The Prophecy of the Gems (18 page)

The Ghibdul paused. One of his fellows now addressed the young man.

“We know who you are. You were not to learn your identity before that day, for the Prophecy affirms that we are the ones who will reveal it to you.”

Trembling with emotion, his heart pounding wildly, almost choking with anxiety, the young man waited. Would he finally find out who he really was? The Ghibduls stood gravely before him, and in a solemn voice, one of them announced to him at last:

“Nameless, you are the man who has long been expected by everyone, everywhere. You are the Chosen One.”

AMBER SPENT THE
rest of the night teary-eyed and unable to sleep. How could Janëlle have betrayed her! Amber had thought she was her friend, and in the short time that the illusion had lasted she had trusted her, opened her heart to her.

At dawn, Jade and Opal came running over, for they had both strongly sensed a terrible threat to Amber. All their hatred had vanished, so they were eager to hear what had happened, and to comfort her. The girls felt uneasy when they remembered their fury of the previous day, and Amber’s swollen lip
showed them how badly they’d behaved.

After exchanging hasty apologies, the girls finally realised how close they had grown since the liberation of Nathyrnn. Even Jade and Opal, once so hostile to one another, had been getting along much better.

They ate in silence, then mounted their horses.

In the distance, snow-capped mountains veiled in mist rose into a sky still streaked with the light of dawn.

The three girls rode on towards Oonagh’s grotto, which was no longer very far away. Jade told Amber that they might reach it within a week if they hurried, and Amber gently asked her horse to quicken his pace.

“I just remembered something,” Amber said. “Last night I thought I saw a man on a horse. I was probably mistaken, I know, but I thought I should tell you.”

Jade shrugged, but Opal, who was sitting behind her on the same horse, spoke up as if what she had to say were the most natural thing in the world: “Me too — I saw a shadow before I fell asleep.”

“Who could be spying on us?” wondered Jade. “I’m sick of all these mysteries. The last thing we need is some phantom horseman bothering us! If you see him
again, tell me, so I can give him a good swift kick!”

Amber laughed weakly and Opal gave her a fleeting smile. Opal was recalling the moments she had spent with Adrien before relapsing into unconsciousness, and remembering the terrible feeling of waking to the realisation that he was going away to risk his life. Her heart sank at the thought. Would she ever see him again? She slipped into a melancholic reverie.

Amber, too, was feeling gloomy, and tried to distract herself by observing the countryside. Once again she noticed that no one was working the fields. Men and women with long silvery hair were indeed out amid the crops, but they had no farming tools and were simply laughing and singing. Curious, Amber asked her companions if they might stop and question these people, and the other girls readily assented, eager for a distraction. They dismounted and made their way through a field of sunflowers, welcomed by the peasants’ beaming smiles. The farm folk were won over by Amber’s open face and friendly greeting, and one of them, a short, stocky fellow, exclaimed, “Your eyes are made of gold, the sky, and flowers!”

The other farmers laughed in agreement, looking at her with teasing expressions. Nonplussed by this unusual compliment, Amber gamely launched into her questions.

“Do you work the land? I don’t know Fairytale at all, and I’d like to know how peasants live here, if that’s what you are.”

Her audience laughed again good-heartedly; these people seemed simple but hospitable, with a joyful gleam in their eyes.

“Since the beginning of time, we have understood the earth,” explained one of the women. “Our songs, our rejoicing nourish it, make it happy. When the plants begin to sprout, we reap our reward. We live in harmony with plants and the earth. If that means being ‘peasants’, as you say, then that is what we are.”

“Are you a magic people?” asked Jade admiringly.

“No more than others, or yourselves,” replied the woman. “There is magic in every one of us. Each seed is unlike any other.”

Seeing the girls’ quizzical expressions, the farmers laughed again, and the woman who had spoken to them murmured, “We’re pleased to have met you.”

Sensing that it was time for them to go, the girls said goodbye to these jovial people, who bade them farewell with melodious songs and merriment.

Once the three companions were on their way again, Amber announced, “When we were leaving, the man who said those strange things about my eyes whispered something to me, something like: ‘Nature works miracles that magic can only dream about’.”

“Those people were strange,” said Opal.

“But nice,” insisted Amber.

“Well, they certainly seemed to like you,” said Jade decisively.

“Me?” replied Amber. “Maybe that’s because I feel close to them, as if I understand them…”

The girls rode on, stopping briefly from time to time. After a few hours a town wreathed in a blackish fog appeared on the horizon. In spite of their growing distrust of anything unfamiliar they decided to go through the town, because going around it would have taken too much time.

They entered the town that afternoon. Dismounting, they led their horses by the bridle and the animals moved forward confidently.

“Is there any danger here?” Amber asked her horse.

He did not reply but seemed to sniff the air before sending her a feeling not of peril, but of poverty and desolation.

The town was silent, and all the houses were shut tight.

“A few homes have burnt down recently,” remarked Opal.

At the end of the first street several houses had been reduced to a heap of ashes and charred objects.

Amber shivered. Suddenly a fat man wearing something like an elegant silk toga came rushing out of a house and fell to his knees in front of the girls. His face was vivid with terror, he was shaking violently, and the despair in his eyes was close to madness.

“Whoever you are,” he begged, “help us! I implore you, don’t let us perish.”

Because she was learning to be wary of everything, Opal was convinced that this was some new trick and wanted to continue on their way, but Amber held on to her arm and Jade nodded briefly to show her approval.

“What happened?” Amber asked the man.

“You don’t know?” he moaned. “Come inside what’s left of my home, and you’ll understand.”

The three girls looked at one another. Amber and Jade decided to investigate, one from compassion, the other from curiosity, and Opal was forced to go along with them. Amber paused to tell her horse to wait there for them, then followed the others into a modest stone house, closing the door softly behind her.

Inside, a weeping, dishevelled woman and a swarm of children huddled together, terrified and in a state of shock. The place had been torn apart: broken objects and furniture littered the floor and the unassuming but pleasant pictures on the wall had been slashed to ribbons. The once comfortable home was now nothing but ruins.

“Just look at what they did!” said the man. “What can we do now? No one — except you — has dared set foot in our town. No one will sacrifice their lives to help us.”

“But what happened?” repeated Amber.

“They came back,” hissed the man, eyes wide with fear. “Ever since the fall of Thaar, they have been showing up everywhere.”

“Who?” demanded Jade.

The woman cowering at the back of the room let out a shriek.

“Just ignore her,” cautioned the man. “She’s a madwoman who wanders our streets. When they arrived I took her in to save her, in memory of my wife, who was killed by them a long time ago.”

The woman continued to shout hysterically.

“Béah Jardun, be quiet!” ordered the man, clamping his hands over his ears.

The woman obeyed him promptly, reassured by the sound of her own name.

“So you don’t know who
they
are?” marvelled the man, turning back to the three girls. “We’ve always dreaded them. There were periods when they reigned over almost all of Fairytale, and at other times we heard nothing more of them for centuries. They have returned, and now they are more powerful than ever! A hundred soldiers of Darkness are leading them — they have always wanted to rule Fairytale, that’s why they have joined the Council of Twelve, which has promised them this territory in exchange for their support and their obedience. They’ve almost certainly
pledged their loyalty so that they can betray their masters after they have conquered us.”

“Aside from these soldiers of Darkness,” interrupted Jade, “who are
they?
”

“Wicked creatures of all kinds,” he replied, “including some men, who have chosen the side of evil because they all have one thing in common: the desire to destroy. Some of them even know how to breathe hatred into pure souls — they have the Gift of evil.”

“Like Janëlle,” thought Amber bitterly.

“Ever since Thaar fell to them and the Council of Twelve,” continued the man, “they have again been running wild in Fairytale. They pillage, slaughtering those weaker than they are. Most of our army, the one that protected us, is mobilised around Thaar. As for the sorcerers of Light, people say that they never existed and are only a legend. Many of us are ready to fight, of course, but the Chosen One has still not come, so we’re losing hope and beginning to give up.”

“The Chosen One? Who’s that?” asked Jade.

The man stared at her in disbelief. Then he seemed struck by something obvious and coughed, recovering his composure.

“I don’t know what I’m talking about any more — I must be raving, like that poor lunatic Béah Jardun. Pay no attention to what I said.”

“Don’t expect me to fall for that!” scoffed Jade. “Do these evil creatures have a name?”

“Not really, just the Army of Darkness.”

“And who are the sorcerers of Light?”

“If they exist, they’re the only ones capable of opposing the soldiers of Darkness. Soon, when the Army of Light is assembled…”

“What? What army?” asked Jade. “Why would it assemble? Is there going to be a war?”

“I’ve said too much,” sighed the man. “I don’t want to talk about this any more.”

While Jade was questioning the man about the Chosen One, Amber had approached the woman and children, speaking to them in her soft, gentle voice, hoping to comfort them as best she could. A spark of lucidity seemed to flicker in the eyes of Béah Jardun, who leant forward, tugging on Amber’s arm to make her bend down, and whispered nervously, “When you were born, your mother was overjoyed! Frightened as well, but so happy… I was there — only a maidservant,
but still, I was there. Many people were. Even Jean Losserand, the traveller, who was going home after his many adventures, was passing through that night. He helped your mother to flee, to hide you safely in the Outside. And when he tried to bring her back to Fairytale, before going back to his home, they were arrested. Jean Losserand remained out there, in prison, but your mother — she was killed by order of the Council of Twelve. I went with them too, but, thank goodness, I was luckier; I managed to come back and find your father again, who was waiting in vain for his wife. Later the Army of Darkness killed him as well.”

“Is that true?”

That was all Amber managed to say, she was so staggered by emotion.

“Of course it’s true,” replied Béah Jardun indignantly. “Your mother and father loved you, so did Jean and I, and others, and that’s what made you different, Amber.”

Then the woman fell back into a stupor from which nothing, not even Amber’s desperate questions, could rouse her.

Meanwhile, the man had taken up his story again.

“This town is inhabited exclusively by healers, like myself, and by professional magicians. We use only a rudimentary form of magic to give the necessary strength to our potions and ointments. We’re fine, peaceful people! But they showed us no mercy — they took our food, our few bits of jewellery, and they burnt our houses. I could save only a dozen potions. Today they returned to destroy almost everything that was left and sealed the town.”

“Sealed the town?” repeated Jade. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s what they do in every city and town they invade: they mark it with the Seal of Darkness so that no one will be able to leave for an entire year. We’re condemned to die of hunger, and we’ll suffer atrociously until Death’s strike is over.”

“That’s despicable,” gasped Jade.

“And of course, nobody ventures into a town sealed by the Army of Darkness — they’re afraid of reprisals, or simply of ending up a prisoner like everyone else!”

“Which means that we are now shut up inside your town,” observed Opal evenly.

“Yes, but…” The man began to cry. “From the moment you entered, there was nothing I could do,” he sobbed.

“We have a little food that will last us for a few days,” said Opal brightly. “We’ll find a solution.”

Jade was furious. “Great, another trap!” she fumed.

WHILE JADES AND
Opal discussed the situation, Amber was silent. She was having trouble following the conversation because she could think of nothing but the words of Béah Jardun.

“So why did this Army of Darkness attack you?” Jade asked their host.

“They spare the villages and fields because they are a waste of time. The people there will never resist them and so pose no threat in their eyes. In certain towns like ours, however, they strike without mercy. They’re trying to intimidate us because they know
that we’re against them and that when the Chosen One comes, we’ll be at his side.”

“You were just saying that this Chosen One doesn’t exist, that you were raving,” observed Jade dryly.

“Right, of course! I’m — not feeling well,” stammered the man, trying to cover up his mistake. “I don’t know what came over me, I’m talking utter nonsense. The Chosen One? I’ve no idea where that came from.”