Alina

By T.E. Mark

Alina is lost in a land of irritable furniture, an angry King and sarcastic trees. Where chocolate winged doves applaud her courage and the palace doors have commanded her to leave.
With an enchanted book and her closest friends, she is set to the task of restoring the peace to a once peaceful land.
This is a rich tale of friendship, adventure and love and the ultimate quest of a young girl to find herself and the peace, which according to her dearest friend, has an annoying habit of getting lost from time to time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.E. Mark
• Release date: May 22, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370979431

T.E. Mark

T. E. Mark is an Anglo-American Science Writer, Screenwriter and Editor. He has studied Architecture, Music and Literature in the UK and in the US and has been penning stories since childhood. His first novel, Fractured Horizons, set in the wonderful of Bath England, was written at the age of 12.Mark has written novels for young and adult readers and a selection of science articles for national and international magazines. He also writes and edits academic papers on a variety of subjects for universities, governmental and non-governmental organisations.Follow T. E. Mark at:temarkauthor.wordpress.commthomasmark.wordpress.comtemarkurbanscratch.wordpress.comContact T. E. Mark at: [e-mail].

Book preview

(I)

The Palace of Darkness

‘Shh… be quiet! If we’re quiet, they can’t see us.’

‘But I didn’t say anything.’

‘But you felt it, and your fear was as loud as last year’s harvest festival.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘They’re coming. Try to concentrate on a colour, or architecture, or something unusual, but not in a way that causes you to think about it very much. And for goodness’ sake, don’t be angry, afraid or happy. I’ll explain when they’ve gone. They shan’t stay long.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘Because of the colours, of course. The pigments in the paintings will swallow them if they dawdle. It’s complicated. Boy, that must have been some fall you took out there.’

‘But…’ The fragile girl squinted her disquiet. ‘I don’t remember falling. I can’t say I remember much of anything,’

Poppea began pulling at her shimmering curls looking for wounds. Though unable to see her curious saviour, (it’s rather complicated, but you’ll catch on once the story gets going), Alina could feel her searching and clawing at her scalp.

‘Nope,’ she said after a careful examination. ‘At least your hair’s okay. Good thing, too.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, I’m no expert, mind you, but have you ever met a bald girl with even common sense?’

‘Hmm, I’ll have to think about that one.’

They held each other tight and stood as close together as they could.

As Alina, proper and graceful in the ways one would expect of a young lady, forced her favourite colours into her mind, a pillar of teal and blue erupted beside them. The pedestal base and leafy, Corinthian capital were smooth, cream coloured, like unblemished ivory and trimmed in the finest gold. The entire column stretched from the floor to the ceiling 30 feet above, where it held an elaborate architrave, frieze and cornice. Across the architrave were raised letters and ornate pictograms.

‘Oh, my!’ Poppea gazed in amazement. She ran her speckled hands up and down the column’s well-proportioned flutes. She caught sight of the petite girl who started glowing from her embarrassment. ‘Is this a common thing with you?’

‘I hope not,’ she said in the direction of the voice. ‘Maybe it’s just a mistake. Maybe I should…’

‘….Shh.’ she hissed. ‘They’re here.’

They began whispering.

‘How can you tell? I don’t see anyone. In fact…’ She held a hand to her face. ‘...I can’t even see myself.’

‘Just wait! You’ll catch on. Just don’t…’

‘….I know, I know. Don’t talk and don’t feel anything. I can’t say I like it here.’

‘Shh!’

‘And I can’t say I appreciate being shushed constantly either.’

Alina fought the urge to feel fear, sadness, hope, despair, longing or desire. The soft girl with hair the colour of sweetened honey and eyes like polished sapphires clung to her companion with proper politeness as they rested against the iconic pillar that had simply sprouted as she pictured it.

A vile, creaking sound belied the opening of a proud, oak door, and a malicious anger filled the room like a dust cloud or swarm of angry bees.

As the intruders entered, Alina struggled with masking her emotions while trying to see the source of these menacing creatures.

‘I still can’t see anyone.’ Her voice was but a whisper.

‘Oh, they’re here all right,’ said Poppea quietly, still intrigued by the column. ‘Their feelings are crude and undignified. Try seeing them without your eyes and hearing them without your ears. You must remember something.’

‘You’re not making any sense. I don’t fancy I’ll listen to your advice any longer. Perhaps the fighting has stopped in the forum and I can find my way back to where I belong.’

Hmm, she thought. Now there’s an issue worth spending some time with.

‘Okay girlies, you can come out now. We don’t mean you no harm.’

The boy’s voice was raspy, unseemly and syrupy with a tarnished attempt at charm. His eyes were deep, desolate grey. His colours were malicious and ill-mannered, and his skin was charred like condensed smoke or burnt timbers.

The frightened girl, still trying desperately to remember who she was and how she’d gotten herself into this strange world continued holding her eyes tightly sealed.

With cupped hands, she attempted muffling her ears. In spite of her curiosity, she felt certain the sight or sound of these evil boys would cause her to feel fear, despair, or detestable loathing, any of which, according to her unseen friend, would render them visible and vulnerable to capture.

Without a full understanding of the matter, and naturally hesitant to ask for an explanation, she could still hear the vile intruders no matter how hard she pressed her hands to her ears.

‘You ain’t sure Goble,’ said one of the boys in an unsophisticated, dark voice. ‘It could be jus’ an echo from a’fore.’

‘They’re here, I tell yeh.’ The older boy was revolting and grumbly. ‘And one of em’s jus’ about to crack. We’ll fin’ em aventually. Then old Clovis’ll be righ’ gen’rous. You mark me.’

‘I say we get back now. The Guvnor’ll be sorely wrought if we’re gone more than an hour.’

‘OK, dallies, we’ll be leavin now, but you can bet your dainty white kneecaps we’ll be comin back for yeh.’

Dainty white, knee… huh? Thought Alina. If this dream gets any stranger, I’m going to need therapy when I wake up.

As the contemptible intruders withdrew, and the door swung wide, Alina embraced a wave of relief.

‘Wait!’ said Goble turning.

‘What?’

‘I saw somethin’; by that big, round thing.’

‘What? What did you see?’ Ofal’s excitement grew on his musty face.

‘I don’ know,’ said Goble; his dark, grey eyes reflecting the light from the wall torches. ‘It was strange. Somthin’ I ain’t never seen a’fore. Somthin’ bright like…’

Poppea grabbed Alina’s arm and squeezed it. The petrified girl forced unformed, cloud-like images into her mind causing her again to vanish.

‘Never mind. We’ll make one las’ sweep upstairs then we’ll comport back to Clovis.’

The door, which felt oaken and proud when it first creaked open, was now burnished metal; angry and irritable. When pulled tight it hissed scathingly, then settled to a sterile, utilitarian grey without features or decency.

Poppea let out a sigh of relief.

For the first time, Alina was able to see the older girl who had pulled her to safety from the mayhem of the corridor.

Her hair was strawberry pink, and her eyes glowed like violet crystals.

She was mesmerised by her skin which sparkled like crushed diamonds in the light from the blue flamed torches attached at the walls.

Her white shorts and black silk shirt seemed sensible enough, but her mismatched trainers, one pomegranate red and the other tangerine orange, made her wonder, yet again, if she had possibly read Alice in Wonderland a few too many times.

‘Why couldn’t they see us?’ she asked. Even in a dream, especially my own, I should be allowed to ask questions. Yes! Of course that seems reasonable. ‘Why can I see you now when I couldn’t before? Why was the door so angry? Oh, this is such a bother.’

‘How long have you been here?’ asked Poppea tying back her hair – a sparkly silver band clenched between her teeth. ‘In the palace, I mean,’

‘That’s a silly question.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m scarcely sure I’m anywhere at all.’

The sparkly eyed girl thought deeply about this causing her hair to change from pink to emerald green to obsidian then back to pink ‘Well,’ she said casually. ‘Everyone has to be somewhere, mustn’t they? I mean, I can’t rightly imagine the alternatives. Besides, if you were to be nowhere, well, that would hardly fit the requirements of being, now would it?’

‘Is that some kind of riddle?’

‘Goodness no. And don’t go using language like that with me. I’m the one who helped you escape the fighting, remember? Out there?’ she threw her eyes to the door. ‘After you fell?’

‘What word?’ protested Alina wide-eyed – her face expressive. ‘It’s just a word! An ordinary word. I didn’t mean anything by it. Where are we anyway?’

Poppea crossed her shimmering arms and looked indignant. ‘First apologise for the profanity and we’ll consider it a minor infraction.’

‘Oh, all right.’ Alina exhaled her bewilderment. ‘I’m sorry. This is truly an inhospitable place, you know?’

‘Okay. Apology accepted. Now, back to your question, though I really don’t see the benefit in discussing geography right now. Anyway, if you travelled very far…’ She took a deep breath, swallowed and pointed towards the window, ‘…that way, for instance, you’d find yourself in Aeolia. Aeolia is one of the largest kingdoms in the world. It’s mostly forests and hills.’ She rolled her eyes and sighed. ‘If you go in for that sort of thing. But if you simply wandered outside the palace and somehow made it through the main gate, you’d be in Phrygia. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice place, and all, a bit glitzy for my tastes, but it’s full of objects with dark, envious feelings.’

‘Yes,’ said Alina sighing. ‘That’s all quite helpful, I… uhm… think, but, where are we right now?’

Poppea laughed heartily. ‘Well, I would have thought you’d have figured that one out yourself. You seem rather clever for someone so short.’

‘I’m terribly confused. Aeolia? Phrygia? And… what does height have to do with intelligence, anyway?’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Alina. Hmm. I think I may have had another name.’ Her eyes danced merrily in a perky 6/8ths rhythm beneath her feathery lashes while she dipped into thought. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Somehow everything has gotten all jumbled up. I’m not sure of anything anymore. Perhaps it’ll come back when I’m a bit more sensible. This is all such a bother.’

‘Well, Alina,’ said Poppea leaning back against the column. ‘Right now, you’re the sole occupant in the dominion of Alina. According to the present occupancy laws. Of course, as Alina’s chief official, you have the right to change the name if you’d like. Most people don’t though. The less you have to remember the better, right?’

‘And you?’

‘Oh, right! I’m Poppea.’ She offered a soft, glimmering hand. ‘I’m the Governess of Poppea and Sidon.’

‘But…’

‘…I know-I know. How did I come to be the Governess over two domains, right?’

‘I admit, it did occur to me.’

‘Sidon was my best mate, but… he went and got himself captured and caged by Clovis. As they were taking him, he left his dominion to me. It’s not a large estate, mind you, but I watch over it as if it were my own.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Alina eyed her compassionately. ‘Was he your boyfriend?’

‘Nah. Sidon and I were travellers together before we came here to the palace. We looked after each other. Then… well… Sidon is a bit of an argumentative type. He doesn’t care too much for rules either.’

‘You said is.’

‘What?’

‘When you spoke of Sidon, your friend, you said, Sidon is… not was. So, I assume he’s still alive?’

Poppea eyed her suspiciously. The older girl, with delicate features and eyes that kept changing from silver-white to emerald green to crystalline violet, who appeared no more than two months on either side of 17, with her candy-pink hair now pulsating, was glowering at her as if she’d said something terribly wrong. ‘Say, you’re a Pavanne, aren’t you.’

‘I’m sorry, but I don’t have an inkling of what that is.’

‘I’ll bet you’re a Pavanne, all right, and that’s how you were able to make that pillar and how you know so much about Sidon.’

Alina crossed her pale, white arms and appeared indignant.

‘But I don’t know anything about your bloody Sidon. And I don’t have a clue what a stupid Pavanne is either. And I don’t think I like it here.’

She maintained her hostile feelings as her anger rang up the walls ricocheted off the pillar and irritated the door and the windows which opened as if commanding her to leave.

‘Now you’ve done it,’ said Poppea sounding reproachful. ‘Now we have to leave.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you’ve cast aspersions on their domain.’

The emotional girl in khaki shorts and a teal shirt scanned the austere room adorned with nothing more than a small table, four filthy, padded chairs, a dusty tasselled lamp, and a posted bed with only the remnants of shredded bed curtains hung from pewter rings. And, of course, the courteous and erect Corinthian column, nay, a splendid column.

‘I truly meant no disrespect,’ she said. ‘I’m just not used to guarding my feelings about silly furnishings and old building features.’

Poppea grimaced. ‘Oh, Boy. Not a fast learner, are you?’

One remaining window, the lower sash of which, painted shut possibly for centuries, broke free and threw itself open making a loud protesting noise as it met the upper frame.

The soft, muddled girl stood erect and folded her arms.

‘How rude!’

‘I’m afraid,’ said Poppea biting her lip, ‘if a room wants you out, you pretty much have to oblige. After all, it is theirs.’

‘Well, I’m sorry!’ said Alina angrily. ‘But I’ve had about enough of this foolishness. I’m waking up and going home!’

‘Shh… Are you mad? If word gets around that you have a home you’ll be cast out. Okay, listen. I feel as sure as Lun-Day that you’re an actual Pavanne, so…’

‘What is that anyway?’

With her eyes now lavender and her delicate arms crossed, Poppea looked perturbed with Alina’s constant questions.

The light from the window was dreary like warn leather, as the Sun, blue and pale, began dipping towards the lazy horizon. The grassy fields were turning green and despondent, and the shadows in the room lengthened as the Sun kissed the peaks of the eastern hills.

The bed, table and chairs seemed irritated at the onset of yet another gloomy, meaningless night, but the pillar defied the popular sentiment and remained unfazed and dignified.

‘A Pavanne,’ continued Poppea, ‘is like a Prince or Princess. They come, not every day, mind you, to right the world with special gifts. Usually something like poetry or music. Oh, and stuff like wisdom. Other things too. They’ve always come. They find and restore the peace which has an annoying habit of getting lost from time to time. Anyway,’ she thought for a moment while pulling at her lip, ‘I think the best thing to do is to take you to the Prime Minister.’

Alina brightened into a satiny ornament. ‘You have a Prime Minister?’ she asked with her voice rising a full octave.

‘Of course,’ said Poppea mockingly. ‘Who would care for us when we’re old or unfocussed if we didn’t have a Prime Minister?’

‘I’m sorry,’ said the well-mannered girl sounding muddled and dispirited. ‘I’m still painfully disorganised. And certainly no Princess.’ Her sad eyes went down. ‘Perhaps I should just go and leave you alone.’

Poppea retied her long, pink locks into a single braid but continued watching the girl with focussed eyes.

‘Listen to me. Even if you made it out past the guards and through the gate, you wouldn’t last 20 minutes in the Aeolian forest alone. Not the way you are. Look, I’ll take you as far as Surabi. From there you can take a parasol through the Glissando Mountains. They’re usually pleasant to strangers this time of year.’ She eyed her from head to toe. ‘Usually,’ she said in a sluggish drawl. ‘Anyway, if the parasol we choose is cooperative, they tend to be, it will get you get to Antara safely. From there you’ll just have to use your powers to get into the PM’s palace. He’s not an unpleasant chap, that is, well…’

‘Wait a minute,’ said Alina, clearly unsettled. ‘You said I have powers. What powers? I haven’t any powers.’

‘Of course you do. All Pavannes have powers. That’s why they’ve always been pursued or exiled. As I said, it’s not a daily occurrence, mind you. In fact, there’ve only been four before you.’

‘But I’m not a Pavanne! I’m just me! Alina! You’re making me angry!’

‘Okay! Okay! Look.’ Poppea held her at the shoulders. ‘You’re not a Pavanne. Maybe I made it up and you’re just Alina. Just, don’t turn me into a pillar or anything and I’ll see that you get to Surabi, okay?’

‘Oh, all right.’ She sounded both resigned and dispirited.

‘Good,’ she said pulling something from her shorts. ‘Here, have some Basel-berries, it’s a long trip. You’ll need your rest. We’ll leave in about three minutes.’

‘So…’ The unique and uniquely disoriented girl appeared puzzled. ‘Wait a minute. Here you eat berries to get rest?’

‘Well…’ this caused Poppea to think. Her brows came down and her forehead crinkled as if she was thinking hard enough for it to hurt. ‘How exactly do you get rest?’

‘To begin with,’ answered Alina calmly, ‘we call it sleep. And usually it takes eight hours. Give or take.’

‘EIGHT HOURS!’ Poppea held her head and took two steps to her right, then four to her left then two back to where she started. ‘How absurd! How incredibly, incredibly absurd! And, tell me, just Alina, where do you go during these eight hours?’

Alina took a hand-full of the brightly coloured berries and began eating. ‘Well, you don’t go anywhere, really. You just drift though different images and replays of your life or your day. And when you wake, you feel refreshed and ready for another day. Usually.’

Poppea’s braid unfolded itself, which caught Alina’s attention making her eyes flicker, and her bright pink locks flew in disbelief. ‘How absurdly absurd, and what a waste of time.’ She looked pensive and short-tempered. ‘C’mon, eat these and we’ll go, otherwise the room will throw us into the stream or alert Clovis and we’ll end up caged.’

‘You seem to know a lot about this Clovis.’

‘Yes, well, he’s actually my…’ Her voice fell in an odd way.

‘…your, what?’

‘Never mind. Let’s just say we’re all his subjects.’

‘Okay! But What if the Prime Minister won’t help me?’

‘Don’t be silly. You’re a Pavanne. He’ll probably have a party and declare a holiday in your honour.’

At her friend’s insistence,