Read The Lost Soul Page 2


  He shook his head, "I really don't know. I feel like I've been in a nightmare for a long time. I wish I knew but I don't know... I don't know anything any-more," he sobbed.

  "Now, now. You are safe now. We will care for you until you are strong once again and have regained your memories, and perhaps then we can help you find your way home."

  "Sheharazalea! Sheharazalea!" shouted a voice in the distance.

  "I am here, Father. I am with our guest."

  The young faery stood and smiled as in strode a tall striking man, bearing a full white beard and long white hair that had been plaited and hung down his back in between his two larger silver wings. His silver eyes twinkled as he approached.

  "I am glad to see you are awake and well, dear friend. It is a pleasure to see. It is not often we have strangers in our midsts and to have almost lost you to the other side. Well, that would have been tragic, tragic. How are you feeling?"

  "To be honest, I don't feel so good, but grateful, so grateful to you and your daughter. Thank you, thank you for helping me."

  "It is our great pleasure to help you. Now tell me, who are you? What is your name? Where have you come from? Do you think you could find your way home?"

  "Father, he has only just awoken from his five day sleep. He is exhausted. He is not ready for your inquisition. Plus... his memories have gone. He remembers nothing."

  "Forgive me... it is not often we receive company. I am eager to hear more about you. But my daughter is quite right, as usual. You must rest some more. We will talk when you are feeling a little more... alive. Perhaps then your memories will have returned. It is clear you have been through tempestuous times," he smiled and turned to walk away.

  "My father is very keen to learn about other kingdoms, please forgive him," said Sheharazalea shyly.

  "There is nothing to forgive. He seems like a very pleasant gentleman, erm, faery... chief."

  Sheharazalea smiled at him and placed her soft hand against his face once more. The sorrow that filled his every pore made her feel sad, an emotion she knew only too well. Ever since her younger sister had disappeared, Sheharazalea had felt a deep sense of sorrow herself.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "There's more to these headaches than meets the eye, you know Moira?"

  "What on earth do you mean, mother?"

  "I'm not sure, it's just something I can feel. I can feel it in my bones."

  "Oh mother, for heaven's sake. You don't have any bones! How can a dead woman feel anything in her bones?"

  "I'd really rather prefer it if you didn't refer to me as a dead woman. I find it dreadfully disrespectful, you know, darling."

  "Well, what should I call you then?"

  "I'd rather be called a ghost than a dead woman, if it's all the same to you."

  "Fine!"

  "If you two have finished, we were talking about my headaches," interrupted December who sat on the sofa in Rose's cottage, propped up by a couple of large fluffy cream pillows.

  "I am sorry, my darling, I do get distracted when someone calls me a dead woman," answered December's grandmother, Ruby.

  Moira raised her eyebrows and shook her head. The three of them chuckled together as Lilly and Rose walked back into the living room carrying a pot of tea.

  "Where are the boys today?" asked Rose.

  "They're with Carmelo and Jo. They offered to go help look for Jemima again."

  "Oh I do hope they find that poor girl," sighed Ruby, floating from one end of the room to the other.

  "How are you feeling, December? Have the headaches eased at all?" asked Lilly who sat on the sofa with her friend.

  "No, they seem to come and go in waves. One minute I'm fine and the next it's excruciating and I feel almost like I'm floating, you know. Like I'm having an out of body experience. It's so weird."

  "Well Mother, I guess you were right. My headaches were never like that. They were quite painful, but I don't ever remember having out of body experience-type feelings. I think we ought to get her checked out."

  "I can't very well go to a doctor, Mom... not if it's connected to my being a witch, anyway."

  "That's not what your mother was suggesting, my dear," said Ruby, drifting over to December's side.

  "Your mother was suggesting we need to head back home, to communicate with the dead."

  "Oh... can't we communicate with the dead here, Mom... please? I really don't want to go back to Washington. I want to stay with Lilly," said December, linking her best friend's arm through her own.

  The two girls gave Moira a wide-eyed look but her mother had made her mind up.

  "Nope, I'm sorry girls, but we can only communicate with these particular spirits in our own basement. To set up another purple room here would simply take too long."

  Seeing the girls' expressions, she added, "Perhaps Lilly can come with us for a few days instead?"

  Lilly's face lit up like a Christmas tree.

  "Oh, but what about school and work?"

  "It'll only be for a long weekend. I'm sure Ben will be okay with that and as for school, we'll speak to your teachers and assure them you'll catch up when we all get back," said Rose with a cheeky grin.

  "Hang on... did you just say 'when we all get back'?"

  Moira, Rose and Ruby shared a look and all three grinned at the same time.

  "That's right... we weren't going to tell you yet but I guess the secret's out now. Your mother has bought old Mr. Black's cottage. We're moving to Powell River!" announced Ruby as the two girls squealed and jumped up and down until December winced.

  "Oh, sorry, December... I'm just SO EXCITED! We're going to be neighbours! Wait until we tell Chris and Oliver! Wait, we need to go and tell them, like NOW!"

  "Woah, woah, slow down, slow down," said Moira, "let's just calm down for a second, okay? We'll go back to Lilly's, get all packed and then we 'll try and get hold of the boys, okay? The most important thing now is to get to the bottom of these headaches. So calm down."

  The two girls finally plopped themselves back down on the sofa, neither of them able to wipe the huge grins from their faces, even though December's headache was getting worse.

  #

  "Do you remember coming to Lund with Duran, Chris?" asked Carmelo as he sat in the front passenger seat alongside his soon-to-be wife, Jo, who had convinced him she should drive the car for once.

  Chris, the younger vampire, sat next to Oliver in the back.

  "Yes," he nodded, "We did spend a little bit of time here hidden in the forest by the water. He had a cave we used to hide in, but he never brought Jemima with him."

  Leaning forward and feeling just a little bit awkward at being the only non-vampire in the vehicle, Oliver tugged at the collar of his jacket absent-mindedly, "But I thought you guys looked all over Lund for her?"

  "We did, but we just want to be sure we didn't miss her. Duran was a smart guy. He could have out-witted us," replied Jo, taking her foot off the gas and easing the car into a parking space just metres from the famous Historic Lund Hotel.

  "He might have outwitted you, as for me? Well..." said Carmelo with a grin. He was one of the strongest vampires in western Canada, especially now Duran was dead. But an uneasiness shrouded his head concerning Jemima's whereabouts. Duran had pretty much told them he had turned the high school cheerleader into a vampire and he'd also suggested she was particularly well hidden. Carmelo was determined to find her before she became a risk to the people of Powell River or... if she was trapped, before she became too weak to survive. It had been known to happen before.

  As the wind shook the trees, and the water glistened ahead of them, Oliver took a deep breath as he watched a fisherman climb out of his small boat, tying it up at the small harbour located right in front of the hotel, before he ambled towards them.

  "Morning. A good day for fishing?" Oliver asked politely.

  Smiling oddly as he eyed up the strange looking group, one of the elderly men rubbed his gloved hands together and shook hi
s head, "No, unfortunately not. It might appear calm out there now but there's a storm brewing. It's heading right this way. By this afternoon, we won't know what's hit us," he said before scurrying away towards the car park where he quickly climbed into his little car before driving away with a worried glance in his rear view mirror.

  "It always gets me how these fishermen can tell exactly what the weather's going to be doing."

  "It's called The Weather Channel," chuckled Jo.

  Rolling his eyes at her, Oliver shook his head with a smile.

  "I know what you mean. They've been fishing almost all their lives, these guys. They can read the oceans, the sky, the clouds, every last natural motion around them tells them exactly what they need to know. I'd take note of what he just said... we need to get out into the forests and look around before all hell breaks loose," Carmelo added as he turned away from the water's edge.

  Following him, the group was careful not to be seen as they dipped secretively away, deep into the dark, damp forests that surrounded the small village of Lund just half an hour's drive from Powell River.

  With Chris up ahead, followed by Jo and Carmelo then Oliver at the rear, the group walked at a regular speed in order not to lose him.

  "Look, this is stupid. You guys are capable of covering huge distances at speed. You go on ahead without me. I'm just slowing you down. I shouldn't have insisted on coming along. Sorry, guys," said Oliver, realising how much weaker and slower he was than his vampire counterparts.

  "I guess you're right. Here, head back to the car," said Jo, tossing him the keys. "Actually, why don't you take the car back home. We'll catch up with you later on foot."

  "Good luck!" he yelled as the three of them disappeared right in front of his eyes.

  "Have a nice drive home..." he said to himself as he turned back. The ground beneath his feet was slippery and slimy and he struggled to remain on two feet as he grabbed the nearest tree trunk to prevent himself from falling.

  As he stood looking around, it suddenly dawned on him how eerie it was now he was alone. He shivered, thinking back to when Duran and his evil vampire crones were still alive. Had they found him alone now, they would have torn him apart, feasting on his blood.

  Leaping away from the tree he was practically hugging, Oliver soon forgot about the slipperiness of the ground beneath him and ran as fast as he could back towards the car. Horrible haunting thoughts filled his mind.

  As the thick trees began to open up, revealing cloud covered sunlight and the green-tinged blue ocean far off in the distance, he slowed, chuckling to himself at his erratic behaviour. But just as he thought all was clear, he heard movement behind him.

  His heartbeat thumped in his chest as he slowly turned to see what was so threatening. Laughter blurted from his lips as he took stock of the two innocent beavers gnawing at a tree just metres away. Looking up at him, almost in disgust at the rude interruption, they turned their backs on him and continued their gnawing as if he wasn't there.

  Oliver chuckled before walking out into the open, blustery air. Rubbing his hands together energetically, he headed to the warmth of the hotel, where he sat and ordered a hot cup of coffee to warm up before he headed back home, alone.

  #

  Stretching his arms out to his sides, with huge black wings strutting out from his shoulder blades, Sammy leaned back and accepted the glass of milk Tiffani handed to him before she sat down and sipped at her own warm drink.

  "Tell me about your homeland," he said after he downed it and returned the glass to the coffee table by his feet.

  Sensing her tension and seeing a tear develop in her eye, he quickly added, "but you don't have to if you don't want to. I wouldn't want you to get upset again."

  But it was too late. Tiffani's shoulders shuddered, her paper-like wings fluttered and tears sprung from her eyes as she recalled the home she missed so much.

  It wasn't just memories of home that led to Tiffani bawling her eyes out, it was the mention of anything remotely sad. She simply could not stop the tears from falling whenever she heard tales of woe.

  As he gently placed his hand over hers, Tiffani turned towards him and smiled, the tears receding.

  "Forgive me, Sammy. I wish I could stop this from happening but I cannot."

  "It's okay, it's a part of you. I think it's rather sweet actually."

  Blushing, Tiffani carefully wiped away the dampness from her rosy cheeks before taking another sip of her milk.

  "Argentumalea," she sighed. "That's my home. It is the kingdom of the Malean faeries, of which I am the chief's daughter. I have an older sister, Sheharazalea. How I miss them," she sobbed for a moment before continuing, "Argentumalea is within the silver forests of Moharth. Our kind is not permitted to venture far out of Moharth."

  "Why not?" he asked.

  A vague memory flashed within her mind, leading to a frown creasing her forehead, but she shook her head trying to rid the negative thoughts from her mind. The childhood myth was surely that... a myth? She shivered. But she knew there had to be some truth to it; she was no longer in Moharth, after all. She was trapped in a land far from home with no idea how to return.

  Sammy watched the pretty faery as all kinds of emotions etched across her face, but he didn't push for more details. She was obviously hurting and he didn't want to be the one who brought even more pain.

  Sensing his eyes on her, Tiffani smiled, "I'm sorry, I've been pushing these thoughts from my mind ever since I became lost."

  "No, I am the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have asked you. It's clearly still very painful for you. Let's talk about something else."

  "No Sammy, you were right to ask. How will I ever return home if I don't start remembering all of these things? The Elders tried to encourage me to talk about it before but I wasn't ready then. Although it is incredibly hard, I must remember. I want to go home. More than anything else in this world, I want to go home."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It had been several days since the faeries of Argentumalea had rescued him from near death. His recovery was going well and he was becoming increasingly stronger each day, yet he was still unable to recall what had happened prior to his rescue, or anything else for that matter. He didn't even know his own name.

  The only memory etched in his mind was of the decomposing corpse which lay in the ditch where he had been found.

  Had he been dumped? Presumed dead?

  Keen to discover what had happened, he asked Zalea (she had thought his continued failed attempts at pronouncing her name quite amusing, but in the end had suggested he settle on calling her Zalea instead) to try and help him reconnect with his missing memories.

  "I'm afraid I cannot help you with this matter, my dear, but I do know of someone who should be able to," she had answered, "but only when you are strong enough to walk."

  That time had arrived. He was now able to support his own body weight, thanks to the help of the faeries and the nourishing food and drink they had continued to ply him with. He was truly thankful, but he was now ready to get back to investigating who he was and where he had come from.

  Making sure he was warm enough, Zalea and her close friend, Ameleana, stood at his side helping him into a long white robe which they tied snuggly around his thin frame.

  "You are still a little weak and the cold air will only make you weaker unless you stay warm," smiled Ameleana. She was a tall, dark blue-haired faery with intense, yet cheeky, light blue eyes that matched the little wings that continuously fluttered behind her.

  "Thank you, but I do feel stronger. I think I can manage."

  "Very well," she answered, taking a little step backwards and watching as he leaned on a post temporarily, "Just a little dizzy. I haven't been on my feet for quite a while. Don't worry, I'm fine," he added as he adjusted the weight on his feet.

  Noticing the looks on the two faeries faces, he smirked, "honestly, I'm okay. I just needed to get my balance, that's all."

  "As long as you're s
ure?"

  After nodding, Zalea led them out of the simple room in which he had spent the last few days. They followed closely behind, walking away from their homes and deeper into the silver forests of Moharth.

  After just ten minutes of slow ambling, he stopped for a moment, leaning on the nearest tree as the two faeries turned and smiled at him.

  "Yes, you should rest for a moment. Do not worry though, we have almost reached our destination," said Zalea, pointing to an unusual silvery blue willow in the distance. "We are nearly there."

  Keen to get there, the man without a name gently pushed himself away from the soft silver fern covered tree and smiled at his companions with a nod before they continued on their way.

  Although the view of the sky was mostly blocked out by the huge array of trees in wildly different shades of silver and grey, it wasn't dark. The colours around them offered an almost consistent source of light, as if the trees were covered in a million beautiful faery lights. The effect was nothing less than dazzling.

  As they approached the weeping willow, a small figure slowly stepped out from beneath it.

  Dressed from head to toe in black and leaning on a crooked old stick, she stood waiting for their approach.

  "Sheharazalea and Ameleana... what a welcome surprise. And you bring a guest, how lovely, how lovely. How is your father, my dear?"

  Zalea approached the old lady and gently hugged her before offering her prettiest smile, "He is very well... very well."

  "You were never very good at hiding the truth, my dear. He may well be in good health, but your sister's disappearance sits dreadfully on his heart. As it does yours, my dear, as it does yours. But I have some news. I can tell you she is alive and well... and, I do believe her heart is somewhat lighter. She has friends. So please, worry not about her. Just know she is well."

  Zalea quickly wiped away a tear from her eye as the old lady turned to hug Ameleana gently, before focussing her attention to the man standing before her.