Chapter 31
I peer out the barred window in my room. The bubbly texture of the icy blue glass blurs the outside slightly, but not so much that I can’t make out the landscape. It looks like there’s a green field and a few rolling hills in the distance, and beyond that, a forest and a mountain. A horse trots into the courtyard and a woman jumps off. She leads the horse into what looks to be a stable and then enters the house, banging the door shut behind her. Voices resonate through the castle, but I can’t understand what’s being said—the voices are too muted.
Layla brings in a silver tray filled with pancakes, fruits, English muffins, orange juice, milk, tea and four different types of cheese. She has changed from her camouflage work clothes to navy blue leggings and a long silver sequin t-shirt, which falls off her shoulder. “Eat—you’ll need your strength when we start training you. I’m so glad you decided to let us educate you.”
I throw an unfriendly look in her direction. “I decided? My only other choice was death. Of course, anyone in her right mind would have chosen to live.” I sit down at the desk where Layla placed the tray of food.
“Maureen wants to put you through the full Huldra training course in a mere ten days. Once we’re done with you, you’ll know everything.” She pours me a cup of hot water from the silver teapot. “Black tea?”
“Do you have herbal tea?” Black tea is too bitter and doesn’t sit well in my stomach.
“Raspberry lemon zinger?”
“Sure,” I say.
Layla leans her hip on the side of the desk. “You need to forget Anthony because he won’t come for you—trust me, I know. He’s probably already onto the next unsuspecting Huldra, telling her how special she is and how lovely her human aura is. Let’s just focus on getting your mom back, on educating you, and on receiving your fifth Huldra gift, shall we?”
“So, Maureen’s not after my—gift?” I ask, still not believing a single word that comes out of Layla’s mouth.
“Of course not, why on earth would she want your gift? Stealing someone’s gift is considered an unforgivable offense in the Huldra code. Your fifth Huldra gift is more precious than anything else and you should never give it away.” Layla seems surprisingly genuine.
Another lie, I think to myself.
“You know,” Layla says, crossing her long, lean legs at the ankles, “the best thing you can do is to try and learn as much as possible in the next ten days. If you’re still not happy after we’ve finished teaching you, then you can make your own decisions and Maureen might even let you leave if you want. But don’t be too quick to judge. If you do, you’ll miss out on the opportunity to know for yourself.”
I don’t have an intelligent reply. “All I want is to find my mom.” And Anthony, I think, keeping the last part to myself, knowing that Layla would only try to turn me further against him.
“We don’t have her here, Sonia. However, the smartest thing you can do is to learn everything you can about the truth and receive your fifth Huldra gift and use that and what we have taught you to get her back.” Layla walks toward the door. “I’m not locking it, so you’re free to move around the castle as much as you like. Just remember, if you leave Wraithsong Island, we will find you, and you would have wasted more time in finding out the truth of what has transpired here. Oh, and there are clothes for you in there.” She points to a closet that’s made up of nothing but mirrors. “I can imagine you don’t want to spend your entire stay here in your pajamas.” Layla exits the creaky door and closes it behind her.
I devour an English muffin with cream cheese, the mixed melon bowl and drink my tea. After that, I find a pair of dark jeans and a thin charcoal stretchy pullover and put them on. The only shoes that fit are a pair of black ballet flats with clear rhinestones on the top. I think about what Layla said and realize that I never actually heard Maureen say she wanted to appropriate my gift. It had only ever been Anthony, and during that one phone call that Layla claimed was an illusion, or whatever she called it. Maureen has never acted mean to me or given me any reason to think she’s after my gift. Wait, what am I thinking? I shouldn’t be considering what Layla said, for only a moment ago she was trying to trick me into thinking she was my mother. She’s clearly deceitful.
I open the heavy copper door, look in both directions and then proceed into the hallway. I turn left—the opposite direction from where I came. If I only had my cell phone, I could call Anthony. He must be worried sick about me. Sneaking down the hallway, I pass several copper gargoyle doors. I wonder what’s behind them and I try to open one. Locked. I try another with the same result, and it seems they’re all locked down this hallway. I almost don’t open the last door, but try it anyway, and to my surprise the door opens. The room is decorated exactly the way my room is. Inside, a man is sitting at his desk, eating breakfast.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I—” The man turns around and I recognize him immediately from my dream. Olaf. A wave of fear pushes through my body, and adrenaline starts speeding through my veins. He’s wearing the exact same type of suit he did in my dream, except for now, everything from his suit to his tie is blue, not green.
“Sonia, please come it!” He smiles. “I apologize for intruding on your dream a while back. Have a seat.” He stands, pulls up a wooden chair and gestures for me to sit.
I hesitate. Run! Run! Run! I think, taking a step backward.
“Do not be afraid; I will not harm you, and please do not attempt to run since there is no place to run to.” He clasps his hands behind his back.
Now I remember how he’s able to read my mind. Shoot! I enter the room and sit down on a chair.
“I see Anthony has instilled fear into your mind and told you that we have malevolent intentions. Have we given you any reason to fear us?” Olaf says in his Scandinavian accent.
“No,” I say, but thinking yes.
“I am also not a Darkálfar like Anthony claimed. I am a Huldu.” Olaf takes a sip of his coffee. “Poor Maureen has had to deal with Anthony all these years. Do you know the real story?”
I shake my head, thinking this should be yet another interesting fabricated story.
Having read my thoughts, Olaf chuckles. “Maureen fell in love with a Darkálfar just as you have.”
I press my lips together. I still don’t think Anthony’s a Darkálfar, but I wonder how he knows about Anthony and me. Layla must have said something to him. No, of course, he must have read my mind.
“Maureen admits that it was wrong, knowing she should never have fallen in love with such a one, being the nasty creatures they are. Anthony’s father left Maureen shortly before she discovered she was pregnant with Anthony. Of course Maureen begged him to come back to her, for the sake of the unborn child, but the Darkálfar left anyway.”
“That’s not what Anthony told me.” When we initially met, I remember Anthony briefly mentioning his father leaving, and how he seemed so saddened about his father leaving. Then another thought occurs to me. Why wouldn’t Anthony have darker skin then, since Darkálfars are, well—dark-skinned?
Olaf chuckles. “Great questions, Sonia, I must say. You have such a fabulous young mind. Anthony inherited all of his mother’s physique, but unfortunately, his father’s character.” He chuckles again at length and I wonder what’s so funny.
“What?”
“It is quite amusing to see how you are still reasoning with your lesser human brain. You will learn about the ways of the pure Huldra soon enough, and then you will have no need for such explanations.”
Obviously, he thinks he’s so much better than me. I curse at myself for thinking that, knowing Olaf must have read my mind, but he continues speaking as if he didn’t notice.
“When Maureen had Anthony, she hoped he would inherit her character traits, but sadly, he became more and more like his father every day.” Olaf shakes his head, looking despondent. “Finally, and just recently, when Maureen saw there was no hope for the boy, and when he refused to take his
Huldu vows, she knew she had to escape him. Angry that she deserted him, Anthony threatened to get even with her by appropriating your fifth Huldra gift. So here we are.” Olaf crosses his legs and rests his hands in his lap.
“What’s your involvement in this?” I ask.
Olaf smiles. “I live to serve the Almighty Huldra and the Almighty Huldra, or Maureen as you know her, has given me extra powers. If you allow her, Sonia, she can help you develop your powers, too.”
Even though I don’t want to, I delight in the thought of having more power, but there’s just something about Maureen and Olaf I don’t quite trust. Is it because Anthony has been telling me all along that they are after me and after complete power? “Anthony says Maureen is after my fifth Huldra gift,” I say, seeing if his story will line up with Layla’s.
He shakes his head and wags his finger, as if to make a point. “Maureen has all the gifts she needs, and if she should need any more, she only has to appropriate some new gifts from humans. She would never dream of stealing your gift; she wants you to become strong.”
“Anthony told me that Huldra gifts are even more precious than life itself, is that true?” I say.
“They are, but beware, for Anthony mixes truth with lies. I do not know how much of what he has told you is true and how much is a lie. If I were you, I would regard all the information he has given you as falsehoods. He is the smoothest of all criminals, Sonia, and not even his saintly mother could stand to be around him anymore. She had to run away to this invisible island to get away from him, and even here, poor Maureen cannot find peace.”
“Well why is Maureen keeping me here then?”
“I suppose she is upset that her son managed to manipulate you as well, and she wants to help you get your mother back. As you will see, righteous people always do the right thing.” He drinks some more coffee. “You would be a fool not to accept her generous offer.”
My gut tells me something is wrong, and for once, I try not to think about my situation, but rather feel the situation out. My body feels unbalanced, as if something isn’t quite right. Then a thought springs into my mind: Can Olaf read my feelings?
“No, I only read thoughts,” he says. “But the two are very closely connected, so if you think of something, I can probably guess how you are feeling based on your thoughts.” He smiles.
I smile back and try to empty my brain from all my thoughts. It’s like trying to pick up a million feathers that have been scattered in a tornado.
“Ah, you are getting better. It is hard, is it not? To control one’s thoughts?” He takes a bite of his bagel and washes it down with some more coffee.
“Well, I wanted to see the rest of the castle, if you don’t mind,” I say, eager to get away.
“Absolutely. Maureen lives on the third and top floor, so please respect her privacy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, standing up. “Olaf, good to see you again.”
Olaf stands up and takes my hand, and then kisses it lightly. “I will be seeing you soon, Sonia.”
I pull my hand back and leave the room, wondering on my way out the door how far away I have to be before Olaf can’t read my thoughts any more.
Out in the hallway I continue into the grand foyer. A red oriental rug rests on top of the stone floor and a chandelier of titanic proportions hangs high above. The double door exit is to the left, and a wooden stairwell to the right. The stairwell splits into two directions that lead to each side of the house. In the foyer there are two stained-glass doors, one on either side.
One of the rooms is a library with a black baby grand piano and the other an office decorated with Egyptian art. I close the door to the office quietly and head into the other hallway. Dozens of pictures, all in frames of different colors and sizes, plaster the walls on either side. I don’t see Maureen’s or Anthony’s pictures anywhere, but then again, this isn’t really Maureen’s place, so of course, their pictures wouldn’t be here. If Maureen were smart, she would have known I would notice that. I don’t recognize any of the other people in the pictures either, though, wait, is that Gandhi? There is also a picture of a woman with someone who looks like President Clinton and wait, Abraham Lincoln and my mom?
“We’ll be starting in ten minutes. Let me show you where we’ll be training you.” Layla zooms past me and takes a left at the end of the hallway.
I follow her into a room that’s set up just like a classroom. A chalkboard hangs to the right, six desks stand in the center of the room, and maps, number charts, drawing boards, and graphs hang on the walls. White wooden blinds cover the windows, and the walls are a sterile white.
“Do you need anything before we start?” Layla sets a hefty stack of books down onto the desk at the front of the room.
“The ladies room?” I say.
“Down the hall, first door to your left.” I leave and come back at exactly one minute to ten.
“We’ll be starting at nine a.m. every morning.” Layla points at the clock. It ticks so loudly that I wonder if I’ll be able to focus at all during our lessons. “You’ll have a thirty minute lunch at noon and then we’ll continue on until five p.m. After that, you’ll eat dinner, and then we’ll resume our studies in the library until ten p.m.”
I sit down at the desk front and center, dreading such a long day.
“I’ll be your history teacher, Maureen will be your flair technique teacher, and Olaf, your combat and artillery instructor,” Layla says.
I nod. I just hope they’ll teach me at least something that lines up with what the good Huldras do.