The Secret of the Emerald Sea (24 page)

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Authors: Heather Matthews

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Literary, #Mythology & Folk Tales, #Literary Fiction, #Romance, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Fairy Tales, #Teen & Young Adult

BOOK: The Secret of the Emerald Sea
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Chapter Fifty-Eight

 

Blake woke up, clear headed for once, and began putting some of his things in a little case. He no longer felt the need to dull his senses. He knew who had harmed his father. He knew it as he had never known anything else. It was the
not knowing
that had driven him to seek out oblivion in sleep...in dreams. He loved his father well, though they had never been on the same page at all, and now, he channeled all his anger toward the witch who was destroyed his father.

Blake would go to the forest and he would find the witch. He knew she was not in the village any more, and he could not think where else to search. The ball had shown him where Jane was, his Jane, but he felt cold toward her now. Somehow, she was a part of all that had happened, just as the villagers had thought. Why else should he see her, and that other young man, inside of the glass?

He felt that all the images he had seen in the ball were connected, and the forest was the clue he needed. He would take no horse, for the forest was dense with trees. He would go on foot, and he would not return until he had killed the witch who was so merciless and deceitful. Now, when he thought of her skin touching his, he felt ill. She was not what she had pretended to be, and he chided himself for being so naïve, and so trusting. He was a fool for taking her potions.

I was foolish, it’s true,
he thought
, but no more. I will kill her, and I will kill Jane if she played a role in all of this
.
If she is innocent, though, I will bring her home and marry her, as soon as I am old enough to do it.

Blake had mixed emotions. He was jealous of the beautiful young man who’d sat so close to his Jane near that roaring fire. He wavered between rage at the young girl he had loved, and hope that she was merely an innocent, as he was.

The two figures huddled by the fire had seemed so close, as though they finished one another’s thoughts. He felt some bond between them...it was like steel. And where was the little boy? His head ached with the strain and anger that tore at his nerves. But he packed, as calmly and quickly as he could, and he left a letter for his mother and for his chief servant letting them know that Lady Stirling should leave this place at once. Blake would come to her when he could.

He told his servant to avoid the forests and the main roads at all costs, and to travel in a group with the other workers of the estate. He wanted his mother in a large city where she could not be found. He prayed the Liesel was far away from the village now, but not too far...not so far that she couldn’t be caught.

How does one kill a witch
? Blake wondered as he slung his pack over his heavy coat. He pulled on his gloves and tucked a compass into his pocket. He picked up his rifle and headed out into the morning, feeling the sun on his face. It was chilly, but the sun was bright, and the day would be just right for traveling. He would make good time. He tried not to see the handsome face of Jane’s companion in his mind, but the image kept returning and jealousy burned in his body.

Jane, who are you
? he asked himself, torn between rage and despair.
Is no one who they say they are
? How could the girl who kissed him so tenderly already have found another, and where had this young man come from? For certain, he would have noticed him in the village for he wasn’t the sort that one forgot. He was angry with Jane, and he couldn’t say for sure just what he would do when he saw her again. He was stiff from tension, but tried to relax for he had a long day ahead.

The forest was almost free of snow now, but some still clung to the heavy branches just as it had in the crystal ball. He walked away from his old life without looking back. The servants watched him go, and they hurried into the house to chatter amongst themselves about where he might be going.

* * * *

 

Lady Stirling woke up around eight and read the letter her son had left for her. She was not sure how much more she could face. She got up quickly, ignoring the tea the servants had brought for her, and she hastily threw some of her plainest gowns in a trunk.

Calling to her maid, she asked that one of the servant’s dresses, simple shifts of black muslin, be brought up to her. She felt faint for a moment, just a quick moment, as she sat on her bed and waited for the dress. Blake was all alone in that great forest, and the girl, Liesel, was not what she seemed to be. Liesel was a witch, Blake had said, and he had proof that she had turned his father to stone.

He suspected that the girl had needed his father’s money, he wrote in the letter, for it had been taken, and Liesel seemed wealthy indeed for a girl staying over a simple pub in a simple room. She had poisoned him with her potions, night after night, but he’d found out the truth, and he would make sure she got what she deserved. He had not said what the proof was, but it all seemed to make sense, and she couldn’t imagine that Blake had gone mad overnight.

The girl brought the dress, and Lady Stirling sat, sick with misery, and decided that she would not leave. She would stay close to the forest, and perhaps send her servants to find her son and help him.
No good can come of his desire for vengeance
, she thought worriedly,
and why would a young woman, or even a witch, do such a thing to my husband
?
Just for money
?

It made little sense to her, and she sat and thought about going to the petty constable, but he’d made no progress in his other investigation, even with the help of the city’s detectives, so what good could it possibly do? She wondered if there was some way she could find some magic of her own to use against Liesel, but where would she go?

She sat and thought of her beautiful son, and she was sadder than she had ever been in her life before, sadder even than when she found out her husband had died
. I love him the most of anything, and more than anyone
, she thought, frantic with worry. And she beckoned her servants, the strongest of the men she employed, to come to her chambers for a meeting.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

 

Blake walked through the forest, scanning the many pathways that wove through the trees. He headed out toward the water, away from the city and from Lynnshire. He did not know why he chose this direction, but he walked on regardless, knowing somehow that it was right.

He felt lonely and forgotten against the tall trees. Here, he was as inconsequential as the pebbles on the ground. His pack wasn’t heavy, and he was quite warm and comfortable, but his head ached, for he had not had the tea for a long time, and his body did not like being without it.

He looked for a cave, or some other opening that might match the visions in the ball, but he could find nothing. The sun was high and he felt it beat down on his head as he walked. He thought of his mother, knowing she would be frantic, but he must do what he must do.

Blake found a little cave about an hour’s walk later, and cleared some ice and twigs away from its shallow mouth. He looked inside and gasped at the sight of a body, frozen and blue-white, lying near one wall. He crouched down and saw the face in the dim light, and his heart sank, for it was Deerfield, his father’s servant, and he was long dead.

He searched the pockets of the servant, wondering how he had come to be here, and how he had died. There were no obvious signs of struggle, and the body looked peaceful. He remembered the kindness of the man, who had always treated him with warmth and was always in good humor, and he cried, for he was sure now that this man was also a victim of Liesel.

He felt around the body and found a little pouch of velvet with notepaper and a little pencil inside. The pouch also held a little silver horse, which he knew Deerfield’s lady had given to him as a keepsake long ago. It was finely wrought of gleaming silver, and although it was small, it had cost her dearly to buy it. Deerfield had shown the little horse to everyone, as proud as could be. Blake put the tiny figure in his pocket, and he hoped to give it back to Deerfield’s lady one day. He could not turn back now, and so he rooted among the notepapers, looking for something, anything, that might help him on his quest.

The first sheet of paper was covered in a few words, but they were hard to read. They looked as though an uneducated child had written them. He knew Deerfield could read and write, for he had seen him do both, and he wondered at the primitive letters, which fell into one another without proper spaces. He took the notepaper out of the cave and into the light.
Young witch
, the note said.
May have killed Lord S. Blinded me. I cannot get home. Love to Bessie
.

If Blake had had any doubts about his course of action, they were now erased. The poor man who lay dead in the cave had wandered the forest, for days probably, getting more and more lost and frozen, until he’d felt for the mouth of the cave and crawled in it to die.

“How he must have suffered!” Blake whispered, appalled.

He could not bear to look at the body again, and so he moved on through the forest, trying to write down information about where he was that would help him bring the body home to Bessie, Deerfield’s girl, when he was done with his quest. The forest was vast, though, and it all looked the same to Blake. It would take a miracle indeed to find this spot on another day.

Blake knew he would need to make camp soon, as the evening came quickly in winter, and the sun fell so fast, leaving the air dark and freezing cold. He looked about for shelter of his own. He would rather freeze to death than share a cave with Deerfield’s lifeless body and its stench of decay that even the cold temperatures could not prevent.

Blake sat for a moment on a stone and put his rifle down. He put his head in his hands and cried. He was afraid he would die, too, here in this forest. Where was Liesel now? He sat despondent for a few moments, still mourning the terrible loss of his friend, and then he rose again. If ever he was to be a man, and not a boy any longer, he must learn to be stronger.

Chapter Sixty

 

In the Sky, Jupiter scanned the forest with his omniscience, closing his eyes tightly. His mind roved over the trees and the ground, searching... He sat for a long time with his eyes shut. In time, he saw a boy, a young man really, sitting on a rock and looking forlorn. He did not know who he was, but he felt sure that the boy was connected to everything that was happening.

He swept the area for landmarks and clues, holding his body completely still, and then he opened his eyes. Shaking his head to clear it from his meditations, he then sent a message to someone he knew could help the most and waited for her to answer his summons.

Diana the Huntress appeared in the Sunlit Cloud moments later, her cheeks flushed under her deeply tanned skin. She carried her bow and arrow, as always, and looked healthy and glowing in the light.

“You summoned me,” she said matter-of-factly, without much curiosity. Of all the goddesses, she was least likely to kowtow to Jupiter, for she was her own person, and more comfortable with animals and trees than with her godly counterparts.

“I need a favor,” Jupiter said, gesturing to her to sit down. She remained standing, though, and she listened carefully to his instructions. She nodded once when he was done speaking, and then she turned to leave, her long legs supple and muscled as she moved.

* * * *

 

Diana smiled at the challenge, for she was to hunt in the forests near Lynnshire, and her prey was a young man who would help them win the Great War.

There is no one I cannot hunt, and nothing I cannot find in an earthly forest
, she thought, her heart swelling with confidence. She was proud to do her part, and so she emerged from the cloud, floating downward toward the forest floor. Within minutes, she was scouring the forest, running until her muscles screamed in protest, her bow and arrow in a pack upon her strong shoulders.

The boy was a clue, Jupiter has said. An important clue, and she must find him and take him to the shore where Neptune’s army lay in wait. She found the cave where a dead man, much older than her target, lay and she knew the boy could not be far. Stalking the forest, as silent as graceful as an animal, she listened and looked, alert to anything that would help her in her hunt.

She heard the rustling of leaves and the crunching of snow. She moved quietly toward the sound, her suede boots soft and silent upon the ground. She reached for her bow and arrow, for she could see the boy in the distance, and though she needed him alive, she would injure him if he ran from her. Slowly moving toward him, she came up behind him where he stood examining his compass and looking lost.

She walked up within a few feet of him, pulled her arrow back in the bow until it was perfectly positioned, and then she spoke, quietly, so as not to frighten him. He turned around, grabbing clumsily for his rifle and, for a moment, the two stared at each other, neither saying a word.

“Hello,” Diana said quietly, breaking the silence. Each stared at the weapon the other held, but neither attacked.

* * * *

 

“Who are you?” Blake asked, suspicious. Was this Liesel in yet another form? He stared at the beautiful women, clad in a short toga that made no sense in the current season. She was deeply bronzed, as though it was high summer, and her features had a glacial perfection. Every line of her nose and her lips was carved and distinct. She was beautiful with golden hair and a headband of shining gold that went across her smooth brow.

Her teeth were white and strong as she smiled at him, putting him at ease, but still he wondered about her and thought she must be a magical creature, an evil witch turned beautiful and strong through black magic.

“I am not the witch you seek,” she said reassuringly. “I am Diana, the Huntress, and I was sent here to keep you safe and help you on your quest.”

“Diana...the Huntress?” he repeated, incredulous. “One of the Roman goddesses?” He scoffed and shook his head, still pointing his rifle at her. “The Roman gods are just a fairy story. You aren’t real. Tell me who you really are this minute, or I’ll kill you.”

“No need to attack,” she said, grinning. “Let me prove to you who I am, and that I am real.” She made a sound, an animal cry, and suddenly, he heard the sounds of footfall on the forest floor, and the scratching sounds of animals. Soon, all manner of woodland creatures were gathering about her, peacefully circling the goddess as though waiting for a command.

Gentle deer stood transfixed, staring at her, and they folded their fragile bodies before her as though genuflecting to her. Little animals came and curled up at her feet, as though they were her pets. She lowered her bow and arrow and petted the three deer that gathered at her feet, stroking their heads.

“I hunt them,” she said, a little sadly, “but I love them well, and they are a part of me, as I am of them. I am Diana, the Huntress, as I told you, and the animals know me. They feel my spirit, which is as animal as their own. I can live in the forest as though I am an animal myself, and I can help you find the girl and the witch.” She watched Blake lower his gun and stare at the spectacle she had created. The animals were silent, waiting.

He trusted her, but he had trusted others. He had always been too trusting, too quick to believe in words that might not be true. He walked over to her and the animals clustered around her warily, ready to protect the goddess.

She made another sound and the animals scattered, running quickly back from whence they had come. Blake handed his rifle to the goddess, noticing the unearthly glow in her eyes, which somehow reminded him of Jane with her eyes like emeralds touched by sunlight. He stared into her eyes for a moment, feeling that he was in the presence of something greater than he had ever before known, and he bowed his head to her in respect.

She reached for him then, and held him close to her own strong body, calming him with her embrace. “You are tired, I know, for hunting is hard work to the unskilled,” she said. He nodded sadly, and she smiled a little smile, a comforting stillness in her face. “You are lost, but I will help you. Come with me, for I know the way, and I will help you for a while until you have your bearings again.”

He followed her to a little clearing where she reached into her pack and offered him a flask wrapped in deerskin. “Drink this,” she ordered, and he was wary again, for he had been poisoned before. “It is only wine, but the best wine you have ever tasted, although you look like a boy who has tasted the fine things in life,” she said, noting his expensive clothes, however disheveled they were.

Blake was thirsty indeed, so he drank deeply, and handed the container back. The wine was deep and earthy, flavored with spices he could not place. He could barely control the urge to drain the flask, but politeness restrained him.

“No, no, finish it,” she said. “Do what you will. You seem to me a boy who has not done what he will, so you find yourself thus.”

Blake drained the flask and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. It was easy for him to believe that this woman had always done what she would.

“You must give reign to the part of you that is animal, like I do,” she said seriously. “When humans forget that they are also animals, the universe will find a way to make them remember, and that can be a bad thing.”

He thought of the poets who worshipped nature and found peace there. Diana was one of those. She nodded, as though she had read his mind, and he smiled shyly.

“We are here, in this beautiful place, and we are healthy and strong. We will go on our hunt, out of the forest to the water, and we shall then see what we are fighting against.”

“I am not brave,” he said, ashamed. “Nor have I ever been athletic, or quick. I am not like you.”

He watched her slide the flask back in her pack. He hoped the wine would soothe him so that they could talk more freely. They must travel far by nightfall, he was sure, and darkness would come all too soon.

“You are strong enough to try, and that means much,” she told him. “The rest, I can provide for I am quick enough for two, and strong as an ox.”

She led Blake through the forest, and he told her the story of the witch, of his father, and of the girl, Jane, who had abandoned him. Diana smiled. “Perhaps it is not as you think and the witch was a danger to Jane as well. Perhaps her instinct made her fear something, just as animals here startle at sounds that are not typical because they know they mean danger.”

“Yes...I guess that could be true... Only...she travels with another boy, older than me. A man, I suppose, and she is with him now for I have seen them together.” He reached into his pack and brought out the ball, which was icy cold.

Diana grabbed the ball and stared into it. Instantly, its cloudy interior cleared, and she saw an image of a man with the wings of a great bird of prey, circling the sky.

“He is real!” she gasped, her eyes shining. “The animals have told me stories, but I was not sure...” She smiled, watching the graceful beauty of the man-beast as he turned sweeping circles in the air, his features lit up and unearthly.

“What...who is it?” he asked, for the face was one he had seen before.

“The Cupid, or so I believe,” Diana said, elated. “Is this the one you saw with your true love?”

“Yes, though he did not seem to be a winged creature when I saw him. I thought he was a normal boy, like me.” He watched the creature move through the sky in wonder, for he was beautiful, but not at all what Blake had thought he was. He was not human, like Jane. He was more like the goddess who stood before him. His hatred of Jane, which had been fueled by terrible jealousy, receded and he felt ashamed for clearly the girl was at the mercy of magic and fate, just as he was.

“You were wrong, I think,” she said, smiling. “For he is the long-lost son of Venus, and I have hunted for him for many years. He was my only failure. I searched the earth,
everywhere
there was to look, but he was never there.”

“Why is this...Cupid...with my Jane?” he asked suspiciously.

“He is helping her to survive, for your witch has another agenda, and she is in great danger. The witch has great powers, the Gods of the Underworld push her forward, and she is dangerous. She wishes to kill your love, and she will do it if she can. She is looking for Jane right now, and we must find the girl before she does. The Cupid is there to protect her, but he is weak, perhaps, having been cursed by Pluto.”

“Cursed?” Blake asked, for it was all impossible to believe, and yet Diana told the story as though it was not of much consequence.

“Yes,” she said. “Pluto rules the Underworld, and Venus spurned him, and he loved her well, or at least he loved her
beauty
well.” She smiled, as though she had a secret she kept inside.

“Pluto cursed the poor boy, who was just a tiny cherub, and the most beautiful baby I have ever seen.”

Blake’s faced tightened. He was used to being the handsome one, and this winged creature was close to the girl he loved, and more handsome than he.

“We could not find him, not for ages,” Diana said, her face angry. “He was hidden too well, and cursed too well. We had thought he was in the Underworld, and none of us go there for it is a wretched place, and our powers are not strong there.

“So, Minerva, our Goddess of Wisdom, was sent to find the girl, and found the Cupid as well,” Diana continued. “And now we shall go find all of them, and we will all be safe and happy once more.” She started to walk forward, nodding at him to follow.

“But what should Minerva want with a village girl?” he asked, exasperated. “She is a village girl. She lived with her little brother in a shabby farmhouse. She is not one of you, but just a simple girl.”

Diana looked at him. She seemed a little sorry for him, probably because there was so much he did not understand. “She is not only a girl. She is a half deity. I am sorry, Blake, but she did not know this until recently, and she is running from that same knowledge. She does not want to be anything but a little girl, or so Neptune has told us.”

“Neptune,” he said. “King Neptune, from mythology?” He ran his hands through his hair in consternation. He felt he had been dropped headfirst into a world that was like a dream, a wild dream. The type you got when you ate far too much and then went right to sleep, or when you drank a witch’s poison tea...

“Not mythology,” she said abruptly. “Never mythology.” She wriggled her fingers in front of his face. “Touch them, they are real,” she ordered.

He held her strong, rough fingers with their short nails, and he felt her skin, and then he let go.

“Real,” she went on. “We are real, but not everyone can see, and so few believe.”

“There are three worlds...the Trinity,” Diana said reverently. The Sky, The Sea, and The Underworld. I am of the Sky, but I prefer the earth, for I am the Huntress. But most of the others all reside near the Sunlit Cloud, where Jupiter rules. I must go there sometimes, but I spend most of my time hunting.”

“So...Jane is of the Sea?” he asked. “She is the daughter of Neptune?” He remembered the shining, rippling fair hair, the jewel bright eyes, the translucent skin. Indeed, her beauty was not of this earth. He could see her under the water, a vision, like the sirens who lured men to their ruin. Had she not done that to him?

“Yes, but of a human mother. She is of mixed blood, and she has power, but does not yet understand who she is for she was raised on the land. She found out who she was almost by accident, by going to the sea when the moon was full and everything was exactly right. She went below the sea, and she found out who she was.” She stepped up her pace, dragging him along by the hand in an effort to speed him up.

“Walk faster now,” she said. “And no more talking, for good hunters do not alert their prey in advance.”

Blake swallowed the many questions that he had unwillingly. Jane not being human was the worst of it, but he must see her, speak to her, anyway. She had not harmed his father. She had done no harm, and she was as innocent as he. She had tried to be simply a girl, but it was not meant to be.

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