Gateway to Druidia

Book 1: Envy’s Tale

Chapter 1

I came awake sputtering, my mouth suddenly full of orange fur.

"Spark!" I yelled, batting the spoiled feline aside.

"Feed me," he replied with a meow, as he nimbly leapt off my bed and trotted off into the kitchen, to await breakfast by his food dish.

I sighed, rolling back over and pulling up the covers, unwilling to leave the warmth and softness of by bed.

Then, just as I was preparing to screw my eyes shut and go back to sleep, I glimpsed the glaring red digits of my alarm clock.

"Oh, no," I muttered, closing my eyes. "Please don't say what I thought you just said."

I opened my eyes back up, but time, contrary as always, refused to turn itself back to accomodate me. I was almost thirty minutes late, and in danger of missing the bus.

I leapt out of bed, scrambling out of my pajamas and into the cleanest clothes I could find...no time for a shower, drat...and proceeded to rush out of my room and into the hall, where I immediately stepped on something hard and plastic, breaking it and cutting my foot in one fell swoop.

Biting back several choice expletives, which I didn't dare let out in case Shannon happened to overhear, I hopped the rest of the way into the kitchen.

Bria was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a sloppily-poured bowl of cereal.

"You're late," she announced happily. As though I wasn't already aware.

"I know," I snapped back at her, opening the cabinet and pulling down a can of cat food. I peeled back the top and empptied it into Spark's bowl. He dived in without so much as a thank-you. "YOU left one of your stupid dinosaur toys in the hall again. My foot is bleeding. Thanks."

Her eyes widened. "My dimetrodon? You stepped on my dimetrodon?!" getting up, she rushed from the room, knocking over her bowl of cereal in the process. She didn't so much as look back; she knew I'd clean up after her. I always did.

Or else.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for asking," I muttered, grabbing a paper towel from the roll on the wall and scooping all the milk and cereal off the filthy tabletop and back into the bowl. I was dumping the ruined junk food into the trash when Bria came back in, holding a broken green lizard and screaming at the top of her lungs, her obnoxious little face screwed up in fury, red as a beet.

"You broke him! YOU BROKE HIM!"

I was about to retort that it was the darn dimetrodon's own fault for wandering the halls on his own, when she rushed over and began pummeling me with her little fists, throwing a world-class tantrum.

A sharp, stabbing pain lanced through my leg as her grubby white tennis shoe connected, hard, with my shin. I let out a cry, and, without thinking, shoved her away.

It was the first time I'd ever laid a hand on her. She turned out to be much lighter than I'd expected, my meager shove sufficient to send her crashing back into the kitchen table.

Her eyes widened. She wasn't hurt, not really, but this sort of treatment wasn't what she was used to, and she wasn't about to stand for it. She closed her eyes, sunk to the floor and let out a bloodcurdling scream.

And when I say bloodcurdling, I mean BLOOD. CURDLING.

Unfortunately, it was loud enough to rouse her mother from her stupor. As Shannon blearily made her way from the living room couch to our dingy kitchen, wincing against the shrill noise, I quickly rushed back to my room, grabbing some socks, snatching up my backpack and pulling on my boots.

Once I had everything I needed, I made a beeline for the door, ignoring the stab of pain I recieved every time I placed my weight on my right foot, taking a route through the house that circumvented the kitchen.

"Envy Sinclair!"

Drat. Almost made it.

Shannon appeared between me and the front door, her eyes bloodshot and her expression bitter, distorted by what had to be, to judge from the bottles on the coffee table, a terrible hangover.

"How DARE you? How dare you go around breaking your little sister's toys and shoving her around?"

She's NOT my sister, I thought, but I didn't bother saying it; I'd been down that road before and knew it got me nowhere.

"I'm late for school," I said instead, pushing past her. She made a grab for me, but her reflexes were pathetic. I'd been ducking her punishments for years; she had yet to actually lay a hand on me.

I shoved open the front door and made my way down the driveway, knowing that I was safe. She wouldn't yell after me or come out to recapture me...not when there was a chance the neighbors might be watching. I knew I’d have to face the music when I got home, but until then, I'd earned a reprieve.

The skies outside were dark and dreary, threatening not just rain but a full-out Armageddon. The skies growled as thunder rumbled in the distance.

Weather matches my mood.

I sighed as I trudged my way to the bus stop, my limp becoming slightly more pronounced as my foot complained more and more about its recent trauma.

I arrived just in time to watch the bus' taillights disappear around the corner.

"Of course," I said, looking up at the sky. "Why not. I suppose I'll just walk, then, shall I, Universe? No trouble. No trouble at all."

The Universe replied by taking a wizz on me, the skies tearing open and a deluge of icy water raining down from above.

"No trouble at all," I repeated numbly.

* * *

I stumbled through the double doors of Destiny High School, drenched, shivering and miserable. crowds parted as I passed, though I wasn't sure if it was the death glares I was giving out, my ever-present unpopularity, or the fact that they simply didn't wish to get wet by touching me.

I made my way to my locker, where my best (by default) friend was standing, rooting through her own.

Toni Phillips. Short black hair, cold blue eyes, appetite like a thousand ravenous sharks. She was absurdly skinny, despite all that she ate, and she had the miraculous ability to fix anything, do anything, and get along with anyone.

I hated her. In the best possible way, of course.

"Morning, Envy...woah," Toni said, turning to face me as I approached my locker. "You look rough. What happened?"

"Dunwanna talkaboutit," I mumbled, my arm on autopilot as it opened my locker and crammed in my backpack. They don't allow you to carry backpacks around schools these days, FYI. Too worried about idiots with weapons. Never mind that your average textbook weighs about the same as a minifridge.

"Come on. You can tell me," she replied. Toni took charge, grabbing me by my shoulders and turning me around so that my back was to her. She somehow produced a brush, for I felt it being dragged through my limp, wet, colorless hair. It was one of those soft-bristled brushes, the kind that can be raked through wet, sodden hair without ripping it out by the roots. It felt wonderful. I let my olive-green eyes fall closed, somehow resisting the urge to purr.

"Mmm. Just one of those mornings. The day can only improve from here, right?" I responded tiredly.

"Toni!" a voice called.

I winced. "Or not," I muttered.

The happy brush went away as one of Toni's numerous friends approached.

I automatically detached myself from the scene and returned to rummaging through my locker in search of my books. It was an understanding that had evolved over the long years of friendship that Toni and I had shared: I was Toni's friend. All of Toni's other friends were Toni's friends. But Toni's friends and I were NOT friends. I wasn't welcome in their company and they weren't welcome in mine...we only tolerated each others' presence, when it couldn't be avoided, for Toni's sake.

For my part, I couldn't stand the sort of people Toni liked to hang around. All valleygirl-types, the sort of girls who drink lattes and read stupid fashion magazines and throw slumber parties where they all lounge around in pink pajamas playing Truth or Dare and making crank calls.

And no, it WASN'T just because I was never invited. Perish the thought.

For their part...well, I'm not exactly sure what they thought. I wasn't really on speaking terms with any of them. I'd gathered that they were confused as to why Toni would hang around with a...well, with a girl like ME, but they eventually accepted it as just one of Toni's little quirks. Like putting up with someone's annoying pet poodle, I suppose.

Had I just compared myself to a poodle? The day hadn't been THAT wearing...or at least I hoped not; it had barely begun.

Toni returned to join me after she and her friend...Katrina, was it? I could never keep them all straight, they dressed exactly the same, even had the same haircut...finished talking.

"What was that about?" I asked.

Toni ran a hand through her short, spikey black hair before turning her ice-blue eyes over to me.

"Kat? She was inviting me to go for a burger with some of the other girls after school."

"Ah." So much for hanging out with Toni this afternoon. Pity...that meant going straight home. Joy and rapture.

"I said no."

"What?!"

I stopped short, staring at her in astonishment. This was the girl who bought two lunches every day....to chase down the three she brought from home. Toni turning down food was unheard of.

She smiled, throwing her arm over my shoulders as she walked me towards my first class. "Instead, I thought I'd drag my best friend to that new bookstore that just opened up downtown."

Suddenly, this day was looking MUCH better.

* * *

One of these days, I'm going to learn my lesson about optimism.

The day only went downhill from there. My foot continued to throb, reminding me that being stuffed into a dirty boot was not the best treatment for an open wound. Someone started a food fight in the cafeteria, more or less right where I was sitting, so I wound up wearing someone's peach cobbler. One of my teachers was a substitute who kept mispronouncing my name, looking for some arrangement of letters that made sense to her, just because she couldn't believe that anyone would actually name their child Envy. (Ivy? Evelyn? Please.) During gym class...always a pleasure in and of itself, although that day it was rained out, so instead of getting ground into the grass by the other students under the guise of soccer, I got to spend the period getting pummeled by dodgeballs in a hot, humid gym full of sweaty, stinky people...someone actually managed to sneak into the locker room and HIDE MY CLOTHES, making me late for my next class due to the time I spent trying to track them down.

Interesting footnote to that last: I finally found them floating in the toilet, and I certainly wasn't going to wear them after THAT, so I wound up wearing my gym clothes the rest of the day after all.

But finally, the school day ended. I met Toni on the front steps and we made our way to the parking lot, where Toni's father was waiting to pick her up. Another plus to this little excursion: no irritating bus ride home.

Mr. Phillips, an average-sized, medium-old man with shoulder-length dark hair and oval-shaped glasses, greeted us as we opened the back doors and stepped into his car (the passenger seat being cluttered with briefcases and papers).

"Hey, sweetie. How was your day?"

"Fine."

"Envy. Yours?"

"Less than fine," I replied honestly.

"Sorry to hear that. Am I giving you a ride home?"

"Actually, we were hoping you'd be willing to swing us by the bookstore first?" Toni asked, flashing him a sickeningly sweet smile. "That new one downtown?"

"Can do," Mr. Phillips replied simply.

I smiled. I always liked Mr. Phillips. He was very relaxed and easygoing...unlike his wife, who thoroughly disapproved of me, barely able to hide her condescending frown whenever her eyes saw me sitting too near her darling daughter.

Toni and her dad made friendly small-talk the entire ride, while I sat in silence, basking in the atmosphere of not-suckiness that pervaded the car. It was small comfort, and, like most of the good things in my life, it was only mine vicariously, but I accepted it anyway.

After about fifteen minutes of driving, we arrived. I'd heard good things about this bookstore, but I'd never yet gotten the chance to actually visit it, usually too busy after school with homework and chores, and on the weekends with...well. More chores. Toni's father waited in the car, thankful for the chance to sort through his paperwork, while Toni and I stepped out and approached the store.

The building itself was huge, made of lead-gray brick with gargoyles on the corners of the roof and a really ornate knocker embedded in the center of the huge, solid-oak door.

The gothic-looking lettering on the sign above the door read Animaria. Nothing else, nothing to imply what might actually be sold there. Just the name.

The inside of the store was simply amazing. The door opened onto an atrium. It was round, with a glittering gold compass rose painted on the ground. If you looked up, you could see a dark blue, stained-glass skylight displaying a number of constellations, suns, moons, and stars. A number of planters full of lush, leafy-looking plants stood against the walls. Soft, serene music was playing, issued by hidden speakers.

A single, closed-in counter stood against the back wall. On either side of it was a staircase leading up to a second level, the stairs lined with rich red velvet.

As we walked in, a small gold bell above the door signaled our presence to the man behind the counter. He glanced up at us from the book he was reading.

He wasn't my type at all, but I could tell that he was hot. His hair was long and dark brown, his eyes glittered a beautiful emerald-green, not like the dull olive-green my irises had. A nametag pinned to his shirt read "Hello, my name is Ian". He smiled, and though it had little effect on me, I could tell it was one of those heart-stopping smiles…partially because of the way Toni started to swoon.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he said in a voice that seemed not quite to fit him. It was a little higher than on would expect from someone his age, though not unpleasantly so. I was abruptly conscious of my post-gym-incident attire...a white T-shirt and a pair of dark blue shorts that reached down to mid-shin. I shifted uncomfortably, fingering my pendant, like I always do when I'm nervous.

“Oh, um, good afternoon,” Toni replied. She seemed at a loss for a moment, then made a tense little bow.

I sniggered, suddenly feeling better about myself. “Did you just curtsey?” I teased in a low voice.

“Shut up,” she hissed, elbowing me.

“Make yourselves at home,” the proprietor said. “Oh, and if you’re planning to shoplift, you should know I keep a crossbow back here.”

“Oh, no,” Toni stammered. “We would...I mean, we’d never…”

“He’s joking, Toni.”

“Oh. Um. Of course. I knew that.”

“Ignore her,” I said to the man. “She’s suddenly developed a massive crush on you.”

“Envy!’ she cried, gaping at me.

I snickered, and she mock-kicked me.

“I’m gonna go peruse now,” I said, making for the stairs.

“Go!” she yelled, hands on her hips.

I giggled as I climbed the stairs to the right of the counter…then gasped in astonishment as I reached the top, unable to believe what I was seeing.

A dazzling array of books stood before me, glittering letters on multicolored spines neatly arranged onto mahogany shelves. Ornate signs hung at intervals, denoting the sections by which the books were organized.

I turned and leaned over the gold railing that encircled the upper level, looking down at Toni, who seemed to be chatting up the owner.

“This is the coolest place in the history of cool places,” I called down to her.

“I’m going to have to drag you out of here by your ears,” she stated calmly up at me, a smile tugging at her mouth.

I nodded, grinning, then turned and dived into the shelves.

I had about seven books in my hands, planning to purchase them, before I realized that I hadn’t brought much money with me. Sighing, I replaced most of them, careful to put them back exactly where I’d gotten them. I made a note to come back tomorrow with more money. Lots more money. I would be raiding my Get-The-Heck-Out-of-Shannon's-House fund for this.

As I was replacing one of them, my hand brushed the one next to it, and I felt a weird tingle from it, almost like an electric shock.

“Meep!”

I jumped back, dropping all the other books I’d been holding. I immediately felt guilty for doing that to books, especially books that weren’t even mine yet, but I was too busy rubbing my arm to really mind too much. My entire forearm, elbow to fingertips, was tingling like I’d hit my funny bone.

Curious, I reached up for the book, hesitating lest it shock me again. It didn’t. Pulling it down, I examined the cover. The title was Gateway to Druidia, which was disturbing. Not that it bore that name, but that I could read it, seeing as it was written in some weird runic language that I’d never seen before. It was bound in green leather with brackets of gold metal, and in the center of the front cover was…

I gaped. In the center of the front cover was a metal plate, but it was an outline, a slot designed to accept a smaller object. A small, triangular object, with one rounded edge and a loop for a chain.

Unable to believe what I was seeing, I held up my necklace, comparing it to the plate in the cover. No doubt about it, it was a perfect fit.

I had had the triangular pendant for as long as I could remember. My father had told me, prior to his death, that I'd had it when he first brought me home from the orphanage. It was the one thing I owned that I truly felt was valuable, and I was never without it. About two and a half inches long, and perhaps an inch and a half wide at the larger end, the pendant was a pie slice-shaped shard of gold, bearing in the exact center an oval-shaped gem of dark purple.

How was this book connected with my amulet? To me?

The book refused to open, as if it were locked.

Well, why not? Diaries locked. Granted, this book was thicker than every diary I’d ever seen, roughly the size of a dictionary. But that made sense, too. Diaries were way too skinny, especially for someone who had as much to write as I did. I had to buy a new one almost every month.

WAS this some sort of diary? And if it went with my necklace, the one that I’d been wearing when I was dropped on the orphanage’s doorstep, then what were the odds that my biological parents might have owned this book?

A sudden scenario entered my mind...I'd open this book, find written on the inside cover the address and phone number of the previous owner, under the heading 'If found, please return to...'. Calling the number, I'd hear a voice at the other end, remarkably like mine, but older, more mature. It would turn out that she'd regretted ever having given me up, she'd want me back, and then, not long after that, she'd appear on the doorstep of Shannon's house, ready and willing to take me away from that horrible place...

What? Can’t a girl dream?

I pulled the pendant off over my head, removing the chain from the golden triangle. The chain wasn’t the one it had originally come with, that one having needed to be replaced as I outgrew it. Carefully, I fitted the pendant to the book cover. It locked into place with a surprisingly loud click.

The book still wouldn’t open. I knew better than to try to force it…I might break it, and not only was it now very important to me, but I knew for a fact that I didn’t have enough cash on me to pay for a book like this. It had to be expensive.

I tried to reclaim my pendant, but it refused to come free of the cover. That was when I started to panic; I was never without that necklace. I even slept in it. The only times I’d ever taken it off at all were to replace the chain. I had to get it back!

I tugged at it…and blinked in surprise when it turned, part of the metal plate rotating. I looked more closely, and realized that the deep, circular groove in the metal plate that surrounded the slot was more than decorative engraving. It was a place where two separate pieces of metal fitted together, like the barrel of a lock. Grinning, I grabbed my pendant and turned it, rotating it until the triangle faced downward towards the bottom of the book, just like it did when I wore it. It turned easily, making clicking noises like an alarm clock being wound, or maybe like a fishing reel.

No sooner did the last click sound than the book sprang open in my hands, like the cover was spring-loaded…which I wouldn’t have doubted at this point.

There was no caption. No name, no address. The pages were filled with more of that arcane writing, the strange script that somehow made perfect sense to me, despite my never having laid eyes on it before in my life.

"Envy!"

I jumped, Toni's call having shocked me, as though I'd been guilty of doing something I shouldn't have. I moved back to the railing and peered down. Toni was looking up expectantly, her father standing in the doorway.

"Time to go. Come on," she said.

I glanced at my watch. We'd been there longer than I thought.

I glanced down at the book. I didn't want to leave it behind, but there was no way I could afford it. It was ornate, leather-bound, and I'd not have been in the least surprised if the metal bits had turned out to be real gold.

Still...There was no harm in asking. Maybe the store could put it on lay-away for me.

I made my way down the stairs, attempting to close the book as I did. To my surprise, it closed smoothly, with no resistance, it's covers snapping closed with a loud click.

My amulet fell out of the slot, coming loose in my hand. I quickly threaded it back onto its chain and replaced it around my neck.

"How much for this?" I asked, placing it on the counter.

The bookstore owner glanced at the book...and then did a double-take, surprised.

"How did you get that? That one's not supposed to be out on the shelves. I'm sorry," he said, taking it and holding it tightly, like the treasure that it was. My heart sank. "But this book isn't for..."

He trailed off, his eyes wandering lower. I raised an eyebrow, about to ask him why he was staring at my chest, when I realized that he was looking at my necklace. It had been tucked under my shirt before; he hadn't seen it when I first came into the store.

He was quiet for a moment.

"Envy?" Toni prompted impatiently. "We gotta go."

"Five bucks," Ian said finally.

I gaped. "Five bucks?" I repeated incredulously.

"Is there an echo in here?" he retorted. "Yes. Five bucks. Do you have it or not?"

"I've got it, I've got it," I said hastily, producing the cash from my backpack and handing it over. He rang up the book and bagged it, handing me a reciept.

"Thanks for shopping at Animaria. Have a nice day, and please, come again," he said, smiling brightly. His eyes caught mine, and I swear he had one of those looks, the kind I hate, that look of "I know something you don't know!"

I thanked him, and, turning, returned to the car with Toni and Mr. Phillips.

The whole ride home, I spent cradling the enormous book, fiddling with my necklace. I was dying to get home, to rush to my room, slam the door, fit my precious heirloom into its slot on the cover and read, read like I'd never read before.

"So did you find what you were looking for?" Mr. Phillips asked, jolting me out of my reverie.

"Yes," I replied, after a moment. "Yes, I think I did."