Chapter Six - Embraced May She Be
I LAY GUILTILY in the comfort of my room in Merl's home wondering how I could ever have been so ungrateful with a roof above my head. Yes, the bed was a little hard. Yes, the room was a little cold but I was safe and protected. I traced the small, circled areas of the map with my fingers knowing I was miles away from him. I knew he was alive somewhere, I felt it somehow. I wished my life wasn't so stupidly complicated at the moment, I wished I could go searching too, but I had a duty to the people I'd wronged and their needs came before mine. I reasoned to myself that I hadn't erased myself from my parents' lives to fall at my biggest hurdle. It was only this kind of thinking that got me through each moment, that drove me in my task, that chased away the fear of the curse. I'd sacrificed too much to falter now. My chest felt tight, I inhaled deeply and held my breath for a while in an attempt to rid myself of the suffocating feeling.
At least Ebla was searching. She was a more adequate candidate for the job anyway. She had both useful navigating skills that I did not possess and a good knowledge of Galdur Wood. It looked like she had been searching for a while so she must have made some detours on her way to Blossomdown. It was so brave of her to dare to stay in the area when she knew what might await her if she was caught.
The search must have been the reason that Merl was being so uncharacteristically friendly towards Elba. I suspect he didn't want to distract me from my task of completing the spell by letting me in on the hunt. Maybe he thought that if I knew Elba was searching for Jestin then I would insist on going along too. If that was what Merl thought, then he was wrong. My plan since the hut had been to gain whatever strength the spell might imbue me with, use that strength to fight Agrona and then if I survived I would find Jestin. There had been moments when I'd hoped a search might be on the cards but realistically I knew that wasn't likely. Knowing Elba was looking for him in the time being was consoling. I would return the map to its hiding place in the middle of the night when the entire household was asleep.
Well almost the entire household, Rosamaylind was still staying with us. Elba had already retired to the observatory room and Bettery had headed home a while ago, Merl's snoring was loud enough that it could be heard from my room, a heavy snort followed by a low inhuman grumbling. That left only Rosamaylind. She didn't sleep, but after a while she always returned to the room Merl had given her for 'contemplation' as she called it. She'd chosen the room with a giant B engraved onto the heavy oak door. I'd been in there a couple of times.
It was a pleasant room, decorated with all kinds of nature themed stonework statues. There were birds, a recurring theme throughout the household. There were also other kinds of beautifully made carvings, like the smooth-winged beetles or the lightly made fireflies that hung daintily from the roof. The furniture was a welcoming honey-coloured wicker, including the wicker bed and numerous plants and herbs grown messily on the wide windowsill. I could understand why this room helped Rosamaylind contemplate. It was incredible in its naturalistic character.
I waited for most of the night and into the early morning but Rosamaylind did not go to her room. She was still in the sitting room the next morning, watching as her breath danced ethereally around the living room. It took the shapes of people, some I recognised some I'd never seen before. It was a remarkable sight. Rosamaylind was an artist and her art was alive.
"It's beautiful." I breathed after a few moments.
"Violet! I did not hear you approach." With Rosamaylind's concentration broken, the breath dissipated into the air it was born from.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to interrupt."
"It's fine Violet, I have been searching all night anyway. You have given me an excuse to take a much required rest. She smiled.
"When you say searching?" I asked intrigued.
"My visions are my gift and my curse. I have no ability to control them. They call to me and my power is to listen, not to answer." She looked out of the small crooked window at nothing in particular, staring out beyond Blossomdown village toward the vast pea-green and yellow fields. Droplets of rain began to adorn the thin windowpane, obscuring the breath-taking view of Blossomdown.
"A weatherwoman." The words came directly from my thoughts like a wave breaching the floodgate that was my mouth before I knew what was coming.
"Sorry?" Rosamaylind asked bemused.
"A weatherwoman." I repeated embarrassed. "Where I come from there are people that make predictions about what will happen with the weather. Although they don't have the same inbuilt talent you have, they use scientific tools to make predictions, they can tell you that a storm is on its way but they can't do anything to change it." It sounded as silly as I worried it might.
"Yes, I like that term." Rosamaylind laughed gently. "I am Falinn Galdur's weatherwoman."
"Then I hope you can answer something that's been bothering me for a while." I asked imbued with bravery from the friendly tone of our conversation.
"I will try my best but I must warn you, I cannot see everything." She answered shaking her head uncertainly.
"Is there a storm coming?" I asked now feeling an urgent sense of seriousness.
"No not a storm." She answered gravely, "It is a tempest of the most violent making that threatens in its severity to blot out the light of the sun."
I made my excuses and left, wondering through the village in my usual disguise I eventually ended up at Bettery's floral cottage. I hadn't intended on visiting with Bettery today but as I followed the path that took me past the cottage, I noticed the door was ajar. Bettery wouldn't have left the door like that, not with Agrona and the Gnarls around, in-fact even before Agrona had arisen, Bettery always had her door bolted shut. I raced down the path at break-neck speed, which resulted in me catching the end of my foot on a grove in the ground. I almost careered into the hard grey stone path before catching myself at the last minute and pushing forward. To anybody watching, which luckily for me there was not, it might have seemed like a strange reaction to a slightly ajar door but with the dark cloud of Agrona and her Gnarl army looming over the island I wasn't going to take any chances. Dreading that something terrible could have happened I surged through the door like a bull who'd seen red. Hurtling ungracefully over the threshold and coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of an outstretched Balthus snoring peacefully on Bettery's small but comfortable sofa. At his feet sat Crone playing quietly with some small Worlen shaped wooden soldiers Balthus had gifted to him over the winter. He was so engrossed in his game that he hadn't even realised I was stood, like some half-crazed crackpot, over him in the doorway. I watched for a short while, entranced by the innocent little boy sat before me who had not so very long ago been put to work in the unforgiving mountains of Forge Gate by the spiteful King Alphus. The clunky and unsure way he moved the figures around was testament to the fact the Crone was a child who, until recently, hadn't had much time to play.
"Hello Crone." I whispered as I walked around Balthus's huge mass to take a seat at the side of him.
"Hello." He smiled back. He and Balthus were the only two Worlen in Blossomdown willing to speak to me after Agrona and her Gnarls had overrun Forge Gate and taken many of their peers hostage. "Do you want to play?" He asked excitedly.
"Of course, what are we playing?" I took one of the figures from his outstretched hand and examined its tiny features. With its twisted curls and hunters attire, I instantly regretted picking this particular figure.
"You have General Jestin." He stated enthusiastically. My stomach lurched but the smile on my face remained intact. "I have Doran the captain of his guard, he's my favourite figure." Crone smiled downward at the little wooden toy in his hand. Balthus gave a huge snore that rumbled around the room before kicking his silver leg over the back of the small sofa and resuming his slumber.
"Who are we fighting?" I asked, swallowing the lump that had begun to form in my throat.
"Bettery won't let me have Gnarl figures. She says she doesn't want
them horrible creatures in her cottage in any form. I've made these myself, she doesn't know about them." Crone answered guiltily as he pulled two stuffed cotton figures out of his corduroy trouser pocket. The figures were twisted and fraying but the likeness for the ugly Gnarl creatures was a good one.
"I won't tell." I promised, knowing how much Bettery despised Gnarls. "Do you want to see something magic?" I asked over the low rumbling snoring sound that Balthus was now making. Crone nodded uncertainly seeming a little bewildered. I poked the Jestin figure sharply with my second figure, "Deffro" I commanded. Merl had taught me the trick over the long winter. I watched now as Crone's eyes lit up more with each figure that jumped to life before them.
The figures looked like little mice running around the room aimlessly, trying to avoid capture by the comparatively gigantic Crone who was now chasing them gleefully. The twisted cotton Gnarls proved easiest to catch, their misshapen mouths emitting tiny growls as he tucked them back into his pocket. The Jestin and Doran figures proved much more difficult as they darted up the slumberous Balthus's arm and into the thicket of black curls that tumbled towards his shoulders. Even as we disentangled Doran from Balthus's hair and the Jestin figure disappeared down the front of his leaf green tunic, Balthus did not wake. I leaned in more closely to try and grab at the wayward Jestin figure before quickly recoiling from the intense stench of ale on his breath. He was drunk!
"What's the matter?" Crone asked innocently.
"Oh nothing." I lied. I didn't usually make a habit of lying but I didn't want Crone to worry. "Where is Bettery?" I asked casually, I should have asked as soon as I walked in but I had been distracted by playing with Crone.
"She's gone with Delpha to help with the settlement in Blossom Wood." He smiled. Blossom Wood was the small stretch of woodland at the very edge of Blossomdown. It eventually became Galdur wood and was the only way to pass through the middle of the island if you wanted to avoid crossing Loch Du. It was also the site the Worlen had chosen for their settlement of log cabins and stone huts. It was both an ideal and picturesque location between the golden leafed Blossom trees and the water's edge of the Loch so they could wash and fish without straying too far from the protection of Blossomdown. I know Bettery had been taking home-cooked meals to the Worlen people. I had heard Merl complaining noisily one night that she was running herself ragged. She had told him off for being miserable, I had laughed because she was the only one that ever dared to. Balthus was supposedly helping with the building work but he sometimes came to visit Bettery and the children with gifts he'd made for them. I continued my questioning.
"And was Balthus awake when she left?"
"Yes, but then he got thirsty, and then sleepy." Crone said pointing at the black flask that lay at the side of the sofa. I picked it up brought it to my nose. I didn't need to inhale, it had the same strong smell of ale that lingered on Balthus's breath. How could he? I know he was having a tough time recently with the death of Queen Deltrina, Jestin going missing and Elba rejecting him but none of that was Crones fault. Bettery would be furious when she got home, she would never have left him in charge of a child if she knew he was going to drink himself into oblivion.
"Crone shall we give Balthus a shower?" I asked, trying to make it sound like we would be doing Balthus a kindness.
"Yes I think we should." He answered, as I was already on my way to Bettery's garden well to fetch a bucket of water. Five minutes later, I was back with a small wooden cup of water I'd taken from the bucket. I splashed the cool liquid into Balthus's wide-open mouth before jumping backward as Balthus thrashed around as if fighting some invisible foe before opening one red eye. Crone laughed at the guilty looking Balthus as he staggered unsteadily on his natural and magic forged leg.
"They need you at the settlement." I offered him a way out so that he did not have to explain himself in-front of the young Worlen whose admiration for the retired general was matched only by Balthus's new found admiration for ale. He gave a small nod, acknowledging my act of sympathy before staggering off.
I sat with Crone for about an hour longer. We happily made up our own fairy tales until Bettery returned. Just as I made my way out of the door, he caught my hand and slipped the small wooden figure of Jestin into my palm. Tears welled in my eyes but I fought them back replacing them with a grateful smile before Bettery bolted the door behind me.
As I lay in bed gazing at each tiny tree on the scribbled map, thinking of Jestin and waiting, it occurred to me that tonight Rosamaylind had been downstairs for much longer than she had been the past couple of nights. Maybe she wasn't coming upstairs tonight at all. In that case, I would have to risk going downstairs and pretend I was brushing up on my uses for Merrow bone.
Tick-tock-tick-tock I made the noises with my tongue and the roof of my mouth. I'd measured time with such conventional instruments like watches and clocks for so long in my old life but the noises seemed strange now. Funny, how silly little things like a ticking noise brought me crashing back to the reality of my new situation. The Pandora's box tucked away in the darkest corner of my mind threatened to unleash itself upon me with the powerful vehemence of my denied emotions. No, I could not allow myself to fall apart, not now. I steadied myself, keeping my emotions firmly in-check by gazing out of my tiny window onto the celestial moon. It was calming to me in the way that an ice pack could soothe a burn. Truly magnificent, it was a romantic orb in the sky. A majestic wife to the sun, a mother to the stars. I felt her pull, she beckoned me the same way the breeze in the moonlit field would beckon me in my forgotten dream. No, not the same, the moon was stronger she did not beckon, she commanded.
My unusual musing was broken suddenly by a shrill screech from the one of the rooms below. The unmistakable pain of a Banshee screech filled my ears and penetrated into the soft tissue of my brain. It felt like I had been woken from a trance by an arrow to the head.
I raced down the stairway, against my instincts and toward the sound, followed closely by Elba. She was much faster than I was usually but she had to travel down the narrow corridor that led from the observatory room. When I reached the downstairs sitting room, Merl stood at the door dressed in his tatty old nightgown. His old-fashioned pointed nightcap, at any other moment, might have been a great source of amusement. However, we did not laugh at Merl's ramshackle appearance, not when we noticed. Seated on the purple cushioned bench and illuminated by the soft glow of the candle-lit living room was the utterly distraught Rosamaylind.
Her intense lilac eyes watered with freely flowing tears although the rest of her face remained in the same horrified expression she must have assumed when she let out the terrifying noise that roused the household.
As Merl approached, she glanced upward to meet his eyes before looking away quickly. It was as if holding his gaze in this moment might allow him to truly witness the penetrating pain that was evident in every other aspect of the figure she cast.
"Rosamaylind?" Merl spoke her name softly.
"I did not see. I did not see. I did not see." Rosamaylind repeated this mantra rocking backward then forward, her arms wrapped tightly around herself like a frightened child. The torment in her voice permeated the atmosphere until it was impossible not to hurt for her, even though we had no idea what had happened to cause her such deep distress. "I did not see." She repeated again tormenting herself.
"You did not see what Rosamaylind?" Merl remained gentle in his coaxing although I could detect the slightest hint of worry in his tone.
"I did not see. Embraced may she be." Rosamaylind whispered the final sentence slowly, as if she did not want the words to leave her mouth. In some way, she was trying to escape the reality of what she had just said. Her hands reached toward the side of her head, sliding in-between the long strands of her hair and resting there as if she was trying to keep her mind from falling apart. Her ferocious weeping began to rock her body violently up and down, as her back arched with every deep intake of breath she took. Merl turned to m
e, his complexion much paler than usual.
"Violet, get your bow and go to Bettery's cottage. Tell her to come urgently. Tell her that Queen Evangelista is dead. Embraced may she be."
My body trembled with horror but I did not hesitate, not even bothering to disguise myself, as I flew through the front door, down the narrow winding paths of Blossomdown village and toward Bettery's floral cottage. I was faster than usual. Adrenaline pushed me forward, giving me the unnatural energy to reach my destination almost immediately. I frantically banged on the small wooden door and then waited for just a moment before I urgently banged again, louder and harder this time.
It wasn't long until a drowsy Bettery answered, clad in a small tartan nightdress. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes before she looked up at me inquisitively. Even at this unearthly hour of night, her radiant smile took form on her face; captured in the moonlight it was even more beautiful. I stood there dumbfounded for a few moments struggling with how I was supposed to explain. With both my silence and what I guess must have been a horrified look on my face, Bettery's usual warm expression soon turned to concern.
"What's wrong Violet deary?" She asked softly, her motherly instincts taking over immediately.
"She's dead." Was all I managed. Suddenly, the darkness that had long ago been lifted from Falinn Galdur had descended again. Becoming real to me in a way my na?ve teenage mind could not have comprehended before this moment.
After practically throwing herself through Merl's heavy front door - Fizzelsnap could obviously gage the mood and he desisted with his usual antics - Bettery had galvanised from sleepy Bobbin woman to the mother of all matriarchs to comfort the distraught Rosamaylind. Despite her small frame, she had somehow managed to support Rosamaylind up the staircase and to her contemplation room and lay her on the bed. She was still there when I left to make up a calming solution, simply sat at the side of the bed brushing Rosamaylind's long hair away from her tear-stained face.
I'd discovered over the long winter months in Blossomdown that, although I had a natural propensity for physical magic, I was practically useless at potions. I went to find Merl, who seemed almost relieved that he had something to keep his mind occupied. Bettery warned me as we sprinted back to Merl's home that, after losing most of his own family, he did not seem to cope well with grief of any kind. He went straight to the kitchen without one single word of complaint and begun the process of brewing some strange looking herbs in a pot with a blue slimy substance he took from the highest cupboard.
Completely giving up on sleep, I made my way to the living room and sat in the spot Rosamaylind had occupied earlier that evening. I put my head in my hands and tried to forget everything.
"We'll have to go to Thistlewick now, you know that don't you?" The voice came from the corner of the room, just under the spot on the roof that the absent Ambrose usually occupied.
"Elba!" I stated in surprise. "I didn't notice you in here."
"I'm sneaky like that." She said proudly.
"I've noticed." I almost unintentionally confessed. Her eyes narrowed in response before I deflected. "I've seen your dad tonight. He was at Bettery's earlier looking after Crone. He's gone back to Blossom Wood now to help with the settlement." An ironic chuckle escaped her lips at my words. How could she be laughing at a time like this, had she become that desensitised by her ordeal?
"Balthus is not my real dad and that old drunk should not be left in control of children." Her tone was harsh.
"Elba I know your mad, I understand how abandoned you must feel. I know you think that we just left you, left?" I couldn't bring myself to say his name. I looked down at the lines that ran across my fingers guiltily.
"Say it! Violet say his name." She spat. "Admit that you left me to rot, that you're leaving Jestin to rot. Admit the truth, you owe us that much." I shook my head. It wasn't true, Balthus and I had begged to go back and search for them but Merl had convinced us to listen to reason. "Fine, don't." She shrugged. "Jestin is better off lost now anyway."
"How can you say that?" I asked shocked and internally praying that she wasn't about to give up on her search for Jestin.
"The queen of the Banshees' is dead. The new queen, your dimwit friend, thinks you had something to do with her father's murder and that Jestin put you up to it. Even if Agrona doesn't get her hands on him, half of the Banshee army are still out there looking for him. That is unless you come out of hiding, go to Dahlia and convince her it wasn't you."
"I'm not in hiding." I thought of it more as temporary forced segregation and Elba was not to know the real reason I couldn't focus my efforts on looking for Jestin.
"Wake-up Violet, you ARE hiding whether you want to admit it or not." Elba emphasised the word are. "I'll take this back I think." She waved the map of Galdur Wood in my face before stalking out of the door.
I sat back down on the purple cushioned bench of course I would go to Dahlia. There wasn't a question in my mind that I was going back to Thistlewick Castle, come what may.