The Kingdom of Night (Book 3)

Twenty-Two - Hope is the Thing...

Alice

He is pushing me. On the swing out in the back garden. I can hear my own voice and I know I am once again a child, urging him to push me higher. My skirts flutter like a butterfly's wings as he does, his strong hands supporting me for only a moment before they push against me, firmly as the swing moves but not so hard that I slide off the front.

     'Higher, Papa, higher!' I see one of my shoe buckles has come loose, and will soon go flying.

     'Not too high, my darling. We could not have you falling to the ground and cracking your head.'

     I see my mother, sitting on the terrace a short distance away, with her hand on the swell of my unborn sister. She seems strained, even worried. 'Henry, you mustn't be so morbid. She is only a child.'

     'They must be taught early, Charlotte.' Papa's voice is stern, his hands strong. But I know he will always be there to catch me.

     'Henry,' Mum sighs, rubbing her swollen belly and shaking her head. 'Honestly...'

     Then, all at once, the scene shifts. When the swing returns to Papa, he is gone. Instead hands catch the board and yank it out from under me, leaving me dangling from the ropes. A familiar pair of green eyes appear, followed by a voice that turns the pleasant dream into a nightmare.

     'Your father is mine,' he sneers. 'And soon, you will be too.'

     Then I am falling through empty air, screaming all the way down. Someone catches my hand and hauls me over a ledge. When I look up, I see Papa, streaked with dirt, blood, ash, and dressed in nothing but a pair of ragged trousers. His eyes are empty, holding no recognition.

     'Papa!' I hear myself screaming, but he remains the same, unmoving. 'Papa!'

     'I'm sorry, my darling,' he says, raising the glowing knife, the same one I'd seen Wittenberg holding. Once again it comes arcing through the air towards me. The scream that echoes through my ears is the last thing I hear before everything sinks into darkness.

     I woke up in a cold sweat, breathing hard, fast, and ragged. My nightgown was sticking to me, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears. That was the second time I'd had that dream in a week, and the third time I'd seen that glowing knife. I still hadn't a clue what it was, or what it did. In fact, the only thing I knew for sure was that Wittenberg had it.

     I rolled over on my side, clutching at my head and digging my fingers into my hair. A faint pulse was tapping at the base of my skull, and increased when I attempted to hold on to the details of my dream. My father, wielding a knife...Wittenberg, claiming him for himself and coming for me soon... 

     I pushed myself up, striking a match and lighting the candle next to my bed. A bit old-fashioned, in my opinion, but it wasn't worth waking everyone else up to scrabble around for a torch. After I'd pulled on my dressing gown and cinched the belt tightly around me, I took the candle, shielding it with my hand as I hurried out. I didn't want to wake Colin, but he was the first Elemental I'd met in months. Maybe he could help me through these prophetic dreams, if that was truly what they were.

     He was at the bottom of the hill, billeted in the groundskeeper's house. The wind blew my candle out halfway there, and I grumbled a curse as I kept going, towards the low-slung building. I tripped over a stone in my path and stubbed my toe, a curse automatically escaping me when pain shot up my leg.

     I knocked on the door, and it took two tries before I heard a thump and muttering before a candle flame jumped up. It moved towards the door, and then he appeared, shirtless and barefoot. Immediately I felt a hot blush spill up into my cheeks. I had never seen a man in that state of dress, unless his torso was covered with bandages.