"This place worries me, Stephen," she whispered. "Maybe I'm mistaken, but there's just something ……. not right."
"Such as?" I asked, inquisitively.
"Well, for one thing," she began, "I can't contact my sister. I'm being blocked somehow and I believe it's happening from this end, not hers. I'm beginning to wonder if it's deliberate."
"What else?" I probed.
She looked around uneasily. "It just feels ……. wrong somehow. I can't explain it, or even prove it in any way, but it makes me uneasy."
She looked at me defiantly, as if daring me to tell her that she suffered from paranoia, and I noticed, not for the first time, how the lines of determination on her face made her noticeable as someone not to be taken lightly. Also, it somehow made her look even prettier.
"Don't tell that to Tracey," I advised wryly. "She's having the time of her life here, being waited on hand and foot. I’m beginning to think it's going to her head a little. I hope she doesn't expect me to continue that sort of treatment when we get back home."
Quina smiled. "I don't really blame her," she conceded. "After all, who doesn't want to be treated like a queen and pampered nearly to death? It's very tempting, you know."
"Well, it's not tempting me," I proclaimed forcefully. "In fact, it's beginning to annoy me more than a little. All this bowing and hushed awe – I don’t like it. Besides, it's all bunkum anyway. Rosewing is not the Child of Light and she never will be. A Child of Shade, maybe, because she’s certainly no angel when she wants to get her own way. She’s a wilful little imp."
"She is that," Quina agreed with a dry grin. "Now, where could she possibly have learned that, do you suppose?"
"Hey, don't look at me, Miss Innuendo," I protested. "She gets it from Tracey, if anything. I'm the only one around here who doesn't give her everything she wants."
"Yes, I've noticed that," Quina consented. "Who was it who refused to give her a piggyback ride only ten minutes ago? Of course, by ‘refused’, I mean ‘unequivocally surrendered’."
"That happens to be different," I blustered, flushing a little. "She loves those piggyback rides. What sort of father would I be if I didn't try to make my little girl happy?"
"The very best of fathers," Quina said softly, looking at me with an admiring expression. "Stephen, you're so good with her. She adores you." And then she added, lowering her eyes, "And I don't blame her."
Our intimate little conversation became interrupted by Malfour who politely asked us to come to the central hall with him. "We’re honoring the Blessed One," he murmured reverentially, when we asked him about the meeting.
"Now what?" I murmured to Quina.
Quina and I were joined by the rest of our companions and ushered along the bleak corridors until we came to an oversized room where the majority of the castle's occupants seemed to have already gathered. Something resembling an altar stood in the middle of the room and that made me shiver a little. Altars are ambiguous structures and can be the focus of good or bad rituals, depending on circumstances. Hopefully, this would be one of the ‘good’ instances.
Malfour made his way to the altar and waited until the ambient noise subsided. Then he began to lecture – no, sermonise – about the so-called virtues of my daughter, and how everyone would be the recipient of heaven's blessing, thanks to her. His audience, apart from our little group who knew better, having experienced Rosewing’s temper tantrums, seemed rapturous. Their eyes were glued to Malfour, drinking in his words with a religious frenzy. I didn't care for the atmosphere of blind acceptance and unadulterated fanaticism that his words generated. I looked across at Quina and found that she appeared equally perturbed by events. Tracey, however, her face a picture of exultation, fervently clutched Rosewing as Malfour continued to pour exaggerated compliments on her daughter. Her unthinking approval of what was being said began to alarm me. Surely she wasn't beginning to believe this rubbish? Of course, any mother loves to hear nice things about her offspring, but this ventured into the realms of the ridiculous. Okay, Rosewing might be pretty and delightful and a joy to everyone around her, but she definitely wasn't the future savior of the One and a divine manifestation. At least, as far as I knew.
Chapter 24
After further recitations of my daughter’s celestial attributes, Malfour beckoned to Tracey. Almost in a hypnotic daze spawned by the flow of words, she obliged and joined Malfour at the altar. He whispered something to her and, in response, she lifted Rosewing above her head. A sigh of exultation sounded all around the room as the followers of the Blessed One beheld the object of their adoration. To me, this was becoming more than alarming. My uneasiness began to blossom into downright fear. I noticed that Quina frowned at the spectacle. Nix fidgeted uncomfortably as he looked around and Thorn’s facial expression appeared to be a mixture of annoyance and jealousy, but I could have been totally wrong about that. Trix and Zen were glancing at the scene with interest, apparently accepting what was going on as Rosewing’s due.
Finally, the ceremony finished and Tracey, radiating pride and jubilation from every pore, returned to us and we made our way back to our rooms for something to eat. That night, as I prepared to sleep, my disturbance about what had happened returned to haunt me. I couldn't confide my fears to Tracey because she was still floating on a backwash of euphoria about Rosewing’s acceptance into the divine ranks. Surely she didn't accept this nonsense as being true? Could she really be so blind? Or was I just being niggly? After all, what harm could it do to have Rosewing put on a pedestal as the savior of the One?
A lot of harm, answered my inner self's cold analysis. What will they do when they find out she isn't the savior?
My dreams were scattered and frenetic that night, but one scene stood out as extraordinary. I found myself in a room, in fact the very room I slept in right now. I looked down at myself asleep in the bed beside Tracey. Cool, I thought, an out-of-body experience! I’ve always wanted to have one. I glanced around and beheld a beautiful young fairy. Her wings were shimmering with gold and her hair cascaded down her back. She was beyond pretty, and there was something very familiar about her. She smiled warmly at me and held out her hand. Mesmerised, I walked towards her, amazed at the detail of everything around me. I realised that this was no ordinary dream, although I wasn't sure exactly what it signified.
"Welcome," this beauteous vision told me.
"And hello to you," I replied, examining her. "I know this is going to sound banal, but haven't we met before? I feel as if I should know you."
Her smile widened. "I should hope so," she said. "After all, I am your daughter."
That statement rocked me more than a little. My daughter? My logic centres threw a fit and the gears of my rationality ground to a halt, sabotaged by the very outrageousness of her words.
"My daughter?" I stuttered. "I don't think so! Who are you really?"
This delightful apparition laughed – a wondrous sound of silver bells and the purest music. "Oh Father, I am your daughter," she claimed. "Only not in your time. I'm your daughter that will be. A future Rosewing, if you will."
"You're my grown-up baby?" I asked, astonished. "What …… How?"
"It's complicated," she assured me, grinning at my confusion. "I don't quite follow it myself either, but the time stream is being twisted and looped at this point for some reason, and I've come to visit to give you a warning."
"A warning?" I echoed, my mind numb.
"Yes," she agreed. "You're right to be having doubts about the situation. It's not what it seems and I’m in danger. The baby version of me, it is. Unless something is done, the me that I am now will never come to be."
"You'll cease to exist?" I questioned, somewhat taken aback. "But you're here, now! You must exist!"
"I'm a probability," she lectured, "not a certainty. If I do manage to stay alive over the next couple of days then I might very well grow up to be the me that you are seeing right now. I hope I do because I wouldn't want to miss all those yea
rs with you and Mother."
Well, I thought, this is an interesting situation and no mistake. It isn't every day that I talk to my future child. She was still gazing at me lovingly and I began to believe that Tracey and I hadn't done all that bad a job in raising her. If she could prove her credentials, of course. I wasn't so dazzled by her that I’d forgone all caution.
"I'm finding this a little difficult to accept," I admitted. "How do I know that you really are my daughter?”
"I understand that it's not easy for you, Father," she replied. "After all, you're not given to flights of fancy and the situation is somewhat …… unique, but you have to believe me. My very life depends on it."
"Perhaps," I said, dubiously. "How did you get here in the first place?"
"I had a little help from Quina’s sister," she confessed.
"Mirrella?" I exclaimed. "Quina told me she thought there might be some sort of a barrier in place."
"She’s right," I was told. "Mirrella is being prevented from contacting her sister. They're afraid of what she might tell Quina. Luckily, she worked out a way around that by contacting me to act as a messenger."
"Interesting," I commented. "Anyway, to get back to the point, what's this warning of yours?"
"This cult of the Blessed One is all very well," Rosewing said, "but we both know that it's sheer fantasy. The last thing I am is ‘blessed’. You should know that more than anyone, Father."
"Oh yes," I chuckled. "I always knew that wasn't the case."
"I admit to have been a bit of a scallywag in my childhood," Rosewing smiled reminiscently. "I always had to have my way."
"But you were such a cutie," I complemented, "and just look at you now. I can't believe you grew up to be so beautiful."
"You can thank Mother for that," she divulged. "I think I inherited some of her looks."
"And then some," I agreed, admiringly.
"You helped too, you know," she said, softly. "I couldn't have wished for a better parent. You gave me self-confidence and a curious nature, and taught me never to accept things as they first appeared. I want to thank you for that, Father. I love you."
"Right back at you, sweetheart," I replied, my mind still whirling with what was happening. "I see you decided to grow your hair long."
"Do you like it?" she questioned, using a hand to tease strands around her face. "I thought it'd be a little more fetching."
"Like you needed any more fetch," I snorted.
She laughed. "So you accept me now for who I am?" she enquired, raising an eyebrow.
"I think I have to," I answered. "You look so much like your mother, and there can't be two such utterly gorgeous unrelated fairies in existence."
Rosewing giggled. "You're such a flattering wombat," she told me. "No wonder Mother adores you. But back to business," she said, becoming serious. "This cult is as dangerous as the one who tried to kill me before."
"Why?" I asked. "What are they going to do?"
"There's a secret entrance to a tunnel just behind the altar," she informed me. "Look there for your answer."
"Can't you tell me any more?" I demanded, exasperated. "Don't be so cryptic."
"I'm afraid not," she answered smilingly. "I don't want to create expectations and change the outcome of anything. I have to tread very carefully here. These time loops are tricky and I don't want to predetermine your actions because any misstep might create another loop. Anyway, I have to go. It was lovely to see you, Father, and I hope to see you in the future as your fully grown daughter”
"I'll be looking forward to that," I told her truthfully. "I've always been worried that I'd make a mess of being a parent."
"Don't be," Rosewing whispered as she began to fade. "I’m eternally grateful for the way you raised me. Give my love to Mother, won't you?"
"For sure," I told her, raising a hand in farewell.
Chapter 25
I stood there for a few minutes after my daughter disappeared, pondering over what had happened. Not an everyday occurrence, I should think, but it did confirm my suspicions about what was happening around here. The trouble would to be convincing Tracey about the danger. She was becoming more and more enamored with being the Mother of the Blessed One, so much so that I might have to drag her away by sheer force. But how to convince the others? I hardly thought that a recounted conversation with my future daughter would be enough, even if they did believe me. However, she had mentioned that the answer lay in a secret passage behind the altar. That might be worthwhile investigating.
Thoughtfully, I made my way back to my bed and stood looking down at myself. Now what? Suddenly, I felt this tugging sensation towards my sleeping body and I didn't resist, hoping that it heralded a rejoining of my two selves. Well, three selves really, if you counted my two clones. My next conscious action had me laying in bed and staring up at the ceiling. I lifted my arm and examined it closely. Yes, I appeared to be me again. I glanced across at my other self beside Thorn and we both waved at each other. So far so good. Now, what to do about all of this? I'd have to tell the others, that was for sure, and we’d definitely have to investigate that secret passage. I believed that Quina would vote with me because I knew that she already had doubts about this place. Nix would grumble but he’d probably come along as well and Trix and Zen were always ready for a new adventure. Thorn and Tracey would be the hardest to convince to come on our expedition but they were the very ones who needed to find the answer, whatever it turned out to be.
I lay there churning over ideas in my mind until dawn. Tracey and Thorn awoke beside me and I gave them my usual good morning kiss and cuddle. Breakfast came and went and, after all the dishes had been taken away, I gathered everyone together to tell them about my peculiar night.
"I have something to say," I began. "Something rather peculiar and I hope you'll bear with me and keep an open mind."
"What is it, beloved?" Tracey asked. "Is it bad news?"
"I'm not sure," I answered.
"But it's downright peculiar, right?" Nix commented. "Why am I not surprised, coming from you?"
"Quiet, you miscreant!" Thorn commanded. "Nobody asked for your ridiculous opinion."
"I'm being serious here," I chastised them both. "This is no time for fooling around."
"You are serious, aren't you?" Nix observed. "Okay, lay it on us. What happened?"
"I've been having a few qualms about this place," I started, "and I believe Quina has as well. Oh, I know it's nice to be treated as royalty and everything, but there's always a hidden price to pay. We all know that Rosewing can't possibly be what these cultists think she is. She isn't the Child of Light."
"How do we know that?" Tracey demanded, bouncing Rosewing on her knee, much to my daughter’s delight. "My baby could turn out to be anything! She's totally amazing."
"You can't seriously believe that," Thorn exclaimed, frowning. "Traculimna, that’s your mother hormones talking. Rosewing may be exceptional, but that's all. She’s definitely no Child of Light."
"That's how much you know," Tracey sneered. "Rosewing is more than just exceptional. I think she's destined to achieve great things in her life."
"Is that so?" Thorn said, her voice rising. "Like you’d know anything about destiny!"
"I know more than you!" Tracey's challenged, her face turning red.
"Let's stop this before it goes any further," Quina intervened, pointedly staring at the two combatants. "I believe that Stephen is trying to tell us something."
"Yes, I'd like to continue if I could," I commented. "This concerns us all."
"Go on," Quina softly encouraged.
I took a deep breath and wondered what to say next. It sounded so bizarre I could scarcely believe it myself. Still, I knew I hadn't been dreaming. I took another deep breath and continued my tale.
"Okay, this is what happened," I said. "Please hear me out until the end. I was sleeping and suddenly I was outside of my body. I knew it for a fact because I could see myself on the bed. I met t
his beautiful One who said that Mirrella had sent her." I quickly held up my hand to forestall any questions from Quina. "Not until I'm finished, sweetie," I ordered. "Anyway, this fairy looked extremely familiar, and I soon realised why." I turned to Tracey. "She was our daughter, all grown-up. Somehow, Mirrella had cheated Time, and had sent Rosewing to me from her future." I stopped there, expecting an explosion of questions, and I wasn't disappointed.
"Our daughter?" Tracey exclaimed. "Rosewing? This Rosewing here? Stephen, have you lost your mind?"
"Mirrella did that?" Quina stated in astonishment. "How? Why didn't she contact me?"
"Now I've heard everything," Nix murmured. "But still, what did I expect from hanging around with you lot?"
"Rosewing all grown-up?" Trix blurted out. "How did she look? What did she say?"
"Are you absolutely sure you weren't dreaming?" Thorn questioned in a disbelieving voice. "It sounds so …… so impossible!"
"Have you all finished?" I asked, after they’d announced their questions. "Okay, in order then. Yes, beloved, it was our daughter. I’m absolutely positive, and I believe I'm quite rational, thank you. No, Quina, I have no idea why she contacted me instead of you. Maybe because of Rosewing’s connection to me. Hanging around our family, Nix, does appear to have its share of weird happenings, but it makes life interesting for you, anyway. I'll tell you what she said in a minute, Trix, but she looked absolutely gorgeous, just like her mother. And no, Thorn, I’m positive I wasn't dreaming. She appeared as real to me as you are right now. Okay, is everyone satisfied? I know it sounds bizarre and I'm having trouble believing it myself, but it happened. I'm asking you to trust me on this for the sake of my daughter – the daughter she is right now, I mean. My future daughter gave me a warning about her safety and I intend to follow it through, regardless of the consequences. Now, are you with me not?"
Rosewing (9) (The Underground Kingdom) Page 7
