“I guess we’re all proven wrong sometimes.” He laughed, and then we were off.
Both terrified and excited, I held onto him as we rode through the early morning light. The morning was warm but with the faintest of breezes. Although I had never been on a horse, nothing could have felt more natural. We rode through forests and clearings, the landscape a blur as we passed.
James slowed the horse suddenly and pulled a black fur-lined cloak out of the canvas bag. He handed it to me and told me to put it on, including the hood.
“Why?” I asked, even though I was putting the cloak on as I spoke. “It isn’t cold.”
“So you’re not recognized and because, trust me, it will get colder.” I couldn’t help but notice that this was the third time that he had asked for my trust.
“But who would recognize me?”
“Just do it, Charlotte, please.” Once again, he sounded as if he was pleading. I was too nervous to argue, so I secured the cloak, pulling up the hood. The cloak was warm and soft, luxurious really, a lot nicer than I had originally thought when he first handed it to me. I was happy to have it when we approached Bellgard. Snow fell lightly as we neared the city walls, and the temperature drop had been sudden. Through the snowy sky, I saw the city before we reached it. It looked like a giant fortress set into a huge mountainside. A castle dominated the landscape.
The sun was in the middle of the sky as we rode through the castle walls, which were enormous, old, and imposing. I tried to look back as the gate closed behind us, but I could see nothing but dense trees. The reality of what I was doing finally hit me, and I realized in that moment that there was no turning back.
Chapter Eleven
Charlotte
“Welcome to Bellgard,” James said, as he helped me down from the horse. He looked excited and was obviously eager to get inside. I tried to take in the surroundings as we walked toward the main castle. I saw a couple of large Ws carved into the exterior walls and asked James about them.
“The W stands for Winthrop.” He watched as I made sense of his explanation.
“Wait, like Monty’s last name?”
“And your mother’s maiden name,” he added. “Your mother and uncle grew up here. This is the Winthrop castle.”
“What? They grew up in a castle?” I asked, shocked.
“I told you that you would find a lot of answers here.” He smiled at me as we walked. “Welcome home.”
I stayed close to his side as we walked through two tall doors and into a large open room. I couldn’t take my eyes off the swords and armor lining the walls high above me. I had never been in such a big room before, or such an old one. Growing up in an historic house, I was used to old buildings, but this was something else altogether. I suddenly felt nervous.
“James, I got word that you were spotted,” a male voice said, pulling my attention from the architecture. “And I see you are not alone.”
“Hi, Father. I brought someone you will be happy to meet, Charlotte Calloway.” James addressed a man who shared the same dirty-blond hair and tall build, but that appeared just a bit too young to be his father. The man looked over at me with a wordless expression and, without warning, James pulled the hood off my head.
The man exhaled audibly. “A spitting image of her mother. I would know those eyes anywhere.”
I took a step back, startled at the mention of my mother. James had told me my mother was from here, but hearing her mentioned so soon surprised me. After a moment, the man composed himself and held out his hand.
“Hello, Charlotte. I am Blake Mendel, James’s father. It is a pleasure to have you here.”
“Hi,” I replied timidly, shaking his hand. I looked over to James for some encouragement. James nodded, giving me a reassuring smile.
Blake seemed to sense my hesitation. “I am sure you must be confused and overwhelmed right now. I’m not sure how much James has told you.” Blake led us into a library that seemed completely out of place in the old castle. Walls and walls of books lined the room, reaching from floor to ceiling. I had seen libraries similar to this before, but not in rooms of this size. Blake smiled when he saw me admiring the room. “A lover of books?”
“Yes, I mean, absolutely,” I told him quietly.
“Charlotte, there is nothing to fear. I know you are frightened, but you are safe here. I assure you, you are safer here than anywhere else.”
I was alarmed to hear Blake talking about my safety as though it were an issue. “What do you mean?”
“You really know nothing of who you are, do you?” He looked at me seriously.
“Of course I know who I am. Charlotte Calloway.” I felt even more confused.
“And what of your family?”
“My family? I’m the daughter of Stan and Emma Calloway.”
“Charlotte, please have a seat. We have a lot to talk about.” Blake gestured toward a large table in the center of the room. I sat down, getting more nervous as time passed. James took a seat next to me with Blake on my other side. “Charlotte, you are in Energo. We are a world not completely different than the world in which you were raised. The thing that makes us distinct is that we are the people of the Source.”
“The Source?” Blake had said it as though it cleared everything up, but it did nothing to illuminate me.
Blake continued, “I speak of the source of nature and the elements. Charlotte, throughout time, there have been women with unique abilities to share and wield the natural powers. These women are called Essences, and each Essence ages slowly until a new Essence comes of age, usually three or four generations removed from the one before. The Essences have always come through one family, and only become an Essence once they have reached maturity. Signs may be revealed when an Essence is as young as twelve or thirteen, but never before.”
I struggled to understand where this fit in my understanding of the world. “But where does this power come from?”
“We do not know for sure, but we understand its importance. Whenever there is an absence of an Essence, we have gone through a dark age of poor harvests and disease. If a dark age continues for too long we become completely exposed and defenseless,” Blake said soberly.
I suddenly remembered that the conversation had started as one about my family. “What does all of this have to do with me?”
“Have you not figured it out?” Blake asked, surprise in his voice.
“No,” I said nervously.