The Fall of Refuge

By P S Mokha

Lily hates being trapped in the London Bridge Orphanage until she realises why. The orphanage protects the last fairies and elves. A few orphans have stumbled across this secret and the ancient routes that offer escape. One route leads to their mythical home of Ammasaya, where they must avoid deadly witches and wizards seeking to destroy the last fairies and elves.

Another leads to the human world, which is not much safer since a lethal new species with a taste for Lily’s kind has
infested the London Underground. Surrounded by menace, Lily and her friends are forced to stay within the sanctuary of the orphanage walls. Even here they’re not safe, as they begin to uncover their teachers’ hidden plots.

With their hands full, Lily and her friends fail to stop other students stumbling upon the reality of their past. The consequences of uncovering the truth results in the London Bridge Orphanage falling, altering the lives of every child who survives, forever.

Coming Soon
Book 3, The Wrath of Winter

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tangerine Publications Ltd
• Release date: Nov 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781501005367

P S Mokha

P S (Prabh) Mokha was born and raised in London. Like millions of others, he spent his early working life commuting into the city and reading books on trains. The books usually transported him further and to more interesting places than the trains.Prabh has travelled extensively and has lived in Spain, Wales, Sweden and the USA, finally settling in New Zealand with his wife and children.The Last Sanctuary is an epic fantasy that brings together his interest in ancient mythology, passion for scientific truth and love of humour into a modern story set in London.He is currently writing The Wrath of Winter, the third of the six books that will comprise The Last Sanctuary series. Book Two - The Fall of Refuge -OUT NOW

Book preview

It was almost pitch black. Elizabeth carried her baby slowly through the forest to ensure she didn’t trip over a root or walk into a branch.

Dark, ‘aint it? came her best friend’s voice from close by.

It’s night-time, came the flat reply from her friend’s husband. Darkness is traditional at night-time.

Elizabeth hoped they weren’t about to have an argument. She waited for another member of the escape party to break the tense silence. No one did. Elizabeth’s arm ached, so she shifted her sleeping baby to the other arm and said, What our friend means, is that we all expected a bright full moon. That’s why we chose to travel at this particular time.

It’s them tropical storm clouds wot stuffed us, said Elizabeth’s friend.

Hopefully, that will be the only thing that stuffs us, came the husband’s reply.

The lack of moon was good and bad, depending on whether your biggest fear were Spine Crawlers, or the wizard armies called Death Legions. A dark night made it hard for Death Legions to spot the travelling group. However, darkness was when Spine Crawlers hunted best.

Elizabeth hoped the Crawler’s fear of sunlight extended to moonlight, but since no one had ever survived a Crawler attack she couldn’t be sure. The group had a fighting chance against Death Legions, but Spine Crawlers were unstoppable.

Elizabeth longed to hold her husband’s hand for comfort, but he was trekking ahead with the three guides. She knew the guides’ names. In fact, she knew everyone’s names, but she wasn’t supposed to say them out loud to maintain secrecy. To help, she avoided even thinking about their names.

The group moved in silence. Only the sound of buzzing mosquitoes and chirping tree crickets filled the night air. Through a break in the clouds the silvery moon appeared and Elizabeth’s breathing relaxed. At last she could see the forest trail and avoid the roots and fallen branches that littered the path. Ahead, she could also see the wizard and goblin who had agreed to be their guides. The third guide was a witch carrying a baby. Why the witch brought her baby on the journey mystified Elizabeth, but it made her feel safe. A mother would never put her child in danger, so Elizabeth was confident their guides didn’t expect trouble.

There was a third baby in the escape party being carried by the husband of Elizabeth’s best friend. The two mothers had given birth during last spring’s thaw, and now they were closer than ever.

The fathers weren’t. Her friend’s husband was a hunter and her own was an entertainer.

They were all escaping the icy wastes of Glacialis, where newborn deaths were common. Every summer, parents of newborns tried escaping the ice caves filled with death and devoid of nature from which to draw magic.

The fair folk had existed there since fleeing the Blood Empress’s onslaught centuries earlier. King Heavensthor’s daughter, Odette, had led a small group in search of the Red Book of Destruction. The party had failed to find it and been split in two. Half were driven south, to the icy tip of Glacialis. The other half were driven to the northern tips of Ammasaya.

Elizabeth’s escape party hoped there were survivors in the northern tips. If they died trying to reach them, it was better than living without hope in the frozen tundra so remote that even the Antarctic tigers avoided it. Elizabeth’s baby snuffled and she held her tight. If Elizabeth and her husband died tonight, they believed Evagaya would save their daughter and take her to the safety of a hidden sanctuary.

A branch cracked close by and Elizabeth stopped. The whole group stood, staring wide-eyed at each other’s frightened faces in the moonlight.

The three guides rushed back through the trees, together with Elizabeth’s husband.

What is it? hissed one of the group.

Death Legions, breathed Elizabeth’s husband, rushing to her side. There was fear in his eyes.

Which way we gonna run? asked her friend.

It doesn’t matter, said one of the guides in a remarkably calm voice. It was the goblin. The Death Legions are everywhere. There can be no escape.

Elizabeth’s husband grabbed her arm and they ran. She didn’t know whether it was north, south, east or west, and she didn’t care. If the Death Legions caught them, they would be sent to the Blood Empress and tortured until they revealed the location of the ice caves that sheltered the last of their friends.

She tried to keep pace with her husband, except the baby was growing heavy and the bundle of lilac blankets held close to her chest partially blocked her view of the trail. If she tripped and fell she might crush her child.

Her husband slowed and said, Give her to me. Elizabeth passed the baby over. Given he was stronger and faster, the switch increased their chance of escape.

Footsteps followed from the trail behind. Elizabeth spun around and stopped, shielding her husband and baby from whatever gave chase.

Rooted to the spot, Elizabeth held her breath and waited for the dreaded Spine Crawler or Death Legionnaire to come into view. The crunch of leaves and snapping twigs came closer. Moments later her friend appeared, hurtling down the trail. Behind her raced her husband, clutching their baby.

The Death Legions knew we woz coming, spluttered her friend. They’re everywhere.

Elizabeth looked up through the branches above. Silhouetted against the moon were dozens of cloaked wizards on broomsticks. We have to keep moving, come on.

But which way, Lizzy? Her friend wasn’t supposed to use their real names. By doing so she revealed her true thoughts. She believed they would die. Jennifer believed they would die.

There was shouting in the distance. Elizabeth recognised the voice she had grown up with all her life. It was Tom. From what she could make out, he was begging for mercy. Either he had been caught, injured or was in the process of being killed by the Death Legions.

Elizabeth thought fast. She knew this moment might come. Listen, she whispered desperately to the small group. The most important thing is the children. When we die, we must be as far from our babies as possible to give Evagaya the best chance of collecting them.

Elizabeth grabbed Jennifer’s arm. We have to protect our men while they escape with the babies.

No wait, her husband… her Edward… had tears in his emerald eyes. Don’t talk like that. I’ll get us out of this.

I know, you will, my darling, lied Elizabeth. Edward was a useless hunter, a useless tracker and awful with a bow. If a big heart and beautiful poetry could save the family, they might have a chance.

With the men in front, the group set off along the trail. Elizabeth tried to block out the screams carrying through the night air. Despite her friends’ tormented cries, Elizabeth realised something offering hope. The screams sounded further and further away.

For the first time since the ambush, Elizabeth allowed herself to believe they might survive. Perhaps the goblin had been wrong and there was an escape route. The Death Legions might have failed to guard every forest trail and, by luck, their group were stumbling through one right now.

She watched her husband running in front of her. His shoulders cocooned their precious daughter from harm. It was going to be all right. They would live to be a family a little longer. They made good time through the forest and Elizabeth felt the tension leave her body. A cloud covered the moon and she allowed herself a slight grin. They would be harder to spot in the dark. The group had been running for over an hour, but she wasn’t tired. They dashed for hours across the Glacialis ice in autumn and spring to ensure they caught prey and returned to the ice caves before night froze them to death.

Right now, back in Glacialis, her friends and family would be sitting around the pathetic heat of the ancient self-flaming torch, wondering how the latest group to leave Glacialis was faring. Not all of their party had survived the journey, but so far Elizabeth and Jennifer’s family were doing well.

As the moon peeked between clouds, Elizabeth turned around to see if Jennifer was keeping up. Her friend smiled, then stopped running with a look of confusion. Elizabeth slowed and watched her friend’s expression. She was looking down at her legs, but there was only one. The other was gone. A look of astonishment crossed Jennifer’s face and she collapsed.

Passing cloud dampened the moon’s glow, and in the darkness Elizabeth was unable to see what was happening. Were disappearing legs a gruesome spell cast by a Death Legionnaire? Was Jennifer caught in an animal trap?

Then she saw red eyes blink from side-to-side and her heart stopped. It was a Spine Crawler. Jennifer was being eaten alive by a Spine Crawler. Crawlers ate their prey’s legs and arms first, ensuring their victim stayed alive as long as possible. The torso and head were last.

Jennifer dragged herself with her arms towards her friend, mouthing the words, RUN, RUN.

Jennifer was her best friend, she couldn’t just leave her.

Jennifer’s arm disappeared in a flurry of jaws and the dragging stopped. Her eyes pleaded with Elizabeth to go. Jennifer’s other arm disappeared into a chomping mouth. Moments later the pain in her eyes was replaced with a glassy stare. Jennifer was gone.

Elizabeth turned and ran, leaping over roots and around bushes, hoping to catch up with the men and children. She was numb; she had just watched her best friend eaten alive, yet felt nothing.

One of the guides must have betrayed the group to the Death Legions, but which one? Nicola Shackleton was travelling with her wizard husband, Silas Vollraath and their baby. Would they endanger that child by coordinating an ambush? Elizabeth doubted it. The betrayer must have been Grunjaw Ballybog, the goblin. He would soon have the death of a dozen fairies and elves on his conscience. The riches earned for the betrayal would undoubtedly ease his mind.

A crash ahead made her slow down. Two red dots appeared beneath the overhang of a tree. A Spine Crawler lurked by the path. Elizabeth was going to die. She knew that. She prayed the men had escaped with the babies. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable slow excruciating death. Tears ran down her cheeks, but they weren’t tears of fear. They were for her dear, beautiful daughter. Her lovely Lily.

Elizabeth opened her eyes. The blinking beast stood motionless by the path. It was large like an Antarctic tiger, except devoid of fur its body was defined and muscular. Its jaws dripped saliva and the rigid spines on its back stuck up like shark fins. Why was it just standing there? Elizabeth guessed it stayed beneath the overhanging bough to avoid the watery moonlight. That meant when the clouds cleared, the Crawler would seek cover and Elizabeth could escape.

A snake-like tongue flicked out. Why aren’t you running, my pretty? It spoke in a rasping voice.

I’m waiting for the clouds to clear so the moon can send you scuttling down the hole you crawled from. Elizabeth felt her confidence grow. With luck the moonlight will burn you to a cinder, before you reach home.

You are confused. We fear only sunlight. It stalked onto the path and bathed in the moon’s silvery glow. Now run, my pretty.

The plan to cross Ammasaya under a full moon had been ill-judged. She turned and ran, straight into the Crawler that had just devoured Jennifer.

It knocked her to the ground and she was winded by the impact. She didn’t want to watch herself eaten. Her last memories shouldn’t be fearful, they had to be positive. She blocked out the gnashing and snarling around her and remembered the first time she met Edward.

He had strayed too far from camp and she had been the one to find him. His mother, Amber Bernstein, was an incredible woman who treated Elizabeth like a daughter. Amber had recently been tracked by Grunjaw Ballybog using a special berry sold to Amber 37 years earlier. And now, Grunjaw had led them into a deadly trap.

Elizabeth felt a cold chill and looked down. In the brightening moonlight she watched a growing pool of crimson by her knee. Below the knee there was nothing except jaws and exposed bone.

Her bone.

Elizabeth looked away. How could Grunjaw Ballybog betray them? How could he sacrifice babies for money and power? How could the love of power be more important than the power of love?

Her body was numb, but she shivered uncontrollably due to blood loss. Then she noticed something on the ground. It was a ripped corner of a lilac blanket. The blanket her daughter was wrapped in. Using her arms she dragged herself towards it, needing to touch it and connect with her baby Lily for the last time. She grabbed a clump of grass and pulled herself closer. One more tug and the cloth would be in reach. Elizabeth needed it by her cheek, so her child’s scent would be her last sensation before death.

There was a thrashing of jaws and her arm was gone below the elbow. She could no longer drag herself. She stared at the lilac rag, just out of reach. Her heart cried out and she shivered, suddenly feeling everything. Every nerve severed, every tendon torn, every muscle ripped and every bone crushed. But the agony of not reaching Lily’s ripped blanket was the hardest pain to bear.

Elizabeth’s body and mind stopped working as the Spine Crawlers finished their meal of fairy meat.

Chapter 1 – The London Bridge Orphanage

It was Sunday morning, the last day of the Easter holidays. Lily awoke and stared at the round ceiling of her bedroom in the London Bridge Orphanage.

Unlike most orphanages, the London Bridge Orphanage was also a school. A school that also represented the last sanctuary for a race hunted to near extinction; the race of fairies and elves.

Lily sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. She was pleased not to have spent the night dreaming of Katrina’s death. Instead she’d had an unpleasant nightmare about Katrina’s child joining their orphanage. Her child had one purpose; to reveal the secret location of their sanctuary to the murderous witches and wizards.

Lily didn’t want to think about that now. Worrying about a new student and killer witches already took up her sleeping time. She didn’t want it filling her awake time.

With a yawn, she rolled out of bed and walked across her dark circular bedroom. At the curved window she stuck her head behind the thick black curtain. Dozens of metres below, early morning tourists bustled along the London streets. In front of her, the London Eye rotated at a snail’s pace, its glass pods glinting in the morning rays. Sightseers within pointed across the River Thames to Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. The closest group were avid photographers, snapping away at the sights.

Lily waved. No one waved back. Logical, given no one from the outside could see the orphanage-school… which was actually quite illogical.

Lily focused on her own watery reflection in the window. Her apricot hair was a wavy mess and her emerald eyes looked like Grandpa’s – thoughtful; as though they had seen a lifetime. Odd, since Lily was still a few months from her thirteenth birthday.

She pulled her head back through the curtain, allowing sunlight to lay a narrow chain of gold along the bedroom floor. The chain was bright enough for Lily to see her roommates’ beds were empty. The rug over the trapdoor was creased, so they were down in the secret Hidden Room.

With a stretch, Lily headed to the rug, kicked it back then opened the trapdoor before climbing down the iron staircase and into the dusty room below. The place was still a mess with upturned tables, strewn clothes, scattered books and smashed potion bottles littering the floor. At the far end of the round room stood Olivia. Oblivious to the mess around her, she burst into a jolly song,

"Row, row, row your boat

Gently through the water

If you see an evil witch

Take her to the slaughter... hoi!"

She merrily twirled a ship’s wheel. It had been hiding behind a secret panel revealed by Katrina during her search for the Turquoise Book of Creation.

While singing, Olivia donned a hat of ruby felt cocked on the side of her head. The ruby fez contrasted with her pale porcelain skin, highlighting her dark eyes, her straight nose and perfect cheek bones. Her jet black hair hung straight down her back, finishing just above her bottom, which had become more rounded over the last few months as she approached her thirteenth year.

Lily’s other roommate, Rose, was kneeling by a fallen copper globe of Ammasaya the size of a large beach-ball. The copper hue was a few shades lighter than Rose’s chestnut curls and the globe’s warm reflection gave Rose’s tanned skin a bronze-like glow. She noticed Lily and asked, Can you give me a hand rolling this globe back into the cupboard?

Sure. Lily skirted around an upturned table and stood beside Rose, ready to push.

After three, said Rose. One... two...

Olivia’s loud singing interrupted the girls.

"Hi diddle-de-dee, a sailor’s life for me.

Hi diddle-de-doo, you did a smelly… Hang on, look at this." Olivia stopped twirling the wheel.

Rose grimaced. Have you found something that stops you singing and makes you tidy up?

No... seriously, look at this, insisted Olivia. Lights are flashing on my wheel of steel.

Lily craned her neck to see three swirly symbols flashing a bright indigo on the wheel’s spokes. Lily and Rose left the globe and went over to inspect the flashing symbols.

Is it Arabic or Chinese or something? Two languages Lily knew didn’t use the same lettering as English.

Neither, said Rose, who had probably studied both. Her Aunt had ensured Rose received the best education money could buy before joining the orphanage.

Olivia tapped the wheel in thought. There are seven spokes, each with a set of symbols, but only three sets are flashing. I wonder what happens if all seven flash?

Rose traced a finger over one of the swirls. Given the lights flashed when you turned the wheel, maybe they’re like the combination code of a safe. If you turn the wheel so-many times to the right and so-many to the left, a symbol lights up. Once all seven are lit, perhaps something amazing happens.

Like what? asked Olivia.

Like you stop messing around and help us tidy up.

Olivia rolled her eyes. Messing around indeed. It’s called code breaking and I work best when not disturbed.

The code breaking may have to wait. You’re supposed to be working for Grunjaw Ballybog today. Rose arched her back, making her vertebrae click.

Lily had almost forgotten about Olivia’s commitment to work for Grunjaw, the goblin. Olivia had been caught stealing a story-seed from Grunjaw’s laboratory. She also owed him a silver amulet lost in a bet. For pay-back, she had to work for Grunjaw every Sunday making potions until the debt was repaid.

Olivia removed her felt hat and hung it on the ship’s wheel. I guess cleaning will have to wait. I don’t want to be late for work – Grunjaw might think I’m lazy.

Perish the thought, said Rose.

Olivia wagged a finger. And perish I shall, unless we get breakfast. She half-turned, then paused. Hey look, the flashing lights are going out. The symbols on the spokes faded until they became barely visible grey smears. And it’s time for us to go out, too.

The girls headed up the iron staircase that spiralled into their bedroom. Lily ensured the trapdoor was closed behind them and covered with the rug before getting ready for the day.

Olivia fully opened the curtains and pointed to a pod of the London Eye directly opposite the girls’ bedroom window. A very fat man wore a t-shirt with Texans Love Guns written on it. He stuffed the last of a hot dog into his mouth before producing a donut from a back pack. He reminds me of Varkarus Vollraath. Except I don’t think tubby over there wants the human race extinct like Varkarus. There’d be no one to cook for him.

Remembering her dream, Lily added, I hope Varkarus and Katrina’s child feels the same way as the Texan about preserving our race.

Olivia waved a dismissive hand. Don’t worry about Katrina’s kid joining our school. The kid’s dad is Varkarus Vollraath; a wizard very much alive and kicking. I don’t think the kid qualifies to join our exclusive club for orphaned fairies and elves.

I hope you’re right. Rose began getting dressed. Except, if our orphanage is exclusively for fairies and elves, why is our class teacher a witch?

Their class teacher, the gentle Miss Shackleton, was hiding a sinister past that included being married to Silas Vollraath, the brother of Varkarus Vollraath.

Simple. Olivia opened their bedroom door. We’re a dying race, so obviously there’s a shortage of fairy teachers.

Fair point. Rose followed Olivia out the door.

The girls descended the long spiralling staircase of their tower and into a wide corridor with expansive windows. Hanging between each window were floor-to-ceiling paintings of ocean coves, towering mountains and lush forests.

Near the end of the corridor, Rose asked, I wonder where Miss Shackleton is? I haven’t seen her all week.

Perhaps the teachers leave the orphanage during the Easter holidays, suggested Lily. You know, to take a break from school.

Or maybe Shackleton is off recruiting a new cleaner, said Olivia, fingering for any dust that might have settled on the gilded frame of a painting.

Why don’t you apply for the job? suggested Rose. You could do with the practice.

Lily grinned, Also you’d get a wage, meaning you could pay Grunjaw for the stolen story-seed.

Olivia shook her head. Nah, I need all my free time for homework. You know how I love to study. Besides, I don’t want to work for Headmistress Kleek, she’s a stinking witch.

You don’t mind being in Shackleton’s class, though, pointed out Lily.

Yes, but Shackleton’s a lovely witch, replied Olivia. And she doesn’t stink.

Lily pushed open the double wooden doors at the end of the corridor and they entered the Crystal Foyer. Sunlight streamed through the crystal-domed ceiling and danced on the flecks of quartz on the sandstone floor. Children sat chatting by pools of water that shimmered rippling reflections on the curved walls. The girls passed a group of senior students moaning about how they hadn’t started the holiday homework that was due tomorrow.

Olivia whispered, If they knew our school was a sanctuary for a dying race, homework would be the least of their worries.

Is that why you never do any homework? asked Rose.

Olivia clutched her heart in pain. Ouch! That hurts.

Beneath the centre of the crystal dome, the girls climbed the round staircase leading to a platform partway up. The platform was surrounded by more staircases that split into dozens of mini-stairways which snaked chaotically around the foyer. They took the set leading to the Painted Hall. Just before reaching the top, Lily glanced at the shrinking students below, wondering if handsome Jacques was on his way to breakfast.

Who are you looking for? asked Rose, who was ridiculously perceptive.

No one, lied Lily. I just like the view from up here.

The girls entered a corridor lined with rows of shining armour and weapons, before pushing open double doors and entering the Painted Hall, which was essentially a canteen that curiously resembled a forest clearing. A branch sprinkled with pink blossom caught Lily’s eye. The blossom hadn’t been there yesterday and Lily guessed it had been freshly painted to match the spring season.

A few students were scattered around the table-trunks, busily tucking into breakfast. Lily noticed the shaven-headed Sandy sitting at the edge of the clearing. She wasn’t alone. With her sat Headmistress Kleek; a short, squat woman with chunky appendages and a chest like a barrel. She looked more like the missing link between humans and apes than the leader of an orphanage.

Lily stopped to watch their interaction. Sandy was nodding to whatever Kleek’s fat chops were saying while the headmistress patted Sandy appreciatively on the back. Kleek then stood, fished a set of keys from her pocket and stomped away in her black, broad-laced leather boots to the outcrop at the head of the clearing. She pushed open two doors resembling painted tree trunks and disappeared.

I wonder what that was about? asked Rose.

Let’s ask Sandy, said Olivia. If she doesn’t tell us, we’ll threaten to shave her head, again.

Technically we didn’t shave her head first time, it was our changeling doubles. Rose spoke in a lowered tone.

The shaved words in Sandy’s head were starting to fade now that her hair was growing back, however confirmation that Sandy’s anger was very much alive came from a toxic look through thick glasses that magnified venom in her eyes.

Righty-ho. Olivia raised her eyebrows. Sandy still hates you two then.

Rose shook her head with a smile. We can’t all be popular like you.

Lily grabbed a few bits of toast, before following her friends to an empty wooden table where Olivia tucked heartily into her omelette. The sight triggered a thought about Olivia’s recent vow to stop eating meat after making friends with a talking pig.

Are vegetarian’s supposed to eat eggs? asked Lily.

Of course we can eat eggs. Vegetarian’s can’t eat meat.

Eggs are unborn chickens, said Lily. And chicken is meat.

Then eggs have yet to become meat, said Olivia, spooning another mouthful. I’m eating them just in time.

Lily was about to retort when she caught sight of Flaim and Jacques. She automatically straightened her posture. When the blonde-haired, Jacques sat beside her, Lily felt her freckled ears grow hot.

Morning ladies. Jacques’ boyish grin was so full of energy that Lily’s attention was drawn to his perfect white teeth and red lips. She forced herself to lower her gaze away from his face and onto the silver chain that glowed through his open-neck shirt. A ring-shaped mole on his collarbone caught her eye; she hadn’t noticed it before.

In case anyone saw her staring, Lily shifted her focus to Sandy. It was hard to believe they were sister and brother; Jacques was funny, handsome and carefree, while Sandy was sour, plain and manipulative.

The mop-haired Flaim spoke through a mouthful of kipper. Have you heard? The music teacher is coming back in September. Sandy thinks it’s because the staff worked out that the real scorpion teacher was Katrina the cleaner.

Lily tried to act nonchalant. If the staff knew Katrina was the scorpion, did they also know the girls’ involvement in Katrina’s death?

Rose twisted in her seat to look over at Sandy, who quickly averted her gaze. Something was afoot. Rose stared at the boys with a hard edge to her usually mellow eyes. Sandy put you up to this, didn’t she? She thinks we know something about Katrina and the scorpion, but rather than ask herself, she’s getting you to do it.

She didn’t ask us to do anything, said Jacques defensively. She merely mentioned that you three knew Katrina was the real scorpion, and she wondered what other secrets you were keeping.

Flaim nodded knowingly. It wouldn’t surprise me if Sandy told us that scorpion stuff, knowing full-well we’d mention it to the girls. Sandy is pretty devious; no offence, Jacques.

Jacques spread his hands in a calming gesture. None taken. Although it does beg the question; why does Sandy think you girls know about Katrina being a scorpion?

Who knows, shrugged Olivia, before swiftly changing the subject. Do you know if vegetarians are allowed to eat eggs?

No idea, replied Jacques. That girl over there is a vegetarian, so she might know. Do you want me to introduce you, or have you met herbivore?

Lily stopped herself from laughing out loud.

I know about this veggie stuff, volunteered Flaim. Eggs are fine for vegetarians, because they come from a tree. A poultry.

I thought eggs came from a plant, corrected Jacques. An egg-plant.

Olivia tapped her glass with a spoon, as though calling everyone’s attention to a wedding speech. People, people, time to stop.

Sorry. We get over egg-cited sometimes. Flaim waved his kipper.

We’re just too hen-thusiastic, agreed Jacques with a smile so warm and open he must honestly believe his own wittiness.

The girls endured more cheesy word-play for the sake of keeping the conversation away from giant scorpions. Such dangers were the tip of an iceberg of secrets no other student knew about; except perhaps Sandy.

Whether she knew the true extent of the secrets was uncertain. The biggest secret related to the girls. Their destinies were bound by the ancient Prophecy of 3 – one to live, one to die and one to give. As yet, the girls didn’t know which part of the prophecy applied to whom. What they did know, was that the one to die would either die, or become the most evil thing that ever lived; something no one wanted as their divine future, yet none wanted for their friends either.

Past events strongly suggested Rose was the one to die, given she had already been killed, before being resuscitated by Olivia. The girls learnt that if the one to die survived, she would become the one to kill, and grow into the most evil ruler imaginable. Rose was raised by her fabulously rich Aunt Jacqueline; a beautiful woman with a heart of ice and a steely determination to acquire as much power as humanly (and inhumanly) possible. Would Rose also grow to love power? Only time would tell.

At present, Rose had a less ambitious life plan. She wanted to marry a loving man and lead a simple life devoted to her children. Her sole aim was to put right the wrongs experienced in her own childhood that was rich with so much, except the most important ingredient. Love.

Are you alright? Jacques interrupted Lily’s reflections. You’ve been staring into the distance for ages.

Does distance have an inside to stare into? asked Flaim. If so, then distance must have a top, bottom and sides too.

That’s fascinating, said Olivia. You really must tell me more about it someti... zzzzz. She pretended to fall asleep.

Lily popped the last piece of toast into her mouth. I’m fine. Just daydreaming.

We should get going, said Rose.

What are you up to today? asked Flaim.

Erm… homework, lied Olivia, grabbing her tray and standing up. What about you guys?

Not much, shrugged Flaim. Just hanging out. Pete in our tower reckons he can get through the floorboards and into the bedroom below. Might be worth seeing if the girls below appreciate his ingenuity.

The girls said their goodbyes and dropped off their trays. Lily longed to tell Jacques they were part of a dying race. Sharing secrets would bring them closer, yet it would also place Jacques in danger. Merely knowing about his race could get his memory wiped, or force his exile to Cimmeria – both outcomes designed to protect the secret location of their school.

Chapter 2 – The Avalon Citadel

It was time to go to Grunjaw’s. The girls headed outside and waded through the spring grass of Butterfly Field that swayed in a gentle breeze. They entered the cool shade of the trees and continued through to Dockleaf Glade where the scent of blossom filled the air.

I wonder what happened to Hinky Punk? asked Olivia.

Lily had forgotten about the grumpy will o’ the wisp they accidently caught in a jar when first performing their dance.

Perhaps he’s moved on, said Rose, performing a pirouette. Hopefully he’s happier in his new home; wherever that may be.

Soft glowing fireflies appeared, one after the other, and moments later, the trees swirled in a whirl of green leaves and white blossom. When it stopped, Lily stood under mighty trequoia trees beneath the blue sky of Ammasaya. Her true home.

Through the dangling branches, Lily spied dozens of towers spread around the edge of the Avalon Citadel. 42 towers to be exact. At their centre was the vast oval meadow where the busy market, or the bazaar as it was known, was full of traders and shoppers.

They stepped onto the dewy grass, and the alluring smell of exotic delicacies had Lily wishing for a pocketful of sheckles (the local currency) to sample foods or purchase colourful dresses and ornamental trinkets.

As they headed across the meadow, Olivia surveyed the bazaar. Before starting work at Grunjaw’s, we should visit Arian’s stall. Just to see how she’s doing; what with Freya being away and all that.

There were three possible reasons for Olivia’s suggestion. She might be genuinely concerned about Arian, given her daughter recently ran away to live with her absent father. Or, Olivia might be delaying going to Grunjaw’s due to her fear of his dog. However, the most likely reason for Olivia suggesting a visit to Arian’s stall was because she sold the most delicious of all desserts; Avalonian chocolate cake.

They entered the bazaar where music played over the sound of silver-tongued dwarfs bartering with punters. Lily’s eyes feasted on robes of shiny silk and hats decorated with delicate feathers. Further on, golden jewellery ornamented with gems twinkled so brightly, they competed with the sunlight dancing on the quartz of the surrounding sandstone towers. With the pushing and shoving crowd, it was all an exciting assault on Lily’s senses.

A pixie-man used a curved dagger to carve blocks of wood into strange looking creatures. Next to him, a pixie-lady painted the carvings with a brush and palette displaying an array of colours so bright they almost leapt from the tray. She reached into a small cage to place a pigeon-sized carving that resembled a cross between a lion and an eagle.

It’s a griffin, said Rose, mesmerised by the quality of the carving.

When the pixie-lady closed the cage door, the griffin sprang to life; stretching it’s body and spreading its wings.

There must be pixie dust on the cage floor, said Rose.

I wonder if that pixie dust can be used to bring other stuff to life? asked Olivia.

I don’t think the griffin’s alive, said Rose. Even though it moves, I doubt it has a heart, lungs or a brain.

But it has feelings, said Olivia. "Why else would it feel the need to stretch."

It was a good point. Lily was about to say so, when a fanfare of trumpets sounded in the distance.

I hope those trumpets aren’t signalling another unicorn rodeo, said Olivia, waving away a dwarf holding a gleaming brooch. I haven’t brought anything to bet with.

Lily suppressed a smile. She didn’t want to encourage Olivia’s dodgy humour.

They approached Arian’s stall displaying cakes and dangling meats. Other than the three changelings, Arian was the only person currently at the Citadel who knew the girls’ true identities. She was busy serving a customer; the local busybody, Mrs Bottomly. Given the way Arian’s head nodded with repeated politeness, she was doing more listening than serving.

I blame the father, you know, complained Mrs Bottomly with pursed lips. Mothers raise children with common sense. Fathers raise them to be selfish… like themselves. Mrs Bottomly pulled her cardigan tight around her ample chest and warbled on until her words were drowned by another trumpet fanfare that sounded closer.

Lily stood next to Mrs Bottomly, hoping she would think a queue was forming and leave. Arian snuck a smile at Lily, then returned her attention to Bottomly. From Arian’s strained expression it was obvious she didn’t want to talk about why her daughter had run away to live with Arian’s estranged ex-husband.

Either Bottomly didn’t notice or didn’t care, because she droned on. If your daughter doesn’t come back, you’re better off without her. If you ask me… wait a minute; where have all your cakes gone?

Arian seized on the topic change. Oh, that’s a very interesting question. You see, that woman over there? She just bought the lot. Arian pointed across the bustling path. Lily followed the direction of the pixie’s finger to a short figure wearing a dark-hooded cloak.

Lily caught her breath. She had only seen witches or wizards wear dark cloaks.

I didn’t know there were witches or wizards at the Citadel? whispered Olivia.

Look at her boots, breathed Rose.

Lily’s view was partially blocked by Bottomly’s vast behind, so Lily leaned backwards for a better view.

The cloaked figure wore boots that seemed familiar; black and broad-laced with a heavy heel.

Lily froze, trying to makes sense of what she saw.

What on earth... Olivia whispered slowly, ... is Ms Kleek... doing at the Avalon Citadel?

Chapter 3 – Unexpected Visitors

Rose grabbed the dumbstruck girls by their sleeves and dragged them off the main path until they stood behind Arian’s stall.

Arian gave them a beaming smile, undoubtedly welcoming the distraction from Bottomly’s parenting lecture. Hello girls, what a lovely surprise.

Lily barely heard Arian. Her brain was too busy getting to grips with the sight of Kleek stuffing Avalonian chocolate cake down her throat as though she might die without its immediate consumption.

Rose sidled next to Arian and asked in a lowered voice. Does that woman come here often? she pointed to Kleek.

Erm, not that I recall, replied Arian. Why?

Excuse me, interrupted a shrill Mrs Bottomly. I’ll take two pheasants, please... if that isn’t too much to ask from a seller of pheasants. She stared down her nose at Rose. A paying customer such as myself shouldn’t have to battle for attention from three girls who might remind Arian of a certain daughter she’s trying to forget. Something about the girls caught her eye and she tilted her head. Your ears... what are you? Humans?

The girls acted as though they hadn’t heard the question, shuffling awkwardly and staring around randomly while Arian busied herself collecting the pheasants.

Well, I certainly wouldn’t admit to being a human either! shrieked Bottomly so loud that heads turned.

Had Kleek heard? Lily’s eyes shot towards her headmistress. Her attention was fixed on a stall selling jellied treats shrouded in a mist of powdered sugar. They resembled miniature mountains covered in cloud. And Kleek wasn’t inspecting the jellied treats alone. Another figure in a hooded cloak stood with her. Judging by the elegant way her companion moved, her identity was clear. It was their class teacher, Miss Shackleton.

What’s Shackleton doing here? hissed Olivia.

We need to find out. Rose pulled the girls into a huddle. Olivia, you have to go to Grunjaw’s without us. Lily and I will follow Kleek and Shackleton to find out what they’re up to. We’ll meet back at school later.

Wait a minute, girls. Arian handed Mrs Bottomly her change and waited for her to waddle off before turning back to the girls. You have to come to my cottage. I have something important to tell you.

Rose nodded. Alright, we’ll meet at Arian’s later. Rose was about to follow their teachers, when Olivia placed a hand on her arm.

Wait. If you both follow our teachers, I’ll have to face Grunjaw and his dog by myself.

They were wasting time. Kleek had purchased a bag of sugared treats and was heading into the crowd along with Shackleton laden with boxes that presumably contained Kleek’s cakes.

Alright, Olivia, I’ll go with you, reassured Rose before turning to Lily. Lily, you’ll have to follow Kleek and Shackleton by yourself.

What! exclaimed Lily. But, I…

Quick, warned Olivia. They’re getting away. With a mischievous grin, she shoved Lily in the direction of her teachers.

Stumbling forward, Lily caught brief sight of her teachers before they disappeared into the crowd. There was no time to argue. She hurried around the stall and onto the main path. It was difficult to see through the pixies and goblins that towered over her. Fortunately, she was small enough to slink between the mass of bodies. After a few seconds of dashing and dodging, she caught sight of a distant cloak.

The trumpet fanfare blared so close Lily jumped as a dozen figures dressed like jesters, blowing long slender horns, appeared through the horde. With them was a tall, broad-chested goblin in a blue jacket with shiny gold buttons. He cleared his throat then bellowed a message read from a scroll.

HEAR YE, HEAR YE. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN OVER A HUNDRED SUMMERS, AN EVENT OF INTERNATIONAL IMPORTANCE WILL BE HELD AT THIS CITADEL OF AVALON.

Some folk stopped to listen, others continued about their business, fingering items on nearby stalls. Lily squeezed around the jesters and hurried along the path until she saw her teachers’ figures in the distance. The stalls ahead were further apart and less busy, meaning Lily had a clearer view of the short, fat Kleek and tall, graceful Shackleton.

When Lily was around fifteen metres away, she slowed to consider her options. She could either follow her teachers from a safe distance and hope to catch sight of something that gave a clue to the reason for their presence. Or, she could get close and eavesdrop for a few seconds to actually hear the reason for their presence. Getting close was the more dangerous option, but it was also more likely to provide answers. And given Shackleton was a wanted fugitive in Ammasaya, it was unlikely her time would be spent on irrelevant chats about the weather or the price of tomatoes. They would be discussing the reason for their dangerous visit.

Lily steeled herself and quickened her pace to a light-footed jog. When the cloaked figures abruptly stopped, Lily half-skidded to a halt and spun around, pretending to show interest in a battered tin can with SPAM written on the side.

What the… She caught sight of the other items on the stall. There was a pistol with a long ivory handle, a cracked pocket watch attached to a gold chain, and a chipped teapot with a faded picture of Queen Victoria on the side.

I see you have an interest in human goods, said a bearded dwarf with narrow eyes and lips so thin they were barely visible.

Erm… not really, I’m just looking, blustered Lily, confused by the sight of human items on the stall. She forced herself to refocus on her immediate task and glanced sideways at the stationary Kleek and Shackleton a short distance away. They were discussing something in hushed tones. Lily would never get close enough to hear... unless.

That’s it, she said out loud.

Have you seen something you like? asked the dwarf.

Sort of. This t-shirt is from England. Lily tugged at the fabric to show it off. It’s in the human world.

With guarded interest, the dwarf’s slitty eyes inspected her t-shirt showing an Egyptian mummy and the words British Museum. So you have something to sell, rather than buy?

Swap actually. I’d like to swap this t-shirt for your cloak. Lily pointed at the grey cloak hanging from a nail hammered into the side of the stall.

The dwarf looked Lily up and down. Throw in your sandals and we have a deal.

Only if you throw in those clogs, blurted Lily, pointing to a pair on the stall without thinking.

Deal, grinned the dwarf.

The dwarf handed her the rough woollen cloak, which Lily slipped on. Awkwardly, she removed her t-shirt beneath to preserve her modesty before swapping footwear. Lily was about to waddle off in the clogs, when the dwarf asked. Tell me. Where did you get these fine threads? They look new. He rubbed the t-shirt between thumb and forefinger.

My Grandma weaves. The lie came more quickly and comfortably than she would like to admit.

The dwarf eyed her with suspicion. Your Grandma’s loom weaves better than any I know. These threads are woven tight and the cotton is fine.

Grandma’s fine too, thanks, replied Lily. Fully aware that her comment made no sense, she swiftly shuffled off in her clogs to avoid more questions.

She resisted the temptation to look around and check if the dwarf followed. The more she thought about the evidence from London being left at the bazaar, the more she realised her mistake. The t-shirt was proof of a recent visit to the human world through thresholds that were supposed to be destroyed by the Blood Empress. That meant the t-shirt was like a red flag summoning the Empress’s attention upon Lily that would result in more than a detention or a slapped wrist.

It was too late now. Lily pulled her hood over her head, as though being concealed made her difficult to find, like a child hiding under the sheets to avoid the source of her nightmares. She shuffled to the stall next to where her teachers stood. Their attention was fixed on the cover of a newspaper entitled The Citadel Chronicle.

The rumours were right, breathed Miss Shackleton.

Kleek growled under her breath. That’s the last thing we need. She folded the newspaper under her arm, then threw a coin to the goblin stallholder. As the coin spun an arc through the air, the goblin stallholder grabbed at the coin, fumbling it between his green fingers like a hot potato. It fell to the ground, and while the goblin boy bent to retrieve it, Kleek swiped a second newspaper. With a sly sneer, she folded it inside the first newspaper. This’ll get the green twerp into trouble.

Miss Shackleton frowned her disapproval, but said nothing as she followed the headmistress away from the stall.

Lily’s heart raced. What news did the paper reveal that made a risky journey to Ammasaya so important? All Lily needed was a copy of the paper and