Thorion’s summons only because he had no other excuse, and because his father had insisted he come along. Still, he felt it a waste of a beautiful day. Then the doors opened and Caleb came in. Deryck’s eyes widened and he straightened up, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. For, walking beside Caleb, looking bewildered and nervous, was the strange girl he had seen a week ago in the gardens – what was she doing here? Deryck smiled, moving further back behind the column. All at once the day had become much more interesting.
***
Despite their overwhelming looks, there was something strange about the assembled Court, an aura of otherness that felt alien to Alma. Each and every one of them was just too perfect, their unblemished beauty looking as though it had been digitally enhanced, making them appear not quite human. Which of course, they were not. And all their eyes were on her. She cast a panicked glance at Caleb, who stood to attention at her side. Catching her eye, he cleared his throat and bowed.
‘My Lords and Ladies, may I present the Lady Alma of the Human Realm.’
Alma blushed, her fair skin giving away her discomfort, but she didn’t have to worry for long. Stepping out of the glittering throng with his arms outstretched in greeting came Thorion, the High King. Alma bobbed her head and Caleb bowed again, Thorion smiling on them both.
‘Welcome to our Court, Alma – it is a glad day that we see you here again. And thank you, Caleb, for bringing her to us.’
Caleb nodded, bowing once more before stepping to the side. Thorion took Alma’s hand and tucked it into his bent arm, leading her towards the assembled Court. Hardly knowing where to look, Alma walked beside him, conscious of how close he was to her as the crowd parted to let them through. Her bracelet stone burned hot and she flinched. Thorion shot her a brief look of concern. She smiled back, though it was more of a grimace, moving her hand to try and get some respite from the pain. What was happening? She hoped she wasn’t going to be pulled back to her own world.
Then the last of the crowd moved aside and she forgot all about it. Ahead were two thrones on an ornate timber dais, framed by richly embroidered hangings. Beyond the thrones was an alcove with a smooth shelf set into the wall, richly carved with the twisting vines that seemed to be everywhere and a small five-pointed star at the apex. Above it were words etched into the stone and picked out in gold. But the alcove was empty. Nothing lay on the shelf of stone, but Alma could see a sort of spiralling, like a presence within the cavity, shining with its own pale silver light. The weird thing was that she could feel it inside her, twisting and turning, almost painful as it drew her forwards. She let go of Thorion’s arm almost without realising, moving between the thrones to stand mesmerised by the shimmering shapes, the strange heat from her bracelet gone as quickly as it came. A murmur ran through the assembled crowd and she realised that Thorion had come to stand beside her.
‘Can you see it?’ His voice was soft, but the acoustics of the place were such that his words carried through the Hall.
‘Y-yes,’ replied Alma, ‘if by “it” you mean that strange sort of twisting – yes, I can see it. But… what is it?’
At her words, another murmur ran through the watching crowd. Thorion smiled at Alma, his blue-grey eyes shining. Her heart skipped a beat at how close he stood to her, and she tried to control her feelings as she waited for his response. Emotions moved across Thorion’s glorious face – joy, relief and then, hardest to understand, sorrow. Finally, he spoke. ‘It is loss, Alma. Loss of the greatest treasures of our kind. And the fact that you can see it is of great significance.’
***
At the other end of the Hall, Caleb strained to see over the heads of the assembly. He had heard Thorion speak to Alma, but had been unable to hear her
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