Jesnia

By Marie Godley

Cassie was just trying to get through her A-Levels at school, then Sheridan showed up and changed everything.

Sheridan was a seeker. It was his duty to find a girl, a girl prophesised to save his kingdom.

He knew Cassie was the one. Could he persuade her to risk everything, including the possibilty of never getting back home?

If she did accompany him through the gateway to Jesnia, could she make a difference and change the fate of his kingdom?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marie Godley
• Release date: Jan 9, 2018
• ISBN: 9781540144959

Marie Godley

Marie Godley resides in Christchurch, Dorest with her family. Lucky enough to live in a town with historical buildings to roam around, as well as having the sea and the New Forest National Park nearby, she has plenty to do when taking a break from writing.

Book preview

Acknowledgments

Thank you to my fellow authors who have done a brilliant job of beta reading for me: Jennifer Loiske, Melissa Rutter, Loretta Livingstone and Heidi Peltier. Thanks also to Jordan and Megan Godley for helping me with all aspects of the book

My family deserve my thanks for putting up with me whilst I’m writing. I tend to disappear on them, or start daydreaming when I should be concentrating on other things. And for encouraging me and always believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.

But my biggest thanks must go to you, the readers who have bought this book. I hope you enjoy it.

Dedication

To all those that see diamond-dust in the air

and have the courage to walk through it.

Prophecy

To save your world

You’ll need to find

A girl from another

In your pool

You’ll see a school

Amid chaos and disorder

Find a place to open a gate and

Send a seeker through

Who’ll bring her back to you

Chapter One

Cassie

Cassie

The whispered hisses and head turning from the rest of my class draw my attention, and as I look up from my book I see a boy, well a guy, walk into the room. He must be new - I’ve never seen him before. He glances round before going to stand next to Mr Wallis, then his eyes roam about the classroom again. I feel for him. I have been going to this school for six years, and I don’t feel comfortable here, it must be horrible to start at a different one during your A-levels. Mr Wallis takes the slip of paper the newcomer hands him without acknowledging his presence. He adds him to the register then dismisses him without as much as a smile.

I shake my head at his lack of manners – welcoming someone to his class would have been nice.

There is a spare seat next to Cassandra that will do for now, he says, gesturing towards me in an offhand way. I grit my teeth – giving him chance to sit next to another male would have been better.

Scowling at his insensitivity, and his use of my full name; he is the only teacher who refuses to call me Cassie, I look down. Apart from being shy to the point when I often wish I were invisible, I don’t want the new guy to think I am scowling at him. Plenty of time for him to earn my scowls later, people usually do. I have little patience for most of the people in my school, especially my classmates.

He slings his bag onto the floor and drops his books on top of the table before he twists himself onto the seat, leaving his legs sticking out into the aisle. I feel panic running through my system as my personal space is invaded. There is a reason I like this table, even though it’s at the front of the class – I sit on my own, and there is no-one to dominate or tease me. I can put my head down, get on with my work and block everyone else out.

The guy next to me sighs. I get the impression he doesn’t want to be here either.

Annotate the text I’m handing out. Remember to look at all the things we discussed in the last lesson. Verbs, quotes, hidden meanings. Mr Wallis drones on and people quietly groan.

They begin working in pairs, not that Mr Wallis says we can, but that isn’t going to stop them. Beside me, the guy is busy flicking his pen up and down. I’m  wondering if I should offer to work with him as he wasn’t here yesterday, but I can’t force the words out – I don’t want him to think I’m suggesting he isn’t capable. Seeing his brooding profile, I start my own work. He emits another sigh, pulls the photocopied paper closer and begins writing.

Trying to pretend that I’m still alone at my table isn’t working, as I can hear his chair creaking every time he fidgets. Shuffling in mine, I lean on my elbow. People are whispering as they compare notes. I read through my page once more, grabbing my marker pen when I find one I missed. He is sighing again. I don’t blame him – I’m ready to sigh too. Holding my pen to the paper makes it look as if I’m thinking – which I am, but not about the work.

At last the bell rings, signalling our release. Quickly, I gather my stuff, practically throwing my paper on Mr Wallis’ desk.  I risk a glance at my new table occupant and wonder if I should see if he needs any help, not that I know what to say, but Mel is already bearing down on him. Flicking her hair and fluttering her eyelashes; giving it the ‘I know I’m gorgeous routine’, safe in the knowledge that she will ensnare him.

Feeling only a momentary twinge of guilt, and much more relief, I hurry out to meet Sarah, who is already standing outside the classroom.

Who’s that? she whispers, looking over my shoulder.

Startled, I glance back. He’s behind me and not with Mel; she is standing beside my table with outrage plastered across her face.

I don’t know, I admit to Sarah. A new guy.

She rolls her eyes at me and steps in front of him; she is as outgoing as I am shy, something I’ve always envied about her. I can’t figure out how we stay friends.

Hi, I’m Sarah, she smiles, her wavy, fair hair framing her face. We’re heading to the field to eat our lunch. Do you need any help finding the cafeteria, or are you meeting someone?

Groaning inwardly, I’m already shrivelling from embarrassment. How can she just approach him and ask him outright like that?

Thanks Sarah. I wasn’t sure where to go to eat my lunch, he admits, smiling politely.

You’re welcome to join us...? she leaves the question hanging.

I’m Sheridan. I’d be happy to sit with you, if that’s okay? he asks, glancing at me; after all we’d yet to exchange a word despite sitting next to each other for the previous hour. He must want to get to know Sarah quite badly if he is willing to put up with me for another hour.

Sure, I mumble, my cheeks going red at my inability to string a sentence together. I’d had so many chances since he’d arrived in class and I hadn’t known how to talk to him.

Bending my head, I follow behind them, but Sarah slows her pace until I’m walking next to her. Luckily, the end of September is unusually warm, so we sit on the grass in the sunshine. The temperature is just right for me, and I close my eyes to enjoy the warmth on my face and let out a contented sigh. I let the hum of Sarah and Sheridan’s conversation wash over me. I suppose it would help to listen, then I might learn something about him, but I’m tired and the sun feels good.

Sheridan laughs, and the sound makes me smile - it’s an unaffected laugh. I peer at him from under my fringe. Usually, I’m good at reading people, but I’m having trouble figuring him out. He is good looking. Warm-coloured skin, wild, collar length hair and dark eyes, I can’t say exactly what colour. He’s not shy. He’s animated whilst chatting to Sarah, although I can tell from the hard lines of his shoulders that he’s tense. And he’s studying each girl that passes, not a casual glance, an intense, if quick, stare. Perhaps he doesn’t really want to sit with us but was too polite to say no to Sarah. Maybe he’d seen someone he liked this morning and was searching for her.

Cassie! Sarah’s sharp voice breaks through my musings. I said I have to see Mrs Morris before class. Sheridan has English Lit, so I assume he’s with you again?

I scowl in reply. Yes, the delights of Mr Wallis for another hour, I growl.

She laughs and gives me a quick hug, before picking up her bag.

See you later, she sings and races across the field before I can suggest walking with her.

I feel her absence, wondering if things will be awkward between Sheridan and me now. We gather our things slowly, and I check the ground to make sure we haven’t forgotten anything.

Sheridan stops, a look of confusion on his face.

I don’t know if I should call you Cassandra or Cassie? he says, almost in a whisper.

Cassie, I reply vehemently. Mr Wallis is the only person who calls me Cassandra ...or my parents when I’m in trouble.

Sheridan swiftly smothers a laugh.

I take it from your expression, that you don’t like Mr Wallis?

Oh no! I must be scowling again.

"He’s not very interested in us; I’m not sure why he’s an English teacher. The only books he cares about are Shakespeare, or at a push, Dickens. How can anyone not feel passionate about Austen, especially Pride and Prejudice? He’ll be killing it for the next hour." I stop talking, embarrassed that I’d let myself get carried away like that whilst talking to Sheridan. I don’t dare look at him, sure he’ll be laughing at me again.

He doesn’t say anything in response to my outburst, though I can feel him looking at me. My cheeks go red under his scrutiny and I wish, not for the first time, that I could control my blushing. I would love to just flick my hair back and stare at him, sadly I’m not confident enough. We cross the field in silence, and he stands back to let me enter the classroom first. I make my way to my table, surprised when he sits next to me again. I give him a shy smile.

Mr Wallis arrives; he doesn’t look happy. He opens the book he is carrying but everyone carries on talking. Others are still making their way into the room. With a thunderous look on his face, he slaps his desk. It’s enough to get everyone’s attention. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I find it quite amusing, I look at Sheridan to find him smirking behind his hand. 

Page 81, Mr Wallis snaps.

Books are hastily opened, amidst quiet groans from some kids. Am I the only one who likes this book? Mr Wallis, red in the face, begins to read. "Mr Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends ..."

My attention wanders immediately. Whether it is because Sheridan is sharing my book and therefore sitting quite close to me or not, I don’t know, but I can’t concentrate on Mr Wallis’ portrayal of Mr Darcy. He is so lacking in vocal expression. I mentally tune him out, enough to alleviate my suffering though not enough to render me unaware of what page we are on.

An hour later the bell rings, putting an end to Mr Wallis’ torture of Pride and Prejudice. Whilst I’m pleased to be free of his droning voice I’m going to miss sitting next to Sheridan. He’s gone from someone who was invading my personal space to someone I wish I could get to know better. Sheridan gets up and stretches then shakes his head.

I think it’s probably a great story, but it’s hard to tell the way he reads it, he says.

I look at him astonished.

You weren’t studying it in your old school?  I thought that all A-level literature exams studied the same syllabus.

We had different books to read, he says hesitantly. I think I might like this one.

I grin warmly. Anyone who likes Jane Austen, especially Pride and Prejudice wins me over. Pride and Prejudice is my favourite. I love all the characters, although I often want to slap the sisters and Mrs Bennet. Elizabeth is my favourite; she’s feisty, happy to be her own person and doesn’t alter her beliefs or her personality to fit in with others. Of course, I wouldn’t mind my own Mr Darcy or Pemberley either.

SHERIDAN PLONKS HIMSELF down on the seat next to me.

English again. He smiles, giving me the same greeting that he has used for the last three days. I’d been so surprised when he’d continued to sit with me.

Ah, but you know how much you love it, I tease him. I look forward to my English lessons now. I’m more relaxed with him, when it’s just the two of us. We mainly talk about the work or books; he loves to read too. 

Are you coming for lunch? I ask at the end of the lesson. It’s dry today we can go back to the field. We’d spent the last couple of days sheltering in the corridors because of the rain.

We meet Sarah and walk out to the large tree at the far side of the field. Sarah and I put our coats onto the wooden bench before we sit down, but Sheridan throws himself onto the ground.

Isn’t it wet? I ask.

I’ve sat on wetter. He shrugs.

He flops back and closes his eyes. I’ve seen him talking to lots of other girls over the last few days, but he still joins us for lunch. I can’t figure him out. He is kind and good humoured; the only time he seems irritated is when he’s in lessons. He’s probably bored by them. I’ve yet to see him play any sport, but his t-shirt shows a well defined chest and his upper arms are quite muscular. Why does he look so rugged? Even the school’s top athletes look small compared to him.

Suddenly, I feel him watching me; there is intensity about his expression that I’m not sure about.

What did you do in class this morning? Sheridan asks Sarah.

Oh I had a test – it sucked. Sarah groans. What about you two?

We had to rewrite a fairy tale, Sheridan says, rolling his eyes.

"Did you rewrite Beauty and the Beast, Cassie?" She asks slyly.

I throw her a dirty look. Sarah and I have been friends since we first started school. She knows everything about me and loves to tease me whenever she can. She won’t let anybody else say anything to hurt me though.

Very funny, I retort, throwing a twig off the tree at her.

As Sheridan looks at us, a frown on his face, she fills him in on her secret joke.

When she was younger, Cassie told me that she thought it was a shame that the beast had become human at the end of the story, because Beauty had fallen in love with a beast not a human prince, she says with a laugh.

Feeling mortified, I shake my head as I look over at Sheridan, expecting to see him laughing at my expense. However, although he is smiling, his face shows surprise and something else I can’t quite make out. His green eyes; I know they are green now, hold mine for a moment. I feel a jolt through my whole body and I look away, confused.

I’ve got to go to class, Sheridan exclaims, jumping up suddenly.

I stare at his retreating back, wondering what the problem is.

Sarah didn’t seem to notice anything unusual.

Sorry, Hun, you know I don’t mean it, she says as a way of apologising for her teasing.