Chosen Ones (4 page)

The children were silent for a long moment as they surveyed the desolate scene.

“It’s been abandoned for ages,” Julia said final y. Peter nodded. He was watching the shadows of the trees lengthen. They were going to be like Hansel and Gretel, lost in a dark forest. There was some shelter to be found in the trees, perhaps, but they had no food, no water, no protection against whatever dangers might lurk in the night. His father would never forgive him if something happened to Julia.

“That pond doesn’t feel like another portal, does it?” he asked. Julia shook her head. There was no pul here—no magical presence urging them forward as it had in Oxford.

Peter shivered. The sun was setting, and it was getting cold. Maybe he ought to light a fire. Oh, if only he had paid closer attention in Wilderness Survival!

Julia watched the daylight lose its battle with the encroaching night. Above her, tiny pinpricks of light began to appear in the heavens. She wanted the solemn stil ness of this moment to linger forever. It seemed so—wel , so significant.

Peter’s voice broke into her reverie. “We ought to find shelter,” he said.

They found it in the trees. The silver branches of the birches were sturdy and yet pliable, and Peter constructed a sort of canopy under which they could sleep. They would look for water at first light, he decided. Water, and then a way home.

Even without the comfort of a fire he was asleep before Julia. She lay back with her hands behind her head, watching through the branches as the stars winked into the sky. She smiled to herself as she watched them, and the smile stayed on her face as she fel asleep under the silent skies.

P
eter woke from a dreamless sleep, his stomach gnawing with hunger. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and groaned. He had been expecting to wake up in the spare bedroom at his grandparents’ home in Oxford. Apparently it hadn’t been a dream.

He pushed back the branches and stood, stretching his long limbs. The sun was stil low in the sky, but already it had burnt away the chil of the night. It promised to be a hot day. There was one thought in Peter’s mind: water.

He bent back under the branches and shook his sister’s shoulder. She squirmed under his touch and rol ed over with a protesting sigh.

“Julia, we need to find a stream, or some fruit trees or something,” he announced. She murmured he r agreement and was silent. Peter groaned and shook her again, more forceful y this time. “Julia!”

“Go on; let me sleep,” she mumbled. Peter stood and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. He supposed she would be fine there—she was hidden among the tangle of branches, and anyway he could move faster without her. He glanced once more at the sun; they real y couldn’t wait much longer to find water. He bent down again.

“I’l be back soon, Julia. Don’t leave the garden, al right? You promise you’l stay here?” She nodded through a sleepy haze. Satisfied, Peter headed out of the garden and back to the path, certain that it would lead to a stream.

It was real y only a few minutes later—though it felt like much longer—that Julia final y woke to find her brother gone. She extracted herself from the canopy of branches and paced over to the stagnant pond, wondering what Peter had done with himself.

She vaguely remembered something about a stream and supposed he had gone off to find water. She debated trying to fol ow him and concluded that she would do just as wel to remain in the garden. There were no predators here—none that she could see, at least.

It was at that moment that she realized she was being watched.

It was some instinct she hadn’t known she possessed that warned her of the danger. She stayed very, very stil for a long moment, afraid to do so much as breathe. Perhaps if she didn’t move, whatever it was would move on. Her eyes darted from side to side, searching for an escape route—

or, failing that, some sort of weapon. There were a few mossy stones that had been pushed out of the wal by the sprawling roots of the trees, but they lay too far away to reach. Perhaps if she ran…

There was real y only one thing to do. She turned, slowly and deliberately, and looked the enemy straight in the eye.

It was a man. He stood beside the stone chair, his hands clasped in front of him. He wore a long, hooded robe, and his face was hidden in shadow.

And yet Julia could feel his eyes on her. She stood poised and ready to flee, every muscle tensed.

But then he held out a hand to her, and a low, solemn voice said, “Welcome, Julia. We have been waiting a long time for you.”

There was a long, wary pause as Julia sized up the stranger.

“Who are you?” she asked cautiously. “What is it that you want of me?”

The man pul ed down his hood, and for the first time Julia could see his face. He was old—far older than her grandfather, Julia thought. His face was etched with deep lines—one of them a pink scar running the length of his cheek—and his white hair only thinly covered his scalp. But his eyes were bright, and he was smiling.

“My name is Gaius,” he said. “And I want you to fulfil a prophecy.”

There was another long moment in which Julia simply stared at the man. He was mad, she thought

—mad, and possibly dangerous. She thought again of the stones that lay near the wal and wondered if Peter was nearby. Maybe he would come if she screamed…

“You need not worry,” said Gaius. “I have no intention of hurting you. I would like, if you wil permit me, to tel you a story.”

She nodded, never taking her eyes off his.

“Good,” he said. “Now, perhaps I can make you more comfortable?” He gestured to a blanket and cushions spread out on the ground. Julia stared—

none of it had been there a moment before. Gaius smiled. “I have a little magic,” he said simply.

“Yes…of course,” said Julia dumbly. She moved to the blanket and sat down against a cushion, wondering if this was how Alice had felt when she got to Wonderland.

“This is an old story,” began Gaius, “and I am the only man yet living who can tel it true. It is the story of a good land and a good people, and how they were brought to ruin.”

There was once a country, said Gaius, that lay far beyond the seas. This was a beautiful land, with lush meadows, fragrant woods, and crystal clear rivers dashing down the hil s onto the great fertile plains of the south. This land was Khemia, ruled over by Marcus, the crown prince of the Dynasty of Ilium. It was a place of peace, and al its peoples lived in harmony.

It was in the sixth year of Marcus’s reign that disaster struck. A dormant volcano erupted, enveloping the land in a blanket of deadly gas released from deep within the earth. Marcus had heard the old stories—stories already ancient in his time—of an island beyond the sea, and organized the evacuation of Khemia. And after six long weeks at sea, weeks without good food or water or space to move, Marcus saw mountains in the distance.

They found themselves in a wild new country—a land of forests and beaches, a land of bright light and mysterious shadows—and set about making a home there. The first crude shelters they built gave way to houses, and the houses to towns, and final y a great castle crowned over the island. It was from this castle that Marcus ruled, and the land grew fertile with justice and peace, just as Khemia had before it.

But there was unrest among the lords. There were whispers in dark rooms and murmurs of treason, which Marcus ignored at his peril. He was an old man by this time, his judgment clouded by the desire for ease and a belief in the loyalty of his people.

His death, some said, was hastened by the hand of one of the lords, but Marcus’s health had already been failing and nothing could be proved.

The lords took power, three of them crowning themselves regents, and the days of peace were ended. They cal ed themselves the Jackal, the Leopard, and the Wolf, and they enforced their power ruthlessly, enslaving any who refused total obedience to their own selfish ideas and demands.

They had been granted unnatural long life by virtue of three ebony amulets which they wore about their necks—and as time went on, they became only more cruel. Marcus’s paradise, said Gaius, became a prison.

Julia was quiet throughout the story. She sat with her chin resting on her knees, staring wide-eyed at the man before her. As he fel silent she asked again, in a hushed voice, “Who are you?” He smiled at her question. “I was with Marcus on Khemia, and I was loyal to him throughout his reign. When the Lords of Aedyn revolted I escaped to these woods. They sent out search parties to try and find me, but they never succeeded. The woods are dark and deep, and are a safe refuge for a fugitive like me.”

“And what are we—Peter and I—what are we doing here?”

“I cal ed you,” Gaius said simply. “I went to your world and made a way for you to come here.”

“The garden,” said Julia. “You’re the monk—the monk who was…”

“Murdered,” he said grimly. “Yes, I’m the monk. I built the garden as a gateway for the Chosen Ones when the time was right. I was told to cal until they heard and answered. And you came.”

“Told? Who told you?”

“One even greater than Marcus, child. For there is a greater story—a deeper story. A story which rules al stories. And a story of which you are part.” Julia began to think that someone had made a very big mistake.

“I’m not…Gaius, I’m not the chosen one. Peter and I…”

“Who are you to say, my dear, whether or not you are meant for great things?”

Julia shivered.

“Tel me—tel me about this place. Tel me how you can be here if you were—” she swal owed. “If you were murdered back in Oxford.”

“I told you before that I have a little magic,” said the monk. “Because I died in another world my spirit can remain. And I am needed here to tel the story.

The people must not forget. This is where we come to remember.” He lifted his head and looked around.

“This is the garden of the Great King. It is the place where the faithful have gathered every year for the past five centuries to tel the story of the exodus from Khemia. And now we also tel the story of our enslavement in Aedyn.”

“Aedyn?”

“This island, fair one. This is Aedyn.” Julia nodded as the monk continued. “This garden is where the faithful gather to remember the past and look forward to the future. A future…” He paused. “A future in which two strangers from another world—

the Chosen Ones—would come to this land and set it free.”

“What do you want us to do, Gaius?”

“That is for you to discover. Al I can do is tel you of what has been. I can no longer change things.

That is for you to do. And you wil not be alone, fair one. You wil be given a new power to help you fight.” He raised his head, listening. “Your brother comes. I must leave you.” He stood and helped Julia to her feet. “I must warn you not to speak of this to anyone

—not even to your brother.” Julia opened her mouth to protest, and Gaius put a finger against her lips.

“No one may know what you have learned. Do you understand? You alone know these truths, and they are dangerous truths indeed. Not everyone you meet can be trusted.”

“But Peter…”

“You can keep Peter safest by your silence,” Gaius said. “He comes!”

Julia looked around, and then realized that Gaius was gone. He seemed to have melted into the shadows. But she was alone for only a moment before a wild-eyed figure appeared from between the trees.

“Peter! You found water?”

“A castle! Julia, there’s a castle! Come on!”
CHAPTER

5

T
here!”

Peter pointed triumphantly into the distance.

“Over there, through that pass in the mountains.” Julia caught up with him on the crest of a hil and stared into the distance. They edged their way forward into ful daylight, making their way onto a large rock. It had steps cut into it, leading up to a kind of platform on its peak. Julia ran up, enthral ed by what she saw. The ground fel away sharply beneath the rock to reveal a truly resplendent landscape.

Stretched out in front of them, as far as their eyes could see, was a gentle plain, bathed in the late afternoon sunlight, with rich green fields and hedgerows. There were meadows ahead of her reaching to distant hil s, studded with flowers that lent a gentle perfume to the light breeze.