The World Below, page 31
‘First make your flame,’ Percival instructs.
It is getting easier to create fire on my palm each time I do it. I hold up my hand and show it to Percival.
‘Now, while you are holding the flame, imagine it is now a coin spinning in the air.’
‘What? Are you serious?’ My flame goes out as I lose concentration. ‘How am I supposed to do that?’
Percival sighs, and I feel like the most incompetent creature ever. ‘As I understand it, you imagine a coin near the flame. When you have control of it, you push it to where the flame is and make the fire disappear. It should convince you, and me, that the flame is now a coin if you do it quickly enough—if your magic is mind magic, that is.’
I look at him as if he is mad. He sighs again. ‘Or I guess you could just try making the flame appear somewhere else.’ He holds out his hand. ‘See if you can make one on my hand.’
I take a deep breath and go through the process I usually do when my flame appears, only this time I try to put it on Percival’s outstretched hand. Nothing.
I try twice more, but I can’t see anything. I try once more, and I imagine holding the flame there.
‘Can you see anything?’ I ask in desperation.
‘Oh, you started? I was not sure,’ Percival says innocently, and I want to punch him.
‘Yes,’ I growl.
He shrugs and drops his hand to his side. ‘I guess that only leaves us with particle magic.’
‘Are you sure?’ I ask. ‘I mean, from my perspective, this is an odd way to test for magic that deals with the physical being. Come to think of it, all these tests are rather odd.’
‘No, I’m not sure,’ he snaps. ’It is not like this is something I do every day. I’m a sprite. We do not need to be tested because we all use earth magic.’
‘Then how—’
‘From watching greater creatures being tested,’ he finishes. ‘And none of them are as difficult about it as you!’
I ignore his bad temper. It’s not my fault his headache is making him grumpy, and it isn’t my fault I don’t know much about magic. Still, he is trying to help me despite what is going on with him, so I try to keep my tone neutral as I ask, ‘Is there something else we can try to test whether or not I use mind magic?’
He closes his eyes, and I wonder if I’ve pushed him too far. They fly open. ‘Yes… perhaps. Eleanora has spoken of seeing colours around living things.’
‘What, you mean like an aura?’ I scoff.
He frowns. ‘You asked, so no need to get snippy with me.’
‘Sorry,’ I say, and I am.
‘I believe if you relax and attempt to absorb everything about a living object, the colour is just there,’ he explains.
He isn’t joking. I did ask him if there was another way, so I guess I will give it a try—even if it sounds like spiritualist mumbo jumbo.
Percival rubs his forehead. ’Perhaps you can have a go while I take my tea.’
Without waiting for an answer, he moves away and finds a tree stump close by to use as a seat. He reaches into his pocket, and a table appears, followed by steaming a teapot and a cup and saucer.
As he makes himself comfortable and pours some tea, I am dismissed. I may as well do what he said while I wait for him to finish. It’s not like there is anything else to do.
I pick an apple from the bowl and drop cross-legged to the floor. Holding up the fruit, I try to take in every detail. When I peer at it more closely, I see that the skin is red, laced with flecks of a darker red. There is a slight bruise near the bottom that is turning a little brown. I smell its sweet, sharp scent before running my fingers over the silky-smooth surface. Nothing. I stare so hard at the apple, my vision blurs and the fruit shimmers. This is not working.
I rise and place the apple back in the bowl and then wander over to the window. Percival’s tea things are gone, and he is cleaning his clothes with magic, then ‘ironing’ out the wrinkles. He pulls out a comb and tidies his hair. He is so fastidious. It makes me smile.
Glancing down at my rumpled outfit, I wonder if Percival will tidy me up when I escape from here. Or, better still, will I be able to do it for myself? Best I find my way out first.
‘Ahem, Percy.’
He swings round and I feel the full force of his death stare. ‘I am Percival, never Percy.’
‘Um… okay…. Anyway, I don’t think my magic is anything to do with nature and the physical.’
He raises and eyebrow. ‘I am not surprised. You lack empathy.’
‘Snippy,’ I retort. I want to add, ‘I don’t,’ but I am well aware that it is not one of my strengths.
We glare at each other. Time almost seems to stop as we face off. We can’t go on wasting time like this—my deadline is looming. I break eye contact first. ‘What now?’
He shrugs. ‘Your magic must be particle magic.’
I almost sag to the ground with relief. We have finally moved a step closer to getting me out of this prison. ‘Great. Can you teach me how to use it?’
‘Hold on, let us not get ahead of ourselves. We should test it to make sure we are right.’
I tense a little, but force a smile. I mean, we tested all the other options, why are we wasting time on this?
Percival sighs. He does that a lot. ‘We test to make sure we are right. And we test because that is your first lesson on how to use your magic.’
That is so logical, I can’t argue with it, but it slows things down. I clench and unclench my fists, trying to let go of my anger. If I am honest though, I am also trying to calm my nerves.
My mind circles back to my learning to make a flame, which was so difficult. Now that we have found my magic, I am worried I won’t be able to use it before I am kicked out of the maze.
Oblivious to my misgivings, Percival carries on talking. ‘Creatures with this sort of magic often describe seeing the individual parts that make up an object. Sometimes they can even see them moving.’
A light switches on in my head, ‘Ah, like they see the particles that make things, like electrons and neutrons.’
‘What?’ Percival says, then simply ignores my comment. ‘Start with the apple again. This time when you look at the fruit, you want to try and find all the tiny pieces that make it an apple.’
‘Honestly, Percival, isn’t any of your advice practical?’
Dropping his head into his hands, Percival moans, ‘Must you always argue? Just once can you not do what I ask without complaining?’
I glare at him through the glass. ‘Perhaps I wouldn’t argue so much if you were a better teacher.’
He looks up, catches my eye, and calmly reaches into his pocket and pulls out a book. Opening it to the bookmarked place, he drops his eyes and starts reading.
My temper has got the better of me, and I have overstepped. Although my anger still has a hold of me, I say, ‘I’m sorry, Percival. I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t have been able to come this far without you.’
He continues reading as if I haven’t spoken, although maybe his posture isn’t quite as rigid. I wait a moment, hoping he will relent.
‘Grrrr.’ Of course, he has no idea how infuriating his passive dismissal is. I have to try something else or resign myself to waiting until his mood changes. ‘Tell me, do you shrink things to fit in your pocket?’ I ask him.
He raises his eyes. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I created a portal in my pocket that opens into the library at Eleanora’s. Her daughter is home, and she is the one making sure I am fed and watered.’
My eyes go wide, and my mouth drops open. What?
‘Get out of here! Really? That is so cool. What sort of magic allows you to do that? Will I be able to make a portal?’
He stares unblinkingly at me with his startling green eyes as if he is waiting for something.
The penny slowly drops. ‘I know. I must find out what my magic is before I do anything more advanced.’
His eyes return to the words on the page in front of him. I am dismissed again.
Turning my back on the scene outside, I rake my gaze over the room. Percival is not going to help me until I try his stupid idea.
I pull out a chair and face the bowl of apples and pears. I take some deep breaths to relax, then I stare at an apple for forever. Well, at least for a couple of minutes. Nothing happens.
I resist the urge to leap to my feet and tell Percival he is wrong, that this is not my type of magic. I lean back in the chair and stare at the fire. I am so tired, all I want to do is sleep. I clear my mind and allow the flames to send me into a trance.
As I watch the fire flicker and dance in the fireplace, something seems to shift within my vision. I’m able to pick out every tiny particle that makes up each curling tendril of fire. Percival was right, they do not sit still—they move around as if full of energy.
I turn my head towards the bowl. The room swirls about me and my head spins. I narrow my focus down to the bowl of fruit. I can identify all the bits that make up the apples and the pears and the bowl and the table, plus some stray pieces in the air.
‘Percival,’ I call. ‘I can—’ My vision returns to normal.
I turn and find the sprite peering in through the window. He is smiling.
‘So particle magic is your forte. Can you do it again?’
I am grinning, and laughter bubbles up inside me. I resist the urge to clap my hands like an excited child. Instead, I return my gaze to the bowl and try again. I clear my mind and try to relax. Nothing happens. Frustration roils inside, but I press it down. Turning to the fire, I start the process of “seeing” the particles again.
I do this three or four times and then try breaking the fruit into pieces without using the fire. After a number of attempts, I am finally able to do it.
‘One more time,’ I tell myself. ‘I did it,’ I shout when I succeed.
‘Now, can you make your flame and observe as the particles create the shape?’ Percival asks.
I am shaking with excitement, but I do as he bids, and I’m amazed as all the stray pieces of stuff floating around in the air come together over my hand to form a flame. I rise to my feet, knocking over the chair, and punch the air. ‘I rock!’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Percival responds drily.
My stomach rumbles, punctuating the celebration.
‘You need to eat,’ he tells me.
He’s right, I’m hungry and exhausted. I finish off another large serving of porridge from the pot, and as I push the plate away, a portion of apple pie with cream appears.
So the crone is watching me.
I finish the desert. ‘I wish I had some coffee,’ I muse, wondering if the crone will oblige.
Nothing magically appears, and I chuckle out loud. I can’t believe I actually expected coffee to appear. How this world has changed me. Percival disappears from the window, then reappears moments later. A cup of coffee materialises in front of me.
A smile curls the edge of Percival’s mouth. ‘With Eleanora’s daughter’s compliments.’
Could this day get any better? I sip the hot brew and relax in my chair. I am going to savour every mouthful of this because I have earned it.
I’m not quite done when Percival’s voice shatters my peace. ‘Well, if you have quite finished, you still have to find a way out of there.’
‘You mean, like, make enough fire to burn the place down?’ I ask cheekily.
‘No.’ The voice comes from nowhere, sounding very much like the crone.
‘This is probably her home,’ Percival tells me.
I glance around the room. ‘If it’s her home, then wouldn’t there be other rooms and a way in and out?’
‘Of course.’ He nods. ‘She is probably concealing the rest from you.’
‘So if I can’t burn it down—’
‘You have to think of another way of getting out,’ Percival finishes for me. ‘And preferably one that causes as little damage as possible—you don’t want to make an enemy of a crone.’
My slice of happiness has obviously ended. Damnation, must everything in this world be so difficult? I stand and study my prison, hoping for some divine inspiration.
CHAPTER 7
It's All About Family and Friends
Having tossed and turned for quite some time last night, I awake surprisingly refreshed as the rising sun bruises the sky a deep purple. Although I believed myself to be up early, my hosts were earlier still. When I arrive downstairs, the table is already set with a selection of fruit, breads, cheeses, and meats, and the bustle in the kitchen tells me more food is coming.
‘Ah, good morning, my young friend. Are you ready to be on your way?’ Mender asks, coming through the door, carrying a steaming pot of tea and some mugs.
‘Yes, thank you.’ I am suddenly awkward. While I dressed and tidied my room, I resolved not to tell Mender I worked out who I am. I find myself undecided again as I see him in the flesh.
Telling them I believe I am their great-grandson is the type of thing you do when you can spend a few days getting to know them better. Not when you’re leaving a few minutes later.
‘You didn’t have to go to all this trouble for me,’ I say a tad awkwardly.
‘Nonsense. It isn’t often guests grace our home nowadays.’ He places the pot and mugs on the table.
As he settles himself, my eyes are drawn to the picture on the wall.
‘An interesting pair, aren’t they?’ Keeper says as she enters the room.
‘I think…. I am…. The girl in the portrait—I think she’s my mother.’ The words slip out before my mind is aware I’m saying them.
A hand gently squeezes my shoulder, and I turn to meet Keeper’s eyes. ‘Well, of course she is, lad. You look so very much like her.’
‘And why else would the minotaur send you here to us if not to find your lost family?’ Mender added.
Keeper’s gentle pressure on my shoulder urges me towards the table. ‘Come, eat. Then perhaps you might tell us what brings you to the minotaur’s maze and how we might help you finish your quest.’
I take a seat, and Keeper loads my plate with food while Mender pours the tea. Meanwhile, I gnaw my lip, wondering how much to tell them about the pickle I find myself in.
In the end, it all comes tumbling out. Not just Mum being taken to face charges of benefitting illegally from her position in the World Above, but about Pris’s and my search for the tokens to admit us to the Seelie Court, and how we were duped into taking on this quest. And I don’t stop there. I also tell them about how I am sure I’m falling in love with Pris, and how we can never be together, and even if we could be, I messed everything up.
I clap my hand over my mouth, my cheeks heating. I hadn’t meant to say any of that last bit. Keeper and Mender chuckle, and Mender slaps me on the back.
‘Ah, the path of young love never runs smooth. I am sure if she is the one for you, you will be able to make it up to her.’ Mender smiles as he speaks and laughter lines crinkle around his eyes.
‘Aren’t you shocked that I… um… like an elf?’ I ask, wondering why they decided to focus on this rather than my mother’s situation.
‘Son, things are a little less strict out here. There are almost as many mixed marriages as not. If you are happy, we are happy for you. I am more interested in spending our time finding out what we can do to help you help our granddaughter,’ Mender says.
Keeper places her hand over mine. ‘Snake, the heart wants what it wants. What I cannot understand is, why did you decide to go on this quest when you believe your mother would have been cleared?’
‘It was because of something one of Bernais’s supporters said to me. He told me that even if my mother got out of this, they would make sure she was charged with something even worse. I looked around me and saw that a large number of people in the court felt as he did. I needed to think of another way to rescue her from Bernais’s clutches,’ I tell them.
My great-grandparents nod their understanding.
I carry on. ‘At the time I thought they hated her because she is not a creature of high standing, but after last night—’
‘You think it is because she is half elf?’ Keeper asks.
‘Yes. Now, if I get through this quest, I will be able to request a boon from the Queen, but I’m not sure what to ask for. How will I keep my mother and myself safe from people with such hatred inside them?’
‘Perhaps you should simply petition the Queen to keep you both safe,’ Mender suggests.
Keeper places her hand over mine. ‘You will always be welcome here—you and your mother. You will be far from the political intrigues of the Capitol, and they will likely forget you exist.’
‘What about—’
‘Your father would be welcome too,’ Mender assures me, his eyes full of such love, it brings tears to my eyes.
‘You have definitely given me something to think about,’ I say. I wonder whether Mum and Dad would consider moving here after my quest is done—just for a while, until everything blows over.
As if sensing my concerns, Mender adds, ‘Of course, you would need to discuss it with your parents first.’
‘And whatever you decide, you must at the very least come back for a proper visit before you head back to the World Above.’ Keeper smiles and releases my hand. ‘We would love to spend more time with you, and I am sure everyone here would appreciate some more musical performances.’
There is a companionable silence while we finish our meal. Mender pours us each another cup of tea while Keeper shows me photos of the rest of the family. Through the window, I can see that the sun is well up in the sky, and I am forced to admit I can put my departure off no longer.
‘I wish I could stay another night with you both and get to know you better…,’ I start.
‘We understand. You are on a quest, and you must be heading out, for we are not the end of the journey, just a stop on the way.’ Mender’s face wrinkles with his smile.
They help me adjust my pack to better carry the lute, and Keeper insists I take some home-cooked pies with me, saying, ‘If you meet back up with your girl, these will surely help melt her heart.’
