Frost Arch (3 page)

“You’re not leaving.” Helena muttered, still not looking at me.

I was silent for a moment before muttering, “Eventually.”

“It’s dangerous out there Avalon.” My father had jumped to his feet again, slamming his hands down onto the table, making everyone jump. I watched as the wood smoked under his fingertips.

“I can look after myself.” I said defensively, “If anything you should worry about me hurting other people.” As I said those words I felt the glow of fire emanating from my mouth and lighting up the room. If I got any angrier I was sure molten lava would end up spilling from my eyes like tears.

He cursed under his breath and looked away. He knew I was right. I was perfectly capable of looking after myself.

“Kenneth.” My mother placed her hand over my father’s, oblivious to the heat radiating from him. She then turned to face me, “This discussion is over.”

I gaped at them angrily but decided arguing would not help my cause at all.

My father however, had not finished arguing this matter with me. He opened his mouth to speak, yet I saw my mother’s hand grip his tightly. It was obvious that she was indicating to him that it was the end of this subject.

I ate my meal slowly, savouring the taste. Helena didn’t talk at all, nor did she touch her food. My father was still sulking, though he ate without a fuss. When my bowl was empty, I heaved a sigh and I stood up from my chair. My family ignored me. They were mad.

Guilt rippled through me. If I left I was ripping a gaping hole into every one of their hearts. I watched them all, focusing on little characteristics that I didn’t want to forget about each of them. My sister was a tiny thing for her age, with wispy black hair. She was very frail looking. I tried to remember the way her smile reached her eyes. My mother was tiny also with a soft voice like velvet. Her thick chocolate hair was always pulled back into a messy bun, with tendrils falling around her face as she bustled around doing her daily things. My father wasn’t a tall or strong man, but he was very smart. Although he got quite easily mad. He often said things that were quite out of character for him, such as; ‘whoopsy daisy’ or ‘corking’. His mop of receding black hair was usually a mess.

I was a rather equal mix of both my parents. I had thick, wavy, black hair. I was short, slender, yet curved. Unfortunately I had acquired my mother’s ghostly pale complexion, as well my father’s dark circles around his eyes. It looked as though we had not slept for weeks. Though a trait only I seemed to have was a scattering of light freckles across my nose and cheeks. I hated them, but my mother said they were adorable. Mothers are supposed to say things like that.

I walked into the hallway and picked up my rucksack. Helena glared as she saw that I was ready to leave them so abruptly. I dropped it and kicked my bag all the way down the hall and back into my room where I shut the door and sat on the edge of my bed. I don’t know how long I sat there for, but darkness was gathering around me, and after a while I couldn’t see anything in my room anymore. My parents had left me to my thoughts, and I had sat there so long that night had fallen.

I hated what I was thinking, but it really was the only way. I waited until I heard my family go to bed. They did not bid me goodnight, as usual. For this I was grateful, it would be easier this way.

I waited at least another three hours, ensuring that my family were indeed asleep. Creeping from my bedroom I tiptoed down the hall towards Helena’s room. I slid in through the door and went beside her bed. She was sleeping rather deeply, her mouth lolling open. I felt guilty about what I was doing to do, but I knew in my heart it was the right thing. I bent down and kissed Helena lightly on the forehead. She stirred but did not wake. I crept silently from her room again, heading for my own when a floorboard behind me creaked. I spun around and Helena was standing in her doorway.

“Avalon?” She said confused. Her eyes were slits; red and puffy from sleep.

“It’s okay. I was just checking on you, go back to bed.”

“Why are you dressed still?” She muttered rubbing her eyes.

“I’m not. Go to bed.” I hissed, worried that my parents would wake, “You’re just dreaming.”

Helena looked slightly confused, but nevertheless she turned and went back into her bedroom. I sighed, slid through my door, heaved my rucksack over my shoulder, and prised my window open soundlessly. The Hawthorne tree outside my window swayed a little in the breeze, causing a rustling that made me pause for a second before I realised what had made the noise. I had always liked that tree, growing right next to my window. It got bigger every year. I had watched it grow. With one last glance at my room, I launched myself from my window. The gravel below was only a few feet away, but it made an obvious crunching noise as I landed. Cursing at myself I crept away into the night.

It took only ten minutes for me to walk into the heart of Mortlock. It was very late now and the candle light from the surrounding cottages could no longer be seen in the windows. I was determined to follow the road that would lead me out of Mortlock, and to the nearest city. I would stop in towns and villages on the way to eat and rest, I decided.

As I passed the town square and came to a street full of larger homes than my own, a rather wonderful sight met my eyes. A man was tethering horses to a large, black, and closed over carriage. It looked old and worn from over-use.

The man seemed to hear my footsteps, for he looked over his shoulder as I approached. I recognised him at once as an acquaintance of my father’s. Jefferson I believed his name was.

“Well, well, if it isn’t little Avalon Redding.” The old man said in amusement.

I smiled and stopped a meter short of the man, “Jefferson.” I gave a nod and a polite smile.

“What are you doing out so late? It’s not often I see you out of your hiding hole.” Jefferson nodded in my direction. The smile on his old face was far too obvious. Everyone knew why I stayed away from town, and they should be damn well grateful for it.

“Where are you going?” I ignored his question. I knew Jefferson was in the delivery business and constantly on the move, but he came back to Mortlock every week or so for a few nights before heading off again.

Jefferson tightened the reins attached to his horses before replying, “First stop is Frost Arch. Very important delivery to make there. Then off to other little towns.”

I had heard the key word.

“Room in there for one more?” I pointed towards the carriage.

“Eh?” Jefferson stopped his fiddling and looked at me curiously. I don’t know wether he could see the fear etched across my face. I had never done anything this daring before.

“I was wondering if I could ask a favour of you Jefferson.” I chose my words carefully and attempted to plaster a hopeful smile upon my face.

Jefferson took a step closer; his horses snorted impatiently and began chewing on the grass.

“I need a ride, and by the looks of it you were just about to be on your way. Would it be too much trouble to tag along?”

Jefferson’s face fell and he eyed me up and down. I could tell what he was thinking.

“Where do you want to go?” He asked sceptically.

“Frost Arch is fine.”

“Is that so? I, er, well I don’t see why not.” He stumbled over his words, “Are you, uh … safe?” He asked. I felt like kicking the old codger in the shins. It made me angry that he would even ask a question like that.

I tapped my foot impatiently “You need not worry about your carriage suddenly igniting and losing your cargo.” I confirmed though I didn’t know how true that statement was.

Jefferson nodded though he didn’t look too thrilled about the idea of an eighteen year old Fire Mage being confined in a wooden carriage for many hours.

“So you’ll help me then?” I prompted.

“What about your parents?” He said looking around as though expecting the darkness to reveal them.

“They know where I’m going.” This was true of course, though they didn’t know that I was leaving at this precise moment.

Jefferson looked me up and down one more time.

“I don’t know Red. If I find out you’ve done a runner I don’t want to get the blame-”

“Irrelevant.” I cut Jefferson off, “I am of age, which means I can do as I please.”

The old man chewed his bottom lip for several seconds, thinking the matter over.

After a few more seconds it seemed he had deemed me worthy to ride with him and gave a shrug and a nod, “Yes, yes. All right. I’ll let you know now though kiddo, I ain’t feeding you. You’ll have to make do for yourself.”

I nodded abruptly, “No problem, I’ve packed some food.” I patted my rucksack.

“I’ll be staying in Frost Arch for only a few hours. Business trip you see and I don’t like to linger there. Not really my favourite place … then I’ll be on my way to the next town over before coming back home. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to give you a ride back-”

“Not necessary.” I chimed in, and Jefferson looked at me confused, “I won’t be coming back.”

“You won’t be coming b-” Jefferson looked bewildered.

“No. I’ll be staying in the city for a while.” I said positively, “On my own.”

“Oh, right. Well I guess there’s no need to worry about getting you back to Mortlock by a certain time then.” Jefferson said quietly to himself. I could see the clockwork in his head ticking rapidly, trying to figure out what was going on. No doubt wild rumours would spread the moment he could gossip about it. Poor, small town folk, I thought to myself. Maybe things will be more open-minded in the city.

I gave Jefferson a polite smile, though I was silently weeping on the inside.

“When will we leave?” I inquired of him.

“Well if you’re all ready to leave now we can depart immediately.” Jefferson said turning back to his horses to check the reigns. “Feel free to hop in the carriage. Don’t mind the smell, or the noises coming from the box on the seat.” He added.

“Thanks.” I said making my way to the carriage.

My heart was pounding wildly in my chest. This was it. I felt my eyes begin to mist up immediately and I tried to hold it back. I couldn’t let Jefferson see me lose control or he would never let me onto his carriage. I clambered inside just as my eyes began brimming with hot molten tears that were threatening to slide down my cheeks at the very thought of not seeing my family again. I wiped at my eyes furiously, sniffing back the offending lava before Jefferson saw. I took a deep calming breath laid my head back, trying not to think.

It was a little cramped inside. Several crates were on the floor and covered half the seat. It smelled of hay and horse hair. I looked out of the window and saw Jefferson scramble onto the seat at the front of the carriage, reigns in his hands. I breathed deeply and the carriage began to move.

Within a minute we had rounded a corner and Mortlock was no longer in sight.

I sat alone in the carriage, the gentle swaying and trotting echoing through my body which felt like an empty shell.

Only now did I allow myself to cry properly. Before I could stop them my tears were rushing from my eyes, and I was gasping for air. My tears of liquid fire streamed down my face though of course they did not burn me. However when they dripped from my face and onto my clothes they burnt tiny holes through my clothes. Ignoring this, one thought crossed my mind. I had run away without any goodbyes.

I had cried for at least an hour. My eyes were red, puffy, and stinging, not to mention my coat was severely damaged now. My body felt weak, and I decided that I should probably eat some of my rations before trying to get some sleep.

I grabbed a lump of bread and some cold chicken wings, tearing away small pierces and popping them into my mouth. I looked at my reflection in the glass window. Huge bags were under my eyes and it looked as though I hadn’t slept for days. I turned away from my reflection and continued to eat the hard lump of bread and the now hot chicken.

A loud, shrill yelp made me jump violently in my seat. I looked around bewildered wondering where the sound had come from. I realised after a few moments that the noise had come from one of the wooden crates that I was sharing the seat with. The crate was now producing a soft scuttling noise. I looked more closely at it and found that the crate contained air holes in one of the sides. I squinted at one of the dark holes and jumped once again when a little black nose belonging to some kind of furry animal appeared there. It sniffed at the air outside of the box before yelping impatiently again.

I looked down at the chicken wings in my hand. The smell had obviously stirred whatever had been sleeping in the box.

I broke away some of the white meat and held it close to the hole. The nose appeared again, this time sniffing enthusiastically.

I poked the food through the hole quickly, not wanting whatever it was to try and bite at my finger. I heard scuffling, and then the box was quiet for a few minutes. I smiled to myself. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was that I was feeding; though I was sure some chicken wouldn’t hurt it. Jefferson wouldn’t mind, would he?

I sighed and continued eating my bread, popping chicken into the crate every now and then.