Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy) (3 page)

BOOK: Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy)
11.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

with a small smile to try and lighten the mood.

Corrona gives me a disapproving look, obviously not enjoying

my humour. “Yes, I know. She only takes boys. Dominic said

that’s because they are normally stronger.”

I sit there and ponder over what Corrona has just told me.

It does answer the question of why every guardian has to have

an air affinity, yet I just can’t bring myself to believe in another

world. I am not saying Corrona is being untrue. She truly

believes in what she is saying, but I just can’t accept such an

explanation. I leave shortly after, but our conversation rattles

around in my head.

 

The village is quiet as I pass through the empty streets. I start

to walk a little bit faster. I feel as if I am being watched. I glance

around me, seeing nothing, yet the feeling of being watched

doesn’t leave. On the square, there are still a few lanterns lit,

but the light doesn’t touch the shadows.

“Aren’t you pretty?” I turn around and have to crane my neck

back to look up at a drunken guardian. Funny how he manages

to get alcohol. He is over six feet tall and bulky. I turn to leave,

but he grabs my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I am going home.” My voice shakes as I speak.

“Sir… That is how you will address me.” He pulls my arm,

dragging me behind him to a side street.

My stomach drops; panic sets in. I hit him with my free arm,

making no impact. “Let me go!” I protest. He pushes me up

against a wall of a house. I try to protect my stomach as best I

can.

“You know, you have no manners. Maybe I should teach you

some.”

I am about to scream, but then Morrick is there, standing behind my attacker. He is over six foot tall with jet-black hair

that falls just below his jawline. I can see a muscle tense as

he looks at my attacker’s back. His eyes shoot up to me, deep

grey eyes surrounded by long black eyelashes that still take my

breath away.

I watch as he places a knife at the man’s ever-paling face.

“Taurus, release the lady at once.”

Taurus raises his hands in the air. “Forgive me, your

highness.”

I move away from the wall after being freed from Taurus’s

arms. Morrick’s hands are visibly shaking with temper. I can

see the knife sink into Taurus’s cheek as blood trickles down

his face. “King Morrick,” I say to make him stop, and he does

immediately, sheathing his knife.

“Apologise to the lady,” he tells Taurus through gritted teeth.

Taurus stands and faces me, all his drunkenness gone. “Sorry,

ma’am, for my actions.”

I harrumph. “Leave now,” Morrick orders, but I can see he

wants nothing more than to hurt him. Taurus bows and walks

away. That just leaves me and Morrick, who does not come any

closer, in case someone is watching us. “Are you hurt?” he asks

while averting his gaze to my stomach.

“No, your highness, I am fine.” I keep with the formalities

also.

He moves beside me and his closeness makes me look

around. He bends his head and whispers in my ear, “You look

so beautiful with our child growing inside you.”

I freeze with fear and excitement at what he is saying, but

fear wins. I step back and bow. “Thank you, your highness, for

helping me. Good night.”

“You should be more vigilant this late at night. Be careful.”

I look back over my shoulder, but he is gone. Walking briskly

back to my cottage, I feel I am still being watched.

While I try to sleep, my mind will not stop thinking through

all of tonight’s incidents and remembering the festival is

tomorrow, but I finally fall asleep.

 

 

 

Queen Bellona -Saskia-

 

 

 

I
look upon the paintings that hang in the library of all the

people that went before us. Their stories never interested me,

not even as a child. My father spent my childhood drilling

stories of the past into my head. My hate for him pushed me to

pray to God and ask him to take my father, but he never did.

His fist was his way to discipline me.

My mother would clean my wounds after my father’s rages. I

could still hear her voice. “Oh why, Bellona, do you upset your

father and force his hand upon you?” She would look at me

with no remorse, only disappointment.

I hated her, but as always, I bit my tongue. “Sorry, Mother.”

It was just a whisper, as it was too painful to speak with

broken ribs. For weeks after beatings, I was left to recover in

my sleeping chambers. There were no children my age so the

servants became my toys.

Shaking my head, I come back to here and now. I run my

fingers along the spines of the books until I come across the

one I want, the one my father used a long time ago. A shiver of

pleasure runs through my body as the memories pour in. Her

face frozen in a mask of pain. Her pleas for life. I was so young,

yet every moment was truly enjoyable, watching her very soul

torn apart. A smile plays on my lips just thinking about using

the book again. Only this time, I know exactly what to do. I am

not a frightened little girl anymore. I am the queen of Saskia.

Holding the book firmly to my chest I leave the library.

Taurus, my personal bodyguard, is waiting for me outside to

escort me back to my chambers. A small, fresh cut is on his

face, something I must inquire about later, but not right now. I

have too much to do. We walk in silence. The castle is empty, as

everyone is preparing for the festival.

Reaching my chambers, I turn to Taurus. “I do not want to

be disturbed.”

He inclines his head. “Most certainly, my lady.”

I close the door and cross the floor to my bookshelves that

are mounted against the stone wall. Sliding the bible out causes

a draft as the hidden door opens. I nearly laugh at the irony that

my father used a bible as the passageway to enter such a dark

place. I light the torch just inside the door and carry it down a

winding stone staircase
. I remember the day I discovered the

secret passageway. My father was raging, full of wine, turning

over tables in the library. I had never seen him so angry. He tore

the books from their shelves; pages fluttered around me. I was

truly terrified. I knew what these books meant to my father. He

crossed over to the mortal world, taking all kinds of books. He

was obsessed with their world.

He looked at me; the look of madness in his eyes terrified me.

Racing towards me, he picked me up and threw me on the white

marble floor, breaking my arm. A scream rose in my throat.

“Get up. You disgust me,” he said while moving towards me

again. He tripped over an overturned table and fell. I got up and

ran to my mother’s chambers. Tears poured down my face as I

cradled my arm.

When I entered, my mother was lounging on her four-poster

bed. She took one look at me and asked, “What
have you done

now?” At that very moment the realisation hit me. If he came

after me, he would finish what he started, and my mother would

not stop him this time. I ran and locked my mother’s door. She

got up off her bed.

“Bellona, what do you think you are doing? Unlock that

door at once.”

Placing the key in my dress pocket, I glared at her. “You

won’t hurt me anymore.” I could hear the venom in my own

voice.

Her face turned red with anger. “You spoilt little…”

She never got to finish her sentence. Anything I put my hand

on I flung at her. She screamed, startled. After emptying her

dressing table, I moved around the room and started throwing

books at her.

“Stop this at once—” She was cut off midsentence by a book

I aimed at her head, but I missed. I reached to get another book

and that’s when the bookshelf opened. “Close it, and close it

now, Bellona.” Her eyes darted to the door. “Your father will

kill you if you go down there.” She actually looked frightened.

She darted across the room, but before she could reach

me, I opened the door and closed it behind me. She was still

screaming her protests from her chambers. I raced blindly down

the stone steps until I ended up in a large, circular room
. The

room I stand in now. My father never knew I found his secret

room and my mother never told him.

I place the book on the stone stand that is in the centre of the

room. Opening the cover causes a breeze to flutter around the

room, stirring the candle flames, making them dance wildly.

I close my eyes and breathe in the musty smell of the book. A

low sob pulls me back. Bethany, the servant girl, is curled up

sobbing in her cage. I move towards her, making her move back

into the cage. Her ratty, dirty hair covers her face.

“Oh, Bethany. Shhh! It will be all over soon.” She looks at

me and starts sobbing again. She has a poor existence. I am

doing her a favour.

I prepare the altar by lighting candles and purifying the area

for my sacrifice. Just below the altar, I place a large piece of

black cloth for Bethany to lie on. Once Bethany is removed

from the cage, I wash her down and remove her soiled clothes.

She stands still, staring at the ground. The smell is becoming

less intense the more she is washed. I hum a tune my mother

used to sing to me at night time. It was one of her rare moments

of kindness towards me.

“Lorem, my lady.”

I hit Bethany across the face. “It is forbidden to use Latin.

You know this.” I inhale a deep breath to calm myself. Latin

stirs too many awful memories. It was the tongue of my parents.

When I came into power, I banished the language and enforced

English.

Bethany holds her face. “Sorry, my lady.”

I wrap her in a white silk robe and brush her wet hair from

her face. Taking her bony hand, I place her on the ground in

front of the altar. She keeps her eyes closed, but her body shakes

with silent sobs. Taking my pendant off the altar, I place it

around my neck. The purple stone starts to swirl.

Holding the black knife above Bethany, I start my incantation.

Almost instantly, the energy in the room starts to rise, causing

my hair to snap with electricity. I continue the incantation, saying

it louder and faster, until I can’t hear myself over the roars of

the demons in the room. The demons circle Bethany and me in

a large black fog. They move so fast a wind races through the

room. The only thing you can see through the black fog is their

red, greedy eyes. I thrash the knife into Bethany’s heart.

Lightning strikes the floor beside the altar, opening up a hole

in the
stone. This has never happened before, but I ignore it and continue. Bethany’s eyes shoot open and the roar that leaves her mouth is so filled with pain and horror it sets the demons off. Their dark forms cover Bethany. They slash at her flesh while sucking all the blood from her body. I place my pendant above her heart and the demons tear at her soul. Bethany’s face is white and drawn, but she is still alive, still screaming. The colour of her eyes starts to drain. She looks at me, horrified, trying to claw at her face, but the demons push her soul into my pendant. Bethany’s eyes are completely white, her face frozen in a mask of anguish. The next part still shocks me.

I can hear her bones crumbling. Her head twitches until all that

remains is ash and hair. I close the ritual by thanking the demons,

but they are already paid in blood and pain.

The demons still linger in a circle around me. They normally

leave after the sacrifice. Their unusual actions make me feel

tense. The ground beside the altar starts to tremble. I get up

off my knees. The hole that the lightning created is oozing with

black liquid. The demons never move, but they all keep their

eyes closed. I watch as a hand reaches out and grabs the side

of the hole. Then a man climbs out with such ease and grace.

When he stands, I can feel the power radiate off him. His gaze

falls upon me. I inhale a sharp breath at the sight of his eyes.

His lip curls into a smile. “I seem to have that reaction from most

people. Is it my eyes?” He laughs at his own joke. I have never seen anyone with red eyes besides the demons, but he is a man.

“Who are you?” I ask in a commanding voice.

He repeats my question back to me with a few of his own.

“Who am I? Where did I come from? And what do I want?

They are the answers you really want to know.” He raises an

eyebrow. “Am I not correct, Bellona?”

My patience is running out. I turn to leave, but the man is

right in front of me. “That’s no way to treat a guest. Usually

they would be offered a drink, maybe a seat.” I am beginning to

feel very unsettled with this man.

“You may sit, but I have nothing to offer you to drink.”

He smiles. His teeth have reshaped from straight to long, black,

pointed ones. “Oh, but you do.” He springs and grabs my head,

pulling it back as he sinks his teeth into my cheek. Pain shoots

through my body, but I am unable to scream or move, which makes it more terrifying. Images start to play out before my eyes, a land on fire, and the heat is at boiling point. I can taste the hot air in my mouth, making it hard to breathe. People with hollow eyes and burnt skin, their bodies tied in chains while carrying large rocks in their hands. The weight of the rocks causes their backs to hunch over. It is an image of torment and pure horror.

The man pulls his teeth from my face. I fall to the ground.

Blood still runs from my puncture wounds. I look up at him in

shock. He licks his lips and kneels down beside me.

“I am Lucian, king of the underworld. This is the first time

in twenty centuries I have stood on solid ground.” He moves

around the room, but it looks like there is an invisible barrier

that only allows him to go so far. He doesn’t look surprised by

this at all; it is as if he was expecting it. I am unable to speak.

The need to sleep makes my eyelids heavy. “Oh well, this will

have to do for now. The day will come when I shall call upon

you for one request that you must fulfil.” He grabs my chin. “I

want your oath, Bellona.”

I try to speak, but can’t. Lucian clicks his fingers and my mouth starts moving, my voice leaving, but it isn’t me. I grab

my throat to try and stop the words, but they just pour out. “I,

Queen Bellona, give you, Lucian, my word that I will grant you

one favour whenever you need it.”

He smiles and lets my face go. It rests on my chest. I don’t

have the strength to raise it. All I can see now is Lucian’s legs as

he walks away from me and returns to the hole beside the altar.

“We will meet again.” And at that, he leaves and the demons

follow him. When the last one goes through, the hole in the

Other books

Flashpoint by Suzanne Brockmann
Havoc (Storm MC #8) by Nina Levine
Knot Guilty by Betty Hechtman
A Perfect Madness by Frank H. Marsh
My Troubles With Time by Benson Grayson
The Loner: Inferno #12 by Johnstone, J.A.
Dead of Winter by Sam Millar
Sin City by Harold Robbins