Acclayne Book 1: The Game Begins

All of this sitting around was becoming extremely agitating. The tiresome old bugger behind the big desk had not made any smart remarks for some time; I was beginning to suspect that he may have fallen asleep. Juney on the other hand was still very much awake; but just as quiet. I had made a few attempts at strained conversation with her, asking her about her job and whatnot. Her real job, in this place. From the little information that she gave me I could safely assume that she worked for the Palace. She had described her coming to work in my building as a reconnaissance mission; that she had never expected to need to bring me back with her: just gather some information. To me that was about as clear as mud. I hadn’t the faintest idea why on Earth anyone would be that interested in me. But then we weren’t on Earth anymore, were we? So I suppose it didn’t really have to make sense.

I began to fidget. I had been sitting up perfectly straight for what seemed like an eternity and I was starting to feel quite stiff. This was not helped by the fact that what little alcohol I had consumed had worn off- leaving me with the beginnings of a mild hangover as a parting gift. I crossed, uncrossed and re-crossed my legs. As I did so I felt the heel of my shoe snag on my tights; leaving me with a lovely, long, flesh coloured ladder down one leg. Fabulous. I let out an exasperated sigh which caught Juney’s attention. Her eyes flickered downwards to my leg.

“Hard luck.”

“Is it very noticeable?” I asked; knowing full well that it was and that I could have picked any other time to ladder my tights and it wouldn’t have been nearly as inconvenient.

“Maybe, but then I am sat right next to you. I wouldn’t curtsey too low mind you. Half your leg would be on show.”

“Brilliant, thanks for that one.”

“No problem.” I wondered if they had sarcasm here or if Juney just refused to rise to it. I picked gently at the loose nylon with my finger. It seemed as though it had grown as much as it was going to; that was some consolation I guessed. It was at the same time that I decided to slouch down in my chair that there was movement from the big door opposite. I automatically scooted up; feeling like I’d been caught doing something wrong.

The two wooden doors were so massive that when I had first arrived I had mistaken them for part of the wall. One door was now creaking open slowly on it’s large metal hinges. I expected that it would take a lot of force to open and wondered at the size of the person behind the door. I was stunned to see a slender, elderly lady step out from behind it.

“The King and Queen will see you now.” Her voice was soft yet authoritative; she put me in mind of my grandmother; she would have all the love in the world for you but you crossed her at your peril. Juney stood and strode confidently across the room towards the door. She didn’t even look back to see if I was following her. The older lady looked at me still sitting in the chair. It seemed I was meant to follow. I stood quickly and wobbled inelegantly on my high heels, tottering clumsily across the room and through the door. The lady followed me through and closed the door behind us.

Methyn found himself stood in front of a massive wooden door. He peered up at it. It was perfectly straight and the oddly angled stonework appeared to have formed around it; as if the door had been there always and someone had attempted to build around it; badly. To his right their guide was pacing nervously and taking in deep gulps of air. He had proven to be somewhat nervy and had been absolutely no help when they had lost Kaylaer. Methyn patted himself, mentally, on the back. Although his dinner had made an appearance he was able to spring into action. Their guide, on the other hand, had begun to hyperventilate and was no use to anyone so Malcolm and Methyn had searched for Kaylaer alone.

Looking at her now it was hard to believe that just a short time before she had been sat in a corner looking so small and lost. Malcolm was trying to make conversation with her now; her response was to shove him, hard, and walk away. Methyn thought that maybe he should intervene but was just relieved that she was coming back round. Suddenly she was at his side.

“So, we going in or what?” She was gripping her wrist tightly. She imagined that she could still feel a slight warmth there; that if she could hold it tight enough she might not lose it, and that the memories of her rescuer’s face would stop fading from her mind. Try as she might it was no use; and it was frustrating her, though right now standing outside in the damp, cold, night air was a more pressing concern. “It’s bloody freezing.”

“Language.”

“Whatever. Can we not just go in? Leave whatshisname out here?” She gestured to their guide. He was still pacing. This was; apart from the meeting new people aspect, the worst part of his job. He knew exactly what waited behind that door for him, and he hated and feared it more with every visit. His friends would tease him; say that one day he would snap and he had a feeling that it would be the monster behind that door that would push him over the edge. And he would probably take great joy in doing it too.

“Look, the kids are getting antsy and we’re late enough as it is; we should probably just head in don’t you think?” Methyn attempted to speak in a soothing tone but it came out more agitated than he had intended. He dealt with anxious children in school. He was useless with them as well; had no patience with them, which just served to make them worse, so he avoided them as best he could.

“Y-y-y-yes, quite right. Late enough now.” He breathed, long deep breaths. He looked across to the tall, muscular guard and nodded. The guard was used to this behaviour now. He had been warned about this nut job on his first day; Chief messenger apparently. Scrawny little bag of nerves. Having to wait so long for him to go in used to annoy him but he had started to time the nervous outbursts. Only ten minutes today; nothing to write home about. He heaved the door open and the unlikely group headed inside.

They found themselves in a large room with chairs and suits of armour lining the walls; standard Palace entry hall from what Malcolm could ascertain. He had never seen one in real life that was for sure, but he was pleased that it was just as he would have expected; though the room seemed less grand than he’d imagined. The chairs were less plush that had thought they’d be and the armour less gleaming but he was astounded by his surroundings nonetheless. He wandered slowly around the room and away from the group so that he could take it all in; storing it for later when he could write about it in his notebook. When packing his small bag for the journey he had checked and double checked that he had remembered his notebook. It was full of fascinating facts that he had read about, little doodles and diagrams, original ideas that he had come up with all by himself. He was scared of learning something only to forget it later; as long as he had his notebook he was safe.

Kaylaer floated along behind Methyn. She was still not feeling entirely comfortable, her hand had not yet released her wrist. She would never admit it but as long as she kept the others in view, for now at least - her worries were eased.

The messenger walked a little way ahead of them; towards a rather tall, wooden desk. Behind it sat a severely wrinkled old man. He looked as though he was scowling over his pile of papers, but the creases in his face made it hard to tell. The messenger shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“You’re late.”

“I k-k-k-know, we ran into a litt-”

“Speak up, and don’t stammer. I can barely understand you.”

“I s-said we had a b-bit of trouble.”

“That is hardly my problem, is it?”

“W-w-well I nev-”

“No, it is not. I scheduled your appointment myself.”

“Y-yes I-”

“Do not interrupt me.”

“I-” Methyn sat himself down across the room, leaving the two men to it. It looked as though they were in for a bit of a wait.

Through the huge doors I found myself standing in a grand throne room. The majority of the room was in darkness apart from the far end where I could make out two figures sat on their thrones; the King and Queen of Corthus. As the torches flickered I noticed how the long shadows danced against the stone walls. It was all starting to feel very ‘medieval drama‘. Juney and I followed the older lady down the length of the room. Her stride was long and confident and I struggled to maintain a decent pace in my heels. She stopped abruptly before us and bowed low from the waist; the way a man might.

“Announcing Juney Cholden of Quintthessa and Alaina Oakley… of Earth.” I was pretty sure I heard a touch of condescension at the mention of my home. Bloody cheek. Juney quietly cleared her throat; she was bowing low at the waist also. I curtseyed awkwardly as not to show too much cleavage. I was sure they could see more than enough of me already.

“Thank you. That will be all.” The King’s voice was gruff and quiet. He did not look at his servant when he addressed her. In fact he did not look up from his lap. His hands were folded together, too tightly. “Cholden.”

“Your highness.”

“I trust your journey went well?” I noticed that he still did not look up but he brought up his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb; leaning forward on his elbow. Hardly a regal position. His Queen sat beside him; straight as a poker. She had small delicate features and her skin was pallid from being kept inside the palace. Her blonde hair was cropped just below the chin and it struck me that if not for her regal garb she would not look out of place back home. It appeared as though her dress and robes were made from velvet and lace; the dark emerald green complemented her complexion. As I studied her I became aware that her dark eyes were on me; a small smile had formed on her lips.

“Yes your Highness. For the most part at least; I fear we may have been spotted.”

His head snapped up, “May have been or were, Cholden?” His voice had become loud and angry, I notice his eyes were bloodshot. He wasn’t sleeping.

“May have, your Highness.” Juney bowed low beside me as if to sate the King. “We lost our tail before returning.”

“You are aware of the delicacy of the current situation are you not?” Juney nodded emphatically in reply. “I trust that your companion has not yet been debriefed?” I bristled at being referred to as if I was not even in the room; he had not even glanced at me. The Queen on the other hand seemed content to observe me with some amusement.

“No your Highness.”

“In that case she shall be debriefed in the morning. The rest of your party has not yet arrived.” So we were to be accompanied on whatever little escapade I was being dragged into? Fabulous, Juney was proving not to be such good company. Before she could respond the King had stood; “If you shall excuse me I must get some air.” He looked significantly older than his wife; the black circles beneath his eyes were prominent, and his whole body seemed to sag as if under some immense strain. Despite this he still managed to exude a majestic authority. He said no more before sweeping between the both of us and out of the room entirely. The Queen remained seated on her throne.

“Pardon my husband.” Her voice was sweet and high as a bell. “He is somewhat tormented these last few weeks.” Juney nodded in understanding beside me.

“Understandable your Highness.”

“Yes, well quite.” She smiled brightly, “It’ll all be fixed soon enough I should expect. The situation is well in hand.” Her voice was chirpy and her demeanour light and friendly, though there was a look in her eyes that I couldn’t place. Whatever was troubling her husband was no doubt also troubling his young wife; no matter how happy she seemed. I wondered what mess I was being dragged into. “Now then dear…” To my surprise she addressed me directly.

“Ah, your Highness?” I imagined that this is what a dear caught in headlights might feel like. The full force of her positive demeanour was now upon me; her bright, wide smile and her large eyes… I was distinctly dazzled.

“As much as I adore your quaint outfit, I rather think we should find you something more appropriate; it is quite cold here after all.” She laughed at her own comment; the sound tinkled and echoed around the large room. I felt that maybe I should be insulted but found myself more embarrassed than anything else. I could feel my face beginning to flush. Just what I needed; to look like an inappropriately dressed tomato. “No matter, I’m sure we can find you something suitable. I’ll have a girl bring some clothes to your room. Juney, you can find the rooms by yourself?” She did not wait for a response; “Fabulous, I must fetch my husband to receive our other guests. Until tomorrow ladies.” She nodded to us and Juney curtseyed. I followed suit a moment too late and rushed to follow her out of a small side door. I felt the Queen’s eyes on our backs as we left.

“What do you mean Cartaisey was unable to attend!” The King stood up in a rage. Methyn had known he would not be well received as his master’s replacement. He was very rarely well received, even when he had actually been invited.

“Y-y-y-our Highness, Cartaisey has sent Methyn personally as his replacement. H-h-he is his second at the school.” The messenger was a jittering mess and could barely get his words out but at the mention of Methyn as Cartaisey’s second the King seemed a little placated.

“Personally you say?” He sagged back into his chair and Methyn noted that he seemed unusually drained for the time of day. “Not what we were hoping for, but better than nothing I suppose.” Methyn bristled. If he’d had his way he would have given them nothing; how would he have liked it then? As it was Methyn just stood there unable to answer back. He was the King after all. “You may leave.” The King waved the messenger away and turned his attention to Methyn; who could have sworn he heard a small sigh of relief from his guide as he past.

“Your Highness,” Methyn bowed low to the ground, “I do apologize for Master Cartaisey’s absence. I am sure you can appreciate that he is not as young as he once was and he does send his regrets.” Methyn could not have known how wrong he was; as his master was sitting quite comfortably in Methyn’s own office raiding his stash of biscuits to feed to the pixies in his shoes. “I too am sorry for wasting your time; I shall gather the children and we shall be on our way first thing in the morning…”

“Children?”

“Yes Your Highness, Master Cartaisey insisted on sending the, ah, reinforcements.” He smiled to himself, in a situation of danger they would probably be about as useful as an empty parachute bag. “He thought the trip would be a useful learning experience.”

“Yes, well I am sure they will learn a lot on your trip to Cotharen.”

“Cotharen? But your Highness, I thought…”

“If I can’t have Cartaisey you shall simply have to do, Melyn.”

“Methyn, Your Highness. Surely there would be someone more suitable for the job?”

“No. We simply must have you. As the second to our most powerful Sorcerer it is imperative.” Methyn had not expected the Queen to speak at all but her sweet voice rang out clear and firm. He was to be going on this trip whether he wanted to or not; and he most certainly did not.

“Your Highness,” he bowed low again, “May I enquire as to why this trip is so important?” The King covered his face with his hands; Methyn was unsure but he believed he heard a small sob escape the King’s lips.

“My husband's only daughter; your Princess and heir to the throne, has been kidnapped. She is being held in Cortharen.” Methyn felt his face turn white. “Do not worry so, we have been in talks with those... fiends, and have negotiated a settlement, we simply need someone of your standing and skill to go and retrieve her. We have assembled a team of the most qualified people; of which you are integral…” The Queen was cut off mid-speech as a young maid came over and whispered something to her; it seemed it was a matter of urgency. “Forgive me, I am needed elsewhere. I shall leave my husband to explain.” She placed her small hand gently on her husbands arm and delicately kissed him on the forehead before following her maid out of the room. She seemed to float elegantly behind the young girl and virtually made no sound as she left. The King had composed himself and was now looking up at Methyn. His eyes were bloodshot, and his voice cracked a little when he spoke;

“W-we have enlisted the help of our top assassin, should the situation become dangerous you shall be in safe hands. She is more than capable.” Methyn tried to overlook the King’s use of the word dangerous and wondered to himself if the King was referring to the woman he thought he was referring to. Surely not. This would be small potatoes for her; though this was the safety of the King’s daughter they were discussing; of course he was going to take no chances. “We have also recruited Alaina Oakley to accompany you; though whether she is of any use remains to be seen. She is not what I expected at all, though I’m sure you can appreciate why we wanted her…” Oakley… Where had he heard that name before. It was an old name, that was for sure. Glakyrian most definitely… no, it couldn’t be?

“The Oakley? Your Highness?” She had vanished years ago: in Acclayne time. She would be Master Cartaisey’s age by now, surely? Maybe older. He’d read about her in books as a small boy. Alaina Oakley; winner of battles and conqueror of kingdoms. Rumour had it that she was also as beautiful as she was brave. Then, one day, she just disappeared. People said that she had finally been beaten; killed and left in an unmarked grave. Others believed that she still lived in Glakyrie somewhere, world weary and tired of fighting. Though there were a few, like himself; more privy to the ins and outs of the magical world, who believed that she had left on a risky mission for the palace. The first Glakyrian to have visited Earth. It was thought that she had been gone years before anyone was successful in returning from Earth; by which point she was an old lady. That it was possible that she had fallen foul of something that no one had anticipated; the ravages of Earthly time. No one had realised that the time lines were out of synch. What had been a few years here could have been decades there. Her body, not coping with the time change well would age beyond her years; she'd be incapable of returning and so remained. Had they found a way to bring her home again? If so he would finally get to meet his hero, if this was not worth the trip to Cortharen then nothing would be.

“Not exactly. Alaina Oakley died some time ago…” The King looked around him as if to make sure no one was listening. There was no one in the large room with them but instinctively Methyn did the same. “…Giving birth to her only child.”

Juney had walked me to my allocated room with the confidence of someone who had visited the palace many times. I had asked her if we were to share but we had been given our own rooms. I may not have found her the best company but I could not deny that I would feel a lot more comfortable having her with me. She must have seen panic on my face as she assured me that she would be in a room just down the hall if I needed anything.

My room was dimly lit and opulent in the extreme. Detailed portraits were hung on the walls; their wooden frames so large and ornate it was a wonder that the walls were able to support them. I assumed that these were faces of previous royals. A good looking bunch, I had to admit. From what I could tell it was the King who was of royal lineage. The woman, whose painting hung at the foot of my bed, had the same long nose and dark eyes as the King, yet she had an impish smile I could not picture on the gloomy King. My bed was a massive, four poster, wooden construction; draped in heavy navy fabric. True to her word the Queen had had someone leave me several changes of clothes on the bottom of the bed. I picked the one I thought that looked most like a nightgown and climbed into the monstrosity. It wasn’t until I lay down and felt the softness of the thick pillows beneath my head that I realised just how tired I was. My mind was filled with the overload of information I had been given this evening, yet sleep called to me like a siren and before I knew it I felt my eyes unable to open. As I let myself drift into sleep I let myself think about my tall stranger. The width of his smile; and the warm touch of his hands on my arms. I thought about Juney’s reaction to him yet there was something in me that refused to be afraid. It was as I let my mind wander that I thought I heard a noise from outside the room. A low tapping sound, like rain on a window or a cat padding across a tiled floor. I thought about my cat at home, and about my dad; wandering where I had vanished to and what had become of me. Upset now, and exhausted I let the comfort of sleep envelop me.