Bloodstone E-Book

M.J. Mallon

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Fifteen-year-old Amelina Scott lives in Cambridge with her dysfunctional family, a mysterious black cat, and an unusual girl who is imprisoned within the mirrors located in her house.

When an unexpected message arrives inviting her to visit the Crystal Cottage, she sets off on a forbidden path where she encounters Ryder: a charismatic, perplexing stranger.

With the help of a magical paint set and some crystal wizard stones, can Amelina discover the truth about her family?

A unique, imaginative mystery full of magic-wielding and dark elements, Bloodstone is a riveting adventure for anyone interested in fantasy, mythology or the world of the paranormal.

Leseprobe

BLOODSTONE

THE CURSE OF TIME BOOK 1

M.J. MALLON

CONTENTS

Inspirations

Prologue

Puzzle Piece 1:

Puzzle Piece 2:

Puzzle Piece 3:

Puzzle Piece 4:

Puzzle Piece 5:

Puzzle Piece 6:

Puzzle Piece 7:

Puzzle Piece 8:

Puzzle Piece 9:

Puzzle Piece 10:

Puzzle Piece 11:

Puzzle Piece 12:

Puzzle Piece 13:

Puzzle Piece 14:

Puzzle Piece 15:

Puzzle Piece 16:

Puzzle Piece 17:

Puzzle Piece 18:

Puzzle Piece 19:

Puzzle Piece 20:

Puzzle Piece 21:

Puzzle Piece 22:

Puzzle Piece 23:

Puzzle Piece 24:

Puzzle Piece 25:

Puzzle Piece 26:

Puzzle Piece 27:

Puzzle Piece 28:

Puzzle Piece 29:

Puzzle Piece 30:

Puzzle Piece 31:

Puzzle Piece 32:

Puzzle Piece 33:

Puzzle Piece 34:

Puzzle Piece 35:

Puzzle Piece 36:

Puzzle Piece 37:

Puzzle Piece 38:

Puzzle Piece 39:

Acknowledgments

Self-Harm Disclaimer and Help

Next in the Series

About the Author

Copyright (C) 2021 M.J. Mallon

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2021 by Next Chapter

Published 2021 by Next Chapter

Edited by Emily Fuggetta

Cover art by CoverMint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author’s permission.

To my lovely mum and dad thank you for your unfaltering belief in me, for my stimulating and extraordinary childhood and adolescent years, and your continued love and support through more recent times.

INSPIRATIONS

The Curse of Time series is inspired by the Corpus Christi Chronophage clock in Kings Parade, Cambridge and Juniper Artland’s Crystal Grotto in Wilkieston, Scotland: The Light Pours Out of Me, by artist Anya Gallaccio.

Anya Gallaccio is a British artist born in 1963 who creates minimalist installations working with organic matter. Anya Gallaccio: The Light Pours Out Of Me – Jupiter Artland

Both creations were intended to be beautiful but unsettling. On first encountering the clock and the grotto, I was overcome with conflicting emotions. The chronophage’s disturbing nature characterised by the grasshopper’s pincer sharp teeth continues long after the grotto’s initial strangeness.

These are incredible visions of creativity and well worth a visit. The above photo depicts the grasshopper of the chronophage gobbling time. Photo courtesy of—Dr John C Taylor, OBE.

The Corpus Christi Chronophage is a popular tourist attraction located on Kings Parade in Cambridge, UK, and is one of the most incredible creations I have ever seen. It was invented by the esteemed inventor, Dr John C Taylor, OBE, who I had the pleasure of meeting in September 2017. It was an extraordinarily inspiring moment, and one I will treasure forever.

Who would have thought I would have the opportunity to spend time with one of the greatest living inventors of our time? This intriguing gentleman is also a pilot, adventurer, photographer, architect and philanthropist. His striking invention, the Chronophage clock was one of Time’s Best Inventions of 2008. Dr Taylor invested five years and £1 million in the Corpus Clock project, and a team of two hundred people, including engineers, sculptors, scientists, jewellers, and calligraphers were involved in its creation.

Also, I was thrilled to be invited to a Horology Hour online talk…on Midsummer’s Day Jun 24, 2020, with Dr. Taylor. It was fascinating!

Find out more about Dr Taylor, OBE, here: http://www.johnctaylor.com/the-chronophage/

And on my blog here: https://mjmallon.com/2017/09/17/poetry-inspired-by-the-dragon-chronopage-colleens-weekly-poetry-challenge-no-50-haiku-tanka-haibun-voice-watch/

PRAISE FOR BLOODSTONE—CURSE OF TIME BOOK 1

This delightful book will appeal to teens and young adults who love stories filled with magical crystals, dark family curses, and mysteries waiting to be solved around every corner. Each chapter leads you on a journey of discovery where Amelina earns the right to use three wizard stones to reset the balance of time and finally break the curse that holds her family captive. A captivating tale! Author Colleen Chesebro

This is a totally different genre for me, but this year I have been reading books by so many exciting new authors that I wanted to give this book a try. This novel would be great for teenagers, or young adults and it follows the magical story of teenager Amelina as she steps into a world of crystals, magic and wonderment. There are some likeable and not so likeable characters and both are really well written. The book weaves a story of the main character learning new skills and you see her personal growth throughout the story. Nothing is what is seems and you want to find out how Amelia will use her enchanted gifts and learn who she can trust. A book packed full of intrigue, believable characters and poetic verse. Author Lizzie Chantree

This is a brilliant book for young adults interested in magic, supernatural, paranormal, fantasy and myth. I found it highly readable and the author's imagination is phenomenal, as is the fluency of her language and the dazzling way she describes the curious events and characters in her story. I loved the idea of Esme, the girl trapped in the mirror. Author S C Skillman

An intricate fantasy novel with unique supernatural and magical elements which serves as a highly entertaining read. I had a great time reading this novel and exploring the magical world of Amelina full of magic crystals and enchanted mirrors.Author, Editor and Book Reviewer Heena Rathore P.

At its core, this is an emotional tale about a young girl figuring out her identity, learning who to trust, and discovering there is more to the world than the tangible things she's experienced in the first one-and-a-half decades of her life. Magic Mirrors? Mysterious appearances? Letters that cannot be destroyed? Puzzling trust? What's a girl to do when she's followed by two strange boys in the park, only to realize something darker is beginning to happen? Mallon explores the fears in a young girl who wants to break out of her life but doesn't know where to turn. She's unsure about trusting friends and family. Ryder, who saves the day, might actually not be the best thing for her... safety... sanity... security. Can she fight the feelings burgeoning around her? Author James Cudney

This magical young adult story is brimming with fresh imaginative ideas avoiding tropes often associated with fantasy. I was impressed with the unique vivid visual descriptions which brought both the settings and characters to life and the wonderful standard of writing throughout the story. A magical mystery unfolds for the main character Amelina, who makes discoveries during the plot, so we can enjoy seeing her grow in confidence and skill. The story involves complex content which was difficult to follow initially but becomes more understandable as the story develops. The introduction of the antagonist, Ryder, really helps us to root for Amelina. He is well written, and I enjoyed that he wasn’t given the typical look of a baddie but rather slowly and disconcertingly reveals his darker side, inserting himself between Amelina and her friends. I can see this being the start of a fabulous young adult series and hope there are more books to come!Sarah Northwood Poet and Author

Amelina is written so well. There is a part of her that all of us will recognise and emphasise with. At that awkward age where nothing fits and at the same time you feel as if you can conquer the world. Darkness creeps in slowly in the form of Ryder who at first seems the answer to all Amelina desires, or is he? Author Adele Marie Park

The overall world-building creates a wonderful, spiritual atmosphere. There’s a bit of poetry at the start of every chapter, a nice touch which leads us into the action. The story bravely tackles issues of mental health and self-harm, but in such a sensitive way that it can only help improve understanding. Author Richard Dee

Amelina is a teenage girl whose world has been turned upside down by a curse within a world where magic is hidden and most don’t seem to know of its existence. In fact, it seems she’s a descendant of a line of magic-wielding enchanters who have a special relationship with crystals. But with this curse, her father is time-ravaged, a girl is trapped in her mirror, and her family is falling apart. There are a lot of unanswered questions come the end of the book, so be on the lookout for more in the series. There are mentions of delicate issues such as cutting and anorexia, both handled with care, and a séance, but I’d recommend this book for older teens and people who love magical stories that involve power within crystals, curses, and unexplainable happenings. Author Rachael Ritchey

This is a wonderful YA fantasy read. It's very different from others I've read and I say this in the most positive manner. One way or is unique is through the use of original short poetry at the beginning of each chapter providing a clue to the chapter content. It is very well done. I do love originality. The whole work has a magical feel about it which draws the reader in with a yearning to learn more about all of the characters and their plight. My favourite characters are, Esme... The girl trapped in the mirror, and Shadow, the black cat. These two characters alone were enough to keep me rooted. Meanwhile, on the serious side of things, there are so many issues going on in this work in addition to that of dealing with a dysfunctional family. One's familiarity will be tested and emotions may arise. That aside, when you add magic, a black cat, and a guitar and music into the mix... What is there not to love about this work?Author/Reviewer Kevin Cooper

Amelina is an indomitable heroine who will not rest until she solves the mystery and sets the world to rights. The device of magic crystals as a source of magic is novel and works well. There are loose ends that are clearly available to be addressed in future episodes of this series. As a precursor story that is relatively complete in itself, … as an introduction to the storyline and invitation to read on. MJ Mallon is not afraid to broach the risks that young girls on the cusp are subject to in these unruly times. Both physical violence and dangerous sexual attraction are broached in this tale. Poet Frank Prem.

Beautifully written and poetic fantasy novel that perfectly sustains mystery and drama throughout the pages. The characters are very vivid and the world is rich in detail and atmosphere. Marjorie is excellent at painting imaginative and believable scenes with words and magic. A fantastic debut! Looking forward to her next book. Author/Illustrator Alina Surnaite

PROLOGUE

Most people would call our existence strange, but this is more than that; this deserves a headline. We’re not spectacular enough to feature on the national or international news, but we warranted a column in the local newspaper headed by seven not so lucky words: Missing Father Returns After Weird Aging Phenomenon. I’m glad that our short-lived fame died and the paparazzi, (what a joke,) got bored with us. Now we can get back to the day to day living if you can call it that.

We live in a typical suburb of Cambridge in an untypical house. It’s no bungalow, the floors just go on and on, and so do the rumours about us. When I say we, I mean our strange extended family comprising mature, tantrum-prone Mum, Dad (alias: old man before his time), teenage me, the most stable of us all (I think), and self-harming Esme, who isn’t my sister but might as well be. I could write a whole book devoted to her alone. Oh, and I forgot to mention our permanent house guest, Shadow, a black cat of indeterminate age and parentage who arrived one day and never left. The rest of the inhabitants of our household (except perhaps for me and Shadow, although his status is open to debate) are dysfunctional, weirded-out characters.

I have to cope with a lot (and that’s an understatement), so I resort to painting, rock-and-roll, collecting crystals, and writing songs and poetry. I enjoy writing haiku, a Japanese form of poetry with three lines and some syllables to count. It soothes me. I write Tanka too; adding two longer lines at the end, which soothes me more. Each poetic puzzle I jot down serves as a clue for less afflicted folk to decipher what the hell I am talking about.

So, what am I talking about? The trouble is I don’t know; I’m still muddling through. Although I expect it’s a cry for help (a yell), combined with me dissecting the details about Mum’s life, Dad’s existence and his disappearance, Esme’s imprisonment, and Shadow’s ability to appear and reappear at a moment’s notice. And that’s saying nothing about living in a house that feels like a living being!

Yes, I joke to stay sane. That’s a lot to process (sorry), and it’s only a fraction, a haiku tidbit, so let’s keep it simple but poetic and start with a view.

A view, I jest not; I saw this sky through my kitchen window today…

PUZZLE PIECE 1:

THE INVITATION

Opportunity,

An unexpected invite,

Such a mystery,

To explore and discover,

A hidden cottage of light.

I found it to be a mystifying situation. An unnatural stillness seemed to linger after many days of storms. Today, the sky reminded me of a painting. It appeared too perfect, too bright, too still, a picture landscape with no beginning or end. Instead, the vault of heaven spread out toward an endless grey forever, as if seeping around the edges of an untamed watercolour bleeding into the rest of the day. Even so, the sight filled my heart with promise, a ray of hope in an otherwise dull morning.

The quietness of my contemplation came to an abrupt end. I heard the sound of an envelope crashing through the mailbox. I jumped at the clatter. The letter landed on the floor as the sound of a thousand crystal chandeliers echoed throughout the house. I rushed to retrieve the envelope and turned it this way and that. I couldn’t find an address label and wondered if the note had been hand-delivered. Who could this message be for?

I stood puzzling over this peculiar circumstance when out of nowhere my name: Amelina Scott appeared in bold writing. I watched wide-eyed as the final character of my surname was spelled out in a delicate font. I tore the dispatch open and inside I discovered a card printed on the finest paper with gilt edges and embossed calligraphy. There were few details, just an instruction to visit:

Crystal Cottage, River Walk, Cambridge, and the following added at the bottom as an afterthought: R.S.V.P—Not required. We promise to be welcoming when you arrive. When you’re ready, you’ll discover us.

I shook my head in disbelief. Nothing good ever happened to the Scotts, so this invitation might have looked magical, but surely it must have been nonsense. Weird messages from unknown sources counted as dubious junk mail, the way I looked at it.

I grabbed the envelope and attempted to rip it into pieces, but it wouldn’t tear. With a mind of its own the envelope curled its edges in protest. I searched in a drawer until I found scissors and tried to cut the invite. That didn’t work either. My hand ached, but the invitation endured intact as if mocking me.

Frustrated, I tried to cut the invitation again. A sputtered cursing sound filled the room even though I was alone. On my third attempt, I tore into the card with success. (I think it let me.) And once again, I perceived a noise, an angry murmur, and then nothing. Quiet descended in the room, so I threw the torn parts into the bin.

Finally satisfied that the annoying issue with the strange invite would no longer plague me, I brushed my hands together and picked an apple out of the bowl on the kitchen counter, polished it on my jumper and then took a bite. In no time my hunger had abated, and as I chucked the core towards the bin, I registered a chuckle. I stopped, my feet rooted to the ground as a feeling of certainty filled my soul. I knew what to expect. I have no idea how I did, but I could see the image in my mind, the invitation had reformed. The invitation was playing games with me! I peered in the rubbish, and there I saw the envelope, connected in one perfect, unblemished piece.

‘What the heck?’

I picked up the frustrating item. This time I took no chances. I cut it into tiny postage stamp-sized bits and left it on the counter. I didn’t have to eat another morsel of fruit to observe what happened next. The invite laughed. It knitted itself in quick succession in front of my eyes. My heart hammered a staccato beat in my chest. Even though I lived with weirdness every day of my life, this strange envelope and its contents had begun to faze me.

Fazed or not, I decided I’d had enough, so I threw the wretched invite across the room. It responded by doing a merry jig in my lounge. It sang: ‘You can’t rip me up! I’m alive. Open up your laptop! Open up your laptop!’

I tried to squash the irritating envelope with my foot, but it kept dancing around me singing the same refrain over and over again. By now I could have throttled the envelope and its companion the invite in my urgency to get them both to shut up. I ran upstairs to my bedroom to retrieve my laptop. As I stumbled up the steps, I glanced over my shoulder. I couldn’t believe it, but the card and the envelope pursued me, cartwheeling up the stairs.

I sat on the edge of my bed and warily opened my computer. As if the card and the envelope recognised my actions, they collapsed into a crushed silence on the floor. Remembering the specified address, I typed in an internet search looking for the name, River Walk, but before I could find the location, a bunch of strange hieroglyphics appeared on the screen, followed by a more detailed message:

You’ve been chosen to visit the Crystal Cottage. Please bring an open mind. Be Patient. The cottage will find you. Follow your dreams, R.S.V.P. Not Required. The Crystal Cottage, River Walk, University of Cambridge, City of Learned Magic and Gifted Spirits.

I scratched my head. What an extraordinary message. I didn’t know what to make of it. The envelope answered by dancing another jig as if it already knew my answer. In a split second, the card folded itself into an assortment of shapes and pointed an origami finger at my bedroom door.

‘Go! Go!’ it yelled. ‘You’ll find magic and Krystallos light in the mighty cottage, thrilling power and answers aplenty!’

‘You better not be teasing me, Mr Origami Finger—magic, thrilling power and Krystallos light sound exciting and fun!’

Bursting with curiosity, I hurriedly dressed. I had to discover more about this Crystal Cottage business. Shadow trailed after me, slinking toward the stairs, twitching his whiskers, knowing something had excited me. I patted his sleek black fur. He rubbed himself around my legs, purring with delight.

Slipping into the kitchen, I snatched an energy bar and placed it in my pocket. I rushed, throwing my coat and scarf on without a second thought. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied my camera hanging in the closet. I grabbed it as I slammed the door behind me, leaving my soulless home behind. With sure footsteps, I followed the pathway that led to the river, leaving Shadow alone.

As I walked and half ran down the path, my mother’s words of advice flooded back to me, ‘Don’t walk along the river on your own—it’s dangerous.’ I knew it was an unlikely thing to say in such a quiet suburb of Cambridge, and yet it made me shiver. I chose to ignore the echo of my mother’s shrill voice pounding in my thoughts, yammering nonsense. In fact, her bossy arguments made me even more determined to go. For months, I’d dreamed that I might escape. I welcomed this chance to find this mysterious Crystal Cottage. Nothing could stop me.

With each step forward, I sensed that the promise of the morning had been met; it couldn’t have been a more delightful day. The sun shone, with a stunning brilliance. I guessed my escapade would prove to be one of those magical days that would inspire the darkest of spirits.

At first, my footsteps were marked with a heavy tread, but they became lighter the further I roamed away from my home. After a short while, I thought I heard footsteps behind me, but each time I looked around, I could see and hear nothing. My mother’s words of warning drummed in my head, becoming louder and louder. I screwed my eyes tight, gritted my teeth, and continued forward.

The footfalls started again, coming closer and closer. Picking up my pace, I rushed ahead. By now my breath escaped in brief bursts of rising panic, catching in my rib cage. I knew I had to face it, to confront whatever dared to tail me. I swivelled and my body turned, but my vision refused to follow. Peering down at ground level I sought the source of the sound. There, twisting around my legs, I found the welcome sight of Shadow’s gleaming green eyes.

I laughed a thankful giggle of relief, stroking Shadow’s glistening fur. ‘Shadow, you rascal, you’re spooking me. I thought you’d stayed in. Go,’ I said, pointing down the path toward home.

Shadow gave me a disapproving look but followed my advice and turned tail, emitting a short, sharp meow. I gazed at him guiltily. No wonder he didn’t want to go home. I didn’t blame him. I yearned to escape the confines of my home too.

I paused and smiled. The momentary interlude with my cat had reassured me for a moment. But those heavy footsteps kept playing on my imagination. My senses continued to work at a fever pitch, picking out every single rustle of grass, and each whisper in the breeze. I walked all the way down the narrow pathway to the river, listening and searching for the Crystal Cottage, but no sign of it transpired.

Mr Origami finger hadn’t told me I’d have to wait, but the words of the message, ‘be patient, the cottage will find you,’ repeated in my thoughts. It was odd, but I sensed that the cottage preferred to remain hidden today, concealed from the maker of those strange footsteps. I sighed. I had no choice—I would have to be patient. I walked on, accompanied by my frustrated thoughts.

PUZZLE PIECE 2:

RIVER PATHWAY

The word forbidden,

Has a certain quality,

That draws me to it,

Like a long winding pathway,

With unexpected delights.

I continued to wander along the Fen Rivers Walkway where usually a few random dog walkers and over enthusiastic joggers crossed my way, but today I saw no one. My eyes sought out but were repelled by the fork in the route ahead. I glanced to the right and marvelled at the bright lights that seemed to tempt me to walk toward the city centre. To my left, a sombre darkness led to the neighbouring village. The river that flowed within the banks of the shadowed side appeared stagnant, the dark murky colour resembling an oil slick. I shivered in the shadows while noting the contrast in the dappled sparkling sunlight, rich with goodness beckoning from the other side.

Even though the shadows disturbed me, I couldn’t help but find them fascinating. I snapped photos of the dancing sable-coloured silhouettes on the pathways and the trunks of the trees. I resumed my walk and noticed a gentle dappling of darkened markings which appeared to my left. Glancing in the far distance to the right, a narrow boat on the river caught my eye. Adjusting my camera lens, I zoomed in. I photographed the boat deck filled with patterned plant pots which extended a sunny welcome to anyone who passed by.

Questions swirled in my mind. I wondered who lived there and if the people living on the houseboat would describe themselves as happy? The cheerfulness of the scene seemed to suggest they were, but I knew from experience that hidden below the surface it could be different. The strangeness I had sensed while in the shadows took a while to leave me.

I had taken about twelve images using the disparity between light and darkness to good effect. I acknowledged this success, but with a glance at my watch, I realised I must make my way home.

I paused and turned, stepping over to the pathway entrance. From the corner of my eye, I spotted two lads who I’d never seen before. The boys hesitated to the left of the trail as if they were hiding in the far reaches of the deepening shadows. I observed as they scrutinised my movements, their eyes never leaving my form. An uneasy feeling crept over me. I glanced over my shoulder to keep them in sight. I felt vulnerable dressed in my short skirt and tugged at it to lengthen the material, but my legs remained on show, bare and exposed. A niggling protestation echoed in my head: ‘You should have listened to your mother’s warning and stayed away from the river pathway...’

I exhaled, and the voice in my head quietened. I focused on the lads. They had a threatening air about them, and with mounting tension in my muscles, I watched them stride towards me. The taller boy had a dark mop of unruly hair and leering eyes that unnerved me. His friend’s hoodie obscured his face, and I couldn’t see his features. His presence created a thread of fear in my mind.

Not wanting to appear weak, I strode up the pathway as I headed towards the train tracks. The route seemed to rise to meet my bare legs, and my fear shifted into overdrive as the shadows morphed into beings as if they had taken on their own personality. I swallowed hard and realised the darkness had become like phantoms, their ferocious blackness looming over me like monster bites snapping at my feet. This route had no alternative way home. I had to continue. I had no choice but to keep moving.

The two lads trailed me. I turned back and cringed when I saw their blank eyes surveying me. The surrounding air had grown silent, except for the ferocious pounding of my heart, echoing like a drum. Behind me, I heard their whispering and sniggering. I shivered, and fear clung to me like a shroud. I couldn’t shake the feeling they could sense my anxiety.

‘Like your sexy legs.’

‘Yeah, that short skirt really suits you.’

I swallowed hard, trying to choke back the uncomfortable praise from the boys. I walked faster, and my breathing increased with the quickness of my steps. I heard their approaching footsteps quickening, getting closer and closer.

As soon as I reached the tracks, the shrill whistle of the local train screamed, startling me with the abrupt sound. The barriers came down, thundering into place and bringing the three of us to a standstill. The train’s sudden appearance had stopped us from budging an inch. I stood motionless, too scared to move.

The tall boy sniggered, ‘Saved by the train.’ His eyes trailed over my body.

His friend’s cruel laughter jarred my nerves. The train thundered on down the track spewing gravel on the road.

I could take no more. I ran. The boys raced after me, and as hard as I tried to outrun them, I lagged behind their speed. In a matter of seconds, they caught up with me. The tall boy reached me first, pulling at my arm halting me. I attempted to pull away, but he moved so close to me that I could smell the stench of his breath lingering like a sickly smudge on my face. I gulped down short, panicked breaths. Fright hammered in my chest and longed to find a refuge. My hands shook, and I didn’t know what to do.

The boy with the dark hair pulled me towards him as he grabbed my camera strap. ‘Nice camera you have there, give us a look.’

His eyes drilled into mine. I felt panic rise in my throat. ‘No,’ I replied clutching my camera to my side. I shook my head in defiance. No way, would I let these two take my camera. I planted my feet firmly on the ground.

The tall, dark-haired boy gestured to the other lad. ‘Come on, Mitch, stop standing and gawping. Get her to hand it over.’

Mitch lurched towards me and grabbed the camera from my shoulder. I turned and struggled, holding on to the strap with all my might. That’s when I noticed his eyes. They were bright but unfocused, just dark orbs staring at me. Startled, I wondered how his eyes didn’t appear as if they belonged to him. I stared closer; in the pupils of his eyes I saw a momentary black shadow. Shaking with fright, I struggled to stand my ground, but I fought back. I gripped the camera strap to my shoulder, tighter, holding it in a vise-like grip.

At that moment, I heard a rustling in the nearby grass. Mitch let go of me, startled by the noise. I turned, still clutching the camera to my side as I observed a young man who appeared out of the shadows near the edge of the path. His appearance caught my attention because he wore black jeans and a faded black tee-shirt washed so often that its original colour had all but vanished. His strange eyes sought me out. I stood gazing into two of the strangest eyes I had ever seen. One shone black as the richest smeared ink while the other glowed green and reminded me of the lushness of a meadow.

‘Are these two bothering you?’ He rushed toward me, but his question temporarily broke the spell of his mesmerising gaze. I gaped at him, tongue-tied; I couldn’t think of a word to say in reply.

The two lads stared at his extraordinary eyes. I noticed that for a moment, they appeared lost for words, too, spellbound by the newcomer’s presence.

‘I’m Ryder,’ he announced, the reassuring tone of his melodious voice flowing, like the gentle caress of a river.

‘What kind of name’s that?’ jeered the taller boy, awakening from his silence and crashing into the discussion with his harsh words.

‘A name you’ll remember, won’t you, Will?’ replied Ryder, standing tall, his legs spread apart, dominating the ground at his feet with a show of strength.

‘Yes.’ Will appeared confused and dumbfounded by a dazzling light. He pushed his dark hair off his forehead and scowled. ‘Hey, how come you know my name?’

‘That’s for me to know and for you to find out.’

‘Yeah, I’ll find out, all right. Such a weirdo,just look at his eyes,’ said Will, laughing and pointing.

Mitch joined in laughing too. ‘Yeah, and listen to his posh-boy accent!’

‘Thanks for the compliment. Posh weirdos are far more interesting than idiots,’ replied Ryder.

‘Funny posh-guy, huh? Why are you even here, weirdo, wacko eyes?’ asked Will.

Ryder remained silent for several moments. I continued to stand, my feet rooted to the ground as I watched the scene play out before me. It looked like Ryder’s brain ticked away processing how to respond. I couldn’t imagine how he would handle this situation.

When he finally replied to the boys, Ryder chose his words carefully, even though his answer seemed to be addressed to me.

‘I often take this pathway.’ Ryder spun on his heel and scowled at the lads. ‘You never know what treasures you might find along the way.’ With a glance towards my face, he scrutinised me as if his piercing eyes gazed into the soul of a priceless jewel. I shivered under his steady gaze. His powerful stare continued to search for a response. When I didn’t reply, he softened the tone of his voice and asked, ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

‘Yeah,’ I replied, but my knees were knocking. I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear trying to appear nonchalant.

‘She’s fine; all we wanted to do was…’ Mitch struggled for a moment as if he couldn’t quite remember what he wanted to say, ‘to see her... photos.’ He pointed at my camera, speaking to Ryder for the first time.

I felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere. I noticed the two lads’ eyes had lost their glassy quality, and no more shadows invaded them. They focused on Ryder and on me as if they were noticing us for the first time. This odd experience left me speechless, but I had to find out what it all meant. The strangeness of this situation shook me to a guarded watchfulness.

‘You scared the hell out of me,’ I said, edging forward, scuffing my shoes challenging them to say more.

‘Sorry I don’t know what came over me,’ replied Will, appearing genuinely surprised. He scratched his head.

‘And me,’ remarked Mitch, appearing confused. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, shrugging his shoulders.

‘Leave her alone. She doesn’t want you leering at her, and she doesn’t want to share her photos with you,’ said Ryder. He stood tall as if defending me against my aggressors.

‘Hey! Who says we were leering? We were just hanging out. Bet you’re the one who’s hoping to get all up close and personal with her as soon as we’ve left,’ said Will. His leering grin twisted, lopsided.

‘I hoped to make her acquaintance,’ replied Ryder, staring at the boys. ‘What of it?’

‘Acquaintance? Oh, you’re so almighty stuck up, posh-boy,’ said Mitch, laughing with his friend, his eyes returning to their former glassiness.

‘We better leave you two to get acquainted,’ added Will, his sarcastic voice mimicking Ryder’s posh accent. He pointed his finger at Ryder and me.

‘Yes, you had better,’ retorted Ryder while peering at the boys as if he wanted to force his thoughts into their minds. I continued to stare and noticed a dark shadow cloud Ryder’s face. I acknowledged this subtle yet powerful moment. When his eyes darkened, I swear they flashed thunderous daggers at the lads. Ryder’s face locked into a fixed expression as if he prepared to battle. His body became rigid, and his muscles tensed. I stepped back as I observed the hard ground beneath his feet crack, extending in a black shadow as he moved towards the boys. My hand went to my mouth, and I screamed.

PUZZLE PIECE 3:

RYDER WALKS ME HOME

It’s a certainty,

Guys like Ryder don’t appear,

Every single day,

Weep as you will, but it’s true,

‘Cause he’s lush and forbidden.

I stepped back and stifled my scream. The trembling of the earth continued beneath my feet. I glanced down in horror as I watched the crack grow, spreading tendrils of darkness in an eerie shadow.

I tore my eyes from the trembling ground and glanced at the two boys on the other side of the fissure. Shock and fear registered in their eyes as they met my stare. My heart pounded in my chest, sending a shot of adrenalin through me. I moved as far away from the shadowy cleft as possible, my feet moving with no direction from my mind.

The lads took refuge in glancing at their feet, moving backward from the advancing crack as if they’d thought the strange shadow would swallow them up. I found it odd, but they didn’t run. Instead, Will and Mitch hardly dared to breathe. They stepped slowly, stealing away from the edge. Before long I watched as they became two indistinct shapes far off in the distance.

I felt my body relax. The quivering stopped, and the ground felt solid beneath my feet again. I took a deep breath and managed a faint smile. ‘Thank you, Ryder.’ I could feel the heat of a pink tint colour my cheeks.

‘No problem, it’s my pleasure,’ he replied. He turned to face me, and with an elaborate bow, his face lit up with a confident smile as his eyes met mine.

I grinned back and chuckled when I realised Ryder reminded me of a princely actor. I thanked my lucky stars he had crossed my path. I shuddered to think what might have happened if he hadn’t come by when he did. I felt unsettled by that pathway where the shadows seemed to come alive. Those boys were weird. I shook my head, trying to get the image of their blank eyes staring at me out of my head.

A residue of uncertainty remained. Those shadows lingered in my mind, resurrecting buried memories from my thirteenth birthday: an imprint on glass, a charades card, and a young man’s beguiling voice bewitching me. I shivered, feeling the coolness of the air. Glimpsing up at the sky, I noticed that grey rain clouds were gathering.

I looked over my shoulder at Ryder. ‘I better get back. It’s going to rain.’