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The Prophesy Tower. Chapter 64. Write a Novel Challenge.

Write a Novel Challenge Chapter 64 showing the secret compartment in Neina's desk where the final plans should have been

by Sabaa RashidJune 30, 2020

Back in the library, Neina paced back and forth, the Queen’s dire revelation still fresh in her mind. Frustration and doubt gnawed at her as her heart grew heavy. Had her friendship with Charlotte been a lie, their bond an inconsequential speck in the grand scheme of things? Had her achievements with the Prophesy Tower been bestowed on her, not because of the tedious hours of hard work she had put in day after day, but simply because she was some “chosen one”? The immense sense of pride in her abilities Neina had once felt, now left a gaping hole in her chest as she struggled to contemplate the pressing implications of what Queen Orla had just disclosed.

Standing in the corner of the library, her radiant presence now subdued, was the Queen herself. She was watching Neina, her gaze gentle, trailing her path across the room. Neina was reminded of the brief moment she had seen the Queen’s face wracked with desperation – that was all that was needed to leave a lasting impression on her. Neina struggled to completely trust the Queen, the person who, up until now, she had vehemently blamed for all her recent problems: the sudden appearance of Isla at her workplace; her hallucinatory trips to the Mors World; and, Archie’s untimely death.

Queen Orla’s ethereal voice broke through her thoughts, “Time is not on our side, Neina. I do not wish to force you to go through any more than you already have, you poor thing, but as the One of the Prophecy, I fear that the time for prevarication is now over.”

Though calm in composure, the Queen’s words were laced with urgency.

Neina found herself wanting to rage at Orla for demeaning her, for calling her “poor thing” as if she was a child, but bit her tongue. It had been a long day, and Neina wasn’t sure of herself. There are always three sides to a story – and it is the one that lies somewhere between the two entrenched positions that is usually the right one. Neina was also conscious that the Queen was right; time takes no prisoners.

Orla’s voice reminded Neina of what the Queen had said to her previously, “… but you see, just like not all of your kind can withstand the pressure of our world, not all of ours can withstand yours. They faltered, turned rogue, came back in the fold again.” However she cut it, the Queen’s words made sense to her. There surely was a reason that she, Neina, was chosen for this. None of this could be simply a fluke. But just perhaps Neina could take some solace from believing that her skills were not a product of her being the “chosen one,” but, rather, that she had been chosen for her skills. For her values and ability to resist the twisted nature of the Mors. For her integrity and sincerity towards those she was close to.

Recovering her poise, Neina turned to the Queen, now much more confident than she had been when Orla had unexpectedly arrived at Archie’s funeral. That had been a meeting she had expected to end in conflict and further bloodshed but which had, instead, taken a turn for the better. She knew what to do now – her questions would have to wait. However curious she was, there were more pressing matters at hand. The fate of the world, of two worlds, lay in Neina’s hands.

It was time to listen – and as Neina sat down with the Queen, she relayed to Orla where exactly she would find the plans of the Prophesy Tower, its foundations and access tunnels. They were still at her workplace, which would no doubt be closed by now. She learned that she wouldn’t be allowed to get past the “construction workers” of the Tower, however, if she didn’t show the original documents. The so called “construction workers”, she learned, were in fact guards sent to protect it. Finally, she learned from the Queen that they’d have to leave to her office now to get there before nightfall.

Neina was about to head back to bid farewell to Archie’s mother when Orla stopped her.

“Neina, I can erase her memory of this later with my magic. We must leave now if we are to have any chance in time.”

Neina suddenly thought of all the experiences she had gone through over the past few days. The excruciating pain and unbearable chaos had taken a toll on her health, undoubtedly. The magic of the Mors World held the power of captivating beauty, but this only served to mask the danger facing all of them. Neina could not risk the lives of anyone, and least of all those that she loved.

Neina shook her head decisively, “I know what it’s like to have my mind tampered with Orla. If you meddle with someone else’s, I’m afraid you’re on your own from now on.”

Taken aback by Neina’s sudden sharp tone, Orla agreed.

After a rushed and apologetic goodbye to Jessica and one final glance back to a world that no one might ever see again, she and Orla made their way towards her workplace. Neina ran ahead, noticing moments later that the Queen had disappeared.

Twenty minutes later, legs weak, breath shallow and cheeks flushed, Neina pressed her ID to the door and let herself into the building. The golden wash of the late afternoon sunlight had now drained from the sky, the last of its rays thinly veiled by the clouds of dusk. All was still. Wherever the guards were, they were not here. As she stepped inside her office, she found Orla standing by her desk, regret painted on her face.

“Neina, I’m so sorry- I forgot to transport you with me, and using my powers in the mortal world takes such a toll I didn’t have the energy to…”

“Save it for later,” Neina interrupted brusquely, not meeting her eyes. “We need to get going.”

As Neina reached out towards her drawers for her plans, she breathed a sigh of relief.

All of this was going to be over soon.

How she longed for her everyday life. She was so angry with herself for taking something for granted that she understood now to be so precious. The yearning was intense. For the familiarity of the normal world. For the smallest things that make us human and who we are, what we will become. For being able to stroll around without the constant fear of being swallowed up by responsibility and the weight of worlds, their future itself, upon her shoulders.

These thoughts filling her mind, Neina’s hands felt in the back of her drawer, releasing the catch to the secret compartment where she had hidden the final version of her plans. The version outlining the three tunnels and the glass borehole that descended thousands of metres under the ground to …