SWNOVELS Chapter Chapter Twelve
“Stop pretending to be asleep and have some food.”
Joe lay still, turned away from the voice, and wondered what had given him away. Eyes tight shut, he kept his breathing low, but somehow Maven knew he was awake. Strange hoots and calls came from the dark and a cold breeze chilled his skin. Opening his eyes he found he was wrapped in a thin sleeping bag, pushed up against a dark tree trunk, surrounded by bushes. The heat of the day had gone and he pulled his head deeper into his bed to escape the cold. High above the forest canopy swayed in the wind, stars twinkling in the patches of night between the leaves. A fire crackled and from behind him came the sizzle of cooking food. It smelled like bacon.
Maven was quiet again. If he rolled over to face him he would have to speak and he didn’t know what he was going to say. Kinga described him as Antigol’s most powerful Warlock, a friend to the King, but Joe knew him as Mr Zhang, Cardenfield’s newsagent. He closed his eyes and anger rose in his throat. How many lies had they told him? Was anything about his old life true? His Uncle and Aunt weren’t the quiet, boring couple they pretended to be, their job was to keep Joe safe. But from what? Avarat, a stranger he’d never met? Who was he and why did he want Joe so much? Because of a stupid mark on the back of his hand?
He sank deeper into the sleeping bag, wishing he could pull it over his head and disappear for good. Ever since the Wytches came for him in Cardenfield he’d been running and didn’t even know why.
Even Kinga, his despised cousin, was a trained warrior, sent to protect him. More lies. So far the only person he could trust was Reece, but he would probably turn out to be a long lost prince or a trained assassin. He thought of Reece stumbling around the forest and hanging on to the giant’s leg when they were attacked by its hound master. If Reece was an assassin, he was good at hiding it.
He shivered, remembering the Ice Queen, the army of pig-guards and eerie dolls, and the fatal blast freezing Sam. A hollow ball of misery sank into his stomach. In Cardenfield everyone laughed at the strange, shambling man and he felt guilty remembering the times he joined in; the hurt look on the man’s face, staggering away, muttering his strange words. If only he hadn’t run.
BUT YOU DID RUN, AND NOW HE’S DEAD.
Joe blocked out the voice. Since arriving in Antigol he’d heard it more and more, but he didn’t want to listen to it now. If he’d ignored it before, Sam might still be alive. If he’d given himself to the hound, the rest of them could have escaped. Instead they followed him to the Ice Queen’s palace, determined to save him. Where had Maven been? If he’d arrived a minute sooner Sam would still be with them.
“You have to talk to me Joe.” The voice was right behind him. Joe rolled over, eyes angry, and Maven stood over him, holding out a plate of food.
Their small camp sat in a tiny round break in the trees. Kinga lay on the far side, pressed into the shadows and wrapped in a dark blanket. When the flames of the fire caught the wind, she was briefly illuminated, asleep, though her lips mumbled and her fingers twitched. Small sparks of Majia jumped about her skin. Next to her, wrapped in another blanket, lay Reece, snoring quietly.
Joe sat up and a sudden rush of dizziness made the night spin. It was worse than ever. The Queen tried to poison him; to add him to her horrible museum, but he hadn’t eaten any of her food. Why did he feel so ill? Maven’s hand steadied him,
“Eat, my boy. You’ll feel better for it.” Joe took the plate, glaring. He didn’t recognise the chunks of fried meat or the small, purple vegetables but his stomach took charge of his fingers, not prepared to let another offer of food escape. It was delicious and he gulped it down, Maven watching him silently. Even in the shadows the worry was clear on his face. He loaded Joe’s plate again and took another for himself. They ate in silence.
When finished, Joe put the plate down and pulled his sleeping bag up to his chin.
“Is Sam really gone?” Maven looked down, suddenly miserable, and gave a small nod,
“I’m sorry Joe. He was a good friend.” Joe took a breath, trying to keep calm, but anger rose in him again.
“Where were you?” he said, “why weren’t you there? If it wasn’t for Kinga we’d all be dead.”
“I didn’t know where you were until she used her Majia and the gate took time to focus. I came as quickly as I could.” He looked so miserable that Joe found it hard to stay angry with him.
“I used to see him around the village. Everyone was so horrible to him, but he was only there to protect me wasn’t he.” Maven put his plate on the ground and stood up, stretching and rolling his shoulder.
“Samje was a great Warlock and a close friend of your father’s, his royal counsel before me and a fierce opponent of Avarat. He was the first to volunteer to protect you on Earth.” Joe tried to remember when he had first seen Sam around the village. His Uncle told him Sam worked at the school, before he became ill. No-one knew where he lived or how he survived, but no-one was bothered either. That poor man, they would say, and that would be the end of it, as if he was suddenly invisible, hovering in the background, shouting at himself.
“Was he always so… odd?” Maven smiled, a sadness in his eyes.
“Samje’s whole life was in service of Majia. He found Earth difficult, a world where Majia didn’t exist. Although he tried his best to adjust, the withdrawal was too much, and it drove him mad.” Joe felt a sharp sting of guilt again. Another person willing to sacrifice themselves to keep him safe. Ten years of secrets and lies.
“Why didn’t he come home?” he said.
“Your father begged him to, we all did, but Samje pledged himself to your protection. Nothing we could say would change his mind.” Joe leant back against the tree and closed his eyes. How many more people would die keeping him safe? He clenched his fists to stop himself screaming in frustration. He hadn’t asked for their protection. He hadn’t asked for any of it. When he opened his eyes Maven was standing over him again. He reached inside his coat and pulled out a small, golden envelope.
“I know you must be angry my boy, confused, scared, probably wishing it would all go away. I’m sorry we lied to you, but you must understand, we did it to protect you.” Joe scowled at him. Had they protected him? Didn’t they realise how hard it was to find out your whole life was a lie. Why hadn’t they told him who he was? Couldn’t they have trained him like Kinga and given him a chance to protect himself? Maven held out the envelope.
“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” he said, “I promise to answer as many as I can. But first I must give you this. It is a letter from your father.” Joe took the letter carefully. A sudden whirl of emotions rushed through him. His thumb ran over its wax seal, a red circle stamped with the letter H. He was afraid to open it.
“What about my mother?” he said. Every time they mentioned his parents, they only spoken of the King, as if they didn’t think he would care about the Queen at all. Maven smiled,
“Things are different in Antigol,” he said, “The King speaks for them both.” Joe wondered how the Queen felt about that but he was too curious about the letter to ask any more questions. Maven put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye, “They are alive Joe. That is one truth you can believe in.” Then he returned to sit by the fire. Joe broke the seal and opened the letter.