Charlotte Stone and the Children of the Nymet

by Tasha O'Neill

  She was currently by the second library, trying to get her bearings for the main gate. It was the first time she had been alone all day.

  A woman dressed in a smart suit, red hair twisted into a tight bun, walked purposely towards her. In spite of the modern clothing it was definitely The Morrigan.

  ‘And what are you doing here?’ said The Morrigan. ‘In case I didn’t make myself clear, I set you a rather urgent task. There is no time for such trivialities as school,’ she continued. The tone of disdain was clear in her voice.

  ‘Suits me fine, perhaps you could tell Clarissa because she doesn’t agree.’

  The Morrigan’s eyes flashed dangerously but she smiled sweetly.

  ‘I would have thought she would have jumped at the opportunity to restore the family name. Perhaps she is happy as a mortal after all.’

  ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Time is running out, Charlotte of Stone.’ The Morrigan ignored her question. ‘I suggest you get moving. If I have to step in believe me, the humans of Brackenheath won’t like it.’

  A girly squeal behind them prevented Charlotte from retorting.

  ‘There you are, we’ve been looking everywhere for you.’

  Charlotte cringed as Isla and her entourage appeared from round the corner and The Morrigan disappeared.

  ‘We’re heading to the sports hall to watch the archery try-outs, Govinder will be there. He’s really good.’ Isla beamed at Charlotte like she was a charity case. ‘We could go through your options too if you like? There’s a lot to choose from, it’s important to take the time to consider them all carefully.’

  Charlotte declined Isla’s offer, thankful that Clarissa was collecting her early today. She said her goodbyes and made her way to the main gates.

  ‘Hey, Charlotte,’ an Indian boy in a slim-line wheelchair came powering across the tarmac courtyard before doing a wheelie on the gravel drive. Charlotte looked at him nonplussed.

  ‘It’s Govinder. Govinder Singh. Just wondered if anyone had invited you to the sports hall? It’s a good place to catch up on the latest gossip,’ he smiled.

  ‘Sorry, I’ve been put on display so many times today, I’ve lost track of names and faces, I’m afraid,’ Charlotte apologised.

  ‘It’s OK, I’m not what you were expecting either, I’ll bet.’

  Charlotte was thinking of a tactful reply when she was distracted by shouting coming from the driveway. A small group had gathered by the time Charlotte and Govinder arrived to see Sissy being pushed about by two boys, one of which she recognised as the spotty-faced boy from her class.

  ‘The school bully, Giles Nudds… and Wilbur Trull, his muscle,’ Govinder announced.

  ‘Are they really so lame as to pick on a girl?’ Charlotte was incensed. ‘I mean, if anyone, you’d think they’d…’

  Charlotte shot a glance at Govinder’s chair and the unfinished sentence hung in the air. Charlotte waited for a well-deserved rebuke but Govinder just smiled an evil smile.

  ‘I’d run them over; in fact I have.’ He patted his chair. ‘They know not to mess with me and my wheels.’

  He gazed thoughtfully up the gravel drive where Giles was now guffawing as Wilbur threw Sissy’s bag into a tree. ‘Sissy is a prime target, however,’ he said.

  ‘I can’t stand by and watch this.’

  ‘She won’t thank you, you know.’

  ‘That’s daft… why ever not?’ Charlotte added, a little less sure of herself.

  Govinder shrugged. ‘Some obstacles we need to overcome by ourselves.’ A fresh round of laughter was accompanied by sobbing and a crowd was growing.

  ‘That’s it, I’m taking them out,’ Charlotte fumed, curling her fists into balls.

  ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ Govinder replied as he wheeled towards the sports hall.

  ‘Oi, slime for brains, want to show how tough you really are?’ It took Giles a while to realise Charlotte was talking to him; clearly he was not used to being challenged.

  ‘Well, if it isn’t the orphan,’ Giles sneered. ‘I don’t fight with riff raff.’

  ‘Wrong on both counts, moron.’

  Charlotte was beginning to see red and that wouldn’t do. You can’t fight when you are angry or you’ll make mistakes; she remembered her old karate teacher’s words and took a few steadying breaths.

  Giles was casually leaning against a tree eyeing her up and down. ‘Come to defend your new girlfriend?’

  The crowd sniggered, giving him confidence. ‘Wilbur, I think the new girl needs a lesson in how things work around here.’

  ‘I was talking to you, Nudds.’

  ‘And I told you, I don’t fight riff raff.’

  ‘Fine, I’ll fight your lackey then I’m coming for you, spud boy.’

  Wilbur was on the floor nursing bruised kidneys in three moves with Giles pinned up against the tree shortly after.

  Charlotte felt something biting into her skin. Giles was wearing a gold chain on his wrist and it was old. Before she could stop it images of a boy drowning flooded her head and her grip loosened.

  ‘You’re afraid of water,’ Charlotte gasped.

  ‘How do you know that?’ Giles looked at her with a mixture of hate and fear.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…’

  ‘Big mistake, orphan,’ Giles hissed.

  ‘Whatever, I don’t put much store in the words of bullies.’ Charlotte remembered she was trying to teach him a lesson and she twisted his shoulder again making him wince. ‘You want to watch you don’t annoy me too much or I’ll get my aunt to hex you, you cowardly toad.’

  ‘You live in the spooky old house on the cliff with that crazy old bat who makes pickles, don’t you?’ Giles blanched.

  ‘She’s not crazy, she’s a witch and she could turn you into an actual toad… won’t take much, you’re practically there already.’

  ‘I… don’t believe you. Witches don’t exist.’ He was getting less sure of himself now.

  ‘You’d better believe it, faceache.’ Charlotte was in her stride now. ‘Witches, fairies, magic trees… and unicorns I suspect!’

  Giles slipped her grip, clearly keen to put as much distance between himself and Charlotte as possible.

  ‘You’re a freak, Charlotte Stone!’ he shouted over his shoulder to a chorus of laughter.

  ‘Eye of newt, tongue of dog… bladder of a cowardly toad. Mind you don’t wet yourself!’ she shouted back.

  Sissy’s bag fell to the ground and Charlotte handed it to her.

  ‘You’re a menace, Charlotte Stone, stay away from me in future.’ Sissy glared.

  ‘I was trying to help you.’

  ‘I don’t need your sort of help,’ Sissy spat. ‘Now I’m going to be their number one target, you think about that? Are you going to be there to save me every time?’

  Sissy readjusted her uniform. ‘I just want to be left alone.’ She snatched her bag from Charlotte’s hands before storming off.

  ‘Well, well, quite an eventful first day we are having,’ said a voice behind her. Charlotte recognised the man from his picture in the Wykenhall Free Press. Mr Ransell towered over her, arms crossed, all grey suit and scowls.

  ‘Perhaps in your old school fighting was permitted, but here it is not acceptable. Being new does not exempt you from detention.’ Mr Ransell handed her a note with a room number and date scrawled in flowery handwriting. ‘3.45 and don’t be late. I suspect that will be the first of many,’ he added before picking Wilbur off the ground and marching him and Giles towards the manor house.

  Beep beeeep!

  Aunt Clarissa waved cheerfully from her VW Beetle and wound down the window as she pulled into the kerb.

  ‘Have a good day at school, Charlotte?’ she asked.

  Charlotte scuffed her boot on the pavement awkwardly, avoiding her aunt’s gaze. ‘Er…’

  ‘Did you make any friends today?’

  Charlotte considered the question for a moment, ‘Wh
at exactly do you mean by “friends”?’

  Mr Ransell

  It was definitely a safe assessment that Charlotte’s first day had not gone according to plan and she wondered if she was really cut out for the whole school experience. ‘Snap out of it, Charlotte. This is not going to beat you.’ She chanted her new affirmation with growing levels of aggression. ‘I’m going to be fine, it’s a tiny blip, nothing to panic about… think of the language lab, the two libraries…’

  Clarissa had been her usual calm self on the drive home, explaining to Charlotte how she really shouldn’t threaten her classmates with transmogrification. ‘I’m quite sure I’m not even able to do it anymore,’ she had added, which weakened her moral position in Charlotte’s opinion.

  ‘It was just a spur of the moment thing, Clarissa. I thought he was being sarcastic so I was just playing along. How did I know he really thinks you’re a witch.’

  ‘Speaking without thinking often has consequences, Charlotte, and you would do well to remember that.’

  The rest of the journey had been spent in silence and that had been the end of the matter. Charlotte couldn’t help thinking that if she had still been living with Morag, she would probably have been sent to bed without dinner and grounded for weeks. The two women were very different, and living with Clarissa definitely had its advantages. Edessa, as usual, had been right.

  Charlotte still hadn’t confessed to her detention by breakfast; Clarissa probably knew anyway but she didn’t want to push her luck. Probably best to stick to one transgression a day.

  ‘I thought I might stay behind after classes today, explore the facilities a bit more.’ Charlotte felt bad about lying.

  ‘Well, well, the girl who didn’t want to go to school now can’t stay away?’ Clarissa teased. ‘I have a meeting anyway so that works out well. Shall I collect you about four?’

  ‘Better make it five.’ Charlotte busied herself with her school bag so she didn’t have to meet her aunt’s eye.

  *

  The headlines of the school paper, The Wyked Chronicle, nearly knocked her resolve to stay at Wykenhall High. It seemed her bust up with Giles had made the front page.

  ‘You’d think they’d never seen a playground fight before,’ she grumbled to Isla and Sonia over lunch.

  ‘Well, to be fair, it is quite a rarity and, if I may be so bold, Charlotte, it is not the sort of behaviour I’d expect from one of my girls. People look up to us you know.’ Isla gave her a disapproving look.

  One of her girls! Charlotte couldn’t believe she was hearing this. What did Isla think she was, a poodle?

  As the bell rang for home time, Charlotte reluctantly made her way to room 122B and detention. A handful of other students were already there when she arrived so she made her way towards the back of the class in an attempt to blend in. No such luck, however, as Mr Ransell announced her presence almost as soon as she entered.

  ‘Ah ha, our newest celebrity, Miss Stone,’ he said with a tone loaded with sarcasm. ‘I read all about your exploits in our school paper just this morning. I’m afraid they didn’t get all their facts right though.’

  He waved the newspaper about, for emphasis. ‘Says here you have broken the school record for quickest detention for a new student,’ he tutted, shaking his head gravely.

  ‘Oooh… close but no cigar! That dubious record still remains with Giles Nudds… doesn’t it, Mr Nudds?’ Mr Ransell looked over his glasses at the boy sat behind Charlotte.

  ‘Are you always this obnoxious?’ Charlotte muttered under her breath.

  ‘I’m sorry, did you have something to say, Miss Stone? Only, I’m not used to students answering back.’ Mr Ransell fixed her with a cold stare, daring her to speak. ‘We may not be permitted to use the cane anymore alas, but I can still make your life very… interesting.’ His dangerous smile did not make it as far as his eyes.

  Oh I doubt you can top recent events, Charlotte thought, deciding it was probably best she kept that to herself.

  Time dragged in the gloomy classroom, especially after fifty-two lines of I will not practise my Ninja skills on school property. She needed to give her aching hand a rest so she watched the raindrops race each other down the window. She was starting to place bets with herself over which would win when…

  WHACK!

  ‘Miss Stone, I don’t think you fully appreciate the concept of de-tent-ion.’ The voice oozed sarcasm. ‘The one hundred lines ARE NOT OPTIONAL, and the sooner you do them the sooner I CAN GO HOME!’

  A defiant smile flickered across Charlotte’s mouth before she had a chance to stop it and Mr Ransell sneered.

  ‘Perhaps if the gut-wrenchingly stunning beauty of the school grounds is too much for you, Miss Stone, you should attend to your lines inspired by nature.’ He finished the sentence with a flourish of his hands. ‘Move your desk outside.’

  Those last four words certainly did the trick alright; Charlotte wasn’t smiling anymore.

  ‘But sir, it’s pouring.’

  ‘Then take an umbrella, we don’t want your lines to run, do we? It would be a terrible shame if you had to start all over again!’

  Charlotte had thought he was just joking but she was soon sat outside on one of the picnic tables near the running track. She could swear the rain had got heavier too. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her paper dry and the wind nearly took it on a number of occasions.

  ‘This is ridiculous!’ She threw the pen across the field. ‘I hate rain.’

  ‘Well, that’s charming.’

  Charlotte started, looking around her for the voice. ‘Boris?’ she whispered.

  ‘Certainly not,’ replied the disembodied voice, which seemed to be coming from her pen, now floating through the rain on what looked like a bubble of water.

  ‘I am Luned, your fairylore caseworker.’

  ‘A pen?’

  ‘Are all humans as stupid as you?’ the pen barked before falling to the table.

  The water bubble hung in the air for a moment before elongating and twisting into a humanoid form. Within a matter of minutes, a sinewy elfin creature stood scowling at her, sapphire eyes sparkling dangerously and pointy ears twitching under a mop of spiky ice-blonde hair. Luned wore a silken aqua-green catsuit that hugged her figure.

  ‘So what is your problem with falling water?’ Luned demanded.

  ‘It’s wet, I’m drenched, cold and my lines are ruined.’

  ‘So why didn’t you just stand between the raindrops, dinilo?’ the fairy said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  Charlotte wasn’t sure what the final word meant, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t complimentary.

  ‘I suppose that’s some kind of fairy logic!’ Charlotte retorted but Luned was ignoring her and now dancing around the table, waving her arms gracefully. When she had finished, the downpour parted and, while it seemed to be even more torrential, in a small circle around the bench it was as dry as a bone.

  ‘I’m not a fairy, I’m an Undine; but enough banter, it’s time to get down to business.’ Luned gently tapped the pen at which it jumped up and started scribbling of its own accord.

  ‘ ‘Are you going to tell me what a “fairylore case worker” is?’ Charlotte was beginning to really dislike fairies.

  ‘All you need to know is I’ve been tasked with keeping an eye on you.’

  ‘I feel so reassured.’

  ‘I wish I could say the same,’ the Undine retorted. ‘I am supposed to ensure you don’t cause any trouble; and I’ve not been impressed so far.’

  ‘I didn’t ask to be able to see fairies, or be marked by The Morrigan.’

  Luned gave Charlotte a sympathetic smile, which seemed out of character but genuine nevertheless.

  ‘No, I don’t suppose you did. You would have to be a real dinilo to desire that,’ the Undine agreed. ‘But know this: it’s not my job to look after you, Charlotte; my role is purely to protect the oak and maintain the balance of the Wyrdweb… even if that
means from you.’

  A shiver went down Charlotte’s spine. She suddenly had a strong instinct that Luned was not someone to mess with, the air around her tiny frame buzzed with power. Better to have her as an ally than an enemy, though Charlotte had no idea what she had done to earn such mistrust.

  ‘Can you at least tell me what the Wyrdweb is?’

  Luned hesitated a moment before replying. ‘It is the energy that connects all things. It holds the universe together and exists in its purest form in the Dreamtime… the space between the worlds. I am telling you this Charlotte because it is important you understand; every time someone interferes with the Wyrdweb or breaches the Dreamtime it sends ripples through all creation that can have dire consequences.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to remember that if it ever applies to me.’

  ‘Oh it certainly does.’ Luned paused for a moment to check the skies; the rain was beginning to ease. ‘The Fey Nation are well aware of your family; trouble makers, every one… and the acorn never falls far from the oak. I must go very soon but first, I was sent to give you a warning. That which belongs to Syluria must stay there, do not go disrupting the order of things. And do not put your faith in the Veshengo, they are creatures of chaos, it is their nature.’

  Luned hopped off the table and walked to the edge of the circle and the now thinning rain. A rainbow bloomed in the sky.

  ‘Remember my words, Charlotte. We will be watching you,’ she added, before disappearing into the rain. Charlotte barely had time to gather up her pen and paper, complete with a hundred perfectly written lines, before the rain came crashing in on her.

  *

  Aunt Clarissa’s distinct yellow Beetle was waiting for her outside the school gate by the time Mr Ransell had let them go and Charlotte hoped she hadn’t been waiting long. Automatically her defences went up and she prepared for a verbal battle; she knew how adults liked to lecture.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry I’m late and if you’ve been waiting ages but really, it wasn’t my fault and things ran over and I couldn’t call you…’ Charlotte launched into her speech and spoke as quickly as she could in order to get as much of her side of the story out before the inevitable lecture.