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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/980688-Circle-of-Thorns-Chap-1-Rev-1
Rated: 13+ · Novel · Fantasy · #980688
Had she slipped back in time or was it just a dream or something more evil...
(A special thank you to Drake, who keeps pushing me on)

CHAPTER 1 (the edited version)

          The books with their stories stood lined on the shelves, their voices silent with the covers shut. A young woman stood behind the desk, her brunette hair hanging across her face as her liquid blue eyes darted from one book to the other. Her slim figure was dressed in black slacks and a yellow v-necked sweater. She had been told more than once it was not a color that suited her. But out of defiance and a sense of independence she wore the sweater at least once a week.

          It was Faith's turn to check in the returned books after surviving one of the busiest days they had in a long time. Maybe it was the weather turning sour and no one wanting to go outside or venture off to the movies. Whatever the reason she was tired and anxious to head home. Rushing through her routine, she hurried, checking in the various stacks of returned books, sorting them in piles that related to each other.

          The job as a librarian was perfect for her. As a child, as soon as she had been able to understand there were stories hidden on the pages of books she had to have them read to her. As she got older no book in the house was ever safe. They always found their way to her room. Most nights were spent hidden under her covers lost in mysteries or romances, wanting to know if the heroine was rescued and did true love win out over evil. Then it became a way to hide from the world around her--the lost lover, the lost adventures that she couldn’t seem to find.

          Tonight, no matter how much she rushed she felt she was slower than usual. Finally the last book was in her hands and it was baffling her. It was leather bound appearing to be very old. Opening it she found no reference numbers for the library or the libraries name stamped anywhere. Turning the pages she looked at the fine script written on the yellowed pages.

          Odd, she thought, I wonder who left this here? Laying it aside to deal with in the morning she grabbed her coat and headed for the door.

          "Dang, may as well take it home." She murmured to herself.

          Glancing at the clock on the wall, she hurried out the door locking it before running to catch her bus. Throwing herself down very unladylike, Faith let herself relaxed for the shop trip home. Staring out the bus window she watched the cars and shops speed by till her stop arrived.

          Leaving her seat she slipped out the back door and ran up the steps to the apartment building. It was in the older part of Seattle, on one of the ills. Pushing open the main door to the building she stopped and peered in her mailbox. Empty as always.

          With a deep sigh she headed for the stairs. No way was she taking the old rickety elevator. It always shook and rattled its way to each floor jerking so hard at each stop that she was sure it would jar her teeth out.

          Reaching her floor she unlocked her apartment door she was greeted by Skeeter, her old tomcat. He had been with her forever it seemed. He stared up at her with his green eyes then rubbed along the side of her leg, his purr echoing off the walls of the room.

          "Hello ol' fellow. Glad to see me?" she knelt scratching his ears. Getting up she tossed her backpack on the couch, then hung her coat. Picking up her pack she pulled the strange book out, curiosity was worming its way though her.

          “I'll have to take this back tomorrow. Surely it belongs to someone." Gently she ran her hands across the cover feeling the softness of the old worn leather, not knowing that as she did so the book had claimed her.

~~~


          The rest of the week passed by slowly with no inquiries about the book even though everyday she left it at the check out desk. She would watch as people came in but no one ever seemed to notice that it was there.

          It was the weekend and with both days off Faith waved to her co-workers grabbing the old book and headed home. The weather had turned cold again, the sky opening raining sheets of water while lightning danced above the rooftops, lighting up the sky. She was drenched by the time she made her way to the bus stop. Thankful for a quick ride, she was soon in her apartment, flipping the light switch on.

          Nothing. She tried again, just to be sure it wasn’t a bulb blown.

          "Dang it!" She could hear Skeeter’s welcoming purr but she wasn't sure where he was. "Candles! Now where in Hades did I put them?" She made her way through the darkened room to the kitchenette and yanked open a drawer a drawer in frustration. Feeling around she pulled out a small candle then the matches. With a flicker of light she was able to see where the other candles were.

          "Well Skeeter, there will be warmth.” She watched the flames as they slowly rose up. It wasn’t long before the room was aglow from the flames and the candles.

          Faith curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace pulling the book out of the pack. The storm continued outside as she examined the cover. "Hmm, there's no title," she murmured. "but this picture is exquisite.” It was a circle of thorns delicately done in gold and greens that glowed from the firelight. Turning the book she looked at the spine and found in faint gold print the words, "The Circle of Thorns."

          As before she found herself tracing her fingers across the cover, "Ouch." Something pricked her finger. Blood dripped onto the cover then disappeared. "Strange," she whispered reaching for a Kleenex only to find there was no mark on her finger. "Must be the storm causing me to have the jitters."

          Faith settled back. She’d carried that book home the last few nights never opening the pages. Tonight she felt a compulsion to do so. Lifting the cover she once again noted the fine script, a man’s writing. Faith found herself lost within the pages. It seemed there was a princess whose father had arranged for her hand in marriage to a local lord, a much older lord with the penchant for dallying with all the local ladies. There was the mention of a princess who appeared not to be very prim and proper but one who loved to flirt and dally with men and it seemed she was had been love with another man, a younger man, one closer to her age. Faith continued to read and without realizing it she spoke out loud with laughter in her voice, "Oh, Skeeter she's sneaking off to see him."

          Faith looked up from the book and stared into the fire. "Lucky girl to fine real love," she said. "I wonder if I will ever find it." The cat looked up at her letting out a soft meow. "Yes, Skeeter, you are loved, but…" She continued to stare into the fire her eyes lowering with the heaviness of sleep

~~~


          It was with a start that Faith woke up. "What the…" she stammered as she found herself lying in the middle of a muddy road. The rain was pouring and she was soaking wet. ”Oh gods, where am I?" She pushed herself up only to trip on the hem of the dress she was wearing, landing back in the road.

          Panic seized her as she stared at her clothing. Instead of the slacks she had worn to work she was wearing a long beige gown with several petticoats under the dress. Over that she had on a red cloak with a hood, now covered in mud. These clothes, where had they come from? They look like a costume of sorts.

          Lightning crashed around her illuminating the area long enough for her to see a horse-drawn carriage racing toward her. This was all wrong. There were no horse-drawn carriages in the city where she lived. Those were a thing of the past just as were these silly clothes she was wearing. The lightning struck again showing the carriage drawing nearer whether she believed it was real or not. Struggling again, she tried to get to her feet. This had to be a dream, a very bad dream. She wished she could wake up. She had to get out the way of the oncoming carriage but the mud and water caused her to slip once again.

          Fear overcame her and she screamed knowing there was no way anyone could hear her.

          “Stop!”

          As the carriage drew closer she could see two men fighting. One was driving the carriage; the other was trying to take the reins away from him. The lightning flashed as the carriage continued to get closer. This was all wrong; her mind had to be playing tricks on her. Faith knew if she was dreaming it had to be the end of a nightmare. After all she was about to die, it had to be the end. She waited with bated breath for that moment, unable to move from the ground.

          It didn't happen; instead one of the men leaped from the carriage grabbing her and pushing her to the ground while rolling her through the mud to get them out of the way.

          She was filthy, the hood on the cape had fallen off in the scuffle, her hair was askew and she was covered from head to toe in mud. Afraid to look at her rescuer she sputtered out a "thank you."

          The stranger was silent but offered his hand to help her. She didn't even try to brush off the cloak; instead she stood finding herself staring into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She felt as if she was suddenly drowning as a hidden warmth filled her. Reality struck her as she felt the gentle pressure of his lips on hers. It was as if the lightning from the sky had seared through her body.

          Then he was gone leaving her feeling as if she were smoldering.

          It wasn't moments later that several riders appeared alongside her, their horses circling around her. "There she is," one of the men shouted as he leaped off his horse. The knight forgetting all protocol yelled out at her, "Madam! Your father has been worried sick about you. Where in the hell do you think you were going?"

          Before she could answer Faith found herself sitting on the horse with the rider seated behind her his cloak flying in the wind behind them as they headed down the road. The rain continued to pour around them as they galloped through the countryside. Faith had no idea where she was going. The dream was turning into a nightmare she feared that it was.

          After what seemed like hours they arrived at a large fortress with one of the riders crying out, "Open the gates. We've found the princess."

          Faith sat in dazed silence. Every bone in her body felt as if it had been jarred out of place. She wanted down. The gate opened and they entered in heading through the maze of tiny street stopping in front of a castle. The storm was still in full force, and Faith could only hope that she was coming to no harm.

          The knight who had brought her this far slipped off the horse helping her down, leading her up to the doorway. She never even glanced at him. A gray haired woman appeared, out of the shadows, her hands wringing her dress into a knot. She was no taller than five foot and almost as wide.

          "My lady, you had us all scared to death. Where have you been?" Gentle hands reached out and pulled her inside the doorway. She could only stare at her surroundings. The ceiling was lost in the darkness of the shadows with the hallways dimly lit with flickering torches that danced on the walls.

          Hearing the woman call her “my lady” unnerved her even more. "I'm not ‘my lady’,” she stammered, "I'm Faith, Faith Drummond."

          "Oh, my lady you mustn't talk like that. You know you are the Princess Grace. Now come this way. We'll get you a hot bath and some food,” the woman said.

          "No! No, I need to get home! I need to wake up! I need to get out of here!" Her voice was on the edge of hysteria. She pulled away from the woman trying to get back out the door only to find herself dizzy, the room spinning about her.

~~~


          Light streamed through a window, casting a golden glow into the room that Faith opened her eyes to. Pulling herself up in a seated position in the bed, she stared about the room, taking in everything around her. The walls were covered in tapestries that reached from the floor to the ceiling. Scenes of knights and ladies were portrayed on them. The bed was large, with heavy velvet curtains of red surrounding it. There was a fireplace across from the bed that had a blazing fire burning in it. Her senses were reeling at the sights.

          “Where in god's name am I?” she whispered as she ran her hands along the thick bedspread.

          Slipping out of bed, her feet hitting the cold floor, she walked over to the fireplace noting that she was wearing a long white nightgown. "My lady! You’re awake.”

          Faith turned with a start looking at the older woman standing in the doorway.

          "Who are you?" she asked.

          "Why Lady Grace, surely you must be joking. You know I am Amy."

          "No, I don't know that and my name is not Grace, it 's Faith. I'm not your lady anything! Where am I?"

          The woman looked taken aback at Faith's response, her hands running up to her chest, acting as if she was frightened by the Faith’s words.

          "Oh, my lady you must be running a fever. Get back in bed. Now! I'll get you something hot to eat. That should chase away those bad spirits from your mind." She came over pushing Faith toward the bed. “Now settle back in bed and I will return shortly. Hurry now, before you catch your death of cold.”

          "No, I'm not sick and I'm not going back to bed. Where are my clothes?"

          "Never you mind about the clothes, my lady, just get back in bed. We have to get you well. Your wedding is only a few days away. Lord Rumsey is anxious that his bride-to-be is well. Now you just stay right here. I'll be back."

          "Marriage! Lord Rumsey!" Faith watched as the little woman waddled her way out of the room closing the door behind her. Panic filled her. She had to get out of here. Looking about the room she wondered where her clothes were hidden.

          Slipping back out of bed, she walked over to a huge wardrobe closet, throwing the doors wide open. There she found several beautiful gowns made from silk hanging at one end, the other end held less formal attire of cotton that could be considered day dresses. But Faith's clothes were nowhere to be found.

          Frustrated she slammed the doors shut and headed over to the window. Peering out she let out a gasp, her hand came up to cover her mouth, to keep her from screaming out in surprise. The rain had stopped leaving the sky blue with specks of white clouds. There were children playing on the cobblestone street below the window while horses pranced their way through the crowded streets, some drawing carriages, other pulling carts full of supplies. One side of the window was covered with a huge vine that reminded her of the purple wisteria that climbed the side of her apartment.

          She wasn't sure how long she stood there before she noticed a man leaning against one of the stalls just below her window. He stood staring up at her with a slight smile on his handsome face. He looked to be well over six feet tall with long brown hair. His dress was that of the knights who had brought her here last night. She felt mesmerized and continued to stare back as if she should recognize him.

          "My lady, please step away from the window. You’re not dressed!" Amy's voice held a tone of outrage as she came up behind Faith pulling her back. "Whatever are you thinking? Come over here now! I've brought you something to eat. Once you’re finished, we'll get you dressed. Your father wishes to see you."

          Faith let Amy pull her over to the little table and she sat down. Fear was beginning to be a major emotion running through her. She was about to retort when she thought better of it. She didn't want to be confined to this room because they believed her to be sick, or far worse, touched. Checking over the food, she was thankful to see fresh fruit with some kind of bread.

          I can do this, she thought to herself. I have to do this if I want to find a way out of here. This only happens in books. Or dreams…
© Copyright 2005 Willow Silverwing (deewillow at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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