Worlds Unseen by Rachel Starr Thomson (best classic novels TXT) 📕

The sadness in his voice tore at Virginia’s heart, and all she could say was, “I’m so sorry.”

“So am I,” he said, smiling again. “But you, and a few others, will wake the world to me. Yes, your heart is a kingdom, and I am king in it. Be ready, for I will come soon.”

“Can I not go with you now?” Virginia asked, for he had begun to move away from her.

“No,” he said. “You will come to me some day, but not for a time. Can you be courageous, little one?”

“Yes,” she said.

“My enemies hunt you, and you must face them,” he said. “Do not forget who I am. And do not forget who you are, no matter what happens. This day I have called you mine.”

Far away, Virginia thought she heard the baying of a hunting hound. For the first time since she had first seen the shadow creature in her visions, she felt no fear at its coming. He looked toward the sound, and his face was solemn.

“Remember me,” he said, “and through you I will wake the world.”

He let go of her hand and stepped back down the path. Behind him a circle of light flared into being. He faded away into it. In the next instant, Virginia’s sight was gone.

The loss of his presence left an echo in her of such deep longing that she fell to her knees on the path and wept.

*

Roland fell against the oak door. He pounded on it with all the strength he had left, panting for breath. His knees buckled under him when the door swung open, revealing the housekeeper’s stern face.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Please,” the boy gasped. “I need to see the laird. It’s about Virginia Ramsey.”

“What about her?” said a deep voice from the shadows behind the housekeeper.

Lord Robert stepped up to the door. Roland started to answer, but his words trailed into nothing as the world spun around him. The laird knelt down beside the boy and lifted him up, brushing blond hair back from the child’s face.

“Come now, boy. What do you have to tell me?” he asked.

Roland drew a deep breath of air. “They’re going to take her away,” he said, leaning heavily on Lord Robert’s shoulder.

“Who? Who is?” Lord Robert asked.

“The police,” Roland gasped out.

“Village police?” The laird’s face was a knot of frowns.

“No, no,” Roland said. “High Police.”

Lord Robert stood and handed Roland over to his housekeeper.

“Get him something to drink,” the laird commanded. “I believe he’s run the whole six miles from the village.”

With Roland safely in the housekeeper’s care, Lord Robert dashed out the door in the direction of Virginia’s mountainside.

*

Virginia heard them coming even before the deerhound began to growl. The breath of a shadow hound echoed in their footsteps. The deerhound tensed and she rubbed his neck soothingly.

“Hush,” she said. “Lay still.”

The footsteps came closer. The deerhound sprang to his feet, ignoring Virginia’s entreaties to lay down. The dog’s deep-throated growl rose to a crescendo, and he sprang toward the intruders.

Virginia heard the sound of cursing and the metallic whir of a sword being drawn. The hound’s bark ended abruptly in a long whine. Suddenly the men were all around her. The flat edge of a knife pressed underneath Virginia’s chin, forcing her face upward as someone wrenched her arms behind her. She felt a man’s breath on her face as shackles closed around her wrists.

“Blind as a bat, just like they said,” said the man in front of her. His voice became low and taunting.

“We’re going to take you away, girl. They want to see you, and they don’t never let anyone go home again. What do you think of that, eh?”

Virginia said nothing. The knife was pulled away, allowing her head to drop into a bowed position.

“Aw,” said one of the men. “She didn’t answer. Maybe she’s deaf, too.”

They laughed. Rough hands grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. The heavy iron shackles rubbed painfully against her wrists, and she stumbled as the men propelled her forward. The path, usually so familiar, seemed strange to her feet.

They were still talking, joking with each other, but their voices were only an incoherent noise in Virginia’s ears. She thought she heard the deerhound whine nearby, and her thoughts reached out toward him, longing to go and bury her face in his wiry fur. Had they killed him, she wondered-was it only her imagination that heard him whining for help? If he was not dead, he was badly hurt, or he would have been at the men long before. Desperation welled up inside of her, and she moved against the grip of her captors, as though she would tear her hands free from the shackles and run for the cover of the hills. And her old hound, her most faithful and understanding companion, would rise to its feet and run like the wind at her side.

“Look,” one of the men said suddenly, “Tears. There’s a person in there after all!”

Someone grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, making her clench her teeth against the pain. He stood close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, and shouted into her face, “Are you afraid, girl? Are you afraid?”

She made no reply. He let go of her, shoving her head forward with such strength that she fell to the ground.

“Get her up, and let’s get out of here,” said the man. “Looks like a storm’s brewing.”

The hands were back at her arms again, making the iron bite into her wrists. Before she was steadily back on her feet, a familiar voice rang out over the mountainside.

Lord Robert.

He shouted again, a wordless, raging sound. The hands let go of Virginia and she sank down on the path, her heart beating painfully. Her protector had come. She whispered a prayer for his safety-to the one whose words still echoed in her heart. “Remember me.”

The sounds of a fight broke out. Metal clashed against metal; bone against bone; and suddenly all was silent.

In a moment the laird touched her shoulder with a hand shaking with adrenaline.

“Are you all right?” the laird asked. His voice was shaking like his hand. Virginia started to nod, and instead found herself being lifted in strong arms.

“I’m going to keep you safe,” he said. “But you’ll have to come away with me.”

In answer she nodded, and then turned her face into his chest and let him carry her away.

*

The Galcic forests were deep and golden with the colours of fall. As time passed, Maggie found herself overwhelmed by the abundant presence of tree, rock, stream, and leaf; each one so much like the others, and yet uniquely its own, and all occupying one vast, peaceful world. In this place where insects lived for a brilliant day and trees stood guard for centuries, time ceased to hold much meaning. The solitude of the forest bore down on her, now like a weight, now like a song. At times she wished for nothing more than to see a town, and the next moment she hoped that she might become endlessly lost in the woods, never to see another human settlement with its noise and confusion again.

If it wasn’t for Nicolas, she was sure, she would be lost. There were moments when she was quite certain the path led in one direction, but Nicolas and Bear would confidently head in another. When she could see no path at all, they did not slow their steps. Boy and beast seemed equally a part of the forest.

They had been in the forest for three days. Maggie’s shoes were beginning to give way under the constant friction of roots and ruts and pebbles. Her whole body ached from walking. Nicolas, his feet bare, did not seem to notice any strain. He walked until he grew tired, and then they would stop and rest in the cool shade of the trees. Nicolas would curl up and sleep soundly, and Maggie soon learned to sleep when he did. If she did not, the chance would be lost. Even at night, they walked.

At first, Maggie was concerned about food. But what Nicolas did not find, Bear did: they ate roots, leaves, nuts, and berries. Nicolas fashioned a spear from a thin branch and caught three fish with it. The scanty fare rarely left Maggie feeling full, but she did not lack for energy.

It was late afternoon, and Nicolas was singing. The song was a nonsensical spinning of melody and words without any meaning. His long branch-spear waved in the air in time to the music, now and then moving quickly enough to whistle in the air and add punctuation to the song.

The path moved steadily downhill. A piece of rock gave way under her foot, and Maggie slipped. She winced at the strain on her sore muscles as she struggled back to her feet.

Nicolas turned at the sound of her fall and ran back to her. He offered his hand, and she gladly took it. She brushed herself off, grimacing as her fingers brushed a tender patch on her leg.

“Oh, that’s going to hurt later,” she said under her breath, envisioning a purple bruise. She let out a breath of air and started to walk forward again, but Nicolas stopped her.

“You look tired, Maggie,” he said. For the first time he seemed to notice the weariness in his companion’s step. His face crumpled into such an expression of worry that Maggie almost laughed at the sight. He gestured downhill.

“There’s a good resting place, just down there,” he said. “Come just a little further. And then you can rest as long and hard as you like.”

Maggie couldn’t help smiling as he clambered down the hill just ahead of her, now and then telling her how good a resting place they were coming to.

It was a good place, indeed. Maggie almost fainted with relief at the thought of curling up on the patch of moss and leaves and sleeping until she wasn’t tired any more. As Bear puttered around nearby, she lowered herself down onto the welcoming carpet and closed her eyes.

She had barely begun to dream when Nicolas’s urgent voice penetrated her sleep. She opened her eyes a crack and squinted at him. He was peering down at her with great excitement, rambling on about something. It took Maggie a minute to adjust her senses to the point where she could actually understand what he was saying.

“Come on, Maggie, we’ve got to go now or we’ll miss them. You can sleep all you want when we get there.”

“That’s what you said about this nap,” Maggie complained, clambering groggily to her feet. “Can’t we stay here a little longer?”

Nicolas was pacing back and forth on the path. “It’s not far, I promise. You won’t regret it.”

Maggie’s head hurt as she followed Nicolas. She realized that she really needed sleep; needed it very badly.

“Where are we going?” Maggie asked, when she had caught up with Nicolas.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he said. “There’s a Gypsy camp ahead.”

Briefly, Maggie wondered how he knew that, as she had seen no sign of human company in the woods. She bit back her questions. The flight from the inn had given her a sort of faith in Nicolas’s instincts-his hearing, or whatever it was he had.

“Tell me,” she said as they walked, “Why do we want to catch up with the Gypsies?”

Nicolas looked at her