of their wits. She moved on …
Throughout the entire lesson Amenea could feel the eyes of Custennain upon her. She had quickly glanced over to him as he was sat to her right and she wished she hadn’t. The minute her eyes fell upon him, she started to pang, all over. Her body warmed and she felt sure that her face blushed. Annoyingly, he just smiled gently back at her from his strong, tanned jawline, which protruded from his newly cut jaw length hair. He must have had this cut in preparation for the Carving of the light ceremony. His eyes softened as he looked towards her and when he did so she felt pathetic. Utterly pathetic.
If only he knew what an overheated, blithering mess she was.
As Chateau school finished for the day, everyone packed up their belongings and made their way out of the room. Amenea was hurrying as she could see Custennain wavering. She didn’t want to have to speak to him. Not here – not in the daylight.
As she left the room and started to walk along the corridor, Mrs Levity and the other students rushed passed her. Then she felt his hand on hers. Custennain gently touched Amenea’s hand from behind, she paused and before she could think he had come to her side. The passage way was wide but not wide enough for them both to walk side by side down. Amenea allowed her now very warm body to be gently pushed against the cool, hard wall …
Chapter 22
“Keep still,” said Amenea as she tried to robe her sister Oriana in her special attire for the Carving of the light ceremony. Oriana kept fidgeting and it was really starting to annoy Amenea, especially after everything but she wanted to please her mother.
“I am!” Oriana replied with a mild accent of her typical, precociously, sarcastic nature. “Oh yes, you are!” said Amenea in an even more sarcastic way as she cracked a big smile up at her sister who was now stood on a leather, clad basking stool, like a princess sat at the bough of a ship, looking out ahead of her.
As Amenea arranged Oriana’s robes and tugged and pulled at them she became even more puzzled.
“Why is the underskirt just not hanging right,” said Amenea as she continued to struggle with her dressmaking pins along two maids to assist her. She looked up at Oriana to see if she may know and was surprised to see that her sister had blushed in the face and was now doing that thing with her mouth. That thing that she had done ever since they were little. That thing when she had told a lie or not told the truth and tried desperately to cover it up.
“Shall I try once more by rehanging the underskirt, my lady?” asked the maid, closest to Amenea.
“No I don’t think it’s going to be any good, but thank you kindly,” replied Amenea.
“I am going to try tugging gently just at this extra fold to see if there is some extra fabric caught that we have not seen. It must be caught up somewhere between the seams.”
Amenea started to tug and then she did again a little more forcefully. She was hot and bothered and could only think of meeting Custennain tonight. The last thing she wanted to do was sit here doing this for Amenea. She wanted to think of what he was going to say to her and what she might reply. She wanted to have time to dress and do her hair. She wanted to …
But just as Amenea took her last little tug. Oriana lost her balance and swayed gently but in a totally unbalanced way, she started to fall.
“Oh no!” she squealed in shock.
“Maids – quickly, quickly. I’m going to fall.” Oriana cried. And as soon as she finished these words with Amenea still at her feet on the floor, Oriana started to fall right in Amenea’s very direction.
Both maids rushed to Oriana and Amenea swiftly jumped to her feet, she caught the waist of Oriana as she fell. Amenea grabbed Oriana fully. This seemed to do the trick and along with the h
elp and support from the maids on each side – they all managed to save Oriana from falling face first into the hard floor. Oriana shocked and totally relieved, turned to face her sister to hug her in thanks but the face of Amenea stopped Oriana dead in her tracks.
During the fall, Oriana’s robe had torn at the stitching line at the waist where the gold braid and underskirt skirt were tacked in place for final stitching. They had separated and the underskirt was hanging down much longer than the skirt of the bodice, the braid was dangling down in a long, twisted mess besides Oriana’s lower arm and hand. Both revealed Oriana’s body. Her stomach to be precise, which was popping out, protruded out over her white cotton undergarments.
The maids were agasp with mouths wide open as they quickly realised what they were looking at and looked down to the floor – just as quick. They feared the worst.
“Orinana!” said Amenea, in a voice that was cold and without emotion, her eyes were still firmly locked on Oriana’s white, bare, protruding belly. “What is that?”
“ What have you done?”
Oriana looking still at her sister – turned pale. Her face stilled and her eyes sorrowed.
“Amenea, I was trying to find the right time to tell you but I didn’t know how to.”
“Is that what I think it is?” asked Amenea, who now had half of her lip curled up which accompanied perfectly her glazed eyes. Her anger was beginning to show.
“We were going to tell you… we, wanted to tell you together, but I thought.”
Amenea cut in, “Oh you thought, did you? You actually damned well thought for once! Well you didn’t seem to be thinking when you kissed Custennain at the breakfast meet with Prince Darian did you?” Amenea’s voice had become deep and worryingly, controlled with anger. Amenea started to look scared.
Not ever seeing her sister like this Oriana did not know how to react – or even know what to say to her sister right now.
The Queen of Hope (Tower of Glass series) (The Throne Of Glass Book 1) Page 10