The Spell of Rosette - Kim Falconer [135]
‘That’s not really comforting.’
‘Rosette, it’s going to get…challenging.’
Rosette thought of the meeting with the Lupins, the release of magic that had dropped her to her knees, Drayco in the snow unconscious and the Sword Master face down, Scylla’s blood turning the ice red…Kreshkali’s strange words. Her escape. The avalanche.
She pursed her lips. ‘Going to get challenging?’
Nell laughed. ‘Keep that sense of humour, girl, and you might just come out in one piece! Can you sleep?’
‘Yes, if everyone would leave me alone.’ Rosette yawned massively.
‘The good thing about the northern nights is they last for so long. You’ll be able to get eight hours before dawn if you can keep your hands off Jarrod.’
Heat flushed Rosette’s cheeks in spite of the glacial wind. ‘I’ve always had a strong attraction to him,’ she said through violently chattering teeth.
‘I know.’ Nell led the way back to the warmth of the cave.
‘We all have,’ she added under her breath. ‘He’s in our blood, too.’
Rosette ran her hand across the furs that Jarrod had laid out. ‘Can I sleep with you?’ she asked.
Jarrod unlaced his boots and placed them next to the hearth. ‘That would be my pleasure.’
Rosette snuggled in, pulling the furs up to her chin. ‘I’m so tired,’ she yawned.
Jarrod buried his face in the back of her neck. She turned her head to kiss him. The sweetness of his lips on hers, his hands shifting to the small of her back and the brush of his eyelashes on her face sent a rush of warmth through her body.
‘Thanks for the rescue,’ she said, her eyes closing.
‘When we’re out of danger, you can thank me properly.’
But she barely heard him. She was already walking in her dreams.
There’s a handclap, or is it thunder?
A voice in the dark speaks to me.
‘I want to show you something,’ it says.
It’s a strong voice and masculine—I don’t recognise it, but it’s so familiar…
‘Who are you?’
‘You’d call me the Entity.’
‘I doubt it. I don’t know anyone by that name.’
‘I believe you do.’
It’s misty and humid, the ground sodden and the air thickened by a brown fog. My skin tingles, nostrils burn.
‘Where is this place?’
‘You don’t know?’
‘I wouldn’t have asked if I did.’
‘Come,’ the voice commands. ‘Come and see what has happened to your world.’
I know this isn’t my world. It looks dead, and Gaela is not dead.
The fog gives way to a dark street. Rain is falling and the droplets sting. There are pools of brown water in the potholes. I’m glad I’ve got my boots on.
‘Keep your eyes covered. Don’t let the water touch your lips.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s acid.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘It’s poison.’
I flip up my hood and keep my eyes down. I’m walking along the edge of a street under enormous buildings. Very ugly. They are ominous in the dark, some of them glowing with eerie lights. It feels like eyes watching.
‘If the water is poison, how does anything live?’
‘It doesn’t.’
My head lifts at a sound in the distance.
‘Something lives. Look there.’
A dark figure with booted feet approaches—a man, I think. As they come closer, another figure, slighter in build but just as tall, slips through a strange wire fence and is blocked by the man. They’re struggling. Then a sound explodes in the air like a firecracker and the man drops to the ground. The other bends over him, going through pockets, taking things.
‘What is this place?’ I whisper the question this time.
I feel the Entity pull at my mind.
‘Earth.’ It tugs harder. ‘Quickly,’ it says. ‘She’ll not be pleased that I brought you here.’
‘Who won’t be pleased?’
The Entity ignores my question. ‘I want to show you how things can be—a different possibility.’
In an instant the street and towering buildings blur. Everything turns into tiny little squares, opaque puzzle pieces that slowly brighten with colour and light. The scene in front of me opens into a broad expanse of parkland. There are flowers and vegetables spilling out of their beds, young trees stretching towards a bright sun and fountains of water gushing up, refracting the light into countless rainbows.