The Prophecy of the Gems (4 page)

“Now you must go. There is also a little money in the purse. You’ll be all right, Amber.”

“Mama, I don’t want to leave you! You need me!”

“Not any more, Amber. The tree is close by, between the village and the palace of Divulyon, in a meadow that belongs to no one and where flowers bloom all year round. It’s one of the last enchanted places in the Realm.”

“I know where it is, Mama,” said Amber, whose heart was beating so fast, so hard, that it hurt.

“The tree is tall, with leaves that are always green, and fruit that is always ripe. There you will meet your enemies. Go, Amber. You must go. And so must I …”

“Mama, I can’t leave. You are and always will be my mother. I won’t leave you. Not now.”

“Be strong,” replied her mother faintly. Then she closed her eyes and smiled.

“Mama, I’m staying,” insisted Amber. She looked at her mother. “Mama! Mama!” she called, panic-stricken. “Mama!”

Her mother seemed to be sleeping peacefully, but she was no longer breathing. She had left this world, quietly serenely, with the uncertain image of a freer place.

“Mama, Mama,” moaned Amber, in an agony of pain and sorrow. She kissed her mother’s forehead. Now she, too, had to set out into the unknown. “I will be strong,” she promised herself. Then, her heart bleeding, she vanished into the night.

UNDER A STARRY
sky, in the forever-flowering meadow, beneath the tree perpetually wreathed in leaves, the girls looked at one another. They had met a few minutes before, but had not yet spoken a single word. Each one studied the others, all thinking the same thing: “We are enemies.”

Jade scrutinised the other two with disdain. Her head high, an imperious look in her eye, she wanted them to understand perfectly that they were of no importance to her. “A peasant and a commoner, I’m not impressed,” she thought smugly But deep down she was extremely upset, and determined not to show
how she was feeling. She watched Amber, her face crumpled, weeping quietly. “Poor girl, you’re pathetic!” thought Jade. She noted the humble clothing, dirty face and hair spattered with mud. Jade felt no hatred for Amber, even though she was supposed to be her enemy. Then her eyes met Opal’s — and she stiffened immediately. “She’s not my type,” she decided. “We are already and always will be enemies! Who does she think she is, staring at me like that? She’s getting on my nerves!”

Actually, Opal was gazing almost absent-mindedly at Jade. She didn’t usually make hasty judgments, but she’d quickly realised that she and that snooty-looking girl were not going to get along.

As for Amber, she was too distraught over her mother’s death to be thinking clearly. Try as she might, she could not stop crying. She glanced a few times at her two enemies, but was too wretched to do more than watch them without forming any definite opinions. She remembered scraps of phrases and saw herself again at her mother’s side: “Two other girls … your enemies … a meadow … people say it’s enchanted … the purse … before midnight …”

Just one thing roused Amber from her thoughts. She made an effort to rise for an instant above the misery that weighed her down, and she recalled her mother’s last words: “Be strong. Be strong!” She had to struggle against this suffering, to return to the present moment. Then she wiped away her tears and broke the silence.

“The black velvet purse! What time is it?”

Astonished that Amber had mentioned the mysterious purse, Jade and Opal looked at her with curiosity — and even though they would never have admitted it, they were pleased that someone had finally spoken up.

“What time is it?” repeated Amber.

Jade looked at her watch, proudly showing off its diamond-studded band.

“It’s ten minutes past midnight,” she announced haughtily.

Amber looked at Jade. She did not envy the girl her fine clothes, precious jewels and flashing eyes, but in spite of herself she admired the strength she seemed to radiate. Then Amber considered Opal. Motionless, emotionless, Opal possessed a coolness that Amber found impressive, considering the circumstances.

“My name is Amber. If I asked you what time it was, it’s because my mother gave me a black velvet purse that I wasn’t supposed to open before midnight.”

“Me too!” exclaimed Jade. “Except in my case, it was my father who gave one to me — at least, the man I’ve believed to be my father for fourteen years … but … isn’t any more.”

“Really?” marvelled Amber. “My mother wasn’t my real mother, either. Except that for me, she’s still my mother, and … she just died …”

Overcome once more by grief, she stopped. Opal, who had been silent until then, now spoke with unusual gentleness.

“Amber, I’m so sorry for you. It’s terrible to have to go through all that in one day.”

Amber nodded, comforted to hear a kind word. “And you — did you receive a purse too?”

Opal nodded.

“We have that in common, all three of us. By the way, I’m Opal.”Then she added, in a harsh voice,”And apparently we are enemies — although I don’t know why”

“Too right,” agreed Jade sternly, looking at Opal.

“I don’t believe that,” said Amber. “How could we be enemies when we don’t even know one another? After all, nothing’s forcing us!”

“That’s not true,” insisted Jade. “My so-called father, the Duke of Divulyon, never lies. He said we’re enemies, so we are.”

“Your adoptive father is the Duke of Divulyon?” asked Amber.

“Yes. Until this evening, I was Jade of Divulyon. Now, I don’t know any more. Not only do I know nothing about my family, but it seems I mustn’t tell anyone my name because I have enemies everywhere, and blah blah blah.”

“I was told the same thing,” confessed Amber.

“Me, too,” chimed in Opal.

“So what? Where does that get me?” Jade said huffily.”I don’t know where I’m supposed to go, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do! And why am I here with you? Does anyone know what we’re doing here?”

“No,” replied Amber and Opal in chorus.

“What a mess we’re in!” remarked Jade. “And why am I saying ‘we’? You’re my enemies, so there isn’t any ‘we’! Why should we stay together?”

“The three of us are stronger together than alone, especially if we have enemies in common,” replied Amber. “Obviously,
they
are our greatest danger, right? As for me, I don’t mean you any harm, I don’t even know who you are.”

“What if we opened these black purses?” said Jade firmly. “Perhaps there’s something important inside.”

“Good idea,” agreed Amber.

“We’re still enemies!” Opal reminded them.

Busily opening their velvet purses, the other girls didn’t reply. Opal opened hers as well, unable to resist the desire to see the stone again.

Amber stifled a cry when she found a stone the colour of autumn, a dark, translucent orange with tints of red or chestnut: she felt as if she were watching a sunset. She felt a little more at peace, and although her grief did not disappear, it became less searing, giving way to a comforting warmth. Amber held tightly to the stone, which she could sense distinctly was not really a stone at all.

At that same moment, Jade was examining her stone, which was deep green, pure and intense. “A piece of jade,” she murmured. The colour was so rich,
so striking, that she marvelled at it for a few moments. Then, without knowing why, she, too, gripped the stone tightly.

Meanwhile, Opal examined the stone that had brought on her fever. This time she noticed its bluish, pearly reflections, which gave the pale green a complex and fascinating sparkle, as if the stone were flecked with glitter. Instinctively, Opal too grasped the stone with all her strength. The three girls felt their anxieties slowly ebb away. Everything inside them was relaxed, and they began to have pleasant thoughts. They forgot that they were in the meadow, that they had been more or less driven from their homes, and that it was dark; they forgot everything, and felt a new freedom surge through them. All three of them closed their eyes at exactly the same time, and a bond formed between them. Their Stones seemed to communicate, to blend, to merge into one another, and the girls followed them. They felt as if they were one being and a thousand different beings at the same time. It didn’t really matter: either way, they formed a whole, complete and indestructible. A picture gradually appeared in their minds, an unknown, complicated
image. It hovered for a while, long enough to pervade their memories, then faded away.

The three girls emerged slowly from their altered state. There was no doubt: they were to follow the sign they had been given, this strange symbol, composed of spirals, curves and arabesques. The Stones had spoken to them by sending this picture to them. The girls looked at one another with new and almost friendly eyes. “These are not Stones,” observed Amber, her voice still dreamy and faraway. “They’re something else. Something to help us. I really think so, don’t you?”

“Yes,” agreed Jade. “Now we know what we must do: understand and seek out this symbol.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” cut in Opal. “We’ll see about that tomorrow. Now we have to find somewhere to sleep.”

“Here!” suggested Amber.

“Here?” squeaked Jade indignantly. “I refuse to sleep anywhere but in a manor, in a spacious room, in a soft bed.”

“Jade,” said Amber in her gentle voice, “it’s late. We’re not going to walk for hours to reach the next manor house. What would we say? ‘Yoo-hoo, it’s us!
It’s three o’clock in the morning and we’d like to sleep here. Of course, we won’t tell you our names, or anything about ourselves, because you might be our enemies and anyway, it’s completely acceptable to turn up at people’s homes at three a.m. wanting to stay overnight, isn’t it?’”

Jade glared at Amber. “I will not sleep here,” she repeated, pronouncing each syllable slowly and distinctly She tried to come up with a convincing argument. “Besides, if we were told to leave and watch out for unknown enemies, it’s because it must be dangerous around here.”

“Not necessarily,” objected Opal.

“Yes, it is!” insisted Jade. “We’re not supposed to turn back, and we’re certainly not to stay where we are. We must find out what this symbol means as quickly as possible.”

Still dubious, Amber thought for a moment, then announced, “I know a small farm about an hour from here. It’s very remote: an old woman lives there alone with her cats and her chickens. We could sleep in the stable. She’ll never know we’re there. We’ll be safe.”

“A stable! What next?” fumed Jade. “My dress will get all creased. And anyway, we’re not going to find the meaning of the symbol in a stable.”

“Why not? The old woman knows me, and even if she doesn’t trust anyone any more, she’ll answer my questions. In the morning, I’ll go and see her as if I were paying a polite visit.”

“And you’ll tell her about us? Forget it!” said Jade curtly.

“Of course not! I’ll pretend I’ve just arrived, and I won’t mention you. I’ll tell her that my mother died and that she drew this symbol before she passed away. I’ll draw it for her and ask her if she’s seen it before.”

“Basically, you’re going to feed her a big fat lie!” crowed Jade. “I like that! But what if, afterwards, the old lady talks about it? What if our enemies find out we’re looking for the symbol? Or what if the old lady is our enemy?”

“There’s no danger of that,” promised Amber. “She’s not completely in her right mind any more, and she lives cut off from the world. Listen, we’re wasting time — shall we go there?”

“No, no, no!” Jade stamped her foot angrily. “I don’t want to! It’s out of the question. Look at my jewels! Look at the way I’m dressed! Think about it — can’t you understand that I’m not a peasant girl who sleeps in stables!”

“We’re going,” Amber decided.

“No!” said Jade stubbornly. She couldn’t bear having anyone stand up to her.

“Opal, what do you think?” asked Amber.

As was her wont, Opal had stayed out of the argument. “I agree, let’s go,” she replied. “And if Miss High and Mighty doesn’t want to come, she can just stay here.”

“I am not high and mighty!” cried Jade furiously. “And to prove it, I’ll come!” she blurted out.

She bit her lip, irritated at giving in like that to someone else’s wishes. And to think she was going to have to sleep in a stable! But her pride prevented her from going back on what she’d said.

Opal rolled her eyes.”So, finally, you’ve changed your mind? We really could have done without all this!”

Unable to think of a stinging reply, Jade shot her a withering look.

“Stop!” demanded Amber firmly, stepping between the other two girls. “We have to leave.”

Without protesting further, Jade and Opal fell in behind Amber. They walked swiftly, taking care not to dawdle, and said nothing more, lost in their thoughts. Jade tried to find a way to humiliate Opal. That village girl, thinking she was above Jade! It was intolerable! Jade trembled with suppressed rage. And on top of that, she would have to sink to sleeping on a farm. She felt like screaming, like hitting Opal, but the night was already too dark and what lay before her was too uncertain for her to lash out in that way.

For her part, Opal was wondering about the symbol they had to decipher, those enemies lurking in the shadows, and what the future would bring. She sensed that something was awakening inside her — an interest in her new existence. She had been relieved of a burden: for her, leaving home had been like leaving a prison, even though it had been a comfortable one. For too long now, she had felt herself trapped in a boring daily routine, in the certainty that tomorrow would bring nothing different. Her present freedom opened the door to a new life for her. She was going
to discover the world, confront a danger she knew was not far away. She was neither excited nor afraid. She was curious: at last she would discover what “living” really meant.

As for Amber, she could think only of her mother. She saw once more her protective smile and heard her kindly voice, her merry laugh. She remembered the tender moments they had spent together, and in her mind’s eye she saw her mother’s plain face, marked by so many sorrows and too few joys, before her as if it were an icon. Her mother had lost her husband, carried off by a terrible illness, and she had never truly recovered from that blow. Amber had had to weather that loss as well, but it had been easier for her, as she had never really loved that boorish and brutal father who’d paid no attention to her at all. And she had been so young when he died, she hadn’t actually understood what was happening. Today, however, everything was devastatingly clear, and now she had to accept this suffering, atrocious as it was. A few tears trickled down her cheeks. She could hear her mother’s voice: “Be strong, be strong …”