A Gift of Three by Bella Forrest
“Does that mean danger or something?” Jovi asked, tracing his finger along the lines.
“Or it’s where a territory has been reduced,” Field remarked. “Maybe the cities were once much larger than they are now.”
“There are no pathways shown,” noted Jovi. “When we leave, we’ll have to cross through the jungle for miles before we reach any kind of civilization.”
“And we don’t know how safe they are,” Field remarked. “What I saw were walled cities—I could hardly see inside them. Like I said, not inviting.”
“Well, if this area’s as dangerous as the Druid said it is, maybe that’s not surprising. We don’t know what they’re trying to keep out,” I replied.
“Maybe they’re keeping out the Druid,” Jovi speculated.
“All that for one Druid?” I asked—it didn’t seem likely to me. He might have been powerful, but walls so high that even Field hadn’t been able to see into them seemed a bit like overkill.
“Don’t underestimate him,” Field warned me. “We don’t know anything yet—let’s make sure we stay on guard.”
“He knows a lot about us,” Jovi mused. “I mean, if it’s so dangerous to leave the house, how did he get to us? He knew what GASP was, knew about our kind—he knew I was a werewolf, and didn’t seem surprised by your presence.” He turned to Field. “He’s way ahead of us.”
“Then that’s something we need to remedy,” Field replied. “Start checking all the maps. What we need is a bigger one, one that will show us where we are in relation to the fae stars.”
I started pulling down the largest maps I could see, sliding their heavy paper out of the cylindrical containers and laying them down flat wherever there was space. Many of them were useless, either replicas of the one we’d just found, or of entirely different places, their annotations written in languages I couldn’t understand. We even found a few of Earth—America, Africa, Europe—old maps that must have been from centuries ago, detailing countries with old names that were no longer in existence.
“I think we have to assume that whoever lived here before was just a collector,” I stated eventually, feeling like I’d looked at hundreds of maps that were no use to us whatsoever. The sky was also darkening. We’d opened a window to let in some air—not that it helped much since it was so humid. The sky was red and gold, the sun setting rapidly, leaving the swamps covered in darkness, and only the tips of the mountains and highest reaches of the jungle were still bathed in light.
“When do you think we go down for dinner?” Jovi asked, following my gaze out of the window.
“Not sure. Maybe we’ll be called?” I speculated.
Both of them looked at me.
“What?” I replied. “He seems old-fashioned, don’t you think? Inviting us to ‘dine’ with him—it seems like whatever he is, he’s also under the pretense of being a gentleman.”
Jovi guffawed. “A gentleman? I’m leaning toward serial killer if anything,” he replied, looking at me in disbelief.
“I actually think Serena’s right,” Field added. “I think if we join him tonight, and try to keep our manners in check”—he looked pointedly at Jovi—“then we might get some of the answers we need.”
“I think Serena’s our best bet on that,” Jovi argued.
“What do you mean?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“Druid or not, he’s still a man, and I don’t think he’s immune to…you know, your charm,” he teased.
“Oh, knock it off,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “Field’s right. We eat with him, we ask questions, we try to be polite, and then we get our friends and get out of here. There will be no femme fatale part of the plan—we’re not in a spy movie, Jovi.”
He shrugged. “Whatever… I still think you should lead the questions.”
“I’m happy to do that,” I retorted, “but more because of my budding journalism skills than anything else. I’m going to have a shower before we go down—I’m covered in dust and boiling hot. See you all downstairs?”
“No,” Jovi corrected, “see you at the top of the staircase—we go down together.”
“Fine,” I replied, “see you shortly.”
I left the room, already looking forward to a cold shower. I wished I had something to wear other than my pajamas though—not only did I feel embarrassingly underdressed for when we left the house to trek though miles of jungle, but my clothes were also filthy and covered in a layer of dust and grime that would make me feel instantly dirty again the moment I got clean.
As I walked to my room, I kept my eyes averted from the stuffed animals and the grotesque ceiling. I thought about what Jovi had said, about the Druid noticing my ‘charms’—I kind of wanted to punch Jovi for making a comment like that, but I also wondered how true it was. I recalled the way the Druid had stared at my hand clasped in Jovi’s, and how uncomfortable that had made me feel…I wasn’t really sure why.
Serena
[Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]
I re-entered the room I’d been in when I arrived and checked the door on the other side of the room, correctly guessing that it was a bathroom. I sighed with relief when I noticed a small copper bath and an old-fashioned shower head. The tub was full of cobwebs, but there was an old, only slightly moth-eaten towel hanging on the back of the door. I tried the taps first, not worried if there wasn’t any hot water—I would definitely only be using cold. To my surprise, after a short gurgling of pipes, the water flowed from the showerhead forcefully, and there was both hot and cold water available. Next I searched under the sink for some soap, finding a thick block of it wrapped in rotting tissue paper.
I gave the tub a rinse and then stepped under the faucet, reveling in the feeling of the water beating against my skin. I closed my eyes, trying not to picture Phoenix and my friends lying on those eerie-looking hospital beds, but it was an image that hadn’t really left my mind since I’d first seen them—no matter how hard I’d tried to focus on getting out of here.
I used the bar of soap to clean myself, even using it on my hair, whilst vainly wishing for Corrine’s herbal concoction back in The Shade. Once I was satisfied, I stepped out, grimacing as I used the towel. It smelt of mold, but it wasn’t as bad as when I later put my pajamas back on, discarding the robe. They were filthy. Feeling like the entire shower process had been a bit of a waste of time, I stepped back into the bedroom, opening the nearest window and catching the last of the sun’s rays before it dipped down completely. I looked around the room for a lamp, noticing one by the table. It was another oil lamp, with a set of damp matches next to it—but a significant amount of kerosene remained in the base. After a few tries, I finally got one of the matches to light and held the flame to the wick. It lit, casting the room in a yellow glow.
I wondered, not for the first time, how these old-fashioned human-looking objects happened to be in the depths of the In-Between. Everything I’d seen so far looked like it was straight out of the eighteen hundreds…how had it gotten here? Perhaps another question for our taciturn kidnapper this evening.
Leaving my room, I made my way back along the hallway to the staircase. I couldn’t hear any sign of Field or Jovi, and was too tired to use True Sight to find their location. It also wasn’t a good idea to do that while people were getting dressed…
While I waited, I noticed a large velvet curtain covering the far end of the hallway wall. I must have missed it when Jovi and I were looking around, and with all the junk surrounding it, I could see why. Now I was curious, and walked up to it, tugging at one end to pull it across. Behind it was another painting, just as gruesome as the ones on the ceiling, perhaps more so.
The painting was in oil like the others, and it depicted a single image—a demonic creature, riding on the back of a black-winged horse. The creature was half man, half snake, its tail wound around the body of the horse, squeezing its middle so the horse appeared to be silently screaming in pain. The upper part of the snake was a man—pale-skinned, muscular a
No wonder someone had wanted that covered.
Turning back to the staircase, I began to grow impatient. I wanted to see my brother and friends, to check that they were okay. I tried to listen out for Field and Jovi, becoming further irritated when I heard the sounds of a shower running. They must have remained in the map room for a while after I’d left. Not willing to wait, I grabbed a book from one of the nearest piles and tore out the first page. I looked around for something to write with, but, finding nothing, I made my way back to the map room, where I’d seen pencils standing in a pot.
I scrawled quickly on the piece of paper:
‘Gone down to see the others. Meet me there. Sorry. Serena.’
I hurried back to the staircase and left the paper on the banister where they’d see it. Satisfied, I descended the stairs, being careful to avoid the weakened wood. When I reached the main entrance, I found my way back to the room where we’d first come across the Druid. The door was shut. I used True Sight to see if he was there, but couldn’t make anything out—I was near useless now, and either the food this evening was going to need to be packed with protein, or I’d need to ask one of the boys if they could help me out.
The door was unlocked, so I stepped into the room, staring aghast at the still roaring fire. What was this Druid’s deal? The room was hotter than hell, and I quickly made my way to the opposite door and descended the staircase, sighing in relief as the cool, damp air relieved the torture.
I paused in the doorway, partly relieved to see that they were still there, and partly dismayed. The panting was still as aggressive as it had been earlier, and I wondered if it was because they were in some kind of pain—locked in their bodies somehow so they couldn’t escape. I walked over to my brother first and felt his forehead. It wasn’t as damp as it had been earlier, which I guessed might have been a sign of improvement. I moved over to Aida, and then lastly to Vita. All of them felt less damp and cold, but other than that they were unchanged. Not knowing what else to do, I started to explore the rest of the room, but I couldn’t find much—just a few empty drawers, and more bookshelves that were devoid of any reading material.
I jumped as someone cleared their throat behind me. It was the Druid, standing in the doorway, his gray eyes gazing at me intently.
“Sorry,” I muttered, instantly irritated at myself for apologizing.
“Dinner is ready,” he replied.
I nodded, swallowing. He stood to one side of the doorway, gesturing that I leave first. With a final glance at my friends, I walked to the exit and made my way up the stairs. I felt unsettled as I walked, feeling the Druid watching me as I ascended.
Serena
[Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]
The Druid took the lead once we reached the ground floor. I followed him, eventually arriving in a large room that Jovi and I hadn’t seen when we’d explored earlier. Field and Jovi were standing by a heavily adorned banquet table, both of them frowning at me.
“We told you to wait, Serena,” Jovi said to me, ignoring the Druid completely.
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I wanted to see them.”
“How are they?” Field asked.
“The same. They don’t feel as cold as they did earlier…but I don’t know, that might be my imagination.”
“It’s not,” the Druid cut in. “Their temperature should start returning to normal now. I think the worst of it is over.”
“I thought you’d never seen this before,” Jovi shot back, frowning at the Druid.
“From what I have read,” he replied tersely, “that is what to expect.”
I gave Jovi a look of warning. We needed to keep the Druid placated if we wanted any of our questions answered. Jovi nodded stiffly, pulling back a chair to sit down. The Druid watched him, and after a few moments took a seat at the far end of the table.
I took a proper look at what had been put before us. There were about nine settings made, all with glasses, cutlery, and a plate covered with a silver warming dish. Were we being joined by others? I silently took my seat, glancing down at where the Druid sat. There was no food placed before him, only a single glass filled with water.
“Eat,” the Druid commanded, gesturing to the plates in front of us. I removed the dish warmer, quietly praying that whatever was beneath it would be edible. I was pleasantly surprised. The food smelt good—there was a husk of corn, a substantial-looking brown grain dish, and some strange grass shoots that looked like they’d been steamed. I picked up my fork.
“Wait,” Jovi called out. I looked up, startled. He turned to the Druid. “Why aren’t you eating?” he asked.
“I’ve already eaten,” the Druid replied calmly. “I suppose you think the food is poisoned?”
“Are you surprised?” Jovi retorted.
The Druid sighed and rose from his chair. He made his way toward me and I thought he was going to stop, but he continued, reaching Field’s chair.
“May I?” the Druid asked, picking up Field’s fork.
“Go ahead,” Field replied, crossing his arms and leaning back from the table.
The Druid speared a grass shoot, and then, turning to face Jovi, he placed it in his mouth, chewing with deliberate slowness till he had finished. He handed the fork back to Field, and then returned to his seat.
“Satisfied?” he asked, glaring at us all.
I nodded, picking up my own fork and giving Jovi another warning look. He muttered something under his breath, but proceeded to eat. I joined him, but started to grow increasingly uncomfortable as the Druid’s gaze lingered on me.
“So, questions,” I said, putting down my cutlery.
The Druid eyed me with amusement, leaning back and gazing at me as if in challenge.
“First, tell us about this ‘transformation’. What exactly is happening to our friends?” I asked, determined not to be put off by his amusement. If he thought all this was funny, then good for him—but I was absolutely terrified for my friends, and failed to see how he could treat it as some kind of game or joke.
“Right to the heart of the matter,” he conceded, the smile vanishing from his face. “I will get to your question, but let me tell it in my own way, as I think you will understand me better.” He paused as if waiting for one of us to say something. “May I?” he asked.
“You may,” I replied slowly, wondering why he was suddenly so accommodating. “As long as it gets to the point,” I clarified.
He nodded, and I glanced at Field and Jovi—both of them were leaning forward, food forgotten as they waited for the Druid to speak.
“A while ago, some years now, my father and I were visited by an Oracle. She was known to only a few Druids, and that was mostly by myth. Most of us hardly believed that the stories were true. Her story was known to us all… she was born of an Ancient and a jinni, and her parents had hidden her long ago in a land that was far from here.”
At this, I glanced over at Jovi and Field. He must be talking about the same Oracle who had lived in Nevertide and visited us in The Shade, the supposed ‘fairy godmother’ of my brother and friends. Jovi met my eye and subtly shook his head, warning me not to say anything. I glanced over at the Druid, but he hadn’t noticed us. He looked deep in thought, as if he’d almost forgotten he had an audience.
“She came to my father and me,” he continued, “begging help. She wanted us to protect her from Azazel and his creatures. We agreed, of course. My father and I have sworn to always protect the Oracle from harm.”
“Who’s Azazel?” I asked. I’d never heard the name before.
The Druid’s gaze flickered in my direction, and he seemed mildly surprised at the question, frowning as he replied, as if the mere name was distasteful to him. “Azazel is the self-proclaimed ruler of this land—o
“And he wanted this Oracle, I take it? The one who visited you?” I clarified.
“Exactly,” he murmured. “The moment she left the protections of Nevertide, she was seen—the Oracle he already had in his service saw her coming to Eritopia the moment she entered your ‘Shade’, and told Azazel of her presence.”
I was surprised by the involvement of another Oracle. First, that there was more than one of these freaks of nature alive, and secondly, wasn’t there loyalty between the species? It seemed cruel to sell out another of their kind that way. The Druid saw my look of surprise, and shook his head.
“Don’t judge too harshly—the Oracles live for a long time, and Azazel is viciously cruel. We don’t know what he might have promised her in return for the information, or what he might have done to get it out of her. Once an Oracle is in Azazel’s hands, there is no escape.”
“So what happened?” I asked, urging him on. It was starting to become obvious, from the absence of both the Druid’s father and the Oracle, that this story didn’t have a happy ending.
“By the time the Oracle reached us, she knew already that it was too late. Unable to communicate with us in time, she landed some distance away, outside the safety of our home. My father and I went to collect her, arriving moments before Azazel and his creatures. My father battled him, throwing me out of sight so that I might live. Her last words to me and my father were about your friends.”
The Druid glanced at us all in turn. He seemed reluctant to continue his story, and anxiety knotted in my stomach.