In a response that took some time to find her (though this could have of course been attributed to the fact that Heidi made use of a return address at a post far past the Lormar border, not wishing her sister to be aware of her exact location), Helena expressed a fervent wish for Heidi to come to her in Remás. And yet, Heidi stayed away for quite the same reason that she had not gone to begin with. Somehow, after having had Helena absent so long from her life, the ability to go to her seemed one that she did not possess. So she dropped a last note by post, what contained only one line; and that line read:
I cannot come to you. I should never have written you.
Helena wrote a single time in reply. Her own letter consisted of something more than one line, but was short enough in its coldness and displeasure, and related in no uncertain terms the exact way she felt about Heidi’s treatment of her. It was undeserved, she said; and indeed, Heidi was the one, if anyone, who should bear the brunt of any guilt that may have been required.
Angered greatly by this response, Heidi, of course, did not write back. She tore the letter into many pieces, and burnt them in a copper bowl she had taken some time earlier from the rubbish pile in Skyler’s shop. It had till then sat atop the desk with nothing in it, collecting dust – but she left those ashes inside it, and looked at them every day, to remind her of her own righteous anger. Eventually, though, on a night of great rain and wind, she opened the window of her room, and released the ashes into the storm.
And so her sister disappeared, just as her brother had. She was so very entangled in the perfect misery of what her life had become, she had not even the time to view said misery with seeing eyes. She was blind to the suffering, blind to the loneliness; and she toiled on and on, perhaps hoping somewhere in her heart of hearts, that she might simply die in the toiling.
It was on these thoughts she was fixated, after the brawl in the parlour. Jade was lying next to her still; but she had forgotten that she was there. When she came to herself, and felt her own hand clasped in Jade’s, she was quite surprised.
“Are you thinking of something so terrible?” asked Jade.
Heidi looked at her strangely, wondering what made her ask. “I am not thinking of anything,” she said.
“Of course you’re not! It must be for no reason, then, that that tear only just ran down your face.”
Heidi wiped at her cheek with her free hand, and found that it was indeed rather moist. Somewhat embarrassed, she tried to pull her hand from Jade’s; but Jade only clung to it more tightly.
“Don’t you have your own bed?” asked Heidi snappishly.
“It’s that one, I think?” said Jade, propping herself up on an elbow, and pointing to the bed against the opposite wall.
She made to rise from the bed – but just before she found her feet again, she leaned over Heidi, and placed a kiss upon her lips.
She went then to her bed, and fell into a deep sleep. Heidi could hear the steadiness of her breathing; and knew indeed that she was lost to the world of dreams. But Heidi lay awake long into the night, frowning at the ceiling and shivering beneath her blanket.
It seemed as though her lips were burning.
~
Heidi snapped awake, still clinging to the pillow. She could feel the trace that was left by the warm pressure against her lips; and reached immediately for Jade. But that side of the bed (a very large bed, she might add) was empty. She looked all about, and saw that the room was much too large, the windows much too tall.
Not the house on Bridgewater Street.
She lay back again, and held more tightly than ever to the pillow. She felt as if she were being swallowed by the castle; and that, if she did fall asleep again, she might never wake up.
XXXV: Preparations
The night, for all parties concerned, was passed in a relatively sleepless state – though, in all regards, Mr Redda is the only one who had sufficient physical reason for such a thing. After feeding Jade (who took to the meat with much more enthusiasm than he had expected), he confined himself to his chair to pass what remained of the night in observation of her. She herself, after a few minutes of obligatory hissing and snarling, leaned her head back against the door and fell asleep; but Redda continued to look upon her with both concern and amazement.
Quite naturally (and as had been described already), Heidi found it terribly difficult to rest, once she had returned to her chamber; and in fact did very little but lie with her face buried in Jade’s pillow, unable to think of much more at that moment but the very worst.
Lila’s restiveness, if it had consisted solely of Jade Misaria’s uncertain future, might have still allowed her to find at least some semblance of peace in dreams. And yet, just as she was falling asleep, and taking what comfort she could from the still-palpable shroud which hung about Eredor, there came a vision of a bright and prying eye which invaded the darkness. She snapped up in an instant, and looked all about the room; and was aware in that moment that the veil had been pierced.
She left her bed immediately, and went down to Thomas Henry’s office, in the corner of which was pushed up his comfortable-looking, but this night unused, little bed. Its sheets and covers were folded and tucked so precisely beneath the mattress, that once one had laid eyes upon them, it seemed as though it would be less of a production to simply sleep in the chair, and hence avoid having to reconstruct the perfect lines and folds of the blankets.
And yet, these thoughts were doubtful the ones upon the mind of the late-sitting Captain, what made him sit up so late in the first place. Lila saw the light from his candle in the crack beneath the door; knocked once, and entered the room upon his invitation.
“Good evening, Princess,” said he, scribbling away upon a sheet of paper which lay beneath his hand. He did not look up, but only jotted on.
“I am sorry to interrupt you,” said Lila. “I would not have, if I had not thought it necessary.”
He looked upon her now, with a grim smile and a dark eye. “I am quite sure that you wouldn’t have, Princess.”
She tried not to be troubled by the strange and terrible shadow which seemed to hang upon him; but found that she had a good deal of difficulty navigating around it. It was Henry whose optimism always buoyed her own cynicism and depression. It was he, who seemed always able to supply a right to her wrong.
So what was that black glint there in his eye, shining in the light of the candle like a warning of ill tidings?
“It seems,” said Lila, “that we have something a problem, Henry. I fear that a visit from the Sorceress is imminent.”
He seemed not in the least surprised, and did not bat so much as an eyelash, as he looked back down to the letter he was composing.
“How do you know this?” he asked simply.
“She has torn the veil meant to keep away her own evil eyes. Her will has grown stronger; and can only have done so for one reason.”
“Why not just give her the girl?”
Despite a lack of complete and instant understanding, Lila still managed to be taken aback. There was only one girl whom he could mean; though, of course, he had not been meant to know anything of her.
“Would you risk your own castle, and all of the lives inside it, for a wretched young woman?”
She looked upon him with a great amount of uncertainty.
He began to write again. “I am sending a letter to my wife,” he said absently. “She moved West, you know, after our son died. I have not spoken to her in a number of years; but I feel that ill things have come upon us, and that there is little time before they swallow us all up, like small mice into the stomach of a clever cat.”
Lila said nothing. She only watched him finish the letter, his hand looping and gliding finally down at the bottom of the paper, where he made his signature as a cap on the correspondence.
He looked up at Lila, then; and she was badly startled by his eyes, whose black glint had been replaced by a strange red glow. It shone like fire down in their depths, flic
kering and spitting its cracks of heat towards the place where Lila stood. She began to back away, but he only smiled in a way that she had never seen him do before; and without waiting to see if he would rise to follow her, she hurried from the room, and locked him inside it.
~
As it was very early when Lila left her own chamber, it was still some hours before any of the others in the castle began to rise. The soldiers woke first, all floors rising at once, beginning with the first floor, where dwelt the heads of the First Regiment – and Thomas Henry, who was, of course, in currently a rather unhelpful state. Then there was the second floor, on which lived the elite of the Second Regiment (as well as Mr Tobias Redda, and all of the twelve Elders); then the third, in like pattern. On the fourth floor, there were currently lodged only Eredor’s two visitors, and the Queen. The fourth floor had always been the place, for some reason or other, of both the Queen and the King (though it might be noted that, for most of their children’s lives, their chambers had been not one and the same, but only adjoining ones); and for that reason no officer or servant had ever slept there. The high officers of the Fourth Regiment slept on the fifth floor; and the sixth (which, as you know, was also the resting place of both the Princess and the Prince), seventh and eighth floors were home to the servants, who had after so many years grown quite accustomed to climbing so many stairs each night. There was only old Bruce, who was the Queen’s personal cook, and who had suffered from a heart condition for some seven or eight years, who slept down on the first floor; along with another elderly servant named Ursa, who was grown so old and feeble, that none with any sort of heart at all would have been able to watch her labour up so many steps. Truthfully, she did not perform much actual work anymore – but it was a common belief that she had single-handedly kept the entire castle running for some fifty years previous, and was well-entitled to something of a retirement.
So it was up with soldiers, who dressed themselves neatly in their uniforms, and then descended the stairs to meet the rest of their ranks, who were streaming steadily in from the barracks through the South Door of the castle, and into the Army’s dining hall. At this time, it was only the cooks who were awake, to prepare breakfast for the soldiers. After the soldiers came the rest of the servants, coming higgledy-piggledy in any order and assortment down the stairs; sometimes alone, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in groups; and heading in an easy fashion towards their respective destinations.
The Elders heeded no specific time as that of their rising, but went afoot from their beds at whatever hour they happened to wake. It was only Samson Trippe and Silas Perco who rose in any manner of a schedule, and joined together for breakfast, after which they would usually look about for the Princess, to talk with her of any number of things which had to do with the well-being of the castle.
Especially since having ceased to frequent the Rally Room for meetings with the Princess (due mainly to their own chauvinistic pride concerning her policies), the remaining Elders had a tendency to remain in bed all day long – especially old Raymond Archer, who complained nearly daily of some sort of ailment or other. These were all except Jonathan Payton, of course, who took it full upon himself to spread his own doctrine of “anti-Lila-Bier-and-all-that-dratted-magic” throughout the city in various ways, and throughout the Army of Eredor as he found possible (which was in truly a rather more significant way that many would have liked to believe). Valiant men like Harn Fala and Yuvi Flay (the latter of which was perhaps not so valiant as dedicated) did their best to counteract the teachings of Payton; but they were sometimes at a loss to undo them, and simply had to turn their attention to improving what things they were able.
And that morning, of course, Mr Tobias Redda was up before all of them, as he had never gone to sleep in the first place. He watched Jade sleep, and he watched her wake; and he smiled brilliantly, when she looked up at him and said:
“I’m not sure who you are, mister; but you had better get over here and unlock me, or I shall rip out your throat when I’m able.”
“Oh, of course, dear,” said he, removing a key from his pocket with which he unbolted her from the door handle. He marvelled at her rapid return to her own self, and paid no attention at all to the threat which she had really and truly intended to follow through upon.
“Are you hungry, my dear?” he asked.
Jade only looked at him suspiciously. “First I would like to know what I am doing in your room, old man.”
He only laughed heartily, and said, “I do promise you, dear girl – everything will be explained in good time. But first, why not have a bite to eat? I daresay it will do you a world of good.”
“Well – all right,” she said, putting a hand to her stomach as it began to growl. “Bring me Heidi first.”
The medicine man was staring at her with such delight (and having indeed forgotten to speak for all his cheerfulness), that she eventually asked, “Do you know who that is?”
“Of course, my dear. You just sit right there, and I’ll fetch her for you.”
“But who are you?” she asked. Yet het words were lost on him; for he was already out the door, and on his way to the staircase.
Now, some may think it somewhat irresponsible of Mr Redda, to have left Jade all alone in that room – especially considering what had happened the night before. But he was so very certain of her return to normalcy (at least in that moment), that he felt no fear whatever at leaving her there. So up he went to the fourth floor, where he attended to the door upon which a piece of paper was still nailed, and upon which a bloody symbol was still marked. He knocked loudly, in case Heidi was sleeping deeply; and smiled brightly at her, when she swung open the door.
“Good morning, Miss Bastian!” he chirped.
“For whom?” asked the young woman, much sardonically and much sorrowfully. (At any other time, it might have been considered a great difficulty to make an effective combination of the two; but she attempted, and managed the feat, quite seamlessly.)
“For us all, my dear girl!” exclaimed the old man. “Come with me, and you shall see.”
Greatly heartened by these words, Heidi left her room without another word, and followed the medicine man down the steps, and down the hall to his own set of chambers. In they walked, and to the table they went, where Jade was sitting looking much tired, hunched and pale in her solitary position.
“Jade!” cried Heidi.
Jade, who had not heard them enter the room, looked up with eyes wide and bright; leapt from her chair, and threw her arms round the young woman who had come to call on her, whose own eye was somewhat dark with exhaustion, and whose fair hair was somewhat untidy from a night of tossing; but who returned her embrace with such fervour, that even the medicine man suffered that moment from a few trickling tears behind his spectacles.
And so the two women sat down at the table, clutching each other’s hands and speaking together in quick, soft voices, while the medicine man left the room once again, this time in search of breakfast. Usually, he would only have waited for his own to be delivered – but he much doubted that the contents of the tray would suffice for three hungry persons.
~
After bolting the door to Thomas Henry’s office, Lila turned away from it, and pressed her back against the wall. Such was her feeling of helplessness that she sank down to the floor, face in her hands and knees under her chin. She was very grateful, afterwards, that no one passed by in that moment; but at the time she felt so alone and uncertain, that she could not think of much else to do but that. When she finally lifted her face again, and wiped the bewilderment from her tired eyes, and put it to herself to set aside Henry’s strangeness until a later time, she saw it again: a single, shining eye, hovering there above the floor! She struck out with an arm, but the eye had vanished before she cut the air; and she only managed to slam her own hand down upon the stone, and to set a painful throbbing sensation running all through it.
“Confound it all!” she shouted, jumping
to her feet. She turned and beat her better hand against the wall; and then moved to the door of Henry’s office, and beat upon that for a few moments. “You shall stay in there till I come for you!” she shouted, pounding once more for effect. Then she set off down the corridor, and made her way slowly to her own chamber, where she would tidy herself up at least well enough so that the leaders of her Army might not think her a complete madwoman.
Though, for some of them (through no fault of her own, but rather due to the disgusting ravings practised by Jonathan Payton) the notion was already quite unalterable.
~
As all of these manner of events were taking place within Eredor, the mood at Grénha was infinitely more heated. The Sorceress had already warned the Narken of their coming mission, and they were readying themselves for it in all respect of ridiculous things. They charged one another down in the halls; they placed bets on fights between the largest of their kind, but never quite managed a fair fight, as any and all of them would usually end up leaping into the ring before the end of it.
After all, you know – they were only wild animals.
Perhaps the most popular training exercise was drawing prisoners forth from the cells down below, and pretending that they were soldiers of Eredor. These prisoners they would order to fight back as well as they could (which was, of course, never very well at all), swipe at them several times with their claws, and then simply take them up by the ankles and drop them, quite whole-bodied, down their throats. They would laugh as the prisoners, still alive for the moment, beat their weak fists against the insides of their stomachs; but would then go about their other business and forget they were there entirely, until the acid of their bellies took hold of the prisoners and elicited all sorts of terrible screaming from them.
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