Nerves of steel. That's what she used to say I had. Nothing would penetrate the barriers. Nothing could penetrate the barriers. But now my fortress was crumbling. Feet pounding on the grubby Manhattan cement … what was I running from? The Academy? The dance? My mother?
I was so used to performing dances choreographed for me. Now as I sprint down the sidewalks, I am performing my own dance. As I twirl and leap and dodge grey figures, and turn here and there, I realise when I stop and pant for breath that I am lost in the wide city.
Circling around, I slowly take in the awkward skyscrapers and dreary bustle of the crowds, fear filling my cerulean orbs. I can feel wetness on my cheeks and I look up, expecting to savour raindrops with my tongue, only to realise that it is my tears that are staining my face.
My energy drained within a few seconds, I crumble on the sidewalk, as the crowd filters around me, ignoring my actions. I can still hear her voice in my head.
"I'll try to make it Summer, but you know how busy we are at the shop now…" "But mum, you promised! I can't believe how selfish you are!"Sobs hitch in my throat, my mind unwilling to acknowledge the loss. I knew she was gone the minute I leapt for my emboité. She used to say something else to me too: the show must always go on. And I listened to her. For once in my life I listened to her.
Fingering the pendant on my necklace, I was startled when a faint voice reverberated through my head.
Laire…follow…The name Laire was unfamiliar to me, but something clicked when I heard it. Trusting my instincts, I waited for another instruction.
Beneath…the mallorn tree…Mallorn tree? I had never heard of that before. But something was nagging me at the back of my mind. A memory? Mallorn tree…mallorn…mallorn…
"Mummy, can I climb the big tree?" "It's a mallorn tree, darling. And it's a special tree because the elves live in it…"It had always been a fairytale game that I had played. My mother would tell me stories of the elves in the land of Middle-earth and about the tremendous battles that had been waged there. I had listened with open ears and eyes as my mother poured her heart out into those stories. I had just assumed that she was a great storyteller. Now I wasn't so sure…
The only mallorn tree I knew about was at home in our backyard. But home was miles away. The train I had taken took at least four hours to reach the Manhattan station. Plus I was lacking in the finance section.
Looking around I spotted a gigantic tree in the park across the street. I was impatient to see what was in store so I rushed across the street, rudely giving the finger to anyone who dared stop me. I was also well aware that I was still in my dance attire and that I would have been quite a sight.
Racing towards the tree, I felt a surge of anticipation wash over me. My instincts were raging with past memories, long forgotten from my childhood. When I reached the aged tree, I gazed at it for a minute, taking in its worn exterior and paling leaves. I could sense that it was in a lot of pain, the pollution of Manhattan wearing it away.
My mother always told me that I had a sixth sense towards nature. I used to tend a garden in our backyard during my free time and in spring it was the most beautiful sight to behold. All the flowers would be in bloom, the vegetable patch would be growing and our enormous tree would provide shade in the scorching sun.
Now I reached out to touch the withering bark, my hand trembling. When I felt its papery surface, I expected something to happen. After all didn't the voice in my head say 'beneath the mallorn tree'? Stopping, I realised how foolish I sounded. I sighed and grasped at the thought that I was going crazy to be listening to strange voices in my head.
Turning around, I was about to step back into the hectic Manhattan streets when I came face to face with a man with long blonde hair holding a dangerous looking arrow at my neck.