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“Change,” I direct her to enter behind the curtain. Arabelle follows my instructions, no argument needed. When fight or flight sets in, the Princess is narrow minded. She can complete a test, no problem, but always to the cost of herself. She forgets to check her wounds, shed her wet clothing, hunt for food before she’s racked with hunger.
I’ve vowed to protect her, but I won’t be seen holding her hand to do it. Part of her training, which I crafted, is learning to trust her gut. Fundamental lessons which aren’t teachable but are wholly necessary. She has to feel how to act on instinct, how to make split decisions within a second from losing her life and know not to regret them. No matter the cost.
While Arabelle changes into dry clothes from her waterproof backpack, I do the same on the other side of the curtain. She knows better than to look, not that she would. For ‘Cash’ as he’s been renamed, maybe, but not me. A bond has formed over the years, one too much like siblingship to deny. Whereas Cash drifts further from me every day, the business of a Queen’s Jester keeping him thoroughly entertained, Arabelle and I spend most days together. Morning jogs around the Kingdom, combat training before lunch, followed by a tutor session which I provide in the afternoons. The mind is as sharp a tool as any weapon.
“What is this place?” the Princess asks, wiping the curtain down to rest her damp clothes on the rail. I place mine there too, aiding her to carry it closer to the fire.
“It was supposed to be a train station,” I sigh, peering around the walls. Shadows cling to the random splodges of paint on the brick wall. Rain pelts on the metal roof, only saved from the lightning by handmade pylons postered on all four corners outside.
“Supposed to be?” Arabelle asks, lowering into a cross legged sit on a beanbag. “Is it not?”
“What it should be, it isn’t. And what it isn’t, it is. If it were so, it would be, but it’s not so it ain’t.”
“That’s logic,” Arabelle nods, a beaming big smile on her face. I pat her red curly head, retrieving some snack bars from our separate bags. We’ve packed individually, in case of a separation. “I like when you talk like that,” she muses, biting into her bar. I huff. I do not. It reminds me of a time I don’t bother dwelling on. When I had no care in the world and the only thing I knew how to do was talk nonsense.
“Cash and I spent a considerable amount of time in these woods in our teenage years. More so me, as he decided early on, he’d hide by the entrance and wait for me to complete whatever task your mother had set us. But on the few occasions he joined me, we would stay here. Work on building the train outside. It was supposed to take us to another world,” I bitterly chuckle to myself and hang my head.
“To the world where Alice is?” Arabelle breathes. I knew indulging her curiosity would lead here, to the one topic I refuse to speak about. But maybe it’s time I opened the pandoras box I keep locked tight in my mind and delve into why exactly I struggle with this subject. The mere mention of Alice. Arabelle shuffles her bean bag closer, blinking up at me with large questioning eyes. “What was so special about her?”
“Its not so much her, per se,” I shrug, using a stick to shift the fire’s kindling. “But the chaos she brought. Whereas we were all bumbling along, playing the only roles we knew, she made us question everything. She re-wrote the world we knew, turning the whimsical on its head. Everything was great before her, but when she left, the realm grew cold.”
I shudder, uneasy with the ink spill of tainted memories filtering through my mind. My chest grows tight, the bitter taste of regret lingering on the back of my tongue. Not just from Alice’s sudden disappearance, but the unknown of what happened to her, where she is, if she’s even alive and the knowledge of what took place after. A dungeon filled with misfits, comforting one another in the dark while the royal trials killed us off one by one. I lost more than I knew I had, but I would always have Cash. No matter how distant he forces himself to be.
“Alice is an idea, that’s all. A fantasy to cling onto when the world seems bleak, because not to have a dream is to resign altogether.”
“So, she’s your dream then? Your perfect fantasy?” Arabelle leans closer. I push to my feet, strolling to squint through a crack in the wall. The rain slams fiercely against the platform, creating a flood in the dip below. Lifting a stone from the ground, I mark off the tally on the inside of the brick, studying the rise of blizzards with each visit.
“We should be safe to leave in fifty-two minutes. Eat, rest up and make sure not to leave anything behind.” Particularly your scent, I finish in my mind. The creatures of this wood may have been lab-created, but they’re evolving. Adapting to their environment, reproducing with other species.
Arabelle obeys, shuffling her fresh fatigues into a tiny ball in the bean bag and closes her eyes for a brief, power nap. Turning my back on the wall, I lean back, assessing her. So small, yet wise and as tough as steel. It's times like this, I remember just how young the Princess really is. In a culture where we have been forced to age faster, the lines between our development and mentality merge into a mess of hormones and emotion. The overriding one for me was anger, yet Arabelle has yet to display any. She takes her training in her stride, compartmentalizing better than I ever could. For now, at least.
Trudging through the lengthy grass along the riverbank, we trail the water’s edge as a rare blink of sunshine shines down. Not warm in any sense, but the mere yellow hue does much to boost Arabelle’s mood. She’s too used to the glorious weather that covers her home every day of the year. A mystery to us all, myself included. While the rest of the realm has fallen into gloomy darkness, the Red Kingdom thrives. With a skip in her step, she tries to venture ahead and I hold out my arm to prevent it. Tapping my temple, I warn her to keep her wits.
The river veers into a cave, gleaming against the illuminated cracks amongst the rock. Splashing my boots into its shallow depths, I steady myself for the vision I stumbled onto a few years ago. Not even Cash knows about this place. A solitary secret I’ve kept, until now. A soft blue glow awaits at the other side of the cave, which is more like a tunnel. Despite myself, I slip my hand into Arabelle’s small one, steeling us both. Her eyes shoot to mine, a crinkle in her brows at the unusual affection, until we breach the opening and her confusion is forgotten.
“Woah,” she breathes, and I nod. A cavern opens up before us, taller than the palace and possibly as wide. The river dips beneath a cover of crystallized cloud across the ground, swirling in tiers towards the ceiling. Shifting from the purest of icy blues to the depths of sea green, the clouds shift slowly, every spark of crystal imbedded within catching the light from above. Across the other side, an archway of similar color awaits.
“This way,” I tell Arabelle, not releasing her hand. Slowly carving a path through the cloud, her hold tightens on mine just before I ease us through the archway. Cloud consumes our vision, shifting over our skin with a trace of water droplets. Breaching the other side, my face tingles, my body alive with awareness. A gasp is torn from my side, Arabelle’s mouth dropped open as our final destination trickles into view.
“Where…what…?”
“I call it the magician’s library, as I’ve yet to hear of another name for it.” Bookshelves line the edges of our vision, this space and time not appearing to have defined walls. Floating above the ground, the bookcases stretch for as far as I can see and as long as I’ve dared walk. Across the expanse, the cloud drifts along the ground to a portal. Sparkling blue, inviting and alluring. To where, who knows. Tilting Arabelle’s chin upwards, I raise her eyes to the swirling, endless moon hovering above.
“Tweed,” she whispers, not wanting to disturb the serenity. “It’s stunning.” I have to agree. The cloud, floating around the portal and up to the lunar sphere, feeds it with a million crystals, all churning in a never-ending spiral of beauty. “Y-you think the heart jewel is here?” Arabelle clocks on to the reason for our venture, eyeing the bookshelves with a trace of panic in her eyes. I release her hand now, shoving mine into my pocket to retrieve the sketch.
“Not quite,” I lift the sketch into the air, tugging her closer to peer through my eye level. Beyond the page, on top of the arched portal, sits a particularly similar stone. One I’d committed to memory as the most cherished piece of treasure I’ll ever set eyes on. Now I have to steal it.
“Oh Tweed, we can’t. I don’t care what my mother wants it for. This place…it’s too sacred,” my companion fumbles, yet my feet are already moving.
“We’re all slaves, Princess. Slaves who are given pockets of freedom to hold the revolts at bay, but slaves none the less. We abide by the will of our captor or lose our heads.” The cloud concealing the trickle of the stream beneath my feet wafts against my swift movements, my haste to get this over with riding me hard. Unlike any of my previous visits, I don’t want to lose myself in the splendors of this alternate world. To wonder and ponder until I curl up and fall asleep on a shelf amongst the hardbacks.
I have a job to do, that’s all. A command to fulfill in order to maintain my position as Knave. Nothing is too valuable. No gem too precious. If the Queen demands it, it is to be hers, whether retrieved by me or the army she has at her beck and call. At least I have the good sense to not destroy the rest of this heavenly place, as they would. Arabelle is at my back in a second, tugging on my arm and asking me to think. Clearly our lessons haven’t been successful.
“There’s no point questioning our orders,” I whip my arm from her hold. “And you can’t fail your first real test. This is where you prove yourself Arabelle. The Kingdom is watching for your success and our enemies are waiting for you to fail.” Spurred by my words, the Princess stills her arguing. Sighing, she falls into step at my side, resigned to her fate. Not that she had a choice. Not if she wants to take charge of her future.
Nearing the portal, the pull latches onto our bodies. An invisible tie, trying to drag us inside. I steady my boots, forcing one foot in front of the other to near the edge of the void. A golden frame arches around the edge, adjoining in the top center where the jewel heart pulses from the inside. Bursts of red and blue, brightening and dimming, igniting the network of veins inside. The exterior appears tough, like tinted crystals melded into one another, but it’s the grid of golden webbing attaching it to the frame I’m worried about. Too thick for our blade to cut, too many to yank free.
Testing the sturdiness of the frame, I climb, using the grip of my boots for traction. Halfway up, the cloud from the ground swirls higher, barring my view. Wafting it aside, the heart jewel gleams from above and I continue to climb. The cloud thickens, clogging my throat. I cough, the condensation droplets causing my hands to slip. Shaking the mist from around my face, I spy Arabelle on the ground, her gaze also fixed on the gem.
