UnlikEly allies
the second book of the Battle of the Roses
Davina Jolley
Illustrations by Maria Priestley
Unlikely Allies
Published by The Conrad Press in the United Kingdom 2019
Tel: +44(0)1227 472 874 www.theconradpress.com [email protected]
ISBN 978-1-913227-48-7
Copyright © Davina Jolley, 2019
The moral right of Davina Jolley to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved.
Illustrations by Maria Priestley.
Typesetting by Charlotte Mouncey, www.bookstyle.co.uk
The Conrad Press logo was designed by Maria Priestley.
Other books in the Battle of the Roses series by Davina Jolley
Book One:
Primrose
For Janice Blake
14.07.60 – 29.12.18
Everyone needs at least one good friend,
Jan was mine.
Contents
1. A discovery
2. Owl’s last report
3. Inside the Ancient Tree
4. Primrose has a surprise or two
5. Victor examines the otters’ hole
6. Dilly has a problem
7. Jack receives a message
8. Elina and Violette
9. Elina comes to a decision
10. Violette’s behaviour causes concern
11. Dawn learns how to trust
12. Briony’s bracelet
13. Friend or foe
14. A message from Briony
15. The brown rat returns home
16. Mastering magic
17. The Summoner
18. Primrose tries something new
19. A strange meeting
20. A brush with the enemy
21. A home-coming
22. Elina meets her grandparents
23. Briony
24. The hidden danger explained
25. Primrose’s first lesson with an expert
Acknowledgements:
1. A discovery
On the Isle of Rosa, Primrose was making good on her escape by using one of the many rivers that wove their way through the Ancient Forest. She was hopelessly lost and realised that pinning all of her hopes on a legend she had heard the night before, from otters of all things, was more than a little bit absurd. She would have laughed at anyone else who thought such a thing could be true, but Primrose was desperate.
She still used the river to mask her trail, and it was not easy. She was having a lot of difficulty in keeping her balance and her temper, but she knew it was important to keep both, especially if she was ever to find the Ancient Tree that the otters had spoken of.
Primrose was relieved at how quiet the forest appeared as she made her way awkwardly upriver. Her eyes darted side-to-side as she tried hard not to be spotted, but there were so many hiding places within the rocks and the undergrowth that adorned the river bank. However, she refused to let her guard down or leave a trail for Victor, the tiresome hare, that had persistently followed her for the last two days. Seeing no animals in the forest was strange in itself, but she knew from experience that she could not take their absence for granted. Her newly gained freedom was far too important to her, just as much as her search for the Ancient Tree.
There were times when Primrose felt sorry for the damage she had left behind. She had not meant to hurt Briony, Elina or the wolf cubs, but each time her heavy, stone foot sunk into the soft mud or made her stumble painfully the guilt lessened. Being turned into a statue and left that way for years had definitely, in her opinion, been an awful over-reaction to her losing her temper thirteen years ago! Briony should not have done it! It was cruel and unfair. Primrose felt a tear begin to trace its way down her cheek, she rubbed at it angrily, smudging the filth that encrusted her face. She was annoyed with herself as she realised she had started to cry again.
If only Primrose had remained patient, then she would have had two perfectly formed feet, but no, Primrose had acted the way she always did; rashly and impulsively. She had not given Elina’s magic enough time to complete the transformation, from statue to human. Well, it was too late now, Primrose thought angrily. She just had to accept the fact she was lumbered with the stone foot for the rest of her life!
When Primrose had climbed into the hole next to the river, she hadn’t known it was also a temporary refuge for an otter family. Even she would have given that hole a wide berth. No one in their right mind would think sharing a hole with two adult otters rearing three young kits was a good idea. The hole, though, had proved to be a safe place for Primrose. The otters had not discovered her and Victor had not found her. Primrose had been very, very lucky.
Primrose hoped that Victor was now far away. She still couldn’t believe how quiet the forest was and prayed that her luck would not run out. She feared her clumsy progress would be spotted by some kind of animal and then reported back to Jack, Briony’s husband.
Primrose was very much aware that Jack would be searching for her soon, as well as all the other animals that she had upset in the past, and there were many of them! It was extremely important to her to keep her progress hidden.
Unknown to Primrose, the absence of the animals in the forest that day was because they had gathered for Briony’s funeral, which would later be followed by a meeting at the fallen oak tree. Primrose was not even aware of the full extent of the damage she had left behind. She believed Briony had fainted from the shock of seeing her alive again.
Now, she wondered if she would ever find a safe place to stay. There were so many tall trees that overhung the river and the steep banks that they continually blocked her view. She began to think she might have to scramble up the steep banks and leave the safety of the river, fearing she may have missed the Ancient Tree altogether.
The otters had said the Ancient Tree was huge and that it pierced the sky, she was beginning to think they had exaggerated. Primrose realised what was huge to an animal was not necessarily huge to a human and her hope for a safe place to stay began to fade. According to the otter’s legend, the Rose family had lived inside it once, but animals now feared it and considered it to be a place of Dark Magic. To Primrose it sounded like the perfect place to hide and figure out what to do with her life, but she couldn’t help think that perhaps the otters had lied about that too.
Rounding a bend in the river, Primrose stopped. In front of her stood the Ancient Tree. It was unmistakeable, colossal and magnificent. She stared at the legendary tree, amazed at the sheer size of it. The otters had not lied!
The tree towered majestically above her. Its branches were easily several times the size of a normal tree. They stretched up, dominating the skyline. The view from those lofty spires must be truly amazing. Even the immense trunk could have fitted at least six cars inside of it. It wasn’t hard to imagine that someone could have lived inside that enormous tree.
Awed by its magnificent size, Primrose quickly made her way across the river, heading towards the tangled root system. The mighty roots were just as huge as the branches and plunged solidly into the river bed and bank. As Primrose stepped through and into the cavernous root system, her breath was taken away at the immense space that surrounded her, even in the dim light; it was awe inspiring.
She believed that the maze of interlocking roots must have been created by the powerful wave the otters had spoken of as it had swept the riverbank away. The ancient roots circled her and ga
ve her a feeling of comfort and protection. To others it would have felt like a terrible prison, but Primrose felt no uneasiness or anything sinister. In fact, it felt as though she had come home.
On the river bed, Primrose noticed small footprints and guessed them to be those of Victor, who had pursued her so valiantly. Now, new prints were added, human footsteps and great square blobs made by her stone foot. She watched those deeper prints slowly fill with water. Primrose smirked and wondered what an explorer would make of those prints, a new species maybe - a rhinogirl or a girlaphant!
Once more, she looked around. There needed to be a way into the Ancient Tree, but where? Primrose was determined to find it.
By the time Primrose had searched every root below and above eye level, her footprints on the river bed would easily give her position away, especially to Victor. Once more Primrose admired the persistence of her worthy adversary, but covering her tracks was not a priority at the moment. Primrose needed to find the way in.
Finally, she hauled herself onto the land and searched every inch of the trunk, looking for tell-tale signs of any crack that resembled a doorway or an indentation that could give away a footfall or a step for an entry higher up, but she found nothing.
Just like Victor, she could find no signs of a way in. She was convinced that the entrance would be at ground level, so she returned to the river bank, sat down and studied the root system and water level marks intently, still nothing. Tired of the continual struggle Primrose rested her head against the solid trunk, closed her eyes and wondered why her life had to be so difficult.
However, Primrose was determined not to give up; she was no quitter! She was not going to cry. She would try again. With a deep sigh, she opened her eyes; it was time for one more attempt. She told herself to be systematic, patient and to take it slowly.
Primrose knew that the river level back in the days when The Ancient Tree was a home would have been different to that of todays. Even the flood would have washed away the soil from under the roots. So, she tried looking at the different soil colours in the banks, hoping to find a clue. I’m a proper scientist now she thought with a smile, but the smile faded as she realised only one person had ever cared if she’d been good at anything, and that person, Briony, would never forgive her now, not after what she had done to Elina. Primrose, disheartened, still found nothing.
Feeling her temper start to flare, Primrose wanted to kick something hard and scream. She wanted to break something, hurt something, but she managed to rein her feelings in and maintain control. She took a deep breath, counted to ten and felt her heart start to beat slower. Eventually, she calmed down. She absently scratched her stone foot; it seemed to tingle.
She looked up and saw four pieces of rope dangling loosely. Could something have been tied to them, she wondered. They seemed to be incorrectly placed for a ladder, but perhaps they were meant to be pulled. Primrose galvanised herself into action: she needed to find out if pulling on the ropes would gain her access to the tree.
Climbing the roots was out of the question; her stone foot slipped as the roots became steeper and gave her no grip. She needed a hook. Searching along the river bank, she found a few suitable sticks and branches and hobbled back to the tree.
After countless tries, Primrose at last managed to hook one of the sticks through a loop in one of the ropes and pulled. The loop gave way, rotten with age and she collapsed onto her backside painfully. Primrose stayed where she was, amidst pieces of broken branches and sticks; they were a taunting reminder of her numerous, failed attempts. She was tired, hungry, thirsty and almost ready to give up. Her spirits sank.
Soon she would have to return to the otters’ hole - it would be getting too dark to see anything clearly within an hour or two. She knew she had been lucky so far. Primrose became nervous, she still couldn’t understand why the forest had been so quiet and devoid of animals that day. She looked around warily. Taking a deep breath, Primrose made a wish, ‘If anyone ever loved me once, please show me a sign.’
Closing her eyes, she rested her head on her knees and tried to think what else she could possibly try? Surely she wasn’t meant to live the rest of her life in a hole!
Her ears heard it first; faint scratchings, something was moving above her head. Her eyes had no trouble spotting the small rodent. She shuddered as she saw the rat. It was not one of her favourite animals and it was looking directly at her, staring her out, whiskers twitching and sitting on its hind legs. Primrose looked at the rat intently. It seemed strange to her that the rat wasn’t the least bit scared of her. In fact, it seemed very curious and continued staring at her with its black, beady eyes. An inner voice seemed to urge her to throw something at it and scare it away.
It would have been so easy for Primrose to throw a stone or a branch at it and make it scuttle away, but she ignored the voice and sat watching it instead. She needed to make up her mind whether to leave, or make one final attempt to find an entry. Primrose absent-mindedly rubbed her stone foot again, it seemed to itch. She shrugged the feeling off and once more looked at the rat.
Finally, the brown rat seemed bored; it turned its black, beady eyes from her and scuttled away across the roots.
Two things happened; Primrose heard a creak and then saw a small crack appear on the spot where the rat had stood. She sprang up, climbed precariously to the spot and found a small twig, or was it? Balancing awkwardly, Primrose pushed it one way, then another, nothing.
She pulled it. The twig thing moved, it actually moved! Primrose felt a growing excitement, butterflies fluttered in her stomach! Then she heard a wonderful noise, something cracked above her head. She pulled the twig further, and with a loud, dry creaking noise, an opening appeared and a staircase was lowered.
It didn’t quite reach the river bed, but Primrose was able to reach it, just. She moved as quickly as possible, not wishing for the staircase to be retracted, and hauled herself onto the first tread. Steadying herself, she started to climb.
Just as she was about to put her stone foot inside the Ancient Tree, a sudden, frightening noise made her jump violently and she nearly lost her already precarious balance.
A whooshing noise sounded all around her, as powerful jets of water were released from each tree root and washed away every print, every stick and every branch. Primrose’s trail was completely obliterated. Primrose smiled with relief.
Nervously, she entered the Ancient Tree. The staircase closed behind her with a sudden, loud snap, making her jump again.
Plunged into sudden darkness, Primrose realised she was sealed inside and sunk to her knees. She could see nothing, hear nothing and feel nothing. She knew she was trapped again, but strangely she still didn’t feel frightened.
Resigned to her fate, she sat down and tried to look at things positively. She was out of the river, the place was warm and dry and although it was dark, she felt safe. She sat down, drew her knees up to her chest and waited for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light.
Primrose was becoming an expert at waiting. All she needed now was a little bit of patience.
2. Owl’s last report
With the tallest tree in the Ancient Forest within the owl’s sights, the bird tucked its wings back and glided smoothly towards it and then through its entrance hole. The owl landed perfectly on a silver perch without making a sound. It was the first time the owl had returned without a summons. The Summoner had told it previously to report back after the meeting at the fallen oak tree, and that’s precisely what it had done. The owl always followed instructions and had only recently started to question why.
The meeting that the owl had been told to observe had been called by Jack to discuss the list that Briony had made before her death. Three things remained. One was to give Primrose a specially made scarf, but no one knew for sure where she had gone. They knew Primrose was alive because her name had not erased itself from the list. The other items on
the list concerned Evelyn, Briony’s youngest sister. She needed to be found and given a scarf too. The trouble with this was that no one had heard of Evelyn since the night of a Great Flood twenty-four years ago. Evelyn was considered lost or dead, but as her name had not disappeared off the list, she too had to be alive.
As a result, after the meeting, the animals had separated into groups to begin a search of the Ancient Forest. Their intention was to listen to old stories and rumours, in the hope the list could be completed and Briony would then miraculously live again.
Now unhappily, the owl realised that the Summoner had not noticed its arrival and definitely wouldn’t appreciate being caught off guard. So, as quietly as possible, the bird slipped back out of the entrance hole, found an advantageous perch and tried to discover what was engrossing the Summoner so completely. Dipping its head from side to side it tried to peer in through the hole it had just exited and noticed two boxes. On one box a red light buzzed angrily. On the other box was a screen. The owl recognised a lot of writing but could not work out anything more. To the small bird it made no sense at all.
The Summoner, formless in the dark cloak it always wore, was totally preoccupied with some sort of light source. The light illuminated the Summoner’s gaunt face eerily. It had been many years since the owl had seen the Summoner clearly and a cold shiver ran up the bird’s back. It had never seen the Summoner so absorbed or animated for such a long time. It felt a bit jealous and unsure what to do next. Normally the owl had the Summoner’s complete attention. The bird did not want to think of the repercussions of being caught doing the wrong thing. It had taken the bird a long time to gather up the courage to come back and make the report.
The owl remembered a time, many years ago, when the light source had mysteriously turned darkly quiet. A foul mood had descended on the Summoner for months. The nervous owl hoped this would not happen again.
Unlikely Allies Page 1
