Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy) Read online

  I prepare the altar by lighting candles and purifying the area

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

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

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

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

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

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

  of kindness towards me.

  “Lorem, my lady.”

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

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

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

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

  English.

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

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

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

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

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

  around my neck. The purple stone starts to swirl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  but they are already paid in blood and pain.

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

  leave after the sacrifice. Their unusual actions make me feel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  eyebrow. “Am I not correct, Bellona?”

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

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

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

  feel very unsettled with this man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  want your oath, Bellona.”

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

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

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

  one favour whenever you need it.”

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

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

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

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

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

  ground closes up. My eyelids flutter and I collapse.

  When I awake, the room is in darkness. My body feels stiff

  and sore. Grabbing the altar helps me steady myself and stops the

  room spinning. I stumble up the stairs, inspecting my face with

  a shaky hand. It is crusted in dry blood. I hold on to the wall as

  I make my way back to my chambers. I stagger to my bed and

  collapse on it, falling into a nightmare of the underworld.

  When I wake, I feel disorientated. I am lying on my bed in my

  gown. Raising my shaky hand to my chest, my fingers rest on my

  pendant. I let out a sigh of relief at feeling it under my fingertips.

  Moving my hand to my cheek, the skin feels rough. I rise on

  shaky legs and examine my face in the mirror. The left side from

  my cheek down to my neck is still crusted in dry blood, but the

  puncture wounds have healed.

  I have never encountered anyone like him.

  Taurus is stationed outside my chamber doors. When I open

  them, he takes in my appearance. I can see he is straining to keep

  his face composed.

  “My lady?”

  “Taurus, get Corrona to fill a bath for me and prepare my

  supper.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Taurus leaves. I sit down on one of my

  armchairs beside the unlit fire. I have seen a lot in m
y hundred

  and fifty years, but never anything like Lucian. And to discover

  that another world exists… not a world I would ever want to

  rule. Corrona enters my chambers and her gaze falls on my

  cheek. She looks away quickly when she catches my eye and

  starts filling my bath.

  Marta - Saskia-

  The next morning, I awake to pounding on my door.

  Rubbing my eyes, I open it and Corrona bursts in.

  “Marta, how are you asleep? I have been awake since

  sunrise.” Corrona is busying herself lighting a fire to boil some

  water for tea.

  After shutting the door, I sit at the table. Corrona stops what

  she is doing and sits across from me, taking my hands in hers.

  “Are you feeling unwell? Is it the baby?” She places a hand on

  my forehead. “You feel a bit warm, but no temperature.”

  I flick her hand away. “Stop fussing. I am fine, just a bad

  night’s sleep.” Hurt flickers across her face. I never tell her about

  Taurus, because I know she will just end up worrying about me.

  “I am sorry. I’m just tired.”

  She gives me a lopsided smile. “All is forgiven. Now, we have

  to get you organised for the festival. Bethany is coming over to

  mine, as are you, and we will get ready together.” Corrona’s

  eyes are sparkling with excitement.

  I can’t help but smile back. “All right, but first I need a hot

  cup of tea to wake me up.”

  Corrona pours out two cups of tea. I cradle mine in my hands.

  We still have three hours before the festival begins. Corrona is

  not coming, as she is married already, but she loves dressing

  me up. When we finish the tea, we leave my cottage and make

  our way to Corrona’s. We chat while waiting on Bethany. She

  works with Corrona in the castle, taking care of the cleaning

  and running of it.

  The castle is divided into three sections—left, middle, and

  right. Both of them work in the left wing and are called L1 and

  L2, as they are head maidens over several other girls.

  After an hour, Corrona gets up from the table. “I am going

  over to Bethany’s to see what is taking her so long. It isn’t like

  her to be late. She was so excited last week when we made plans

  for tonight.”

  I give Corrona a small hug. “All right. I will start getting

  ready.” Corrona throws on her cloak and leaves.

  Sitting in front of Corrona’s dressing table, I start with

  my hair, releasing it from the bun I placed it in this morning.

  Curls bounce around my shoulders. I gather two small pieces

  from the front and tie them loosely, leaving my hair down,

  but keeping it off my face. As I sit sideways, my hair looks

  beautiful in the mirror. Some days from the heat, it would

  be frizzy, but today it is smooth and shiny. I lift my tunic

  and smile at my reflection; pregnancy suits me. I think I look

  beautiful with my bump. I go back into the kitchen and take

  a white rose out of Corrona’s vase of flowers, placing it at

  the side of my hair.

  Corrona returns then, her eyebrows set in a furrow. “She

  wasn’t there,” she says.

  “Don’t worry. She must have gone to someone else’s to get

  ready.”

  “Maybe”

  “Are you not going to say anything about my hair?” I ask

  while twirling around.

  “Oh, Marta, sorry. It is perfect.” She comes over and twirls a

  curl around her finger. “It is perfect.” She says sincerely.

  “Stop worrying, Corrona. Sometimes you worry too much.”

  “You are right. She must have gone to Ancellia’s home…

  maybe…” Then she claps her hands together. “All right, let’s

  get you ready.”

  An hour later, after being pulled and prodded by Corrona,

  I am fully dressed in a beautiful blue dress. All the material

  gathers around my stomach to conceal my bump. It is perfect.

  I arrive at the main square of the village. While I stand there,

  I take in the transformation. I have heard it is one of the most

  magical nights, but have never seen it before. Everything is so

  exquisite. A large platform has been erected for the occasion for

  the king and queen to watch us. It is decorated in the finest silk

  of gold and reds. At each corner, there are fifty-foot sheets of

  white silk material billowing in a slight breeze. I pity whoever

  has to stand there for the night and use their air affinity, no

  doubt a woman.

  I walk deeper into the crowd. Everyone is dressed in their

  finest clothes. The women gather on one side and the men on

  the other. The square is lit by lanterns and candles scattered

  all around. Large barrels have been turned upside down and

  candles are placed in the centre. Someone has spread rose

  petals on the ground to give it the illusion of a carpet. It is

  beautiful.

  Goblets of wine are handed out by servers. A girl hands me

  a goblet while giving me a look of envy. “Your time will come.

  Don’t worry,” I say.

  She gives me a disgusted look. “That’s all right for you to say.

  I have another ten years to wait.” She walks off, serving others

  begrudgingly. I hold the goblet and pretend to take small sips so

  nothing looks suspicious.

  “You look stunning.” I laugh as I face Nicon. And feel very

  shocked. He cleans up well. He’s dressed in a black pair of

  trousers and a snow-white tunic. His beard is shaved, making

  him look younger, and his blue eyes are sparkling.

  “Nicon, you will make some girl’s dreams come true here

  tonight.”

  He laughs slightly, and then kisses me on the cheek. “You

  are too kind, Marta.”

  Beating of drums settles everyone down, except me. The king

  and queen are arriving. My stomach tightens at the thought of

  seeing Morrick.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, bow for your King Morrick and

  Queen Bellona.” The king and queen take their seats, both of

  them dressed in white robes with royal-blue trimmings, the

  colours that represent the matching festival.

  Morrick stands then and walks to the front of the platform.

  “Rise.” I look up and meet his deep grey eyes, causing my

  breath to catch in my chest. A small smile tugs at the corner

  of his mouth, but is gone as soon as it appears. His attention

  is now back on the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we

  will unite you together to live long and happy lives and create

  the next generation.”

  Everyone applauds, the men louder than the women. No

  doubt it is the last statement that makes the men happy. Everyone

  settles back down as the king continues to speak.

  “Once everyone is matched, we will celebrate with dancing

  and wine.” Another roar goes up; then Morrick returns to his

  throne.

  A small man with a large scroll takes his place at the front of

  the platform. He wears all blue down to his sandals. His nose is

  too big for his face, his eyes too small. He starts the list, letting

  the scroll unwind. It hits the wood with a large thud. He clears
>
  his throat and a voice erupts that doesn’t match his face, much

  too deep and loud. “Felix is matched with Seth.” And the list

  goes on.

  After several minutes and smiling couples, Nicon’s name is

  mentioned. I squeeze his hand and he smiles down at me. “Nicon

  is matched with Claudia.” Claudia squeals with joy from across

  the stage and then blushes when Nicon smiles over at her. She is

  petite and pretty. I know her face from the gardens. She works

  the fruit and vegetable section. Her squeal of joy causes the little

  man to give her a stern look. He continues with more names,

  and more sounds of joy gush, causing his face to grow grumpier

  each time.

  “Marta is matched with…” I hold my breath, hoping it is

  someone I can push away easily over time. “Taurus.” I look

  up at the little man in disgust and can see Morrick staring at

  Bellona in shock as she smirks. Was I imaging that? I feel ill as

  the big brute comes towards me, grinning. I look the other way,

  pretending I don’t see him.

  “Well, well, well. Aren’t you a lucky girl?” The smell of wine

  hits my face. He seems to be always drunk and this infuriates

  me.

  The music starts up then, signalling the beginning of the

  celebrations. I look up at Taurus with a show of disgust on my

  face.

  He laughs. “Do not be like that. I promise we will have

  lots of fun.” He winks at me, pulling me into his sweaty

  body.

  I push him away. “I think I will wait another ten years.”

  I storm off, pushing my way through the crowd, wanting

  to get as far away from Taurus as possible. When I reach

  the edge of the mass, I start to calm and watch all the new

  couples dance and talk. After an hour of standing alone, my

  mood darkens. I know Morrick can’t be with me in public,

  but times like these make me feel even lonelier. I take the

  rose out of my hair and throw it on the ground and start

  walking back to my cottage.

  A voice comes from behind me. “You dropped this.” I freeze

  with fear. Has Taurus followed me? I try to muster up as much

  courage as possible.

  “Go away.” I turn around and am faced with Morrick

  holding my white rose.

  I bow. “Sorry, your highness, I thought you were—”