Authors: Charlotte McConaghy
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction/Science Fiction Fantasy Magic
Eben looked about cautiously for more sabre-tooths. After a week and a day of swift riding, they had encountered two separate packs of sabre-tooths. They had despatched the beasts, and were now about to enter the Elvish lands.
Silven took a deep breath and sighed with pleasure. “Smells like home, cousin,” he said in Elvish.
“We have been away too long,” Eben replied heavily.
“Eben, we had to go. The humans needed us and despite what your mother says, we need them. They grow in number. We need to make alliances, or we shall disappear along with our ancestors.”
Silven knew that Eben was torn between what he knew was right and what his mother had told him. Whenever he could, he tried to reassure Eben that they were doing the right thing. He didn’t want anarchy—they all treasured their queen. But she had old-fashioned views. And survival, for the Elves, would mean change.
“I know this,” Eben sighed.
The two Elves looked ahead and rode on in silence. They sat high on their horses, for all of their race stood a head or so taller than the tallest of men. They were indescribably graceful, their fluid elegance something that had awed the people of Sitadel on their recent visit to the capital city. Eben and Silven, the two princes of the ancient race of immortals had ridden, against the wishes of their queen, to meet with the King of Lapis Matyr in order to negotiate a treaty. A treaty in a time of looming threats. With the country of Lapis Matyr under the rule of an unstable tyrant, and in such unsteady turmoil, there had been an understanding that if the need ever arose, humans and Elves would work together. They would fight together.
Eben’s mother disagreed. She felt that Elves should not involve themselves with any human matters. The races were separate, and always would be.
Eben and Silven, the two eldest princes of the Elves, came finally to the edge of their land. They slowed their horses with soft, musical words. They wore their long white hair tied at the nape of their necks, and their riding garb was woven with fabric that looked like rippling water as it moved over their bodies.
As they rode from the country of Cynis Witron and into the Elvish lands, a huge white shape loomed on the horizon. As they drew nearer, a gigantic castle that sparkled in the sun came into focus.
The ice castle of the Elves: an entire city made from ice, glimmering in the sun.
All around them tiny, glowing creatures with delicate, gossamer wings flew through the air, but the Elves paid the pixies no heed.
The castle in the middle of the city had a set of ice steps leading up from the ice street. It was not at all slippery. They entered the castle but did not feel the chill, immune to the cold as they were. The city was not completely transparent, because the ice was so thick.
This was where the Elf queen lived with the royal family.
Then she appeared, walking barefoot down the steps to meet them. Liensenne, the longest-standing ruler of the Elves.
“Hello, my darlings,” she spoke to her son and nephew in Elvish, embracing them gently.
“Mother,” Eben responded warmly.
“Come inside. We have things to discuss,” she murmured and led the way.
They glanced at each other as they followed her inside. Sitting down at a round ice table, the queen laced her fingers together daintily and looked at the two Elves expectantly.
“We could not get through to Lapis Matyr—his position is hostile, but we have an understanding with Cornelius,” Silven said. “If Leostrial decides to wage war against Cynis Witron we will lend our help.”
The queen remained silent.
“We know it is not your wish,” the younger Elf continued. “But we believe it is best.”
“And you feel you have a say in that matter?” she asked softly.
He faltered. “I know we do.”
“You have directly disobeyed me.” Her eyes flashed dangerously. “You have gone against your queen. You have betrayed your people.”
“We have betrayed no one!” Eben rose to his feet. “The four princes of the Elves have a say in all matters which concern our kind. Do not pretend otherwise.”
“There are no longer four princes,” the queen murmured, and the room fell silent. There was too much in such a statement, too much sadness, too much loss.
“And fighting like this only sullies his name,” Eben whispered.
Tension filled the air as the two Elves waited to see how the queen would respond.
“He has no name to sully,” she murmured. “Not after what he did.”
Anna opened her eyes to see a man clothed all in grey looking intently down at her.
“Close your eyes and go back to sleep, my dear.” He spoke so gently that she obeyed, feeling relief as sleep swept over her again.
She drifted in and out of consciousness over the next couple of days. The pain in her chest and leg was terrible, but she felt a healing taking place. The sadness she had been feeling over the last few months and hiding from her friends had started to slowly lift from her heart. Maybe, maybe ... it would be different here?
When she finally awoke, Luca was sitting with his head rested on the side of her bed, sleeping lightly. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was pale. She peered around and saw that she was in a stone room with a window. This was not her house. She wasn’t in a hospital. Where was she?
Anna began to panic. Her troubled breathing woke Luca, and he laid a hand on her head.
“Samshon!” he called out and smoothed her hair. “Anna, Anna, it’s okay, you’re safe,” he said softly.
“Where are we?” she wheezed.
“We’re in another world, we crossed over—above the cliff—remember?”
“Where are the others?” she asked.
“That I don’t know,” said Luca. “Not yet.”
And then she remembered. Anna’s breathing slowed and she slumped back onto her pillows. “It actually worked. This is incredible. We made it through.” And then she remembered something else, and groaned.
“What? What’s wrong? Are you still hurt? I thought Samshon had healed you.”
“No, no, Luca, I’m fine. I just remembered something, that’s all. Is Samshon the old man in white? Was he the one that healed me? I need to talk to him.” Anna struggled to get out of bed, but Luca stopped her.
“No way, Anna. You almost died. Just stay there and I’ll get him for you.”
“There is no need, I am here,” Samshon entered the room. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, but I need to talk to you about something.” She threw a guilty look in the Luca’s direction, then continued in a hurry. “When you were healing me, did you find out anything about ... any other ailments?”
The man’s face softened in sorrow. “If you are talking about the growth in your chest, then I am sorry, but I could not extinguish it. I have never seen anything like it,” Samshon said quietly.
Anna’s face fell slightly and she grasped Luca’s hand in comfort.
“The failure of healing a patient,” the man continued, “is a sorrow I hold very close to my heart. It pains me greatly that I cannot heal this for you.”
“Of course you could not heal it,” she said quietly. “I could not expect that. The doctors have said I may have a few years if I’m strong.” She paused for a moment and then said, in a determined voice, “And I am strong.”
“I am sorry,” Samshon said again.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to go for a walk,” said Anna.
“You can’t be out of bed!” said Luca, his voice sounding strange even to his own ears.
Samshon shrugged. “It is up to you Anna. If you feel well enough to walk, then walk. The growth shows no signs of affecting you yet. I daresay it will not be until the end of your time that you start to feel the illness,” he said sorrowfully, and then left them alone.
Without a word, Luca showed Anna around the vast palace of Amalia. The wide expanse of garden was supposedly the most celebrated in the world of Paragor. The dining halls and the kitchens were both huge, as the Amalian palace was home to many noblemen and women, servants and the royal family. The sewing rooms were full of ladies-in-waiting, people in the stables and the armoury went about their daily business—shoeing, grooming and feeding horses, sharpening weapons, fitting armour and practising swordplay. The food cellars were vast, as were the wash-rooms.
“Where are the showers?” Anna asked when they stood amongst the rows and rows of wooden tubs.
“Just baths,” Luca told her. “And the water has to be heated on the stove if you want it to be hot.”
Anna stared at him with an expression of such disappointment that he couldn’t help but smile.
“Can we go outside the palace and look at the city?” she asked.
“We’re not allowed.”
“Why?”
Luca shrugged. “Gaddemar says it isn’t safe for Strangers to be on the streets. People would go crazy with excitement if they knew we were here. It’s probably best that we do as he says for now.”
After the tour, they went back to the gardens and found a bench to sit on. The garden was unlike anything on Earth—there were hedge mazes and rose bushes that grew three storeys high. In some parts it was impossible to see the sky because there were so many trees with flowers and buds in all the colours you could name. But the pair paid little attention to the beauty before them.
“There’s another reason the king wants our presence to be kept a secret,” Luca said flatly. “He doesn’t want news of us to reach the tyrant.”
“Tyrant?”
“In Lapis Matyr, a country over the sea, there’s some guy who killed the real king and now he’s ruling there. Everyone seems to think he’s planning to wage war on the rest of the countries in Paragor.”
“Including this one?” Anna asked.
“Especially this one.”
There was a silence. “Wow,” she said. “Bad timing for us.”
“How long have you known?” Luca asked suddenly, unable to keep the question from his lips any longer.
Anna sighed. “About six months or so.”
“Six months!” he exclaimed, turning to look at her. He didn’t ask the question he wanted to. Not yet. “But you’re so young! You’re seventeen, Anna! Girls of seventeen don’t get cancer!”
She gave him a look that was achingly hollow and he bit his lip.
“Why didn’t you tell any of us?” he asked, not looking at her.
She looked at the ground. “I didn’t want pity,” she said.
“Perhaps that is not your choice to make,” he said, trying to keep the anger and underlying terror from his voice.
“I am the one dying, not you,” she said calmly.
Luca felt something grip his heart. “I know, Anna. That’s the point. You are dying, and you are one of my best friends. Don’t I deserve to be told, or would I have found out from the invitation to your funeral?” He knew he had gone too far as soon as the words left his mouth. Anna’s face went pale and her body stiffened.
“You are right. My feelings don’t matter. I should be thinking of everyone else.”
“Anna, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that—”
“How did you mean it then?” she hissed.
“I meant that I love you, and I want to share this with you. I want to take some of the burden, that’s all.”
“But you can’t share it with me! The burden is mine alone.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “We are always alone, Luca. I am alone in life, as I will be alone in my death.”
“How can you say that? Has our friendship meant nothing to you?” he asked.
Anna turned to him then, finally, and her face softened as she noted his tears. “Your friendship has meant everything to me, Luca. Everything. But I have realised that you can never really get away from being truly alone. It is the sorrow of human kind. We cannot share our thoughts perfectly, as we cannot share our feelings. The journey of life is truly a lonely one, just like the journey of death.”
“I don’t understand—aren’t you frightened? Angry? You should be angry, Anna!”
She looked at him then, and her eyes were suddenly so fierce and so full of rage that Luca shut his mouth with a loud snap. He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Luca,” she said calmly. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you, but there was no way that you could have understood. And I wanted my remaining time to be with people who were happy. I wanted things to be normal. Can you understand that?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice shaking. Then Anna hugged him. It was a long time before they released each other.
“You won’t tell them?” she asked and Luca frowned. “The others.”
Finally, after a long silence, he said, “If that is what you want.”
“Thank you, Luca.” And then she felt she needed to say something more. “Everyone dies.”
Oh, but not now, thought Luca. No one dies now, when they are young, when they are my friend.
“Yes.”
There were more ways of feeling sorrow than he could ever imagine. And he had only just begun to feel them. The sky was grey and cloudy, and it had begun to drizzle.
“To a more pressing matter,” she said pointedly, “where do you think the others are?”
He shrugged.
“Do you think they crossed through?”
“If they did, they aren’t here. They could be anywhere.”
“Do we start looking?”
“I’m fairly certain the prince already has ideas about that.”
“What do you mean?”
Luca looked sideways at her. “He has this weird idea that we’re somehow ... important.”
She stared blankly at him.
“I don’t know. He was saying he needed all six of us together, in any case. The king didn’t seem to agree.”
“What are you talking about, Luca?”
“I wish I knew,” he sighed. He shrugged once more. “All I know is they’ve already sent messages to every city in the three treaty countries telling people to look out for Strangers. I’m sure if they’re here they’ll turn up sooner or later.”
“Let’s just hope they didn’t wake up in that tyrant’s bedroom,” she said uneasily.
Luca snorted. “Jack would give him a run for his money!”
“I’m famished. Is there a place we can eat?” Anna said suddenly.
“We have to wait until it’s ready and they call us in.” No sooner had he spoken than a loud bell rang out across the palace, so Luca led Anna inside to the dining hall.
What Anna saw made her eyes widen. All who lived in the castle had come to join the king for dinner. They sat at the largest table she had ever seen. Anna doubted that, had she sat at one end and Luca at the other, they would have heard each other, even if shouting. She had never seen so many people all in the one room. They looked to be noblemen and women, for they were dressed very well in elaborate dresses and suits, and she wished she had something to wear other than her shabby t-shirt and jeans. There were two seats left empty on either side of the king. As Anna and Luca entered, the people stood and cheered, raising their glasses to the newcomers.