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George held the small journal in his hand, his thumb idly rubbing the bottom corner of the cover. It was Elizabeth’s journal. James had been surprised to discover it hidden under his mattress.
George set the book down and reached into his pocket for the little dragon charm he had given to Elizabeth. Aunt Pen had brought it back from Elizabeth’s funeral. Tears escaped his eyes. He couldn’t accept she was gone.
I’ll find you, Cheonsa. In this life, or the next.
George opened the journal to the last page, and read over again what Elizabeth had written.
Dearest George,
It is with extreme difficulty that I write this letter. I can scarcely believe what I’m told. As I’m writing this I hold to the hope that you can not surely be dead. But the horrible pit in my heart won’t go away. Oh, please do not be true.
Edward and James have told me to not believe what the Throckmorten’s say. Edward has gone to London to find you, or to confirm your death.
The Throckmorten’s scare me. A few nights ago they used what had to be sorcery. I’ve tried repeatedly to wrap my mind around it. Did you get the letter I sent regarding that night? If you didn’t, I’ll tell you here about what I observed and felt.
We had been invited to a dinner party, the three of us. No, I should start a bit before that. Remember how I told you I felt like I was losing my mind regarding Mr. Throckmorten in particular? Thoughts invade my mind as if someone, or something was putting them there. Someone other than me. It made a fool of me by making me doubt your affection, and even worse considering it possible that you and Miss Throckmorten once had an attachment. I believe now that was all one of their lies. Miss Throckmorten’s one true statement, which I can compare to what I’ve experienced, and what Aunt Pen has said, is that Mr. Throckmorten wants me.
I think that is why they killed you and Mr. Hodge.
Shortly before the news was given to us, I experienced the worst headache I’ve ever had. I’ve had several headaches over the month, but it was usually upon those words being placed into my head. Do you suppose that was Mr. Throckmorten? Is it possible that another person can use sorcery in England? It gives me to pause to wonder if he is fae like Tristan.
Back to the headache. Edward and James were out, when Miss Throckmorten and Mr. Throckmorten came by. They had an invitation for a dinner party for us. I was very relieved when Edward and James returned home, and they told the Throckmorten’s of our engagement. Never have I felt a blow like I did then. It knocked me out, quite frankly.
We did attend the dinner, and that is what I’ve been trying to get at. It was very peculiar. I thought that since they now knew of our attachment, that attending dinner, however unhappy and uneasy it made me feel, was something I could do. It would be the last time I expected to see them before our nuptials. (Let’s only invite them so they can see how marvelously happy we are together.) Again, the Throckmorten’s twisted the truth, and somehow I’m sure they altered time. After the meal, when the men had finished their port I was told that Edward and James had gone home suddenly. The Throckmorten’s had graciously offered to chaperone me for the rest of the evening and return me home after the guests had left. I was worried, and insisted on going home. Miss Throckmorten took me home. What she told me left me very unsettled.
As it turned out, Edward and James were not at home. I was most distraught. For their part, they had been told I had left. They told me that when the women left so the men could have their port and cigars (dreadful habit), time slowed. The next thing they remembered was Mr. Throckmorten telling them I had gone home.
I wanted to talk to you about this, but I’m left writing this letter. Am I correct in calling this magic? The Throckmorten’s most certainly are magical. It is the only thing that can explain it, unless I have lost my mind. Perhaps I have lost it, and even you were made up? Would the pain I feel be as bad if you were a figment of my imagination?
No, there is no way this is not real. Or that the Throckmorten’s do not have magic. Dark magic.
––––––––
George,
I fell asleep before I finished my letter. Miss Throckmorten is here. We leave within the hour. I don’t want to go with them, but I must. I fear for my brothers. Yet, I have my first glimmer of hope. Adelaide told me that you had not taken my unicorn. That means you didn’t have it on you when you died. Which means the Throckmorten’s took it. If they lied about that, perhaps they did not identify your bodies. I cling to this hope.
I hope you’ll take care of my brothers. Also, give Sarah Jane my love. I will attempt to send word to Tristan of my whereabouts. I dare not write to Sarah Jane directly. I do not want to draw attention to my brothers. Adelaide promised to kill them if I do not do exactly as she says.
Forever in my heart,
Elizabeth
George closed the journal and pressed it to his lips. Closing his eyes, he wished that wherever Elizabeth was, she would know he was thinking of her. He would find her.
There were two realms to search. The mortal realm and the Spires. Edward had hired a Private Investigator to try to trace Elizabeth on the Continent. So far, no news. That didn’t come as a surprise.
Tristan’s father, Eldon, and Queen Lorilla of the Elves had sent out heralds to look for any sign of Elizabeth. The only land that they could not search was Dragonspire as Prince Valkoor had closed their borders when Simon and Hwa Young were given their titles. George could not enter through the Way to that land alone. He would need someone from Dragonspire to bring him across, and none of Dragonspire lived in Moonspire.
Tristan had thought it would be best if George brought Edward and James to Moonspire. It was of no surprise to George that both Edward and James refused. They would come once they had either found Elizabeth, or her body. George opted to go between Moonspire and Pendington.
Time passed painfully slow. As the months passed by, George became more positive that if Elizabeth was alive, she was in Dragonspire.
Somehow he needed to get there.