Protector of the Enchanted

Chapter 6: A Lot to Process



Despite there being an earthquake, Gem doesn’t seem to be too concerned. Her hands go up to clutch at the side of the table to steady herself, but the fear on the faces around is missing from hers. I admit that I’m not all that worried either. But that’s mostly because after literally drowning not so long ago, the ground shaking pales in comparison.

“It seems news of your arrival has spread.” She’s saying that way too nonchalantly.

My nose scrunches up. “To who?”

The question is ignored, her eyes widening and nose twitching. Her fingers tap the table in a frantic manner. “That means he has heard as well.” She gulps, muttering underneath her breath. “I should have known he’d have spies in the forest as well.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I can vaguely guess who she’d talking about, but this reaction seems a tad excessive. Fortunately, I don’t need to say a word. Because Gem is grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the bookcase on the wall.

Trying not to struggle, I focus on keeping a hold of my duffle bag, as she pulls a large book from its centre. Bafflingly, the bookcase slides open, shifting to the side to reveal a hidden corridor. The questions die on my tongue, when she releases her hold to gently push me inside, following soon after.

“We need to go.” She states, but my focus is on the sliding of the bookcase back in place. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to need a reply, turning around and beginning to walk through the torch lined passage.

As we walk further down the passage, I notice that she’s still clutching the book in her hand. It must be important. I’ll ask about that later. For now, I’m more interested in the fire atop each torch. It lights up as we walk through and goes out behind us, casting a veil of darkness in our wake. Magic really is cool.

Am I adjusting to this too quickly? The thought has occurred to me a lot in the last couple of hours. It really shouldn’t be so easy to come to terms with all the oddities I’ve seen. I’m learned to changes quickly, I’ve had to, but it’s never been quite this easy.

I wonder what Barty’s doing right now. Did he get back to his nest safely? Maybe I should go back and check on him someday. He’s a smart bird, so I’m sure he’ll remember me. I hope.

Jets of light shining on my face make me wince, scrunching up my eyes and breaking me from my thoughts. It takes a couple of blinks for me to readjust to sunlight after spending so much time in the dimly lit passage.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?” I ask when Gem just heads off in a random direction instead of explaining.

“No time.” She says, not breaking her stride. It’s not that difficult to keep up, but the urgency is alarming.

“Gem. We have all the time.” I keep my voice blank of the frustration I can feel forming.

“Not when there are so many eyes around us.”

“There is no one here but us.” I know because I’ve always been good at knowing when I’m being watched.

“You can’t know that!” She turns around and then freezes. Blinking like she hadn’t meant for those words to be so loud. I huff, even as I walk over to place a hand on her shoulder, making sure to meet her eyes.

“There is no one watching us.” I make sure to keep my voice gentle even as the words are stern. “If you want me to trust, you’re going to have to do the same.”

I can hear her gulp, her eyes watering. My eyes don’t leave her greys. There’s a hint of brown in them, I notice now that I’ve seen them in the light. They stay there until she nods her understanding.

“Home. We’re going to my home.” She tells me, not moving from her position. “It’s warded enough that we won’t need to worry about prying eyes.”

“Alright.” I smile. “Lead the way. You didn’t need to make yourself seem mad.”

Indignation replaces her hesitance in a minute. “I did not.”

“Yes, you did.” I tease. Grinning when her cheeks flush red and she huffs out a frustrated breath.

“Shut up.”

Laughter bubbles up inside me at the sight of her glare. It looks so out of place with her flushed puffed-up cheeks. It’s cute. I try to contain it but can’t stop my grin from growing.

Gem just rolls her eyes before walking off, the quickening of her steps revealing her annoyance. I try. I really do. But the endless stream of chuckles still escapes my mouth. Gem once again turns to glare at me. But… I swear the corners of her lips rise into the smallest smile.

A messenger runs across the long castle corridor, an aged, crumpled piece of paper in his hand. He stops to knock at the wood of the enormous cedar door, afraid any slight movement might doom him.

“Hurry up or get lost.” Commands a loud voice from the other side of the door.

“Right, I apologise for disturbing you, Your Majesty. But I may have found something of great importance.”

“Then bring it over at once.” The messenger hesitates, but alas the spell is too strong for him to resist. Handing over the parchment, he immediately rushes out the door, glad to make it out alive.

As soon as he leaves, the shadowy figure unrolls the parchment to read the words written within. He raises an eyebrow at what he finds. A prophecy. About someone they’ve dubbed their protector. As if someone like that could exist. He made note to investigate on the off chance this prophecy was justified. He doubted it, but his plans could not be overturned. Not when he was so close.

He strode off, not noticing the paper falling to the ground with a flutter, reflected in the pool of water.

Gem’s house, as it turns out, looks like it wouldn’t be place in a horror movie. Especially since it’s so far into the wilderness. There’s barely anyone around and I swear I saw skeleton not so far away from the gates. The ones that opened to a stone footpath leading to the doors of this monstrosity.

“What?” She asks, taking note of the look on my face.

I shake my head. “Nothing.” Her eyes narrow at that reply, but she doesn’t pry.

Even if I asked her about her décor choices, I doubt she would even know what a horror movie was. Especially since I haven’t seen any televisions sets around here. Which is expected when you’re in a different world, so I’m not sure why I feel so surprised.

“Well, whatever you’re thinking, I know it’s undoubtedly rude.” She shoots back at me as she unlocks the arched drawbridge doors.

It’s a good thing she’s not looking my way, because I can feel a sheepish smile forming on my face as blood rushes to my cheeks. I mock innocence when she turns. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. Sure.” She mutters in a tone that says she doesn’t believe me.

I force more faux innocence in my expression. “I mean it, Mira.” The nickname rolls over my tongue with an ease that surprises us both. But she thankfully doesn’t dwell on it for too long.

“Whatever you say, Rose.” The unphased tone doesn’t work when I can see her ears turning red. I’m just not going to tell her. Well, not right now at least.

“Rose? Most people just call me Astri.” I say instead.

Gem tilts her head up in a way that is clearly mock indignation. “I’m not most people.”

“No. You’re certainly not.” My voice sounds strangely fond, even to my own ears. It has her blushing even more, and her movements getting faster as she ushers us inside. It’s a little endearing.

As my eyes pass over the house, I have to admit it’s a lot nicer than a horror house. The teal, gold and white colour palate is too bright for that. It’s present both in the interior and the exterior surface. The roses painted on the white walls have me smiling. It’s strange. But still beautiful. It says a lot about Gem.

It doesn’t take her long to lead us into a room with a red leather couch. But that’s not what has my attention. No. That would be the hammock hanging in the porch behind the glass doors. My eyes flick towards it, even as she starts to speak.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

“Right back? Where are you going?” The questions are useless, since when I turn around, she’s gone. I can see her retreating figure walking back out, locking the doors behind her. I sigh. I suppose it can wait until she gets back.

Deciding to ask her about the book then too, I make myself to the very tempting hammock in her porch. It sits in front of a leather seat. I lie back into it and let the slow swinging soothe me. She did tell me to make myself at home.

When my gaze wonders over the couch holding my duffle bag, exhaustion starts to sink in. This really has been such a long day. My birthdays always have had a tendency to be chaotic, but this definitely takes the cake. I wonder what the next one will be like.

I snort. The idea of the next one being more chaotic is ridiculous. I fell through a whirlpool and Wizard of OZ’d my way into another world. A fact I’m still coming to terms with. Not to mention that Gem is apparently my cousin. And despite myself, I’m starting to believe that.

Another sigh. On the plus side, I did want to find my family, so in a way it’s mission accomplished. Another snort. I suppose that could balance out the smell of seaweed I can still smell in my hair. I put my hand over my face as a hysterical laugh bubbles out.

I rub my forehead, deciding to enjoy the rocking of the hammock instead of overthinking. It’s a lot to process. Clearly, it’s going to take a little more time.

“What’re you doing here all on your own?”

I jump up into a sit, nearly screaming as an unexpected voice shatters the lull the rocking had put me in. Sitting in front of me is an arrogant looking man, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Something about it rubs me the wrong way, annoyance distorting my features.

“Where the hell did you come from? And more importantly, what are you doing here?” I didn’t hear him approach. The boots he’s wearing wouldn’t be able to be that silent.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He replies, ignoring my first question.

Touché. “Perhaps. But I asked first.”

A strange look crosses his face, “I asked second.”

“Nice try pal.” I find myself enjoying the look that gets me, “But that’s not how it works.”

He looks positively infuriated, which only makes me smile. “I’m not your pal.”

“True.” I hold his gaze, “But that raises the question of who you are…”

“And what I’m doing here” He finishes with a small grin. I guess he’s over the irritation.

“Yep. Now answer the question.”

An almost sadistic smile crosses his face as he says, “Why I’m simply here to talk to you, of course.” My eyes narrow. That wasn’t really an answer, he’s having too much fun teasing me. Well, two can play that game.

“Talk to me?” I cock my head to the side, widening my eyes. “You don’t even know who I am.”

“Don’t I?” He looks almost amused, “Are you quite sure?” I blink. Now that he mentions it- No. Focus.

“Yes.” My eyebrow twitches, “I’m quite sure.” I at least know that we’ve never met. Not from what I can remember.

“How rude of me.” There’s an unusual glint in his eyes. I don’t know if ‘rude’ is the word I’d use.

“Well then,” He continues, “Who are you?”

“Nice try.” I deadpan, “But, you haven’t yet answered my question of who you are, and I know better than to tell a stranger my name.”

“A stranger?” A sad glint comes into his eyes, that sends a pang through my chest, but I push that aside. I’m not going to let that stop me from winning this argument.

Even if I want to know his name.

I ignore the question and my thoughts, “Are you going to tell me who you are?”

Silence. I guess that leaves us at an impasse. I just sit there in silence, not letting my eyes leave his for a second. Despite how annoying some of it has been, I’m surprised to find that I don’t mind this conversation. It’s a little fun. His eyes search mine, flickering over my face. The longer he stares, the harder it gets not to smile.

Then something changes. His mouth gapes open a little, and a strange emotion enters his eyes. Amusement laced with a flicker of something else. I can’t quite tell what it is, but it looks an awful lot like recognition. This almost feels like a test. But for what? I’m not given a lot of time to ponder that question when he suddenly lets out a chuckle. It sounds a little manic.

“Well, aren’t you something?” A smile plays on his lips. The smile, unlike the psychotic laughter, seems airy and light tinted with a hint of mischief. A powerful gust of wind and cracking of a branch draw my attention away. When I look back, he’s gone. Leaving just as suddenly and mysteriously as he came.

Staring at the spot where he was sat, I feel a hint of loneliness take over. I almost want him to come back, so I have something to distract me from it. I’d been trying to ignore it until now, but his presence just provided me with a name for the emotion. I hope Gem gets back soon. Or I might have to try and become friends with another bird to fill the hollowness.

What am I going to do now?

Gem seems to be expecting me to break some curse, but I don’t know how to do that. My head hurts just thinking about it. But does that mean I shouldn’t at least try? Blinking away that thought, I lie back in the hammock once again. I wouldn’t even know where to start.

Curses in themselves seem ridiculous to me and if it were a week ago, I would have called it crazy. But now…It all seems incredibly real. Without having seen the effects, I’m starting to believe in its truth. Would I be able to walk away if I saw the effects?

I’m not sure If I could. However, a large part of me just wants to find a way to go home. I want to go home, but I don’t know where that is. Is it on earth? My face scrunches up. I just don’t know.

Gem’s voice breaks me out of my stupor. “I’m back.”

“Welcome home.” I mutter, too sleepy to open my eyes. I don’t tell her I’m thinking about leaving. I don’t even have a clear way home.

“What’s wrong?” My eyes flicker open, taking in the concerned look on her face.

“What makes you think something is wrong?” I can’t remember doing anything that would warrant that much concern.

“Just a suspicion.” She states. “Call it instinct.”

Hesitation stalls my tongue, but I decide lying to her would set a bad precedent. “I was just thinking…” Another pause. “About how to get home.”

“Oh.” The despair I catch in her eyes sends an arrow of guilt through me.

“I haven’t decided anything.” I quickly add. The devastation on her face isn’t something I want to see. “Things might change.” But it doesn’t seem that way right now.

She bites her lips in a way that tells me she can tell my mind isn’t going to change easily. But a spark of hope enters her eyes. I’m relieved to see it. It’s a better emotion than the sorrow she tries to hide.

“Where are we going to sleep?” I ask to change the subject. “We can’t both fit in this hammock.” I tease.

Giggling, she shakes her head. “There’s a bedroom past that door. Follow me.” Taking note of what that implies, a laugh of my own joins. I always did want to have more sleepovers. I guess this is my chance.

It certainly isn’t unpleasant. 


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