by A. E. Wright
Chapter Eight - Bloodlines
I WATCHED THE Banshee children giggle and play as they were escorted back down the corridor by the Banshee males. Their innocent faces showing no awareness of the peril they had just been placed in by the attacking Changelings. One of the children, an oak-haired little girl, aged around six or seven, broke from the line and headed in our direction. She surveyed me, her brow furrowing with contemplation beyond her years. She reached out one small hand towards my own.
“May I?” Her tiny voice was chirpy and melodic. It reminded me of the birds that sang the morning chorus. I reached for her hand with my own, her soft skin was cool but not cold, she gazed at me stoically for just a second and then she closed her eyes for just a moment. When she reopened them, she looked at me in fear. “As the night takes you, you see the death of one who has long since passed, the creature, the traitor and the stealing of her heart. Take heed the message from a world beyond, the gate will be opened and the witch will return.”
The blonde-haired male, who had addressed Rosamaylind on the way to the throne room yesterday, called the little girl back
“Cadalin, leave our visitors be, I’m sure they are very tired after the events of today. Come, my child.” With that the girl skipped back to rejoin the end of the group, heading towards the nursery. Merl looked surprised at the little girl Cadalin’s words. They seemed to have resonated with him in a way that wasn’t clear to me, all I could feel from this bizarre encounter was deepening confusion. Merl was stroking his long beard and his eyes glazed over in thought as we continued on our path to the throne room.
“What was that all about?” I questioned Merl quietly.
“That was a very rare form of Banshee magic.” He answered as he continued to stride briskly down the corridor, “Banshee’s have differing states of consciousness. The first is the unremarkable state that you or I may walk around in everyday of our lives. The second is the auratic state, in this state many Banshees can see the aura of another creature. The third state is a much rarer thing for a Banshee. It is a dreamlike state where Banshees can slip into a kind of sleep, much like experiencing a dream to you or I, the difference being that a Banshee that can communicate with their deceased when in this state. They call it ‘journeying to the other realm.’ Very few Banshees can do so. The queen is rumored to be one such Banshee but I would not be in a position to tell you for certain.” Merl imparted before he continued. “Then there is one forth state, a state of consciousness so exceptional that only two Banshees within history have been able to reach it. One was Queen Hevra, the woman depicted in the statue on the courtyard. The other was a young princess named Idaline who lived many thousands of years ago. Not much is known of her time, other than that she was taken by a cruel ogre king and tortured for the use of her gifts. The poor princess Idaline was so emotionally disturbed by her experience that she was driven to insanity and escaped the Ogre king only to throw herself into the depths of Loch Du. It was whispered that the Princess did not die, that she in fact became the very first Merrow but these are merely whispers.”
“Oh my!” I stated in shock as we neared the grand entrance of the throne room.
“Therefore Violet, you must understand that what you just witnessed is not something that should be recounted to any old nincompoop.” Merl warned. “It could lead to very grave and perilous danger for that little girl if you did.” I nodded my head in both understanding and acceptance as we crossed the threshold of the great glass doorway.
When we entered Merl headed toward the back corner, a makeshift bed had been fashioned from cushions and silk sheeting. There, Rosamaylind was tending to the severely injured blonde Banshee, blood seeping through the cotton bandages as she gently wrapped them around each of the poor woman‘s lacerations. Merl waited while Rosamaylind finished.
“How is Devera?” Rosamaylind took Merl’s arm lightly and walked away from where the stricken Banshee now slept.
“There is no magic that can repair her wounds. The Changelings had saturated their claws with forest poison. Only ancient magic, the blood of a Bugul Noz, could cure her.” I opened my mouth to suggest that we could journey back to Bugul’s den. After all he had given me his blood when I had been poisoned. I hadn’t realised at the time but upon reading further into Thistlewick a Geography, I was shocked to find that the blood of a Bugul Noz was the only cure for the tree poison that the Spriggans’ hit me with, Merl quickly spoke before me.
“Rosamaylind do you know of a little girl named Cadalin?” Rosamaylind looked a little taken aback at the question.
“Yes, what of her?”
“We have just encountered her on the corridor, is she a dream reader?” Rosamaylind swept Merl and I quickly out of earshot. She did not want the rest of the injured occupants in the throne room to overhear.
“Please Merrydian, Violet, I implore you, we cannot continue this conversation. She will be put at great risk if anyone else was to know, she is my daughter.” Rosamaylind looked pained. Desperately wanting to protect her daughter, she kept her voice to a low whisper. Merl responded accordingly lowering his own voice.
“Of course, I made the assumption that the child was yours. Only a seer as powerful as you would be capable of bringing a dream reader into existence. They are very rare if I am not mistaken. One has not been born into your family since the great Queen Hevra. I would be most grateful however, if you could hear me out.” Rosamaylind’s face was a mixture of worry and frustration but she nodded her head for Merl to continue.
“Cadalin’s contact with Violet led her to state that the witch will rise.” Rosamaylind seemed perplexed.
“Merrydian, we were already aware that Agrona will rise, have I not shown you that myself?”
“Indeed you have Rosamaylind but your daughter spoke of a traitor, I believe she has seen a dream message that has been sent to Violet by…by,” Merl seemed to struggle with the last word and he swallowed hard, almost choking on the sentence. I couldn’t be sure but I thought his eyes seemed tearful.
“I believe in Violet’s dreams she is recounting the death of Gweniveev, my eldest daughter.” Rosamaylind was clearly sympathetic to what was now an obviously shaken Merl. It was easy to see the horror she felt at Merl’s revelation, she looked from Merl to myself and back again.
“The way Gweniveev died, the way the witch slaughtered all of your family. It remains as unthinkable now as it was on that day we found her laying there by the brook, her heart savagely taken from her body,” Rosamaylind’s own eyes filled with tears from the horror she was recalling. “But why would Violet be the one receiving the message and not you?” Merl had composed himself in manner although his voice still shook with grief.
“I believe it is because Violet is my heir. She is the descendant of the child that Gweniveev bore to the champion king before she died. Violet has been drawn to the gate because she is the first in the bloodline to be born with magical blood and therefore the first to receive the echo that my brave Gweni left as they tore out her heart.” Merl explained. In the story Merl told me on my first night in Falinn Galdur, he mentioned the champion king who died at Agrona‘s hand. He had never mentioned that it was his very own son-in-law. Merl walked over to one of the large windows on the left hand side of the throne room and rested his withered hand against the pain of glass.
“My Gweni was trying to tell us that there is a traitor in our mist. You must let her show you Violet. You must embrace the dreams, no matter how gruesome and unbearable they become.” I was finding it difficult to process the information that I was descended from Merl, let alone that Agrona viscously murdered my great ancestor for her magical heart.
“I don’t like the dreams Merl, they terrify me, and I wake in the middle of the night screaming. Please don’t ask me to encourage them.” I was pleading. Merl continued speaking with his back to me.
“You must Violet, you must let the dream run its course and try to identify the traitor. Even if you do not recognise the
m, you may be able to describe them in some way. This is of the utmost importance. The traitor may be the reason that Agrona is set to rise. If we can identify them, we may be able to put a stop to her awakening.” I wanted to protest but Merl persisted, sensing my consternation wavering.
“Violet my girl, in life the bravest of people are not the ones who do not feel fear, rather they are the ones who do the right thing in spite of it.” I took a deep breath and nodded my acceptance, resigned to open my mind to the dream message. If it meant I could save this island and the world I lived in from Agrona, it was worth it.
I had left the throne room briskly after Merl’s revelation. I didn’t want to go back to my bedroom, after the invasion by Idris, it just didn’t seem like a fitting place for contemplation of the day’s events. After a while of wondering aimlessly around the grand corridors of the great castle, I decided to head towards the bathroom. It seemed like a good place to be alone and reflect, that was until Dahlia spotted me outside of the nursery and decided to accompany me there. Unluckily for her one Banshee trait she had not inherited was being able to repel the sticky mud of the marshes. We both undressed, our backs turned to each other, and waded into the soothing water. Dahlia was smiling as she washed rinsed her hair below one of the constant streams of water, drizzling continuously from the rose petal.
“Vi don’t you think Idris is amazing! He was so worried about me when the battle started he wouldn’t even let me stop for a moment and help. He showed me to a secret cupboard in my quarters for us to hide in. He said it was important that royalty aren’t harmed during battles or the whole social structure built around them could collapse.” I was grateful that Dahlia was safe during the battle, but now I was angry that she was naïve enough to fall for his ridiculous explanation for his obvious cowardice.
“Dahlia, Jestin went out to fight, he’s royalty too, he is the son of the Worlen king and queen just like Idris. Your own mother went out to fight for goodness sake.” I retorted. Dahlia became defensive after my rather short comments.
“If you haven‘t noticed Vi ALL Banshee women fight. They are the warriors of their society, the men tend to the children and for your information Jestin‘s role isn’t as a Prince, it’s as a General, that’s what’s expected of him.” I didn’t want to argue with Dahlia. The prince had clearly manipulated her so much, that she was having problems finding his second face, so I decided that subtle investigation had to be the way forward from this point.
“Did you manage to build any diplomatic bridges between the Worlen and the Banshees today during your education on Worlen culture?” Dahlia ignored the sarcasm in my comment and a bright smile lit up on her face.
“If you mean did I kiss him Vi then the answer is yes. I’m warning you though, if you ever get your hands on Jestin be prepared. Kissing a Worlen is like playing tonsil hockey with a wolf, which I guess is kind of what it is.” She beamed. The comment confused me.
“What do you mean?” I asked, worried by the nonchalance of her tone. Dahlia looked at me as if I was missing some blatantly obvious point.
“Vi when your kissing a werewolf, don’t expect it to be all flowers and roses, I mean look at this,” She pulled down her bottom lip to show that she had a small but deep gash. “And these,” she lifted her arms above her head to expose the soft side of her wrists. She had three claw marks running directly from her wrists to her elbows. My stomach turned at the sight of the wounds that Idris had inflicted upon my friend.
“This isn’t right Dahlia, how could you let him do that to you?” I asked astounded. Dahlia was irritated again but this time I didn’t care. That snake was hurting her and then fooling her into thinking it was because of his nature. I knew this wasn’t true, the kiss I shared with Jestin in the entrance had been passionate and electric, but he hadn’t hurt me.
“What would you know Vi? Jestin isn’t going to come anywhere near you.” Dahlia said, her usual vivacious tone was distorted by her sneering. “Idris told me that the General of the Worlen army is always the younger royal brother and they are not permitted to marry until the next General turns sixteen.” Dahlia almost spat her words at me, tears spilling from her eyes. I didn’t defend myself. It was clear that Dahlia knew, on some level what was happening to her, but she seemed to have become so entranced by Idris that she didn’t want to acknowledge her own pain.
After our argument, I headed out of the bath, leaving a sobbing Dahlia to her denial. If she wasn’t going to defend herself against Idris then I would have to defend her instead.
I ran up the spiral staircase of the tower, taking two steps at a time. Passing my own room, I continued upwards two more stories until I reached the room that Idris was staying in. My own fury drove me forward and any fear I had of Idris evaporated in the mist of the baths. The door left open teasingly, only by a slight amount as if daring me to enter the chamber of a royal, goading me to enter the chamber of a beast. I pushed it open and let it swing into the stone. As I entered, a smiling Idris was sat on his grand bed, waiting. His arrogance only served to fuel my anger further
“I think you need to leave my friend alone.” I kept my voice calm. In return, he chuckled wickedly.
“You stupid girl, I see why my brother is so attracted to you, brave and loyal yet rash and easy to ensnare. You are very similar to him.” Idris had clearly worn his pleasant face for most of the day. It seemed being able to show his true self, the one he seemed to unleash purely on me, was a great relief to him.
“Your brother is a thousand times the man you are.” I kept my tone even although my heart was racing in my chest. Idris’s smirk sat stubbornly on his face but his lip twitched slightly in anger.
“You foolish, naïve girl, you do not have any idea who you are insulting. You should be bowing before me, begging for my touch as your desperate friend does. Clinging to my every word, laughing like a buffoon thinking I am impressed with her half-blood Banshee status. It really is rather pathetic, although she has served as a prime piece of bait.” My heart stopped. Idris hurt Dahlia purposely to lure me into his quarters. He wanted me to come and find him, of course he had, and that was why he was waiting on the bed for me. I reached behind my back to draw my bow. I was glad that I remembered to pick it up when I left the baths in such a hurry. Before I could bring it around and into position, Idris had me pinned against the heavy wooden door. His teeth drawn to sharp points, his eyes, the Worlen golden yellow, his back hunched as his muscles expanded rapidly. The force of the push left me winded as he pressed his snarling mouth into mine. His sharp teeth cut into the soft flesh of my lip, this wasn’t a kiss, it was an attack. He sucked in the blood flowing from the laceration into his own mouth, licking his gruesome lips in satisfaction. I couldn’t move beneath his weight but I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of witnessing my pain so I remained stationary against the door. He drew away from me before pulling me off the door and launching me like a rag doll onto his bed.
“You taste exquisite Violet, much better than your friend.” He launched himself towards me. I had to act. This was my only chance to get out. I pulled myself off the bed and rolled underneath him as he leapt over me. I scurried for the door handle but I felt his claws dig into the back of my thighs as I struggled for my freedom. I kicked backwards and hit him in the mouth with a hard blow that split his lip in two. He let out a furious growl, blood spilling from the gash in his mouth. My efforts to defend myself hadn’t been enough. I couldn’t buy myself enough time and the kick sent Idris into a wild fury. He grabbed at my ankle and dragged me further into the room. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the oncoming attack but it didn’t come. I felt the razor sharp claws release the grip on my ankle and heard a loud crack of bone against rock. I opened my eyes to see Jestin standing in the room, the muscles of his own back more pronounced and his breathing was heavy as he tried to control his anger. Idris was laying on the floor unconscious at Jestin’s feet, a large gash on his forehead from hitting the stone wall. Jestin cam
e over and gently lifted me from the floor and into his arms. I was safe again.
After carefully laying me on my bed, Jestin crossed the room and lifted the heavy bolt across the door. He looked anguished.
“I asked you to stay away from Idris. I warned you that he was dangerous Violet.” He was stern in his reproof of me. I deserved this. I deserved to be reprimanded by Jestin. I had disobeyed him and caused him to hurt his own brother, his future king. I looked into his intense eyes, the pain I saw there was my doing.
“I’m sorry, he’s been hurting Dahlia. I couldn’t just stand by and let him rip her to pieces.” I explained. Jestin flinched at my words surveying the bloodied wound on my ankle.
“I would have killed him Violet. I would have torn my own brother to pieces if he had hurt you anymore. Idris is plotting, he is a politician before anything and his ruthless ambition usually leaves guidable people like Dahlia in its wake. I knew from the moment his interest in her was sparked, that it wasn’t genuine. He wants something from you Violet. I have warned him to stay away from you. That is why he has lured you to him tonight. It is his twisted way of staying loyal to his word.” He clarified. “You are new to this world Violet. You do not understand the hierarchy of power. Idris is vulnerable as prospective king, he is unpopular with our people, he is arrogant, weak and vain. His narcissism blinds him to the responsibility that comes with the power he commands. It is only because I have strived to be the best General I can that the Worlen people accept us as their leaders. If I did not command the loyalty of the army, Idris would undoubtedly have been overthrown as prince and heir by now in favour of our younger brothers.”
“I’m sorry.” I repeated but it didn’t seem enough. Jestin was jeopardising his whole life for me. A life he had lived for hundreds of years before I was born, because of my rash behaviour. I wouldn’t be so hasty again. I needed to accept that this wasn’t a world I knew a whole lot about. I would look before I leapt. I would appreciate the power of the supernatural beings that surrounded me. I would learn the skills to protect myself from the monsters that waited for me in the dark.
As the dark gave way to the light and the sun rose above the tallest trees of Thistlewick forest, I opened my eyes to see an exhausted Jestin slumped into the chair next to my bed. His head titled in my direction, his eyes closed fast in the sleep he had missed whilst watching over me during the night. I covered him with my silk sheets and headed out to breakfast.
Every meal the Banshees ate they shared. The whole community sat around a huge table to eat the meals prepared by the males. Someone had decorated the table beautifully with the fresh cut marsh blooms. The food served consisted of wonderful concoctions of exotic looking fruits and huge vats of something very similar to porridge only slightly sweeter.
I was a hunter, stalking my quarry at the end of the huge wooden breakfast table, central in the dining hall of the Banshees’ banquet room. I knew my prey would be at the quiet end of the table, loitering in the shadows, attempting to avoid detection by the other breakfasters. I approached, anxious to get the answers I wanted, eager to do whatever it took. I needed to become the lion hearted girl. The girl who didn’t need a protector. The girl who could save her friend from a misguided love that was going to destroy her. I needed to allow Jestin to break free of our bond and become himself again. I took my place in the chair next to Merl, who had seen my approach and was now snoring loudly pretending to be asleep.
“I know you enjoy your peace and I will be out of your beard as soon as I can.” I whispered. Merl opened one eye, betraying his pretence of sleep. I continued encouraged.
“You said I was descended from you, that I was the first in the bloodline since your daughters to be born with magical blood.” Merl opened his other eye, his interest sparked by the current line of conversation.
“Indeed,” he smiled.
“I want you to teach me magic. I want to learn to use the forces of nature the way that you do.” I had the power to ask but ultimately it was Merl’s decision. A look of pride ignited the withered features of his face, making him appear younger than mere moments ago.
“We will begin your training in the courtyard this afternoon. We have two days to practice before our next journey.” He answered excitedly.
That afternoon in the courtyard of the castle, I learned my first defensive spell. Merl taught me that I had to focus my energy directly at my opponent, thrusting my adjoined palms towards them forcefully and clearly state the word ‘Verja‘. The energy would then become an advancing shield that would hit my prospective foe with such a force, it would both wind them and knock them off-balance. Merl volunteered himself as a test subject, which was rather amusing at first when my magic was a little weak and only wobbled him a little on his feet. It became too much for me when the blasts got too powerful. They were not only winding him and knocking him to the ground but also sending him backwards a few yards across the lawn. After the ninth attempt, which left him lying strewn across the grass gasping for breath, I couldn’t continue. No matter how much he tried to goad me into attacking him again.
“Whatever’s… the… matter?” He asked testily and between breaths.
“I can’t keep doing this to you, I’m hurting you! I want to finish for today.”
Merl put one frail arm underneath his ribcage, where he had landed awkwardly on the last attempt. He was huffing in his exasperation.
“Magic can be used to suppress another, cause physical harm to another and even to take another’s life. It would therefore be rather naive of you to have expected any less than what you have experienced today.” I opened my mouth to protest, but it became clear that he was far from finished. “Magic Violet, is a powerful phenomenon. It can be a thing of great joy, influencing nature; it has the power to grow a seedling to the most magnificent flower in mere seconds. It can create connections between man and beast, healing wounds that otherwise may have proven fatal if used in the right circumstances. This was the way my wife Merryweather taught my daughters to use magic. She used only simple and beautiful magic that served the forces of good.” Merl paused. His eyes gazed off into the distance, as he relived private moments long since passed.
“But there is a darker side to magic. A side that I believed I was shielding my family from, magic that I didn’t think they would ever need to know.” Merl took a breath, preparing to continue with his very personal and obviously painful tale.
“I didn’t educate them about spells that would have enabled them to defend themselves. Such spells would have allowed them to attack another being, to save them from an attack. Seemingly immortal like me, they could only be killed by another powerful witch or wizard. To my knowledge, I was the only other magical person in existence. I didn’t understand the danger posed by the mortal Princess Agrona, the daughter of king of the Id tribe. She was beautiful and wise but she was also jealous of the supernatural skills my daughters possessed. She wanted to ascend to her father’s throne before her time and so she murdered him and her mother. However, her plan backfired, her father had been a kinder king than others had and he was popular with his people. They revolted against Agrona and she fled. She was absent for some time before she resurfaced. When she did, it was with dire consequences. Somehow, she came to understand that it was possible to steal the essence of a magical person and take it into herself by….well that detail is not important.” Merl was attempting to hide his obvious revulsion at whatever fact he had emitted.
“She then took on the skills my daughters had naturally acquired.” Merl paused again, looking through the largest of the glass windows to where Bettery sat playing with one of the Banshee children.
“Had it not been for Bettery, I would not have been able to continue with my life. She found me in my darkest hour and shone a light into the most abysmal of black holes I was sinking into. She does so remind me of my middle daughter Bennevoly, caring and kind, she always thinks of others. I have never found Bennevoly’s remains, although rumours pe
rsist as to what Agrona did with her on the night she found her.”
I was sure in that moment, I witnessed in Merl’s eyes the last remaining traces of the dark place in which he had existed before.
“It was naïve of me to believe that I was protecting my family by not educating them about the darker side of magic. I will not make the same mistake with you. Any physical harm caused to myself is an insignificant step towards the terribly important task of educating you in the most powerful defence available. Your heart is white Violet. You are a magical person never corrupted by the forces of dark magic. That puts you in danger and for good reason I am asking you to allow me to taint it a little pink.” Merl’s logic made sense, although it seemed to stem from a menacingly dark place within him.
“So what, we should just carry on until I really injure you?” I was angry but Merl nodded stoically.
“I have suffered a great many pains in my lifetime Violet, none more significant than the loss of my family at the hands of the wretched witch Agrona. You are the last of a bloodline that I have watched over for many centuries. You are the only one ever born into the mortal world with magical blood. You will be the first target for Agrona. She murdered my family for the blood that pulsed through their magical hearts. The more of them she took into her being, the more powerful she became and she was all the more dangerous for it. She will want your heart Violet. You will be easy prey to her. I will eat a dragon’s scale before I allow you to walk the earth unprotected.” I finally understood why Merl had sent my parents all the way around the world. Why he kept me under his watchful eye on an island that I was never supposed to know about, in a world that I didn’t belong to. I put my hand over Merl’s as he sat beside me on the ground.
“It wasn’t your fault that they died. You were only trying to protect them from the more dangerous side of magic.” I wanted him to understand, to believe in the simple truth of my statement. I could see the pain that caused him to be so standoffish and distant, came from a deep fear that he caused the death of his own family. My heart sank for Merl, who would never be lifted from the depths of his melancholy. His immeasurable sadness would remain throughout the course of his immortality. He would always be separated from those most beloved to him. Then a darker thought occurred to me. What if Merl kept me on the island because he wanted to train me for something altogether more sinister? He had said it himself, only a powerful witch or wizard could take the life of another with magical blood. I banished the thought as soon as it occurred. Merl was physically frail and emotionally broken but he remained the greatest sorcerer that had ever lived. I would never be capable of the kind of magic he could perform. What’s more, I didn’t know if I ever wanted to be.
After our training session was over, we agreed that I would be in the courtyard at the same time tomorrow to learn the next spell. As I walked slowly to my room, climbing the stairs past the royal quarters, I noticed Dahlia’s door left slightly ajar. I walked towards it with the intent of apologising to her. I had left Dahlia sobbing at a time when she needed me the most. No matter what she had said to me in hurt and anger, I couldn’t just leave things between us unresolved. I peeped in through the gap, wanting to make sure she was actually in the room before I entered. I noticed her sat on the bed with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She was postured in the same way that a small child would sit when in need of comfort. Her dress frayed at the arms. Her face looked sad, although she wore an unsure smile as she stared across the room. I braced myself for another deep and emotional discussion, that I was certain was about to take place. As I pushed the creaking door further to enter the room, the familiar figure of Idris stood directly between us. Smiling, he looked from me to Dahlia. He was basking in her humiliation and my anger. I stood frozen in the doorway, my every instinct screaming at me to burst through the doors and drag Dahlia out of his evil clutches. Dahlia didn’t move, she didn’t ask for my help, she merely looked towards the ground as Idris slowly closed the door in front of me. I heard the iron bolt fall into place.
I continued up the stairs in frustration, wanting with every step to turn back and rescue Dahlia but I couldn’t. I couldn’t try to fight Idris again, it would only cause more trouble for Jestin and I couldn’t change Dahlia’s mind about him. I could only allow her to discover the true Idris for herself. I hoped that in time she would realise the pain he inflicted upon her wasn’t out of love but malice and hatred for her people. I sat on my bed, pulling my knees up into my chest and running my fingers through my hair in frustration. I wished I could fix the people I cared about but I was only a girl, a girl who was lost, far away from home. A gentle knock at my door preceded the entrance of Jestin.
“Pack up your things. We are advancing to Forge Gate in the morning.” He commanded.
“I thought we were setting off the day after tomorrow?” I enquired confused. This had been agreed not long after we arrived at Thistlewick Castle.
“The Banshee queen has requested time alone with her daughter. She politely and with the greatest respect, bids that we move on from Thistlewick in order for her to do so.” He replied.
“That doesn’t make sense, why would Queen Evangelista ask us to leave now? We were leaving soon anyway.” I said, slightly worried at the prospect of another uncomfortable journey through the woods. Jestin looked concerned too.
“I believe it is because Agrona is predicted to rise soon and she wishes us, in particularly yourself and Merl, to be a great distance away from Thistlewick Castle when this happens.”
I could understand why Queen Evangelista wanted to distance her people and especially her daughter from the prime targets of a psychopathic witch. I reached under the bed for my leather sack and noticed it was unbuckled. The wicker necklace that had opened the gate wasn’t there. I felt around the floor to see if it had accidentally fallen out and then searched underneath the pillows just in case I had worn it, maybe I’d forgotten to take it off and it was somewhere in the bed. It was not. Shrugging, I decided I would mention it to Merl when I had gathered my things. I guessed he would be angry that the key had been lost again but he had said himself that only an heir could open the gate. As far as I knew, I was the only heir in existence. I didn’t even look behind me as we left Thistlewick castle. Dahlia did not come to say goodbye to our leaving party. Idris‘s party was leaving at the same time from the opposite side of the castle, it was not a choice that surprised me but it still hurt. Although the castle had been spectacular in appearance and its occupants captivating, the only memory of my time there I wanted to preserve was the kiss. The kiss I had been replaying continuously in my thoughts.
