by A. E. Wright
Chapter Fourteen - Acquiescence
I HAD PASSED out again on the way back to Blossomdown and had managed to sleep my way through two whole days. When I awoke, I was in the familiar setting of my observatory room, Jestin sat over me tending to my wounded arms with a strange pink substance.
“What’s that?” my arms were no longer in agony. The deep gaping holes that the Gnarl’s claws had created in them were now merely scratches on the surface of the skin.
“It’s Bugul’s blood, amongst other things. He gave me a vile of it on the night you were poisoned in the forest. I was hoping to save it for after Agrona had risen but the muscles in your arms had been sliced so I didn’t have much choice.” His face was strained. The stress he was under was obvious, he wasn’t making jokes or smiling any longer. I noticed that as he applied the solution to my arms he was wincing slightly, had he been injured whilst escorting the vulnerable of the Worlen to Blossomdown?
“Take off your shirt.” I demanded. It wasn’t a request. He didn’t even put up a fight as I removed his long sleeved white smock from his shoulders. His wounds were dismaying but not because they were horrifically deep, infected or bleeding profusely. His wounds horrified me because they were exactly the same as my own. They were the same depth; they were in the same place and had the same shape. These were not wounds that had been inflicted upon him by an outside force, he had not been ambushed in the wood on the way to Blossomdown; these wounds were not wounds sustained whilst protecting the innocent from some giant adder or reaping bird. They were my wounds echoed on his skin. I cupped his guilt-ridden face in my hands exploring his emerald eyes for an explanation.
“It’s the binding spell, its punishing me for not being there to protect you. I should have been there to protect you.” He winced. He had these wounds because of me yet he was angry with himself for not being there?
“But I wasn’t hurt when the adder impaled you.” I stated. As ridiculous as it sounded I detested that this was such a one-way deal.
“You made no promise to protect me Violet, you are not bound to the spell and I am.” Jestin explained. I already knew this of course, but that didn’t make the sheer unfairness of the situation any more palatable to me.
“I want the spell undoing,” I protested defiantly. I hated that I could hurt him without even meaning to. This spell wasn’t only ridiculous, it was downright dangerous. If the people of Falinn Galdur had any chance of defeating Agrona, it was not just with Merl but Jestin too and he was compromising that by attaching himself to a weakling like me.
“Absolutely not.” He was cold and stern in his answer as if he was giving a command to a member of the Worlen army. I picked up the wicker sponge he had been using to wash the injuries from my arms and began to do the same for him.
“Save the solution, you need it more than I do.” He stated. It was true that his wounds would heal at an astoundingly rapid pace compared to mine but I wasn’t going to let him tell me I couldn’t tend to his wounds either.
“We both need it.” I smiled trying to look reassuring.
Jestin was tired. I found out later that he had sat by my side the whole forty-eight hours I had slept. I had to see Merl so I suggested he slept in my room for a while to gather some strength.
When I found Merl he was in his sitting room with Bettery, Balthus and Elba. Elba had taken to the centre of the room addressing everyone, yet she was talking in a hushed voice,
“How many more fools are going to risk their own lives and countless others for this one mortal girl? She will be dead within days when the witch has arisen.” She hissed. She was clearly frustrated that Merl had chosen to give up Agrona’s body rather than let the Gnarls take me.
“Elba, I am a man who is over one thousand years old, I have not rested since the evening I spent running through a muddy field, levitating a dead weight above my head. Not only am I exhausted, I am also positively livid that those ruddy Gnarls have managed to secure the body of my greatest enemy. Do you really think it wise to add to my annoyance by calling me a fool in my own home?” Merl’s tone was sharp, there was a distinct danger within his reply. Elba retreated into the shadows, Merl’s point had been clear enough to her.
“She’s right though.” I stated baldly as I stepped into the room. I was so angry the words had come from my mouth before I had even thought about how ungrateful I sounded. “Look out of the window, there are young and elderly Worlen who have no homes, no life because I left the gate unlocked. You can’t blame Elba for being angry that I’m still here, whilst Agrona is in the hands of the Gnarls.” My arrival into the room seemed to have surprised most of its occupants, including Elba. Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment, she must have realised that I had heard her speech.
“Now deary, it wasn’t you that caused this war. The Banshees and the Worlen have been at each other for thousands of years, long before you were born. And these people aren’t homeless they aren’t, their just waiting to be given a room. All the Bobbins have agreed to put up at least one Worlen. Mayor Wilmot Treeclasp is taking at least thirty of them into honeysuckle manor. She has the room I’ll wager.” Bettery reassured. Understanding and gracious as ever, of course Bettery wouldn’t blame me. I looked to Merl for some kind of reason,
“But Merl you’ve protected that body for hundreds of years and now it’s been taken by the very creatures you’d hidden it from.” I was grateful that he had saved me, I really was, but I would have understood if he had chosen not to.
“I have also protected something far more precious to me a similar amount of time. I will be damned if I let the last in a long line of generations descended from me dying out because of her. To hell with the witch, let her come. My beard, it’s about time I had a good scrap on my hands again.” Merl stated. He was talking as if he had been suddenly overcome with an oddly jovial spirit at the idea of facing Agrona again. I wondered if he had lost his mind altogether.
“But you can’t kill her.” I pointed out. I didn’t want to put a dampener on his sudden improvement in mood but the facts were the facts.
“Yes, correct but that isn’t to say that she couldn’t be killed. I have considered this option ever since the morning you appeared on my doorway. Now it is clear that Agrona will be awakened I think it may be our only choice.” He stroked his beard, nodding in agreement with himself. “Yes indeed it IS our only choice. Violet you are my heir, you have shown great promise in your magical ability, you have a natural ability with a long bow and you are undoubtedly brave beyond your years. With the right amount of training, I believe you will be the one to kill her.” Merl stated confidently. He had definitely lost his mind without a doubt.
“Merl if you couldn’t kill Agrona, what on earth makes you think that I could?” I asked.
“As I have already explained, Agrona is not yet immortal, she needs your heart to complete the spell she begun all those centuries ago. She can be beaten and you are the person most equipped to defeat her.” He replied. I opened my mouth to protest but he continued, “You will be able to overcome a fact that I simply could not when I battled her.” I was confused so Merl elaborated, “I had the power, magically speaking, to kill Agrona. But I couldn’t do it. I am afraid to admit I still cannot. I cannot be responsible for the final beats of my own daughters hearts, no matter who’s body they inhabit I simply cannot bring myself to..” He trailed off not even able to speak the words aloud. “You however can, I will teach you how. You Violet are Falinn Galdurs best hope of being rid of the witch Agrona once and for all.” Elba looked as shocked as I was at this sentiment, her eyebrows nearly reaching all the way up to her cropped hairline. Balthus simply smiled, as uncharacteristically quiet and reserved as he was in this moment, his face revealed his thoughts much in the same way Elba’s did. Sometimes they were so similar it was hard to believe she was not his biological daughter. I could tell he was unsure how a weakling like me would be able to overcome the most powerful woman that had ever existed. I was too. Bettery
looked concerned, I know she also thought the idea was bonkers but she would never embarrass Merl or me by speaking it aloud.
“I can’t, I could never be that powerful. I mean, let’s face it she’s going to kill me the first opportunity she gets. I’ve accepted that already Merl. I’ve even started eating the fat on the meat in hope that she might have a heart attack when she steals my heart.” I laughed at my own stupidity.
Both Elba and Balthus chuckled at my attempt at dark humour. Merl did not. His mood had soured again as rapidly as it had improved. He pointed out of the window at a passing group of Worlen children. They were smiling and picking the flowers, which were in abundance on every garden but Merl’s. They were tucking them into the curls and waves of one another’s hair. One small blonde haired boy popped a huge daisy in his mouth and spat it back out again quickly at his older sister’s command. They were appreciating the floral beauty of Blossomdown in a way that only children could. I hurt for them, what had their lives been like under the rule of the tyrant Alphus? Would they even be allowed to live under the rule of Agrona?
“Their future, our future, the future of this island is under threat Violet. Be forewarned when the witch does rise, she will do everything in her power to try to defeat me and when she learns of an heir, she will come for you. She will hunt you to the ends of the earth if needs be. She will show no mercy, she will not allow you to die quickly and painlessly. She enjoys the act of torture. It makes her feel more powerful. She is dangerous and you have something she wants. It will be a great deal easier for her to take a heart from you than from me. Are you giving up already, before the battle has even begun? If so feel free to leave this place, go to your family and spend your last days with them.” Merl retorted angrily.
I was angry at Merl too. How he could be giving me the guilt trip come pep talk when he knew, I mean truthfully and from somewhere deep inside, he knew that I didn’t stand a chance. False hope was the worst kind. I took my bow from where it had been propped up against one of the bookcases and slammed the door as I walked out of the house, Fizzlesnap shouting something about rudeness behind me. I made my way out of Blossomdown village and towards the beach where I spent my first night on Falinn Galdur.
The beach was serenity. The smooth multicoloured pebbles around the outer edges eventually gave way to soft yellow sand. Even the tempestuous sea was tranquil on this day. I hated that Merl seemed to think that I was the answer. I wasn’t brave or powerful, I was terrified on the field with the army of Gnarls surrounding us just as I had been when the adder attacked or when the Merrow pulled me under water. I was weak. I plucked one of the bluish tinted pebbles and laid it at my side on the warm sand. I waved my hand over it whispering “Cela” the pebble was gone. It was free, no longer visible, it couldn’t be disturbed, knowingly at least, by another living being. It was here but it was also gone. Purgatory. I tapped on its smooth invisible surface “Nocht.” It was back, trapped again on the island, its natural physical form restored.
“What are you doing?” A small voice asked. The blonde-haired Worlen child, who had eaten the daisy.
“I’m erm I’m… just playing I suppose.” I tried to explain in terms he might understand. His face was alight with childlike innocence.
“Oh, I like to play. We don’t get to play much in Forge Gate.” He frowned.
“I guess you spend a lot of time at a school or something?” I enquired. Judging from my time there, I got the impression that the Worlen at Forge Gate were subjected to an extremely regimented lifestyle. King Alphus restricted even the food traded in the small market, laid out just inside the gate. Balthus explained to me when we travelled through the mountain passageways that they were only allowed a certain amount of meat. There was never enough for everyone but Balthus knew the manor had more than they needed, that is why he had taken to stealing from its vast cupboards. The little boy giggled as if I had just said something ridiculous.
“No, we spend a lot of time in the forest gathering wood. Sometimes we have to go into the mountain to mine the stone. We make furniture for trading, it‘s hard my hands get really sore and my claws break.” I knew the Worlen traded furniture. Balthus had given me a fairly detailed overview of industry within Falinn Galdur. He had explained that the Worlen’s traded with stone and wood. The Banshees main currency was fabrics, and linens and the Bobbins were merchants of the products they farmed such as wheat, barley and livestock. I had just assumed that the adult’s would be the ones holding down these gruelling jobs. I ached at the idea of this tiny boy, crawling through the cold, dark mountain passageways lugging a heavy sack of stones in his wake. When I was the age of this Worlen boy my main concern in life was whether my shoes were lace up or stick across.
“My name’s Violet, what yours?” I asked.
“Crone.” He giggled again.
“Well Crone because you’re my newest little friend, I’m going to teach you one of my favourite games. What do you think?” He nodded his head in agreement.
“Good, let’s gather some pebbles.” I smiled.
We spent the rest of the afternoon skimming pebbles into the waves. Crone was charming and funny. His naturally sweet disposition uncorrupted by his harsh upbringing. It dawned on me as I played on the shore that day that I was going to help this world no matter what it cost me. I was going to do my best to save this island for Jestin, who I now knew for sure I was unmistakably and conclusively in love with. And for Merl who had lost everything once, during his own battle with the witch Agrona, for Dahlia who had no reason to return to our homeland any longer and for Crone and all the other children like him.
I walked Crone back to the home that he and his sister Delpha had been assigned, I recognised the colourful cottage, with a row of pansies framing a small cobbled pathway that led to the vibrant rosebushes, the familiar climbing nasturtiums creeping up the walls, the name Petaldopper scribed into the door.
“You’re staying with Bettery!” I was pleasantly surprised that I would get to see more of my newfound friend and I could only imagine the ever-maternal Bettery’s joy at finding she would be housing children. “Look after her for me.” I winked at him as he disappeared through the small wooden door.
Merl had been thunderous after I had left. I was surprised to learn that both Balthus and Elba would be staying, due to Merl’s outright aversion to houseguests. I remembered how steadfastly he had refused to let Dahlia stay with us. Dahlia! I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts for the past couple of days I hadn’t even thought about her. I had to see her, I knew it was dangerous but it had to be done. She would have done the same for me. Firstly, I had to think of a plan. I couldn’t just go traipsing through Thistlewick forest alone and neither Jestin nor Merl would ever agree to accompany me there. This didn’t really seem unreasonable of them due to the fact that the Banshees thought I was a traitor and wanted to kill me.
I was mulling over the issue when I noticed that my observatory room now had two smaller beds rather than my one large sunrise bed. The smaller beds were equally as magnificent as the sunrise bed, only this time they were silver and twisted up into the shape of a feather. The bedding, changed to black satin, in an odd way they reminded me of my crows wings. Jestin had obviously slept through his weariness and I guess he’d gone to help more of the Worlen evacuees find their homes. I was glad I would have peace and quiet to plan, that was until Elba entered the room, sneering at me in the process.
“Don’t think I’m fooled by your reluctant hero routine Violet. Anyone on Falinn Galdur would give their right arm to have Merl offering to train them spells and you turn your nose up like a spoilt child.” She hissed. I wasn’t in the mood for Elba’s scornfulness and I certainly wasn’t going to be bullied in my only sanctuary.
“Tell me Elba, what constitutes a spoilt child in Forge Gate, Shoes? A full belly? Having somewhere to play?” I spat back. She looked angrier than I had ever seen her.
“Don’t you dare look down your nose at my culture!
You don’t know the first thing about hardship, coming here from your cosy existence; it must have been such a shock to you.” She screamed. Her retaliation had thrown me.
“What do you mean look down my nose? I wasn’t being superior. I just can’t understand how the Worlen can allow their children to suffer so much when there is no need. They’re robbed of their childhood and fed on scraps that would barely sustain a cat. You all stand idly by whilst your king takes advantage of the most vulnerable in your society and no one objects, no one does anything to try and change things.” I was in full rant mode now. Elba’s face was bright red.
“So tell me then Violet, in the world where you belong is there no suffering? Is there no poverty or hardship?” I was defeated, I guess if I was going to argue for some kind of utopian society I should have been able to back up my points.
“Of course there is but child labour was outlawed years ago, when my world progressed.” I stated.
“Well for someone of such progression you are determinably quite ignorant.”
“Do you really think that the Worlen people want to take their children into the mountain with them? To watch them work so hard that their claws fracture and their hands bleed? To be so afraid that you cannot feed them you leave them on the doorstep of a stranger?” Elba looked shaken. I could tell the last part of that sentence had slipped out of her mouth accidentally. I had been an offensive idiot, how could I blame the poor Worlen for their condition in life when the problem really lay with the king, was it that I didn’t want to acknowledge the truth that Jestin and his family lived in luxury whilst their subjects suffered? Was he just as bad as the king was? No, he helped to smuggle food out of the castle, he loved the Worlen people, and he had sworn his life to protect them. He had sworn his life to protect me and here I sat accusing the very people he loved of ignorance and apathy. I felt guilty.
“I’m sorry if I offended you Elba. I met a little boy, a Worlen boy, on the beach today, he was so happy so full of life and joy despite everything. He helped me to decide that I would take up Merl’s offer of training. I’m going to fight the witch Agrona. I will probably die but I’m going to do it anyway. I just wanted to know that if by some miracle I manage to defeat her life will be better for him afterwards.” I offered. Elba looked shocked that I actually cared what happened to the Worlen people.
“If you promise to kill Agrona, then I promise that if you do, things will be different for the Worlen children. Even if it means assassinating that evil old demon Alphus myself. I‘m head of the secret quarter of the army you know, I can be very sneaky if I want to be.” She laughed. I laughed too, defusing the tension between us. A plan began forming in my head. My idea for a covert excursion into Thistlewick now included Elba.
