CHAPTER TWELVE
Ricci
had mixed feelings about resuming his natural form. Tired of being a snake and
failing to become a bat, it seemed the best option although even that proved
difficult. Relief, though, was
short-lived as he realized he was lost. This
is ridiculous. I can’t be lost. My sense of direction never fails me.
Yet, having arrived at another fork where the tunnel
branched off in not one, two or even three but four directions, Ricci was
forced to concede he had no idea which he should take. He sat down and thought
hard, willing his peculiar senses to inform him of the way forward. Those same senses,
however, remained peculiarly dormant. Oh, well, there’s only one thing for it. He
rose abruptly, closed his eyes, and swung round on his toes like a spinning
top, one hand outstretched and forefinger pointing. Shakily and a little dizzy,
he stopped just as abruptly and opened his eyes to see where the finger was
pointing. He uttered a gasp that was more like a yelp of surprise to discover
he was pointing not at any of the four tunnels but at the last person he
expected to see there or anywhere. “Galia..! But how…why…?
“Yes, Ricci dear, it’s me. I have come from the Motherworld
to aid my children. As for whatever other purpose, only time will tell, and
very glad I am to see you too!”
To Ricci’s delight and some discomfort, she proceeded
to embrace him in a big hug. Her touch, her smell…it was almost too much for
poor Ricci who adored this woman he had once served so faithfully and thought
long dead. Reluctantly, he wriggled free and bowed low. “Your Majesty…”
“Not Majesty any more Ricci. Not for a long, long,
time and never again. So let’s dispense with the formalities shall we? You may
call me Galia, just as you used to sometimes. We were friends, weren’t we?”
Ricci nodded, lost for words and still struggling to contain his feelings. Oh, joy! But what an unexpected and
incredible turn of events. I’ll say! “Well then, friends we are again. Oh,
Ricci, it is so good to see you!” She hugged him again, Ricci savouring every precious
moment, almost convinced by now that he was not dreaming. “Now, Ricci dear,
which way do we go?”
As she moved away, Ricci noticed that his forefinger
was still pointing outwards, and as it so happened, directly at one of the tunnels
ahead. “That way,” he mumbled, his
confidence at once restored by a radiant smile from his queen, for his queen
she would always be no matter what happened. This time, I will not fail you, my queen, he told himself, and
instantly believed it to be true. It was therefore with increasing confidence
that Ricci led the way along the narrowest and lowest of the tunnels.
Ricci, being small, was able to move with ease and
speed, but Galia had to bend her back and her progress was slow, not least
because it began to ache considerably. Ricci would press ahead, wait until she
caught up and go on alone again. Eventually, the tunnel opened up and Galia was
able to stand erect. “Thank goodness for that. Now, shall we take a rest and
decide on our next move?”
Ricci nodded, wondering what on earth their next move
should be as he had glimpsed another fork in the tunnel around the next bend.
Astor would know, of course. Why, oh,
why, is Astor always somewhere else when you need him most?
“Tell me Ricci,” Galia began hesitantly, what news is
there of my children?” Ricci gulped. He had been dreading the question, and
half hoping she would not ask it while realizing it would have been on her
tongue all the time.
“The Motherworlders are safe as far as I know,” he
muttered.
“That is good to hear, but you know I speak as Galia
of Mamelon, too, Ricci, not a Motherworlder. It is confusing, I know. Believe
me. I am as confused as anyone. I never thought to see Mamelon again, and Astor
told me my children were dead or I would never have left.”
“So how is it you were able to leave at all?” Ricci
felt compelled to ask. “Did you find Time Gate?” Galia nodded pensively. “That was lucky. I’ll say!”
Galia smiled to cover her embarrassment and shame. How
could she tell her old friend that Timon, her lover, had broken all the laws of
the old religion and conjured up a Time Gate purely for their own selfish ends?
I will tell him, I must, but not now, not
yet. “Nadya, she is well?
“You know then that Calum is dead?” Ricci murmured, playing for time.
Galia opened her mouth to protest, remembering just in
time that she must not speak or even think about her Mamelon firstborn. She feared
the latter demanded more willpower than she possessed. Even so, she managed a
brief nod and pressed her lips tightly together.
Ricci was moved by her obvious distress and could only
marvel at her self-restraint. They had been close, mother and son. “I know
nothing of Nadya,” he admitted, “but she has two children of her own…”
“I have grandchildren?” Galia gasped. Her face lit up
and its solemn expression softened on the spot.
Ricci nodded. “Nadya married Kris, a builder. They
have a son, Heron and a daughter, Arissa.” Ricci swallowed hard and resolved to
say as little as possible about the bitch, Arissa. Heron is known to your Motherworld
sons and their friend, Bethan. I do not know if they are aware of the
relationship although I doubt it unless Astor has explained…
“Astor has explained nothing, not even to me,” Galia
told him more sharply than she intended.
Ricci winced involuntarily. Was it anger, bitterness
or both that gave her voice an edge sharper than any blade? That there was no
love lost between father and daughter was legendary. Did this present him with
divided loyalties, he wondered? He instantly attempted to shrug off the
question, but it continued to nag at him. He contrived a philosophical shrug.
At least there was no question as to whom he would choose. It would be Galia, of course,
and as for whatever consequences... Ricci shivered. Oh, but why go there unless or
until I have to? Even so, he had the distinct impression that someone had
just walked over his grave.
Galia instantly relented, and her voice softened.
“Astor has his work cut out trying to protect Mamelon from dark forces,” she conceded,
adding ruefully, “It would appear that Ragund is an all but equal match for him
these days.”
“Not to mention that she-wolf, Shireen.” Ricci made no
attempt to conceal his hatred for Ragund’s consort.
Galia merely nodded, her still beautiful face wearing
a troubled expression that cut Ricci to the quick. She saw his distress,
guessed the reason for it, and gave him a radiant smile. “Don’t look so
worried, Ricci. Ragund and Shireen are no true match for my father whatever
they may or anyone else believe. Besides, there is a greater force for the good
at work here too, I am sure of it. But don’t ask me what as I really have no
idea.” She gave a light laugh that eased the tension between them to the extent
that Ricci felt instantly reassured and even managed a grin that was not
altogether forced.
“It has been my sense, too, for some time,” he
admitted, “but I cannot begin to put a name to it except that, whatever it is,
it is working with and for us rather than against us.”
Galia opened her mouth as if to say something, thought
better of it and said nothing. It would not do to raise false hopes. Besides, I could be wrong, so wrong, and
yet… She pushed the thought aside, not daring to articulate upon it even to
herself while, at the same time, allowing herself to hope. Subsequently, her
flagging spirits rallied to fly higher than they had been since her return to
Mamelon.
Ricci gasped.
Mistaking, delight for fear, Galia swung round, ready to do battle. Her relief knew no bounds.
“You are right to hope, daughter, just as you are also
right to keep your thoughts safely hid from prying ears,” said Etta the Magela,
her voice a murmuring lilt that reminded Ricci of waves lapping against a
shore, her white hair piled high and young-old face lit with genuine pleasure
if tempered with other, darker concerns.
