If only, if only, I sing and I cry,
If I were as free as the birds in the sky,
But the guards wait so close,
They're cruel and malicious,
So I cry to myself,
If only, If only
I had been working like a madwoman trying to repair Carrion's old cloak. Finally, I set it aside satisfied he might not hate it. My fingers were red and sore, my back and neck were also sore from the continuous sewing and hunching over my little machine. Despite the situation, I felt rather proud of myself. After all, it's not easy repairing an old cloak with massive holes in it and create an outfit for yourself just stopping for food breaks and short naps. I looked at my work once again.
The cloak was truly startling. Twisting the fabric gave the appearance of small mouths screaming, but only if you got close enough. I shuddered. The mouths screamed and twisted as if trying to escape the very fabric to which they were bound. Even before I patched it up, Carrion's old grayish black cloak had a dark aura around it. Now, even looking at it gave me the creeps; I could barely sleep. I had not even been on the Midnight Isle that long and it was already starting to change me and not a good change either. As for my garment, it was a simple black dress with a corset-like top part. It was enough to blend in, but also enough to get looked at but on this island who knows if getting looks is a good thing. I closed my eyes, today was the first time in a long time when I could get a full sleep and not have to worry about Carrion barging in and asking for his cloak.
A knock awakened me from my peaceful slumber. I got up from where I was sleeping to answer the door but before I could reach it, it opened. Carrion was standing in the doorframe, Letheo by his side as usual. Instantly, I was fully awake. Even though I had seen him twice before, my heart still beat out of control in my chest, nervous of what might happed. Cold shivers rocketed down my spine. "My Lord," I said and inclined my head showing the utmost respect. He looked at me with his cold eyes. "Is my cloak complete?" he asked. "Yes, of course my lord," I answered. Carrion's eyes traveled about my room as he entered and walked past me. As I turned to grab his coat I could feel him looking at me. Taking the cloak off its hanger, I presented it to him. "Ta-dah…" I mumbled and forced a weak smile on my lips. He studied it for a moment before motioning for Letheo to take it. A thin smile crossed his lips. "Very good Marina. I shall have more tasks for you in the future. You may walk about freely in this tower only. I have spies who will not hesitate to report back to me if you do otherwise," he said. I made a pumping action with my arm,
"Yes, well, I'm glad you like it," I said back with a brilliant smile. I could barely contain myself. This might be my chance to escape! I passed Carrion's sewing and I could leave my cramped room! He gave me one last look and left. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at me however.
After he left and I heard the footsteps retreat, I whooped and jumped up and down. My joy was short lived. I soon realized that I might be here the rest of my life. I had to escape. But if only there was a way to escape, not get caught and continue to lead a normal life. I closed my eyes and sighed. "If only, if only…"
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Skeleton baby, oh Sketleton baby
Dancing among the dead
Skeleton baby, oh Sketleton baby
On the dead's mounds you do tread
You scream with the Ravens
And Dance with the Dead
Oh my Skeleton baby, Sketleton baby
You fill me with dread
Carrion was in his study. His cold grey eyes scanned the horizon outside his window overlooking the mines and shoreline his nightmares swirled and slithered in their master's collar; each one whispering a deadly lullaby. A knock interrupted his train of thought. "Enter," he said. A short scaly blue creature entered the room. It quickly bowed but tripped forward clumsily.
"I come to you but as a loyal servant," said the creature.
"Save your breath," Carrion interrupted, "What do you want, Isbet?" Looking slightly taken aback Isbet nodded, took a deep breath and said,
"You grandmother is here to see you." Carrion's mood instantly darkened. The air around him cracked and the entire room got cold.
"I recommended you leave now," said the Prince coldly, frost slithered up his collar and his nightmares cracked and writhed as if in excruciating pain. Isbet scurried out of the room far faster that one would have though possible.
The Twelfth tower was in complete pandemonium. Mater Motely was waiting outside the door for her grandson. Stitchings and other creatures who called themselves "loyal" to the Prince were suddenly no where to be found; all but a few ran away to hiding while Carrion's gruesome grandmother was in their midst. Looking around but seeing no one Carrion opened the gargantuan door.
Mater Motely was sitting atop giant severed hand, sewing. Messy stitches poked out from where the wrist was, black fingernails dug into the ground as the pale bony fingers they were attached to supported the throne Motley was sitting atop. Ghastly guards surrounded her as well as her sisterhood of seamstress. Her dress was made of the skins of her victims and those who tried to oppose her and failed. "About time," she said abruptly. The air around her seemed to drip the venom of her words. Her eyes were like Carrion's, cold and grey. Motely's eyes knew no such thing as mercy or love, but rather of hate and deceit. Many thought Carrion was the most terrifying being in Abarat; they obviously didn't meet his grandmother. She had committed every kind of –side there is,: homoside, matricide, patricide, infanticide, its even rumored that she killed herself and brought herself back using dark magic. "I did not mean to keep you waiting," said the Prince. "Stop you lying. There is something I need to discuss with you," she said. The severed hand on which she sat rotated and started toward the forest cracking as the fingers made their way toward the forest, Christopher at its side.
Grandmother and grandson were walking in the dark forest discussing plans for the triumph of night. "You have a new seamstress," she stated. "Yes, I do. But what does it matter to you?" inquired Carrion. Mater Motley looked up from her sewing briefly. "That cloak. Did she make it?" Carrion nodded looking strait ahead.
"Than she is quite talented; perhaps she will join my sisterhood of seamstresses." Mulled Motley aloud.
"I doubt it. She is too free spirited for your sisterhood," said Carrion.
"I can break a spirit in the blink of an eye. Don't tell me who or who not I can use," said Motley dangerously.
"You gave to me a message stating that I could not do as I please. If I did, you would remove my seamstresses. I choose to do as I please. So it should be of absolutely no concern to you if I find another seamstress," said Carrion, raising his voice slightly.
"You unappreciative boy. I saved you, but I might as well have let you burn for all you've done for me. You forget where your place is," said Mater Motely. The air around her steamed. And soon, she was gone.
Carrion continued to walk throughout the forest. Eyeless pale corpses swung from the trees above talking to one another. "Oh how my children sobbed as I got the ax!" said one. His voice was raspy and deep. "My children were the reason I got the ax, I killed them!" replied another. Their ghostly laughs filled the dark midnight air. Their rotting stench was enough to bring a strong man to his knees in weakness. Ravens cawed followed the Prince as he continued to walk. His thoughts were interrupted by the clashing of blades. Peering though a gap in the trees he saw a sight that improved his mood ever so slightly.
Two heavily armored brothers were fighting. One was wearing a helmet with a blue feather; the other one was wearing a helmet with a red feather. Due to a little seed of deceit Carrion had planted, he was now seeing the results. One ducked as the other swung the sword close to his head. They fought on and on, calling each other the foulest of names. A woman, presumed to be their mother stepped in to the ring. "My sons! Stop! Stop!" she shouted and begged. The brother with the blue feather turned his head, it was all the time the other brother needed to pierce him in the heart. Caught in the heat of battle, the remaining brother slew his own mother as she threw herself on her sons carcass. Just as she rolled to the ground he fell to his knees. "What have I done?!?" he screamed to the heavens. Sobbing hysterically he fought a loosing battle with the ravens who were trying to grab a bite of the fresh meat. Carrion stepped out into the clearing. "He didn't really set fire to my house, did he?" asked the man. "No," said Carrion. "I did," he finished. The man screamed, picked up the sword and proceeded to stab himself. It had been a long since Carrion felt this good.
When he returned back from his walk, news of his new seamstress had spread like the fire that killed his siblings. Curious glances were sent his way as he made his way up back to his study.
Carrion was thinking. Perhaps this girl, Marina, could be useful. He mulled over the past few days. One thing was for sure, he had to keep a keen eye on his grandmother. The last thing the Dark Prince needed was for her to be controlling his every move. His sickly white nightmares swam lazily throughout his collar gently stroking his skin. Taking a breath Carrion rose and stood at his window. He could make out the outline of the Pyramids of Xuxux to his left and the dim line of Jibarish to his right. Perhaps this girl could be of more use than was presented. He closed his eyes and remembered it was her ship who he had ordered to run over just a few days earlier. Perhaps he could use her, that is, if Mater Motely didn't get to her first.
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Sometimes when I see you,
I want to reach out and cry,
Sometimes when I see you,
I pray you'll be mine
Knock, knock, knock someone knocking on my door snapped me out of my dreamlike thoughts. "Come in," I called. I made sure I was extra close the lamp. This thing was heavy and could easily knock someone out. However, it was not Carrion or Letheo who entered my room, but rather a funny looking creature. Standing up, I pointed the lamp at it. "Who are you? What do you want?" I demanded. Sighing the creature stepped in my room and said, "Nobody says 'please' anymore do they?" he sighed. "Sorry," I replied.
"It's fine. I'm sorta used to it. The name's Isbet. I found this on the beach and I'm pretty sure it's yours it even says 'Property of Marina'," he said as he hauled a dripping suitcase in front of him. Isbet was about 4 ½ feet tall with blue scaly skin, yellow eyes with red irises, and a set of horns that could make a ram feel jealous. They curled over and over again over his pointed ears. A square snout with two small fangs that protruded and a black nose; a reptilian tail stuck out of his backside. He walked like a human, on two very large feet attached to two very short legs that were barely visible under a layer of pudginess. He had small arms also. Had Isbet not been so horribly scarred he would have been a very cute little thing but with the all scars he looked sort of frightening. I smiled, "Thank you!" Isbet seemed taken aback by my appreciation.
"Your…welcome?" he said. "What is it?" he asked.
"It's my suitcase! Ha! And Torlem said a waterproof suitcase was a waste of money," I relied. "You aren't the most terrifying creature on this island are you?" I asked.
"No," he said with a touch of remorse, "I'm a chef in the kitchen. I was on my break and found it as I was walking along the beach. Also, I wanted to get a look at you myself. People are saying your this and that," he said.
"Well, if there's anything reasonable I can do for you, just ask. That's not a guarantee though so don't try anything slick," I said. Isbet nodded and scurried out of my room.
While opening up my suitcase, I got an idea for my escape. This was going to be tricky but I was up for the challenge. But would someone find out? I doubt it because I'm always ready for someone. Question is, are they ready for me?