Henderbell- the Shadow of Saint Nicholas Read online

  I quickly jumped to my feet and unscrewed the frame, picking up the paper by its edges. More speckles of light were in view, moving around the paper’s surface, crawling to the opposite side of the paper likes ants.

  “What’s wrong?” Ava stood up, alarmed. “Did you see anything else?”

  I held the paper by the fire and flipped it. It was as if the flames in the fireplace had the power to order the glimmering moving dots to trace another drawing. “Do you see it?”

  “I do,” she replied. “Do you think it means something?

  The picture depicted the same tree from the backyard, sketched in golden lines, the ground drawn with charcoal. There were four red handprints on its bark and the word Henderbell written between them. I tucked a hand in my pocket, feeling the strange note inside.

  “Come with me.” I ran to the stairs, drawing in hand.

  “What? Where?” she asked, grabbing Grandma’s bright blue slippers from under the couch.

  “I think I know a way to find the door again.” I ran up a few steps, treading through the snow-covered rubble from the roof. “Careful with all this stuff on the floor,” I said, glancing back at her, snow piling on my shoulders.

  She stood at the foot of the stairs, staring as if watching a horror movie.

  “Tell you what,” I said. “You walk ahead of me. I’ll go behind you to make sure nothing sneaks up on you.”

  “Okay,” she mumbled, her breath steaming out of her mouth.

  She leapt over the pieces of wood, avoiding the scattered shards of glass as she made her way up.

  “Hey,” I said once the both of us were up the last step, “go put on some warm clothes.”

  “Where are we going?” A frown found her face.

  “Into the storm,” I replied.

  “What, we’re going back out there?”

  “You have to trust me.” I showed her the drawing. “We have to touch it. See? It’s the tree from the backyard. The four hands on the bark—well, maybe those are our hands. Maybe that’s how we’ll find the door again. This could be a clue.”

  “Enzo, even I’ve seen enough movies to know this could be a trap.” She scrunched her face.

  “I mean, what other clues do we have? What else can we do? And after seeing those things—” I winced at the haunting memory of the creatures “—who knows what else we’re going to find. And they did walk through a door on the tree. You saw that, right?”

  “I did,” she replied, her face displaying her inner battle with her thoughts.

  “This could be it,” I said. “Trust me.”

  She nibbled on the corner of her lips and whispered, “Okay.”

  I folded the drawing, tucked it in my pocket, and walked into my room. I grabbed the only heavy hooded jacket I brought. It was blue and had two pockets. I put on my snow boots, a black beanie, my gray gloves, and rushed out.

  Ava had on a bright pink coat, yellow snow boots, blue gloves, and a white beanie over her head.

  “Are you afraid of what we might find on the other side of the door?” she asked once we were at the foot of the stairs.

  “I’m more afraid of not finding our grandparents.” A shudder followed.

  “Well, at least now we know magic is real,” she mentioned as we entered the kitchen, most of the snow melted over the threshold.

  “Maybe not the best way to find out,” I retorted.

  “At least we did.” Her lips pressed into a line.

  Fear gripped me at the image of the tree, the Christmas lights wrapped around its branches bouncing with the wind. My hands reached into my pockets; in one a mysterious parchment, in the other a magical drawing.

  Another layer of snow spilled over the kitchen floor once I slid the glass door open. It was as if the tree stared at me, harboring an all-consuming evil. If I was right, I feared what we were going to find on the other side. But an echoing thought whirled deep in my mind. If magic was real, what other stories and imaginings existed?

  We stepped under the storm, snow up to our knees.

  The wind blew harder, the snow piled with my every breath, and the colorful bouncing lights ahead triggered more questions. Why did the creatures kidnap them and left us behind?

  “Alright,” I said, the tree in front of me. “On three?” I removed my gloves and wiped away the layer of snow that had settled over the bark.

  “Okay,” Ava answered with a shudder as she exposed her bare hands.

  “One, two, three.” My palms touched the rough cold surface. Ava followed my act.

  A thin golden line appeared across the bark, drawing the shape of a doorway. We jerked our hands away from the tree and quickly put our gloves back on as vines sprung around the door, acting like hinges.

  “No way,” Ava said, a reddish hue coming from the Christmas lights reflected on her face.

  It was like being inside the most twisted of dreams.

  I stepped closer and clutched the bumpy surface, pulling the door open. In front of me was a passageway stretching into the dark.

  “Are you ready to do this?” I asked.

  “No,” she answered. “I’ve never been around magic. I don’t know what to expect.”

  CHAPTER 7

  The door behind us slammed shut. Darkness and silence settled. The air was damp, the ground moist, and my heart seemed to be competing in a race.

  “Enzo?” Ava’s voice echoed.

  “I’m here.”

  My hands trembled, Ava’s ragged breaths a melody in my ear.

  I waited for a source of light to appear—something that could reveal our surroundings, but there was nothing.

  Ripples appeared in the darkness, like pebbles thrown on a lake. They stretched above us, forming a dome, our reflections now on display before us. The darkness thinned like drifting fog, the unseen slowly replaced by a wintery forest. My boots were buried in snow, my breath steam. In front of me were tall trees, their branches drooping down due to the snow clinging to them. Streaks of purple and orange painted the sky.

  “Holy crap.” Behind was the eerie tree from the backyard—the doorway nowhere to be seen, the Christmas lights gone.

  “Where do you think we are?” Ava’s breath was smoke.

  “It’s not like I’ve been here before.” Fear was replaced by curiosity. Did I rejoice at the world I found inside a tree? Did I revel in the fact that magic was real?

  The sound of fluttering wings traveled through the air. From the woods emerged winged creatures, flying in our direction. I blinked several times as they drew closer, making sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks.

  “Do you see them?” Ava asked.

  “You bet I do.”

  Their brown wings were like a moth’s, full of patterns and lines. They resembled tiny humans, only they had no eyes, nostrils, or lips. Their faces were smooth and empty. They ignored our presence as they flew by, darting toward the sky.

  “Were those…fairies?” Ava asked, observing the now distant dots.

  “Impossible.” My heart raced. “You think that’s what those were?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen butterflies that look like that back home.”

  “Well,” I scratched my head, “we did just find a door on a tree.”

  She chuckled, surveying our surroundings as if trying to find reason.

  The chiming of bells cut through the air, growing louder with my every breath. A jolt of adrenaline shot through my body as Ava and I backed into each other, my eyes searching for the source of the sound.

  Hovering snowflakes appeared from the woods. They followed the wind, organized like a flock of birds. The strange sight quickly approached us, coming to a halt just a few inches away. They spun in the air and formed the shape of a human face.

  “Who are you?” demanded a croaked voice.

  Reason left me. Did I reply? Did I try to engage in conversation?

  “Can you talk?” it insisted after my brief silence.

  “What…are…you
?” I asked.

  “Don’t talk to it.” Ava pulled on my jacket. “We don’t know what it is.”

  “It?” The hovering particles of ice formed a frown. “I have a name. Doopar.”

  The snowflakes melted, forming the shape of a girl while dripping on the ground. First appeared brown boots covered in mud, then a purple coat draping to the knees. A red scabbard clung to the black belt around her waist. A shudder escaped my lips when her purple eyes appeared. Pointy ears stuck out from her braided fair hair, the back dropping to her waist.

  “She looks like one of those action figures you used to have from that medieval game you liked,” Ava mentioned.

  My cheeks flushed.

  “What is medieval?” Doopar pulled her brows together. She stared like we were a bunch of poisonous insects about to sting her. “Is that a weapon? How do you play this game? Who are you?”

  “No, no,” I said. “Medieval like the time period. When people lived in castles and—”

  “People still live in castles. I’m not sure what you mean.” Her fingers laced the hilt of her sword. “Who are you?”

  “There’s no need—”

  A gasp replaced my words as she unsheathed her weapon, its tip pointed at us.

  “Maybe this will help you answer faster,” she said, my heart racing in my chest. “Who are you?”

  “Hey, hey, there’s no need to point that thing.” I threw my hands in the air.

  “Then answer the question.” She stepped forward. “Who are you?”

  “We actually ended up here because our grandparents were kidnapped…” My voice trailed off, certain the story would get Ava and I killed. But then I looked at her and realized madness might actually be embraced in this place.

  “Kidnapped and…” She cocked her head. “I’m losing my patience, boy. Are you enemies of Ghenthar?”

  “Enemies? No, no. And yes, yes, yes they were kidnapped by two strange beings.” My hands clenched into fists. “This cloud came out of a globe and took them. The creatures walked through a doorway on the bark of the tree behind me. It’s insane, I know, but—”

  “What did they look like?” She seemed alarmed at my words. “These beings you speak of?”

  “Tall, no eyes, with thorns around their heads,” I replied. “Please, don’t kill us. It’s the truth. I swear.”

  “So you’ve seen the Shadow Spirits.” She frowned. “How did you get here? Are you from across the ocean?”

  “Across the ocean…no,” Ava said, the palm of her hands facing her. “There was a door on the tree and that’s how we got here. Please don’t kill us. They also have my best friend.”

  “You came from the other side of that tree?” Doopar’s right eyebrow arched up, her posture stiffening.

  “Yes.” My hands trembled. “And then we saw these fairies flying from the woods.”

  “What are fairies?” Doopar asked.

  “I don’t know what you call them.” I shrugged, hoping my words had the power to disarm her. “They had wings. They were flying. They looked like tiny people on wings.”

  “Do you mean neomers?” If her eyes could speak, they’d probably tell me how insane I sounded.

  “Sure,” I said. “Neomers. We saw them and then you showed up. I swear.”

  I let out a sigh of relief when Doopar sheathed the sword back into its scabbard. “What are your names?”

  “Enzo and this is Ava.”

  A frown followed our answer. “Is this your first time in Henderbell?” She rested her hands on her waist.

  “Yes—I mean, yes.” I struggled to find words to answer. Her beauty was enchanting and intimidating. “It’s…it’s also the first time we’ve heard of it. I found these—” I quickly retrieved the parchment and drawing from inside my pocket “—at my grandparents’ house before walking through the door on the tree.”

  The objects received a confused stare. “And you’ve never heard of Henderbell until now?” she asked.

  “No,” I replied.

  “I’ve seen this handwriting before.” She grabbed the parchment from my hand with a scowl. An uncomfortable silence lingered as she analyzed it. “And that?” She cocked her head at the drawing, handing the parchment back to me.

  “I drew the picture on one side. I’m not sure who drew the picture on the other,” I said, folding the parchment, putting it back in my pocket.

  “I’m also familiar with that drawing,” Doopar revealed. “Someone gave it to me a long time ago.”

  “So, what, this drawing belongs to you?” I asked.

  “One of them does,” she answered. “I’m not sure why it made its way to you. But that doesn’t matter. The man who gave me the drawing left a long time ago.”

  “Left and went where?” The drawing joined the parchment in my pocket.

  “Albernaith, your world. Earth, as you call it.” Her purple eyes shimmered like precious stones.

  “Who taught you how to use a sword?” Ava’s gaze was fixed on Doopar’s weapon.

  “My father,” Doopar replied. “He said all girls needed to learn how to kill their enemies with a blade. It took him a while to come to terms with the fact his little girl wanted to join the elven guard of Henderbell, but once he did, he helped me hone my fighting skills. He was an amazing warrior.”

  “I like that.” Ava was transfixed by the sword. “Can I touch it?”

  “Ava.” I grabbed her arm. “Are you—”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a woman holding a blade.” Doopar unsheathed the weapon. Its handle was maroon, with two antlers rising from the bottom.

  I released Ava from my grip.

  “Be really careful.” She beckoned Ava closer with a wave. “It’s very sharp.”

  Ava touched the handle, her face reflected on the silver blade.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  Her eyes shifted between my sister and me, a smirk on her lips. “I should take you to the castle before nightfall. It’ll be safer for everyone. And since you have that drawing and that parchment, I have no choice but to believe you are who you say you are, but someone in the castle will know better than I.”

  “And who are we again?” I asked.

  “Just two humans lost in Henderbell.” Doopar tilted her head to the side. “That’s all you are, right? There’s nothing else to your story?”

  “We aren’t lying, if that’s what you’re implying,” I contested.

  “I believe you,” Doopar affirmed. “But like I said, someone in the castle will know better.”

  “What if you’re the one lying?” I pointed a finger at her. “What if you’re an enemy or something?”

  She scoffed. “If this is your first time in Henderbell, then you shouldn’t be worried about having enemies here, correct?”

  “I guess.” I shrugged.

  “If I turn out to be one, you’re free to stay here in the Forest of Nick after nightfall.” My cheeks flushed as Doopar approached me, her eyes cut like piercing blades. “Now if you’re willing to give me a chance, then you might actually have a decent place to eat and sleep tonight.” Her breath brushed my cheeks. She smirked and continued toward the woods.

  “I’m going with her.” Ava darted in her direction.

  “Ava!” I protested. “We don’t even know her. And she just had a sword pointed at us.”

  “I don’t want to freeze.” Ava halted and spread out her arms. “And exactly, she has a sword. We have a better chance of surviving with her. Do you want to hang around in this forest?”

  “How can you be so willing to believe her?” I asked.

  “She’s giving us a chance,” Ava replied. “Maybe we should do the same. Let’s trust the magic we found.”

  ***

  We trudged through the snow-covered ground as denser purple streaks appeared in the orange sky. All one could hear were our footsteps crushing the soft powder. Doopar walked ahead, glancing over her shoulder every once in a while, ensuring we still followed. Ava stared at
Doopar like she’d found a hero. I stared because of her strange power to hold my attention.

  “Why do you turn into snow?” I asked, shifting my head away from a branch.

  “It’s faster to get around,” Doopar replied. “I’m not used to moving at a human pace.”

  “What are you?” Ava asked, her cheeks red from the cold.

  “I’m an elf.” Her words carried a tone of confusion “I think the ears and the fact I told you I belong to the elven guard gave that away, no?”

  “That’s so cool. I never met an elf before.” Ava’s eyes widened. “Where were you born?”

  “In Ghenthar, the city we’re going, the capital of Henderbell.” She leapt over the fallen bark of a tree with incredible agility, landing on the tips of her toes. Ava and I crawled over it like a bunch of buffoons. Our clumsiness earned a chuckle from Doopar.

  “Is Ghenthar a nice place?” Ava continued, wiping the snow from her gloves on her pink jacket, which seemed way brighter when surrounded by piles of snow.

  “It’s all I’ve ever known. But elves were born across the ocean in Lestee. My father was brought here as a slave years ago, along with my mother. We don’t age as fast as humans, so elves were the perfect beings for slave work.”

  “Are you still a slave?” I asked.

  “I was never one. I was born after my kind was liberated. My father and mother served many kings in Henderbell, but died twenty-five years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, narrowing my eyes at a black two-headed owl cleaning its wings with the beak belonging to its right head.

  “It was a long time ago.” Her attention remained on the forest. “One hundred human years equals three hundred for an elf. At least they got to see their people free.”

  “Why are you so eager to help us when you were so skeptical before?” Though I feared the answer to my question, I continued speaking. “You only just found us.”

  “Going by the clothes you’re wearing and the objects you’re carrying, I can tell you aren’t from here, and it’s not in my nature to leave people to freeze to their deaths,” she replied. “So I’d much rather take you to the castle and learn more about where you’re from before making any further judgement.”