Oak And Mist (The Ambeth Chronicles Book 1)

by Helen Jones

‘Oh, yeah,’ said Alma, turning her pastry dough out onto the floured surface of the table. She took a moment to round it and sprinkle it with yet more flour before starting to roll it out using the old wooden rolling pin that had been her grandmother’s. ‘Yes, we’ve got some stuff planned, parties and things. And we’re going out shopping tomorrow.’ Getting the pastry to the thickness she desired, Alma took the little circular cutter and started to cut out the tops and bases for her pies. ‘I think tonight though,’ she said casually, glancing at her mother, ‘I might just go for a walk.’

  ‘In this?’ said her mother, gesturing out to the cold garden, the light already fading even though it was not yet four o’clock.

  ‘Yes,’ said Alma, starting to put the circles of pastry into the baking tray so they made little cups. Once she had done that, she started spooning in the spiced raisin mixture. ‘I don’t mind this weather, you know? And I want some fresh air after being in the kitchen all day.’ She darted a smile at her mother with that comment, knowing how much time Eleanor spent in her beloved kitchen.

  Her mother smiled back at her, shaking her head. ‘Well, just make sure you wrap up warm, OK?’

  ‘OK, mum,’ said Alma in a mocking tone, though she softened it with another smile. How old did her mother think she was? Still, she got it - the love behind her words. Gently she brushed the edge of the pastry cups with some milk before placing the little circles of pastry on top, completing her pies. After pricking each with a fork she stood back, wiping her hands on her apron with a look of satisfaction on her face. ‘All finished,’ she said. ‘Now, time to put them in the oven.’

  ‘And then clean up,’ said her mother, an amused look on her face as she surveyed the general devastation.

  ‘Hmmm, yeah,’ said Alma, as if noticing the mess for the first time. ‘A messy cook’s a good cook, right?’ she said hopefully.

  ‘Well then, your mince pies should be especially tasty this year, Alma,’ said Eleanor, getting up. ‘Good luck!’ she said as she exited the kitchen. Alma could hear her chuckling as she went down the hall to the front room.

  Letting out a sigh, Alma placed her pies carefully in the oven, before starting, slowly, to clean up.

  ***

  Though the night was dark and cold, the park was still populated with die-hard exercise enthusiasts and dog walkers. Alma threaded her way through them on her way to the Oak Gate which waited, dark and imposing even without its crown of leaves. She had dressed in layers, looking forward to the warmer weather of Ambeth and feeling the sun on her skin. In her backpack were half a dozen of her mince pies, carefully wrapped as a gift for Caleb. She wasn’t sure whether he even celebrated Christmas but he meant too much to her to let the season pass without marking it in some way.

  Stopping at the Gate, Alma closed her eyes, reaching within for the focus that helped her to cross at her chosen time. Hearing the slap of feet on the path coming nearer, she opened her eyes and stepped back to let two joggers go past, one of whom gave her a curious look. She smiled back innocently, though she went cold at the thought of how close she had come to being seen. Once they had passed and she had made sure there was no one else nearby, she tried again. Closing one hand over her bracelet, she breathed deeply, waiting for the answering warmth in the stone that would let her know she could pass through safely. Feeling it flare under her palm, she opened her eyes and, checking once more that no one was there to see her, stepped through.

  This time she stepped into early summer, the forest glossy and green, the blossoms almost gone. The rich smells of earth and foliage filled her nostrils, birds sang in the trees and small forest creatures rustled in the undergrowth. Unzipping her fleece she stuffed it into her pack, enjoying the warm sunshine as it filtered through the green canopy above. Caleb was waiting in his usual spot, a smile lighting his face as he saw her.

  ‘Alma,’ he called out. She ran to meet him, matching his smile with one of her own, squashing down her mild disappointment that it wasn’t Deryck waiting for her.

  ‘I made it!’

  ‘You always do,’ laughed Caleb. ‘Took your time though, I didn’t think you were coming.’

  ‘Why, am I late?’ asked Alma. ‘I’m still working on getting the timing right – I thought I had it this time, although I had to wait for a couple of joggers to pass before I could step through the Gate.’

  They fell into into step together, taking the well-worn path through the woodland to the open green and gardens beyond. Alma’s face was full of joy as she took in the familiar view and Caleb grinned at her obvious delight, purposely bumping into her and making her giggle. He laughed as well, his eyes full of affection for her.

  ‘Hey,’ Alma said, stepping out of Caleb’s way as he tried to bump her again, stopping on the path. ‘Be careful! I have something for you and I don’t want it to get squashed.’ She smiled at him, shading her eyes from the sun.

  ‘Really?’ said Caleb, his face lighting up.’ Because… I have something for you as well.’

  It was Alma’s turn to be amazed. ‘I didn’t know you celebrated Christmas!’

  ‘Oh, we don’t,’ said Caleb, ‘but we do mark Midwinter in your world, regardless of the season here. It is a Feast day for us… anyway,’ he went on, blushing slightly. ’This is for you.’ He held out a package wrapped in soft green tissue and tied with string. Alma’s eyes widened.

  ‘Wow, thanks!’ she said, taking it from him. ‘Can I open it now?’

  ‘Of course.’ He looked down to the side, rubbing his hand through his hair and making it messier than ever as Alma started to pull the string undone. Then she glanced at him and stopped.

  ‘Wait,’ she said, ‘let me give you your gift as well.’ Reaching into her backpack she brought out a small rectangular tin, dark blue and covered with gold stars, a red bow tied around it. Passing it to Caleb, she said, ‘Merry Christmas.’

  Caleb took it from her, his eyes crinkling as he smiled at her. ‘Thank you,’ he said, turning the tin around to look at it before undoing the bow. Opening the lid released the scent of spices and pastry and he inhaled with pleasure, looking at Alma with amazement.

  ‘Oh, I hope they’re OK,’ said Alma anxiously. ‘I made them today, so I hope you like them.’

  Caleb, already munching his way through one of the mince pies, nodded his appreciation, his blue eyes bright with enjoyment. Alma, pleased to see him enjoying her gift, turned her attention to her own. Pulling the string off and tucking it in her pocket, she opened the tissue to find a little notebook, bound in green leather with a tree embossed on the front cover and two leather ties to hold it closed.

  ‘Oh Caleb,’ she breathed. ‘This is beautiful. I love it. Oh, and I only gave you mince pies.’

  Caleb swallowed his mouthful of pie and brushed some crumbs from the front of his tunic before answering. ‘Are you kidding?’ he said. ‘You made these for me. It’s the most thoughtful gift I think I’ve ever had.’

  ‘Really?’ smiled Alma, while at the same time feeling a little sad for Caleb.

  ‘Really,’ echoed Caleb. He raised his eyebrows then, his expression teasing. ‘In fact, they almost make up for waiting in the woods half the morning for you.’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ she laughed. ‘Are you serious? I was that late?’ She placed her little book safely into her pack while Caleb closed his tin and tucked it under his arm, linking his other one with Alma’s as they started to walk towards the gardens.

  ‘We-ell’ said Caleb, regarding her affectionately as they walked, ‘you’re actually about an hour late – just a few seconds in your world can make a difference, I guess. Why couldn’t you have just stepped through anyway – does it matter if anyone sees you?’

  ‘Yes, actually, it does matter, silly,’ said Alma, playfully elbowing Caleb. ‘I can’t just disappear in front of people – they would have the papers and television there and the next thing you know, half the world would be trying to get through the Gate. Or they would think aliens had taken me, or s
omething. It would be a huge drama.’

  ‘Really?’ said Caleb, sounding unconvinced. ‘I bet stuff like that happens in your world all the time. Stuff that can’t be explained,’ he went on as they passed under an archway weighted with clematis, green leaves and feathery seeds trailing all around. ‘People just choose not to see it a lot of the time, I think. They explain it away as something else. I’ve heard the Elders talking about it, how so much Mystery has been lost from your world.’ The way he said the word ‘mystery’, as if it were something with material presence rather than just a simple noun, intrigued Alma.

  ‘What is this Mystery?’ she asked. ‘Is this what the Elders are always talking about, the force that governs us all? And no, stuff like that doesn’t happen all the time. I’ve never had anything like this happen to me before. Well, except…’ Alma stopped talking for a moment, thinking about the strange valley of her childhood.

  ‘No, Mystery is a part of it, that’s all, it’s-’ started Caleb, before he realised what Alma had said. He looked hard at her and she tried, unsuccessfully, to look innocent, but it was no good. Her expressive face, as always, gave her away.

  ‘Something happened to you!’ he exclaimed. ‘Something weird, something other than coming here, something in your own world. Come on, you can’t hide it from me. Tell me!’

  ‘No, it’s nothing,’ said Alma, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head. Damn. She knew Caleb wouldn’t let this go.

  ‘It is!’ cried Caleb. ‘I knew it – you must tell me!’

  They reached the Long Walk when Caleb suddenly pulled her onto a path twisting off to the left. ‘Hey!’ she protested, laughing at him and trying to pull away, until she realised where he had taken her. It was a small garden fragrant with herbs. Mint and rosemary scented the air in the sheltered space, where beds were laid out in a complex knot pattern edged by low stone walls. The high hedges blocked out any cool winds. Alma was instantly enchanted. She picked some of the fragrant leaves and held them to her nose, breathing in the mingled heady scents. Meanwhile, Caleb sat down on a bench near the hedge, patting the seat next to him with an expectant expression on his face. Alma smiled at him, shaking her head. ‘You’re not going to let this go, are you?’

  ‘Nope,’ replied Caleb, ‘so you might as well start talking.’ Realising she had no choice in the matter, Alma gave in and came to sit down next to him, pausing to sniff from her posy of herbs as she gathered her thoughts.

  ‘Well, I was ten years old, at the park near my house,’ she began, twirling the herbs in her fingers. ‘And, it was the weirdest thing. I mean, I know the park so well, but that day I found a valley.’

  ‘A valley?’ Caleb sounded intrigued and she half smiled at him before continuing.

  ‘Yeah. I mean, it shouldn’t have been there. It couldn’t have been there.’ She brought the herbs to her nose again, breathing their scent, her eyes distant as she thought about the strange events of the day.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, where I live, it’s all houses. And then the city. And the park is surrounded on all sides, so there was no way… It was just so strange. But it was exciting, you know?’ Caleb nodded. ‘So anyway, the valley was all pines, mist under the trees and a track running through the middle of the wood. I was about to run along it when I heard the scream.’

  ‘The scream?’ Caleb was agog as she went on, describing the atmosphere of menace, the piercing shriek that had so frightened her and the silver light she had seen beneath the trees that had sent her running away in panic. ‘Huh,’ he said, once she had finished. His eyebrows were raised and he leaned forwards, his hands clasped in front of him. ‘That is weird.’ He looked at Alma, his face bright with interest. ‘So, did you ever go back there? Find out what it was that screamed?

  ‘No,’ said Alma, shivering a little. Thinking about the valley always did that to her, made her feel a mix of fear and sadness, though she couldn’t really say why. ‘I mean, I went back later, when I felt ready, but, that was the strangest thing of all. It wasn’t there any more. No matter how I looked for it, I could never find it again.’

  ‘Really?’ Caleb’s face lit up with interest. ‘I told you things like that happen over there.’ His brow furrowed as he considered what she had told him. ‘Perhaps you should-’

  ‘-ask Thorion about it?’ smiled Alma, leaning on him for a moment as she finished the sentence for him. She felt strangely relieved to have shared her story – she had never told anyone before, not even Sara, but here in this place of magic and dreams she felt she could tell the truth about that day in the valley without fear of ridicule. ‘So you believe me?’ she went on, feeling relieved. ‘I mean, it was weird, wasn’t it? I kind of talked myself out of it for years, pretended it didn’t happen, but it did, didn’t it?’

  They looked up as Thorion entered the garden. Neither of them had heard him approach and they both stood up hastily, Caleb bowing and Alma nodding her head as usual. The King, clad in armour rather than his customary robes, had a strange expression on his face – a mixture of wonder and excitement, mixed with sorrow.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘I could not help but overhear your conversation. You are correct, Alma – what happened to you was real, very real. What you may not realise is how significant it is. Can you tell me please, how long ago this event took place in your world?’

  Alma cast her mind back ‘Well, I was ten,’ she said, ‘so about five years ago?’ It had been autumn, the leaves falling and the smell of smoke in the cool air. ‘In October, I think.’

  Thorion took in a sharp breath and closed his eyes, while Alma looked at Caleb, mystified by Thorion’s interest in her story and his reaction to her words. He shrugged his shoulders, equally confused.

  ‘So it was the Feast Day? Hallows Eve?’

  Caleb looked sharply at Thorion. ‘My Lord, do you mean?‘ But Thorion gestured to Caleb to be quiet for the moment, wanting to hear Alma’s answer.

  ‘Yes, I suppose it was,’ said Alma, thinking back. ‘I was supposed to go trick or treating later, but didn’t go in the end. Why, wh-what is going on?’

  Caleb and Thorion both stared at her, their shocked expressions identical, but it was Thorion who recovered first. Taking Alma’s hands, he gently led her to sit back down on the bench.

  ‘Alma I know, thanks to Caleb, that you have heard some of the story of Lord Gwion, who was sent into your lands on a secret errand. Here is the rest of it. He was entrusted with the last piece of the Regalia, the sacred Sword.’ Caleb gasped and Thorion glanced at him briefly before continuing. ‘He left on a Feast Day, a time of power, hoping it would help in his quest to hide the Sword in your realm until such time as the unrest between Light and Dark was… more balanced. It was our way of trying to preserve the last piece of the Regalia but it sadly backfired. Lord Gwion did not return and his fate, and that of the Sword, remained unknown.’

  ‘Until now,’ breathed Caleb, looking at Alma with something like awe.

  ‘Yes,’ smiled Thorion, ‘until now.’

  His blue eyes were warm as he looked at Alma and inwardly she sighed. Thorion was so handsome she found having all his attention focused on her, as it was now, completely distracting. Pulling herself together, she gave Thorion a wary look. ‘Do you mean…’

  ‘Yes,’ said Thorion. ‘I think you may have been witness to the last moments of Gwion, whatever they were, in your land. And that means that you are the only person in all the realms who can lead us to the Sword.’

  All was silent in the little garden, the high hedges blocking out much of the outside noise, so they seemed to be in a little bubble of their own. Alma and Caleb both gazed at Thorion, their eyes wide, but it was Caleb who spoke first.

  ‘So the prophecy is true!’ he said eagerly, looking at Alma. ‘You will lead us to the Sword, then find the other pieces of the Regalia and the Balance will be restored!’ He sounded so excited, his blue eyes shining as he looked from her to Thorion, Alma didn’t have the he
art to tell him she still wasn’t quite sure about all this. She wasn’t even sure where the valley was now. Then she realised something and her temper started to flare.

  ‘Why on earth did no one tell me about this before?’ she asked, her voice rising. ‘I mean, I’ve-’ she glanced at Caleb and hurriedly amended herself ‘-we’ve spent weeks in the library looking for clues about… all this,’ she said, waving her hands and trying to stay polite, ‘and the whole time you knew the Sword was in my world!’

  ‘Well, no, not exactly,’ said Thorion, raising his hands as though to defend himself against Alma’s sudden anger.

  ‘Well, why not exactly?’ she asked in an irritated tone. Folding her arms she sat back, eyes narrowed. Caleb gave her a nervous look.

  ‘Alma, when Gwion left here with the Sword he chose his own path through to your world. Not even I was privy to his route, for it was thought to be safest that way. Understand that this was a mission of highest secrecy, the last attempt by the Light to preserve the Sacred Regalia.’ Thorion looked at Alma intently and she nodded, glancing at Caleb who was listening to Thorion, his eyes wide. ‘From what you have just told Caleb, it seems Gwion chose to cross over using one of the Closed Gates – his powers as one of our highest ranking Elders should have given him sure passage but it sounds, from your story, as though he did not get far.’

  ‘But, didn’t anyone look for him? Didn’t you wonder?’ asked Alma, her brow furrowed.

  ‘Of course we did,’ said Thorion, ‘but it was some time before we realised he was not going to return and by then the trail was cold. It was a difficult time in our world and we did not wish to risk anyone else on what would most likely have been a fruitless mission to retrieve him.’

  ‘But I still don’t understand why no one said anything about this before,’ said Alma, her arms folded.

  Thorion looked troubled for a moment. ‘I understand your anger, Alma, and you are right – we should have told you before. I can only say that it is a… painful topic for us still,’ he said apologetically. ‘I think our hope was that you and Caleb would find some clue amongst the manuscripts, that the other pieces could be retrieved first. However, it now seems that you can lead us to the Sword after all.’