Salvia: The Exile Chapter 3

Chapter 3 “Salvia, I’m sorry it had to come to this. I did try to plead for you. I’ll do all that I can to arrange your exile somewhere pleasant - and to keep it as short as I can.”
Salvia was grateful for the words from Calamintha – but their time alone together was all too short. Rubia came over to take her away. Seen by daylight, what she’d done to Rubia’s garden was pretty striking. And Salvia still had a sneaking bit of pride for the flotilla of ducks. But Rubia was far from happy. “And just what did you think you were doing when you did this?”
“It was just a joke. I didn’t know it was your garden.”
“And to whom did you think it might belong?” “Just some old lady or another,” said Salvia – and then realised that might not have been the most tactful way to put it. For a moment, she thought Rubia was about to strike her. The old woman’s anger was terrifying; almost elemental.
“That’s two. Two of the First Five laws that you have broken. And you don’t even seem to care.” Then Rubia did something that scared Salvia even more than that sudden glimpse of her anger. She gestured with one hand and a glowing symbol appeared on the ground next to them.
“You will go and stand on that. And you will not move from it.” And Salvia had no choice. She’d heard of this, but almost as a legend. You had to be both powerful and skilled to do this! Rubia Peregrina was obviously more than just a bad-tempered old woman. Then she looked round in surprise, for someone else had arrived. “So – you have the little mischief-maker.” He looked round. “She did all this alone? That’s no small feat.”
“She did indeed, Sambucus. Which is why I think she might answer all our purposes.”
“All of them?” He turned to look at Salvia. She tried to look away from him, but there was no evading his gaze. And how come he was so old, and still had his wings? The males were losing theirs even before the females. And how come she’d never seen him before?
“She has a lot of power,” he agreed slowly. He went over and looked at the dragon Salvia had made out of one of Rubia’s trees. “And a sense of humour – though I don’t like the uses she’s put it to. Are we going to dismantle this?” “Yes,” Rubia said. “ She’s left a lot of loose power in this lot – see how much you can collect. Leave those vicious weeds in the middle – she’s going to take those out herself. With her bare hands.” Salvia had to stand and watch as Sambucus carefully undid all the mischief she’d made, and restored the garden to its previous state. She was tired and she was hungry, but she couldn’t move from the spot. The moon was rising by the time Sambucus had restored the garden. He clicked his fingers and the pattern beneath her feet winked out, and she could move again.
“I hope you’re proud of your nasty little piece of mischief,” he snapped.
“It was only meant to be a bit of fun,” Salvia said, trying to placate him.
“For whom?” he asked, and his tone of voice made her wince. He pointed to the house, and she had no choice but to go in. It looked much as she’d expected – classic old-lady’s-cottage: warm enough, comfortable enough, but nothing fancy. “That way,” Sambucus said, and she turned and saw the spiral staircase going down in one corner of the room. The room at the foot of the stairs was a total surprise to her. How could an old lady living in a cottage have all this? Calamintha herself – and she was currently head of the council – could barely match it. “You’ve finished? Good. Now we’ll find out just how much power she really has in her.” Rubia went over to the bookcase, pulled at one of the books, and a panel slid back. Behind it was a small antechamber, with a door that presumably led into another room, all built of a strange grey stone.
“Do you know what this is, Sambucus?” she asked.
He looked over her shoulder and drew in his breath.
“Theta-stone?” She nodded grimly. “Theta-stone. This will draw all the magic from your body, and store it in its walls. I am the Keeper of the Theta-Chamber, and have been for a very long time now. And Salvia here is going to spend the night in the Theta-Chamber. Tomorrow morning, we will see how she is.”
“All night?”
“I think she’s strong enough.” And Salvia had to walk through the secret door, through the door beyond and into the tiny chamber. There was a candle, a pitcher of water with a dipper, and a bucket, but that was all. The door shut behind her, and she was left alone in the cold grey room. What was Theta-stone anyway? She’d never heard of it. Eventually she slept on the cold floor, and woke feeling more tired than she had when she’d fallen asleep. Next morning, Rubia let her out, gave her breakfast, let her wash and then sent Salvia outside to dig up the weeds she made grow in the garden. Salvia did wish she hadn’t been quite so enthusiastic in creating them – and the brambles were vicious! Eventually, the garden was almost restored. Salvia had never felt so tired in her life. No, not tired. More, sort of faded. It wasn’t hunger – Sambucus had brought lunch out to her, and no-one had minded her taking a lunch break. And there was water whenever she wanted it. And then the day ended, and she spent another night in the small grey stone room. The next morning, she needed Sambucus to help her up the stairs. She drooped, exhausted, as he brought her out into the sunlight.
“Is this enough?” he asked. “Should we wait another day or two?” Salvia forced herself to stand upright. Whatever they were planning, it seemed to involve her, for Rubia was saying, “Before long, Calamintha will come looking for her, to arrange her exile. I think it has to be now. I will go down into the Theta Chamber.”
It will kill her, thought Salvia. It’s exhausted me, and I’m young.
“Bring her back down as well. We don’t want anyone coming past and seeing her. And put an illusion on the garden to make it look unfinished.” And Salvia watched Rubia walk through the secret door, into the antechamber, and through into the Theta Chamber itself. She turned to Sambucus.
“Why are you doing this to me? What have I done wrong?”
“You pick on a defenceless old woman? You break at least two of the First Five laws? And you want to know what you have done wrong? All we are doing is justice.”
Salvia would have replied, but just then the bookcase opened up and Rubia came out. But how could this be Rubia? This was no old woman. No girl either, admittedly: she was clearly older than Salvia, but not old, old as Rubia had been.
“We were right about her being strong, Sambucus! Do you think I look young enough to wear colours again?”
She laughed at the look of puzzlement on both their faces.
“The Theta Chamber will drain someone’s power and store it in the stone itself. But the Keeper of the Chamber can draw it out from the stones and take it to herself. I am much older than you think. And we definitely don’t have much time: I can sense that very clearly. We have to finish off the work we need to do on Salvia, and send her into exile before anyone comes to stop us.” Rubia raised a hand, and the last of Salvia’s power was drawn from her. She felt herself falling to the floor while Sambucus looked on unmoved. “Does it have to be her?” Sambucus said, looking down at her crumpled figure on the floor.
“She is our only hope,” Rubia answered. And then the memories faded softly into her mind, and Salvia was back out in the cold and the dark, looking at a little girl trapped in a small space. Salvia had deserved at least a little bit of what had happened to her. Clearing up the weeds had hurt, but she’d put them there in the first place. San hadn’t really done anything wrong. It was all very well for her to tell herself that it wasn’t her fault, but it was San who was paying the price. Bedding at least, Salvia could do something about. She was tall enough – and agile enough – to throw her sleeping bag to San. The child snuggled gratefully into it, not even taking her mask off, she was so tired. Salvia slept in San’s bed that night, over in the sleeping block with the other children. As she made the bed in the morning, she looked round at the little room. Now she knew why the grey walls had bothered her so. This was theta-stone! A whole complex built out of theta-stone. But she didn’t feel drained like she had after sleeping in the Theta Chamber. Her bit of knowledge was raising more questions than it was answering. Had she lost all her magic? Her wings were gone – she could no longer fly. Otherwise, she’d have left as soon as she arrived! And the theta-stone wasn’t affecting her. She went outside to speak to San. “San, I’m sorry,” Salvia said. “This was my fault.”
“No,” San said. “It was very, very naughty. It must go to the naughty place.”
“You weren’t naughty, San. I was cross and I was unfair. This was my fault, San, and I am sorry.” Getting food to San wasn’t a problem – Salvia passed it through the bars to her, ladling it out into a bowl. San looked surprised and pleased.
“San,” Salvia asked cautiously. “When someone is in here, do they normally get fed?”
“No. If it has been naughty, it does not deserve food,” San replied simply. Salvia passed San an apple, and San ate it gratefully. One problem they weren’t going to be able to solve, Salvia reflected, was the hygiene one. She’d looked everywhere, and there were no buckets to be found. I’ve been here three days, she thought, and look at the mess I’ve made already. And I didn’t even make this one on purpose. The next two days were the longest Salvia had ever known. The sight of the other four children going about their routines like little automata made her feel guilty because San wasn’t with them. She spent as much time as she could, chatting to San, asking her questions, trying to find out as much as she could about this strange place. No. Not a place. A prison. Why were these children here? Why was she here, come to that? The days passed, the gates moved, and San was free again. Salvia bathed her, changed her very smelly clothes – and washed the sleeping bag! Looking after the children was so difficult! She wasn’t even managing to get breakfast ready in time for them all before they trooped off to school. San had told her about school – they were collected in a special vehicle, came home in it, and were taught in a room by themselves.
“So why go, if you’re not allowed to mix with anyone?”
“This world has rules. Rules for children. Children must go to school.”
This world has rules, Salvia thought, as she ate her breakfast. So this is a different world. But how can I find out anything about it from inside here?
As she went round the two buildings, cleaning, tidying, making beds and planning the next meal, Salvia thought hard about what she now knew.
She was, most likely, somewhere else altogether. But how could she find out if that was true?
The children had been here from very young? Why?
They had been looked after – by The Roku. But that had been different people - and most of them hadn’t lasted long. Why not? – and that was a bit of a worrying question!
There was enough food, and San said more would be delivered, when the washing was collected and the clean clothes returned. The children were sent to school. This world had rules about their well-being. But they were totally unloved. Why?
They never took their masks off. Salvia had asked them, why not? We can’t, San had told her. And when she looked, the masks were indeed fused to their faces in some strange way. Salvia walked across the yard to the sleeping quarters, the questions buzzing around in her head. All she could see above the walls was sky, and huge boulders. Where was she? The dark patterns on her arms caught her eye again. Where had they come from? What did they mean? Why were they there?
And then her memory stirred into life again.