Oak And Mist (The Ambeth Chronicles Book 1) (11 page)

BOOK: Oak And Mist (The Ambeth Chronicles Book 1)
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As they entered a woman got up from a large desk on the other side of the room. Full figured, dressed in a simple dark grey top and skirt, she was quite unlike anyone Alma had seen in Ambeth so far. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled back from her lined, smiling face and, as she came closer, Alma could see embroidery around the sleeves and collar of her top.

‘Welcome, welcome, Master Caleb,’ she said as she came towards them. ‘And this is the Child of the Prophecy?’ Alma screwed up her face at this, then remembered herself and smiled as Caleb introduced her.

‘Just Alma is fine,’ she said, holding out her hand.

‘Welcome to you as well, dear Alma,’ the woman said, taking Alma’s outstretched hand in both of hers and squeezing before letting go. ‘I am the Librarian.’ The way she spoke it was clear this was more than just a title. ‘This way, if you please. I’ve found quite a few things already that I think will be useful, though I think you may want to start with this.’

As she spoke she started towards the back of the room, where more rows of shelves were weighed down with books and paper scrolls. Alma glanced at Caleb and he winked at her. She grinned, his excitement contagious. They followed the Librarian across the room, Alma’s shoes sinking into the rich soft rugs. The Librarian had retrieved a large scroll from one of the shelves, which she presented to Caleb.

‘Here it is. I only found it the other day. It’s quite old, I think, but very useful.’ Her brown eyes twinkled at them both as Caleb took the scroll from her. ‘Now, come over here. I’ve reserved a nice big table for you so you can work in peace.’ She shot a glance around the room at the other occupants. Alma looked around too. Several of the desks were occupied by older men, each with a pile of books and a pad of paper. All of them were writing furiously, though one or two lifted their heads to look over. Alma smiled uncertainly, feeling shy under their stares. Meanwhile, the Librarian helped Caleb to unroll the scroll on top of a large wooden table, its surface pitted and marked with years of use. Caleb placed paperweights at the corners and beckoned to Alma. His face was glowing with eagerness.

‘Look at this!’

Alma came over and had a look. ‘Wow!’

‘Well, I’ll just leave you to it,’ said the Librarian, turning to go. ‘Please do ask if you need anything else.’

‘Thanks,’ said Alma, her attention taken by the images on the scroll in front of her. They were beautifully done, pen and ink drawings touched with light washes of colour. A Sword, a Cup and a Crown.

‘Are these…? Is this…?’ She reached out to touch the paper gently, her finger lingering on the curving lines of the Cup. Her voice was quiet, reverent and Caleb moved closer to her, his blonde head bent over the page.

‘Yes. This is the Regalia. I remember the Sword, at least.’

Alma licked her lips then swallowed as she took in the straight smooth blade, the twisting lines of the hilt. There was an answering twist in her stomach, similar to how she had felt in the Great Hall as she stood before the alcove. It was as if the pieces spoke to her, somehow. She became very conscious of the air around her, the way her feet were on the floor, the warmth of Caleb’s arm as he leaned against her. It was as though everything was perfectly poised in that moment, as though she stood at the beginning of something wonderful and terrible, all at the same time.

‘Um, so, good.’ Her voice was a whisper and she cleared her throat, wanting to break the spell that seemed to be weaving around her. ‘I mean, it’s good we know what to look for, at least.’

Caleb nodded. He seemed equally mesmerised. ‘It’s pretty exciting, isn’t it? I mean, if we can find them…’ His voice was quiet and she looked at him, leaning into him a little.

‘Hey, you never know, right?’ He turned his head and smiled at her.

‘Yeah. You never know.’ Realising how close he was to her, Alma wondered at how she’d felt before, the uncomfortable moment in her room where she’d thought he might be interested in her. But, as he leaned forward again to study the document, all she could feel from him was friendship, pure and simple, no trace of awkwardness. Which was fine, she thought. A friend was just what she wanted Caleb to be.

There was writing on the page. Caleb ran his finger along the text under the Sword, reading the words as he went, his voice pitched low:

 

‘A Sword, A Cup, A Crown -

All hearts shall hold them pure.

Heart’s love the Sword will lay down,

To rest in blood secure;

Heart betrayed the Cup will take,

Returned to an ancient home;

Cold heart the Crown shall stake,

For death before it is done.’

 

‘It’s a Seer’s document,’ he said when he’d finished, pointing to a small seal at the lower left-hand corner of the page. It was an impression in wax of an island in a wavy sea, three stars above it.

‘What does that mean?’

‘The Seers live on an island not far off shore,’ said Caleb. ‘They used to come here quite often, apparently, but the last time was when the Sword was lost. They were the ones who wrote the Prophecy in the Great Hall, you know, the one on the wall?’

Alma’s mouth tightened briefly. Yeah, she knew it. The one about her and all the marvellous things she was supposed to do. And here was another load of riddles that she was supposed to solve. Well, they didn’t mention red hair, at least.

‘So what’s this? Another prophecy? Hey, maybe if we keep looking we’ll find another one that says someone completely different from me is actually going to find this stuff.’ She eyed Caleb hopefully but he frowned at her.

‘Alma, it has to be you. You were here on the right day, at the right time, in the right place. Just like the skylore said.’

‘The skylore?’ Alma folded her arms and glared at Caleb. All at once she was tired. Tired of studying, tired of prophecies and tired in general. But Caleb had turned his attention back to the scroll, missing her pointed stare.

‘Yes,’ he said, studying the text again. ‘The Light watch the stars, read the patterns there. That’s how they knew you were coming the other day.’

Ooh. Alma’s glare intensified. Then she calmed down, her mouth twisting. It wasn’t Caleb’s fault. None of this was. And he was trying so hard to help her. And… she needed him, she realised. She missed him, when she was in her own world. But right now she was so tired she just wanted to go home.

‘Hey, Caleb?’ He looked up. ‘Um, I think I need to go home now.’ His lips pressed together for a second, then he nodded, his eyes sliding towards grey. ‘I’m sorry-’ Alma started, but he stopped her.

‘No, it’s fine. I get it.’ He smiled at her, and she could see he was trying to understand. He was so lovely. In some ways she wished she could like him as more than a friend.

‘I’m just so tired, you know. It’s already late for me when I come here, and then after this morning and now all this I just… think I need to go. Go home and think about it all.’ She stopped, frowning. The way his shoulders had dropped it was obvious he was still disappointed, so she added. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise.’

His face lit up at her last statement, his eyes returning to blue. ‘Really? Because I can look at some more of this stuff, then we can come back here.’

‘Or we could go for a walk and you could show me more of the gardens,’ she countered, challenging him. He laughed.

‘You’re right. I suppose it doesn’t have to be study all the time. But can I just-’

‘Yes, you can. Tell me all. While we’re in the gardens tomorrow. Preferably relaxing somewhere.’ She gave him a mischievous grin and he mock groaned at her.

‘Fine. Relaxing tomorrow. I’ll just put this back.’ Carefully he rolled the scroll, going to put it back on its shelf, then came back and took Alma’s arm. ‘Come on, let’s go to the Gate, sleepyhead.’

‘Hey! Unfair,’ said Alma, but she let him lead her towards the door, glad to be back to their usual teasing ways. He called to the Librarian as they left, ‘I’ll be back soon!’ She looked up and nodded, waving her pen at them both in farewell.

 

***

Sara checked her phone for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Where was Alma? They were supposed to be meeting up to go out, so when her mother said she had gone to the park instead, Sara decided to go look for her there. But now she was sitting alone in one of the cafes, a half eaten bowl of fries growing cold on the table in front of her, wondering what to do next. The autumn nights were closing in and it was starting to get dark. Sara wondered what on earth Alma was doing here. Was she meeting that mysterious boy? Sitting bolt upright at the thought, Sara decided to do one more circuit. She picked up her bag and left the café, pulling her jacket around her against the chill air as she headed across the park towards Alma’s favourite bench. Up ahead, she saw what looked like a familiar figure stumble out from the trees. Starting to run, she shouted her friend’s name, seeing the long red hair as she got closer.

‘Alma!’ she shouted again, and this time the figure turned its head. Out of breath, Sara finally caught up to Alma, who staggered a little as she drew near. ‘Are you all right?’ puffed Sara, concerned as she reached out to steady her friend.

‘Wha-what?’ faltered Alma, who was still recovering from passing through the Gate. She bent forward, hands on her knees as she fought to regain her balance. Sara regarded Alma curiously, frowning as she took in her shortness of breath and slightly dishevelled appearance.

‘What on earth have you been doing?’

Alma just looked at her for a moment, completely at a loss. Straightening up, she took a deep breath and said the first thing that came to her. ‘Running. Erm, I’ve been running. In the woods, you know,’ she said, waving her hand at the mass of trees, still breathing hard.

‘Why would you do that?’ said Sara, mystified. ‘And don’t you have your phone? I’ve been trying to get you for ages.’

Reaching into her pocket, Alma bought out her phone, which was starting to beep with all the delayed texts and messages from Sara. Blowing out a breath, she looked back at her friend, hating herself for lying to her again.

‘Well, I had it turned off. Didn’t want to be disturbed. I’ve only just turned it back on again. Sorry…’ she trailed off lamely.

Sara looked at her, a suspicious expression on her face. ‘Were you with that guy?’ she said, her tone mildly accusing.

‘Wh-what guy?’ said Alma, taken aback for a moment. Seeing Sara’s face she realised what she meant and rapidly recovered. ‘Oh, you mean the guy I-’

‘Yeah,’ said Sara, her eyes narrowed. ‘The guy you like? The family friend you won’t talk about and haven’t introduced me to? Is that who you were with?’ Sara folded her arms, starting to look angry.

Alma hung her head, shamefaced. ‘Yes,’ she said finally, her blue eyes meeting Sara’s brown ones, registering the hurt in them. ‘Yes, I was with him and I’m sorry. It’s just, he likes to spend time with me alone, that’s all.’

‘Running?’ said Sara, highly sceptical, her eyebrows raised.

Alma decided her only chance was to go along with the lie. ‘Well, you know, and other stuff,’ she said, blushing a little. For once her propensity to redden at any moment was actually useful. Sara’s eyes widened.

‘Like what?’ she said, her expression softening. Anything to do with the opposite sex was exciting to Sara and Alma hated herself for playing on that fact. Still, what could she do? She couldn’t exactly say where she had been.

‘Well, come over to mine now, and I’ll tell you more, I promise,’ she said, looking hopefully at Sara.

‘But it’s Saturday night,’ she said. ‘Aren’t we going out still?’

Alma’s face fell. She just wanted to go home, put on her pyjamas and curl up in front of the TV. However, the look on Sara’s face and the fact she was wearing her new jacket meant that was obviously not an option. Sighing a little, Alma summoned up what was left of her energy, feigning an excitement she didn’t feel.

‘Well, sure,’ she said, ‘there’s that new pizza place. We could go there, I guess. I just need to go home and get changed first.’

‘Oh, and I hear the waiters are cute,’ said Sara, suddenly excited. Linking her arm in Alma’s, she said, ‘Let’s go then, running girl. And, you can start by telling me this mysterious guy’s name.’

Alma smiled weakly as she fell into step beside her friend, her mind working frantically. Dreading the night ahead, she smiled brightly at Sara nonetheless. ‘OK,’ she said, ‘let’s go. And, it’s, um, De-David,’ she said, making a face at yet another lie. ‘His name is David.’

All Hearts

Friday afternoon and Alma was finally home from school. She ran in and headed through to the kitchen at the back of the house, almost colliding with Aidan on her way through the door. ‘Hey!’ he said, very nearly spilling his milk.

But Alma ignored him, dropping her bag and opening cupboards, searching for something to eat. Eleanor, sitting at the table, watched with amusement as she whirled around the kitchen.

‘Do you want tea, Mum?’ asked Alma, buzzing with excitement. The weekend was here, and that meant another trip to Ambeth. She could hardly wait to bolt down her snack and head to the park. She sliced two pieces of bread and poured the boiling water into her cup, narrowly avoiding knocking over the sugar in her haste.

‘No thank you, Alma, I’ve just had one,’ smiled Eleanor, watching her daughter bustle around. ‘So, what’s the big rush?’

‘Oh!’ Alma stopped stirring her tea and turned to her mother. ‘Oh, nothing, really,’ she said, trying to look innocent. ‘I mean, I’m going out later with Sara but first I’m going to the park, you know, before dinner?’ She turned back to her sandwich, spreading the bread with mayo before loading it with cheese and salad and slicing it in two.

‘What, again?’ said Eleanor, mystified. ‘That’s the third time in a week. What’s so special about the park these days?’

‘Mmmph, nothing,’ said Alma, around a mouthful of sandwich, trying to avoid her mother’s eye. ‘You know, I’m just doing more exercise these days, I guess.’

‘Really?’ said Eleanor, one eyebrow arched. Alma had never been a sporty type, so this sudden interest in exercise was unusual, to say the least. Then she realised. Of course, it had to be a boy. Smiling, she looked at her daughter, red hair in disarray as she munched her sandwich between gulps of tea.

‘Well, take it easy,’ she said, ‘you’ll get indigestion if you eat like that.’

Alma rolled her eyes. ‘Fine, Mum,’ she said, finishing the last of her sandwich. ‘Just going to get changed.’ She left the room, taking her tea with her, and a moment later Eleanor heard the thump of her feet on the stairs and the creaking of the floorboards overhead. She smiled again. It was about time, she supposed. Getting up, she drained the last of her tea and rinsed the cup before starting to tidy the mess Alma had left behind.

***

Caleb walked over to the shelf full of scrolls, carefully lifting one and bringing it back to the table. He blew a fine layer of dust from it and Alma waved her hand in front of her, crinkling her nose as she tried not to sneeze.

‘What’s that?’ she asked.

‘A map of Ambeth. You know, these are some of the oldest records we have.’ He sounded so interested Alma couldn’t help but smile despite her itchy nose. As Caleb gently unrolled the map across the scored and marked surface of the ancient wooden table she took in a breath.

‘Wow.’

The map was a thing of beauty, drawn in ink and richly coloured, with gold leaf picking out places of interest. The sunlight coming through the tall arched windows made the gold leaf shimmer, dust motes dancing in the air. Placing paperweights at the corners, Alma studied the map carefully. Small golden stars along the far left border and at other places on the map marked what Alma thought must be Gates to the human world, with one just where the Oak Gate would be, at the end of the path through the wood. Blue sea shimmered to the right, dotted with small islands in greens and purples. Tall mountains spread to the top of the page, castle-shaped dwellings carefully drawn at intervals through the rolling valleys and ridges, while woods ran down the left of the page and across the bottom. Looking closer, she spotted the Palace, beautifully rendered in gold and pearly white, the gardens spreading all around. There was the Long Walk and the winding path across the meadow, while the human village was represented with a tiny cluster of stone dwellings, complete down to the miniature roses on their pale walls.

A large building to the rear of the Hall caught her attention – she had noticed it on one of her last visits but had thought it an extension to the vast stable blocks. However, it was clear from the map that it was separate. Pointing to it, careful not to touch the delicate paint with her finger, she said, ‘What is that place?’

Caleb looked where she was pointing. ‘That’s where many of the Court keep their apartments. You know, to stay in when they are here.’

‘So, they don’t all live in the Palace?’ asked Alma, surprised. She had just assumed, seeing the row of doors near her own room, that they all had apartments there.

‘No,’ said Caleb, smiling a little. ‘Many of them keep estates in the hills and valleys beyond, both Dark and Light. It’s where much of our food comes from.’ He indicated the castle-like structures dotted through the top portion of the map. ‘They spend most of their time there, just coming here for special occasions and when Thorion calls Council together. So this building was made for them to have somewhere to stay, there being not enough room here to accommodate them and their entourages.’

‘Entourages?’ asked Alma, raising an eyebrow. This all sounded a bit fancy.

Caleb laughed. ‘Yes, you know, servants, messengers, grooms and so on – some of the Lords are very particular about who looks after them.’

‘And these servants are usually…’

‘Human,’ said Caleb. ‘Yes, mostly from the village.’ Seeing Alma screw up her face, he asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Oh, well, it all seems a bit… separate from all this talk of high purpose and guarding the great life force. I mean, what did they do before humans came along?’

‘Er, I don’t know,’ said Caleb. ‘I guess it’s been this way for so long we don’t even think about it anymore.’

‘Huh,’ said Alma. ‘Guess your great Lords are more like humans than they think.’ She smiled then, not wanting to give offence, but she could see Caleb was perplexed. Changing the subject, she pointed to the gleaming islands dotting the blue seas. ‘And what about these islands?’ she asked. ‘Does anyone live there?’

‘There are rumours,’ Caleb began, his blue eyes bright as he looked at Alma, ‘of people dwelling on those islands, but no one has ventured to see them for many years. I believe one of them is home to some sort of spiritual order, an off-shoot of your own world. And of course there is the Island of the Seers,’ he went on, pointing to a small island just offshore. ‘You remember I told you about them, the other day. But as to the rest of them, I don’t really know.’

‘Okay.’ Alma nodded, her hand tracing the small shapes on the map without touching the paper. ‘And is there anything further out? Say, beyond the sea? Or the forest, even? I mean, it can’t be the end of your world.’

Caleb shook his head, looking perplexed. ‘I suppose,’ he said. ‘I’ve never really thought about it. It would be a good question to-‘

‘Ask Thorion?’ said Alma, grinning and giving him a nudge. She knew Caleb was in awe of the High King. ‘So, the Regalia could be out there somewhere for all we know.’

Caleb’s expression changed from thoughtful to surprised. ‘Well, I suppose that’s true.’

Sighing, Alma twisted her mouth as she looked at the map. ‘Basically, we have no idea where to look,’ she said. ‘I still don’t know why I’m the one who’s supposed to find it – I keep waiting for some sort of revelation, some piece of information that will lead us to one of the pieces, but instead all we seem to be coming up with is more questions.’

Caleb looked at her, his own face serious for a moment. Then he brightened. ‘Well, there’s some more scrolls we can look through. The librarian sorted them out for us the other day. You never know, the clue could be in there.’ Then, seeing the doubt in Alma’s face, he said, ‘I believe in you, Alma. I believe you are the one to do this for us.’

His expression was so earnest that Alma couldn’t bring herself to say anything to burst his bubble, though the thought of poring over musty old scrolls for the next few hours really didn’t appeal to her. So she just smiled at Caleb. ‘Thank you – that means a lot.’

Gently removing the paperweights from the map, she rolled it up carefully and placed it to one side. ‘So, let’s get started,’ she said. ‘But will you promise me something?’

‘Anything,’ said Caleb.

Alma smiled at his suddenly nervous expression. ‘Can we do something fun later, please?’

***

After meeting with the Elders Alma left the Great Hall to find Caleb waiting for her in the Foyer, a mysterious bundle in his hands. She was about to ask him what it was but he shushed her. ‘No questions please, Lady Alma. Fun awaits, as promised.’

Grinning widely, Alma followed him out through the double doors into bright sunshine, saying with a flourish, ‘Lead on, Sir Caleb.’

Caleb smiled broadly, slinging the bundle onto his back, and headed towards the Long Walk. But instead of turning towards the woods he went the other way, the sea glimmering blue ahead.

‘Are we going to the beach?’ Alma asked, falling into step beside him.

Caleb looked at her. ‘No questions please – ow!’ Alma mock-punched him in the arm. Laughing, he put his hands up as though to defend himself. ‘Okay, okay, yes, we are going to the beach.’

‘Yay!’ said Alma, dancing with excitement. As they neared the end of the Long Walk she saw rolling green meadows stretching to the edge of a low cliff. Colourful wildflowers bobbed in the fresh breeze that blew towards them, bringing with it the smell of the sea. They made their way carefully through the pastures, avoiding the sheep that baaed as they approached the edge of the cliff.

‘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.’

BOOK: Oak And Mist (The Ambeth Chronicles Book 1)
12.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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