by Helen Jones
Oak and Mist
Volume One of The Ambeth Chronicles
Helen Jones
Copyright © 2015 Helen Jones
Illustrations and cover design copyright © 2015 Helen Jones
All rights reserved.
www.journeytoambeth.com
For Marcus and Isabelle, who make it all possible.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
With thanks to Lucy York for her editing expertise, to Rich Jones at Turning Rebellion for the beautiful cover design, to David Ryan for slogging through the ridiculously long first draft and being gracious about it, to Pam, Nicky, Lin, Neralie, Mandy and Louise for reading and loving the story so far, to bloggers far and wide for sharing their knowledge so generously, to my family and friends for their love and support, and to my beloved Marcus and Isabelle, for coming on this journey with me.
CONTENTS
Nightmare
Darkness Wakes
Gate of Oak
No Place Like Home
Infinite Possibility
Vanishing Act
The Circle of Elders
Prophecy’s Child
Friendships Are Tested
All Hearts
Do You Always Talk To Birds?
Temptation, Frustration
Heart’s Love
The Closed Gate
Dark Valley
The Sword
Celebration
Nightmare
Spotting the path turning through the trees, she dropped her bike at the edge of the bushes and left the others behind, eager to find something new. Dead leaves and brambles crunched underfoot as she made her way through the darkening wood. She emerged onto a slope that led down into a tree-filled valley, her feet slipping on the sandy soil. She paused, sensing something wasn’t quite right. As she peered down cautiously into the shadows, low-lying mist curled out to obscure her view. Her stomach fluttered and flipped as her sense of unease increased.
Then the scream came, loud and ragged with pain, arcing up from under the pines. The clash of metal and strange scraping sounds echoed in the cool autumn air and a huge shape moved in the darkness, followed by a grunting noise and a soft thump, as though something had fallen. A soft silver light flared under the trees and she flinched, her red hair falling in her face as she slowly backed away, one hand to her mouth. Turning in panic she fled along the forest path and burst out into the park, relieved beyond anything to see Sara waiting for her.
‘Alma! Where did you go? I’ve been looking for you.’
‘Um, nowhere, just got lost. C’mon, let’s go.’ She jumped on her bike and rode away, not daring to look back. Sara followed behind…
Alma woke with a start, her heart pounding, her buzzing alarm breaking into the dream. She stared at the ceiling for a moment then rolled over to grab her phone, hitting the snooze button. Then she realised the time. Damn. She was going to be late if she didn’t get up soon. Downstairs she could hear her younger brothers moving around and her mother calling to them. She closed her eyes, scrunching them together, wanting to sleep some more. But the day and school wouldn’t wait. Sitting up, she slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. Why was she dreaming about the valley again? It had happened so long ago she had almost forgotten about it. Shaking her head, she got to her feet and dragged herself downstairs. Time to get on with the day.
***
‘Ow!’
Alma slammed into the row of lockers, banging her shoulder hard and dropping her books as she fell.
‘Watch where you’re going.’ The other girl sneered down at her, then sauntered off. Outraged, Sara rushed over to help her friend up.
‘What the hell was that?’ Alma was completely shaken by the sudden attack. ‘Ellery!’ she shouted after her. But she was gone.
‘Are you all right?’ Sara handed Alma her books, her brown eyes crinkled with concern.
‘Um, yeah, no, I don’t know. What is her problem?’ Alma was breathing hard, a pain in her chest and tears threatening, but there was no way she was giving in. Seeing the curious looks from the other students as they tapped on their phones, she brushed herself off, shaking out her long hair.
‘Show’s over,’ she said, linking her arm with Sara’s and starting down the hall. She tried to act like it was no big deal, though she could feel her face was red.
‘Are you sure you’re OK? What a bitch!’ Sara looked back to see if Ellery was following them. Alma fought to calm down, not wanting to seem like she cared, though she knew Sara would see right through her.
‘I know, right? It’s like she thinks the world owes her something, just cos of how she looks.’ Breathing deeply, she managed to smile at Sara. ‘Don’t worry about it, OK? Let’s just go to class.’
But she was troubled for the rest of the day. Ellery was beautiful, everyone knew that, but she had a personality that could strip paint. And now she had taken a dislike to Alma.
***
Alma pulled her chair up to the kitchen table, the legs scraping across the tile floor. She sat down and started to pick at her meal, ignoring Toby and Aidan who were having one of their usual mealtime disagreements. Across the table her mother and father were already eating. Alma ignored them too.
‘So, Alma, how was your day?’ Eleanor asked, smiling at her daughter. Alma just scowled.
‘Fine, I guess.’
‘Really?’ Eleanor glanced at Graham, who just shrugged.
‘Yeah – hey!’ Toby banged into Alma, pushed by his twin, the argument escalating. Both of them carried on shouting and shoving each other, prompting Eleanor to intervene. Alma threw down her cutlery with a huffy sigh and sat back, rubbing her sore shoulder as she looked out through the French doors. In the garden leaves were turning from green to gold, bright in the setting sun.
‘I think I need to go for a walk,’ she announced to no one in particular. Then, focusing on her mother ‘May I be excused?’ Eleanor nodded, though she darted another glance at her husband as Alma got up and began to rinse her dishes noisily at the sink.
‘Alma, where are you going?’ asked Eleanor.
‘Out,’ said Alma as she strode past into the lounge and scooped her bag up from the sofa. ‘To the park. I’ll be back later.’ Her voice drifted down the hallway followed by the sound of the side door closing.
The sky still held the last of its light as Alma stepped outside, the cool air carrying the autumn scents of wood smoke and dead leaves. Hands in pockets she started to walk, her head down and feet scuffing the pavement. One thought was on her mind: What the hell was going on with Ellery? At the end of her street she stopped at the wooden gate and looked up at the vast oak tree standing next to it, its branches spreading across the sky. She could still remember putting her arms around the trunk when she was small, pressing her face to the rough bark and hugging it close as she listened. She’d felt sure she could hear the tree talking as the wind swooshed through its branches. She leaned her head on it now, one hand resting on the rough trunk, but it remained silent, offering no answers for her troubled thoughts.
After a few moments she went through the gate into the sloping meadow bounded with hawthorn. She skirted the old millpond with its fringe of rushes and wildflowers then crossed the road under an old stone bridge to arrive on the edge of the Armorial Park. The sun was setting over its green expanse, shadows stretching beneath the trees and her mood lifted at the familiar sight. She weaved her way through the dog-walkers and joggers, past the tennis courts and playground and the small cafe, its lights shining golden in the dusk, and headed for the woods on the other side of the park where dark copper beeches massed
like thunderclouds against the lighter gold of oak and horse chestnut. She had always loved coming to the park, first with her parents then later with friends, playing in the fields and woods. Now she would come here when she needed to sit and think. Her favourite spot was a bench carved from a gnarled and ancient piece of wood, rubbed smooth by the many people who’d rested there over the years. It was empty now and Alma sat down, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. As the shadows lengthened, she twiddled the bracelet on her wrist round and round. The silver links caught the last of the fading light as she rubbed her fingers across the smooth gemstone, something about the action calming her after the strange events of the day.
It was her fifteenth birthday. Alma followed Eleanor’s slight figure up to her bedroom where she opened her jewellery box, lifting the top tray to take out an object tied in a scrap of faded silk.
‘Happy birthday,’ she said with a smile, holding the little package for a moment before giving it to Alma who took it and looked at her mother with raised eyebrows.
‘It’s from your father’s family, Alma. He always wanted you to have it.’
‘From my-‘
‘From your real father,’ said Eleanor, her voice catching on the words. Alma’s father had died before she was born. She had only learnt this a couple of years earlier, overhearing a whispered conversation in a darkened garden between her mother and grandmother. It had freaked her out for a while but in the end Graham was her dad, the only one she had ever known.
‘Really?’ Her blue eyes, the same as her mother’s, widened as she carefully unwrapped the piece of silk to reveal a bracelet, a thick silver chain fastened by a hook clasp, the metal engraved all over with tiny curling leaves. A blue stone was suspended between two of the links and as she turned it in the light it seemed to shimmer with gold threads, colours swirling across the surface like oil on water.
‘Wow,’ she breathed, holding it carefully, her hands shaking slightly. ‘It’s beautiful, Mum.’
Eleanor looked fondly at her, her eyes suspiciously bright. ‘Here, let me help you put it on.’ Taking the bracelet, she placed it around Alma’s wrist and fastened the clasp. As she went to close her jewellery box, the lid slipped through her trembling fingers and banged shut, making Alma jump.
‘You okay, Mum?’ she asked, frowning.
Eleanor turned around, smiling, though her mouth shook a bit. ‘I’m fine.’ Then she looked at Alma and her face softened with love. ‘Really, I am,’ she said. ‘It’s… just been a while since I’ve seen the bracelet, that’s all.’ She reached out to touch the links for a moment. ‘It suits you.’
‘I love it.’ Alma gave her mother a hug and Eleanor squeezed her tight before pulling back to look at her daughter.
‘Good,’ she said, ‘I hope you’ll wear it then.’
Smiling at the memory, Alma turned the bracelet on her wrist once more, somehow feeling closer to her unknown father. Which was weird, seeing as she’d never met him. Resting her chin in her hand she watched a group of boys kicking a football, the War Memorial looming like a golden tower behind them. Her thoughts drifted along with the patterns of movement and colour they made against the green grass and golden leaves. Then she stiffened and sat up. Long legs, long dark hair and a flash of bright red jacket over the skinniest of dark jeans. It was Ellery and, by the speed at which she was walking in Alma’s direction, she had seen her. Great.
Flanked by two other girls, Ellery marched towards Alma and stopped a few feet away, her arms folded and her face hard. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’
Alma stood up, fists clenched at her side. She was damned if she was going to just sit there and take whatever Ellery decided to dish out.
‘So? I don’t know what your problem is, Ellery, I’ve done nothing to you.’
‘Oh, I know you haven’t done anything,’ Ellery said in her clear voice, her green eyes cold. ‘I’ve just decided that I. Don’t. Like. You.’
The way she said it, each word enunciated so clearly, hit Alma like a blow. But there was no way she was giving Ellery the satisfaction of seeing her react.
‘Why? Like I said, what’s the problem?’
Ellery looked briefly surprised, then she jerked her head and the other two girls moved to stand behind Alma, fencing her in. Dee and Nicole, runners up for the top bitch award and always hanging with Ellery. This was not going to be good. Her stomach flipped but she refused to give in, facing Ellery defiantly. ‘So, what are you going to do?’ Her long red hair blew across her face and she pushed it back angrily. One of the girls snickered.
‘I’ve decided,’ said Ellery, ‘that we’re going to beat you up a bit – you know, just for fun.’ She smiled but there was no warmth in it. Despite her challenging stance, Alma felt dizzy with fear, her heart racing. Still she refused to back down.
‘Why?’ she asked again, her blue eyes fixed on Ellery.
‘Because I feel like it!’ Shocked by the other girl’s sudden anger, Alma couldn’t help taking a step back. ‘I don’t need a reason – stop questioning me!’
She reached out to grab Alma but wasn’t quite fast enough. Alma jerked her arm free and darted between the other two girls. She grabbed her bag and ran, but Ellery and her friends soon cut her off. First one girl bumped her, then another as they jostled her towards the edge of the trees. Alma gasped for breath, more frightened than she’d ever been before but determined not to go down without a fight. Pushing back, she managed to throw one girl off balance, but the other two closed in, their hands rough as they shoved her and pulled at her clothes.
Ellery grabbed at her again and Alma struck out, surprised to see the other girl recoil as though stung. Feeling a pain in her wrist Alma looked down to see the stone in her bracelet glowing golden, burning hot against her skin. What the hell? But there wasn’t time to worry about it now. Alma glanced up and saw she was near to a gap between two oak trees, beyond which she knew was a track that would take her to the edge of the park and home. But before she could move Ellery pushed her so hard she almost fell, stumbling into the space between the trees. There was a split second flare of light, and she was gone.
The other two girls turned to look at Ellery, who was breathing hard and furious.
‘What…What was that?’ said Dee, confused.
Nicole peered through the gap in the trees. ‘She’s gone – I can’t see her at all.’
Regaining her composure, Ellery flicked her dark hair back from her face. Then, using certain powers she had at her disposal, she looked each girl in the eyes and told her to forget all about Alma and what they had seen today. They did as they were told – just like they always did.
Darkness Wakes
Deryck woke and stretched, feeling his muscles moving against the down pillows. The servants had already been in to set the fire, his clothes for the day were laid out for him and breakfast was waiting on the small table by the window. All he needed to do was get up. He smiled, green eyes narrowing to slits as he thought of what was to come. His father’s great plan – today was the day it would be set in motion, that the Dark would start to rise again, to take the power that was rightfully theirs. Sitting up, he ran his hand through his golden hair, pushing it back from his face as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Time to get on with the day.
After eating, he dressed quickly and was soon in the gardens, moving down the Long Walk. His green velvet cloak swirled around him as he walked through the patterns of light and shade made by the trees and topiary shrubs lining his path. White gravel crunched underfoot as he strode along, nodding to the occasional acquaintance, seeming nothing more than another member of the Court enjoying the gardens on a beautiful day. Smiling to himself, he quickened his pace. Only a few minutes more and he would have her – the Child of the Prophecy. Deryck couldn’t wait to see the look on Thorion’s face when the High King realised the Light had failed and the Dark were ready to take control. Reaching the edge of the gardens he stepped onto the ancient path that
wound white across the green meadow, leading to the door between the worlds. But then a voice rang out, calling his name. He stopped, his face twisting with annoyance. He dare not ignore a summons from the High King. Composing himself Deryck turned to face him, bowing as was proper, waiting for the King to speak. Thorion smiled at him, the sun glinting from the gold circlet around his brow.
‘I need to talk with you, if you please, Deryck. Will you walk with me?’
Deryck and Thorion walked through the gardens together, the King taking one path after another as he talked. Keeping pace with him, Deryck nodded in response to yet another question about the upcoming festival, trying to keep his temper. Then he realised the King was waiting for an answer.
‘Well, ahem.’ He cleared his throat, his desperation choking him. ‘I think the group who play in the Hall most evenings would suit. They seem to be popular with everyone. I know my father enjoys their music.’
Thorion nodded, seeming to be deep in thought. Then he smiled. ‘A good choice, I think. And the refreshments?’
Deryck shook his head, frowning a little. ‘I don’t know,’ he muttered, unable to conceal his lack of interest completely. Thorion glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. Deryck pulled himself together, straightening his shoulders. ‘I mean, my Lord, whatever they normally serve at such things will be more than sufficient, I’m sure. Would not some other courtier be better placed to tell you? I confess I do not notice, other than the wine.’ He smiled, but it was more of a grimace, his hands clenching briefly as they moved further away from the Gate.
To his surprise Thorion laughed, clapping him briefly on the shoulder. ‘Too true,’ he said, smiling at him, though his eyes were midway between blue and grey. ‘Perhaps the Lady Adara would be more helpful in that regard. Still, I do appreciate your input, Deryck,’ the High King went on, his tone still pleasant. ‘It is vital that both sides contribute towards the shape of the festivities, especially with things as they are, don’t you agree?’ He turned along the path leading back to the palace. Despite his frustration, Deryck felt bound to follow.
