Chapter Twelve - Trip to NettleHelm
In the Shadowrealm, the in-between place, where light was not exactly light and the darkness was a brownish haze, Helena, Bronze Sister of BeetleHollow waited. She brought herself back from the message of hast and fortitude she had sent to Griegar and considered her plight. She had not expected to be surprised by one of her sisters. Normally there was a physic tie that held them together, an unseen conscious path for communication. Once Helena had decided to protect the children from what lay before them, she had severed the physic tie, but held on to a small thread in order to keep one step ahead of her siblings. Bathsheba had, in some way, caught on, although Helena was sure her sister had not expected such betrayal. What Helena had done was the deepest crime against her family. Even her tenacious golden sister was not that foolish.
Yet, now that the veil had been lifted, there was no turning back. Bathsheba would gather the remaining sisterkind and follow her, and if they caught her again unaware, it would be death for sure.
Helena was roused out of her thoughts by the whimpers and sniffs of fright from the two small children she'd saved.
"Do not cry," she whispered gently. "You both have great work to do. We must be off. You want to see your family again, do you not?"
The two children nodded, but otherwise remained voiceless. Helena could not fault them for their fear and uncertainty. This situation should never be thrust onto the shoulders of those so young. Nothing, however, could be done about that now.
"Please follow me," she inisisted to the small ones. "We will find refuge with the faerie kind of NettleHelm. The Elderseer knows what must be done next."
With a little encouragement, she brought the two children to their feet and lead them into the brownish haze of the Shadowrealm. Hast was imperative, she reminded herself. She was sure that her sisters would only be a few steps behind, and her betrayal would quicken their steps.
Everything lay in the balance. On the shoulders of small children, she thought silently. Yet great things rarely came in form of convenience.
Posted by Happy Potato @ 9/15/2008 04:01:00 PM