The Power of Two

By Helen Hone and Alasdair Millard

Edrei’s yearning to be with her dead twin sister, Elise, drives her to desperate measures. She risks everything to reunite, fearing Elise is in terrible danger. Yet this quest takes a perilous turn when Edrei defies Gaia’s rules making a formidable enemy in Tal. She will need all her strength to survive the terrible consequences. Even then, will Gaia deem her worthy to enter her Afterlife?

Happy in the Afterlife, Elise does not want to reunite; she has plans of her own. She aspires to be Gaia’s Sister, ruling alongside Tal as her devoted Sylph fulfilling every desire. Yet infatuation blinds Elise to Tal’s true intentions which he’ll stop at nothing to achieve.

As Edrei battles to find Elise an escalating danger threatens all realms, and only reunited twin-power can fight against this impending catastrophe. Will Edrei and Elise overcome the obstacles in time? Can Gaia be trusted and who is Mrs Magna? The fate of all the world hangs in precarious balance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Apr 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9781035861088

Helen Hone

Helen spent her happy childhood playing freely around the fields of her village. Her imaginary friend, Catherine, was always with her, as were the faes who lived amongst the hedgerows, streams, and woods. She always wanted to be an Infant teacher, and lived this dream for 25 years. Story time was always her favourite part of the day when imaginations grew and flew. Her childhood sweetheart, three adored children and barky but cute Westie Dougie, fill her life with love. Helen is a lone-twin so she has always been fascinated with death and what comes after. She has spent her life longing to be reunited with her twin sister (Catherine), and this is the first book of a trilogy about that journey.

Book preview

About the Author

Helen spent her happy childhood playing freely around the fields of her village. Her imaginary friend, Catherine, was always with her, as were the faes who lived amongst the hedgerows, streams, and woods. She always wanted to be an Infant teacher, and lived this dream for 25 years. Story time was always her favourite part of the day when imaginations grew and flew. Her childhood sweetheart, three adored children and barky but cute Westie Dougie, fill her life with love. Helen is a lone-twin so she has always been fascinated with death and what comes after. She has spent her life longing to be reunited with her twin sister (Catherine), and this is the first book of a trilogy about that journey.

Dedication

For those I love in this life and those I long to be with in

the Afterlife.

Copyright Information ©

Helen Hone 2024

The right of Helen Hone to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781035861071 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781035861088 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2024

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

This would not have been written without my twin sister, Catherine and my constantly supportive husband and family. My fantasy world was created with inspiration from Hilda Boswell, Arthur Rackham, Brian Froud and fantasy writers such as Tolkien, C.S Lewis and Neil Gaiman. Studying at Middlesex University awakened my love of writing and Austin Macauley Publishers provided encouragement, seeing potential in my first novel.

An apple cleft in two is not more twin

Than these two creatures

Twelfth Night-William Shakespeare

The Power of Two

Gaia-Mother Earth, Creator of all, presides over the Afterlife

Petra Magna-Gaia’s twin in the human world

Edrei-Human twin

Elise-Arboreal Fae twin wanting to be a Sister

Alwyn-Twins’ father now a revered Terra Fae Apothecary

Tellus-meeting of Sisters and Sylphs, controlled by Gaia.

Crossover-Blended world between the Human realm and Afterlife. Place of Tasks, Sylphs oversee tasks in Crossover.

Trog realm-Subterranean Realm where Trogs work to keep Gaia’s earth pure. Provides the realms precious gems and metal.

Sister Sierra-Trog Sister who rules the realm.

Sylph Zephr-Trog Sister’s servant, an Air Spirit with more power, allowed to attend Tellus meetings.

Water Nymph Realm-Water Realm where Gaia’s water is kept pure. Nymphs unpredictable but wise, close bonds with the Faes.

Sister Cyrena-Nymph Sister

Sylph Aura-Cyrena’s servant

Arboreal Fae Realm-Tree-dwelling Faes, brave warriors. Keep Gaia’s air pure.

Sister Breena-has ruled Arboreal Faes for many moons, now is fading.

Sylph Tal-the most adored Sylph, Gaia’s favourite

Terra Fae Realm-Ground-dwelling beings who care for all flora and fauna. Make everything required in the realms.

Sister Alvy-Rules the Terra Fae Realm

Sylph Coro-Sister Alvy’s servant

Bhuva-Air Spirit Realm, telepathic guards who uphold Gaia’s laws.

Edrei

Preface

You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.

Kahlil Gibran

Elise

We grew together, sharing a home, curling, and cuddling like dormice. I was your protector and literal shield. I took the full force of radiation, sheltering you. You clung to me, willing me to live.

Please don’t leave me! you whispered in my ear, whilst I soothed, We two are one. We will be reunited.

Then I was born, bloody, black and limp. Silence. No life-affirming cry. Sister Magna, the midwife, bundled me away, whispering, I’ll look after her.

You were born second, weak and blue, clinging to life with minute fists. Your nose was red, where you’d buried your despair in my lifeless body.

As you grew, I watched: comforting, encouraging, a constant companion. So alike and yet so different. Two halves of a whole, both longing for each other.

But I was dead, and you were dying to be with me.

Edrei.

The sunny, spring morning sparkled, perfumed with sweet May blossom and earthy wild garlic. I pushed the hedge apart with my small hands, so I could squeeze through. Once on the other side, the stream shone, wiggling its way along. The green and brown banks were edged with trees, shielding the stream, hiding my secret. I only felt happy here, everywhere else I felt half alive. I struggled out of my waterproofs, pulling my black, baggy t-shirt straight. I sat down, hurriedly wrenching off my trainers, and dipping my toes into the glassy water. I sighed, imagining my tense breath floating downstream. Time stopped; the light shimmered; the world seemed to hold its breath. All that I was, ceased.

I stood up gingerly, paddling slowly into the middle of the rippling water. Looking downstream, I watched the sun shafts warp, as they captured dust and flies. The water’s coolness clasped my ankles, and the stones prodded my feet. I stopped in the middle of the stream and scrunched up my toes, pushing them down into the mud, sending clouds of grey tumbling backwards. The ripples reflected the blue and green above, as the water underneath turned opaque. I stretched my arms wide, tilting my head backwards to look up at the quivering branches overhead, which seemed to curve protectively over me. I breathed in deeply, then softly called, E-l-i-s-e.

A blackbird’s sudden, piercingly pure song serenaded Elise’s arrival. I stood frozen and fascinated as Elise began to form in front of me. Her slim brown and green body was framed by her long wavy hair and diaphanous glistening wings. Even though this had happened many times before, it still made me quiver with excitement. The warm breeze rippled her hair, as her body came into focus. I could feel the hole inside me filling. Elise giggled, grasping both my hands, commanding, Come on, let’s play!

Yet our time together was too brief, and I had to return to my mum’s angry disappointment.

Look at your clothes, you have been away with the faeries again?

I only felt completely happy when we were together.

Chapter 1: Human Realm

This truth is certain when this life is o’er Man dies to live, and lives to die no more.

Milford Bard-The Casket Vol 5

Fat globules of rain dangled from my fringe. I blinked, and those clinging to my eyelashes trickled down my cheeks. My hunched shoulders ached; my legs felt damp and chilled. As the rain fell harder, I stood motionless, clenching my fists, and tensing my arms.

Come on, Elise, I hissed through gritted teeth.

I stared at Elise’s gravestone as it turned from alabaster to grey. The inscription glistened:

Grief and loss

No Life, just death

Always in our broken hearts

Our darling Angel Elise

I’d only weighed 4lbs at birth, the same as a bag of sugar. My mum had always told me how my father could hold me in one hand. Though small, I was strong and had survived; first a womb survivor and then a scoliosis warrior. I had never been normal. I tried to imagine what my twin sister would look like at fifteen: petite, blond, pretty, the opposite of me. Why didn’t she want to see me? As soon as I turned thirteen, she stopped appearing. For months, I called and begged her to come to me, but she never did. Eventually, loneliness and despair engulfed me and I gave up. My happy place became a place of sadness, so I stopped going there. I couldn’t shift the feeling that Elise needed me, she was in trouble, and danger stalked her. This feeling grew and I knew I had to go to her and help her. My mum tried to reach me and cheer me up, but she was struggling with her own crushing grief. Her smile never lit up her eyes.

Every birthday I was told how unfair it was that I had survived, and Elise hadn’t. It was my fault it seemed, and this guilt poisoned my mind. I became bitter and angry, turning away from everyone. Why couldn’t I have taken Elise’s place? She would have made mum happy, instead of causing her worry. Without Elise, I shrank further into myself, drifting down into singular isolation. I began to visit the graveyard, hoping Elise would come to me there. Mrs Magna, the village crone, had told me we were eternally connected to our graves; it was our lasting link with the world and the only way back.

Like every other day, I closed the lych gate quietly and walked across the graves towards Elise and Dad. As the years passed, Dad’s neat, grey stone had begun to darken and blend in. I remembered the drenched November day when he’d been buried. It had been so wet his grave hole had been full of water. I flinched and remembered the sound of his coffin being lowered into the water. He’d died and then drowned. What had happened to his body? Had it become bloated and grotesquely swollen like bodies pulled from rivers? He didn’t deserve that. Why hadn’t they stopped the burial when I screamed? I took a ragged breath as my familiar anxious thoughts consumed me. I looked around to try and calm down.

The rain was lessening, becoming occasional spots. From the church’s roof edge, it trickled over the stone tiles into the lead guttering. Musically, then it dropped out of the gargoyles’ piped mouths onto the gutter tiles, which edged the grass below. As I walked along the meandering, puddled, church path, the rain stopped. Weak sunlight was attempting to light the grey clouds.

Our local church was honey-coloured and adorned with carved statues. It squatted strong and ancient, encircled by graves and a small protective stone wall. Its tower peered over the village houses as its clock timed everyone’s lives. I spent my time cutting my graves’ grass, arranging flowers, and scrubbing off lichen. I knew all the graves and their epitaphs, these people kept me company. Being there became a daily habit which helped me avoid walking home from school with everyone else. I craved quiet, only ever wanting to be with the person I couldn’t be with. If anyone else came into the churchyard or it was raining, I’d hide under the huge yew tree’s canopy. Its dense branches cast impenetrable, black shadows, its gloom cloaked and hid me. When curled up by its trunk, or sitting on its lower branches, I became arboreal; no longer alive but observing life like an ancient, sentient being. But not once did Elise come. So I became fixed on the idea of going to find her, knowing Mrs Magna would be the only one to understand and help me. The church clock struck four, disturbing the yew tree’s jackdaws.

Mrs Magna scraped open the lych gate and looked towards me, tutting loudly as she folded it down. She shook her head on seeing how wet I was. I smiled at her flinging my bedraggled hair from side to side, like a dog. Mrs Magna chuckled, No coat, Edrei? Bin looking after y’ Dad’s ‘n’ sister’s graves ‘gain, ’ave you? They’d be proud o’ you, her hoarse voice crackled.

Would they? I wondered out loud, pressing my lips together, as tears flooded my eyes. The drizzly breeze lifted Mrs Magna’s grey, bobbed hair as she pulled her raggedy coat around her. She stopped in front