by Helen Jones
‘Be careful here,’ said Caleb, as they reached the rocky incline. ‘It can be a bit steep.’
‘Oh really?’ said Alma, already moving past him, sure-footed as a goat, holding the skirt of her dress away from her sneaker-clad feet. She had been negotiating steep cliff paths like this since she was small – they were often the only way to get to the beaches near her grandmother’s house in Wales.
‘Hey!’ he said, laughing as he picked up the pace, the two of them slipping and sliding on the rough path, each one trying to be the first to get to the golden sands below. Finally they reached the beach, Alma shouting in triumph as she jumped down to the soft sand.
‘Not fair,’ he puffed, landing a moment after she did. ‘I was carrying a pack.’
But Alma just laughed, sitting down to take off her shoes, enjoying the rough feel of warm sand against her bare feet, the taste of salt on her lips and the ceaseless shushing of the waves as they met the shore. Getting up, she brushed the sand from her skirt and went over to Caleb, who was removing his boots. Offering her hand, she pulled him to his feet and he smiled down at her, she beaming back at him, both of them pleased to be free of the confines of the library.
‘C’mon,’ she said, ‘leave the pack here. Let’s go for a walk.’
Alma darted along the sands, jumping and splashing at the water’s edge. She squealed a little as the cool waves splashed around her ankles, holding her skirts high. Caleb followed a little more slowly. He didn’t spend much time at the beach, preferring the shady reaches of the wide river that flowed, smooth and strong, to meet the sea a little further down the coast. A day’s fishing, dreaming under overhanging branches as he floated on clear water, was his idea of heaven. But Alma was really enjoying herself and he soon found himself caught up in her mood, especially when she bent down and, flicking her hands through the water, splashed him from head to toe. Roaring in mock outrage, he ran after her, splashing her until she collapsed, heaving with giggles, onto the dry sand near the water’s edge.
‘Oh Caleb, thank you for this. It’s just what I needed.’
Caleb lowered himself to sit beside her, picking up a delicate ivory shell and looking at it for a moment before passing it to Alma. She smiled her thanks and leaned back on one elbow to study the gift. Caleb fought to control his pounding heart as he looked at her, splashed and sandy, reclining on the sand. He was finding it harder and harder to conceal his feelings. Alma looked over at him and he saw her expression change, becoming more guarded. She leaned over, handing the shell back and he smiled at her, knowing he needed to, that his feelings were too apparent. She smiled back cautiously and he could see her thinking, wanting to change the mood.
‘Caleb,’ she asked. ‘Will you tell me about the Lords? The ones that went missing in my world, I mean. Please?’
Well, that would do it. He frowned and slowly sat up, hooking his hands around his bent legs and staring out at the crashing waves, his eyes becoming distant. Sea birds cried their haunting song as they wheeled above them, the smell of salt and seaweed in the air. ‘It’s… not a happy story, Alma. Are you sure you want to hear it today?’ he asked, looking back at her, unsure.
‘Yes, I do,’ said Alma. She sat up and crossed her legs, arranging her long skirt around her and trying to brush off some of the sand. She nodded, encouraging him. Her eyes, blue like the sky, held his as he began the tale.
‘They were brothers, the two that went missing, and their names were Galen and Gwion. They were both Elders in the Court of Light and very powerful.’ Caleb stopped then, looking at Alma, his face troubled. ‘I don’t know the whole story, only bits and pieces I’ve heard here and there, but the gist of it seems to be that the younger one, called Galen, was the first to be lost. Apparently he was killed in an accident in your world, I don’t know for sure. He and his brother spent a lot of time over there but one day Galen crossed and did not return.’
‘Oh, that’s awful,’ said Alma, her face mirroring her genuine sympathy. ‘How sad.’ She frowned, tracing patterns in the sand with her finger, red hair blowing in the breeze. ‘So, what happened to the other brother? To… Gwion, was it you said?’
‘Ah, well, that’s another mystery. He was sent on some sort of errand to the human realm, I’m not sure what exactly, and he just disappeared. It was a few years after Galen died… I remember it being a big deal, actually. That was when the Elders set the decree that crossing over was forbidden. They had already wanted to stop it when Galen went missing and there was a lot of arguing about it. I think they had already banned humans from being brought across at the time, you know, if they fell in love with a member of the Court, but it wasn’t until Gwion’s disappearance that they put a total ban on crossing through the Gates.’
‘But, that’s really weird,’ said Alma. ‘Why on earth would they close off the access? Why wouldn’t they want to search for Gwion? I mean, he could have needed their help.’
‘I don’t really know. Perhaps they knew it was hopeless.’
‘But, I wonder what he was doing? What his errand was?’ asked Alma, sounding intrigued.
Caleb shrugged, his gaze distant. ‘Who knows?’ he said. ‘Perhaps it was something to do with his brother? I guess we’ll never know.’
‘Maybe we’ll find the answer in one of those dusty old scrolls you keep putting in front of me,’ said Alma, her tone teasing.
Caleb half-smiled. ‘Hey, those scrolls are important,’ he said softly, glancing at her through slanted eyes.
‘I know,’ she said, and he saw her mouth twist a little. ‘And I really appreciate all the help you’re giving me.’ Reaching out, she laid her hand on his arm for a moment. ‘I couldn’t do this without you.’ She met his eyes, her hand lingering on his arm, warm from the sun. ‘And thanks, for telling me the story.’
Something passed between them and Caleb opened his mouth to speak but, before he could say anything, Alma’s stomach growled loudly and she blushed. Caleb looked at her in amazement before laughing out loud. ‘Never have I seen someone eat as much as you.’
Alma shot him a challenging look. ‘Well, I enjoy food. What of it?’
‘Enjoy it?’ scoffed Caleb. ‘I don’t know where you put it all. You should be twice the size you are.’
‘Hey!’ said Alma, pushing him in the shoulder. Then her stomach growled again and she burst out laughing, as did Caleb. Getting to his feet, he offered her his hand.
‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘We can sit up on the cliff and eat our picnic, if you like.’
Alma’s face lit up. ‘You brought food?’
‘Well, yeah,’ said Caleb, turning and starting to run. ‘I do know you, after all,’ he called over his shoulder as she squealed in outrage and ran after him.
***
Late afternoon found Caleb and Alma relaxing in a sun-drenched meadow overlooking a golden curve of sand. Bees buzzed in the wildflowers and Caleb idly chewed a piece of long grass while Alma lay back with her eyes closed, enjoying the sun’s warmth on her face, her thoughts drifting. The story about the lost lords came back to her, the whole thing mixing in with the missing Regalia. She still had no idea where to look for the Sword or any of the Regalia, despite Caleb’s confidence in her abilities. As she lay there listening to the sea pounding the shore, the words from the scroll came back into her mind, pulsing with the waves.
‘Heart’s love the Sword will lay down… Heart betrayed the Cup will take; Cold heart the Crown shall stake…’ Well. None of it really made sense. The Seers seemed to enjoy a riddle. Then she realised something.
‘Caleb.’
‘Hmmm?’
She opened her eyes to see him looking at her, blue eyes creased against the sun. ‘The riddles, you know, from the Seers. That’s an old document, right?’
He took the grass from his mouth before answering. ‘Yes, I think so. A few centuries at least.’
‘So, they knew the Regalia was going to go missing?’
‘What?’
She rolled over onto her side, resting her head on her bent arm as she looked up at him. ‘Well, that’s what it says, right? That the pieces will be taken away. By all the different… hearts?’
Caleb thought for a moment, his amiable face screwed up as he concentrated. Then he stared at her. ‘You’re right.’
‘So then why, if they knew about it, haven’t any of the Elders contacted them? To see if they know where it is?’
‘Well, they did. Remember? The Prophecy in the Great Hall?’
Alma raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s it? That’s all they could come up with?’
‘Well, it’s pretty good, I think,’ said Caleb, frowning at her a little. ‘I mean, it describes you perfectly.’
‘Oh really?’ Alma snorted, then realised she couldn’t be bothered arguing about it, not on such a nice day. Besides, it seemed they might have their first clue after all. After a pause, during which Caleb seemed to be waiting cautiously, she spoke again. ‘So could we go and see them?’
Caleb looked relieved and she hid a smile. ‘Well, I guess. But I don’t know why we’d bother. I don’t think they’ll come up with anything new.’
‘Huh.’ Alma rolled over onto her back again and closed her eyes. Then, unbidden, the thought of Deryck came to her and what she might be doing if he were there with her, instead of Caleb. Her cheeks grew hot and she put her hands up to them. Ugh, it was so complicated, that he was Dark! She just knew that Thorion and everyone would be not exactly… thrilled, if she ended up with him. Not that it was likely to happen. Not that he cared about her anyway. At least, she didn’t think so.
‘So we need to figure out who these “hearts” are then,’ said Caleb, cutting into her thoughts.
‘Um, yeah,’ she said, opening her eyes and shading them against the sun. ‘I guess we do.’
There was silence for a minute, Alma closing her eyes again and thinking of hearts. But that just brought her mind around to Deryck again. And then to a question she didn’t really want to ask.
‘So, how do we know the Dark just didn’t take the Regalia? You know, because they want it too, right?’ Caleb didn’t answer straight away and she opened her eyes to see him looking at her with a shocked expression. ‘What?’
‘There’s no way,’ he replied emphatically. ‘I mean, I don’t like the Dark, for a lot of reasons-’ his face grew troubled ‘-but, it’s one of our greatest taboos. Everyone knows the Regalia is what keeps us going. No-one would dare to steal it, at least none of the Elders, anyway.’
‘Well, at least that’s somewhere we don’t have to look.’ Alma, feeling obscurely relieved, waved away a persistent fly buzzing around her face. Then she noticed how far the sun had dropped and sat up reluctantly, realising it was nearly time for her to go. Caleb’s face fell as he realised what she was about to say. Raising a hand, he forestalled her.
‘Don’t go yet, Alma. Stay for a while longer, have some supper. You don’t always have to rush off, do you?’
‘Well,’ Alma started, then realised he was right. Thorion had said her bracelet’s power to get her back on time would lessen the longer she stayed in Ambeth, but so far she’d had no problems. She really didn’t want to go – perhaps she could stay a little longer, test it out. ‘OK, you’re on,’ she said, grinning at him. ‘So, what shall we do?’
Caleb’s face lit up with excitement. ‘Really?’ he said, his eyes bright. ‘You’ll stay? Well, we could go back to the Hall. There is always something going on of an evening. Music or dancing, or both. Then we can have supper – I know you’re still hungry.’ Alma made a face at him and he grinned back. ‘What’s the use of having that nice room if you don’t use it for anything except getting changed?’
Alma had to smile at this. She loved her tower room and went there every time she crossed over, choosing a gown from the selection in the wardrobe, leaving her human world persona behind. Today’s choice was red, with autumn leaves embroidered around the hem and ribbons at her waist.
‘Music sounds nice,’ she said, looking at him affectionately. But not too affectionately. She didn’t want to give him any ideas. ‘I’m not sure about the dancing, though. And definitely we should have supper. But then I must go back, OK?’
‘I will make sure you get back to the Gate,’ Caleb said, hand on heart and looking solemn. Then he beamed. ‘I can’t believe you’re going to stay.’
Alma smiled back, happy to see him happy. ‘So, shall we get going? I guess I’ll have to get changed again,’ she said ruefully, looking down at her skirt, which was covered with sand, salt and grass stains. ‘This gown is pretty wrecked. Adara won’t be happy with me.’
‘Ah, you look fine,’ said Caleb, hauling her to her feet. Alma screwed up her face and Caleb surveyed her again, taking in her dishevelled state. He reached out and gently picked a strand of seaweed off her sleeve. ‘Well, maybe getting changed isn’t a bad idea, after all,’ he said, frowning a little. ‘I should probably do the same.’
***
Alma was curled up in her chair, her head pillowed on her arm and snoring softly. Caleb stood up quietly, not wanting to disturb her. They had spent a pleasant hour in the Great Hall, listening to harp and drum music. Alma’s eyes were bright in the lantern-lit space and her expression rapt as she listened to the songs, moving to the beat. Caleb had almost burst with pride to be sitting with her, seeing the glances from the others, some of his friends coming over to greet them and to be introduced. Supper had been in Alma’s room, an enjoyable meal shared by the fire, their conversation gradually dwindling to a companionable silence until Caleb realised that Alma had fallen asleep. He sighed regretfully, a corner of his mouth lifting in a smile – he had hoped things might have gone differently, even though he knew she only thought of him as a friend. Leaning over he stoked the fire, coaxing it to burn a little more before retrieving a blanket from Alma’s bed to lay gently over her. She half-smiled in her sleep, sighing a little, and Caleb had to restrain himself from touching her cheek. She would be fine, he thought – he would wake early and come get her, making sure she got back to the Gate on time. He left the room, quietly latching the door behind him.
***
Alma stretched and groaned – she’d been having the best dream. She had been with Caleb in the Great Hall, listening to music and eating a delicious meal before falling asleep under a starry sky. She wriggled, wondering why her bed felt so strange and uncomfortable. The blanket slipped off her and she reached for it, her eyes finally coming open. The shock was profound. Fully awake and in a complete panic, Alma gazed around her tower room. She felt sick with horror – she had slept here! It had been no dream, the night before; she must have fallen asleep in her chair after supper. She had to leave, and fast.
Jumping up she ran her fingers through her tangled hair and hastily got changed into her normal clothes. Her shaking hands made the process harder than usual as she struggled with the fastenings on her dress. She threw it on the bed – there wasn’t time to tidy things up. She was going to kill Caleb, absolutely kill him!
Once dressed she grabbed her bag, flung the door open and ran headlong down the hall and curving stairs, taking them two at a time. Two startled courtiers coming the other way saw that she wasn’t going to stop for anyone and pressed themselves up against the wall to let her pass. Gaining the foyer, Alma sprinted for the main doors. Bursting through, she stopped for a moment to catch her breath and get her bearings, ignoring the concerned looks from the guards. She was near to tears, her vision blurring against the bright morning light. The Long Walk – that was the fastest way she knew to get through the gardens. Shouldering her pack she started to run again.
***
About half way down the Long Walk, enjoying the early morning solitude, sat Thorion, the first rays of the sun warming his face. Then a whirlwind rushed past him. A whirlwind with red hair.
‘Alma?’ he said, standing up. ‘Alma!’ he called, louder now. She stopped a little way along from him, turning to face him with
a panicked expression. ‘Alma, what is it?’ he said, hastening towards her.
‘Oh, Thorion,’ gasped Alma, obviously out of breath and near tears. ‘I fell asleep. I don’t know what time it is and I need to get back. Caleb left me-’
She stopped abruptly, choking back a sob and Thorion pulled her into a gentle hug, feeling her shaking against him. ‘It’s all right,’ he said, though worry grew within him at the mention of Caleb. ‘Whatever it is, I can help you.’ Releasing her he took her hand, leading her to sit on the stone bench. She protested at first but he insisted, and finally she acquiesced. A few tears had escaped – hastily she wiped them from her cheek.
‘Alma, explain to me what has happened.’ Holding her hand in his and stroking it gently, Thorion spoke quietly, not wanting to upset her further. ‘You fell asleep, you say – when was this?’
‘Last night,’ said Alma, her voice shaking. ‘Oh, I’m in so much trouble, I just know it!’
Thorion looked at her, puzzled. ‘But, Alma, do you not remember what I told you about your bracelet? Haven’t you been using it to cross back over?’
‘Well, yes,’ said Alma, ‘but you said that the longer I am here, the less time it gives me and I have been here all night.’ The last part was almost a wail and Thorion, seeing her real distress, sought to comfort her.
‘It will not matter, Alma,’ he said, keeping his voice gentle. ‘The bracelet will still help you to cross back to a time of your choosing. It would only be if you stayed here for a couple of days that you would have less of a window to choose from. So do not despair, dear one. You can still get home.’
‘Really?’ said Alma, an expression of hope dawning on her face.
‘Really,’ smiled Thorion, feeling a pang as he looked at her. Her red hair gleamed gold in the morning sun and her blue eyes shone. She let out a deep breath then smiled. ‘Thank you,’ she said, her voice calmer. ‘So much. For everything.’ Then, to his surprise, she gave him a hug before jumping to her feet and starting to run again.
