I've preceded by comments with a "//" in your story, Ive done the first 2 chapters and may do more chapters later on, or tomorrow.
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The day of the fête arrived. On the previously day most of the tents had been put up, the children had never seen so many people at the house before and got in the way of setting up a big tent, two boys chased them away to the house. The gypsies helped put up the stalls and someone said they had seen a dragon egg, which probably was not true.
//I find this a nicey nicey start, which may be good however it doesn’t wow me.
By late afternoon the garden was out of bounds for the young apprentices, they had supper in the dining room with the Penton and Jones kids who had always travelled with the circus. The room was louder than usual, Sebastian and Blake left early. They sat on the Horseshoe and watched as various daimons flitted around the house and drive.
//I like this part, it gives a little insight into the story and arouses questions, which can only be answered by reading on.
“One of the Penton kids said the fortune-teller’s not coming until tomorrow, they had to set up her tent though, and I didn’t go near it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It seemed a little… spooky.”
“You silly goose, it’s only a stupid tent.” Blake laughed. “You’ll be telling me pigs fly next!”
Sebastian thought she sounded quite mean, he didn’t say anything because she always spoke her mind. Dylan, an apprentice Sebastian did not know very well, had been once been upset because Blake called him pigeon.
//Again this part is useful because it allow us to know more about Blake’s personality.
Sebastian woke to the sound of excited chatter. The other three boys, John, Byron and Percy were already getting dressed. He lay on his back for a while and then went to wash in the bathroom. On the other landing the girls were giggling and squealing. On the second floor of the main house were four large rooms, the first room was occupied by Dylan, Bartholomew, William and Eliot, the room next to that was Sebastian’s. On the other side was the girls’ bedroom, Shelley, Christina and Carroll got on well, it was when Blake had stayed there when all the trouble had started.
//ARRR character overload, I think the introduction of characters here maybe a little cluttered.
The last room was occupied by Blake, since her accident the master had not allowed her to return to the girls’ bedroom.
He didn’t spend much time in the bathroom, today was a busy day and Mister Tull said the apprentices were to greet people at the gates and show them to the garden. In the bedroom his suit was laid on a chair. The white shirt was crisp and felt warm against his skin, a bow tie with a button was attached to his collar and the black trousers fitted well. His new shoes were polished and he found it hard to walk in them. Mister Tull came into the room and brushed the boys’ hair and slicked them in a style like his own.
“Now, gentlemen, you may make your way downstairs.”
One behind the other the boys followed Mister Tull down the stairs and out the front door. The gates were closed, a banner was floating in mid-air and flapped in the light breeze, no one had yet arrived: it was only half past nine.
“Pova, Souk, open the gates.” A small gesture from the sphinx and the gates squeaked open. The boys stood in two lines: ready to welcome the public. The girls came to join them and were whispering and giggling. They wore frocks of linen with short fluttery sleeves: Shelley in black, Carroll in red and Christina in blue, they had done something with their hair and their cheeks were glittered. Blake was not among them.
“Girls, you look beautiful.” There was a fit of giggles from the girls. “Where is Blake?”
“She’s still upstairs, sir,” Christina said. “I’ll get her.” A few minutes later she returned with Blake following after her, by which time a small group was shaking hands with Mister Tull and the other apprentices.
The first people were led to the garden by William; they were nervous and kept on looking over their shoulders. More people arrived and each group were guided by an apprentice.
Blake was wearing a silvery-grey frock with double layers of chiffon over the skirt and at the short sleeves, her sausage curls bounced with each step she took and her face was pinched as if she had just smelt something bad. She strode towards the master with her arms folded.
//The mention of “frock” confuses be because in England a frock means a lady’s dress.
“Mister Tull, do I have to wear a dress?” her brow was beginning to show lines of a frown forming.
The master laughed. “Yes, of course, my dear. You do look ever so pretty.”
“It may be pretty but I can’t run or climb trees without getting it dirty.”
Sebastian tried to catch Blake’s eyes but she was standing with the master who was now addressing a man and his children. “Ah, Mr Montale. I’m glad you could make it. Hello Leo, Delia and Marcus.” The cook’s husband and children smiled faintly at the master, they were all dark haired and lean. “Blake will take you around to the garden.”
Sebastian stared back at the three Montale children. The girl Delia was probably the same age as him and the two boys were much taller and older. He smiled shyly. “Go on, Blake, take them around. You do remember Blake, don’t you Mr Montale.” Mister Tull said. The man replied with a nod.
Sebastian went after them with his own group, two old ladies and three young boys. Bartholomew and Christina gave out maps of the fête to everyone who passed them and smiled as best they could.
Blake was still with the cook’s family. The man was speaking to her about something to which she replied uncertainly and looked towards Sebastian. He called her over but she ignored him, turning her attention to the man again.
It was nearly half-past ten when the master called for attention. He stood on stage with the band of troubadours behind him, they played a merry tune and the crowd gathered around the stage. The apprentices took their places by their master, waiting to be introduced.
Among the crowd there were not many magicians. They kept to one side with the servants at the back, the gypsies on the right and the general public taking up the rest of the space.
//Again more introduction of your world steadily allows me to understand.
“Ladies and gentlemen, magicians and daimons, I would like to welcome you all to the Weir House Fête.” A round of applause from the crowd. “I know it was not possible to have the fête for the last two years but I do hope you all will enjoy it as much as I love being your host.
//I am slightly confuses, what are daimons?
“Before we begin I will introduce my apprentices, I am sure you have seen them giving out leaflets in town recently.
“My eldest apprentices are William, Carroll, Dylan and Christina.” The four apprentices stepped forward and bowed or curtseyed, the crowd clapped. “Next we have Percy, Shelley, John and Bartholomew.” There was another set of curtseys and bows and applause from the audience.
“And finally we have Byron, Eliot, Sebastian and Blake.” This time there was only three bows. Blake rolled her eyes and did a quick curtsey followed by a bow. Someone from the crowd laughed but it was soon washed away with the last round of applause.
//!!!! Oh I’m so sorry, I thought Blake was a boy up until this point, perhaps make it a bit more clear?
Sebastian knew a few of the magicians who were willing to attend the fête. There was Ms Harket who was accompanied by a teenage girl, she winked at him and he blushed. Also to arrive were the Penny House apprentices with their master, Mister Lewis. Ms Manzes and her friend Cecilia Dawn were present and so were Tobias Dream, Sarah Hawkins, Guy Wolfe and a few of Sebastian’s tutors.
“… that is not all.” The master was saying. “The gypsies are giving horse rides and selling all sorts of household goods. There will be performances from the gypsies and the open circus and our special guests, the troubadours, will play sets of new and old tunes…”
The master continued speaking but Sebastian had lost interest when he saw the lead singer of the troubadours. She was a slender young woman with golden-brown hair down to her hips, some of it was braided with cream coloured ribbons, and she wore a long cream and black dress with sleeves that were tight at the arm and wide at the wrist.
The world seemed to watch her and even time itself stopped just for her. A harp began to play two or three notes, as each one lost its sound another pluck brought a new note to life. A lute and fife joined in playing their own tune, a violin, an oboe and panpipes were the final addition and a calm sensation had taken over throughout the crowd.
The sweet melody drifted through the air and someone beside him grunted with irritation and moved off the stage. Sebastian ignored them and smiled because the beautiful maiden began to sing.
Her voice was low, almost a whispering breath and as clear as a bell as her voice rose. She was singing not just in English but a mixture of Latin, French and a language that sounded like Egyptian but wasn’t Egyptian.
She sang about a forgotten world where life was sweet and full of love until its destruction by a foreign invader. She hummed to the tune as each instrument stopped their playing until it was only her humming that kept the lost music alive. Her hum became a soft sign. A silence followed when no one knew what to do. The spell was broken and the crowd, Mister Tull and the apprentices clapped enthusiastically and someone called for an encore.
The maiden smiled and curtseyed low.
“Thank you, Helena. Everyone that was the troubadours!”
The crowd departed going off to whatever stall that interested them. There large tents with bright coloured sign posts, small tents with strange noises and unseen wonders, fire-eaters and jugglers, jesters and a woman with a beard that trailed to the ground. There were musicians who moved from place to place, a man who pulled coins and eggs from behind people’s ears and a rabbit that changed colour, the owner assured the crow it was not a daimon of any sort.
On stage Sebastian was lost, he didn’t know where to go first and Blake had run off somewhere. Only now did he saw how small the garden looked with the fête running.
*
Daimon – Spirits of air and fire: jinni, water: kappas and earth/underworld: gallas.
//I guess my question was answered here.
//Overall a good start with a paced introduction of the world and the characters, the characters seem 3D and believable and not some card board cut outs. However I would have liked a bit more action to start with and more conflict throughout. To captivate the readers attention I would prologue this or add a preceding action packed beginning to an otherwise fascinating story.
Monessa/Blake
Monessa looked uneasily around her. The tent was pitch black and the only light came from the flickering movement of the fireflies and from the glow of the fortune-teller’s Orb, the fortune-teller’s shadow was cast against the blackness, even darker than the tent itself.
//Now this is a nice beginning, a nice dark edge.
The fortune-teller sat back in her chair. A faint smile appeared on the woman’s face. She was tall even when she was sitting down and seemed ageless. She had large milky-grey eyes, thin fingers with long nails that rapped against the crystal ball in front of her and her clothes and hair was so black they emerged with her shadow.
She was not very pretty or ugly at all, she was someone you would forget very easily in a crowd but her voice which was both commanding and playful meant she was more than just an ordinary magician. There was something about her that would have frightened any that came to see her, but not Monessa.
Monessa frowned and swung her legs slowly. The woman had not answered her question yet, however rude it may have seemed.
“Why do you ask?” the fortune-teller said softly.
Monessa hesitated and twiddled her fingers. She had never felt so nervous before, even in front of the master. “Because,” she began. The woman leaned forward to hear her reply. “A lot of people think I’m blind, when they first meet me. My eyes are clear and grey like yours. ‘Two orbs of ice’, someone once said. They’re just like yours.” Her throat had gone try and her voice croaked.
//This also arouses questions, I enjoy this part better than chapter one because of the edge added and the inner conflicts introduced.
The woman smiled slightly as if she knew who had said it. “To answer your question, yes, I am blind. But I do not need sight to see what I see now.” She reached out across the table and took Monessa’s hand in her own. Her fingers scanned across her palm as if searching for something. “Hmm.”
“What is it? What do you see?”
“There is darkness; you are surrounded by it more than a person should be.” The claw-like fingers tightened their grip and then let them rest on the table. “I had a glimpse of a ring. A black ring with silver but I could not be sure.” The eyes widened and Monessa thought the woman had actually seen her, the hands worked their way to her face. The fortune-teller squeezed her cheeks playfully. “My, how soft your cheeks are.”
“Is that it? A load of rubbish about ‘darkness’ and a stupid ‘ring’? What kind of a fortune-teller are you? I don’t believe you can see the future, I know someone who can and he’s much better than you.” She pulled the woman’s hand away and rubbed her cheeks: the nails had dug into her flesh.
“Is that so?” The woman smiled from ear to ear, amused in a secretive way. If she was impressed she did not show it. “And who is this person?”
“My friend Sebastian, he has premonitions and found the skeleton of a cat in the labyrinth. You’re not worth 50p let alone a pound.”
// “fifty pence” would be better.
The woman laughed and didn’t seem insulted at all. “Really?” she asked and grinned as if she was highly amused by the sudden outburst.
“I’m called Blake for now, until my Initiation.”
“Alright Blake, I am Selene and I would like to meet this… friend of yours.” The fortune-teller tapped her fingers on the table and out of nowhere pulled out a card. The Queen of Hearts. A pair of eyes from behind the fortune-teller watched the card as it was turned down to reveal the Jack of Spades, another flip and the Joker appeared. “The Joker, in my deck of cards, represents depression. Are you unhappy?”
Monessa gasped. How had she know what card was in front of her? From its place on the fortune-tellers chair a raven cawed, flapped its wings and stood between Monessa and the fortune-teller, Selene.
Monessa curled her lips. “Your daimon told you what card it was; you’re not a real fortune-teller at all are you?”
//This seems extremely like Pullman’s Dark Materials. With Daimons and all. I also think the Raven is a tad clichéd, I aren’t sure why, it just seems to be that way.
“I am not a cheat, Blake. I cannot force the future to reveal itself to me whenever I chose. The future comes to me. I do know what is happening right now in the fête: your friend Sebastian is furious with you because you have not spoken to him since last night. You laughed at him and he thought you were quite unpleasant.” She paused, expecting Monessa to say something. “And that is not all; I know what you saw in the lake that day in spring not so long ago.”
//”choose” not “chose”
Monessa gulped; she had tried to forget what she had seen. If this woman knew about that did she also know the nightmares she had had since that horrible day? “You can’t know. I didn’t tell anyone, not even the master knows the truth.” She found her voice was shaking.
She got off the chair and drew away from the woman and her raven. She felt for the tent flap but she had not reached it yet, she took more steps backwards but with each step the opening edged further away. The woman watched her, she wasn’t blind at all, she had lied and someone must have told her about the lake accident.
“Did Carroll tell you? Did she tell you so you could tease me and laugh about it?” she tried to sound angry but her voice was high and her legs felt wobbly.
The fortune-teller stood up and strode towards her, the raven was perched on her shoulder, and her long black dress swept the grass as she walked towards Monessa. “She did not tell me, child. I knew it when I saw you last night, don’t ask me how, it is all quite complicated. You were watching from your window when I arrived. You’re the one who was born here, aren’t you?” A nod from Monessa. “I thought so, the master talks about you a lot.”
A squeal from outside made them both jump, the raven shifted into a small red squirrel and scurried away out of the tent. “Is it true, what you said, about Sebastian not liking me?” Monessa asked.
“Why don’t you find out?” Selene went back to her seat without looking back at Monessa. “Tell Sebastian to come and see me.”
“Alright, I will.” But once Monessa was outside in the summer sun she decided not to. Sebastian wouldn’t be mad at her; he knew she had only laughed because he had been spooked by the fortune-teller’s tent. It wasn’t even scary. Unlike the other tents the fortune-teller’s one was plain black and much smaller on the outside than when you went in.
Children of all ages ran from stall to stall and in and out of the tents while their parents glowered at them. She was so absorbed in her thoughts she did not see Ms Harket, they both collided and Ms Harket dropped her book, and papers fell out.
//You refer to Tull as “Mister Tull” with no abbreviation of Mister, perhaps you could do the same for all characters preceded with letters as opposed to first names.
“Blake!” she squawked. “Look where you are going, child!” A group of children nearby laughed. Ms Harket’s daimon, it was in the form of a teenaged girl, joined in and stopped when her mistress gave her a hard look. “Don’t just stand there, help me. Not you, Althea, I meant you Blake.”
Monessa was about to object but she knew Ms Harket would tell the master. Against her wishes she did as she was told, Ms Harket stalked off muttering under her breath. “To think such a child would be…”
“Annoying isn’t she?” Monessa said.
The daimon snorted. “You should try living with her.”
Monessa giggled. “No, thank you, I’d rather kiss a toad.” Althea shook her head and followed after her mistress. Daimons like Althea were better than the sphinxes, Pova and Souk, and Monessa hoped she would have a Guardian just like Althea. The group of children were pointing at her and whispering. “What?” she asked peevishly.
Immediately they stopped as if she had heard what they were saying. The oldest boy, Leo, who was at least fourteen, sneered at her. “We reckon that girl wasn’t really a girl, if you know what I mean.”
She looked at him closely. His shaggy hair fell over his eyes, just like Sebastian’s, and his face was spotty. “So what if she isn’t?”
She would have left it at that point if the boy hadn’t muttered ‘witch’. She clenched her hands into tight fists and approached the boy. “So what if Althea is a daimon? At least she isn’t as worthless as you; you’re just a cook’s boy.”
The boy coloured, the children behind him didn’t say anything...
//Why the elipses?
“I’m not a witch, so you can shove off, Leo Montale.” In anger she stomped off in search of Sebastian.
When she did find him he was by the candy floss stall with the other apprentices, the circus kids were still in costume even though their act did not start for another two hours, each of them had a rainbow variety of candy floss and Sebastian was talking to two girls in ridiculously frilly dresses. One of them attempted to pirouette in mid-air and her friend giggled when she fell flat on her face.
Monessa folded her arms and watched them. Notice me! She tried to get Sebastian’s attention but he didn’t see her or hear her mental command. He’s not telepathic, stupid!
“Fine!” she said to no one.
Of all the stalls in the fête there was one particular thing she wanted to try out: the Mystery Dip. The stall, or rather the table, was by the fortune-teller’s tent – there was already a queue of children and teenagers waiting anxiously for the process to quicken.
When Monessa approached the table Mr Balentrop’s apprentice grinned and squeezed her cheeks. Oliver Ewer was a boy of sixteen with long legs and arms, he had baggy trousers and a shirt with its top buttons missing and a beret was lazily slouched over one side of his head. His daimon fox was curled asleep on the ground. Monessa knew the young magician by a different name and it was this name she used now when she addressed him.
“Hallo, Crook.”
“Wot cheer, Blake? Ain’t yer growed and that’s a pretty dress yer got.”
“It’s not pretty. What’s in the Dip?” She nodded towards the black wooden chest on the table. The surface was smooth and she could feel the intricate flower design, a round hole with a door was filled with darkness as she tried to look through it.
Crook tapped the side of his nose. “This little beauty will pick out whatever is suited to the person what sticks their hands in. It only works once, though, so yer can’t come back for another go.”
Monessa considered for a moment. A few summers ago Dylan had pulled out a pixie; it had stay with him all the time, with much disapproval from the master. A few weeks later the pixie went into the garden and never returned. When Monessa related this to Crook he laughed.
“Yer can’t expect everything to last forever; Bellin’s contract ran out so she was free to leave. Even yer can’t stay at Weir House all yer life, once yer get your magician name and your daimon someone’ll come to take yer away, like. Mister Tull only looks after yer until the Oracle says who you ought to be with. I been with Mister Balentrop since I were eleven.”
//I aren’t sure if this character would say “Mister this” etc…
“I’ll be eleven next October.”
“Well then, yer might get a visit from the Oracle, yer just might.”
“What’s the Oracle like, Crook? What I mean is, is he or she like magicians or different?”
Crook laughed and slapped his leg as he sat on the table. “He or she? Lor! There’s more than one. Yer can’t expect there to be one Oracle in the whole o’ the world.” He let out a long whistle through his crooked teeth. “Boy, they’d have their work cut out!”
The boy Marcus was standing between the Mystery Dip and the fortune-teller’s, he was deciding which was better. “Come here kid, try out the Mystery Dip, yer might find somefink yer like.” The boy just stared at them. “Come and have a go, ‘tis only 40p.”
The boy neared towards them slowly and took out a 50p coin; Crook gave him his change and pushed the box forward. “Yer sticks your hand through this hole, see? And take out what yer find.”
//Again I would say “fifty pence”
Marcus put his hand through the hole; Monessa watched with interest and hoped he got something horrible like an imp or a crabby faery; she liked very few commoners and hated the kids and the adults who didn’t think much of magicians. Marcus took out a small glass bottle with dark red liquid in it.
“This here, is a potion, it’s not very effective so it don’t last very long but it’ll make anyone what takes it tell yer the truth. Just one drops all yer need, I don’t do refunds so yer can’t bring it back. Off yer go now.”
Marcus held the potion in one hand and walked off still looking into the liquid.
“As I was ‘bout to tell you, one o’ them Oracles is here at the fête.”
“Really?” Monessa’s eyes lit up. She had always wanted to meet the Oracle and now she would have a chance to meet one before any of the other apprentices.
“Yup. I seen her.”
“Where is she, then? I want to meet her.”
“No can do. If yer was to meet her, she’d have come to yer. They’re the sort who go when and where they’re needed so don’t go looking for her, I know what yer like.” Crook polished the top of his box. “40p if yer want a go.”
Monessa turned around and saw no one. “Who are you talking to?”
“Yer were thinking o’ having a go.” He held out a hand. “Whacha waitin’ for?”
She rubbed her palms and conjured two 20p pieces. She reached into the box and felt the soft velvet cloth inside, her hands explored around the box and found nothing. “I can’t find anything.” She was about to give up and ask for her money back when she felt something round and cold. She pulled out her hand and her mouth opened wide. It was a ring. A ring just as the fortune-teller had described: black with a silver s-shaped coil wound around the top.
“Oh. A ring. There’s never been jewellery before and quite nice too.”
She spun the ring around in one finger. “It’s far too big for my fingers; you can have it if you like.”
Crook shook his head. “Yer wouldn’t o’ got it if it were too big. Try it on.”
Monessa slid the ring into her middle finger, the silver seemed to glow for a minute, it was a perfect fit yet she did not like wearing it. “See, it fits perfectly.” Crook took up her hand and kissed her fingers.
“Don’t do that,” she said and blushed. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“Blake, where’ve you been?”
Monessa pulled her hand away from Crook and blushed again. “Around. Now that you’re here you can go the fortune-teller.”
Sebastian frowned. “I already saw her. She wasn’t very good though. Why are you two whispering?” When they didn’t answer he continued. “I brought you an ice cream, Blake, only I dropped it by accident when I tried looking for you.” He fiddled with his fingers and stared at both Crook and Monessa in turn, they both stared back at him. Shyness overcame Sebastian and he bent his head, letting his hair fall into his eyes.
Monessa walked up to him and pushed his hair back. “I still think you ought to get a hair cut. Come on, let’s go see the show.” They waved to Crook and raced to where the open circus was performing. If Monessa had looked back she would have seen the fortune-teller and Crook standing side by side talking in whispered voices.
**
Orb – A ball of light or one of the Elements.
Initiation/Initiate – When an apprentice is ten/eleven they receive their magician name and a Guardian.
Guardian – The most important daimon summoned by a magician to protect them their whole lives. Other daimons can be summoned on and off but a Guardian, once it is dead, cannot be replaced.
Oracle – A seer who predicts the future and appears at an apprentices Initiation to name them.
//Overall again a chapter however I feel it is also sparse on conflict, I would also smooth out Crook’s accent a little as it begun to annoy me, perhaps just change a few words instead of all of it to hint towards the accent.
//As for word choice everything seems to run smoothly and you haven’t tried to be clever by using big words and the flow of the piece is good.
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