“Orinthia?”

  There was a haunted tone in the elderly voice that floated across the ballroom floor. I glanced over my shoulder to see that Nicholas Stone was sitting in the corner of the room. He stared at me with an expression of bewilderment. The little red fox had vanished in the blink of an eye.

  “Oh, my dear Alice,” Juniper’s grandfather continued to speak as I walked across the floor. “You look so much like your grandmother.”

  “That is a lovely compliment,” I responded, speaking in the slow rhythm that allowed him to read my lips. “If you don’t mind my asking, where is your violin?”

  The melody of a piano suddenly exploded from the platform that was settled in the center of the ballroom. My eyes focused on the swift fingertips of Cleo Lennox. The tune was dark and foreboding, although it did not diminish the enthusiasm of the dancers.

  A tall man stood beside the girl, analyzing the perfect details of the musical routine. Although a touch of gray was spreading across his pointed beard, the stranger possessed the dark hair of his daughter. Wrinkles had formed with the stern expression that dwelled upon his brow. As waiters hurried across the floor, his loud voice cracked a whip at their heels.

  According to the rumors that circulated the hall, Cleo’s mother had died in childbirth. Before she reached the age of twelve, her father had never participated in her life. The Gifted girl was raised by the housemaids. Her mother’s death had snatched a ray of light from the heart of the Lennox family.

  “The violin is an instrument for the cheerful and wondrous soul,” said Nicholas Stone. A faint light of whimsy hid behind the old man’s spectacles. “My music does not belong in the presence of the Lennox clan.”

  The night seemed to pass with careful footsteps and wavering attention. In the minutes that lingered between the eternal trail of dance and music, I rested my tired legs in the corner of the ballroom. The majority of the guests were gathered at the edge of the floor, waiting for the night to end.

  “Alice,” said Ronan. “I hope your feet have not been bruised by the careless steps of Grayson Fields.”

  “They are just fine,” I responded with a smile. “Nevertheless, I appreciate your concern.”

  “Do not speak with such formality, Alice,” said Ronan. “It doesn’t suit your character.”

  My friend stared at me for a long moment. He did not realize I was beginning to grow uncomfortable beneath his blue gaze. The two puddles of salt water reminded me of the Northern Sea, which kissed the rocky shore in the village of Innis. As I thought about the world that existed in the depths of the ocean, I was reminded of the burn that had faded from my arm.

  “I believe Kade and Emery have acquired a supernatural ability for the art of dance,” I spoke, gesturing to the girls that floated across the room. “They haven’t stopped to catch a breath.”

  “I know you enjoy dancing,” Ronan remarked.

  “Of course,” I responded. “But it is always more enjoyable in the company of kindred spirits.”

  Ronan watched me for a few more minutes; however, my gaze was focused on the dancing crowd. My friend was innocently unaware of the truth his eyes revealed. A spark of understanding was stitched into the emerald pigments of his irises.

  “I have an idea,” said Ronan, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of my chair.

  The chandelier lights suddenly flickered, reminding us that the Lennox family had gained special access to the world of electricity. There was not a single burning lantern in the crowded hall. A bright flame appeared in the palm of my hand as the lights continued to flash in the darkness. I was sure that Cleo was watching our footsteps. The sensation vanished as we joined the circling dance. As the crowd passed the entrance hall, we escaped through the open doorway.

  “I believe freedom has been found,” Ronan spoke with a hint of laughter as we entered the cold air of the night. “The ballroom was quite boring.”

  “The Lennox clan lacks the extraordinary hosting skills of the Stone family,” I responded with a light smile. “Even so, it seems like Cleo is quite fond of you.”

  “Please do not speak about her,” said Ronan. “Cleo Lennox is much too forward with her affections, and I believe she lacks the virtues of kindness and mercy. I must assure you that I have no interest in the wicked girl.”

  Ronan’s eyes were focused on the red flowers that surrounded the entrance of the stone house. His unique Gift began to pull the thorns away from the viridescent stems. The tiny blades floated through the shadowed light of the moon. I reached out and placed a burning ember in the neat pile that was beginning to form beside us. We watched in silence as the rose thorns were consumed in the heat of the orange flames.

  “Will you tell me about what happened in the Four Lone Towers?” Ronan asked. “I have been told it was a personal experience, but I must know the details. There are few people who dare to speak about the troublesome past.”

  “It was a day that changed my life forever,” I responded. “I finally realized my spirit had the power to vanquish the creatures of the Night Oak Forest. After the curse was destroyed, my vision was overcome with a blinding light. There was a moment when I believed my life was destined to fall into the depths of oblivion. The ember girl had vanished from my sight, as the dancing flames became nothing more than an unforgettable memory. Although I was terrified, there was a part of me that understood the importance of my task. The darkness of our world can only be defeated by a great source of light.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Nightmares eventually returned to my restless hours of sleep. The extravagant gala had left my mind in a tired, yet thoughtful state. The visions were always the same, reminding me of the secret messages that were often hidden in the details of my dreams. My mind was tossed between the various realms of my imagination, until I found myself screaming in the face of twisted wonder. My senses were overwhelmed by the elements of color and sound, which surrounded me in a frightful haze. For a few moments, I stood in the presence of my phantom reflection. The vines of the courtyard gate seemed to twist through the air that surrounded us. The dull eyes of the red-haired girl began to transform into the black gaze of Cleo Lennox. As she whispered inaudible words of hate and discouragement, a bright light penetrated through her translucent skin. A part of me did not wish to witness the terrible fate of the Creatures of the Night Oak Forest, as my mind had never been able to recover from that haunting morning. There was something wonderful about the fire that blazed in the center of my tower. Every person had felt the weight that was lifted when the Creatures were finally vanquished from the realm of Aisling. The smiles of the Gifted people had never shone with such radiance.

  The courtyard seemed to vanish with the blink of an eye, as my mind was swiftly transported to the shadowed corner of an ancient cavern. The familiar sound of dripping water sent a terrible shiver down my arms. My gaze drifted across the dark reflections that danced upon the puddled water.

  A pair of piercing blue eyes penetrated through the darkness of the cave. A teenage boy was standing in the place of the illusive child who once pleaded for my help. He carried a sharp stone in his pale hands. A distant thought seemed to escape through his hollow-eyed gaze, transferring to the surface of the gray stone walls.

  The fair-haired boy paused for a moment between each letter he inscribed. The distant sound of footsteps and splashing water was the force that jolted his consciousness into reality. A dark expression settled into the corners of his mouth. The stone began to drag across the wall with careful movements. When the boy decided he was finished with the message, he stepped away from the wall and allowed the stone to fall through his fingers. A deafening echo sounded as the rock tumbled to the puddled floor.

  The Lost Dreamer

  A sharp breath escaped from my lungs. The strange boy turned to look at me with a peculiar expression. Although the sound of footsteps was swiftly approaching, there was not a spark of fear in his diamond eyes. He had grown to be the embodiment of strength and determination, just as I had grown to be courageous.

  “Alice?”

  A distant voice called out in the night, pulling me away from the land of my dreams. There was a part of me that wished to remain in the shadows of the stone cavern. The strange boy did not seem to fear my departure, but I knew he was expecting my return. My eyes opened to the dappled sunlight of the early morning.

  My sister was standing silently in the doorway. She was clothed in an ivory nightgown, which struggled to reveal her pale ankles. A pair of dark circles hung beneath her weary eyes. It was obvious she had not managed to sleep. I was sure she had experienced the same dream that haunted her mind during the waking hours.

  “Oh, Alice,” Emery spoke as she hurried across the hardwood floor. “Did you have the nightmare?”

  I did not attempt to answer her question, as my mind continued to race with visions of the dark cavern. There was no doubt that we had shared the same nightmare; however, I was unable to find the proper words to describe the experience. I could not help but wonder about the message the fair-haired boy had written across the stone wall.

  “Do you have the journal we found in our grandmother’s library?” I inquired.

  “Yes, it’s right here,” Emery responded as she pulled the notebook out of the large pocket in her dress. She placed the journal in my hands, allowing my fingers to flip through the dusty pages. A sapphire ribbon was the object that marked the last mysterious page of writing. The ink-stained paper reminded me of the water that dripped from the stalactites of the hidden cave.

  “He is… the Lost Dreamer,” I murmured.

  “What are you talking about, Alice?” Emery demanded.

  “The strange boy in our nightmares!” I exclaimed. “The little boy who has been trying to communicate with us through our dreams.”

  Emery watched me, allowing her curious gaze to examine the details of my freckled face. An unreadable expression had settled in the corners of her pale lips. The silver light of the morning sun rested delicately around the shadows of her pink nose.

  “How many years have passed since the disappearance of Fionn MacMillan?” Emery questioned. “Do you really believe that our grandmother had the ability to foresee the truth of such a terrible matter?”

  “It has been nearly a decade since the disappearance of the little boy,” I responded. “The villagers believe he drowned in the sea, but they were never able to find the body. Our grandmother must have known something about the child. There is no other explanation!”

  “Perhaps you are right,” said Emery. “But we have no way to discover the truth. If the little boy is still alive, he must be no more than sixteen years of age. Fionn MacMillan is no longer a child.”

  “There is always a way to discover the truth,” I retorted. “We must find Killian.”

  “The little red fox?” inquired Emery. “What would he know about the mystery?”

  “I’m certain Killian is a member of the Guardians of Aisling,” I informed my sister. “He was in attendance at the Lennox Gala. He told me he received an unexpected invitation, but I believe he was assigned to keep watch over us. The Order of Birch is concerned about our safety.”

  “That explains why the headmistress refused to reveal the details of her meeting at Castle Moss,” said Emery. “Do you suppose someone is plotting against the Four Elementals?”

  “I have no idea,” I responded. “And I don’t want to jump to a conclusion until we have discussed the matter with Killian.”

  A loud knock sounded at my bedroom door. After a moment of silence, our mother appeared with a cup of tea in her hands. She glanced at both of us with a bright expression of curiosity.

  “I hope you enjoyed the gala.” She smiled. “Did you have the chance to meet any of the Lennox children?”

  “It was quite entertaining,” said Emery. “I’m sure Alice enjoyed her dance with Grayson Fields.”

  “Did you really, Alice?” My mother struggled to hold back the smirk that formed at the corners of her mouth.

  “Certainly not!” I responded. “Grayson Fields is a terrible dancer, and he was unable to keep himself from stepping on my poor feet! My sister was the one who danced the night away.”

  “Oh, that’s right!” exclaimed Emery. “I don’t think there was a single moment when you weren’t speaking to Ronan O’Reilly. I’m sure he is quite fond of you.”

  My cheeks were burning crimson. It was evident my sister was attempting to distract our mother and change the previous topic of conversation. She did not understand the discomfort she had placed on my shoulders.

  “Ronan is a very fine lad,” our mother remarked.

  “He is nothing more than a kind-hearted friend,” I attempted to assure her. “Although I believe Cleo Lennox is quite the opposite. I have no doubt she despises our family.”

  Our mother attempted to hide the spark of concern that flashed across her brown eyes. She did not speak another word before placing the cup of tea on the old bedside table. A cloud of steam was rising from the hot liquid. The woman abandoned the room without a second glance at our tired eyes.

  “I must apologize,” said Emery. “I know you hate embarrassment, but the topic of our conversation needed to be changed. Although I’m not sure of your feelings for Ronan, it isn’t difficult to notice he is quite fond of you.”

  “Perhaps you have been reading too many fantasy novels,” I responded. “Our thoughts should be occupied by matters of importance. There is a new darkness in the realm of Aisling.”

  The afternoon sunlight streamed through the trees as we rode our horses through the White Birch Forest. My chestnut mare led the way with graceful strides. The green leaves and white branches of the wood reached out with arms of welcome.

  “Where do you expect to find the little red fox?” inquired Emery. “I don’t think he has a permanent residence. Unless you know the details of his current location, it will be difficult to find the creature.”

  “I’m not sure where we will find Killian,” I responded. “I assume he will be with the Guardians of Aisling, although the location of their camp changes with time. Juniper and Ariadne seemed to believe they are still working in the White Birch Forest.”

  “Well,” said Emery, “this certainly isn’t the first time we have set out on an adventure without a destination.”

  “Your sarcasm is quite entertaining,” I replied. “As I recall, we managed to find Juniper in the forest that every person had overlooked. The realm of Aisling would have been destroyed if we did not discover the Last Elemental. We do not always need to have an unbreakable plan, my dear sister. Our lives are composed of unexpected moments and unforgettable adventures.”

  The horses suddenly spooked as the undergrowth rustled beside us. Someone was moving through the dark bushes, attempting to blend with the silence of the forest. A familiar pair of dark brows and viridescent eyes peered through the dense leaves. The plump creature seemed to glow with a spark of mischievousness.

  “Willoughby?”

  “Yes?” the old troll replied with a gruff voice.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Ah, I suppose I’ve been spotted,” he remarked before emerging from the undergrowth. “You aren’t searching for another lost student, are you?”

  “We are searching for Killian,” I informed the forest troll. “I’m sure you must know him; he is one of the Guardians of Aisling.”

  “Oh, my dear lassies,” responded Willoughby. “There isn’t a detail I don’t know about the Guardians of Aisling. Killian is always patrolling my corner of the White Birch Forest. The wee fox is nothing more than a bothersome creature.”

  “I’m sure the feeling is mutual,” Emery spoke under her breath.

  “Do you know where the Guardians have established their latest camp?” I questioned the old troll. “We must speak to Killian.”

  “O’ course!” Willoughby responded with a thick mountain accent. “You’re sure to find the ginger creature in the meadow that rests behind the Academy for Gifted Youth. The Guardians of Aisling have been camping in that field for several weeks, although I’m not sure of the reason behind such a peculiar decision.”

  “We appreciate your assistance, Willoughby,” I responded. “This is not the first time you have been helpful to us; however, I assure you that I have not forgotten your previous act of kindness.”

  “I’ve been told I’m unusually virtuous for a common forest troll,” said Willoughby.

  “Indeed,” Emery responded as she attempted to hide her amusement.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As we approached the meadow that rested on the far side of the Academy for Gifted Youth, the bustle of the campsite surrounded us. The aroma of cooked vegetables and hot tea floated through the air. The stone castle was overshadowed by the dark horses and medieval tents that lined the edge of the forest. A number of curious glares began to collect upon the surface of our foreign skin. We were nothing more than strangers in the land of those who continued to work for our safety.

  “Alice and Emery Hanley,” a gravelly voice spoke from the depths of the growing crowd. “What are you doing here?”

  My gaze rested upon the familiar face of a rugged archer, who could have been mistaken for the character of an experienced bandit. A wooden bow was slung around his broad shoulders, while a leather arrow quiver dangled from his dark belt. A deep frown was settled in the beard that rested under his nose.

  “Lachlan,” I greeted our old acquaintance. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “You have a remarkable talent for avoiding questions, Alice Hanley!” The archer spoke in an unusually flat tone of exclamation. “What matter has brought you to our campsite?”

  “We must speak with Killian,” said Emery.

 

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