Dawn sipped her tea and mustered up the courage to add her own request to their visit. “If it is possible, Your Grace, I would very much like to visit your Ravensblood tree. Jasper tells me it is the original one, and I wish to learn all I can about my unique position to better serve my family.”
It would seem the ocean was in a placid mood today. He beamed at Dawn as though her request pleased him. “When you have had enough of dusty books, ask Figgins to fetch Her Grace. I’m sure Enid would be delighted to show you our tree.”
Once they had finished their tea, which surprisingly was all it took to catch up on forty years of Warder history, they were shown through to a library with vast soaring stacks of books. Narrow catwalks ran around the room to give access to the upper reaches, although ladders weren’t entirely necessary when you had an Elemental at hand who could fly.
“Where do we start?” Dawn asked as her gaze wandered over the thousands of books before them.
Jasper stood in the centre of the room and stared at one wall. “With the one thing we know for certain: the plot against Elizabeth Tudor. We need a full accounting of all the Soarers involved in the conspiracy.”
There appeared to be a chronological order to the books, and it didn’t take long to find those for the late sixteenth century. Jasper selected two large tomes and laid them both on the desk. “These are the testimonies of those involved. Which one do you want?”
Dawn glanced at the two books, so similar with their worn leather covers and gilt lettering. She rested a hand on the closest one. “I’ll start here.”
She dragged the book closer and took a seat. The penmanship was exquisite, but it took some adjustment before her mind could scan the lines of ornate script and old English. It was incredible to her that the monarch who’d reigned so long ago had been saved by the actions of Jasper’s mother and father.
A footman who moved on silent feet brought them another tray of refreshments. No biscuits that might leave crumbs, however, nor scones that might dribble butter over the priceless books.
Dawn read of the group of Soarers who’d plotted to murder Elizabeth and set their own replacement on the throne. What could have been an exciting story worthy of a novel was reduced to dry wherefores and hithertos. Two hours had passed in the peaceful library when one name leapt off the page at her.
“Here.” She looked up to meet Jasper’s curious grey gaze. She kept her finger on the sentence and read it aloud for her mate: “‘Ignatius Hamilton is henceforth sentenced to be executed for high treason. His brother, Francis Hamilton, has been found by this committee to have unclean hands and is banished for a period of two hundred years.’”
Jasper let out a low whistle. “You found it.”
She peered at the words under her fingertip. “What do they mean by unclean hands?”
Jasper rose from his seat and moved to read over Dawn’s shoulder. “That they suspected his involvement, but had no direct evidence. The timing fits, too. This pronouncement was made in 1580, and Francis Hamilton established his family in Kessel a hundred years ago in 1780.”
Dawn pushed the book away from her. “Exactly when his banishment ended. Did your father not say anything?”
Jasper shook his head. “Julian, Lettie, and I were in France at the time. When we returned, it was only briefly mentioned. I suspect my father thought Hamilton had served his sentence. We watched, but made no move against them, which ultimately was our downfall.”
“Do you think Ava was part of the Hamilton clan? She spoke of how your father destroyed her family.” Dawn shuddered to remember the final confrontation with the woman intent on killing the Setons’ Ravensblood tree.
“There might be mention of her in here. Perhaps she was related to Ignatius?” Jasper scanned the pages open before Dawn.
Mentally, Dawn pulled all the pieces of information together. “Then forty years ago, when another assassination attempt was made against our queen, the Hamiltons struck against your family.”
Jasper crossed his arms and leaned his hip on the desk as he regarded Dawn. “Coincidental timing, was it not? Makes you suspect that yet again a Hamilton had knowledge of a plot to remove the queen and then used the opportunity to strike against us. As the duke said, his Warders were busy saving Victoria and couldn’t be spared to assist us.”
“Do we now find the accounts of that incident to see who was involved?” Dawn glanced at the bookcases. It would appear that her day would be spent seated at the desk when she longed to have dirt under her nails.
Jasper leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Why don’t I summon Figgins to find Her Grace? I can find the books, or ask the duke for the firsthand account, since he was directly involved.”
“Would you mind terribly?” Out of politeness she felt she should stay, but how she yearned to touch the most ancient of trees.
Jasper smiled, then strode to the bell pull and gave it a good tug to summon the butler.
Fifteen minutes later, Dawn found a woman waiting for her in the entranceway. She was of a similar height to Dawn, but broad in the shoulders, as though she’d spent many years wielding a sword. Russet hair was streaked with silver, and lines radiated out from her slate-coloured eyes.
She held out a hand to Dawn. “I’m Enid. His Grace said you would like to visit our Ravensblood tree. I will escort you through our maze.”
The women shook hands as men do. The other woman had a firm grasp that could crack walnuts.
“Your Grace—” Dawn started.
“Enid, please. Three hundred years and I’m still not used to being treated like royalty. Centuries ago, Moray and I were simple fisherfolk with only a wee boat.” Enid winked as she kept hold of Dawn’s hand.
“Have you always lived in Dorset?” Dawn asked as they walked out the front door and along the crushed shell driveway. Enid steered them towards one side of the property.
The older Elemental spoke as they walked. “No. We were both born in Lincoln, or Lincylene it was called back then. The Romans had called it Lindum Colonia, but I’m certainly not old enough to remember that.”
Dawn stared at her new companion. “I cannot imagine the changes you have seen in the world over the centuries.”
The scattering of trees became thicker and closer together as they walked, until they trod an earthen path. Dappled light struggled to penetrate the thick canopy.
“The only constant in life is change.” Enid held a branch out of the way for Dawn.
Dawn still struggled to believe that she had centuries to spend with Jasper now that he shared his life force with her. She was sure it would take centuries simply to learn all about the Warder and Soarer history and culture. “If you don’t mind me asking, how does one become the High Warder?”
Enid’s shoulders shook in silent laughter. “In Moray’s case, there was a bit of a scuffle among three Warders, and the poor locals were plagued by earthquakes and floods over several weeks. Once we knocked some sense into the boys, they settled down and had a vote.”
As they turned down another path lined with bright green ferns, Dawn paused. She cast around for a clipped yew hedge like they had in Alysblud. “Where is the maze?”
Enid laughed out loud with a rich throaty noise, and high above, birds cawed along with her. Her slate eyes twinkled with amusement. “We’ve been walking in it for fifteen minutes now.”
Dawn stopped and looked around. At first, she thought they walked through a forest to reach the maze. It had never occurred to her that the forest was the maze.
It was subtle. In places, the trees were so close together even a child wouldn’t be able to slip between them. Other patches were more open where shafts of sunlight and a clear path encouraged one to walk that way. Nodding ferns and spreading violets covered the ground and discouraged shortcuts across their foliage.
At times, they encountered a fork in the worn path, and Enid led them down one side and not the other, although both looked equally well travelled.
Dawn laid a hand on a rough trunk as she stared up through the canopy. “I cannot imagine how long it took for this to grow.”
“Centuries. Oak, birch, and elm were planted around our Ravensblood tree. Millennia ago, this entire area was thick forest. But our predecessors knew it would not always be like that. Over time, they formed the maze by thinning some trees or planting others closer together. Some paths are blocked, others are forked. With the dense foliage, you cannot look up and use the sky as a guide. Unless you know this place, you would soon become lost.” A Cor-vitis glowed over Enid’s arms as she spoke of the forest. Her love for the land and flora flowed over her skin and lit the mystical plant’s markings upon her.
At length, they approached what appeared to be a solid wall made of birches with silvery bark. There was a slender gap in the wall, as though one of the guardians had gone for a walk. Enid smiled at Dawn and beckoned her through.
Dawn stepped between the birches and then stopped. She stood and stared in wonder. The birches made a circle, holding hands to protect the tree within. The Ravensblood was breath stealing in both scale and appearance. It made the three-hundred-year-old tree in Alysblud seem a young sapling by comparison.
The trunk on the Dorset Ravensblood could easily be hollowed out and house a family of four in comfort. Its canopy resembled the ocean at their backs, as though an unseen gardener had trimmed the foliage to echo the waves. It rose up, swooped down, and rose up again in a circular pattern.
The flaming leaves were such deep reds and oranges that they bordered on black and brown. But it was the trunk that drew Dawn and made her mouth gape. Fissures in the bark contorted around knotholes and gave the appearance of an ancient face peering out at the world.
“It has a face,” she whispered as she approached.
Here, in the presence of the old tree, Enid dropped her human form and became the living heart—an amalgam of her gargoyle form and the leafy embodiment of the tree. Her legs were lichen-covered stones that created a plinth for her torso and arms. Vines wound around her body and sprouted bright green leaves. Her hair was a cascade of Ravensblood leaves, packed so tight they appeared to be raven feathers.
As Dawn reached out a hand to touch the tree, she realised that she, too, had changed form. Her hand still appeared mostly human, but the Cor-vitis she shared with Jasper had become a living thing. Delicate, thin tendrils covered her in a pattern that resembled lace. Leaves the colour of sage and mint sprouted along the vines.
When she raised a hand to her hair, she found the Ravensblood tree’s leaves entwined with her locks.
“What is happening?” she asked Enid.
Enid took Dawn’s outstretched hand, and delicate vine tendrils from both of them sniffed at one another. “It’s what the tree does. He pulls out your true nature. Don’t be afraid. Open your heart and mind, and he will show you our history.”
The old woman pressed Dawn’s hand to the rough bark. Dawn gasped as she was connected to the ancient being. Like the tree at Ravenswing Manor, this one gathered her into his embrace. The tree was distinctly a he, not an it. He exuded a masculine strength and the need to protect his family. While the Alysblud tree had shared its history with Dawn, the Dorset tree opened her mind to a higher view.
He was so ancient he didn’t know when he began, only that he had always been. Throughout time, gargoyles and undines had gathered at his feet to play, love, and raise their families. He sheltered them, and in return, they protected him from the storms and flames of salamanders and sylphs.
For millennia he had stood, serene and undisturbed by the actions of humans. Even the lives of Warders were but tiny blips to him, although he mourned the passing of each heart that was carved deep within his own centre.
When he had finished showing Dawn the history around where he stood, he took her on a journey inside. Through his mighty boughs and trunk they journeyed downwards. There at the centre of the earth resided the beating heart of Gaia, their creator. Between the first tree and Gaia’s heart ran arteries and veins that raced towards the surface. Each artery ended at the surface in a Ravensblood tree.
When a sapling was grown and planted, an artery was diverted to connect with the tree. If the Soarers destroyed a tree, the artery cauterised itself and retreated far below. Dawn saw how when their tree had sickened because of Ava, the poison hadn’t penetrated far below the ground. The tree had shut off its connection to Gaia to keep the black rot from infecting their creator and all the other Ravensblood trees.
Dawn raced around the globe, but her feet never moved. Her body became the earth, and a spiritual finger tapped on her skin with the location of each tree. They dotted along her body as, for a brief time, she realised the enormity of what the first tree contained.
His story told, the tree released her. As though she swam in the ocean, a gentle wave pushed her towards the shore. She opened her eyes and rested her forehead on the trunk to catch her breath. Pieces of her had been scattered around the world, and bit by bit, they returned to her.
Dawn dropped to the grass and lay back, gazing up at the canopy, where ravens jostled for the best position on its boughs. She talked aloud to Enid as she made sense of all she had been shown. “They are all connected. It’s not multiple Ravensbloods that guard families the world over, it’s multiple faces of this one tree. They are all joined to the one heart that governs us all.”
Enid beamed and patted her leg. “Now you understand. We are all connected not only to each other, but to Gaia’s heart. Does this answer some of your questions?”
Dawn sat up. The Cor-vitis glowed along her arms and created intricate patterns over her hands. “Yes and no, for what I have seen has created a thousand more. I know why Elementals live so long now. We need the time to learn everything about the world.”
As much as she had just learned, it was only half of a whole. Jasper talked of balance. “Are Soarers the same? Do they have some ancient phoenix that binds them all to Ouranus?”
Enid resembled an ancient rock carving as she sat immobile at the base of the tree. “That is a closely guarded Soarer secret. We have our theories, but we’ve yet to find a talkative Soarer to confirm them. There must be a reason why they build their homes atop hills and closer to the clouds. We do know that the Elemental linked to their phoenix is called their spirit, whereas we have a heart. A subtle difference perhaps, or it might be significant.”
A heart and a spirit. Could you have one without the other?
They sat on the grass in silence. Dawn tried to sort through all she had learned and been shown. Grass tickled against her legs. Like wriggly worms, blades inched along her skin as far as they could reach. Everything here seemed to have a mind of its own.
The sun had progressed across the sky when Enid said, “Shall we go back to the house? I’m sure the menfolk have had their serious conversation by now. Whereas we have only communed with our creator and seen the secrets that reside deep within our world.”
Dawn bit back a laugh as she took Enid’s hand, and the gargoyle hauled her up. Politics seemed so transient and unimportant when you considered the bigger issues that impacted the entire globe they lived on.