Chapter 19

How I Got Cursed

The entrance to the castle is eerily quiet. Close up the rusted metal and cracks are clear. We pass under a huge portcullis and into a tunnel lit by strange floating balls of light.

“Look,” Alice says, pointing upwards. “They’re just like the lamp-lighters in Angelmere.”

The lights flicker and weave through the air, revealing patches of yellowing moss on the ceiling of the tunnel before moving on, plunging what was seen before into darkness.

At the end of the tunnel is a large wooden door with another smaller door set into it. I step forwards and knock with the big iron door knocker shaped like a leaf. Vines curl around its edge as if to strangle it. The metal is cold and unwelcoming on my fingers.

BOOM!

I jump as the sound of the knocker echoes around us, gradually fading to nothing.

Silence.

I knock again.

BOOM!

The sound fades once more and I turn to Alice. “What now?”

“Push?”

The door is heavy and I have to shove it hard with both hands - just like the door in my new room.

To my surprise, it swings open and cold air swirls out. I shiver, then place my fingers on the wood of the frame and step through.

The corridor beyond seems to go on forever. A pinkish carpet, frayed and worn, runs down the centre. Held in place by brass rods, it heads away from us into the endless black, the colour slowly being leeched from it the further away it gets until, now just a grey strip, the black swallows it whole.

Alice pulls a face. “Woah. Look at this place. What a dump!”

“Shh! What if they hear?”

She puts her hands on her hips and stares around. “It looks like no one’s lived here for a thousand years.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

We head down the corridor. It’s like walking on a treadmill. Stone pillars line either side, carved with strange swirling symbols that remind me of De Silva’s tomb.

We move past pillars, only for them to be replaced by other pillars that look identical. After a few minutes I stop. “Are we actually going anywhere?”

Alice takes her phone and shines it behind us. There’s no sign of the door, just endless black in both directions. “Looks like we’re going somewhere.”

As we begin walking again, I hear a noise like a cold laugh ripple from the darkness ahead. It rolls over me like a wave, freezing my bones.

Alice shields her mouth with her hand and leans in towards me. “I think you were right. I’ve got the strangest feeling we’re being watched.”

My scalp prickles. I look left and right but no one’s in sight.

As we head forwards once more, a breeze picks up sending goosebumps rippling down my arm. I tilt my head, listening.

“Alice, can you hear something?”

She puts a finger to her lips and nods.

Words float softly around us, carried from a long way off by the breeze:

Sorrow.

Tale.

Knights.

Them?

At first they seem like wind-whispers in the dark, but as we continue I get more and more certain they’re actual voices. Like many people all talking at once.

And then I hear our names.

“Is that one the Atkins child?”

“I believe so.”

“So that is Werdun.”

“Indeed. Old Man Sorrow has spun a good tale this time.”

“Yes, but are these two capable enough?”

“Doubtful. All mortals are weak and feeble.”

Fear curls its fingers around my heart. “Who are you?” I whisper, the words catching in my throat.

Giggles like the swish of cloth are the only answer.

We both draw our foils and warily edge forwards.

“He’s just like De Silva, the boy from the family of Adam, he can’t stand change.”

“Indeed not. I have a tear from the night he was told of the change of abode. I keep it in this silver locket. Old man sorrow has offered to pay me handsomely for it. But I will not part with it.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I hold my sword high. “I may have been like him once, but guess what? Change changes you. And I am not that person now.”

Alice comes to stand next to me and we cross our swords in the air. “We’re not afraid of what the future holds,” she says, her voice strong and fiery. It sends a jolt like electricity through me, surrounds me, comforts and strengthens me.

The pillars around us start to glow, the stone taking a shape and form. I blink to try and clear my vision, and when my eyes snap open once more we’re surrounded by lines of Fae archers, all dressed in golden armour, polished to the purest shine. Each holds a golden bow across their chests, but weirdly none of the bows seem to have a string with which to fire arrows.

The floor seems to slither beneath my feet.

The frayed pinkish carpet we’ve been walking on is knitting itself together, the holes healing like running a video in reverse. The pink deepens to a beautiful red. It thickens: raising us slightly from the floor, and gains a plush, velvety look.

My blood roars in my ears.

And then, the darkness ahead rolls back like cloth, revealing stone steps that lead to a dais.

A woman emerges from the deep black. Her robe is moonlight and pearls, her skin pale, like bone. She must be over six feet tall, her hair a deep red, and over one eye she wears a black, silken patch.

My heart flips. This can only be Romalesque, The Fae Queen.

She fixes me with her one blue eye, raises a long-fingered hand and clicks.

The release of pressure in my head and ears takes me by surprise and both me and Alice stumble forwards.

The darkness rolls back again, finally dissipating, revealing three ornate chairs on the dais. The middle is clearly the throne and to its left a beautiful woman lounges on a long, almost bed-like chair. Her dress is the night sky pin-pricked with stars, her eyes so black I feel I could fall into them and never get out again. Her face shows no flicker emotion, and only when she turns her eyes from mine do I realise I could not have broken her gaze, even if I’d wanted to.

I swallow against my dry throat and try to breathe deeply.

Free now to look around, my pulse hammers as I take in the last person on the dais. I recognise him at once as the The Fae I saw in The Cut the night De Silva disappeared. Haldjas Palgamor. The head of the queens elite rangers, The Ansyn Gärd.

Alice gasps beside me and steps forward. “Sir De Silva!”

My head twists towards her. “Where?”

As one the Fae arches turn. With one hand their bows come down and with the other they pull at a yet unseen string. Golden arrows shimmer out of nowhere all pointed at Alice.

“Stop! I implore thee.”

My head snaps up back to the dais.

I’d not seen him before. His fencing whites are ripped, bloodied and dirty. He has a black eye and is chained to a stone post at the side of the dais. My stomach drops.

“Do not move my good knights.” His voice sounds thick, his words slightly slurred. “You should not have come. She…”

“Silence!” The queen’s voice is a whip-crack.

De Silva’s head goes down and a small sob escapes him.

Palgamor shoots him a withering glance then steps forwards. “Give your command my Queen. Shall we kill these two intruders now.”

Cold fills me from head to toe.

The Queen stares down at us.

I wait, unable to move; the beating of my heart and Alice’s short, quick breaths loud in the pin-drop silence.

Eventually the queen raises her chin. “No…not yet. If you are, as Sorrow claims, the two he foresaw then perhaps you will be of some use as a new cycle begins again.” She flicks a bone-white hand dismissively towards De Silva. “Every end is a beginning. Is it not Sir Darren?”

De Silva’s head stays down. “Yes, your majesty.” He shifts slightly, rattling the chains and I feel Alice bristle beside me.

“Easy, Alice,” I whisper.

Her eyes flick to me full of emotion and something passes between us that I can’t describe but yet steels my heart. De Silva’s inaction has brought him to this. We need to act, and fast. If what Old Man Sorrow said was true, De Silva only has until tomorrow.

I sheath my foil. Alice waits a moment longer, her eyes flicking between me, De Silva, and the archers. Then she sighs and puts her foil away.

As one the Fae archers lower their bows, the golden arrows fading to nothing in the dark air.

The Queen smiles a smile that makes my blood run cold. “A wise choice. Perhaps you will be useful.”

“Do not do this!” De Silva cries out.

In one quick step the Queen moves towards him and slaps him across the face with the back of her hand. It sounds like a wet fish hitting concrete and I wince.

“Stop!” Alice cries, her voice thick with emotion.

The Queen turns to us. “Let me show you what happens to those who fail me.”

She waves her hand and a cruel, curved, ornate silver dagger appears in it. The handle as white as her skin. Palgamor strides across the dais and grabs De Silva’s right arm. He stretches it outwards then places his boot on De Silva’s fingers. De Silva grunts in pain.

My stomach twists and I feel heat prickle across my shoulders and down my back.

The Queen lifts the knife and holds it up to the light where it glints. “A knight without a sword hand is no knight at all wouldn’t you say.”

The Queen raises her hand.

The dagger glints in the light.

Alice gasps.

“Stop!” I yell. “I’ll take his curse. I’ll bring you your eye.”

The words have left my mouth even before I know I’ve said them. They hang in the air.

The Queen turns to me, her one eye sparkling. “And why would I trust this to a lone child?”

“He’s not alone.” Alice’s voice is clear and strong. She steps in close to me and we stand shoulder to shoulder.

A flush of pride runs through me. I breathe deeper, stand taller.

My eyes meet Alice’s. There’s strength in her; it flows into me, surrounding my bones.

“You don’t have to do this,” I say.

“No, I don’t.” Her fingers find mine, squeeze once then let go. “But I want to.”

The Queen stares down at us then nods to Palgamor. He stands, his moonlight hair flowing around his shoulders then spreads his arms wide. “Another strange tale of The Shadow Time. Not told in prose but told in rhyme.” He bows. “Do you accept the contract?”

Again, the sound of tinkling glass fills the air.

“We do,” we say together.

Palgamor clicks his fingers, and the sound fades away.

A bell tolls somewhere in the distance.

As one, the Fae archers turn.

The queen steps down from the dais. “A new cycle has begun. It is time to drink, to dance, to eat.”

I point to De Silva, then bow to Romalesque. “Will you release him your majesty?”

She laughs. “When you return.”

“But…”

She takes a step towards me, and I freeze. “We Fae always honour the contracts we enter into.” She stares down her nose at me. My skin crawls, but I hold her gaze. Her one eye narrows. “Unlike you pathetic mortals. Unlike him.” She flicks her head towards De Silva. “Guards, take him away.”

Two archers break from the group and head towards the dais.

Alice springs past them up the steps, runs to De Silva and throws her arms around him.

I can hear her sobs from here.

His chains clank and he moans as he pats her gently on the back, then the two archers are there. They shove Alice roughly to one side, unchain one end of De Silva’s shackles and lead him away to the side of the dais and out through a small arched doorway.

He strains against his chains, pulls back into the room for a second. “Do not do this for me. Save yourselves!” Then the chain tightens, and he’s yanked through the archway and out of sight. The door shuts firmly followed by the heavy thunk of a bolt being drawn.

My heart back flips in my chest.

Alice runs to me, tears in her eyes. “Brad…”

I try a smile. “We’ll save him. Don’t worry.” I turn to Romalesque. “Promise me one thing. That you’ll treat him well until we return.”

A cruel smile touches her lips. “You mean if you return.”

“No,” I say. “I mean when.”

The queen raises her eyebrows. “He will not be harmed. But should you not return one week to this day, I cannot guarantee his safety longer than that.”

Alice presses her lips tightly together, her hands balled into fists.

Romalesque offers her hand to Palgamor who takes it lightly and leads her towards a large wooden door that has mysteriously appeared behind us.

I frown. “Was that…”

Alice’s voice wavers as she speaks, the words thick in her throat. “I don’t think so.” Her eyes flick to the door through which De Silva was taken.

I tap her arm lightly. “Remember what you told me?”

She wipes her eyes. “What?”

“Forwards to get back.”

As Palgamor and Romalesque approach the door two guards throw it open. Beyond is a woodland glade at night, set with tables laden with food. Sweet music floats through and tugs on my heart and all my fear, all my worry, it all gets swept up and carried off by the melody that swirls and rises.