Oak And Mist (The Ambeth Chronicles Book 1)

by Helen Jones

  ‘I can always trust you to have the finest vintage on hand, Thorion,’ she smiled, raising her goblet to him.

  ‘Well, what use is being High King if I cannot?’ He grinned at her, then his expression grew more serious. ‘But you did not come here to discuss wine with me, dear heart. What is it that troubles you?’

  Adara looked thoughtful for a moment. Shadows danced around the chamber, cast by fire and lanterns. ‘What was she like? I mean, was she…?’

  ‘She was very like him,’ Thorion said softly, his face half in shadow. ‘And her energy shone clear. If she chooses to help us, I think we will succeed.’

  Adara nodded, her face pensive in the golden firelight. ‘And if she chooses the Dark?’

  ‘Why would she do such a thing?’

  ‘Denoris is up to something, I know it. You saw him today, him and that cat Gwenene. I am worried they will try to take the girl.’

  ‘Oh, I think they have already tried,’ replied Thorion, seeing Adara’s golden eyes widen at his words. ‘But now that I have brought Alma to the attention of the Council and placed her under my protection, they cannot move against her without moving against me. They will not take that risk, even to get control of the Regalia.’

  ‘Then you know this is what they want?’

  ‘Of course, my dear. They have wanted it for years, for all their talk of co-operation. That’s why it is so important this is done properly.’ Thorion drained his goblet then refilled it, offering Adara the jug as well. She declined, which made him smile. ‘You would not have done so some years ago,’ he said, placing the jug back on the small wooden table. Adara laughed a little, tucking an errant curl behind one ear, her eyes bright.

  ‘Nor would I still, but I fear it will just make me sad.’ Her lovely face became contemplative as she looked at the High King. ‘I am not quite myself, Thorion. I can feel things starting to move – change is upon us, and I can only hope it is for good this time.’

  Thorion leaned forward, taking her hand in his own. ‘Linked as we are to the Balance, change is the only constant for us – you know this,’ he said. ‘Not until our souls travel to the Realms of Light will we know true peace, my dear. But you are right – I too can feel it. It will happen and soon - with Alma, I think, as the catalyst.’

  Adara nodded, releasing his hand to lean back once more into the comfort of her chair. Resting her chin in her hand, she smiled at him. ‘Clever of you to send Caleb to meet her.’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Thorion, his face softening as he thought of the boy. ‘I don’t think I could have given her a better companion to help her as she came through the Gate. Plus, it gave me the chance to stop Deryck, of course.’

  Adara’s eyes widened. ‘So he was on his way-’

  ‘To the Gate? Of course he was. He could barely restrain himself while I was asking him about the festival.’ Thorion chuckled at the memory but Adara wasn’t amused.

  ‘Do not underestimate him, Thorion. He is his father’s son.’

  ‘But not yet come into his power. He spends his days chasing girls and playing at fighting – no, I do not think him a threat as yet.’

  ‘But the potential is there. He cannot help who he is.’

  ‘No, he cannot,’ mused Thorion, sitting back, his blue eyes contemplative. ‘Still, he may yet surprise us. He has his father’s intelligence – let us hope he will temper it with common sense at some point.’

  The fire crackled in the grate as they sat together. Adara finished the last of her wine and placed the goblet down. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and stretched a little, taking in a deep breath that she let out slowly. ‘I must go, I think. I am finally becoming sleepy.’

  ‘I am glad to know my company excites you so,’ laughed Thorion. Adara laughed too, looking fondly at him. Then she stood and walked over to him, bending to kiss him on the cheek.

  ‘You are as exciting as ever, my dear,’ she murmured. ‘Don’t worry, I can let myself out. Sleep well.’ Then, in a rustle of silk and satin she was gone, the door closing softly behind her, her perfume lingering in the air. Thorion shook his head, smiling ruefully. Few knew of his closeness with Adara and he preferred it that way. Her friendship was special to him, a bright thread in the weaving of his life and something he chose to keep close to his heart. He extinguished the lanterns, the glow of the fire the only light remaining.

  Once in his bedchamber he opened the shutters to the starry night, pausing to watch the tiny flecks of light as they wheeled across the heavens. Lying alone in the glimmering dark some time later he thought again of what Adara had said, that things were starting to move. Offering up a small prayer he thought, ‘May they move for the Light, this time.’

  ***

  Deryck sat in his father’s study, watching as he paced back and forth in front of the fire. Sprawled in a leather armchair, he sipped his wine, wondering what his father wanted with him. Finally, Denoris stopped pacing and fixed his son with a glare. Deryck tensed and sat up. He opened his mouth to speak but his father got there first.

  ‘Tell me again,’ Denoris snarled, his green eyes fierce ‘how it is you managed to miss making the intercept.’ He loomed over his son, furious, as he spat the words. ‘Tell me again how you spoilt our one chance to gain control of the Regalia!’ Walking back to the fireplace he slammed his fist on the mantelpiece, causing the ornaments there to jump and rattle.

  Deryck’s face darkened. ‘I told you, sir,’ he emphasized the word as he leapt to his feet and strode over to the fireplace, catching his father’s full attention. ‘I was stopped. Stopped by Thorion! What was I supposed to do?’

  ‘You were supposed to make the intercept! No matter what!’ The pair stood nose to nose, both of a similar height and colouring, both equally angry. ‘Why I left this to you, why I did not give the task to your sister I do not know! Now Thorion has claimed the girl – she is under his protection and so we cannot move against her.’

  ‘So the information was correct? The Child is a female?’ asked Deryck, intrigued despite his anger.

  Denoris’ eyes narrowed as he looked calculatingly at his handsome son, his mouth lifting in a half smile that was almost a snarl. ‘Yes, just as we were told – a girl, from the Human Realms. Thorion has spoken with her already.’

  ‘And did you find out any more about her?’ asked Deryck, his indignation starting to subside. Moving away from his father he picked up his goblet again, taking another sip of the fine wine within.

  ‘She has a talaith bracelet,’ said Denoris, glancing at Deryck, who raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Really? But where would a human get such a thing?’

  ‘Maybe she found it, maybe she stole it, I don’t know,’ replied Denoris, waving a hand dismissively. ‘Other than that, no more than we already knew. Thorion was not forthcoming with too many new details, other than the fact that he has charged Caleb with her care.’ Deryck curled his lip and Denoris nodded, his face taut. ‘He wants her to choose, if and when she returns.’

  ‘To choose?’

  ‘A side. Whether to work with Dark or Light. I do not need to tell you that it is imperative we bring her across to our side.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Deryck looked across at his father, who merely looked back at him, waiting. ‘I have been told,’ he said, raising one golden eyebrow, ‘that I can be fairly persuasive at times. When is she coming back?’

  Denoris looked briefly amused, but his eyes still glinted fire – Deryck was not fooled that his father’s mood had changed so quickly. ‘Soon,’ he said. ‘Thorion did not know when exactly. Why he did not bind her when he saw her I do not know! Ever he seeks to be seen as fair and wise.’ Denoris’ voice rose again and Deryck sighed inwardly. When his father was in one of his famous tempers there was no sense to be had from him. Taking another sip of wine, he sat back down as his father raged, nodding occasionally in response to some point, his mind elsewhere. A girl, he mused. Perhaps he could still use his talents after all.

  The Circ
le of Elders

  Alma stood in front of the Oak Gate, looking around nervously. She rubbed her arms and bobbed from foot to foot, as though warming up for a race. Anticipating the warm air and sunlight she hoped was on the other side she unzipped her fleece top and tied it round her waist. Then she picked up her backpack and shrugged it on. How different this crossing was from her previous one, when she had been so frightened, not knowing what was happening to her. This time she was full of nervous excitement, though a part of her still wasn’t sure whether she had imagined the whole thing.

  Looking around one last time to make sure she wasn’t being watched, Alma took a deep breath. ‘Here goes nothing,’ she said quietly, closing her eyes and placing her other hand over the stone in her bracelet. Breathing in and out, she tried to access the power she had felt in the woods. Energy started to pulse through the soles of her feet and the stone on her wrist warmed in response. It was happening! Alma squeaked and opened her eyes for a moment. But in doing so she lost the thread of power. ‘Damn!’ she whispered. She tried again. This time, as she felt the power build and the stone turn warm under her hand she opened her eyes and, keeping her focus, stepped between the trees.

  Light flared around her and she staggered. Dizziness took over and her vision went dark. Then it cleared and she found herself in a different world.

  She breathed in the warm golden air and laughed out loud, spinning around with arms wide, glorying both in her success and the beauty of the woods around her. Hearing an answering laugh she turned to see Caleb coming up the path towards her, a wide grin on his face. Running to meet him, she grabbed his arm in excitement.

  ‘I did it! I did it!’ she laughed, giddy with the sense of achievement. Caught up in the moment, Caleb grabbed her hand and twirled her around.

  ‘I’m glad to see you too.’

  ***

  Back in her own world it was autumn, where leaves fell from branches that stood stark against a cloudy sky, the winds cold and the days shorter. But here in Ambeth the blossoms were only just starting to fade and the air was pleasantly warm. Alma, still finding it hard to believe that she’d made it through, was bursting with questions for Caleb.

  ‘So, what do you want to know?’ he asked, his tone teasing. ‘I mean, we only have a few hours so…’

  Alma punched him lightly in the arm. ‘Hey, that’s unfair,’ she grinned, ‘I mean, there’s so much I don’t know yet.’

  ‘Well, ask away,’ smiled Caleb, rubbing his arm and making a face in mock pain. ‘Just don’t hurt me anymore, OK?’

  Alma shook her head and smiled as she fell into step beside Caleb. She thought hard. What did she want to know about first? She decided to start with something basic. ‘So what do the symbols on the Gate trees mean?’ she asked. ‘I mean, the pearly one must represent the Light, while the thundery one looks to be for the Dark, but do they actually mean anything?’

  Caleb smiled at her, charmed by her obvious interest in his world. ‘Well, I don’t know much more than that myself,’ he replied. ‘Thorion told me once that they are very old and in a language that few can read or understand any more. Other than that I cannot tell you, except that wherever you see them there stands a Gate between Ambeth and your world.’

  ‘And the Elders?’ she went on. ‘Who are they? Are they all very old?’ At this Caleb laughed, his blonde head going back as the sun danced through the leaves onto them both. ‘Hey, what’s so funny?’ she said, making a face at him. Climbing over a fallen tree, Caleb offered his hand to Alma. Still scowling, she took it and clambered across, letting go as they started walking again. ‘So?’ she said, nudging him.

  ‘Nothing, I’m sorry,’ he said, his blue eyes full of merriment. ‘It’s just, you have a new way of looking at things, I suppose. The Elders aren’t old people. That is, they don’t appear old. I suppose to humans they would be very old indeed.’ Alma looked at him, slightly shocked.

  ‘So, th-they aren’t human?’ Her voice went up at the end of the question to almost a squeak.

  ‘Well, no,’ said Caleb, giving her a quizzical look. ‘You remember, I told you I was only half-human the last time you were here. Those who bear the full blood of either Light or Dark are very long lived – a century passing in your world would be but a few years to them.’ Steering Alma around a boulder that jutted from the high bank next to them he went on, warming to the topic. ‘Thorion is High King over all and the Elders are drawn from the Dark and Light to form his Council, acting as advisors. There are about twenty in all at any given time, with a smaller number of the highest ranking Lords forming his inner circle.’

  Alma was silent for a moment, thinking it over. Thorion had seemed quite young to her - no more than thirty, she would have said, and yet here was Caleb saying he was hundreds, possibly a thousand years old. She remembered Caleb describing himself as half-human but hadn’t stopped to consider what that meant.

  ‘But, what about you? I mean, if you are half of the Light, does that mean you’ll live longer as well?’ she asked.

  Caleb shook his head. ‘I may live a little longer than the average human,’ he said, ‘but not much longer – it is just the way of things. The human blood in me, I suppose.’

  A shadow seemed to pass over them for a moment as the sun went behind a cloud. Alma shivered. ‘Are you cold?’ asked Caleb, concerned. ‘Here, have my cloak.’

  He started to unfasten the neckties but Alma stopped him. She pulled her hoodie from around her waist and shrugged it on over her t-shirt. ‘See, problem solved. But thanks for the offer anyway.’

  As they resumed their walk, Caleb took her arm to link with his. She glanced at him, unsure and he looked taken aback. ‘You don’t mind, do you? I mean, we did the other day-‘

  ‘No, no, it’s fine,’ said Alma hastily, smiling at him, It was fine - in fact she liked it. She just wasn’t used to it. There was an awkward silence before Caleb spoke again.

  ‘So, how was the crossing?’

  ‘Well, it was fine, I guess,’ replied Alma. ‘I mean, I just did the same thing as last time and it seemed to work. I’m here, anyway.’

  ‘It’s good that you’re wearing your bracelet again,’ went on Caleb. ‘Do you know it will also protect you from being trapped here too long?’

  Alma looked at him, surprised. ‘You mean, I could get stuck here if I wasn’t wearing it?’ That didn’t sound good – she had better make sure she was wearing it every day from now on. Caleb looked serious.

  ‘Well, it has happened – some humans have crossed over by accident and not been able to get back. There is a village on the other side of the meadow which is mostly humans – those who have come across and chosen to make their life here, others who have come over and not been able to get back for one reason or another.’

  ‘Really?’ said Alma, amazed. She didn’t remember noticing a village last time but then there had been so much going on it wasn’t surprising. As they came through the low bushes into the meadow, Caleb stopped and pointed.

  ‘See?’ he said. Alma looked to where he was pointing and saw a small huddle of stone houses at the far end of the field, some with smoke coming from their chimneys. Their small gardens were bright with flowers and greenery. It looked pretty and peaceful, a perfect small village. But if what Caleb said was true…

  ‘But how awful,’ she said, glancing again at the village as they started across the field, ‘to be trapped here! I mean, I wonder what their families think?’

  She looked at Caleb, her face creased in concern and he nodded, although he looked unsure as to why she was so worried. ‘I believe they all look after each other, you know, regularly checking the Gates just in case. Newcomers are welcomed into the community and looked after very well, by all accounts. It’s not so bad a place, you know,’ he added, smiling again.

  ‘Well, no, I guess not,’ said Alma, a little shocked at Caleb’s casual attitude. They had reached the gardens and went to sit down on a cushioned bench in the shade of a giant eucalyp
t, silver green leaves scenting the air. She tried to get Caleb to understand. ‘But… What about their lives in the human world? I mean, can they ever get home, if they want to?’

  Caleb sighed, looking at her with eyes blue as the sea, his expression gentle. ‘Well, for those who wish to return to their homes, there are some members of the Light who will take them back across, if petitioned. The problem lies in how much time may have passed since they crossed through.’

  ‘So, they might have been gone only a few days here,’ asked Alma, struggling to understand, ‘but they could get back and find-’

  ‘-that much more time has passed in their world.’ Caleb finished. ‘So you can see, it’s not always the best solution.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Alma. ‘That is… a lot to think about. I mean, there are stories in my world of people who spend a night in fairyland only to come back the next morning and find a hundred years have passed. I just thought they were fairy tales, but now…’ She was silent for a moment, her hand to her mouth. ‘So how is it that I’m able to cross through in normal time? Is it the bracelet?’

  ‘I guess,’ said Caleb. ‘At least, that’s how I understand it.’ He ran a hand through his hair, making it even more unruly than before. ‘The best person to ask would be Thorion, I suppose. He knows far more about these things than I do.’

  ‘I-I will,’ said Alma, a little distracted at the thought of the handsome High King. Her face lit up. ‘So, will I get to see him again?’

  Caleb smiled at her obvious eagerness. ‘Yes, in fact he’s waiting for you right now,’ he said. ‘They all are.’