White Heart (Merrydian's Gate, #1)

  Chapter Four - Old Friends

  I FELT UNCOMFORTABLE in the silence after Jestin had made his vow to protect me. I dragged my bruised body from the floorboards and plonked myself, very ungracefully, in the cushioned seat again. After the blast of wind had stopped, Jestin quickly regained his former composure and Merl’s voice had returned to normal. Bettery crept back into the room. Looking my way sympathetically, her face was full of apology. She must have realised I would be terrified by what was about to happen. I guess she didn’t want to see anyone suffer. I didn’t want to know what had just happened, although I had a good idea. Merl had clearly just cast some kind of spell that meant Jestin would have to protect me from whatever was out there, or something bad would happen to him. I didn’t want that on my conscience. It made me feel worse.

  I made my excuses and left the room with my slice of honey bread. I retreated to my observatory room that was brimming with the sounds of late afternoon birdsongs and a rustle of the slight summer’s breeze gently creeping around the walls. The calm contrasted with the chaos I had just been privy to, turning my mood from fear and anxiety to clarity and contemplation. I sat in the box of the bay window thinking about my family and praying I hadn’t inadvertently put them in some kind of terrible danger. And what about Dahlia? What had happened to her when I had disappeared from the clearing? I was sick with worry again. Despite the soothing rustles of the leaves that were meandering their way up the walls, I just couldn’t connect with the calm of the moment I was in. My stomach ached with guilt that all these people were now in danger because I had managed to irritate that hideous creature that chased me through the woods and into the gate.

  I looked out into the clouds drifting slowly above my head, imagining the same clouds passing over my home just a few hours earlier. A home that would now be eerily empty as my parent boarded their plane to a temporary new life. Maybe the clouds were closer to my family now than I was. The perfect image of the cruising, whisp-like, clouds across the blue sky, only interrupted by a tiny black mark on the horizon. Instead of dissipating into the clouds as I had expected it to, the dot grew larger and larger until I could see a black figure in the distance. It was not just some small coastal bird as I had first thought. Now it was closer, I could tell the bird-like thing was far too large to be any ordinary bird. Travelling at great speed, it was clutching a large bundle of some sort. Whatever the bird had in its grasp was wriggling and tussling as if trying to break free.

  “That’s a human!” I whispered in surprise. My heart pounded in my chest I could feel the adrenaline race through my veins, a reaping bird! I had to do something it was heading for the small shrubbery in the garden behind Merl’s home, and it had human prey. Maybe it needed to stop off and subdue its prey before taking to the skies once again. I had to try to help. I raced down the wooden staircase and through the heavy front door at such an alarming rate that Merl, Jestin and Bettery came rushing out behind me. I cut through the bramble bushes that framed the house. They scratched and clawed at my skin but it didn’t matter, I had to reach the garden in time. If this was a reaping bird it wasn’t going to stay in the garden long, not when it realised I intended to take away its meal. I ran to the back of the house, my flesh burning with thousands of tiny scratches. There it was. The ominous black bird, which on closer inspection seemed more of an auburn-brown colour, its human prey lay on the grassy ground beneath it, knees clutched to chest in the foetal position. I sprinted the short distance across the garden and barged the bird with all the might I could muster. The adrenaline pulsing through my system made me stronger and the bird toppled off balance, landing in a mess of wings and high-pitched squeaks. I had to take my chance to rescue the poor person who was about to become bird feed. I swivelled around on my heels, the giant bird still disorientated, and stood stationary in utter shock. I stared down at the person in front of me for what seemed like an age. In reality, only seconds passed. I recognised the smooth ebony skin, the silky hair, and the long eyelashes. The person laying before me on the ground fast asleep and unharmed, Dahlia, must have been having a pleasant dream because she was smiling in her sleep.

  Dahlia! What was she doing here? I felt my lower lip hit the ground below as my eyebrows reached up toward my forehead in shock. Why had Ambrose brought Dahlia to Falinn Galdur? Was it because she had seen too much the night the Gnarl chased us both? What were they going to do with her? A hundred more questions raced through my mind as Dahlia lay sleeping peacefully at my feet.

  “Well then,” Merl broke the silence. “When you have quite finished attacking Ambrose, I think there may be some further lodging arrangements to be made.” There was a mixture of amusement and annoyance to his tone.

  I couldn’t move from my spot. The excitement of the day was becoming all too much for me. Jestin came over and gently brushed the side of my arm with his hand. Jolts of electricity shook through my body. I couldn’t tell if they were the result of the spell that had just bound us together or something else.

  “Don’t be too brave too soon Violet, you have no idea the kind of creatures that await you on this island.” He seemed amused.

  “I’m glad you think I’m entertaining.” My cheeks burned red with embarrassment and irritation.

  “I don’t find you risking your own and in addition my life all that hysterical, although I have to acknowledge your courage in doing so.” He turned to collect Dahlia. I also turned away, towards the victim of my rash actions.

  “Ambrose I’m so sorry. From the bedroom, you looked like a humongous eagle or something and my imagination got the better of me and...and I’m so sorry.” The blood, which seconds previously, had been pumping adrenaline around my body now settled in my cheeks to make my utter embarrassment obvious. Ambrose was gracious in the wake of my mistake and gave me a slight nudge on the hand to demonstrate that he wasn’t angry at my stupidity. This made me feel even worse. Jestin carried Dahlia back around the side of the house. She was still sleeping, blissfully unaware that I had just made a complete pillock of myself.

  “Come on deary, I think you’ll need a sit down after all that excitement.” Bettery led me through the door and sat me down on the cushioned bench. Jestin and Merl disappeared but I could hear footsteps on the floorboards above, so I assumed they had taken Dahlia to one of the many spare bedrooms. It occurred to me that she might not be staying long, Merl seemed reluctant for anyone other than me to lodge in his home. Bettery gave Ambrose a huge pile of berries, picked from the bushes I had just raced through in order to attack him. After he cleared the berries, Ambrose returned to his place on the sitting room ceiling and twisting once more into a lamp like shape.

  “Sorry,” I whispered again before he closed completely.

  “Don’t you think on it deary, he won’t,” Bettery gestured up at a now stationary Ambrose on the ceiling.

  “I’m going mad, I must be, I would never just go randomly attack some poor creature at home, I wouldn’t have just assumed.” Bettery stopped me with a gesture of her hand.

  “Now you listen to me, you are not at home in Falinn Galdur. I hope that you’ll be safe here. I hope we can make this your home at least for now deary but don’t go mistaking it for your home. There are things in other parts of this island that will hurt you as soon as look at you. I’ll wager you’ll have to come across them sooner or later. What I’m saying deary, is don’t just ignore that gut instinct of yours, it could be the difference between life and death.” Bettery’s face looked more solemn and concerned than usual.

  “The evils that will undoubtedly seek her out.” I breathed.

  “The evils that I will protect you from.” Jestin re-entered the room. “Perhaps if you could do me the courtesy of showing a little more faith in me and not look so terrified. Whatever creature may await you out in the forests or mountains of this land, I am more than capable of protecting you from.” Jestin tried to comfort me with a confident smile. I could feel the heat rising once again in my cheeks under his gaz
e. Embarrassed I turned to Bettery.

  “I shouldn’t have anything to fear should I? I mean Blossomdown is perfectly safe isn’t it?” I asked. “And Dahlia, she’ll be safe here too? You’re going to help her like you’ve helped me?” The uncertainty of my situation, a situation my best friend had now been dragged or more accurately dropped into, made me feel queasy. Bettery looked at me sympathetically, I knew I wasn’t going to like what she had to say next.

  “Well yes deary, Blossomdown is perfectly safe but you won’t be staying here much longer you won’t. It’s the girl upstairs you see, she needs to be returned to her home.”

  “But you’ve just taken her from her home, so you’re going to take her straight back now, whilst that Gnarl creatures still out there? That thing was about to blow her into pieces before I hit it with a piece of wall!” I stated in anger. My voice increasing a couple of octaves as my heightening sense of frustration got the better of me. Jestin gave a wry smile as I was becoming further exasperated and annoyed. How could they take her back and leave her so vulnerable when they were so keen on protecting me?

  “No deary you’ve got it all wrong you have. She belongs in Thistlewick Marshes she does, with her kind. Well she is only half I know, but when your mothers the queen and all. Well, they’re bound to accept her regardless.” Bettery finished her sentence talking under her breath. Thistlewick Marshes? I had heard of this place, I was sure. I cast my mind back to my earlier conversation with Bettery whilst we were strolling through the village. Thistlewick Marshes, what was significant about Thistlewick Marshes? The words echoed through my thoughts like an overplayed song ‘Saw their queen blow the head clean off a Gnarl just by screaming at him.’ I was shocked but somehow this made sense, the headaches when she sang, her devastating good looks, the fact that she never once spoke about her mother. She never spoke of her mother because she didn’t know, she had never known, how could she have ever known? Her mother was a Banshee, And not just any Banshee. Dahlia’s mother was their queen!

  “Does she know? I gasped in surprise, sounding like my mother. She had asked the same question in the same manner as she was flicking through a gossip magazine with her friends. They’d found some particularly sensational news about their latest crush just the day before I left. The pain of separation stabbed at me briefly but I pushed it aside, needing to focus on my current situation. “I mean, does Dahlia know who she is?” I asked Bettery, already knowing that the answer was no. Dahlia and I were so close and she told me everything. She certainly would have mentioned if she realised she was some kind of Banshee princess.

  “No deary she doesn’t,” Bettery shook her head.

  “Does anyone?” Jestin’s comment came out louder than he intended. I pressed Bettery further

  “What was a Banshee doing in our world?” I was assuming this was how Dahlia’s mother had met her father, confident that Mr. Dixon could not pass through the gate.

  “I think that you need to get some sleep deary, you look tired and this day has been eventful enough for you so far it has.” Bettery was right, I was dizzy with the shock of it all; I had to lie down, to try to figure everything out in the silence of my room. She took my hand and showed me into my observatory room. It was alive with the looks, sounds and sensations of a blissful twilight. The sun teetering on the very edge of the horizon signaled that night was drawing in.

  “It’s really beautiful in here Bettery, is this Merl’s room?” I asked already yawning on the large and comfortable bed.

  “No deary, Merl can’t even bring himself to come in this room anymore he can’t.”

  “Why is that?” I asked sleepily.

  “It was a nursery once.” Bettery stated in a very matter of fact manner and with that, she closed the door.

  I slept more soundly than usual once again that night, probably out of sheer exhaustion. When I awoke in the morning, I was surprised I had experienced a dreamless sleep. I pulled on my black bodice style corset dress, which was now beginning to feel more comfortable from wear, and left my sunlit room. As I approached the sitting room door, I could hear a chirpy and familiar voice from within,

  “I always thought there was something unique about my singing voice I mean I did smash a glass once like you see them opera singer women do on the television. My dad told me I had inherited my mother’s vocal chords and it was probably best if I didn’t sing anymore. Actually, it’s a good job I didn’t enter that national singing competition when they came to town, could you imagine? I would have blown everybody’s mind’s…. literally.” She giggled.

  I walked into the room to catch a glimpse of Merl’s rather disgruntled looking face, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. He was clearly not amused with Dahlia’s usual topic of conversation, herself. It made me smile slightly. I had to admire the way he treated every new visitor which the same tempestuous ill manner that, somehow, was a rather endearing characteristic of his. Dahlia had noticed it too.

  “Vi!!” she screeched as I came over the threshold. “I’m so glad you’re ok, you just disappeared into thin air. Then that ugly monster thing came for me but I screamed, I screamed so loud it covered it ears and shot off.”

  “Perhaps you should have sung to it.” Merl quipped stormily.

  “This wizard guy is a blast” Dahlia laughed, “Doesn’t half know how to make his guests feel welcome, ruddy be quiet this and my beard that.” Dahlia actually did a pretty good impression of Merl’s croaky, angry voice.

  “My beard! This one’s not staying here” Merl was now looking at Bettery, who seemed to find the whole conversation as amusing as I did.

  “Anyway, I fell over into some brambles and I must have banged my head on my way out of the clearing because when I came around, it was dusk the next day and I had flipping prickles sticking in my b..”

  “Too much information, thank you.” Interrupted Merl before Dahlia could finish the sentence.

  “So I went to your house to see if you had gone home but no one was there.” Dahlia continued. “I didn’t really know what to do then so I waited on that bench in your garden. You know the one we got nail polish all over last summer. I must have blacked out again because when I woke up I was being carried across the sea by some giant owl-thing. I swear Vi I thought I’d hit my head harder than I realised when I looked down and saw the ocean glistening hundreds of feet below. I started squirming I was trying to free myself, stupid really, because I might have ended up in the see if that owl didn’t have such a good grip. Anyway, I had yet another blackout and then I woke up here in this rickety old place. That grumpy old magician guy fixed my head.” Dahlia gestured her head towards an uninterested looking Merl.

  “It was amazing, like little fireworks coming from his hands.” She observed excitedly. I have always been in awe of the way Dahlia can take the strangest situations in her stride. It’s as if she excels whenever anything dramatic is occurring, and I’d say the situation we were currently in was about as dramatic as it got. She continued. “Anyway I’ve been awake for a few hours and Bettery’s been filling me in about this place, she told me you were here and that you were safe and Violet guess what?”

  “Erm, you’re a half-Banshee?” I asked as casually as I could make the words sound.

  Dahlia looked confused.

  “How did you? Oh well never-mind yeah, you and that handsome wolfy guy are taking me to meet my mum.” Dahlia expression changed from confusion to glee.

  “That’s great Dahlia but what about your dad? Surely he‘s going to notice that you’re not around?” I asked. Dahlia laughed off my question nonchalantly.

  “That’s the beauty of it Vi, he won’t realise I’m gone. The night we crashed The Beast, he was setting off to Jamaica for two weeks to visit granny Hatty. Don’t worry about The Beast either. I called my uncle Derrick while I was waiting in your garden. You know the one who owns the breakdown recovery business. He’s dropping The Beast off at my house and I’ll be home before my dad to sort it all out.” I c
losed my mouth as Dahlia had answered my next question before I could even ask it. Instead, I managed to form a smile at Dahlias obvious enthusiasm at the prospect of meeting her mother. I was genuinely happy that she had an easy time accepting all of this. Much easier than me, I guess many strange things did use to happen around her. Like the time when she entered the school talent competition and all the boys in the front row fainted simultaneously. Even though I was glad for my oldest friend, I couldn’t help feeling slightly annoyed that she’d described Jestin as handsome and then I was annoyed at myself for my petty jealousy. Dahlia was always so confident and beautiful it was hard to try to compete with someone like her.

  “You ok Vi?” Dahlia asked, suddenly concerned.

  “Yeah I’m fine, still adjusting to the whole situation I suppose.” I stated quietly, after all It wasn’t completely untrue.

  “Indeed well, there will be more adjusting that you will have to partake in before your journey to Thistlewick.” Merl was addressing me with a degree of seriousness now. Bettery gave Merl a disapproving frown. “What would you have me do Bettery? Would you have me send the girl on a perilous journey unarmed and unable to protect herself?” Merl asked defensively.

  “Of course I wouldn’t Merl and you know that. I just don’t know if she‘s ready for that kind of weapon yet I dont.” Bettery conceded, still concerned.

  “It is, in my opinion, quite the perfect weapon for Violet. It’s lightweight and precise and obviously I will teach her to use it with a good degree of skill.” Merl stated exasperatedly. Bettery opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again in defeat. “Well then that’s settled” Merl voice sounded triumphant. I got the impression that he was the victor of a debate on the subject that had begun much earlier in the day.

  He left the room for what seemed like a split second and then reappeared with a delicately engraved ivory long bow. The design was as intricate as the one of the dancing birds on the doorway to the sitting room. Instead of birds, it was butterflies intricately weaving in and around each other to make up the body of the weapon. At its crest, a nightingale sat as if ready to take flight.

  “That is awesome! Do I get one?” Dahlia was as mesmerised as I was by its magnificent design.

  “You my girl are possessed of the extraordinary powers to talk your enemies into submission.” Merl commented rather testily before Bettery interjected,

  “No Dahlia deary, I will be teaching you how to use your voice against your foe I will. I’ve spent a good long while around the Banshees a few hundred years ago and I’ll wager I’m the best teacher for your talents in Blossomdown. And besides deary, that weapons one of a kind, there’s no other like that one there isn’t.” Bettery explained to Dahlia in a more kindly tone. Merl began again,

  “Indeed there is not. This weapon was crafted in Thistlewick. It was carved from the bones of Merrows that were washed ashore after the battle of the waves. The string is made by the Worlen.”

  “And forged from the sinews of the rarest of reaping birds. The white-ghost reaping bird no-less.” Jestin commented. He entered the room with such silence that, until he spoke, no one realised he was there. Merl was the only inhabitant of the room not shocked by Jestins sudden appearance. “Only a Worlen Warrior could hunt and catch it.”

  “Ah yes Jestin and this particular bird, I believe was caught by none other than your uncle, General Balthus. The string woven by the skillful hands of your mother, Queen Deltrina.” Merl stated proudly.

  “Well it was commissioned for the daughter of the most powerful sorcerer in existence.” Jestin’s reply was courteous. I couldn’t help but feel that the conversation had become guarded, like there was a vital piece of information that was not for foreign ears. Bettery turned to Dahlia.

  “Come deary, looks about as good a time as any for us to go down to the edge of the forest and practice your wail and song.”

  “Wail and song, what do you mean wail AND song?” Dahlia overemphasised the and as if to stress her unhappiness at having to put in extra work.

  “Well deary, you’re a Banshee you are, your wail will harm, your song will heal. Come now we better be off.” Dahlia pulled on a purple cloak that Bettery made. It matched perfectly the deep purple corset dress, swiftly and skillfully stitched for her last night.

  “Yes and we must make haste to the garden for your target practice Violet. Otherwise you will be neither use nor ornament to anyone whilst navigating through the Thistle Forest.” Merl ordered.

  I followed Merl through the bramble bushes, the same ones that had clawed my arms to ribbons the day before. They were now miraculously parting to make a clear pathway. Merl looked back at my surprised face.

  “What did you expect silly girl? If you rush through a thorn bush you’re bound to get scratched.” When we reached the garden, Merl stroked at the ground in three places uttering curse words each time he had to kneel towards the earth. His rickety knees gave a loud crack with every bend. Huge plump pumpkins began to sprout from the ground where Merl situated himself at the bottom of the garden. When they had fully formed, Merl came back to my side.

  “Well then what are you waiting for? Position the bow at your cheek, take a deep breath into your stomach and pull back the string.” He demanded impatiently.

  “But, there are no arrows!” I realised that I must sound pretty stupid stating the obvious but I couldn’t see how a weapon, even one as impressive as the one I was holding, would be very deadly without being fully equipped.

  “Obviously,” Merl stated, his eyebrows rising irritably. “It is one of the weapons many benefits to its owner. It has been enchanted so that enemies are not aware you are armed until the second before death. Now, that’s enough delay let’s begin.”

  I lifted the incredibly lightweight bow. I could sense its unmistakable majesty as I separated my fingers into position at its mid-point. I assumed the nightingale’s uneven form would negatively affect the balance of the weapon but somehow it seemed to add to the overall balance. I pulled back the string until I could feel what I judged to be the right amount of tension. Suddenly a golden wisp of light appeared within the bow, it had a triangular tip and white feathers adorning the end. It was an arrow.

  “Wow that’s amazing!” I looked a Merl who seemed just as surprised as I did.

  “I had assumed that it would take much longer for the bow to accept you as its true owner but it seems as that is not the case. This is an exceptionally good sign and we are now able to spend the whole afternoon in practice, well done.” Merl was uncharacteristically proud. I was excited about my newfound skill and I loved the feel of the bow. I couldn’t explain why, but it seemed like the weapon had been made for me. Other than a few basic lessons in physical education at school, I had never really used a bow before. I was as surprised as Merl as I hit target after target and through the course of the afternoon, the targets gradually shrunk. I quickly progressed to an apple that Merl was manipulating through the air with his hands. It took me three tries and a large amount of concentration but I eventually got it.

  I remembered to navigate my way back through the thorn bushes more carefully on our return to the house. Bettery cooked a wonderful meal of roasted pheasant and wild mushrooms. She was slightly aided, but mostly hindered by Dahlia, who was trying with great earnest to fit in. Dahlia didn’t even eat meat but she was trying tenaciously to cook it, which resulted in her half cremating the first bird before Bettery took the reins. I wished I could be more like Dahlia; she had a natural ability to integrate into any kind of social situation. Her keenness to belong in Falinn Galdur juxtaposed with my quiet awkwardness, making me seem a little aloof at best and just plain ignorant at worst.

  After we had sufficiently filled our bellies, we all retired to our beds. As a group, we agreed that Dahlia would stay at Bettery’s home for the next couple of nights before we set out for Thistlewick. Jestin already had accommodation at the local inn, The Dragons Scales.

  The next morning I awoke
with a renewed sense of optimism. Since arriving on Falinn Galdur, I’d felt like an outsider, a broken piece of a puzzle that shouldn’t even be in the box. Starting from today, I would try a little harder to fit in. I pulled on my clothes and set out for Bettery’s tiny floral home with the intention of socialising better with the locals. Merl was fast asleep in his usual seat when I nipped in the living room to collect my leather sack. I crept quietly out of the front door; I was so covert in my exit that I didn’t even wake the sleeping Fizzlesnap.

  The streets seemed deserted as I wondered through the village of Blossomdown. There was no sweet smell of freshly baked honey bread from the village bakery traveling on the breeze. There was no linen stall manned by the black-haired linen lady, who modelled her garments with the help of her pretty toddler daughter. There were no farmers calling in loud voices to attract trade to their numerous stalls. There was no one out at all, so much for working on my social skills. As I continued on my short trek to Bettery’s home, I hoped I was going in the right direction, I checked the skies above for Reaping birds.

  Grateful I hadn’t been attacked and confused as to why there was no other living soul in sight, I knocked on Bettery’s petite wooden door. I waited for a couple of minutes before knocking again and then a couple minutes more. The next time I knocked, I did so with renewed vigour, there was no way they didn’t hear it that time. As I stood there, I was beginning to think of Fizzlesnap as useful. I was just about to turn around and head back toward Merl’s when the door creaked open. A tired looking Dahlia rubbed her eyes drowsily.

  “What are you doing here Violet?” It was more of a yawn than a fathomable statement.

  “I’m here to see you, obviously.” Was I missing something?

  “Vi, it’s really early in the morning.”

  “But its light out.”

  “Yes because it’s summer.” She stated, sounding annoyed. I couldn’t believe I was so out of sync with reality, well my usual reality anyway, that I’d wandered around Blossomdown in the middle of the night. Dahlia smiled at my gormless expression. “Come in Vi, We’ll have a sleepover like we used to.”

  I ducked through Bettery’s tiny doorway and into her petite yet cosy living room. Unlike Merl’s dark and foreboding home, Bettery’s house reminded me of a miniature country cottage with a big open fireplace and a small but comfortable cushioned settee. There were all kinds of haberdashery boxes piled in the corner of the room and a half-sewn patchwork quilt lay strewn across the back of the settee. There was only one small archway that, at a glimpse led to the kitchen. Bettery’s room must be somewhere beyond, hopefully I had not disturbed her. I sat next to Dahlia on the soft settee and we pulled over a fully finished quilt that had been thrown to the floor.

  “Are you nervous about finally meeting your mum?” I asked quietly.

  “A little.” She answered honestly. “I mean anyone would be nervous about meeting their mother for the first time, and that’s without the added complication of her being a Banshee and a queen.” I gave the back of Dahlia’s hand a reassuring stroke.

  “I know she’ll love you, everybody loves you.” I smiled.

  “That’s not true, I don’t think my dad even likes me.” Her eyes darted towards the floor uncomfortably.

  “Of course he likes you Dahlia, he worships the ground you walk on.” How could she not see that?

  “He spends every spare minute at work, he would rather be there than with me.” A small tear ran down her cheek. I wiped it away with the end of my sleeve. Dahlia hadn’t shared these recent worries with me before now. I guess I’d been so busy at work recently, I hadn’t been as receptive to her as I usually was.

  “I don’t know what the situation is with you and your dad but I am sure, without a shadow of doubt, that he loves you Dahlia. He does.” I reassured.

  “Enough about me.” Dahlia stated, deflecting the conversation away from the uncomfortable subject of her father. “How do you feel? I mean this is all pretty weird, don’t you miss home?”

  “Of course I do.” I said. “I miss everything about home. I’m trying not to think about it too much. Honestly, it hurts to know that I can’t go back, at least for a while anyway. I just wish I’d walked home that night. This might never have happened.”

  “No, it would still have happened, somehow.” Dahlia asserted. “Don’t ask me how I know, maybe it’s my Banshee blood but us being here, its fate Vi, it was meant to be.” I rested my head on Dahlia’s shoulder sleepily.

  “Life is never going to be the same. Ever.” I whispered before closing my eyes.

  The next couple of days past without much incident, lazily rolling into one another then way the summer days tend to. My plan to integrate better with the locals was not going so swimmingly, apparently Burzel was busy spreading the word that I was a troublemaker who didn’t like Bobbins. So instead of trying to make friends with people who had clearly made up their minds about me, I spent a lot of time practicing my archery. Despite my constant lookout, I did not see Jestin once. I became worried he might have decided against accompanying us to Thistlewick. That was until I overheard a conversation between Merl and Bettery, they were discussing how meticulously he was planning for the journey. He was bunkered down in his room at The Dragons Scales, not venturing out once. I guess organisation and planning all come as part of being an Army General. On the upper hand, I brushed up my archery skills so meticulously I could hit a revolving chestnut Merl magically manipulated through the air. Even the usually cantankerous Merl seemed impressed with my progress. On a couple of occasions, I was sure I had almost witnessed the beginnings of a smile but they faded quickly, replaced by his usual look of mild annoyance.

  Dahlia too was making headway with her practice of wailing and singing. She came to Merl’s home beaming on the first night because she had managed to screech a squirrel from a tree. She then used her song to heal a wounded badger, clawed in a fight.

  “Your mum will be so proud of you she will.” Bettery Praised.

  “I hope so.” Dahlia replied sheepishly. She spent the rest of that evening trying to extract as much information about her mysterious Banshee mother as she could from Bettery.

  Around a week after Dahlia and I arrived on the island, we were permitted to go into Blossomdown village, unaccompanied by either Bettery or Merl. Dahlia explained to me that her mother had met her father when she had been on a trip to the Giants Causeway in Ireland. Dahlia’s father had been visiting as a tourist and he slipped whilst walking on the rocks. Her mother saved his life with her song and one thing had led to another. When Dahlia was born her mother was so afraid that a young half-ling Banshee princess wouldn’t be safe in Falinn Galdur, so she made the heart-wrenching decision to find Dahlia’s father and wipe his memory of her. All Dahlia’s father could remember was that Dahlia was his own daughter, her mother was a transient singer and that she had been left by the side of his prized Dahlia plants one summer evening. By the time she finished retelling the story of her birth, I noticed that we had wondered up the alley that led to the Dragons Scales.

  I questioned if I subconsciously headed in the direction of Jestin because of the binding spell that Merl had placed upon us or if the stirring feelings I was experiencing towards him were of a less supernatural origin? The sparks of electricity had begun well before the binding spell was cast.

  “Hey isn’t this were the dishy wolfman’s staying?” I was used to Dahlia speaking this way. She was never shy or retiring when it came to the opposite sex. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little angry that she was referring to Jestin as the dishy wolfman.

  “I guess so, why don’t you go up to his room and throw yourself at his feet.” I replied a little testily. I didn’t mean to be so short with Dahlia, she had been my best friend for years. I could rely on her, I shouldn’t jeopardise our friendship because of a boy. Thankfully, Dahlia didn’t look offended.

  “Look Vi, let’s face it that boy is beautiful but even I would not go t
here after seeing the way he looks at you. I mean nobody wants to face that kind of humiliating rejection.” Dahlia’s words gave me butterflies in my stomach. I was turning into the typical cliché of a teenager with a crush.

  “Don’t look so pleased with yourself Vi, I’m being spurned here it’s a feeling I’m not used to.” Dahlia chuckled. “And besides I was talking to Bettery about what the wolf-men thought about outsider relationships, she pretty much told me to forget it. They’re not allowed to marry outside their race, something about it being too dangerous for another creature to carry a Worlen child. Women have died from it before. Therefore no dating or courtship of any kind for Mr dishy wolfman, unless it’s with a Mrs wolf lady.” My heart suddenly sank again. Dahlia gave me a sympathetic look. “Anyway I’m heading back to Bettery’s; she says I need to do one last practice before we set off tomorrow. Seriously Vi if any squirrel dares to mess with us, while we’re travelling to Thistlewick, it’s going to get a shock.”

  I waved her off on her way and headed back to Merl’s dejectedly.