Read Online Yesterday's Magic by Pamela F. Service - Free Book Online
Authors: Pamela F. Service
Tags: Fiction
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was nowhere to be seen. It must have flown out of the room’s single window. She couldn’t see anything through the window’s glassless arch but pale gray sky. It was daytime. How many days?
Startled, she looked down at herself. She was wearing the same blue dress she had worn at the wedding. The dancing. The pink box under her bed. Heather groaned as it all came back in a jumbled rush. What had happened? Where was she?
She tried to stand but dizzily dropped back onto the crackling mattress. Very slowly she tried again and wobbled to her feet. Six cautious steps brought her to the wall. Gratefully she leaned against its cold stone. Then she looked out the window.
The light was low. Not knowing what direction she was looking, it could be either morning or afternoon. A tiredness in the hazy light suggested afternoon. If so, the position of the sun smudge told her she was looking west. But west from where?
There were mountains, tall, craggy, almost-bare mountains. Here and there dark mangy spots might be trees. Heather thought back to her geography classes in school. These mountains looked taller than anything she thought they had in Britain. Even the Scottish Highlands in the pictures hadn’t looked like this, and anyway, those were under glaciers now.
She shivered. Not in Britain, then. What was there beyond Britain? Not much, she thought, not anymore. But yet, there had been those voices scattered around the globe. And now there was this place.
Leaning across the thick chest-high windowsill, she tried to see more of this place. Below stretched a bare rocky mountainside. Standing on tiptoes, she wriggled farther out. A rugged stone wall, unbroken by other windows, dropped many stories to the ground. Above, it rose a short distance to end in crenellations against the gray sky. She could see nothing but sky to her left, but to her right, the stone wall curved away, then abutted another stone wall, straight and featureless.
Turning back to the room, she studied it, but there was little to see. The mattress was the only furniture. In the far wall was a metal-studded wooden door. Without much hope, she staggered across the room. The door was locked. She tried the little opening magic that she knew. But it dribbled off like a feeble spray of water.
Trembling, she walked back and sank down on the mattress. Only then did she let the building despair overwhelm her. She’d been abducted to someplace unimaginably foreign. She was a prisoner in some ancient stone building. And she didn’t know why or where or what might happen next.
Sobbing, Heather dropped her face into her hands. Something hard pressed against her cheek. Earl’s bracelet! She still had that. Clutching the metal circlet, she felt its warmth, almost like she was holding Earl’s hand in hers. Somehow he’d help.
The pale daylight was fading from the window when the door suddenly clanked open. Startled out of a hopeless stupor, Heather turned to see a plate of food slide across the floor as the door slammed shut again. She stared at the plate a moment before getting up and walking cautiously toward it. Bread and some pale green mashed stuff. Her stomach grumbled at the sight. How long had it been since she’d eaten anything? Days, surely. But did she dare eat this?
Shaking her head, she kicked the plate. It skidded across the floor, clacking against a wall. Not until she knew what was going on. The food could be poisoned, drugged, or magicked. She had to know who had brought her here and why.
Another hour passed. A sullen sunset was replaced by a hazy splotch of moonlight behind high clouds. She heard another rustling. It wasn’t coming from her mattress but from the base of the wall where she’d kicked that plate. She stared through the gloom and made out two shapes. Moving shapes. Rats, she realized—investigating the rejected food.
Be careful of that food,
she thought at them.
It might be bad.
She felt their startled thoughts.
Smells good.
Startled, she looked down at herself. She was wearing the same blue dress she had worn at the wedding. The dancing. The pink box under her bed. Heather groaned as it all came back in a jumbled rush. What had happened? Where was she?
She tried to stand but dizzily dropped back onto the crackling mattress. Very slowly she tried again and wobbled to her feet. Six cautious steps brought her to the wall. Gratefully she leaned against its cold stone. Then she looked out the window.
The light was low. Not knowing what direction she was looking, it could be either morning or afternoon. A tiredness in the hazy light suggested afternoon. If so, the position of the sun smudge told her she was looking west. But west from where?
There were mountains, tall, craggy, almost-bare mountains. Here and there dark mangy spots might be trees. Heather thought back to her geography classes in school. These mountains looked taller than anything she thought they had in Britain. Even the Scottish Highlands in the pictures hadn’t looked like this, and anyway, those were under glaciers now.
She shivered. Not in Britain, then. What was there beyond Britain? Not much, she thought, not anymore. But yet, there had been those voices scattered around the globe. And now there was this place.
Leaning across the thick chest-high windowsill, she tried to see more of this place. Below stretched a bare rocky mountainside. Standing on tiptoes, she wriggled farther out. A rugged stone wall, unbroken by other windows, dropped many stories to the ground. Above, it rose a short distance to end in crenellations against the gray sky. She could see nothing but sky to her left, but to her right, the stone wall curved away, then abutted another stone wall, straight and featureless.
Turning back to the room, she studied it, but there was little to see. The mattress was the only furniture. In the far wall was a metal-studded wooden door. Without much hope, she staggered across the room. The door was locked. She tried the little opening magic that she knew. But it dribbled off like a feeble spray of water.
Trembling, she walked back and sank down on the mattress. Only then did she let the building despair overwhelm her. She’d been abducted to someplace unimaginably foreign. She was a prisoner in some ancient stone building. And she didn’t know why or where or what might happen next.
Sobbing, Heather dropped her face into her hands. Something hard pressed against her cheek. Earl’s bracelet! She still had that. Clutching the metal circlet, she felt its warmth, almost like she was holding Earl’s hand in hers. Somehow he’d help.
The pale daylight was fading from the window when the door suddenly clanked open. Startled out of a hopeless stupor, Heather turned to see a plate of food slide across the floor as the door slammed shut again. She stared at the plate a moment before getting up and walking cautiously toward it. Bread and some pale green mashed stuff. Her stomach grumbled at the sight. How long had it been since she’d eaten anything? Days, surely. But did she dare eat this?
Shaking her head, she kicked the plate. It skidded across the floor, clacking against a wall. Not until she knew what was going on. The food could be poisoned, drugged, or magicked. She had to know who had brought her here and why.
Another hour passed. A sullen sunset was replaced by a hazy splotch of moonlight behind high clouds. She heard another rustling. It wasn’t coming from her mattress but from the base of the wall where she’d kicked that plate. She stared through the gloom and made out two shapes. Moving shapes. Rats, she realized—investigating the rejected food.
Be careful of that food,
she thought at them.
It might be bad.
She felt their startled thoughts.
Smells good.
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