Autumn (54 page)

             
Amelia Bodean’s voice changed subtly as old notes of stale and long-held bitterness crept in. “And then, years later, your mother dared fall in love with a man who had danger trailing his very coat-tails and charm dripping off of him like rain.”

             
Amelia Bodean laughed sharply, but it was a hollow and humourless sound, as if she was fully resigned to her place in the shadows.

             
“My sacrifice…reduced to nothing. My very soul, for her life! And your father dared to risk her – and he lost…”

             
Arabel felt the well of her grandmother’s sorrow slam into her with an insistence and a weight that fairly bowled her over. Her grandmother stood, looking directly at Arabel now and Paloma crossed over to stand with them as well.

             
“Your father’s ‘infiltration’ cost me my only child.”

             
“We all do what we must,” Paloma remarked impassively with another philosophical shrug.

             
The sky was white and Arabel realized she was staring at it.

             
Slowly, Arabel’s conscious thought processes allowed her to rise to the waking level once more and she realized that her entire body was being flooded with light. Arabel felt herself being filled with delectable, buoyant, all-pervasive waves of love, alongside the knowing and unspoken intention that she was to carry this beautiful energy forward into the world of The Corvids.

             
The cottage, her grandmother, Paloma, all faded from view, and Arabel was once again fully within the dreamscape of the Elemental’s realm. Arabel clutched at the last wisps of her grandmother’s visage, but the vision had gone. Arabel felt the light flooding her body, easing her sorrow and confusion.

             
Grateful and restored, Arabel smiled at the Elemental. “Thank you,” she said, holding out her hand.

             
The Elemental took her hand graciously and Arabel saw that Zander had also just awakened from the glorious, restorative and magical slumber.

             
“Seek to end the madness, small humans, and return again,” the Elemental ordered them, as the golden rope appeared, uncoiling itself into two long, slithering pieces.

             
“Thank you, sir,” Zander said, grasping the rope firmly as Arabel did the same.

             
“We will help to restore your line, dear Elemental,” Arabel whispered her solemn promise.

             
The great tree creature smiled at them. “Until we meet again, be well, daughter of Vio-letta!”

             
The blinding, heatless light burst into the sky and Arabel and Zander were thrust unceremoniously through the tree-root sphere and spat out into the forest a short distance away.

             
Ira, squawking loudly, flew over to join them immediately. The crow landed upon Arabel’s shoulder and Arabel surveyed her dirt-streaked gown with a small smirk.

             
“Another gown, ruined!” she exclaimed, stroking Ira’s dark feathers lovingly.

             
Zander afforded Arabel a mischievous grin. “Small price to pay for a visit to an enchanted realm,” he retorted sassily.

             
“Absolutely!” Arabel agreed as Ira cawed in quick succession, telling her that she had just left and almost instantly, had reappeared.

             
Apparently the Elemental had turned the hand of time backward, as promised, and no time had been lost while they were visiting within the white sky realm. Arabel sent the crow’s insight to Zander, who quite enjoyed the idea that they had time-travelled.

             
The two companions prepared their mounts for the ride back to Ravenswood Glen and the Gypsy camp within the Copse. By now, Arabel knew the way without hesitation and this small fact pleased her an inordinate amount. She loved the Glen, she loved the forest, and she loved the Gypsies.

             
A peaceful smile adorned Arabel’s beautiful face, and upon seeing it, Zander grinned widely in response.

             
“Race you back!” he challenged her, and with a good natured laugh, the competition began.

             
The two friends urged their horses to a gallop as they embarked upon the winding trail back to camp. Ira flew overhead and the saucy corvid informed Arabel in no uncertain terms that he was determined to win the race.

             
Arabel didn’t doubt it. The crow was her hero and she wasn’t likely to forget it.

             
“How incredibly beautiful!” Arabel exclaimed to Eli as they peered out the carriage window at the myriad twinkling lights as the grand vista of Murphy Estates came into view.

             
“
You
are eminently more beautiful, my love,” Eli replied, kissing Arabel’s cheek softly, his hand trailing up her arm slowly to rest upon her shoulder. Arabel turned into Eli’s kiss and brought her lips to his. For a long moment neither paid any attention to the beauty of the scene unfolding in front of them as their attention was focused solely on each other.

             
Arabel broke away with a small sigh of contentment. She traced Eli’s cheekbone with her hand as he ran his fingers lightly over her shiny black hair, which was currently swept up into a sophisticated braid, highlighting her own stunning cheekbones. Arabel grasped Eli’s hand and their fingers laced together. She smiled beatifically at him and they resumed their visual discovery of Murphy Estates through the carriage window.

             
The scene which greeted their eyes was surreal and enchanting. The long, winding drive of Murphy Estates swung ahead of them in a profusion of glorious golden-yellow light and they surveyed row upon row of gaily decorated lanterns strung across the wide, frost-covered lawns. A multitude of torches stood gallantly in the chill breeze as they shared their light and faint warmth with the revellers coming up the drive.

             
Arabel and Eli gazed at the transformed landscape in wonder. Murphy Estates was as finely decorated as Arabel herself and the effect was breathtaking. The estate had been re-made into a veritable palace of light and it was a stunning display of both ingenuity and beauty in action. The long line of carriages ahead of Arabel and Eli’s gave them plenty of time to fully appreciate the vast reach of the party decorations, and the opportunity to discover the intricately designed pattern of light and shadow.

             
“See there!” Arabel exclaimed in delight. “They’ve fashioned a swan out of candles!” She pointed to a floating display of candles set upon a wide, flat raft on the large pond to the right of the drive. The raft was stationary as the pond had frozen over and it gave the candlelit ‘swan’ a haunting, ethereal effect.

             
“I have noticed the workers rushing back and forth for days now,” Eli remarked, “but I never fathomed they would create anything as glorious as this! Look, over there!”

             
Eli pointed to a large ice sculpture of two dancing figures just past the candlelit swan. Both stared in astonishment as other ice sculptures came into view. There were several deer, a few children throwing snowballs and another finely sculpted pair of dancing figures. All were life-sized and intricate in their execution. The weather had accommodated the ice sculptures by freezing and snow seemed most likely imminent over the course of the evening.

             
Arabel spotted a wandering musician playing a violin, the haunting strains of his performance floated to her upon the wind, and she also noted what looked like Chief Constable Bartlin’s officers stationed all around the perimeter of the mansion.

             
“See there,” Arabel pointed out to Eli. “Is that – do you think the Chief is here with his men?”

             
Eli perused the solemn line of men guarding the house and he also noticed that the long, tree-lined drive had been coated in some sort of magic. Eli shut his eyes to aid his concentration as he began to suss out what sort of magic it could be and Arabel placed her hand on his arm immediately.

             
“Are you alright?” she asked concernedly.

             
Eli nodded. “Just attempting to ascertain what magic the grounds have been doused in.  It is Gypsy
magic,
that much I can tell straight off.”

             
Arabel paused in her appreciation of the party decorations to stop her mind and open herself to finding the answer to Eli’s quest as well. Arabel could sense the flavour of the Gypsy magic too, but other than the sense of protection she could feel, it was not a spell she had learnt, so she was rendered unable to identify it.

             
“It’s an old fashioned Party Charm Spell mixed with a Boundary Spell,” Eli declared triumphantly, opening up his warm, expressive brown eyes and kissing Arabel’s pert nose.

             
“A Party Charm Spell?” Arabel laughed. “Is that much as it sounds?”

             
“Yes, I imagine so. It ensures a rollicking evening for all, and creates an atmosphere of balance and enjoyment.”

             
Arabel smiled and cuddled in closer to Eli, tucking her arm in with his.

             
“I am already having the best time I have ever had at a party,” she confided contentedly.

             
“We are going to dance all night,” Eli declared determinedly. He looked askance at Arabel.

             
“I must prove my dancing skills to you, as you have expressed doubt in my abilities in the recent past,” he continued, playfully teasing her.

             
Arabel pretended hurt. “I was only asking if you danced; I did not say I thought you could
not
dance,” she defended herself, smirking, just a little.

             
Eli laughed and kissed her soundly, leaving them both a bit breathless. “Oh, I will most certainly show you my impressive dancing moves tonight,” he promised with an engaging grin and a tight, quick squeeze.

             
They were nearing the roundabout at the top of the drive where all of the carriages halted; their occupants could descend here and enter the mansion. There were currently only three carriages in front of theirs and Arabel was interested to view who was alighting from the other coaches.

             
“Look, there’s Mayor Aldritch,” she announced as the stout, whisker faced man stepped out with his very new and much younger wife. Behind them, Chief Constable Bartlin appeared, solo, and the three party-goers were whisked inside of the mansion by waiting servants, all of whom wore the Murphy Estates colours of gold and yellow, presumably outfitted as such so as to match the decor.

             
The second carriage emptied and a group of young men stepped out, all dressed very well in fancy suits. They were a noisy, boisterous bunch and Arabel couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm, as it mirrored her own keen interest. Arabel was excited to see Shelaine and meet her newest beau, Abelard Van Heusen, and the anticipation of a delightfully romantic evening with Eli made Arabel hurry to alight from the coach when it was finally their turn.

             
Eli helped her down the succession of stairs to the ground as Arabel had discovered, to her slight dismay, that the small train on her dress made quick movement challenging and the tight cut of the satin bodice did not give her much leeway of motion. Tonight, however, Arabel was content with being unable to scale a tree or run through the forest chasing evil. Tonight, she simply wanted to enjoy Eli’s arms and his company. Arabel’s intention was to dance all night and to mingle with dear friends. She was determined to at least attempt to momentarily forget about all of the recent sorrows, and the stain of the unsolved, on-going, and deadly mysteries.

             
As Arabel took hold of Eli’s hand, they entered the receiving line queue, which began just outside of the front door on the brick and stone steps, and she appraised her beau silently. Eli did indeed possess a good suit, a black one, and to Arabel’s discerning eye, he had never looked more handsome. The suit fit Eli’s lean, athletic frame perfectly and the black emphasized his dark colouring and his large, almond shaped brown eyes. Eli’s chocolate brown curls grazed the top of his black and charcoal striped shirt and Arabel’s fingers itched to run through his soft, errant curls, and so she succumbed to the impulse, and did just that.

             
Catching her eye, Eli smiled at Arabel, the slow as honey, sweetly delicious smile she had come to crave. He leaned down and kissed her lips, briefly, but firmly, and she squeezed his hand. The colours she saw whenever they were together were such a constant to her now that she scarcely noticed them; it seemed as though she was always ensconced in some sort of pink, green and gold matrix when she and Eli touched. Eli put his arm around Arabel’s shoulders and they entered the mansion. Arabel felt swathed in gold in a most intoxicating and desirable manner.