Young Writers Society

Chapter Twelve: 

Forkroads~

It was dawn when Durthnõt came into view. The evergreens gave way to dying trees, then to sparser shrubbery. Sand blew onto the windowpane, creating small dunes against the glass.

The carriage rattled along the brick-paved path, jostling its inhabitants as they tried—and failed—to fall asleep. Elborn tossed and turned almost as much as the carriage tossed and turned for him, his blanket wrapped around his ankles like a noose. He stared at the inside of his eyelids, popping his eyes open every two minutes to stare at the ceiling. The blackness bothered him. Fidgeting, he turned onto his side to look at Garnet: she was curled up on the seat, fast asleep. Kelm was sitting facing her, his head bowed low as he snored. Malkolm was in the front portion of the carriage, and Elborn—he shifted onto his back and grunted—was lying on the floor.

He tapped his finger against the carpeted floor of the carriage, eyes flicking over to the small door that led to the driver’s area. Blinking lights streamed from underneath the door, changing colour as they danced on the floor in stroboscopic sequences. Elborn listened to the sound of the gears and the spurs as they jangled, although most of the noise was muffled by the layers of spells Malkolm had cast over the door before they had left the Meare.

It had not been easy to convince Elborn to call off the search. It had been even harder to reason with Garnet, who refused to allow her niece to scamper along on the mountain trails in search for an Ixister (‘who might very well be dead!’). Kelm had explained, patiently, that Arlene was caught up within a prophecy of old, if his interpretation of her dream was correct, although he was no expert, like Quixa was. There had been an argument: Elborn had yelled quite a bit, and Garnet had thrown a potted plant in Kelm’s direction. What if Arlene got hurt somehow? What if some mountain beast sliced her in half?

‘And you think you’ll be able to find her before she does get into trouble?’ Kelm had asked, calmly, sweeping up the fragments of the potted plant with his beard. ‘There is a truth within all prophecies, and a warning; I do not know if Arlene is truly the bearer of future events—important future events—but she has gotten herself tangled up in them, and the worst possible thing we could do is to interfere.’ His gaze had softened upon catching sight of Elborn’s anxious face. ‘She will be all right, old friend. Malkolm’—he threw the boy in question a quick glance—‘will keep an eye on her; his power over the Meare is not limited by distance, just as mine once was…’

Clearing his throat, he had continued, filling Elborn in on the details regarding the letter. He had told him how time in the eastern end of the Meargro Mountains appeared to run slower than time elsewhere, of how Arlene was definitely not alone, and of what they had seen and heard when they had Pryed in on her location.

Now, as Elborn played with the tassels on the rug he had wrapped around himself, he wondered how everything had come to be this way. The conversation he had had with Kelm replayed in his mind. Kelm’s words remained fresh and burning, although it had been a full day since they had stood atop the red house’s ledge, looking down upon the Meare. ‘My Arlene,’ he had said, when Kelm first told him of the prophecy. ‘Part of something like this? I mean, she is my blood so I shouldn’t be surprised, but … it couldn’t have been anyone but her?’

‘I promise she’ll be safe—Malkolm will keep you updated on her location every two hours or so, as is his responsibility, being Ixister of the Meare … and you will come with us, to Durthnõt.’

‘Why can’t I stay here, at the Meare? You do not require my services to aid the king.’

‘Oh, I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do.’

Elborn knew the truth was that Kelm did not trust him not to run after Arlene. He had seen it in his friend’s eyes, right before he diverted his gaze and began talking about the journey to his shoes, instead.

There was a creaking sound as Malkolm fiddled with the carriage’s controls. Elborn watched the sky outside the window as it lightened, the clouds iron-grey as they wafted past.

Deciding that there was no point in trying to sleep now, he got up slowly and rolled the rug up, careful not to step on Kelm’s feet as he left the room. The hinges creaked as he swung the metal door open, almost tripping over the thick mesh of wires that ran across the floor. He caught himself just in time, but ended up grabbing the doorhandle--the door swung towards him and hit him in the face. His nose collided with the cold metal doorknob. He groaned.

'You're making quite the habit of that,' Malkolm commented quietly. Elborn looked up at him and rubbed at his bruised cheek. Lights hung all around the room, but somehow they seemed dimmer, less blinding than when he had covertly observed them from underneath the door. But even in the shoddy lighting, Elborn could tell that Malkolm's face had contorted into a sneer.

Elborn's hackles rose upon seeing the condescending look fixed so firmly to the young Ixister's face, but he forced himself to keep things pleasant. For Arlene's sake. After all, this boy was his only connection to the Meare--to her.

I'll be mostly pleasant anyway, he thought, half-frowning.

'It's all your bloody door's fault,' he said. It sounded a little harsh, so he continued lightly, 'It seems to have it in for me. Though I cannot for the life of me understand why that would be.' Elborn tilted his head back slightly as his nose pricked; he could feel the blood trickling down his nasal cavity and it was not a pleasant sensation. He dabbed at his nose with his sleeve. Malkolm shook his head with distaste and turned back to the controls.

Elborn looked around for a place to sit, before remembering that there were no seats in the control room. The carriage was one of the earlier prototypes of his WAGON, which was currently lying disassembled in Kelm's attic. Elborn remembered the amount of trouble he had had driving around in this carriage, having to steer while standing upright, so he was surprised to see that Malkolm was having absolutely no problems at all. He flicked a hand and the controls danced, the lights along the walls changing colour faster than a hyperactive aurora.

The gears and cogs along the walls were all visible to the eyes, engarvments covering the floor to bind the magical and the mechanical together. Like the rest of the carriage, this room, too, had walls of wood, although you could barely see them with all the lyte-fixtures that stuck out of every available surface. The only place that didn't have any lyte-fixtures sticking out of it was the large, circular window at the front of the carriage. The road, Elborn could see, wound up a hill, and rocks and pebbles bounced into the front of the carriage as it trundled along.

Elborn watched the path for a while, then sat down on the floor. He cleared his throat. 'I wish to see my d--my niece. Kelm said you'd keep me updated on ... well...' The path was rather steep now, and Elborn noted with satisfaction the beads of sweat clinging to Malkolm's forehead. He grunted as the carriage tilted slightly to the left, then the path levelled out and he looked at Elborn over his shoulder.

'Certainly,' he said, his tone biting. 'Would you like to have a cup of tea with that?'

'Well, if you wouldn't mind...' Elborn grinned at Malkolm; the boy narrowed his eyes and whipped back to the controls, muttering an incantation as he did. The engarvments all along the floor flashed silver, then slowly faded back to black.

‘A Holding spell,’ Elborn noted. ‘Why didn’t you cast it before?’ Malkolm crossed the length of the floor towards Elborn and sat down in front of him, as gracefully as always.

‘I am untrusting of a spell to drive us along a road as tortuous as this,’ he said, reaching into his heavily embroidered robes and drawing out a mirror. The glass was oddly shaped, like a star with only three points, but its frame was ornate and painted gold. Malkolm flicked at the mirror’s surface and it glowed, the bright orange light casting harsh shadows across his face. He flicked at the mirror again; this time, his blond hair rose in a non-existent breeze around his temples.

‘Show-off,’ Elborn muttered, but not too quietly that he couldn’t be heard. Malkolm spared him an annoyed glance before returning to the mirror.

‘I’ll be needing some more information on your niece,’ Malkolm said, now drawing spiral patterns on the mirror. 'My powers are unaffected by distance, but it becomes easier to focus on someone's consciousness if you are familiar with it. So, go ahead'--he placed the mirror, now gleaming silver, between them--'enlighten me.'

'Why did you agree to this?' Elborn asked. The question had been burning at him for a while now, and despite his earlier resolution to be pleasant to the Ixister, he was too curious to let it alone. Malkolm had not appeared to care much about helping any of them as recently as yesterday, but he had been the first to offer to drive the carriage, the person who dealt with all the protection charms around the Meare before they left and who was being oddly agreeable even now.

Malkolm raised a pale eyebrow; he had obviously not been expecting Elborn to ask him something like this.

'I have my reasons,' he said calmly. 'As stupid as your niece might be, the fact of the matter is that prophecies are important--oh, lose the smugness, your niece isn't that important. The prophecy might not relate to her at all,' he snapped. 'And aren't you supposed to be worried about her, rather than proud?'

'I am worried,' Elborn growled. 'Don't you think for a second that I'm not—but she's brilliant, Arlene is, and I know'—he said this with more conviction than he felt—‘that she'll be logical and use her common sense, like I've taught her to. No—wait.' He raised a hand to stop Malkolm, who had opened his mouth to retort, from speaking. 'If I wasn't worried, do you really think I'd be here begging you to let me see my niece? All I want to know,' he continued doggedly, 'is why you're suddenly being so ... so affable.'

Malkolm leered at him. 'That is none of your business,' he said levelly. 'If you wish to see your niece, I need a brief history—a brief history, no riff-raff.' He tapped the mirror and looked at Elborn expectantly. 'Begin.'

Elborn glared at Malkolm, but heaved a deep breath in and began to speak.