The world below, p.18
The World Below, page 18
Their bags are loaded into the back, and in less time than it takes me to lower the shield protecting them from evil thoughts, they are gone.
‘Bloody hell, I’m for it now.’ The voice comes from behind me, followed by a rush of air, and the leprechaun is gone.
My job is done. Time to wait for the ballroom to open so I can join Eleanora.
The taxi pulls up outside the gates of the conference centre, the nose of the car pointing directly at a sign telling us it is closed for a private function.
‘Are you sure this is the right place?’ the driver asks, not moving to open the boot.
‘I am,’ Snake says from beside me. ‘We are part of the function.’
In the rear vision mirror, I see the man raise bushy grey eyebrows.
‘I mean, we're here to help with the catering,’ Snake explains, realising we are not the type of people normally attending private functions here.
‘Okay, then.’
The boot lock clicks, and I open the door beside me. The man doesn’t even leave his seat to help with the bags. Given the exorbitant amount I prepaid for this trip, I’m about to give him a piece of my mind. Snake places a hand on my arm, and I turn to find him shaking his head.
‘It’s not worth it,’ he says as he slams down the boot.
He’s right, it isn’t worth worrying about given the task ahead of us. My stomach sinks at the thought. All day I’ve had this overwhelming feeling of futility, wondering why I am even trying to get into the ball.
When we were at Guildford, I had almost told Snake to go on alone. I was heading for the platform to Waterloo when Snake grabbed my arm and virtually dragged me to the Portsmouth Platform as if he had read my mind.
Nagging doubts about my magical abilities still eat at my stomach, but I’m resolved to at least try and see this through.
‘Hey, what about my tip?’ the driver leans out of the door and yells, bringing me back to the present.
‘Here’s one for you: next time get out and help,’ Snake says before turning and walking up the path.
‘Bloody kids today.’ The response follows Snake and me up the driveway.
‘Shouldn’t we be hiding, or at least be careful no one sees us?’ I ask as I catch him up.
His shoulders rise in a shrug. ‘Earth said court entrances are owned by creatures. They will be expecting a number of our kind to be arriving today, so they won’t be worried.’
‘This early?’
‘Probably not, but there doesn’t appear to be anyone about. Come on. Let’s go round the back. Maybe I can find a window or door to let us inside.’
‘I’m not sure about this, Snake. I mean, not only will we be breaking and entering, but isn’t using your magic for personal gain wrong?’
Snake turns the corner, and we’re faced with a series of French doors opening into various conference rooms. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out two long pick-like things, and moments later, the door swings open.
‘Firstly, I don’t propose to use magic, and secondly, I never break anything.’
I hesitate in the doorway.
‘Come on. We won’t be damaging anything, and we will leave it as we found it. We just need somewhere to eat, and rest, and for you to practice your magic in private.’
And there it is, the real reason why I don’t want to go in. I remain where I am, not yet ready to face the fact I can’t even produce a simple flame, something children can do.
I take in a gulp of air. This person who is afraid to even try is not who I am. Besides, I have come too far to turn back now.
Snake has arranged the deli food I bought on the table, and is busy piling some onto a plate. That boy’s capacity to stuff food down his face no matter what is going on around us is amazing. I am surprised he isn’t the size of a house. He catches me watching him, and grins. ‘It’s good food. Aren’t you eating?’
I close the door and join him on the other side of the room. The food does look good. I drop my pack and bags to the ground before loading my plate with a pork pie, some coleslaw, and potato salad. Taking a seat opposite Snake, I dig in.
‘These pies are the best,’ he says, leaning over to add another to his plate.
I open an iced tea and take a gulp before sitting back in my chair, unable to eat anything more. Wearily, I close my eyes. We have been on the go for a week, and, more than anything, I would love to spend the evening curled up on the couch at home watching crap TV before hauling my tired body upstairs and sleeping in my own bed.
I must have dosed for a bit, because when I open my eyes, the table is clear, and Snake is standing before me with a steaming mug of tea.
‘How?’ I ask.
‘I assumed conference centres must be able to provide refreshments, and I was right. I found a bar outside with a fancy coffee machine and a great selection of teas.’
I wrap my hands around the mug and take a sip. Tea soothes the soul, my mother always says, and it does exactly that for me. Snake takes a seat on the floor and pats the carpet in front of him. I sigh. I can’t put this off any longer. Sitting cross-legged in front of him, I take another sip of tea before putting the mug down beside me.
‘Do you do any breathing exercises when you do karate?’ he asks.
I frown at him. ‘Yes, but what’s that got to do with my making a flame?’
‘You’re as stiff as a board. This is never going to work when you are so tense.’
My head tips to the side as I consider his words. ‘When you learned to make a flame, did you do any drills or anything beforehand?’
‘Of course. I was given my medallion, and I had to practice reaching for magic until I could sense it and hold it without having to think too much.’
I rise to my feet. I think I need to relax and allow magic to flow through me as if it is a part of me. Taking up a position in the middle of the U of tables, I begin running through my karate kata. At the same time, I reach out and touch the magic in the air.
The first time, there is no flow to my movements because I am concentrating too much on feeling the magic. By my third run through, I am moving from memory, and the magic, which began as a slight tingle, flows through my body almost as if it has always been there. I am ready.
Snake is leaning back against his pack. His eyes are closed, but I had sensed him watching me as I practiced.
‘Ready?’ he asks, moving his body to sit up and opening his eyes as I join him.
I nod. Holding out my hand, I do not need to call magic this time, as it is pulsing through me in time to my beating heart. The flame forms easily, but I still cannot grow it or hold it. It simply slips away.
‘What do you think of when you lose it?’ Snake asks, after my tenth attempt.
‘I don’t know.’ I chew on my lip while I start over, concentrating more on when the flame disappears. ‘I see the flame form, and I…. It’s like I can’t believe it is me making it.’
‘Like something inside of you is blocking your magic?’
‘No,’ I snap. ‘I can’t describe what happens. It’s like I can’t believe I am making the flame.’
‘But it is you,’ he says, stating the obvious.
‘I know,’ I shoot back, frustration bubbling over. I rise to my feet and pace, too agitated to try again.
‘Maybe what you can do will be enough,’ Snake says. ‘We have a few hours before we need to get ready. Perhaps we should rest for a bit. It might be a long night.’
I humph, aware that Snake is being amazingly supportive and I’m acting like a spoilt brat. While Snake pulls a jumper on, I continue to pace. He lies down and drops a cap over his eyes to block out the light.
I place my pack down beside his, pull out my denim jacket, and use it as a blanket as I rest my head on my bag. My mind is buzzing with pent-up energy and frustration. Too restless to sleep, I roll on my side and stare out the windows. Snake is snoring gently, and this only frustrates me more. I’m not going to be able to sleep like this.
Being as silent as I can, I put my jacket on and let myself outside. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I slip in my earbuds before scrolling through my playlist. I start listening to “She Speeds” by Straightjacket Fits, but quickly change it. It may be one of my current favourites, but it doesn’t suit my mood. Then I spot “Mascara” by Killing Heidi. The kick-ass female anthem is exactly what I need.
As I sing along to the chorus, I think of the number of times Mum has told me you can put lipstick on a pig, it is still a pig. Killing Heidi and Mum have hit the nail on the head. Deep down I’m afraid calling myself an elf doesn’t make me one.
I walk over to the lake in front of the manor house and stare at the dome of the Underwater Ballroom. As the sun begins to set, I find a seat nearby and skim a few pebbles across the water before sitting down.
I remove my earbuds and put them and my phone back in my pocket, happy to sit here and listen to nature and the faint rumble of cars in the distance. Snake’s father said I need to accept who I am if I’m to make a flame. But how can I do that when I don’t know anything about being an elf?
‘I’m an elf,’ I say out loud, as if the words will somehow make it more real. Instead, I just feel stupid. I swing my legs, admiring my purple Converse high-tops before dropping my feet to the ground and scuffing the gravel.
What more can I do? What if my beginning of a flame is not enough? What if they won’t let me into The Court? I can’t let Snake face this without me. He said he will speak for my parents, but we started this together, and we should finish it the same way.
I kick out again, and a spray of gravel spatters into the water, causing droplets to disturb a cat sleeping in the last of the sun. It turns its head accusingly towards me.
‘Sorry, puss—my bad.’
It lazily stands and moves until it is directly in front of me. I reach down to pet it, wondering what it is about black cats and this trip. The cat avoids my touch and pads towards the water. Halfway there, it pauses and glances over its shoulder. In international cat language, I am pretty sure this means ‘Follow me.’
Rising to my feet, a smile tugs at my lips. If attempting magic is not bad enough, now I am following a cat. How strange my life has become in less than a week.
My feline friend stops at the water’s edge and looks down, as if staring at its own reflection. I drop to my knees on the grass beside him and lean over so I can see what he is staring at. In the water is an image of me… and the cat, of course.
My face reflects how weary I am. I run a hand over my eyes, and as it drops back to my side, the image shifts and ripples, like someone dropped a stone in the water. When it settles again, the person staring back at me still has my blue eyes, but my face is longer and thinner, my hair is silver-white, and… oh my god, my ears are pointed! I reach up to check, but the tips of my ears feel as round as they ever were.
I turn to the cat, and it meets my gaze. I swear his look says, ‘See, this is who you are.’
Thinking I must have dreamed it, I drop my gaze back to the water. The silver-haired me is still staring back. Is this the real me, this strange, alien creature? In this moment, my world completely shatters, and yet, somewhere inside, I know this person in the reflection is more me than I have ever been. For a moment, the image shimmers, and then my usual face is back. The cat nudges me.
‘What now?’ I ask, still reeling from the undeniable truth that I really am an elf.
It sits in front of me like Snake had, waiting patiently.
‘Oh, I get it,’ I say, holding out my hand. It’s time to make a flame.
I take a deep breath and let the magic flow through me. Before I form the flame, I give myself a pep talk. ‘Right, elf girl. If you are going to do this, you are going to do it Pris style.’
In my mind, I envisage my flame. ‘Lasair,’ I whisper. A glow starts to form on my hand, then I allow it to take shape. The flame grows, flickers, and almost splutters out. ‘Not this time,’ I tell it. ‘You are mine,’ I say, forcing it to appear as it did in my mind. It holds for one… two… three seconds before it disappears.
‘I did it,’ I tell the cat, and it simply stares at me, as if it knew I could do it all along, before standing, flicking his tail, and sauntering over to the bushes.
‘Thank you,’ I yell after him, not worrying how crazy I sound talking to a cat.
Standing up, I do a little happy dance. I just cast my first honest-to-god spell Harry Potter style, and it was incredible!
Once I calm down and return to the conference centre, I walk as if I’m floating on air, with a stupid grin plastered on my face. I did it. I cast a spell and—I pause midstep—I am a freaking elf princess.
CHAPTER 12
The Underground Ballroom
Pris snores. I would like to say it’s a delicate sound befitting someone of royal stature but, quite honestly, a freight train is what comes to mind. I force myself to my feet and stretch out the kinks. The room is all shadow and moonlight. It is late, but my alarm hasn’t gone off, so I still have a bit of time.
I creep out into the reception area to make some coffee to wake me up, then have a better idea. I wonder if this big old building has somewhere to shower.
The toilets off the reception area are just that. I wander along the corridor and spot what I’m looking for: a sign for a gym. It is in an annex, and I find showers in the changing rooms, along with a good supply of large, fluffy towels.
Standing under the steaming hot water, all the knots and strains leave my body. I am fresher and more awake, and I smell pretty damn good as well, all pine and sandalwood. I wrap myself in one of the complimentary robes, roll my dirty clothes into a ball, and head back to the conference room.
By the time I get there, Pris is awake and rubbing sleep from her eyes.
‘Your alarm went off and I couldn’t stop it.’ Her tone is accusatory, and I grin at her.
‘Not a morning person?’ I ask.
She glares back and snaps, ‘This is not morning.’ Her eyes widen as she takes in my attire. ‘What are you wearing?’
‘Would your evening start a little better if I tell you I found showers?’ I tease.
She rises gracefully to her feet and says, ‘I would kill for a shower, and I will kill you if you don’t give up their location immediately.’
I grin as she gathers her toilet bag and clothes, and I point her in the right direction. Once she leaves, I go about dressing. The moon provides enough light to pull my clothes on, but I use the bathroom mirror to shave and tidy my hair.
I stare at my reflection in frustration. The black open-necked shirt with a subtle purple stripe is perfect for an evening function, and I definitely look ready, except for my damn hair. No matter what I do, it keeps flopping over my forehead. My mother would have something that would sort it for the evening. My heart wrenches at the thought of her.
‘I’m coming, Mum,’ I say to my reflection as I flick my hair out of my eyes. I sigh. It will have to do.
Returning to the conference room, I tidy up and look around for somewhere to secure our packs. The only place to leave them out of sight is behind the coffee bar next door. I remove my token before I haul mine around the back, leaving Pris’s behind, not sure if she is finished with it yet.
As I check to make sure no one can see my bag from the reception side of the bar, a noise from behind startles me and I turn, ready to confront the intruder. I stop dead in my tracks. My jaw drops, and I close my mouth again quickly, not wanting to appear like an idiot.
I have dated girls, and have even taken them to some swanky places. But I swear none of them have ever taken my breath away as Pris does now.
She wears a simple shift dress with purple and blue flowers growing up it from the bottom, leaving the bodice white. Her hair is pulled back into a loose plait, but she has left tendrils hanging down around her face, and they dance with some fine silver earrings she has threaded through holes in her ears I didn’t even know she had. She must also have done some sort of makeup thing because her blue eyes almost leap from her face, and her lips glisten as she smiles shyly.
‘Do I look okay?’ she asks as she pulls a midnight-blue shawl from a shopping bag.
I want to tell her she has almost stopped my heart, she is so beautiful. ‘You…. Um… yes.’ Not my best work, but quite honestly, I can’t think straight, let alone form a complete sentence.
‘I’m still a bit worried. I mean, we look pretty good, but this is a ball. I’m pretty sure we will be underdressed.’
I shrug. ‘We were not able to buy tuxes and ball gowns in Godalming. Besides, I think we did pretty well to remember not to turn up in jeans and tees.’ I run my hand through my hair, pushing my fringe out of my eyes again. Pris frowns.
‘Here, let me sort that,’ she says as she pops the bag containing her old clothes onto the floor. Rummaging in a toilet bag the size of my day pack, she pulls out a container. Before I am able to tell her I’m fine, she is in front of me, rubbing something on her hands. Reaching up, she runs her fingers through my hair.
My senses overload. I smell roses and spring air, and the touch of her fingers on my scalp sends a shiver down my spine. I close my eyes and lose myself in the sensation. If my night ended now, I would be in heaven.
Looking down, I find two startling blue eyes staring up at me. I give myself over to the moment and lower my head, pressing my lips to hers. They are soft and taste faintly of strawberries. As I deepen the kiss, Pris responds, and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her body against mine.
Electricity runs through me, and the touch of her hands down my back increases the sensation. I shift so I can fit her closer to me. I run my tongue along her lips, and she sighs, leaning into me. Everything except for the taste, the smell, and the touch of her is driven from my mind. Have we time before the….
I freeze. The Midnight Ball. I take a step back. This is not just Pris, my friend. This is Princess Priscilla, cousin to the Elven Queen. Could there be a more forbidden fruit?
With swollen lips, Pris looks up at me, confusion written on her face. Every fibre of my being wants to pull her back into my arms, but I take another step away.
