Down amongst the busy streets the ambulance continued at a break-neck speed. It wove through the morning traffic; the roads clogged like the arteries of a person whose diet was unlikely to produce longevity. The angry and frustrated motorists cursed the recklessness of the driver as they swerved to avoid her bullish movements.
A rather infuriated taxi driver threateningly-shook his meaty fist at the vehicle. The angry man hurled several insults and gestured wildly. The unprintable-calumny revolved around the female driver and the hideousness of her hippie-wagon.
Luckily these comments went completely unnoticed by the red-haired woman behind the wheel. Her attention, which was clearly not being applied to her driving, was taken up entirely by several decibels of operatic music. The soul-churning arrangement erupted from the speakers as her list of driving offences mounted ever higher.
The young, female passenger gripped her seatbelt for security, her knuckles white, as they ventured into oncoming traffic. Mere inches from a collision the ambulance swerved back onto the correct side. Two seconds later the driver failed to halt for a red light and instead burst through the intersection. More tyres screeched as the ambulance momentarily mounted the busy pavement and then re-joined the road. The lumbering van splashed down into a massive puddle and caused an upsurge of water which showered the screaming pedestrians.
“MUM! Slow down!” Harmony yelled over the deafening composition.
“How many times must I tell you? Don’t call me by my slave name. I am Rose Ryder, a free woman!”
“Well, you won’t be free for long if you keep driving like this. The police will lock you up and with good reason too.”
“Relax, Harmony. I’m in complete control. Besides this is how one is supposed to drive an ambulance. I’ve seen it done hundreds of times,” Rose insisted.
Harmony leant forward and turned the dial on the stereo, lowering the volume to a more respectable level. “They’re allowed to drive like that because they’re ferrying injured people to a hospital. Whereas the way you drive will end up putting people there.”
Harmony looked over at her mother. Their relationship was a complex one. Harmony found Rose to be both loveable and incredibly irritating. This was a contradiction she blamed mostly on her teens. Or perhaps it was from being raised in the cramped, old ambulance with only her mother for company.
Rose turned her head and met Harmony's glare. She scrunched up her face in a mockingly-sad expression. In an instant Rose replaced the frown with her trademark, solar-powered smile. Harmony stared back, unmoved with her mother’s attempt at humour.
“Watch the road, Rose,” Harmony ordered irritably.
She knew it was pointless to try and curb her mother’s speeding. However, her own moral-compass insisted she at least try. In the past she had made innumerable attempts to curb Rose's erratic driving. Alas, time and time again her concerns were quashed with that winning smile. It didn’t help much either that Rose believed it was everyone else who drove badly.
Harmony had seen that smile utilised on countless targets. Their walk of life mattered little; none were spared the dazzling beam when she turned it toward them. Rose had smiled her way out of copious predicaments. These ranged from simple traffic violations to more serious governmental-mandates. Each had been easily overcome. Come to think of it Harmony had witnessed the smile employed on everyone who stood in her mother’s way. She wondered how many times she had fallen prey to it. The very thought that her mother would or could control her like that was decidedly unnerving.
It was due to that smile that she had never set foot in a traditional school. Instead her education was given within the confines of the ambulance. Harmony’s schooling consisted of endless rants regarding ‘the ways of the Universe’. Rose considered this the greatest lesson in life, certainly more so than how to measure a triangle. However, it seemed more like avoiding any form of parental responsibility from Harmony’s perspective.
She glanced over her shoulder at her home, school and playground; the tiny metal box that encompassed her entire world. The living area was adorned with bunk beds and folding tables. Space was of such high value that Harmony was only permitted a shoebox in which to keep her most treasured possessions. Hers was a life lived on the move. They never stayed in any place for more than a few weeks.
“You’re a bit grumpy today. Is anything the matter?” Rose questioned. She already knew the answer would be short and sulky but she asked it anyway.
“No. I’m fine,” Harmony snapped. She folded her arms and sighed deeply, her breath fogging the rain-streaked window.
“It's your birthday soon. Isn't that something to look forward to?”
“Humph.”
“Is there anything you’d like to do for it? You’re only fourteen once.”
“Oh Mummy, please can I invite my friends over for a slumber party? Ah! Wait, that's right. I don't have any friends,” Harmony retorted, brandishing her overt sarcasm as if it were a blade.
Rose thought it wise to leave her daughter alone. She seemed determined to wallow in her misery. Harmony would express herself soon enough. Speaking their minds was a talent shared by all the women of the Ryder family.
Harmony stared out of the window at the muted, grey-brown city. The buildings blurred along with the countless faces as they sped, like a rat in a maze, through the streets.
Amidst the gloop of gloomy thoughts Harmony came to a realisation. She wasn’t happy with her life. Sure it was fun most of the time. Rose had done her best by her and she appreciated all that she had. But the constant moving and never having time to connect with those around her culminated in Harmony feeling like an outsider. It was like she were an alien; a stranger that didn’t belong in the world beyond the ambulance.
This feeling was strongest when they did socialise with other people. On those rare occasions she felt unable to make friends with the children she met. She often struggled to follow their conversations. She was baffled by their fascination with celebrities, none of who she had heard of anyway. When it came to discussing films or television she was doubly flummoxed as she had never seen or watched either.
It was unsurprising then that instead of mingling Harmony opted to sit alone in the ambulance. She filled her time with reading books and making clothes on her foot-powered sewing machine.
Conversely Rose, who attracted people to her like bees to a flower, had no such social failings. She loved to have adult conversations (usually accompanied by several bottles of wine) that were unsuitable for children. It appeared to Harmony that Rose was totally and blissfully unaware of her daughter’s dejection.
An unstoppable-tear escaped from her eye and rolled down her cheek.
***
“Harmony! Harmony this is the street where Sherlock Homes lived. Yes. Look over there...Baker Street,” Rose squealed excitedly.
Harmony was only slightly aware that her mother was speaking. Her attention was taken up by a troupe of poncho-clad tourists. The group filed out from the Tube station and swarmed around a man. She glanced forward and caught sight of the traffic lights turning red.
“Stop!” Harmony screamed.
Rose slammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt. “Gosh. That was a close one.”
“Honestly. You’re unbelievable!” Harmony scolded as she wound down the window.
She turned to look out at the street and ignored Rose’s overwhelmingly-feeble excuses. Once again she caught sight of the man embroiled in the tourist’s huddle. He stumbled and fell, his descent lost in a sea of camera flashes.
As the man vanished both she and the sightseers focused on an oddity. A letter flew out of the fallen-man’s hand and sailed into the air. Harmony watched as the cluster of vacationers tried to catch the envelope. Teasingly it danced just above their fingertips. Then, as if by magic, the envelope drifted in through the open window of the ambulance. It landed with a heavy plop
on Harmony's lap.
The lights changed again and the ambulance lurched away. Harmony looked into the wing-mirror, instinctively searching for the man's eyes in the haze of yellow plastic. She found him looking somewhat bewildered. Their gaze met for a split second before the purple van rounded a corner.
Harmony looked across to her mother. She was just about to repeat the story when she glanced down and scanned the address. A jolt of shock, disbelief and excitement surged through her. The letter was addressed to her...
“A man dropped a letter. It came in through the window,” Harmony stuttered, flabbergasted by what she was seeing. Her mind reeled. This was the first letter she had ever received.
“Well. We should post it for him. These things always happen for a reason my love,” Rose responded with a knowledgeable tone. “The Universe has a plan and we are just its willing pawns.”
“Yes Mum, I know. Actually, for once, I agree... I think this may have been fate,” Harmony acknowledged. She gently traced the purple writing with her fingertip.
“Wonderful! At last you’re starting to see the bigger picture,” Rose announced proudly.
Harmony wasn't listening anymore. Instead she was staring at the envelope. It seemed to be a bit...odd. The strangeness was brought about by more than the bizarrely-accurate address. The old, yellow paper appeared to squirm under her fingers, almost as if it were trying to open.
She turned it over and stared at the writing. The purple ink shone. Harmony assumed, with good reason, that the glow was merely a trick of the light. Nevertheless the violet-tinted hue was mesmerising, enticing even. She re-read the address just to make sure that it definitely was for her.
Her mind buzzed with questions: Who was the man? Was he the sender? If not then who was? How did he or they know she would be at those lights at that exact moment? Why would anyone send her a letter in the first place?
Harmony resisted the temptation to sunder the envelope. In all honesty she was quite perturbed with the situation. As such she held fast to the paper rectangle whilst she struggled to make sense of it all. She wasn’t ready to open it yet. The feeling that something would change if she did was a heady concoction of excitement and terror.
Not one to rush head first into a situation Harmony mulled over her thoughts; brooding over the letter’s meaning.
***
Several hours later the purple ambulance was well beyond the sprawl of London. Rose sped down a country lane, traversing the tight corners without slowing down as they headed along the Cornish coast. Harmony still held the unopened letter in a tight grip.
“Can we stop please?” Harmony asked. Her voice was quiet and thoughtful.
Rose looked across at her daughter and, sensing a womanly chat in the offing, she pulled over. The key turned and the grumbling, grinding engine coughed into silence at the entrance of a dirt road.
“This is a beautiful place to have a break, love. Well spotted,” Rose said, turning to look at her daughter. “Is everything ok?”
Harmony remained silent as she handed the unopened letter to Rose. She watched as her mother’s expression changed from calm and centred to one of wide-eyed astonishment. Rose's mouth opened and closed, resembling a startled fish, as she read the address. She looked to Harmony with a modicum of a frown on her brow. With just a hint of reluctance Rose handed the letter back.
“Where did it come from?” she questioned.
“The man who fell dropped it. It can’t actually be for me though...can it?”
“It’s your name of the front,” Rose shrugged.
“But, besides you I don’t know anybody,” Harmony reasoned. “And how did they know we’d be there? It doesn’t make sense.”
Rose smiled and the cabin was filled with her enviable-warmth. “Things rarely make sense from the outset. There is only one way to find out who sent it to you. You’ll just have to open it and see.”
Harmony turned the envelope over and slid her finger along the v-shaped lip. It tickled the tip as if begging to be opened.
“Ok, here goes,” she conceded. She took one final moment to smile at Rose before breaking the seal.
Harmony tore into the envelope and removed the letter from within. As she unfolded the aged paper a small iron key dropped onto her lap. She ignored it for the moment and instead read aloud.
My dearest Harmony,
I hope that this letter finds you happy, safe and in the protective care of your mother. I understand this must be strange for you. I will do my best to explain what I can. You don’t know me and sadly we are never likely to meet. This letter will only come into your possession if I have failed in my quest. If you are reading this then death found me before I found solace.
My name is Nova Ryder and I am your Great Aunt. All that was mine I give to you. Upon my death the possession of my home - Darkfern Cottage - and all contents therein passed to you. Love my home and treat it well. Do this and I promise you will be protected from the dangers ahead. There is a storm coming...
You may wonder why I chose you. I cannot say here, this letter is not a safe place for such secrets. I simply ask that you trust me. Ask the loyalist amongst them to tell my truth.
Forgive my ramblings, child. You may not know me but I know you. I have watched you from afar. I have seen you grow from a helpless babe into a young woman - one who reminds me so much of myself. I’m confident that you’re ready for the burden adventure I bring you.
I am sorry that we never met in person...but it was not meant to be. Nor would it have been safe. I wish you could have been older before I passed this unto you; you are the warden of my regrets. I ask for your forgiveness, child. My mistakes were made so long ago, and now I look to you to put them right.
Be safe. The wolves are ever near....
Yours in spirit,
Nova Ryder
P.S. Rose will remember the way. Just remind her of ‘Meme the Oak’.
Harmony finished reading the letter and looked up at Rose. Her head was utterly jam-packed with questions and confusion. Despite her bafflement she managed to utter one question. “Who is Meme the Oak?”
Her eyebrows were arched in a 'this can't be serious' manner and she really didn't expect an answer. Nonetheless, and much to her amazement, Rose nodded and started the engine up. Without responding to Harmony's continued questions, she pulled out into the road. Not a word was voiced by Rose as she turned the ambulance and started to drive up the dirt track.
“Where are we going? Mum? Hey, I’m talking to you.”
Harmony felt like she was in a dream; albeit a very lucid and entirely surreal dream. Her mother was definitely in a trance of some description. She wasn't answering any of her questions. Instead she slowly trundled along the dirt road; this was the slowest Harmony had ever seen her drive.
The sky outside, which only a moment earlier was blue and sunny, abruptly darkened. A thick fog rolled in from an unseen source to swarm around the ambulance. Harmony stared out of the window desperately trying to see anything beyond the grey miasma.
She reached across and flicked on the head lamps; a vain attempt to shed some light on the road. The beams hit the wall of fog and succumbed to its density without much of a fight. Each failed to penetrate more than a few feet.
Starting to panic at the silence around her, not to mention the disturbingly glazed expression in her mother’s eyes, she tried to open the door. The van was moving slowly enough that she could safely exit. The latch clicked open but the door refused to move. Though she discounted the notion as being silly, she got the impression that the fog was pushing against the door.
A sickening fear was growing in her belly and she felt a scream starting to force its way up from her chest. She tightened her throat and halted the fearful cry. Seeing no other option Harmony unclipped her seatbelt and turned to face Rose.
“Mum! Please say something! Say anything!” Harmo
ny shouted. In an attempt to waken Rose she vigorously shook her shoulders. “Please, snap out of it!”
Rose slammed down hard on the brakes. The ambulance stopped immediately. Unprepared for the abrupt halt Harmony was thrown forward. Her head thumped hard against the windscreen. A white, hot flash of pain burned across her skull. Her vision faded, eclipsed by bright light and a high-pitched tone.
CHAPTER 3
The dreamer’s key
Harmony opened her eyes as the light and noise from the bump subsided. The ambulance, her entranced-mother, the fog and even the pain in her head were all gone. She frowned as she took in her new surroundings.
Alone and puzzled she found herself submerged, up to her neck, in a pool of warm liquid. The secretion was silver in colour and it possessed a consistency similar to treacle. A sweet-scented perfume wafted up to greet her. Like steam rising from a hot bath the aroma formed visible wisps that swirled around her.
Her attention moved beyond the pool and focused on the encompassing forest. The trees were dense, tall and wrapped in golden bark. The metallic-skin glistened and reflected the few adventurous rays of sunlight that speared through the canopy.
As each beam collided with a tree’s trunk it fractured into several shafts. Each fractal transformed into a patch of rainbow. The prismatic-lights rippled across the twig-strewn floor in a kaleidoscopic dance.
Between the golden trees the forest air was thick and pungent. The mulched-swelter, a humid blend of damp earth and decayed flora, was punctuated with strange streaks of iridescence. The smears of tangible light disintegrated after a few moments; becoming a glittering powder that vanished on the lethargic breeze.
Harmony narrowed her eyes and located the source of the trails; a tiny, glowing creature zooming around in erratic movements. It was at this point Harmony realised she was dreaming. Nothing this beautiful could possibly exist...