InsaneJournal

Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On, chapter 2
For those of you who were around when I made my posting promise, regarding Nanonovel 08. Here is chapter 2.


Chapter Two: The Faerie Ring

Something was dragging me up from the dark depths of sleep. It was warm and comfortable there, I did not want to wake. But it pulled me, terrible consciousness, and dragged me through crushing pressure to sharp, bitter air. I gasped, and woke.

My eyes flew open, and then shut again in shock, in denial. The world I saw was not that of a green-painted room with its grey damask curtains and bookcase in the corner. No, this one was, well, outdoors for starters. What happened to my living room? Unless this is another dream. I pinched myself. Can you dream pain, I wonder? Perhaps it is one of those things that you just don't remember afterwards. In which case pinching myself has just caused unnecessary dream pain, proving nothing.

The Christmas lights are still there, I notice, hanging in the trees. Except that my Christmas tree has gone too, I note, being replaced with huge, leafy things with golden bark and silver leaves. Like those tacky plastic Christmas bouquets that they have started selling in the florist's down the road. Except that these ones are obviously real and could not really be called tacky by any stretch of the imagination. The leaves were translucent, luminescent, beautiful. And the lights were still moving…

I edged backwards from the trees, nervous now. Perhaps they were bugs, like glow worms (oh god, is my tree infested with worms?) or those little plants that glow in the right light, being blown along the branches by the wind.

They're coming closer.

Just as I was about to make a run for it, though I have no idea where I could have run to, I heard a shout and the glowing creatures scattered, disappearing up into the canopy.

'Someone new!' The voice yelled. It was clearer now, the unintelligible sounds had come together into syllables that made sense to me, rather than the senseless noise distance presented. I heard running footsteps, then a figure appeared between the trees. I heard a gasp, and the figure stopped.

I stumbled to my feet, as a panicked cry echoed back through the trees. Who was he (she?) shouting at? Why did she sound so frightened?

'She has no mask!' the figure yelled. I heard more gasps, though their source was not yet apparent to me, then mumblings, distrustful mutterings.

'No mask?'

'Can't be…'

'A stranger.'

'She'll be imprisoned.'

Imprisoned? I grew frightened. Were they talking about me? Imprisoned for what? I had done nothing! What were the masks?

The figure vanished again amongst the golden trees, and I heard muffled, hurried whispering, a single voice raised in anger. I waited in an agony of indecision. Should I run? No, there was nowhere to run to. I was a stranger, as the fourth voice had said, a stranger in a strange land with no means or methods to move forward or back. A dream still, perhaps, but an exceptionally vivid and lengthy one.

I thought for a moment of all those books, all the films and kid's cartoons, where people were sucked into alternate dimensions and stifled a hysterical fit of laughter. My Christmas tree is a time machine, I thought. My living room is a portal to another world.

Just as I was working myself up into proper hysteria, the figure reappeared, this time continuing forward towards me. As the slim form came forward, I could see it was a man, who moved with careful precision as though approaching a wild animal, a coil of rope clutched in his hands.

'It's all right,' he said quietly, his voice taking on a soothing, hypnotic quality with every deliberate word. 'We'll not hurt you.'

He was dressed all in gold, the gauzy fabric covering brown shirt and trousers in a layer of shifting mist. He could easily blend into the trees from even a close distance, I realised. Even higher up, among the silver, he could blend into the branches and the shadows cast by the leaves. This was camouflage, and he was some sort of scout.

I didn't like the idea that I was being 'lulled'. I liked even less the idea that I was subject to some sort of long-distance hypnosis. Did you ever see those people on the television, or in those package holidays, who tried to hypnotise a member of the audience? It never ended well, did it? It always had someone doing something stupid, like pretending to be a chicken or reciting the life history of the hypnotist. In which case the audience is left wondering if the whole thing was some sort of a hoax. Or even worse, people would get trapped inside the hypnotism, Franco the Magnificent frantically clicking his fingers before their eyes. 'You are now awake, you are now awake.' Well, I am awake now, and I am not liking it, I must say. Can you be hypnotised by a dream?

I realised I had drifted as I thought, and the man was now standing right in front of me. I jerked in surprise and he caught my wrists in a move as fast as a striking snake, one large hand folding over both of mine, pinning them together. He looped the rope over both wrists and secured it with a speed that defied struggle.

'We'll not hurt you,' he repeated again. 'I've got her,' he called.

I looked back and forth, twisting to see behind me, wanting to know who was there, how many, where they were all hiding. I hit the earth with a thud as I overbalanced.

'Careful,' the man said, pulling me upright with surprising gentleness. 'We'll get you back safely and then you'll be released, more or less, for the trial.'

Trial? I though, hysteria mounting once more. What trial? What had I done?

People were appearing between the trees. The crunch and snap of leaves and small twigs underfoot let me know that others were behind me. Words flew over my head, scattered snatches of frantic conversation that I couldn't follow. It was all such a jumbled mess, spoken by people who talked much too fast, and had just enough distance to make them difficult to hear.

I gave up on trying to listen and took the opportunity to study the man who was still holding me steady on the forest floor. He was fairly slim, with the carelessly balanced posture of someone who spent a great deal of time outdoors. His short hair was brown, darker than Jamie's, and his eyes were blue. They shone from the depths of a silvery half mask that covered the top of his face. I had never seen anyone wear a mask before, except in the occasional drama or theatre production. He looked as if he had just stepped from the halls of a masquerade ball, from the pages of literature written many years ago. He was a guest of Romeo and Juliet's, a proud sponsor of the Phantom's Opera House. He was not, in other words, particularly modern. On the other hand, I was sitting in the middle of a forest surrounded by trees like I'd never seen before, being tied up by a stranger. I don't suppose that was particularly modern either.

The people were standing all around me now, six in front of me and I assumed there were more behind. They were all dressed the same as the man who had tied me up. Two held bags, from which I suppose the rope must have come. Even these were made of the same translucent fabric, like dappled sunlight on the bark of the trees.

'Two of us will be enough to see her safely back,' said one of the women. 'The rest should complete the circuit.'

'Who should go?'

'I'll take her,' the man said. 'Someone with authority should be there in case we have to give a report. Sam, you stay with the rest of the scouts – we need someone fairly high up here too.'

'Fair enough,' nodded the woman. 'Carrie, you go too. We have enough marksmen to manage any more problems without one of you, and she might feel more comfortable with a woman along.' She nodded at me as she spoke.

I didn't think I'd feel more comfortable under any circumstances, to be quite honest. Still, it was a nice thought, and it went some way to reassuring me that nothing really horrible was going to happen. They wanted me to feel relatively comfortable, after all. That was a good sign, right?

Someone behind me, I assumed Carrie, hauled me to my feet by the back of my shirt. I struggled up from the sitting position, trying to get my balance. My feet had gone to sleep. I managed it though, and Carrie and the man stood on each side of me, taking my arms.

'We'll stay at headquarters after,' the man told the woman, who I was beginning to suspect was Sam. 'There'll not be time to get back and finish our rounds. Would some of you take over? We can sort out reports when you all get back.'

'Can do,' Sam replied, saluting. 'Tell the boss we might be a bit late.'

'Alright,' the man said (I wish I knew his name). 'Come on, we'll get all this sorted out as quickly as we can. Don't pick up your sort very often.'

They seemed to have relaxed now that I was bound, I noticed. Their voices had dropped the careful, soothing quality that they had approached me with. With one on each side, pulling me along, we were also making faster progress than I thought I would have been able to manage, considering the loss of balance that comes with being tied up.

I still stumbled occasionally, and tripped on vines and little pockets of earth that I was moving too fast to see, but my jailers held me steady, and dragged me gently onwards. After a while, I even felt confident enough to just let them hurry me on, and listen to their conversation, carried on over my head (my, but they were tall!)

'Come off it, Charles,' Carrie was saying. 'You know there's laws against this sort of thing.'

'She's obviously lost,' Charles – so that was his name! – replied evenly. 'We have laws for strangers and people who are confused too.'

'Somehow I don't think she would appreciate being incarcerated or deported, especially if she was lost to start with,' Carrie said, a grin in her voice.

My head snapped round, startled. Deported? Deported where? And what exactly did she mean by incarcerated? A jail, a mental hospital? From the conversation, it sounded like they suspected I was a nutcase. Oh, I hoped that wasn't the case.

'Don't worry,' Carrie said, smiling at me. 'It'll all work out as long as you weren't deliberately going against the law.'

This did little to reassure me, but I accepted it regardless, and took the opportunity to examine Carrie as I had Charles. She too was wearing that golden costume, and was carrying one of those small bags. I long bow, presumably made of the wood of these trees, was hung over her shoulder, straps holding it to the bag and the string hanging loose. Like Charles, she wore a mask, hers of a silver leaf pattern, perhaps some sort of pliable metal, that cast itself into shadow in it's careful engraving. It would blend in beautifully up in the treetops. Down here, I wasn't so sure, but perhaps she didn't spend much time down on the ground. I knew little about this society, after all. Finally, in complete contrast to the rest of her, which glowed in metallic silver and gold, her hair was bright, coppery red. Metallic all over, then, but her hair would give her away in moments out here. Perhaps she had to wear some sort of covering if she were going into a dangerous situation. A cloth or scarf or hood. I glanced a little further back; yes, there was a hood almost hidden in the folds of the costume, obscured still further by the bag and bow she carried.

'Nearly there,' Charles told me absently as we hurried along. 'We weren't too far our when we found you. On our way back, as a matter of fact.'

I quickly discovered that his idea of 'nearly there' was very different from mine. It was another three quarters of an hour before we reached any sign of civilisation. At least, that was my guess at the time. I hadn't been able to so much as glance at my watch since we arrived. Still, the sun was still quite low in the sky and I thought it couldn't be anywhere near lunch time, or even mid-morning yet. Around seven perhaps, if it was winter here too. Although, it suddenly struck me that, despite having no coat, or coverings of any sort really besides my jumper, I was not cold. And the outfits my… let's call them guides, shall we? The outfits my guides were wearing were certainly not made for colder weather. If it had been anything colder than very early autumn they would have frozen. Did they have winter camouflage, I wonder?

I had expected this. When I get very nervous I tend to distract myself with pointless questions. Ones that won't help in the slightest. For example, when I had to give a speech years ago in school I began wondering why teachers decided to teach, and accidentally started off my speech, which was meant to be about the importance of friendship, by asking who taught teachers.

I failed quite spectacularly.

And these sorts of thoughts were not making me any less nervous. I tried to focus on where we were going. Tried to focus on footsteps, trees, sounds, my companions, anything but the pointless drifting of my mind. I only partially succeeded. Everything looked very similar here; there was no break or pattern to the trees, and Charles and Carrie's conversation had quickly deteriorated into an argument over someone I didn't know. It was very frustrating.

I was just about to ask how much further we had to go, when we stepped out into a clearing. It wasn't natural, the whole place was too cleanly circular. The inhabitants must have burned it out or cut down the trees in this area. It was wide in diameter, with a large building in the middle made of wood. All the buildings were made of wood, in fact, slim golden beams and woven vines for roofs. Some were slightly different, with roofs of slate, more like I was used to, but most were green and gold and silver. They blended into the surroundings as well as the people did, although their very shapes and the clearing around made it clear that they were not part of the natural landscape. Thin streams of smoke filtered out of the weaving near the middle, where gaps of light showed how the weaving was not as tight, forming a primitive chimney. Perhaps it stopped the rain getting through, or the wind. Although I wouldn't have expected a forest village to need much protection from the elements in a place where the forest canopy formed a natural roof, the trees had been cut back so much here that that protection was gone. The builders had to make their own.

Whilst I was taking all this in, I was being hurried down the centre path towards the larger building. I suspected that this was some sort of town hall, judging by it's size. Otherwise it was identical to the other buildings, which I assumed to be houses. In fact, every house was made exactly the same; the same wood, the same shape, the same sorts of doors and windows. The only discernible outward difference was in the roofs. It was… unusual in a town or village this size.

To my surprise, we turned away before we reached the bigger building, and I found myself ushered down a different path. Charles opened a door to the right, and Carrie turned me with a hand on my elbow, so that I stepped inside first, followed by Carrie and then Charles.

A man was sitting at a desk sculpted from a silvery metal. It wasn't steel and it certainly wasn't silver, yet it had the shine of the brightest silver I had ever seen. The legs were long and slender, and looked incapable of supporting the weight of the man leaning against it, but by some miracle of structure, it stayed up. The solid table area was edged with an intricate swirling design like those in Gothic cathedrals. It looked lovely.

Like all the others I had seen so far here, this man wore a mask. His was of silver, like Carrie's, but carved and sculpted in the same way as his desk. The long strands curving down past his cheeks looked like wide, shimmering tears.

'You're back early,' he observed. He glanced up briefly, then his head jerked back up to stare at me, his pen falling from his fingers to land with a soft chime against the desk.

'Who's this?' he asked. 'Where is her mask?'

'She doesn’t have one,' Charles replied, pushing me towards the seat before the desk. 'We were waiting to get her here before questioning her.'

'Good,' the man said. 'How much does she know?'

'As far as we know?' Carrie chimed in. 'Absolutely nothing. We haven't told her anything, and she hasn't told us. It's all up to you to find it out.'

The man nodded in approval. His eyes were serious behind the silver mask. 'Dismissed,' he said. 'Send someone up to keep a watch on the door, and then you are free to do as you wish until the rest of the scouts get back.'

'Thank you, sir,' they said together.

'Now,' the man said, turning to me as the door shut behind them. 'I'll release you soon. We just have to wait for a guard to arrive, in case you turn out to be a nutcase,' he flashed a grin at me to show he was joking (at least, I hope that's what the grin meant). 'I don't like keeping people tied up. It makes me uncomfortable. Weird for a head of the guard, huh?'

I nodded, bewildered. Just then, there was a knock at the door.

'By, that was fast!' the man said. 'I'm Bruno, by the way.' He got up and went round to the door.

'You called for a guard, sir?' a voice behind me said.

'Yes, if you wouldn't mind just standing outside the door while I interview this young lady?'

'Yes, sir.' There was a pause, and then the sound of the door shutting again.

'Now,' Bruno came back around into my line of sight and sat back down. 'Are you from around here, is probably the best place to start.'

'Er… no, I don't think so.'

'You don't think so?'

Obviously, this wasn't the anticipated answer.

'Well, I just woke up here. I've never seen it before, and it shouldn't be anywhere near where I live – we don't have forests for miles around. But I can't just have ended up here. I'm still more than half-convinced it's all a dream.'

'Well, ah….' Bruno trailed off. 'That changes things a bit. You seem to be from somewhere a bit further out than we were anticipating.' He looked thoughtful, then called to the door.

'Hey, you out there!'

The door creaked open. 'Yes, sir?'

'Go and get Will, would you?'

'I'll be right back, sir.'

The door clicked shut. Bruno got up and came round to crouch in front of me. I still didn't have a clue what was going on! It was with some relief on my part, though, that he began to undo the knots in the rope.

'I think we can say with absolute certainty that you are neither dangerous, nor aware of our laws.' he told me, fingers picking at the tight knots.

'You got that from 'where are you from?'' I asked.

'You'd be surprised how much we can learn from one sentence,' he replied with good humour. The ropes unravelled in his hands, and he coiled it up, placing it on his desk. I rubbed my wrists, more a self conscious movement than because of any lingering soreness.

'All right,' he said. 'Really, we need to wait for Will to explain this all properly. However, I'll do my best to give you the abbreviated version. This is Alecastle Crossing. The forest is Alecastle Forest. We're meant to guard this place from intruders, not that they crop up very often, I have to admit. Where did you say you were from?'

'Just outside London,' I replied. 'At least, that's where I'm living now.'

'London?' he asked. 'Huh, funny sounding place. Anyway, that's not where you are now.'

'Obviously,' I muttered under my breath.

'You're in Alecastle Crossing. Basically, we've been having a few issues with fairies lately. They keep sneaking across the border and brining back people. Like you. They're not intruders, but they don't exactly belong here either. So if they are actual intruders, we catch them and chuck them back across the border. If it's… let's say tourists, we let them wander around for a bit and then send them home when the fairies turn up. Until then, we'll have to get you aquanted with the local laws.'

'Like what?' I asked, wondering if I could learn a whole new legal system for what I hoped would only be a few hours, a few days at the most, in a magic fairytale kingdom… forest.

'For starters, we have to get you a mask,' he said. 'In this society, it is terribly rude to go without a mask. Like stripping naked and running through the streets, which is why you get hauled away by the guards – that's us – if you do. The last lot who got kidnapped didn't have a clue either.'

'So will Will be bringing me a mask?'

'No, actually. Well, he might, but really he's coming to take some notes and see if he can track down the right fairies to take you back home. It shouldn't be too difficult, and until then you're free to wander around, explore. We can track you down fairly easily if you follow the guidelines. I have a copy here somewhere…' He stood and started rummaging through a folder on a shelf behind the desk. 'Ah well, I'm sure Will will bring one. Do you have any questions?'

As it happened, I had loads. So many, in fact, that I didn't know where to start. I struggled with them all for a few minutes as Bruno waited in patient silence, before I finally picked one.

'Where will I get a mask from?'

Not the most important question, perhaps, but certainly the most pressing.

'We'll send someone in with a few selections,' Bruno told me. 'Though bear in mind that you just have to wear them here. You can take it off it you end up in any of the other kingdoms. We're quite near the border, so if you want to have a look round there shouldn't be any problems.'

I nodded, feeling nervous at the introduction of all these new rules. I opened my mouth to ask another question, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. The guard poked his head in at Bruno's summons.

'Will is here, sir,' he said.

'Send him in,' Bruno replied. 'You can go whenever you're ready. We don't need you any longer here.'

'Another accident, sir?'

''Fraid so. Remind Charles to file the report on your way back.'

'He's already done it, sir. Just waiting for the rest to return to sort out the last few bits of paperwork.'

'Excellent. Well send in Will, we haven't got all day.'

'Yes, sir.' He flashed a grin at me and waved someone new through.

'Will. have a seat,' Bruno said. Will was a tall, gangly looking man with bright green eyes. His mask was a vivid purple, fashioned in such a fashion as to suggest sparks arching out from the nasal bridge. He was dressed in a purple tunic and tan trousers that hung loosely off his slim frame. He was as different in appearance as I could imagine from Bruno and Charles.

He dropped a bag by his feet and dug a notebook and blue pen from inside and braced one foot against the edge of his chair, resting the notebook against his knee.

'Alright,' he said briskly. 'I am Will, and I will be the one trying to return you home. I need you to tell me everything, absolutely everything, that you remember from the time you vanished.'

'Well, it was nighttime and I was just falling asleep in the living room…' I began. I put in as much detail as I could, including everything that happened before I was found. When I finished Will nodded, scribbling the last word with a flourish.

'A pretty clear cut case, this one,' he said conversationally to Bruno, who was nodding in agreement. 'Pine Sprites, almost certainly. This is the third case this month; we have to get them under control.'

'Not much we can do there,' Bruno said ruefully. 'I'm still trying to get someone in from the third kingdom to sort it out.'

'Well the sooner the better. This is generating a huge amount of work for us, and there's n ot exactly just a few sprites to sort through. I'm sorry to tell you this could take weeks,' he added to me, regretfully.

I gave a mental sigh.

'Well, I'd best get sorted out then. Anyone know where I can get a mask?'

'Oh, of course. I brought one with me. You can buy a new one later if you don't like it.'

He dug in the bag and handed a mask over. I turned it over to have a look. It was pale, flexible wood, unadorned and mostly colourless. I guessed the more elaborate ones were for people who could buy them or were in positions of power. It tied with two pieces of dark green ribbon on either side. I tipped my head forward and pressed the mask against my face, pulling the ribbon taut at the back and tying it in a wide bow. On second thoughts, I tied it again, just to be safe.

As I straightened up, both men relaxed.

'That's better,' Bruno said, obviously relieved. 'No offence intended, but it was very uncomfortable talking to you without a mask.' Will nodded.

'Well, I've got one now,' I replied, trying to feign cheerfulness. I was still nervous, confused and more than a little annoyed, but I got the impression that these men were honestly trying to help me.

'What do I do now?' I asked, since neither offered any further thoughts.

'Oh, well normally we get strangers settled into the spare rooms at the scouts headquarters until we either catch the sprites or fairies or whatever brought them here, or until you want to move on. It shouldn’t take us that long, so you might want to stick around for a bit, maybe make yourself useful to the scouts.'

'Alright,' I agreed easily, not knowing what else I could really do. The idea of traipsing off around unknown country didn't really appeal. 'Which way is it?'

'Round the back, third house down the street. The big one. Ask for Carrie, she'll know what to do with you.'

'Thanks,' I replied, standing up. 'May I go?'

Bruno waved me out. 'Yes, yes, we'll get back to you as soon as we know anything.'

I opened the door, smiled to the guard outside who had the guilty look of someone who had been pressing his ear up against the door, and went on down the street. I immediately wondered which way I was meant to go. Which way would take me around the back?

Shurgging, I tried the left, and found a narrow street between two of the buildings. I squeezed through, and came out the other side in a new street. This one was wider, and just as busy as the other had been empty. People thronged around market stalls with brightly coloured cloth roofs, selling vegetables, garments, little carved trinkets and toys for shouting children. A man at an open door nearby was handing out loaves of bread to women with baskets in exchange for thick bronze coins. The smell of warm pastry and honey wafted out.

I turned away from this welcoming scene, reasoning that a scout's headquarters were unlikely to be right in front of the market, and was right. A building, larger than the little shops and houses clustered around it, could only be the place I was heading for. I went up to the door and knocked sharply three times.

'Yes?' The woman who answered the door had a stern, thin face. She looked disapprovingly at me, her eyes flickering up and down. She had the look of a housekeeper, like those ones in old country mansions who shouted at the kids not to touch anything. I couldn't see the top of her head at all, covered as it was in a bronze mask and a hood of woven fabric. It looked like a beak and cap of feathers.

'I'm looking for Carrie,' I told her, unable to meet her eyes behind the slits that served for holes in her mask.

'Who's asking?' she replied haughtily. 'You're not from around here; I can't just let strangers go traipsing through.'

'I'm Sarah,' I told here, feeling my patience, which had held through the binding and the questioning and the waiting, beginning to fray. 'I was sent over by Bruno.'

'Oh were you,' she said, looking me over again. 'Why isn't your mask decorated?'

'I came here by accident,' I told her. 'This is a spare mask someone lent me.'

She gave me a look of disgust, I assume at the idea of going without a mask. 'How?' she asked suspiciously.

'How did I get here?' at her short nod, I continued. 'Apparently I was kidnapped by some sort of fairy. I woke up a few hours ago in--'

'Alright, alright, I don't need your life story,' the woman snapped.

Apparently you do, I thought uncharitably. If she didn't want to know, why should she ask?

'Wait here, ' she said. The door snapped shut in front of me. I stood appalled. How rude! No one just slams the door on a guest. It is the height of bad manners.

A moment later, Carrie opened the door, a look of apology on her round face.

'I am so sorry,' she said. 'Mrs. Wilson isn't very welcoming. Come on in.'

She opened the door wide and I squeezed past. She shut the door behind me and led me down a thin corridor to a warm and sunny kitchen. She put a metal kettle on to boil over the fire.

'Have a seat,' she told me cheerfully. I settled on a wooden seat at a large round table. Carrie took down a canister of what I assumed to be tea, and spooned some into two cups.

'Now,' she set, setting a cup down in front of me. 'I assume Bruno sent you here for a room?'

'Yes,' I said, glad that I wouldn't have to repeat all the explainations.

'Well we've got a few spare rooms at the moment. You can have any you like. Did you find out how long you'll be here.'

'No, should I have done?' I asked.

'No, if they knew they would have told you.' Carrie replied. She paused to sip her tea and smiled at me.

'I tell you what. We'll get you settled into a room, and then check who needs some help around the place. There's always room for one more. That'll keep you occupied until we can send you back. Then tomorrow we'll go over to the mask makers and get you one that suits you a little better than that plain old brown one.'

'Do I really need to do that?' I asked.

'Well you don’t have to, of course,' Carrie replied, 'but that undecorated one automatically yells stranger. I'd change over if you think that you'll be here for any length of time.'

I considered her words.

'Alright. It can't do any harm and I suppose it would make a nice souvenier.'

'That's the spirit!' Carried gulped down the last few mouthfulls of tea and stood up. 'Let's get you settled shall we?'

We abandoned our dirty cups in the sink (I tried not to imagine Mrs. Wilson's reaction) and I followed Carrie upstairs.