but Ernest shushed her excitedly. Another image was forming in the pot.
The children now saw a vast field of sunflowers turning their heads to the sun and waving in the breeze. The sight was so calming that Milli and Ernest sighed with relief and almost felt the weight of the past few days lift from their minds. But a shadow was creeping across the field, a black and angry mass of clouds like bruises on the sky, and soon the entire expanse was in shade. All at once the sunflowers burst into flame. A fire swept through the field with devastating speed, consuming everything in itspath and leaving only mounds of ashes in its wake.
The vision shocked the children but they had no choice other than to watch with mounting trepidation as a final image began to take shape.
This time it was of a narrow room with a low ceiling. Something told them it must be the apex of the jade citadel as a small window looked directly onto a sliver of sky. The room had the coldness of a crypt as everything was made of polished black stone. The walls were covered with swirling inscriptions in an ancient tongue that Ernest thought might be Latin, although he couldn’t make out enough of the letters to be absolutely sure. There was no furniture, only a stone font like the ones used in christening ceremonies. A figure was bent over it. He had his back to them so they could not see his face but he wore crimson robes that spilled onto the floor like a wine stain. His hands and neck were startlingly white in the dimly lit surroundings. His milky blue hair was twisted into dozens of tiny braids, each one fastened with a silver bell and pulled away from his head. His skin wascrinkly like tissue paper after you have eagerly unwrapped a present, and equally translucent.
When the man turned from his work and drifted across the room, the children jumped back in alarm. They had caught a glimpse of his eyes—distinctive eyes that even in the watery image before them did not stop shifting colour. The face of Lord Aldor seemed to be moving towards them. The veins in his forehead throbbed with the effort of concentration and the sharpness of his features reminded them of a locust.
The broth began to give off the cloying odour of decomposition such as one might smell on a forest floor, and the scene shifted to show Lord Aldor glaring at Federico Lampo who was kneeling on the stone floor beside him.
‘Everything is progressing as Your Lordship planned,’ Lampo said in an obvious state of agitation.
Lord Aldor arched a thin eyebrow. ‘And the brats?’
‘Shaping up into fine young warriors,’ Lampo bragged.
A depraved smile crept over Lord Aldor’sface. His eyes were as bright as candles and he licked his lips.
‘Victory is within reach. We must prepare.’
The image faded and Milli and Ernest reeled backwards and collapsed into chairs to recover. The sight of Lord Aldor, the villain who haunted their dreams to that day, brought back a rush of memories so chilling it was like diving into an ice-cold lake. Milli recalled the tiny body of a singed hedgehog lying on a gravel path. She saw the shadow of her father about to disappear into the hollow, gaping pit that was Lord Aldor’s mouth. She remembered her mother a prisoner in rags and chains, labouring to the point of exhaustion.
Ernest’s memories turned to the tormented flamingo and Nettle, her eyes rolling back in her head and her body going limp as Lord Aldor towered over her. Visions of Christmas beetles run through with wire and writhing larvae danced through his head.
Both children had trouble catching their breath and gripped one other for support. The cold-blooded criminal who had caused somuch misery was but a short distance away! For weeks after their last escape from Aldor, the children had felt yoked by his presence wherever they went. The feeling had faded slowly as their parents and teachers ensured their time was taken up with more convivial activities. How could they not have sensed
The children now saw a vast field of sunflowers turning their heads to the sun and waving in the breeze. The sight was so calming that Milli and Ernest sighed with relief and almost felt the weight of the past few days lift from their minds. But a shadow was creeping across the field, a black and angry mass of clouds like bruises on the sky, and soon the entire expanse was in shade. All at once the sunflowers burst into flame. A fire swept through the field with devastating speed, consuming everything in itspath and leaving only mounds of ashes in its wake.
The vision shocked the children but they had no choice other than to watch with mounting trepidation as a final image began to take shape.
This time it was of a narrow room with a low ceiling. Something told them it must be the apex of the jade citadel as a small window looked directly onto a sliver of sky. The room had the coldness of a crypt as everything was made of polished black stone. The walls were covered with swirling inscriptions in an ancient tongue that Ernest thought might be Latin, although he couldn’t make out enough of the letters to be absolutely sure. There was no furniture, only a stone font like the ones used in christening ceremonies. A figure was bent over it. He had his back to them so they could not see his face but he wore crimson robes that spilled onto the floor like a wine stain. His hands and neck were startlingly white in the dimly lit surroundings. His milky blue hair was twisted into dozens of tiny braids, each one fastened with a silver bell and pulled away from his head. His skin wascrinkly like tissue paper after you have eagerly unwrapped a present, and equally translucent.
When the man turned from his work and drifted across the room, the children jumped back in alarm. They had caught a glimpse of his eyes—distinctive eyes that even in the watery image before them did not stop shifting colour. The face of Lord Aldor seemed to be moving towards them. The veins in his forehead throbbed with the effort of concentration and the sharpness of his features reminded them of a locust.
The broth began to give off the cloying odour of decomposition such as one might smell on a forest floor, and the scene shifted to show Lord Aldor glaring at Federico Lampo who was kneeling on the stone floor beside him.
‘Everything is progressing as Your Lordship planned,’ Lampo said in an obvious state of agitation.
Lord Aldor arched a thin eyebrow. ‘And the brats?’
‘Shaping up into fine young warriors,’ Lampo bragged.
A depraved smile crept over Lord Aldor’sface. His eyes were as bright as candles and he licked his lips.
‘Victory is within reach. We must prepare.’
The image faded and Milli and Ernest reeled backwards and collapsed into chairs to recover. The sight of Lord Aldor, the villain who haunted their dreams to that day, brought back a rush of memories so chilling it was like diving into an ice-cold lake. Milli recalled the tiny body of a singed hedgehog lying on a gravel path. She saw the shadow of her father about to disappear into the hollow, gaping pit that was Lord Aldor’s mouth. She remembered her mother a prisoner in rags and chains, labouring to the point of exhaustion.
Ernest’s memories turned to the tormented flamingo and Nettle, her eyes rolling back in her head and her body going limp as Lord Aldor towered over her. Visions of Christmas beetles run through with wire and writhing larvae danced through his head.
Both children had trouble catching their breath and gripped one other for support. The cold-blooded criminal who had caused somuch misery was but a short distance away! For weeks after their last escape from Aldor, the children had felt yoked by his presence wherever they went. The feeling had faded slowly as their parents and teachers ensured their time was taken up with more convivial activities. How could they not have sensed
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