Chapter Six - The Sacrifice
“HOW MUCH LONGER have we got to go?” Dahlia wasn’t used to journeys on foot. The Beast had always been a pretty reliable little car and she hadn’t done much walking since she passed her driving test only a month after her seventeenth birthday. Jestin’s reply was spoken almost as a whisper.
“We need to get across these hunting grounds swiftly, whilst the fog is dense.”
“Hunting grounds? What do you mean hunting grounds?” Dahlias voice displayed a panic that echoed how I was suddenly feeling, although she still didn’t take the care to lower her voice.
“These marshes are directly next to Thistlewick forest. They are the perfect hunting grounds for Reaping birds, that’s why nothing is grown here.”
“Then why are we walking through the hunting grounds of a giant killer bird exactly?” Dahlia was still very much like a young child who becomes irritable when tired. Jestin remained collected in the face of Dahlia’s sudden mood swing
“How well do you swim?” He asked.
“A little but not very well, why do you ask?” Dahlia was confused.
“Because Dahlia, the only other way to reach your mother would have been to swim around the edge of the island. That would have taken around five days, provided you hadn’t drowned from the exhaustion.” Jestin had embarrassed Dahlia which therefore irritated her even more. Still, he was right, she needed to realise that we were both there to accompany her, to keep her safe. These haunting marshlands were the last place I would describe as safe. Much like the Forest, there was something otherworldly about Thistlewick Marshes. Here I felt the absence of home much more severely than in Blossomdown.
The black mud of the marshes stuck fast to our boots, my legs became heavier with each step. It was somewhat like walking through drying glue. The eerie silence, broken only by the splash of a heron as it fished in the marshes for food. A slight and wispy mist sat comfortably on the surface of the water, occasionally meandering onto the land and obscuring the path. I was worried that I might step right into one of the deep pools of water, not knowing what kind of dangerous and mysterious creatures lurked within them.
“This is disgusting.” Dahlia said loudly as peeled a strange weed-like plant from her boot.
“You are crossing a marsh, what did you expect?” Jestin asked in a whispered yet exasperated voice.
“I’m allowed to be grossed out. This is your world not mine.” She replied sharply.
“Correct me if I say this in error, but I was led to believe that the island you hail from has plenty of marsh areas.”
“Well yes, but I would never willingly walk through one.” Dahlia was oblivious to how ridiculous she sounded. Jestin continued onward without acknowledging her reply. There was a palpable atmosphere of tension between them. I couldn’t tell if it was because of an intense dislike or another kind of chemistry they had for one another. Selfishly I hoped it was dislike. I wasn’t over the moon with the idea of my best friend and my first serious love interest detesting each other, but it was preferable to them liking each other too much. On top of my parents being sent away, becoming trapped on an island that should not exist and finding out I had magical capabilities I could never have dreamed of. I don’t think that in my fragile state of mind, I could possibly take much more bad news.
We trudged on in silence for another few minutes. The scenery remained the same, wetlands, long grass and fog. Once you had become accustomed to the ghostly sense of the place, the landscape of Thistlewick Marshes was almost dull in its repetition. This odd sense familiarity lulled us into a sense of security. Our guard began to slip. Our movements became less deliberate, almost clumsy. Even the great Jestin managed to get his foot entrenched into one of the many small bog pools, much to Dahlia’s amusement. She supressed a girlish giggle that evolved into a thundering guffaw when I fell in a sticky pool of mud trying to help Jestin out of his predicament. I laughed along with her, knowing I looked ridiculous. The only one of us who wasn’t laughing was Jestin.
The suddenly serious look on his face made me feel a little unsettled. I had seen this look before, at the entrance of the forest. An ominous dark shadow filled the sky, blotting out the mid-day sun. The light reappeared again as quickly as it had departed but it was only seconds before the ominous shadow was upon is once again. I looked above to see the cause, a huge black bird with a wingspan that was at least four meters long was circling just above our heads. Frozen in shock as she raised her view to the sky, Dahlia did not move a muscle. Nor did Jestin, his only movement was a slight signal with his hand. It was a warning to keep still. I felt the panic rise within me, fizzing to my head, making me feel dizzy. Tensing every muscle, I tried to remain motionless but a defiant rush of adrenaline made my body feel like a tightly wound spring ready to erupt at any moment. The malevolent bird circled again, casting shade where there should have been light. My eyes dart from Dahlia to Jestin and back again as I began to slowly reach for my bow. A slight shake of the head from Jestin is a warning to me not to continue with the movement. I stop; my hand sits in an uncomfortable position as I hold it still in the air. The bird jerks in a downward swooping movement, as If readying itself to swoop. Still Jestin holds firm, his eyes are pleading with me to trust him, to keep my nerve. With the ‘fight or flight’ instinct truly kicking in, every fibre of my being is telling me to attack but I deny the urge. I am sensible enough, even in my current panic, to realise that Jestin knows Thistlewick and its predators much better than I do. His instincts are probably a thousand times more acute. I remain still as the bird circles one last time before soaring away into the sun. We collectively let out a breath of relief.
“We must continue with caution.” Jestin began in a hushed voice. “We are close now.” I took Dahlia’s hand as she lifted me from my spot on the ground and held on as we walked across the marshes. She was trembling, I didn’t know if it was because of the threat of the terrifying Reaping bird or because we were close to where her mother was. I suspect it’s a little of both. I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, my own hand clasped tightly around hers. She responded with a nervous smile, I smiled back. We didn’t have to speak; she knows I am here no matter what happens when we finally reach Thistlewick Castle, a truth that does not need to be spoken aloud between old friends. Although it was obvious she was nervous I was happy for Dahlia, she would finally meet her mother. It was all she had spoken about since finding out her mother lived here on Falinn Galdur. It wasn’t hard to see how badly she had craved such a meeting, even with her deep-seated fear of being rejected. After all, she was not the kind of girl that would take hiking through dense woodland and sleeping in a mud den lightly.
I missed my own mother I hadn’t heard her voice now in over a week. ‘They are safer without you for now Violet’ I had told myself over and over but it hadn’t stopped the tears. I let them fall to the ground making small tracks on my muddied face, tiny rivers of anguish unseen by my companions. The excitement and fear of the last few hours began to weigh heavily on me and my tears served as a cathartic release of tension and emotion. Being a typical northern girl, I rarely allowed myself to cry. Crying is seen as weakness where I come from, even if there is a good reason for your tears. I didn’t care, Jestin and Dahlia couldn’t have seen them because the dense fog made it almost impossible to see anything at all. I doubted that they would have anyway. They were so desperate to avoid each other after three days together that Jestin walked three paces in front whilst Dahlia slowed behind. I jabbed my hand into my leather sack, seeking out a small cloth rag that Bugul had given me. Before I could find the soft cloth to wipe away my tears, I felt the unfamiliar sensation of something smooth and hard against my hand. I tugged my cracked, pink plastic mobile phone out of my bag. The charge had gone but there was no signal anyway. Even if the three little bars did miraculously appear in the corner of the phone, there would be no one at home to call. I replaced the phone at the bottom of the sack. I didn’t know if it w
as sheer enervation, or because Bugul’s story was still vivid in my mind but I felt the loss of my family more than ever as we walked through the clouded lonely fields.
The mud thickened and the fog cleared slightly. Large pools of water began, gradually, to devolve into smaller puddles. The water settled in them was not murky brown that it might have been in the kind of puddles from my home, the puddles I am accustomed to. Instead, it is an odd shade of translucent turquoise that I had never seen before. Occasionally we passed ducks floating contently in the very largest of the puddles. The ducks were as odd to me as the turquoise water. They look almost exactly like the ones at home, apart from a small difference in colour that gave them the appearance of an altogether different creature. Instead of the usual forest greens and bright yellows of the ducks I had grown up feeding in the park, these ducks were a dull silver colour with golden bronze beaks and feet. It served as another reminder to me that I wasn’t at home. I was somewhere new and different, somewhere I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams.
Before he stopped speaking altogether and stormily trudged off ahead, Jestin mentioned that we should look out for a wooden signpost, which would be our meeting point with the Banshee Rosamaylind. I read in Thistlewick a Geography that only a Banshee could find the entrance to the stone castle on the marshes. Thistle Castle, the Banshees’ home, notoriously guarded by a shroud of powerful Banshee magic placed upon it hundreds of years ago during a violent war between the Banshees and the Worlen. The two races had not trusted each other since, but they had come together in the fight against Agrona. There had been an uneasy and unofficial truce in place ever since. I wondered if Dahlia would have found Thistle Castle? I couldn’t see why not, she was half-Banshee after all.
As we neared the point where the post stood, I could see the figure of a tall and shapely auburn-haired woman relaxing easily against the heavy wood. When we drew nearer and her physical features became clearer, it was evident that she was stunningly beautiful. She had huge doe eyes and a plump but subtle mouth. Her long eyelashes and red cheeks gave her a youthful quality that, apparently, all Banshees possessed or at least according to Bettery they did. She wore a soft green dress that clung to her shapely figure and bellowed out dramatically at her feet, which were bare yet unsullied by the dirt and foliage on the marshes. The only feature that indicated she was anything other than human was her intense lilac eyes. Her eyes added an element of curiosity to her gaze, they were the point at which she ceased to be just another beautiful woman and became instead, a mystical creature full of mystery and danger. As we approached she gave a short cordial smile. Her bright beauty radiated in the grey and misty marsh land and her soft Irish voice contrasted with the harsh environment of the marshes.
“Pleased to see you again Jestin. Your brother waits at the castle for you. He feels you have urgent business to discuss. Vidca will be waiting near the gates to show you in.”
“Thank you Rosamaylind, I will go on ahead in a moment.” Jestin pulled my arm so that I faced him and without speaking, he gently wiped the tear marks from my face. He let his hand linger on my cheek for a moment. It was only a moment and then he was gone, pounding at full speed into the mist. My heart broke with every step that he took, knowing that now we were in the safety of the Banshees, Jestin would be leaving to go back to Forge Gate and lead his army once more.
“Well you must be Violet and you Dahlia.” Rosamaylind turned to Dahlia, her face beaming with emotion “I am your aunt Rosamaylind I was the first person in this world to hold you, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you now my niece.” Dahlia smiled but her nervousness distorted her usually resplendent smile into something unnatural and forced. I could understand why she was so afraid. Underneath all the confidence and humour, she had always been a little unsure of herself. Dahlia was uncharacteristically quiet as she took her aunts hand and let herself be led towards the castle. I guessed she must have been totally awestruck by the whole situation. I know I was.
After around half a mile of slogging through the wetlands, we finally arrived at the huge glass drawbridge entrance of the stone castle. Another radiantly beautiful woman, this time in a red velour dress, dropped the drawbridge. I expected it to smash but instead it glided softly towards the floor and stopped just short of landing in the mud, hovering above it instead. As we crossed the cool glass I looked down into the moat imagining to see mudded water and unusually coloured ducks, instead I saw an oddly coloured mist. It was pure white and flowing at a slow pace, it reminded me of a veil ruffled gently by the wind.
Once over the drawbridge we crossed a small, cobbled courtyard that ran around the outside of the castle. Lilac thistle bushes framed the edges of the castle walls. A huge marble statue of a golden haired woman stood as the centrepiece of the yard. The woman must have been royalty, with a spiked silver crown sitting abreast her thick golden hair, she proudly held out a frightful looking scythe. The blade was embellished with three iridescent diamonds that reflected the smallest ray of sunlight into a thousand little rainbows bouncing around the yard. I tore my eyes away from the entrancing vision of this majestic woman and looked to the huge ivory coloured entrance doors. There didn’t appear to be any handles on the magnificent doors, instead there was a depiction of three wild horses, about to dart across the marshland. Rosamaylind gave one of the engravings a slight pat on the rear and the whinnying horses reared up onto their hind legs and then set off at speed across the doorway, the door opening with their advance.
The castle inside was unlike any stereotypical castle I had seen. The old regalia-crammed buildings preserved for tourist and school trippers that I had been used to were a world away from here. The walls were plain stone but the decorations lacked the pomp that was usually associated with the interior of such a grand building. There were delicate glass flowers, ranging from the majestic rose to the humble daisy, all blown in careful detail. Huge tapestries made up of complexly woven purple and silver threads of varying shades hung from the walls, reaching down to the comfortable wooden floors. Orbs of light that levitated in bright silver cages made the castle bright throughout. We removed our mud-sodden shoes at the entrance, not wanting to dirty the pristine cleanliness of the place. As we advanced down the corridor, we passed huge arch-shaped windows framed by glistening silver and thickset satin curtains. The windows seemed to be systematically built into the larger stonework walls to provide meeting places for groups of Banshees. In the bay of one window a few Banshees were gathered, discussing the stars and the rotation of the moon, they seemed to think there was trouble ahead. The females wore attire in a plethora of colours and soft materials that were similar in design to the one Rosamaylind wore. The males seemed to prefer the colours black and grey for their long dress robes. Their upturned collars reminded me of a modern celebrity trend. They were equally as beautiful as the females although their eyes were a much deeper shade of purple. One blonde haired Banshee male called to Rosamaylind as we passed and they exchanged a curious look, a secret look that wasn’t meant to be noticed. Rosamaylind didn’t stop to talk or even slow her pace, instead she apologised to the disappointed looking male, explaining that she needed to see Queen Evangelista. We followed the corridor around to another set of huge glass doors. This time a giant E blown with as much deliberate detail as the earlier flowers, adorned the glasswork. Dahlias breathing became heavier. I could feel the nervousness and excitement exuding from her. I reached for her hand and squeezed my support as the doors flung open.
The chamber inside was glorious. Fine purple fabrics hung around the room, bellowing out from the stone walls, they made the room appear warm and comfortable. Smooth silver benches were situated around the edges of the vast chamber. A white feathered rug ran the length of the room. The softness and luxury of the rug were exaggerated because of the angry blisters emerging on the soles of my feet. Dahlia, who had grasped my hand at the entrance, was now holding tightly to the ends of my fingers as if she was afraid she might fall thro
ugh the ground beneath her. I squeezed back firmly to let her know that I was there for her. Looking towards the end of the chamber, there was a small rounded pool of some kind of silver substance. In it sat a huge stone work throne. There, on the elegant throne, the Queen of the Banshees was waiting patiently to be reunited with her daughter, her face remained unchanged as we made our way towards where she sat.
Queen Evangelista was unmistakeably the most beautiful being in existence. Her deep black hair shone, even in the dimming evening light of the throne chamber, her thick black eyelashes framed her lilac eyes that glistened like strangely coloured diamonds. Her defined cheekbones sat perfectly on her face rounding to her lips that, much like her sisters, were both plump and yet small and youthful. Her Attire was similar to the other Banshees but she was the only one who wore the deep purple that, I guessed, signified royalty. The plunged neck rim of her dress, emblazoned with hundreds of tiny sapphires framing her strong collarbone perfectly. The crown that sat on her head, designed with a Celtic twist, two interwoven bands of silver adorned with the same black sapphires as the dress. I found her both enchanting and intimidating. Weeping, Dahlia released the tight grip she held upon my fingers and flung herself towards this strange yet beautiful woman. The Queen replied by stepping down from her throne with open arms and comforted Dahlia at her breast, a sigh of contentment escaping from her lips as if she had been waiting with baited-breath until she could hold her child again. A new tear found its way into my eye but this time it was a tear of happiness.
Watching the relief that Dahlia and her mother were now feeling, having the chance to be reunited, I imagined how tightly I would hold my mother when it was finally safe for me to return home. A cracking sound emitting from behind me broke my musing. I turned to the delicate glass door behind me to see a small abrasion in the door become large lightning shaped crack. The sound that had begun as if a tiny foot was stepping on a frozen lake was now coming to a crescendo, like the lake was about to break free from its icy prison as the huge glass doors erupted behind us. Raindrops of tiny glass shards settled on the feather rug, the sharpness of them juxtaposing with the soft gentleness of the feathers. I scanned the shocked faces around me. Queen Evangelista, whose stern face now surveyed the crack in her huge glass door, was the only one whose mouth was not held agape in surprise. The guard that stood directly to the left of the queen dived for the ground, covering her head with her arms protectively. The minute diamonds of glass cracked underfoot as Bettery scurried through the newly created entrance. She was closely followed by Merl who, shouting behind him.
“See there, now you have not disobeyed your orders. I have in-fact let myself in to the room. Therefore you are not going to have to suffer any consequences from your queen.” Merl swivelled on his heel, turning away from a stunned looking Banshee guard who was desperately eyeing the damage. Evangelista shot Merl an angry glare that sent shivers down my spine
“Merrydian, I‘m glad to see you have lost none of your usual decorum, ploughing into my throne room like a cave ogre with a headache.”
Merl however was unafraid of the foreboding Banshee.
“Ah yes, well it is easily fixed is it not?” He turned back towards the door and waved his hands at the shards of glass scattered across the floor, chanting an incantation, he manipulated huge glass pieces and the tiniest sand like shards, through the air towards were the door had stood. In less time than it had taken him to destroy it, the door was restored to its former beauty. He turned back towards the angry faces awaiting him with the blissful ignorance of a six-year-old child, smiling at himself, his restoration a job well done. His proud smile only left his face when he caught sight of the guard who was still shivering on the floor, her arms obscuring her head.
“Get up you ruddy nincompoop.” He stated rather unsympathetically.
“Kevren, take Skylark to the great hall, have the cooks make her some marsh weed tea.” Evangelista commanded to another, blonde-haired guard, who had just appeared in the renewed doorway. The blonde-haired guard crossed the room and helped her terrified peer to her feet. Poor Skylark was still visibly shivering as she left the room.
“She is new to her post, her family was attacked by a dragon, and she was the sole survivor.” Evangelista explained. “I want to keep her close for the moment.”
“That is no small feat, to survive a dragon.” Merl stated impressed.
“Indeed.” Evangelista agreed.
I watched as Bettery stretched her neck out to search the faces in the room. I caught her eye as she noticed me stood to the right of Dahlia and came toward me with her small arms outstretched, reaching out in a gesture of embrace. I bent into Bettery’s warm hug with an untold sense of gratitude. She had become a mother figure to me ever since the day she had found me in the belfry on the beach and I was more grateful for her presence now than I had ever been.
“Oh deary, I’m so glad you’re alright, we heard about the poison we did, them Spriggans, we should have warned you.” She licked her finger and used it to wipe some of the dried mud from my forehead. Merl furrowed his brow disapprovingly.
“My beard! What sort of nincompoop learns how to conjure light and then doesn’t use this knowledge when confronted with creatures such as Spriggans.”
I was a little shocked by his frankness, although I probably shouldn’t have been by now.
“I didn’t know that was the reason you taught me the spell, you didn’t really explain at the time.” I shot back defensively.
“Foolish girl, you have the book don’t you, that explains it all in there.” Merl stated. He seemed more impatient than usual. I guess he didn’t really enjoy being away from his home in Blossomdown and the journey to Thistlewick clearly did not fill him with joy.
“Some of the pages in the Dangerous Beings chapter are missing.” I stated stubbornly. Merl looked a little perplexed and retired to the nearest silver bench stroking his beard. “Will we be going back to Blossomdown in the morning Bettery?” I asked, wondering where the rest of my time in Falinn Galdur was going to be spent. Bettery looked at me, a motherly concern etched on her features, she could probably tell that I was yearning for the familiarity of the first place I had known on the island.
“No deary, there’s something quite important that we need to talk about tomorrow we do. Court will be called in the throne room at midday. For now deary I’ll wager you need some sleep.”
Bettery took me to the room I was to stay in, explaining that it wasn’t as luxurious as the other rooms within the castle because it was situated in the narrow cylinder watch tower which meant it was very small. Apparently, the Banshees only used these rooms when Worlen guests were present at the castle. I was shown to a wrought iron door that led off the spiral staircase that ran through the centre of the tower.
The room was an odd sort of curve shape with a mural of stars and comets skilfully painted onto the wall. The bed that curved with the room was dressed with a black silk blanket and duck down stuffed throw pillows. A single candle sat in the circular open window to bring light as the darkness set in. I blew it out and lay on the comfortable crescent moon shaped bed. I was exhausted after our trip and my feet served as a pounding reminder of just how much walking I had done in the last three days. I pulled my water jug out from beneath the bed and tipped a little over my aching soles, the cool water stemmed the heat and I began to relax a little. I used the rest of the water to wash myself. I pulled on the leaf green Banshee robes, left on the bed for me. I took off my wicker necklace and placed it into my leather sack for safekeeping. After yesterdays cramped underground bunker, I was grateful for a room of my own. I was in much need of a space to relax and absorb my new surroundings. I gazed out of the window. The marshes at night were a truly mystical place, with the fog gently resting over the land like a warm blanket, the dull grey below me made the stars above seem ever brighter as they twinkled in the sky. I let the light of the newly full moon wash over me as I looked out towards the forest and
Bugul.
“Goodnight Bugul, sleep well.” I whispered as I finally succumbed to exhaustion.
Once again, I was transported back to the field. The snarling Gnarl was ready to pounce. Stripped of my longbow, I was weak and vulnerable. I stood waiting for the Gnarl to attack but it didn’t. Instead, the drooling creature was looking beyond me, like an impatient yet obedient dog waiting for the command. I turned, the grass tickling my feet with the movement. It seemed odd that I should get the sudden urge to laugh when I was in such immediate danger. The urge was soon gone when I turned to see that behind me was a hooded figure, a human shaped figure, around six feet tall. I couldn’t see the face of the shrouded mysterious character,
‘Kill her!’ it was a gentle whisper to the Gnarl behind me.
As my own screams once again shocked me into consciousness I realised that I wasn’t alone in my room. Two beams of yellow light shone through the darkness from the wooden chair directly at the side of my bed. I felt a mixture of both shock and relief
“Jestin! How long have you been here?” A maleficent chuckle, the initial reply, this was not Jestin.
“I have been by your side since the moment you closed your eyes Violet. What a silent sleeper you are. You could have been dead and I wouldn’t have noticed at all, that is until the scream. Quite disturbing, I must admit I wasn’t expecting that.” I felt angry at the intruder’s audacity, using my name as if he knew me, the threatening tone to his voice made it clear that he wasn’t my friend.
“Who are you and what do you think you’re doing in here?” A heat began to rise in my cheeks.
“Now, now calm down. This is no way to speak to a future king.” The voice was soft and discreet, not wanting to be overheard but at the same time menacing. I was confused. The person in my room seemed to be suffering from unattainable delusions of grandeur.
“But Banshees don’t have kings.” Was this some kind of prank or test? I couldn’t be sure.
“Correct. What a bright young creature you are, no wonder my brother wanted me to maintain a distance from you. Of course, Banshees do not have kings. Worlen, on the other hand, do.” Now the voice was smug and filled with self-serving satisfaction. My mouth fell open in shock. The person sat in my room, watching over me as I slept, was the Worlen prince and Jestin’s older brother.
“What do you want with me?” Before the smug voice could answer, I heard Jestin call out from the other side of the door.
“Violet are you well? I heard a scream.” The prince leaned forward into the moonlight so that I could see his face. He raised one finger to his lips to gesture that I should not tell Jestin of his presence.
“Oh sorry if I woke you, it was nothing just a bad dream.” I thought I sounded as convincingly calm.
“Do you want me to come and sit with you?” The prince shook his head from left to right.
“Erm no, no thank you I’m just going to go back to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.” I faked a yawn, it seemed to be enough for Jestin, I could hear his footsteps as he ascended the stairs to his room further up the tower. Every step he took away from me was heavier than the last. The smug prince chuckled quietly as he sat back into the darkness.
“You are more intelligent than most of your kind Violet, you would do well to remain so.” After a few intimidating minutes of silence, he got up quietly and left the room closing the door behind him. I didn’t sleep again during my time in Thistlewick Castle without a bolt firmly securing my door.
The next morning I immediately went to find Dahlia, she was my closest confidant for all of my teenage years and I needed someone to talk to about my experience with the prince last night. I practically sprinted towards the royal quarters where Queen Evangelista had given Dahlia the room adjacent to her own. I found her sat on a four-poster bed, silk curtains draped across the rafters, with her head tucked under her arms, she was sobbing gently. The sound made my ears ache not only because she was half Banshee but because I had never heard her cry so much before.
“Dahlia what’s wrong?” I asked sympathetically. Dahlia, who hadn’t even noticed that I’d entered the room, lifted her head and wiped her tears on the elongated sleeve of her shimmering silver dress.
“I was just thinking about my mother, and what she had to go through. She didn’t want to leave me you know. She had no choice. The treaty that your stupid wizard made meant that humans and magical being aren’t supposed to interact, never mind have children. When I was born to a queen no less, I had to be left with my father for my own safety, so that other magical beings wouldn’t destroy me to keep the treaty intact. The Worlen in particular seem to want things to be left the way they were, apparently they are not so happy about the way werewolves are regarded as monsters by the human race. Do you know what that did to her? A mother having to abandon her child like that? To surrender her own happiness for the good of her people?”
I didn’t know how to answer Dahlia. Her usual façade, the strong-headed quick-witted young woman she had become, all melted away. She had been replaced by the vulnerable and confused girl I had only ever known Dahlia to be when things got really bad for her. I didn’t have any answers for her. I couldn’t imagine the sacrifice the queen had made giving up her daughter, so instead I went and sat beside her, placing my arm around her shoulders.
“You’re together now though Dahlia. Merl says Ambrose is flying to your home with a letter to your father explaining that you’ve found your mother and you’re spending a couple of months together.” Dahlia managed a weak smile at the thought of spending time at Thistle Castle. I could see why, she was certainly going to be treated like the princess she was judging by the size of her room. She put her arm over my shoulder in return,
“Hey Vi, remember when Rachel Dunstun wanted to fight me that day after school in year seven?” I was perplexed as to where this was leading but I was happy to go with it.
“Yeah Dahlia, well you did pinch her boyfriend if I’m not mistaken.” I laughed, Dahlia faked a look of indignation
“They had been broken up a full two hours thank you very much and that’s not the point. She wanted to fight me and I’ll admit I was scared. I mean she was about twice my height and her arms were huge but you Vi, you came with me you said it was me and you. If she hit me she hit you, you gave me the strength to leave school that day and stand up for myself because I was standing up for you too.”
I laughed at the memory.
“Yeah she wasn’t there though was she? I’m glad to be honest. She did have really muscular arms.” We looked at each other and laughed together. I decided that now was a good time to ask what she thought about last night’s intrusion.
“Look Dahlia I need your opinion about something…” Before I could finish the sentence, a deliberately loud and fake cough interrupted me.
“I hope you ladies can forgive the imposition. I heard a rumour that a beautiful princess had arrived at the castle and I couldn’t help but wonder if it were true. I am pleased to say I’m not disappointed. I was hoping I may have the pleasure of getting better acquainted with you princess.” I followed the smooth, smug voice from the night before to the doorway. In the light of day, I could see the prince was stunningly handsome. His medium length brown hair had a natural neat spike to it, his eyes were the same green as Jestin’s but they were made less intense by his thickly curled lashes. His face was well chiselled and clean-shaven, apart from a thin line of beard that framed the lower half of his face. His regal attire and delicate mannerisms made him seem more refined than his younger brother. He was taller than Jestin and slightly less muscular. Dahlias mouth was agape. My frustration at not being able to speak to my friend turned to anger at her obvious attraction to this arrogant creep.
“If you don’t mind, we were having a private conversation.” I tried to remain cordial but something about the prince instantly got under my skin. Dahlia winked at me cheekily
“It can wait cant it Vi? I think I should get a firmer handle on Worle
n culture, what with Prince Idris here being a guest of my mothers.” Dahlia developing a crush on Prince Weirdo was the last thing I wanted but how could I explain that to her when he was right there in the room. I decided the best course of action was to let them spend time together, Dahlia was a little vain at times but even she would not have been immune to the eeriness of Prince Idris’s unsettling presence. Devilishly handsome or not, there was no way he was going to manipulate her.
After meeting Bettery and Merl for breakfast in the main hall, I decided to seek out the communal bathroom. Bettery mentioned that Banshees skin is repellent to dirt and mud, so it was very rare that anyone ever used it. I set off, confident that I would be alone and desperate for a chance to bathe the smell of moss and damp woodland off my skin. I wondered around the twisting corridors for a while, finally finding the marble door with a thistle emblem that Bettery had described around half an hour earlier. As I pushed open the huge marble slab door, I chuckled inwardly at the idea of Dahlia trying to think of excuses to get away from Prince Idris.
The largely ignored bathroom was as breathtaking as the rest of the castle. White marble covered the stone walls, giving the room a brilliant light. My eyes adjusted to this easily enough. Underneath a magnificent blazing sun sky light, a tall rose shaped fountain drizzled out warm water into a dip in the marble that created a large circular pool. An almost translucent red mist floated delicately above the waters giving the pool a more ethereal character.
I folded my clothes and left them at the edge of the pool. Wading into the warm water, I breathed in the pleasant smells of floral bouquets and strawberry that escaped from the misty vapours as they rose towards the sky light. I spent a while bathing. The feel of the fresh fountain water, renewing the softness of my skin and banishing the dirt of the forest, was invigorating. I began rinsing my hair underneath one of the many showers of water that tricked from the crumples in the petals and leaves of the rose. I looked over towards the edge of the water noticing that my pile of clothes seemed to have moved. The bundle looked larger than when I walked away and different, duller colours were present making up the bulk of the pile. My tranquil relaxation now turned to panic, someone else was in the water and now here I stood, utterly exposed. If I was going to make my escape without being completely humiliated, I needed to know where the other bather was.
As I gazed around the fountain base, my answer stood at the opposite side of the pool. Jestin, who was bathing in the drizzling water was equally as surprised to see me, as I was to see him. If I had not been devastatingly embarrassed that, here I stood exposed in the water with nothing but the fountain to hide me, I may have experienced my usual happiness at his presence. His curled black hair had not lost its corkscrew vibrancy in the water, which dripped from his face down his muscular chest. I didn’t want to embarrass either of us by staring any longer so instead I chose to hide directly behind the fountain.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise you were in here, I would never..” My voice was shaking. Jestin laughed lightly
“Don’t apologise, I was coming to find you after I’d finished anyway. These tranquil waters are as good a place as any for us to talk in private.” Jestin didn’t look around the fountain as he talked, which I was grateful for.
“You were coming to find me? What for? I thought now we had reached Thistlewick you’d be on your way home to Forge Gate?” I found it difficult to hide the discontent I felt at the prospect of having to part with him.
“I believe you may have already encountered my brother Prince Idris?” I was glad that he hadn’t seemed to notice the disappointed tone in my voice.
“If you mean the handsome creep who seems to have designs on my friend, then yes I have had the misfortune of meeting him.” I had already made the decision not to tell Jestin about Idris coming to my bedroom. I didn’t want to overcomplicate a situation when I wasn’t even sure what the situation was yet. We were due to meet in the throne room soon to discuss the important business that Bettery had mentioned earlier in the day.
“Stay away from him Violet, promise me. He maybe handsome but he’s not as harmless as he appears. You cannot trust him,” Jestin was almost pleading with me.
“Jestin I’m not interested in him, he’s conceited and arrogant. He’s nothing like you.” The direct comparison coupled with my outburst on the way to Thistlewick Forest was giving slightly more of me away than I had intended. The heat that returned to my cheeks had nothing to do with anger. Rather it came from the crippling embarrassment to which I was now subjecting myself. I heard a sigh escape from Jestin’s mouth.
“I feel the same about you Violet.” My heart was thumping in my chest at the words I never imagined I would hear. “I know you feel uncomfortable when I talk to Dahlia, but she isn’t you. Your kind, honest and brave and it’s you I feel for, even if nothing can happen between us for both our sakes.” My heart stopped completely and then sunk into the pit of my stomach.
“I have promised to protect you and I will uphold that promise till I draw my final breath.” He drew a long deep breath. Even without looking at him, I could tell this conversation was just as difficult for Jestin as it was for me. “Forgive me Violet but as General of the Worlen army I also have an oath to uphold to my people, even if that entails sacrificing my own personal happiness to do so.” I didn’t want to be the stereotypical teenage girl crying at the rejection of a handsome boy but I couldn’t help the tears as they fell into the red mist. I drew some water up to my face and washed the emotional evidence of my heartbreak away.