The Girls from Downstairs

Nine: a view from home

The queen led me back into the room we’d been in before, but this time the atmosphere was completely different.  The king was laughing with Adrian and Jinx, rocking back and forth on his throne.  He spotted us and laughed.

“There they are!  Welcome back, ladies!  Glad to have you!”  He was now beaming ear to droopy ear.

“I see you and Adrian worked things out?” the queen asked.

Her king answered with a chuckle.  “Our son has very good reasons behind his motives.”

“Ah.  I see.”  The queen placed a gentle arm around my shoulders.  “I have promised something to Esmerelda.  If you’ll excuse us, we’ll be in my bedroom.”

“Of course.”

She led me to through a door to her personal chamber.  It was decked out in pictures of griffin’s and just about every animal known to mankind was sewn into fabric that lined the walls.  She saw my expression and laughed.

“It can be very boring to live forever.  Snow White has to find many ways to pass the time,” she explained.

I nodded.  “I’m sure...”

“Come, over here.”

I sat next to what appeared to be a small table.  She pulled off the cloth on top, revealing a glass... well, table.  Holding it up were four legs; two dragons, two troll.  Or so the queen told me.  All four were green, but the dragon had scales, while the troll’s were just hard and leathery. 

“Dragons hold some of the most powerful, ancient magic, while the trolls provide us with strength enough to not come under harm’s way while accessing this magic.”  She smiled at me across the... table.  “Yes, this is magic.  To be able to view Reality takes special power.  This was my gift when I began to court with Garfield in the other room.”

I snorted.  The queen frowned.  “Sorry.”

“I understand that may be a funny name to you, and in Reality it’s even the name of a fat cat comic.”  I refused to meet her stern gaze.  “In Somnoria you will find it to be a very common name.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your name?”

She seemed surprised.  “Have I not told you?  I’m terribly sorry.  I am Queen Nyah Asher.”

“Beautiful name.”

She cleared her throat.  “Shall we continue?”

“Yes, please!”

She opened her right palm over the center of the glass.  It began to cloud up until eventually, it revealed a sunny day.  “Speak the name of your town and do your best to picture where your friend might be.”

“Fernbank.” 

I thought with all my heart of Mack’s room.  Her poster-lined walls of her favorite bands, the messy floor, her even messier bed and desk. 

“Open.”

On the table was exactly what I was picturing.  Lying across her bed was Mackenzie, with a piece of paper clutched in her hands.  Brock was beside her, rubbing her back.  Both had tears running down their cheeks.  Mackenzie, I noticed, had bandages wrapped around her wrists.

“What does the paper say?” I asked.

It was our school newspaper.  Someone had written a story about how I had disappeared in the middle of the night with a trucker because I knew I was a waste to society.  In a paper Brock now held up to read it showed an old picture of me, with the word MISSING written across the top.  Below it gave a description and they suspected someone had kidnapped me while walking on my way to school.