Heart of the Hill (15 page)
Owen groaned as Holly disappeared into the cleft. “Stupid move, Holly. How the heck am I supposed to observe you now?”
He waited for a few moments, peering down from the rocky crag. Neither Holly nor the two cloaked women reappeared. Cussing under his breath, he began to scramble down the treacherous slope. He paused. “Hey, this is a dream, I can fly.” He stretched out his arms and half jumped, half flew to the ground and peered into the cleft.
A low murmur of voices floated out, but no footsteps seemed to be coming his way. He slipped inside.
It was dank and miserable in the narrow crack between the rocks, almost as cold as outside. Owen was baffled. What on earth had made Holly follow the women? Suddenly the smell of roast chicken hit his nose, and he understood. Following the smell, he edged along the wall until he came to a large cavern.
The cavern was full of light and heat. Holly sat in a velvet chair and warmed her hands at a roaring fire that curled up a natural chimney in the cavern wall. She watched as the two women divested themselves of their cloaks. The women were beautiful, neither young nor old, but both with an ageless beauty, one fair and one dark. Holly stared and tried to smooth her tangled curls.
Vivienne noticed and laughed.
“You are a windswept waif, aren't you?”
Holly's hand dropped. She shrank back into the chair as though she'd been slapped.
In the middle of the cavern stood a gigantic oak table covered with dishes. A sizzling chicken waited to be carved flanked by a platter of roast potatoes, a dish of peas and a jug of gravy. Farther down the table an apple pie waited.
Everything smelt delicious. Holly licked her lips.
Owen peered into the cavern from behind a large rock. He frowned as he watched Holly warm herself at the fire. Something was wrong. The scene he was observing was hazy. The edges of the furniture were fuzzy, shimmering like a mirage. He also noticed a weird tension between the two women. He watched. They exchanged glances and looked at the food over and over, staring intently at Holly when she wasn't looking. They were waiting for something to happen.
Owen tensed. What if something was wrong with the food? What if it was poisoned? But why would these women want to poison Holly? He prepared to warn her with a blast of mindspeak, but stopped himself just in time. If he used mindspeak these magical women might sense it. He mouthed a warning, desperately trying to project it toward his sister. “Watch it, Holly.”
Holly was oblivious.
“You may eat,” said Vivienne, settling into a chair at the table. She motioned Holly to sit beside her and carved a slice of fragrant chicken. She placed it on Holly's plate.
Zorianna glided to the place set on Holly's other side and offered her the platter of potatoes.
Holly piled her plate. The smells filled her nostrils, and the warmth relaxed her body. She sighed with pleasure and leaned back to enjoy the moment.
“What are you waiting for?” hissed Zorianna. “Eat.”
Holly prickled with awareness. Why was it so important to this person that she should eat? A memory stirred at the back of her mind. Something she had heard or read as a young girl about eating with fairies. To eat with them placed you under their power, that was it, and you could never leave their realm.
Holly stared first at Zorianna then at Vivienne. Were they fairies? She didn't think so, but they were magical beings of some sort. Maybe the same thing applied.
A tiny flare of steam from the chicken made her nostrils quiver. The food smelled so good that her stomach rumbled in response. But what if it was wrong to eat it?
How could she find out?
Holly picked up the golden knife and fork and cut a corner off the chicken slice.
Zorianna leaned forward. Her eyes followed the fork toward Holly's mouth.
Holly stopped the fork in midair. “Why are you watching me?” she demanded. “Why do you care if I eat or not?”
She replaced the fork on her plate and folded her arms.
Zorianna hissed and opened her mouth to speak, but once again Vivienne forestalled her.
“You look so tired and cold, child. We wish you well. Food will revive you, give you energy for the tasks ahead.”
“What tasks?” said Holly.
“You wished for something deep in your heart,” said Vivienne. “That is why you are here.”
“In
my
dream cave,” interjected Zorianna, looking with dislike at Vivienne.
Vivienne ignored her. “You wished you were the chosen one, child. The one on a quest, the one with power.” She lifted her arms in delight. “Well ⦠you shall be! I can make it so.”
“What do you mean?” hedged Holly.
“Do as I say, and you shall have more power than you have ever dreamed of. The power to make dreams come true, to give people their hearts' desires.” Vivienne threw her head back and ran her fingers through her long golden curls. “You'd have the power to be anything you wished, to fulfill your desires.” She stared into Holly's eyes. “You would be beautiful. Would you not like to grow up as beautiful as we are?”
“Er ⦠yes, I suppose I would,” admitted Holly.
Vivienne and Zorianna exchanged sparkling smiles, and each laid a finger on Holly's shoulder.
Holly looked down in amazement as her bandage vanished, her arm healed and her pj's transformed into a silk dress. She raised a hand and felt her hair settle into soft waves that floated around her face.
In her mind's eye she saw herself drifting into the school dance looking sophisticated and beautiful, like the girl in the upper sixth she most admired. A smile flickered on her lips. She lifted her fork toward her mouth.
A look of glee crossed Zorianna's face.
Holly glimpsed the fleeting expression, and the spell broke. She peered at the food on her fork, then dropped it. “What's wrong with the chicken?” she demanded and stood up, pushing her plate away.
“Insolent child,” hissed Zorianna. “Is this how you repay kindness?”
“What kindness?” snapped Holly. “I didn't ask to come here; you made me. You're trying to make me eat too. Well, I'm not going to.” Holly flounced away from the table and folded her arms. “You're trying to trick me. Who are you? What do you want?”
“Why would we want anything from you?” sneered Zorianna. “You are nothing but a child.”
Holly shoulders slumped, her hair sprang into its normal tangles and she was back in her pj's. She felt six years old.
Zorianna laughed cruelly.
Holly's eyes watered. Then pride took over. She lifted her chin.
Owen watched. Holly was trembling. A red patch glowed on each cheek, and her eyes glittered. She's feverish again and scared, he thought. She's always scared when she folds her arms and juts out her chin.
Oh, Myrddin,
what should I do? Is it time to help her?
In the cavern, Vivienne shouted with frustration. “See what you have done, Zorianna? You may be powerful, but you know nothing of humans. The child will never take part willingly now. Humans have to feel they have free choice, that they can choose their destiny.”
Zorianna laughed. “Humans think they can choose? You jest, Vivienne. Make them do your bidding!” She lifted her arm and shot a blue flare toward Holly.
“You wish for choice, child? Here is your choice: Do our bidding, or stay imprisoned within the nightmares of your own mind.” She swept out of the dream cave with Vivienne running to catch up.
The blue light pulsed over Holly's head, then surrounded her. Her pj's became rags, her hair hung in greasy clumps, the skin on her arm bloated and puffed, the knife cut oozed and the infection spread to her fingers.
Holly looked down at her hand and arm with horror.
The blue light spread outward in ripples. The ripples flowed through the cave, consuming everything in their path, the table, food, the furniture and fire, leaving in their wake an eerie light and a strange scene of horror.
Now the cavern walls were full of rotting skeletons sliding from the rocks. Their bony fingers seemed to point at Holly.
Holly stared down at her own rotting hand. A piece of flesh peeled off and dropped to the cave floor, revealing the bone. She swayed and closed her eyes.
“No ⦠no. Help,” she moaned. Cold sweat beaded her forehead. She trembled and covered her face. A harsh sob was wrenched from her throat.
