Story: Part Three

(Find Part One Here, and Part Two Here.)

 Hazel had slept badly and woke early when the sun came through the window. She didn't know if the watery sunlight was because, as the physicists had suggested, the sun was weaker here, or if it was just winter. They had left at the height of summer but she hadn’t felt warm since she’d arrived. She looked out of the window and saw the yard below had turned to mud overnight. The rain had stopped now, but people were still moving around in large coats. She got dressed and repacked her bag. She wasn’t sure if anyone had gone through it, but her hope was that if it was neatly packed, she’d notice if they did.

The General had walked her back to her room the previous evening after sharing his magic with her. Part of her brain was still trying to work out how he did it, but if it was an illusion he gave Paul Daniels a run for his money. Once he had seen her inside she had waited for the click of the lock, but it never came. She had waited a couple of minutes to be sure he'd gone before opening the door. Either he didn't know that they'd been locking her in, or had forgotten. She felt better knowing the door hadn’t been locked from the outside, but she couldn't lock it from the inside. She’d rammed a chair under the handle like she'd seen in movies, or possibly cartoons, which made her feel better. She removed it now and quietly opened the door. Everything was quiet. She was sure the servants were busy below stairs, but not a whisper up here. She tiptoed down the corridor to Robin’s room and tapped at the door.

“Roro, it's me.”

He opened the door a crack to check before opening it enough to let her in. His hair was mussed up but he looked alert, like he’d been awake for a while. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I was.” She shrugged. “But we can't change it, so we move on. I’ve been mad at you before, I’ll probably be mad at you again. But we’re still friends.”

“When have you been mad at me before?” He sat on the edge of the bed.

“When you snogged James Bishy at the year 11 disco. You knew how much I liked him.”

“Well, you dodged a bullet there because it was not a good kiss. And he spent weeks following me around. If anything, I did you a favour.”

She smiled slightly. “Just promise you won’t do it again.” 

“Easy. I promise I won’t snog James Bishy again.”

She frowned. “You know what I mean.  Promise you won’t glamour me again.”

He chewed his lip. “I promise that, unless it is absolutely necessary, I won't glamour you.”

She cocked her head. “ ‘Absolutely necessary’?”

He nodded. “We're not at home, things don't work the same way here. Words have power. I don't think I can break a promise, but if anything were to happen… if I hadn’t helped you after we came through the pillar you might have been sick for longer. Or worse.”

“Why do you think that?”

He gestured to the rest of the bed. She hadn't noticed it was covered in bits of paper, some looked old, maps on brown paper, and some looked new. There was a notebook with a WHSmith logo on it. “Yama gave me a pack of stuff that was meant to help.” He picked up the notebook. It was full of handwriting belonging to several different people, but she didn't understand the script.

“What does it say?”

“A lot of things. It looks like she got loads of people to contribute. People's memories about this place, where it was safe, what can be eaten. I can't read it all yet but I'm piecing it together.” He put the notebook down carefully.

“Why did Yama choose you? I thought she was just an old friend of the family. What was this House of Mor…Mar…”

“Moeric. They were the ruling house of where my parents came from. A bit like the Duke is here.” He mumbled the next bit.

“”What?”

“And I'm the only male heir, and youngest of the line. The only one that she thought was fit to do this. The only one who believed her.”

“So you're like a prince? You should mention it more often. You’d get laid more.”

“I wouldn't go that far.” He looked a bit embarrassed. “We’re a distant branch of the family tree.”  

“Who she sent to take back the family lands.” She looked at the documents on the bed and spotted a large map. “Is that where we're going?”

Robin pulled it towards them. It was beautifully hand-drawn, features and populations carefully labelled and at the top was a castle carefully labelled and decorated in gilt. 

“I think we’re down here,” he pointed at where a black square had been marked by a small symbol. “That's the Stone but this is marked as a farm. I expected the map to be out of date but I don't know by how much. I'm hoping the roads haven't changed that much.” 

“The mountains will still be there at least.”

Robin nodded. “We’ll have to get through them.”

“Is that the sea?” The landmass they had located the pillar on was separated from their destination by a wide stretch of water. Hazel was glad to see that there was no ‘here be monsters’ drawn on it.

“Yes. We’ll have to find passage on a  boat or something to get across.”

There was a sharp knocking on the door that made them jump. 

“Quick, hide, behind the door.” He hissed at Hazel, while trying to cover up the papers on the bed. “Hold on,” he called out in Elvish. She didn't have time to argue and was barely in place when the door opened.

“Where is the girl?” The General demanded, as he barged in.

“Which girl?”

“Hazel. She's not in her room. She's in danger. You're both in danger.”

Hazel couldn't follow what was being said but Robin unconsciously glanced over at where she was hiding. The General saw him look and turned around.

“You need to get out of here. I overheard the Duke, he's found some foretelling, a prophecy, and thinks you two are a key part in it.” He dropped Hazel's pack on the floor. “I'm going to get you out of here and back to the stone so you can go home. Be ready to leave when I return.” He turned and left, long coat swishing behind him before they could ask any questions. Hazel shut the door behind him.

“Fuck.” Robin broke their stunned silence and started folding all the papers on the bed. “Fuck.” He repeated.

“What are we going to do?”

“We need to leave now, or I do. You can wait here for him to take you back to the pillar and go home. I didn't bring you here to get you killed two days in.”

“I know, I thought we’d last at least a week.”

“This isn’t funny, El.”

“I know. I'm not going home though. We can strike out from the pillar if he gets us there, or tell him where we’re…”

“No! I don't need help from a Tallese, especially not that one.”

“He can't be that bad, he is trying to help us.”

There was a knock at the door but it opened immediately. The General frowned but Robin was packed.

“I have horses, but it won't be too long until you two are missed.” He hurried them out of the room, but paused to lock it behind them before leading them away. He had a long stride and Hazel almost had to jog to keep up. He led them out of the house by a side door. Three horses were waiting. They seemed massive to Hazel. Robin walked up to one with his hand out, letting the horse smell him before resting his forehead against the horse’s.

“Come on,” the General said gruffly. Robin swung himself into the saddle easily. “Do you need help mounting?” he asked Hazel.

“I'm not very good with horses. I never…we didn’t… I can ride a cow.” Hazel managed to get out.

The General looked confused. “I will help you up, just hold onto the saddle.” He gave her a boost and she sat awkwardly. “Just hold on tight here,” the General patted the pommel at the front. He uncoiled a thin rope from his saddle and attached it to the bridle of her horse. He mounted and looked back at her. “Keep close, sit tall.”

“And try not to fall off.” Robin added. The General shot him a sharp look.

“Since when did you become a master horseman, anyway?” Hazel asked Robin.

“I was seeing a horsey girl a while back.”

“So she taught you?”

“No. I told her I could ride, read a book and blagged it. Fell off quite spectacularly the first time out too.” The General snorted. “Never done anything stupid for someone you liked?” Robin asked.

The General ignored the question. “Just keep quiet until we’re out of the keep.” He clicked his tongue and their horses started walking. Hazel tried not to look down. The horses had seemed huge from the floor, but they seemed even bigger now she was sitting on one.  She gripped the front of the saddle as she’d been told. 

They crossed the yard and no one paid them any attention. It was suspiciously quiet in fact, and she wondered if the General had kept his men out of the way or created some kind of diversion. They passed through the outer wall, between the heavy looking gates. In the daylight Hazel noticed that there were marks on them; deep gouges and scorch marks that she hadn’t seen on their arrival. She tried to draw them to Robin's attention, but that meant she had to let go of the saddle with one hand. She didn’t immediately fall off which she was pleased about. Robin looked at the marks and nodded. The General had said last night the area around the castle was dangerous, but it looked more like an organised attack rather than wild animals. Unless of course those animals could breathe fire…

“We should speed up.” The general broke her train of thought. “You can stay sitting but you'll be more comfortable rising. Heels down, back straight and when you feel the horse rise, stand, and sit as they lower.”

Hazel gave Robin a worried look, but the General kicked his horse and hers hurried to catch up. She did try to do what he said but it didn't make sense. Dear old Daisy had never moved like this.

“You're off beat,” he said looking at her. “Sit down for two bumps and try again.”

She did as she was told and it was slightly less uncomfortable. She was going to feel it in the morning though. Her usual exercise routine was walking to the coffee shop on her lunch break. The General gave her a satisfied smile and went back to looking around them. Hazel did the same. The castle was in a forest. The trees had been cleared from near the walls but otherwise it was surrounded. The road they were on was well used, so even though they were leaving tracks there were many others for theirs to blend in with.

They slowed as they came to a crossroads. There was a signpost and Hazel recognised one of the destinations from Robin’s map. The General appeared to be listening for something in the woods. She saw Robin check his map and dismount. She dismounted too, but she landed awkwardly and fell over. The horse whickered and danced sideways away from her.

“What are you doing? The gate is still some way off.” The General steered his horse towards them.

“We're not going home,” Robin said as he pulled Hazel to her feet. “Thanks for getting us out though.”

“You cannot be serious. There will be search parties all over these roads. You won't make it far on foot, and that's it nothing else finds you first.” He looked around at the trees again.

“Well, we'll stay off the roads for a bit. Horses don’t exactly have silent running. We can lie low when they get close.”

“They’re your men, can't you just order them not to look, or look elsewhere or something?” Hazel asked.

“Any interference on my part might seem like I was helping you escape, and that would be treason.”

“But you are helping us escape! What happens if they catch you? How were you going to explain our disappearance this morning? All those people saw us leave with you.”

“No one saw us leave this morning, I guarantee it. I will get back before absence is discovered. I will lead the search but there will be nothing to find. Rhasplund is a wasteland. There is nothing to find but dead rock. Don't throw away your lives for it, because if you are found that is what you will have done.”

“El can go back, but I have to see for myself.” Robin shifted his backpack.

“I said I would come with you, so I will,” she insisted.

Three short, sharp horn blasts sounded in the distance. Hazel and Robin looked back the way they’d come and then at the General. He said something sharply in Elvish, Hazel guessed he swore.

“You’ve been discovered missing. That was the Huntmaster. They'll be leaving any moment.”

“Then you’d best get back now.” Hazel said.

“It's too late.” He looked pale.

“Then come with us.” Hazel looked over her shoulder at Robin, who didn't seem happy about her offer but he shrugged at her. “I can guess the outcome of treason charges if you're found guilty, so why not take a chance with us?”

“Potential death over almost certain death.” Robin said. It was Hazel’s turn to look unhappy  at him. She didn't want to use the ‘D’ word, it felt like she was catastrophising, although that was often the penalty for treason in a lot of cultures as far as she knew, and if it was against your own brother she doubted they went easier on you.

“Get back on your horses.”

Robin gave her a boost before leaping on his own horse. In the distance they could hear the faint sound of dogs barking.

“We're going to ride very hard. Sit tight and hold on.” The General kneed his horse and they seemed to go from stationary to galloping. They had gone down the road Robin had wanted to. It was still a wide road but seemed less used than the one they had been on. Hazel copied the others and bent over her horse's neck. The trees rushing past made her feel sick so she closed her eyes but that made her wobble and lurch to the side.

“Eyes open. Look between the horses ears at where you're going,” the General snapped. They were riding for their lives and he was still giving her a lesson. She looked straight ahead and it wasn't great but it was better.

The trees thinned a bit and the General ordered them to pull up.  He led his horse off the path, Hazel’s still attached to his and following behind. The ground dropped down into a riverbed which they entered. Hazel could feel her horse's feet shift on each step as the pebbles on the bed moved under their weight. The river was wide and shallow, the horse’s feet splashed with each step.

“Is this not a bit noisy?” Robin asked in a low voice.

“The water will mask our scent from the dogs. We need to get out far enough downstream that they won't find it by spreading out here. I think we have enough time for this little noise.”

Robin made a noise to suggest he didn't think much of the General’s timing, given he’d miscalculated when they would be discovered missing, but didn't say anything.

Eventually they left the river and walked through the woods. They dismounted and had to lead the horses because the branches were so low they threatened to knock them out of their saddles. Hazel was having trouble stopping her horse from eating everything as they passed. Suddenly the wood stopped and they were standing beside a road.

“Should we be here? Won’t the riders be checking the roads?” Hazel could feel the panic rising in her throat.

“It doesn't meet the roads we were on, it will take time for them to get here. There's a village ahead but we’ll skirt around it.”

“Wouldn’t that raise suspicions? Wouldn’t we be better just passing through like everybody else?”

“No. These are good horses and they’ll be remembered if anyone asks. We won't be seen going around. We'll have to stop and rest the horses soon if we want to move at speed again this afternoon. If we did that there, people would notice that you were… different. Even if they don’t know that Antelé is after you, they might decide that you could be of interest to someone, for their own financial gain.”

“What's the name of the village? We’ve come away from the road on the map.” Robin was pulling out his map from a bag.

“I know where you want to go, and I doubt this village is on that map of yours. When we stop for the night we can consult it and see how much use it is to us.” 

They did stop for lunch to give the horses a break. They’d left in a rush so no one had a chance to pack supplies but the General found some sort of field rations in his bag. He wasn't sure how long they’d been there but was happy to share. Robin had actually packed some useful kit in his bag, he produced some flasks they could fill with water. They sat in a small clearing, the General seemed slightly more relaxed as they sat around listening to the horses eat some browse he had found for them.

“So, what do we call you?” Robin asked. 

“Sorry?”

“You have a name we can call you, I assume. I'm not going to be calling you General Gosht all the time. You're not my commander.”

“I see.” 

“It doesn't have to be your true name, obviously. And Antelé might have people listening out for that name.” Hazel jumped in.

“You don't get to keep your rank if you commit treason either, of course,” the General said quietly.

Hazel looked horrified. “You saved us from who knows what. You could have just got on your horse and gone out on patrol until Antelé had done whatever he was going to do to us, without looking back and returning when he was done.”

“I would have had to have been gone for a long time.”

Hazel tried not to think about the images that sentence conjured up. “But if he would take your title for saving our lives then maybe it wasn't a good title. Yes, you had to save us but we want you to think of us as your equals, not your men at arms to boss about. We have our own skills and stuff to bring to the group, probably…”

The General was silent for a while. Hazel was sure that the longer he was silent the more likely he was to get up and leave them.

“Mika. You can call me Mika. It was my father's name. There aren’t many people who refer to me by something other than my rank.” 

She put her hand over his. “Thank you, Mika. I'm sorry that helping us has caused your life to change so much.”

He squeezed her hand back. “I'm not sure I'm sorry.”

Robin cleared his throat. “I'm going to go and check the road or something.” He practically ran from the small area where they were sitting.

“I should check the horses. We need to move soon.” Mika got up too. 

Whatever moment they had been sharing was gone. She brushed down her jeans as she stood. “What can I do?”

“I thought you said I wasn't to give you orders?”

“I’m asking for a job, not being ordered to do it. There's a difference. I don't know what needs to be done.” 

“Packs need packing, water topping up…”

Robin burst through the trees. “There’re riders coming this way!” 

“What sort of riders?” Mika demanded.

“I don't know. The kind that are blokes on horse and coming this way. They’ll be here in a couple of minutes.”

“Right. Get the horses ready. Go through there,” he indicated a gap in the trees. “Get Hazel in the saddle. If we need to ride, we need to be able to go. And if I say go: you go.”

“We're not leaving you!” Hazel was indignant.

“Go where?” Robin asked, ignoring Hazel.

“Towards the mountains. There should be a town on that map of yours called Trebut. The innkeeper is a friend. They’ll look after you.” He put a hand on Robin’s shoulder. “When I say leave, you leave me behind.” Robin nodded and started getting horses together.

“I will not be shunted around like baggage! We won't leave you behind.” Hazel put her hands on her hips.

“Do you have weapons?”

“No.”

“Can you fight? Against men that do?”

“Probably not.”

“Then I need to keep you safe. If they take you then I've risked all for nothing. Is that what you want?”

“Of course not, but still…”

“Get on the damn horse. I'll catch up with you. You are the ones they want.”

“But the treason…”

“I will think of something.” He lowered his voice. “I can make you get on that horse, but please, do it because I ask.  Because you trust me.”

She quickly turned and found Robin had saddled the horses and got their packs together. He helped her to get in the saddle and then stood waiting by the horses. She could just hear him talking to them quietly, keeping them calm. They were waiting in silence. Hazel had to force herself to breathe, even though it sounded loud to her. Even the birds had fallen silent. She tried to see Mika through the trees, but she couldn't. He’d vanished. Then there was a lot of noise coming from the direction of the road. She tensed, and saw Robin stiffen too. She hoped the riders would just keep going past and miss them. They hadn’t lit a fire and they’d been careful when they left the road to minimise their trail.

The noise from the road got quieter again as the group moved past without noticing them. Hazel breathed out in relief. Mika appeared from the trees and stroked the neck of his horse.

“They passed by. I didn't expect them to catch up so soon. We’ll have to find a different route or they’ll catch us when they turn around.” His horse suddenly snorted, ears flattened and pulled back. Mika turned, not towards the road but the heart of the forest, and drew his sword.

An inhuman scream came from the trees and a giant beast came lumbering towards them. It was the size of a bear but no bear Hazel had ever seen in a zoo looked like this. It was covered in dark, shaggy fur, except its head where the fur gave way to feathers. It had large, round, golden eyes. Instead of a snout it had a beak. David Attenborough had never filmed an animal like this.

“Back. Out. Get up, get to the road.” Mika shouted at them. 

“What about the men?” Hazel shouted back over the strange animals screams.

“They may kill you, this thing will kill you.”

Robin was struggling to control the horses when the riders that had come to investigate the noise burst in. There was a split second when the world seemed to hold still, everyone taking everything in. It was broken by one of the riders throwing a fireball at the creature. Robin was still trying to move the horses when a fireball was aimed at him. Hazel screamed and he held up his hands instinctively. Hazel felt her ears pop as the air pressure around them changed. A pillar of air pushed out from them and the riders flew in all directions. Robin stared at his hands.

“Ride! Now, before they have time to recover. Leave!” Mika was pushing Robin towards his horse. Robin still seemed dazed but gained his saddle and started moving. He had tethered Hazel’s horse to his own. She turned to check on the General, but just as he pulled himself into the saddle the terrifying creature swiped at him with its huge claws. He was thrown to one side. His horse skittered away to follow hers and out of reach of the animal. She cried out but nothing happened. Robin had picked up speed and they were almost immediately out of the woods and galloping down the road.

“Ro! We need to stop and go back! That thing got him!”

“He said to go without him.” There was no emotion in his voice.

“He was coming with us. He might be hurt!”

“No. He said to go.” He was staring straight ahead. She looked at his face and thought she knew what had happened. The only thing she could do was hold on. 

Story: Part Two

 They were transported to the castle in the back of a cart. It was definitely more of a cart than a carriage. It had some cushions and benches to sit on but no more luxury than that. There had been a lot of discussion between Robin and the man in charge, not that Hazel could follow what they were saying, since she didn't understand Elvish and was still feeling the effects of the crossing anyway. Robin had managed to convince them that they weren't a threat, although her sickness may have done most of the work. They weren’t being treated as prisoners exactly, but she didn't think they would have been given much of a choice of where to go, even if they knew what the options were. Half the guards were escorting them, and presumably the other half were left packing up or waiting to see if anyone else came through the gate. 

Robin had tucked her up in the pillows. The night was colder here than at home and they'd been temporarily relieved of their bags. Robin sat on one of the benches, looking out at what he could see of the landscape in the darkness. The cart rolled over a rut in the road, knocking them both sideways. Hazel groaned. 

“The driver's nearly as bad as you on the quad,” she said, rearranging the pillows. Robin didn’t respond and continued looking out around them. Hazel hit his leg.

“What was that for?”

“I insulted your driving and you didn't respond. I was checking that you weren't dead.”

“I don't think this is really the time for jokes.”

“Did he say where they were taking us?”

‘He’ was the elf in charge, with the dark, curly hair and blue eyes.

“To the person in control of this region. Duke Narlena. Our new friend is, if I translated it right, General Gosht. His second-in-command wanted to restrain us, but he decided you were too sick to run, and didn't think I would leave you. But they took our bags to make sure.”

“They don’t know you very well.”

“I know, if I could get my bag back I'd leave you a heartbeat.” He gave her a small smile. Hazel threw a pillow at him which drew the General’s attention. He rode over, level with the cart and gave them a stony look before speaking to Robin.

“We’re about to arrive,” Robin translated. They turned a corner and Hazel pulled herself onto the bench next to Robin. The word castle conjures up a lot of images; Disney-fied versions, all turrets and glamour. Or the great empty halls they visited with school which, although they still had their walls and roof, were still unimaginable as somewhere people had lived. And she’d seen many ruins that she couldn't picture complete at all. What was before them now looked more like a stately home than a castle. There was an outer wall, but no drawbridge, and the squat building was set slightly away from the more practical outbuildings the castle needed. It wasn't particularly pretty, and not a turret in sight, but it did look fortified. Hazel wasn't worried about getting in though - that seemed to be happening whether she wanted to or not - getting out again was her worry.

They pulled up near the front door and someone came down the steps to meet the General and his men. It looked like an argument started.

“They can't decide to put us in rooms or prison.” Robin said.

Hazel looked up. The upper storey of the building was dark, if there were windows then there weren’t any lights on.

“I bet no one wants to make a decision without the Duke in case it's the wrong one, but he's probably in bed.” She watched the arguing group. The General had dismounted and stood silently as the steward gesticulated at him. He looked over at the cart and made eye contact with Hazel. She couldn't look away. He strode over, ignoring the steward who was still talking to him, and undid the back of the cart.

“Come.”

Robin and Hazel looked at each other, surprised that he’d spoken in English, and clambered down to the floor. Robin steadied her as she landed. The General motioned to his men and their bags were returned. Another gesture and most of the guards and the cart moved away towards the outbuildings. He nodded to them and turned on his heel, following his men and leaving them with the steward who looked fit to burst.

The steward found some men from the house to escort them, presumably in case they suddenly attacked. Hazel was led to a very basic room; bed, chair, empty fireplace. It was barely warmer than outside. She was ushered into the room and the door was locked behind her. 

“Definitely more prisoner than guest,'' she said out loud to herself..

She thought she heard Robin shout, but the door was so thick that everything was muffled. She scouted the room for anything that might allow her to talk to him, like a grate or something. There weren’t even any windows. She tried shouting into the fireplace, remembering that sometimes they merge and share flues. She found heavy bars across the inside of the chimney just above the hearth, but couldn't decide if they were to keep intruders out or people like her in. Neither answer was comforting. In lieu of any other options she changed out of her soiled top and tried to get warm under the bed covers. She must have dropped off because the next thing she knew she was being woken by a knock at the door. She heard a key turn in the lock and the door opened slightly.

“Hello? You can come in,” she said, jumping out of the bed. She felt weird speaking in English, as everyone she met so far had only spoken Elvish. No, not quite everyone. The General, although he'd spoken Elvish to Robin, he definitely spoke to the pair of them in English when he wanted them to get off the cart last night. Unless she misheard and it just sounded like English. But she couldn't check with Robin.  The door opened wider and a man with dark skin entered holding a tray in front of him. He walked across to the fireplace, followed by a pale girl carrying a small table. The girl hurried as if she wanted to be gone as soon as possible. Another girl appeared and set a fire in the fireplace. The girl with the table had placed it down and pushed open some shutters that Hazel had thought were part of the wood panelling when she investigated last night. Weak sunlight lit the room. Once the girls were done, the man nodded his approval and they left. Hazel could almost feel their relief. They’d tried very hard not to look at her, like she was something awful. The table was low, and the man sat on the floor beside it and indicated that Hazel should join him.

“Please, have some breakfast with me. You must be very hungry after your adventures last night.”

Hazel was shocked. “You speak English?” She put a pillow from the bed on the floor before sitting down opposite him.

“I speak several dead languages. This is the first time I've had a chance to practise with a native speaker.”

“Dead language? It’s one of the most widely…”

“But here it is dead,” he interrupted. “No one has used it for everyday speech for a very long time, and people very rarely move between our worlds now.”

“So why did you learn a dead language?”

“Do you not learn languages from your culture’s past?”

“Not me. Scholars, lawyers, politicians, aristocrats. Is that what you are?”

He paused to think for a moment. “Yes.”

“Which one?”

“I would say my role encompasses all of them.” He removed the cover from a plate. “This morning though, I am your server.” The food smelt really good. Some sort of bread, still warm from the oven. Porridge with jam. A pot steaming with what she optimistically hoped was coffee. She picked up some of the bread, and almost bit into it before carefully placing it on the plate in front of her.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked.

“I just thought of something, and I don't mean to be rude, but there's an old wives’ tale. It says if you step into a fairy ring that you shouldn't let anything pass your lips or you'll never be able to leave.”

“Do you believe this fairy story?”

She shook her head. “No. But then again, I never expected to end up in the place it might hve been warning me about.”

“Well. If it puts your mind at ease, this food is freely given, with no bonds or requirements and you are free to leave.”

“Am I?”

The man gestured at the food again. “Please, I feel we have had a misunderstanding about why you are here. Eat while I try to explain.” Hazel picked up the slice of bread again and bit into it. It tasted as good as it smelt. “My name is Antelé. I'm here representing Duke Narlena. Your arrival last night took one of our patrols by surprise. It was never common for people to come through the gates, and now it is completely unheard of. I suspect the younger recruits didn't even know what was happening. These tales are no longer told by our firesides.” He chuckled a little and poured from the pot. “The manner of your arrival, and the company you were keeping, alarmed General Gosht. He assumed at first you had been stolen by the Rhasper you were with.”

Hazel had no idea what that was, but she kept silent and drank the coffee that had been poured.

“Seeing your companions' concern for your health,” he continued, “the General decided Duke Narlena would want to see the pair of you. Unfortunately, the night steward does not like to be forced to deviate from his routine, and you certainly are not routine. I hope you can forgive your treatment given how unusual your presence is, and how unprepared everyone was for it.”

Hazel put down the cup. “I guess there was no real harm done, although I won't be happy until I see Robin. It wasn't right separating us.”

“Again, my apologies. Until we understood your relationship it was felt to be for the best. I assure you he is safe and well, apart from some minor injuries sustained fighting the guard last night when they separated you.”

She wasn't sure she liked the sound of that but she was relying on this man to get back to Robin.

“Would you be able to explain how you managed to come through the gate? As I said, it's been a very long time since there's been any interaction between our peoples.” 

“In all honesty, I don't know.” 

“You came with bags. It seems to me that you planned to cross.”

“Robin wanted to cross. On my parents land there is a stone, much like the one where the patrol found us. He had been told by an Elder,” she didn't know that was even the right term but it felt right, “that the gates were going to open soon. I don't know how he figured that out or how long he knew. What information he did have was vague; there would be ‘signs’ but he wasn't told what the signs were. I don't think many of his people believed that it would happen. His parents certainly didn't.”

“You know his family?”

She nodded. “They work on the farm with my family.”

“So you have known each other a long time?”

“Yes.”

Antelé sipped his drink. “I'm sorry for interrupting. Please continue.”

“Finally something happened which Robin thought might be a sign - an aurora. He asked me to come with him to find his way back to where his people originally came from. I agreed. I'm not sure if, when I agreed, that I thought it was actually going to work.”

“But you knew it must because, as you say, his people come from here.”

Hazel paused to think. “There’s a difference between knowing something happened to another person and thinking it will happen to you. I know people once came through the gates, that there was a realm, a plane of existence, parallel to my own. I’ve grown up with Robin and his family, I've worked with others like him, but when we touched the stone I didn't expect to be taken there. Here.”

“You touched the stone?”

“Yes. That's how we came through. We placed our hands on it and then we were here.” 

Antelé got to his feet. “Thank you. This has been a most interesting discussion. I hope you enjoy the rest of this meal and I will see that you are reunited with your companion soon.” He walked to the door and paused, like he’d forgotten something. “The Duke is holding a feast tonight for your welcome. I hope you will feel up to attending.”

Hazel swallowed the mouthful of bread she just taken a bite of. “Sure, but I hope the dress code is casual because I didn't pack for fancy dinners.” 

“I'll make sure suitable attire is found.” He left, and locked the door behind him.

Hazel deflated. The locked door wasn't a positive sign. She wasn't sure she believed him about the patrol being there by chance either. Things didn't make sense. If the Elves at home had to flee, what were these Elves doing here? What was that name he used for Robin? ‘Rhasper’? She got up and walked over to the window. It wasn't much of a view. Her room overlooked the space between the house and stables. There were a few people milling about. She tried to open the window for air, but the window didn't seem to have any kind of mechanism. She frowned. Was that the way windows here were, or just another sign that this was a fancy cell?

The day passed slowly. Robin was brought to her so they could share their lunch, but the two bodyguards standing in the room put a damper on things. She no longer trusted that people wouldn't understand them if they were speaking English. She mentioned her breakfast companion but didn't want to discuss him too much in front of the guards. Robin didn’t seem to have been mistreated, although he did have a split lip from someone's elbow in the struggle the night before. Hazel thought there was something else though. His eyes looked darker. Maybe it was just bad light or lack of sleep, but they didn't seem their usual lilac. She tried to cheer him up, suggesting that if they were guests of honour at the feast then the Duke couldn’t have taken against them too much. “After all,” she reasoned, “you don't throw a feast for prisoners, right?” 

“Let's go for a walk outside then, shall we?” Robin replied sourly.

They sat in silence for a while before the guards indicated that visiting times were over. Antelé kept his word, and late afternoon some more pale girls appeared at her door with a variety of dresses. Again, they didn't seem happy in her company, and once she’d picked a dress they more or less ran from her room. She picked a blue one, not because she liked the colour particularly, but because it was the one with the least amount of ties and fastenings. It was one she could actually put on herself, unlike the others. No shoes had been provided though, so she put her boots back on. As long as she stood still you couldn't tell. The owner of the dress must be slightly taller than she was, as the dress skimmed the floor. She just hoped that she didn't step on the hem and fall over. She had just finished trying to do something with her hair when there was a knock and her door unlocked.

Antelé had come to escort her to the meal. She was going to ask after her friend, but it was quite possible he was sulking and refusing to attend. She couldn't blame him, but if she wanted to know what was going on she would have to see the Duke. They were already suspicious of them so she would have to try and smooth things over. Antelé gave her a small bow before holding out his arm for her. She bobbed a curtsy, hoping she was doing it right, before taking his arm. She'd not been able to see much of the castle the night before, but now she could take in the décor a bit more. There were paintings, both landscapes and portraits, and the occasional sculpture. She tried to make a note of landmarks in case she needed to find her way back. 

They descended a flight of stairs, and the sound of music and people became audible. The doors to the castle’s hall were open, light spilling out. Hazel couldn't believe how many people had attended on what must surely have been short notice. They couldn’t possibly all live in the castle. People looked at her as she entered, and there was a man by the door announcing people as they entered. It felt very grand, like one of the BBC period dramas. Shame she couldn’t understand what was being said about her. The band was positioned on a balcony so they didn't take up space on the dancefloor. A number of couples were already swirling around on it.

“You seem impressed.” Antelé said.

“I’ve never seen anything like it in real life.” She took a glass of something bubbly from a waiter. Antelé beamed. They stood to one side of the room. A lot of people came to speak to Antelé and bowed or curtsied to her. Hazel smiled and curtsied back. She still didn't know what Antelé did, but he was either important or well-liked. Someone cleared their throat next to her and made her jump. It was the General, his dark hair was tied back but a curl or two escaped from the tail. He was wearing a jacket which looked military but must have been a dress uniform because it was very well-fitted. She tried not to think about exactly how well-fitted it was. This was neither the time nor place. 

“He's asking you to dance.” Antelé explained.

Hazel smiled at the General but spoke to Antelé. “I don't think I can. I don't know the steps.”

“It's rude to turn down an offer.” He looked upset.

“I think it might be ruder if I step on his toes.” She watched the General’s face to see if there was any sign of him understanding, but he didn't even blink. Antelé translated the comment and there was a quirk of a smile. He replied and Antelé quickly translated. 

“He's willing to take the risk.” He turned away to speak to someone else. Evidently, he deemed the matter settled.

The general took her hand and led her to the dance floor. He put one hand on her waist but she could barely feel it, and led her around the floor. She looked around to try and see the other couples but with the dresses it was impossible to see the steps.

“Hazel.” He said her name so softly it sent a shiver down her spine. She looked up at him and into his blue eyes. The light of the chandeliers seemed to make them twinkle. Looking up at him and not the other couples suddenly made it easier to dance. As she followed his lead she really felt like she was in one of those period dramas, everyone's skirts swirling around. He did spin her around too, her own Mr Darcy. Except Darcy was a prick. She felt more graceful than she ever had, looking in his eyes it all felt very safe, intimate, intense, creepy. She shook her head and tried to get rid of those thoughts.

“So, do you understand me?” She asked him.

“Yes.”

“But you didn't the other night.”

“Your world has many languages which you might have spoken. I knew which one your friend would understand.” 

“Do many people here speak English?”

He thought for a moment. “No, only those have had a… comprehensive education.”

Hazel guessed that didn’t mean the same as going to a comprehensive school.

“So like Antelé then.”

“We had similar schooling.” He seemed to be about to ask her something when there was a commotion from the direction of the entrance, currently behind her. She tried to turn and look but the General was also putting himself between her and the noise. He hadn’t let go of her hand, and then with the switching of places, and the other guests turning to look, Hazel stepped on her dress and fell over. 

The atmosphere in the room changed suddenly. She felt cold, everything seemed harsher to her, as if it has all been in soft-focus before. She could hear other people’s voices over the music, which she couldn’t before, and the lights seemed brighter.

“Here.” He held out a hand to help her feet. As her fingers touched his she could feel it happen, the rest of the world going out of focus. She snatched her hand back.

“What was that?” She demanded.

“Get your hands off her, you prick.” Robin barged in and placed himself between her and the General. He’d been provided suitable clothes for the feast too; dark gold on the jacket to match his tawny blonde hair. But if he was ready, why had it taken him so long to arrive?

She got to her feet by herself. “I'm ok, Robin. We were just dancing.”

“You can't even do the hokey cokey, and now you do ballroom? He had you under a glamour.”

She looked at the General and knew it was true. None of the Elves back home could do magic, but despite the real-life presence of otherworldly beings for some decades, pop culture retained the notion that witches, vampires, and other morally questionable creatures could use magic to assert their will over others.

“I wanted to talk but you were concentrating on dancing,” the General explained, “It was just to remove the distraction. You enjoyed the dance, didn’t you?”

Hazel felt sick. Part of her had told her it was wrong, but has been overridden by something else.

“You can make her believe she was enjoying it.”

The General stepped closer to Robin, looming over him. “And you didn't do the same last night?”

“That was different!”

Hazel thought back. He had told her she was fine, that it was safe, and she had felt better. Was that because her friend had told her so or because he glamoured her?

“I bet that wasn't the first time either.” The General was like a shark who’d smelt blood.

“It was, if he did. No magic at home.” Her voice sounded hollow.

“It's not really magic, or uses such tiny amounts compared to the other magics that it’s barrey worthy of the title. The power of a name, a touch, eye contact,” the General said.

Robin turned to face her. “El, it's not true.”

They’d known each other for too long. She knew his tells. “You bastard.” She looked at the General. “Both of you. You utter bastards.” She walked away from them, the crowd parting for her. There were open doors to the outside, she picked up her skirts so as not to trip and ran out and across the lawn. This must be the back of the house because she hadn't seen it before. She hurried away from Robin, still shouting her name after her, tears burning down her cheeks. Feet thundered behind her and Robin grabbed her by the shoulder.

“Don't fucking touch me,” she screamed at him. Immediately he let go. “It’s true isn't it? You could glamour at home. You used it on me.”

“Not to actually…do stuff. He's wrong, it does take magic, and there isn't enough at home. Nudges, suggestions. Not actually do stuff like he did.”

“I'm. Your. Friend.” She punctuated the words by hitting him. He raised his arms to fend her off. “How could you do this?” She thought back to the night they left, his hands on her shoulders asking her to come with him. Did he do it then? She spun on her heel and walked away.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.” It started to rain, great big fat drops. The General was suddenly in front of her. She hadn’t noticed his approach. He shrugged out of his jacket and put it around her shoulders.

“Please, come back inside. You won’t get far outside the walls, even without the rain.”  The jacket smelt good, spicy like cloves. It took her moment to take in what he said.

“Is that a threat?”

“No. The lands around here are not safe, that is why we patrol. Come inside. The Duchess would not like her dress ruined.” He shepherded her back to the castle, not to the door she had fled through, but to a small set of glass doors at one end of the building. The General hadn't invited Robin to follow, but didn't send him away either. He unlocked the door, and moved around the room, stoking the fire, lighting lamps, before leaving by the interior door with no indication of if or when he would be back. 

Hazel sat down in one of the armchairs by the fire. Robin sat opposite, but she couldn't stay still so got up and paced the room.

“I can't believe you would do this to me. When? How many times? Did you make me come here?” Something the General said earlier clicked. “Is that why you never call me Hazel?”

“There's a powerful magic in a name.” It sounded like he was quoting something. “That's why I don't use it, yes. I didn't make you come here. I may have nudged you towards something you already wanted, but I didn’t make you do anything. I haven't been able to make you do anything since…”

“Since…?”

He put his head in his hands. “The first time we found the pillar in the woods.”

“The other week?”

He took a deep breath. “No, the time when you ended up in hospital. I had just discovered what I could do. You didn't like the wood but I wanted to go, so I made you.”

“I don't remember the pillar.” She didn’t remember much of that day at all.

“My parents thought it was bad for you to know. They… they made you forget. And it's not just that your dad that banned us from the woods. They…impressed it on us. But it finally wore off.” 

Hazel was shaking. “Your parents made me forget!” Tilly had been a second mother. Yip had taught her to ride a cow because they didn't have horses, he’d fixed grazed knees. Then messed with her mind.

“Don't be mad at them. They did what they thought was best.” He gestured at the room. “They might have been right.”

“That doesn't make it ok.”

“Please, I'm so sorry.”

“Sorry you were caught.”

“No. I'm sorry for breaking your trust.”

The door opened and the General returned.

“And you!” She turned to face him, “what sorry excuse do you have for controlling me like that?”

He shrugged. “I told you I need to talk to you, and I wanted you to focus on me and not the dance.”

“And you think that's alright?”

“Yes. There is information I need, which I was going to ask you about before your little friend here caused a scene.”

“So why not just bring me here, or come to my room like Antelé did, like a normal person?”

“Because I didn't want him to know I was asking. Now at least I have a reason to keep you two away from the party for a bit, although since it’s in your honour, we'll have to return soon.”

“So what did you want to know? What is so important you turned me into a puppet?”

“Why are you here?”

Hazel threw up her hands. “I told Antelé this! Robin wanted to return to his homeland and it turns out I may or may not have agreed to come along.”

“But this is not his homeland.”

Hazel sat down. “I'm confused. This is where the Elves came from. Through the pillars.” She looked at Robin but his head was in his hands, his face hidden.

“This is Tallermin. The Rhasper do not inhabit these lands, and they never have.”

“Rhasper. Antelé used that word before.” 

“From Rhasplund.” Robin said. “North of here, I think.”

The General nodded. “It is a wasteland now, which is why I'm curious about your arrival.” He fixed Robin with a stern look. “Is this a scouting mission? We've not had one of your kind return for a very long time.”

“A scouting team of two? Some great planning there. No, I didn't realise where we would come out. I was just told to try the gate.”

“By whom?”

Robin looked like he wouldn't reply for a moment. “The last matriarch of the house of Moeric.”

“You said Yama sent you.” Hazel said.

“Yama is the last matriarch. I couldn’t refuse her. She suggested I bring you. She always liked you.”

Hazel didn’t know if she should feel happy or not that the old woman had liked her, and would send her into a dangerous situation. There was a tap on the door and the General stood up.

“We need to go back. The Duke expects you.”

“And if we refuse?” Hazel asked.

“Then I won't be able to help you.” 

They walked single file back towards the sound of the party. Hazel had ignored the General’s arm when he offered it, and Robin followed at the back looking miserable. They were shown to a room opposite the ballroom with the dancefloor. It was full of light from giant chandeliers. At the end of the room, almost spanning its entire width, was a long table set with flowers and laden with covered dishes. Long, plainer tables ran the length of the room. The General led them straight to the decorated table. He stopped abruptly, tapped his heels together and bowed deeply.

“My liege, apologies for our absence.” He said. Hazel stopped next to him and took his lead and curtsied. When she looked up she realised the man at the centre of the table, the man they were here to meet, was Antelé. Either side of him were two beautiful women. One said something to Antelé and he smiled. 

“My lady wife said her dress looks lovely on you. And my brother's coat matches it wonderfully.” He smiled and Hazel blinked at the General, unsure of what to say. Brother?

“The Duchess is most observant.” The General filled in for her. “Both your wives have such excellent taste that they could make anyone look becoming, but not as becoming as themselves. I'm afraid this one may have been ruined, we were caught in the rain.”

Antelé, the Duke, waved his hand. “They have plenty more I'm sure.” They took that as a sign of dismissal. Hazel and Robin were shown two seats at the end of the top table. The General left them for what must have been his regular position further down the table. Hazel gave him back his jacket, releasing its sweet, spicy scent as it was removed. The meal was long and Hazel had no interest in the food. She picked at each course, and when the plates were finally cleared the guests started to fall back into the ballroom. 

“I'm going back to my room,” she told Robin.

“I'll walk you back.”

She shook her head. “I can find it. I just want to be alone.”

“I really am sorry.” 

“I know. It's just there’s been a lot to take in. I need some space.” She hurried up the main staircase before anyone could stop her and tried to retrace her steps. She passed sculptures and paintings that she thought she recognised before finally ending up in a long dark corridor. There was a window at one end and the few lights that were lit showed a lot of portraits. She sighed and sat in the window seat, overlooking the gardens. She’d managed to get lost in the castle. She was probably on the other side of the building to her room. Her mother had always joked that she could get lost in a paper bag. 

Someone came around the corner and into the long gallery. She jumped to her feet.

“I'm so sorry, I think I'm… oh. It’s you.” 

The General came closer, his blue eyes almost glowing in the dark. She sat back down.

“May I join you?” When she said nothing he sat on the other end of the seat.

“Antelé is the Duke.” She finally said.

“You didn't know?”

“He said he was representing the Duke.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Would you have spoken to him as you did if you knew he was the Duke?”

“No.”

“Then the subterfuge was justified. He was there representing himself, he did not lie.”

“And you didn't feel the need to share your relationship with him to me.”

“No. Ours is more professional than fraternal. We only share a mother.”

“So your father was…”

“The Duke.”

“So why is Antelé the Duke now?”

“Our mother died and he was the eldest.” He said it like he was explaining to a child.

“But if your father was the Duke…”

“His father was also the Duke.”

Hazel finally worked out what was going on. “Ohhh. Your mother had two husbands. And now he has two wives.” She meant it more for herself.

“Is that not how you do things?”

“No, not usually. Is everyone involved happy with that arrangement?”

“Of course. What happens when your partner dies?”

“Then you’re left sad and alone.” 

“At least this way you are left sad with someone.”

“Are you married?” She hadn’t meant to say it, and not so bluntly, but it had slipped out. It was hard to concentrate with him so close. Where his hair got damp in the rain it was starting to curl and escape from his ponytail. He may be a dickhead, but he's an attractive dickhead. 

“No, I have not had that blessing.” He looked around. “This isn't anywhere near your rooms, you know.”

She shrugged, “I think I should have turned left at the crying woman picture.”

“You shouldn't have passed that picture at all.” He stood to lead her back to her room.

“I want to ask one more question.” He sat down again. “You said Robin was a Rhasper, and you are…”

“Tallese.”

“Right. So is that a nationality? Religion? Species?”

He sighed deeply. “It is our magic that separates us. And keeps us apart. Magics cannot be mingled.”

“Ok…”

“There is a story. Long ago there was a woman who had five sons. To each of them she gave a gift; one she gave gifts of earth, and to another gifts of air, one fire and one water. For her last son she had nothing left to give. She told them she loved them all and that they should go and use their gifts to find their own lands. The Darrowkin found love in the mountains. The Sakura on the sea. Rhasper on the high plateaus. And the Tallese in the forests. But the last brother found no love. He wandered from place to place, from brother to brother, not finding comfort. He eventually returned to his mother and complained. She said if you cannot find love with them then he should look elsewhere. The Darrowkin made the door and the others blessed it. The last brother walked through never to return.”

“But you said the Rhasper…wait…you’re not talking about them, are you?”

“No,” he said gently.

“You’re talking about me. About us. Humans, I mean. We came from here too?”

“If you believe the story.”

“Do you really have magic?” 

“Give me your hands.”

She was hesitant but held them out and made a cup shape. He put his on the other side to extend the cup after a moment the ball of blue flame appeared between their hands.