by Flavia Bujor
Now that they were on their way to Nathyrnn, Amber studied Opal. She was certain the girl was not as heartless as she seemed. The night before, Opal had been awakened by a nightmare, and Amber had seen terror in her eyes, as if she were hoping to be rescued. Opal had murmured feverishly about dark, threatening faces and a danger that was very near.
“They’re out there, quite close to us! I’m the one they know about — I should never have gone into the room. And now it’s too late.”
Amber had soothed her in a soft voice, and the two girls had quickly fallen asleep again.
Now Amber turned wearily to Jade.
“Have we still got far to go?” she moaned.
“Yes,” came the curt reply. “I’ve already explained three times that we have to go to Nathyrnn to find this Jean Losserand, to talk to him about the symbol and make him tell us about his journey to Fairytale.”
“I don’t believe in tales and in that magic land,” said Opal bluntly. “The Council of Twelve has outlawed fairy tales. I’ve never read any and I’ve done just fine without them.”
“Well, I believe in that place,” declared Amber. “I’ve always made up stories like that, and I love to tell them. I’d really like to go there — to Fairytale! Jade, what about you?”
“Of course I’ve read fairy tales! In my palace, there was an old philosopher named Théodon. He obeyed the Council of Twelve — in his own way — and I don’t think he was afraid of them. He’s the one who gave me tales to read and taught me lots of things.”
“Lots of things?” jeered Opal. “You’d never know it!”
Jade was about to reply when Amber intervened.
“Calm down! We can’t start squabbling like children every time we talk. Jade, you hadn’t finished. You believe in this country, in magic, in the unreal?”
“I’d like to believe,” answered Jade, after a moment’s thought. “This land does exist, I’m certain of that. But who lives there? Is Fairytale a magic place or simply a legend? I need to hear about Jean Losserand’s experiences, and then perhaps I’ll be truly convinced.”
Since no one could think of anything to add, the conversation was over. Once again a stubborn silence reigned.
Jade tried to think about what Nathyrnn and Jean Losserand were like, but she couldn’t imagine the stories he would tell them, so she began considering instead the questions she would ask the former traveller. She was consumed with impatience and exasperated at having to walk so far — too far, in her opinion.
Amber was thinking back to that morning, when she’d been so worried about Jade; only to see her turn up with a basket laden with food and announce, with a disconcerting smile, “We’re leaving for Nathyrnn.”
Questioned eagerly by Amber, Jade had told them everything. Opal had listened quietly, but Amber had caught her breath in surprise: the old woman at the farmhouse had behaved so cordially — that didn’t sound like her at all!
Jade had spoken at length about Fairytale. During that part of her report, Amber had drifted into a daydream. She saw herself crossing the magnetic field of that wondrous land, in a truly magical setting, and she began to invent detailed adventures that drew her into this enchanted world.
“Amber!”
Startled from her reverie, Amber gave Jade a puzzled look.
“Amber, can’t you see that something’s wrong with Opal?”
Turning towards Opal, Amber saw that she had stopped a little way behind them: her face was frozen in fright, her eyes fixed and vacant.
“I tried to shake her — she didn’t move,” continued Jade. “And you just kept on walking!”
“My mind was somewhere else,” protested Amber.
“Opal seems to be somewhere else as well. Personally, I couldn’t care less, but I suppose it might be serious.”
The two girls spoke to Opal and tried to rouse her from her trance. In her distress, Amber felt overwhelmed with remorse, even though Opal’s plight was hardly her fault. Then all of a sudden, Opal seemed to return to reality. The mask of terror vanished, but when she tried to say something, she abruptly fainted. With a cry, Amber fell to her knees beside her. Jade merely stood there watching, but her eyes betrayed a concern she would rather not have felt. Luckily, Opal regained consciousness in a few minutes.
“What happened to you?”
Opal hesitated, trying to find exactly the right words to describe everything she had experienced.
“Someone sent me a message, but he did not reveal his identity. First, a dreadful pain flooded through me, and I felt helpless as my body grew rigid. I was numb with suffering. Then a man’s voice spoke to me: it was harsh, and echoed inside my head, saying that I would be the first to die. Each word hurt me. Then the voice said that I was under its control and that there was nothing I could do to change things.”
“One of our enemies who hadn’t anything better to do than torment a poor girl,” interrupted Jade. “That’s pitiful!”
“No,” disagreed Amber. “This does look serious: someone has contacted Opal using telepathy.”
“The voice also sent me some images,” continued Opal. “First, a vision of a city. I’m certain it was Nathyrnn. And then, on top of all that incredible pain, I started to feel unbelievably sick. Then the voice said, ‘We will meet in this city.’ Next I saw an enormous book with gold letters stamped on it: it was called The Prophecy. It was covered in blood. The voice invaded my mind and said: ‘The Prophecy will not come to pass the way others would have wished, but on one point, it tells the truth: you will die! As for the Chosen One, he will fall as well. But you will be the first to succumb, and it will be you who betrays them all. You are in my power and you will obey me automatically.’”
“It has to be a lie!” cried Amber.
Suddenly Jade felt she couldn’t hate Opal any more, and she didn’t want to humiliate her with a cutting remark. Perhaps Opal was not as unfeeling as she tried to appear; in fact, at that moment, Jade found her almost touching, for Opal was quietly crying.
“I know that every word is true,” she said in a muffled voice. “I’m convinced of it.”
“Not at all,” replied Amber reassuringly. “Opal, you know perfectly well that voice wanted to hurt you and was certainly lying to you.”
“No. I’d like to believe that, but I know it was all true. The voice told me even more things.”
Opal’s tears were flowing faster now. She had managed to calm down a little, but she was too terrified by the message to be completely in control of herself.
“The rest of it!” demanded Jade brusquely. “Tell us what else the voice said.”
“If it doesn’t upset you too much,” added Amber quickly.
“The rest of the message was absolutely true. The voice tried to use a softer tone, but it was hoarse and rough. It told me that it knew me better than I knew myself and that I had never excelled in anything at all, that I’d never felt love, or sadness, or joy, or compassion, or fear. It added that I had never been considerate of other people, or taken an interest in anything. That I had only been a burden for those around me, that I was nothing. Nothing! Its last words were that no one had been able to love me and that no one ever would. And all that is completely accurate. It’s the truth.”
Surprisingly Opal did not burst out sobbing. On the contrary, she choked back her tears and held her head up with dignity.
“I won’t be that girl,” she declared. “If no one loves me, that’s too bad! But at least now I don’t need to pretend any more that I have no feelings.”
Impressed and a little embarrassed, her two companions said nothing. Jade’s earlier compassion had vanished, and she had almost laughed at the whole scene, but Amber had silenced her with a warning look.
Unable to keep quiet any longer, Jade finally said, “It doesn’t change a thing — we’re still going to Nathyrnn! And we should get going again right away We’ll deal with this message later. In any case, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
&nbs
p; “I’d like to consult our Stones,” replied Amber. “I don’t like this business with the voice.”
“You’re scared!” said Jade mockingly.
“Yes, I am — so what? Don’t you reckon I should be? I think I have good reason to be scared, and anyway I’m not like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yes, so high and mighty that I never admit how I feel.”
“Excuse me? Are you criticising me, or what?”
“No, I’m simply making an observation. OK, OK, let’s get out the Stones. End of discussion.”
Jade’s green eyes flashed for a second as her fury began to kindle, but then it quickly died down. Each girl took her Stone from its purse and held it tightly. Nothing happened. Disappointed, Amber and Opal wondered what had gone wrong, but Jade’s anger flared up again.
“We have no choice: we have to go to Nathyrnn,” she insisted.
Amber agreed, but Opal protested immediately.
“No! Absolutely not! Whoever sent me the message told me I would meet him there. I can’t go. It’s impossible.”
“That’s right,” admitted Amber. “Perhaps you’re in real danger. Let’s avoid that city.”
Jade held her tongue for a moment. She could have been stubborn, explaining once more her desire to meet Jean Losserand, to understand the mystery of Fairytale and the meaning of the symbol. And yet, she kept quiet. Even if she was incredibly selfish (which she would never have believed, let alone admitted), even she did not want to put Opal’s life at risk. No matter how shallow she was, Jade was also intelligent. She realised that there was something odd about what the voice had said. She stood there, lost in thought, and all at once found the flaw in the message.
“We’re going to Nathyrnn,” she announced confidently. “Trust me, no one is in any danger.”
Satisfied to see his authority respected by the Council of Twelve, the Thirteenth Councillor began to speak, and the walls trembled at the hollow sound of his voice.
“Opal is under my control,” he announced calmly. “It all went just as I had wished. She believed every word I said.”
Admiration now joined the fear felt by the councillors. He stared at them haughtily for a moment, considering their greedy faces, their white hair and dull eyes. He himself did not know what old age was.
“What will happen now?” the Third Councillor ventured to ask. He was an elderly man, but still naive and easily influenced.
“There is no need for you to know.”
“Of course, naturally,” stammered the Third Councillor.
At last the councillors dared to look up at their leader. His towering form loomed in the dim light. In the darkness that concealed his face, only his eyes could be seen, piercing eyes that gleamed harshly.
“That is all. You will be informed of further developments.”
With these words, he left the chamber.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Gates of Nathyrnn
AMBER ADMIRED JADE: she seemed thoughtless and spoilt, but had just shown them that she could also be quite shrewd. She had quickly guessed what Amber would never have imagined: “If the voice threatens to find you in Nathyrnn,” she’d said with cool assurance, “it’s certainly because it hopes you won’t go there.” Opal had been hard to convince. Her pretty pale face was distorted by fear and she was shaking all over. Each step that brought her closer to the city cost her tremendous effort. At first she had begged Jade not to go on. She had shrieked with such despair that she had succeeded in terrifying herself even more. Jade had lost her temper and ordered Opal to follow them, and when that failed, she had finally grabbed Opal’s arm and given her a resounding slap. Jade was not given to patience or moderation, and Opal was suffering the consequences.
“You’re not yourself! On any other occasion, I would have had no qualms about leaving you here, but as it seems you’re at the mercy of any old telepathic enemy with nothing better to do than terrorise young girls, you’re coming with us, whether you want to or not.”
Reluctantly, her cheek burning, Opal finally gave in to Jade.
“Opal, are you feeling better?” asked Amber after a while.
Opal refused to talk about it. She felt more humiliated than frightened now, and the last thing she wanted was pity.
“I’m fine,” she said in a steady voice.
“You’re sure?” insisted Amber.
“Yes.”
“Jade,” asked Amber, “how far is it to Nathyrnn? Opal is still rather weak.”
“I feel fine,” repeated Opal, who was finding Amber’s concern rather annoying.
“We’re an hour or two away from Nathyrnn,” announced Jade.
“You’re sure we’re on the right road?”
“Absolutely,” snapped Jade.
“I’m hungry,” announced Amber. “We hardly touched our supplies this morning. We should stop again, to rest and have another meal.”
“No,” said Jade.
“We’re stopping!” declared Opal.
Jade glanced at her more in astonishment than irritation — she hadn’t expected any argument.
“Looks like we’re stopping,” said Amber.
“All right,” sighed Jade.
They sat down beside the path, surrounded by dry grass and wild flowers. Amber smiled to see the sun shining with all its might, and began eating ravenously. She looked at Opal, who, since receiving the strange telepathic message, seemed like another person. There was dismay in her big blue eyes, and all the colour had drained from her face. Amber was secretly hurt by the fact that Opal hated Amber fussing over her. Amber needed to be liked by others, and she wished Opal were more friendly, but she understood that Opal was on her guard and that she considered both her companions potential enemies.
“I’m not hungry,” said Opal, pushing back the basket Amber was offering her.
“Let’s try the Stones again,” suggested Amber.
“That doesn’t help,” said Jade, but she undid the drawstrings of her black purse anyway, and took out the Stone.
Amber and Opal did the same. This time, the effect was instantaneous. The three girls became queasy, and felt as if they were caught up in a whirlwind. They were seized with a nameless dread. The Stones seemed to be vibrating, and the girls were shaking. The sensation stopped as suddenly as it had begun, leaving the girls reeling on their feet. Amber and Jade felt utterly exhausted, but all Opal’s anxiety had vanished, and she seemed like her old self again. She was ashamed of the weakness she’d shown, and wanted to make up for it.
“Let’s head for Nathyrnn. It was stupid of me not to want to go with you. I was under the spell of that message and I was talking a lot of nonsense. Just forget what I said.”
She wanted Amber and Jade to understand that the emotional girl of before, who had spoken under the influence of the voice, wasn’t really her. She was furious with herself for the frightening ease with which she had let the voice overwhelm and disorient her.
“Jade,” said Amber as they all walked along, “when we’re in Nathyrnn, you ought to sell your gown and your jewellery so you can buy more ordinary clothing. The way you’re dressed, people will notice us.”
“I like being noticed,” Jade shot back, exasperated. “And I don’t want to look like a peasant! If you can’t afford to buy jewellery and a dress from the county of Tyrel, just shut up and let me wear what I want.”
Amber felt like snarling back at her, but she controlled herself. It was best not to aggravate Jade. It was true that her dress, delicately made by skilful artisans, suited her perfectly. Carried away by her imagination, Amber pictured Jade as a woman warrior, holding a sabre dripping with blood, riding a wild-eyed stallion as white as sea foam. Then she thought of Opal, whom she saw as a storybook princess wearing a golden diadem nestled in her curly blonde hair and a pearl-grey dress to set off her pale skin and light blue eyes — which were demurely downcast, as always. This last thought made Amber smile.
She finally woke from her r
everie when Jade cried, “Here is Nathyrnn!”
The three girls had arrived without incident outside the city. Along the way they had met only country people, who’d been surprised to see them and had not dared to look at them openly. Now fields and meadows had given way to the impressive ramparts that completely surrounded Nathyrnn.
“How do we get into the city?” asked Amber in dismay.
“I hadn’t thought about that,” replied Jade with a wry smile, attracted by the prospect of danger and the unknown.
The walls of the city were guarded by Knights of the Order, and three of them were there, bearing sharp swords, wearing grey uniforms and mounted on horses of the same colour. They were fearsome and pitiless: they were merciless in their pursuit and punishment of the guilty, enforcing the dreaded law of the Council of Twelve everywhere they went.
Signalling her companions to follow her, Jade went up to one of the knights. Amber and Opal stood warily behind her.
“What do you want?” demanded the knight rudely. He was an imposing figure, with a coarse and unattractive face. His voice was cold.
“We must enter Nathyrnn,” replied Jade boldly, not in the least intimidated.
“Your pass!”
“What pass?” said Amber without thinking, and earned a stinging look from Jade.
“Don’t listen to her,” she told the knight with a flirtatious smile. “She’s one of my servants, and she’s not quite with it.”
“Hand over your pass,” repeated the man. “No one enters Nathyrnn without a pass issued by the Duke of Divulyon, who governs this territory by decree of the Council of Twelve.”
