They dutifully followed me outside, and I took them round the side of the house to the entrance garden. The night was still and quiet, the moon so large in the sky that it gave us enough light to see by without the use of a lantern. In the darkness, the blossoms of the magnolia tree glistened like silver, and the moon’s rays seemed to fall directly on the boughs like a spotlight.
“This is the tree I saw in the vision,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could change my mind. “Beneath it lies the shell I saw as well, and inside that there’s a girl—the last Daughter of Eritopia. She’s just as beautiful as the others… more so. She’s fast asleep—or in some kind of magic coma, I don’t know.”
All three of them stared down at the soil in silence. It occurred to me that they might not believe me. It wasn’t like they could see what I saw.
“Why didn’t you tell us before?” Field asked.
I looked guiltily in his direction.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I came here…She was so beautiful—so fragile, I suppose…She drew me in, and I just couldn’t bear to tell anyone about it. I wanted to, but… there was something stopping me. I’m sorry, Field. I know you asked, and I lied. Forgive me.”
“It’s okay,” he replied, his voice without reproach. “I get it. The Daughters today—they were…Well.” He cleared his throat. “Just be careful. That kind of beauty, it can be deadly.”
“I know,” I replied.
“Do you think we should dig her up?” Jovi asked, placing his hands down on the soil, testing its firmness.
“I don’t think so,” Field replied quickly. “We should wait to see what Draven thinks. Digging her up could be dangerous—we could harm her, or ourselves. I’m not particularly keen to incur the wrath of the Daughters again.”
“I agree,” Aida replied. “She’s probably meant to be left alone—maybe that’s one reason Draven was cagey about revealing her exact location to us… assuming he knew himself at the time.”
They were both right. Whatever madness had overtaken me last night when I’d tried to claw at the soil seemed to have dissipated. Perhaps now that I wasn’t alone, or was no longer keeping her presence a secret, whatever hold the Daughter had over me was gone. I looked down at the earth, moving past the soil using True Sight, following the roots as they entwined around the luminescent shell, and then to the sleeping form of the Daughter. She was in the exact same position in which I’d found her, which suggested to me that the sleep wasn’t natural. It must be some kind of spell or magical state that held her like that.
“Is she okay?” Field asked, realizing what I was doing.
I nodded. “The same as yesterday.”
“So, she’s just sleeping, or whatever, and fully grown?” Aida asked.
“Yeah,” I replied, tearing my vision away from her and refocusing on my friends.
“Basically like Sleeping Beauty?” she smirked.
“A bit like that, yeah,” I replied, uncomfortable with the comparison. I suddenly felt annoyed with Aida. Why was she belittling the Daughter? I doubted very much it was her fault that she was in that state—it was most likely due to the cruelty of the other Daughters.
“And when she wakes, Eritopia will be at peace?” Aida pressed.
“They said she would assist in saving Eritopia,” Jovi mused. “What do you think’s so special about her? I mean, if she’s the last remaining hope of Eritopia, she’s got to be able to do something that the other Daughters can’t.”
“Or won’t,” Field added.
“I’m going to put money on one of you needing to wake her up with a kiss to break the spell,” Aida added, arching her eyebrow in my direction.
“Seriously?” I retorted. “Can you not be serious for a second, Aida? This isn’t a joke! God knows how long that poor girl’s been down there. We know what cruelty the Daughters are capable of—this could have all happened against her will.”
Aida frowned at me, and fell silent.
I drew in a breath, instantly regretting chastising her. Why had I snapped at her? I didn’t normally get wound up like this. I wondered if it was the Daughter and her effect on me, or just that I was exhausted.
“Let’s go and eat,” Jovi suggested, easing the tension. “I think we’re getting a bit grumpy. The food should still be there.”
“Should be,” I muttered, turning to face the house. I wasn’t actually sure how all that worked, only that it appeared at the same time every day, and presumably vanished at some point as well. I hoped we hadn’t missed it. At the mention of food my stomach had started to rumble. It had been a long time since we’d eaten, and I guessed that most of us were suffering from some form of dehydration—just water wasn’t enough to replenish the body in that kind of punishing heat.