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Labyrinth of Stones and Roses by Starsea

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Chapter Two
The Traveller Arrives



If you can't smell the fragrance
don't come into the garden of Love.
If you're unwilling to undress
don't enter the stream of Truth.
Stay where you are.
Don't come our way.

Rumi



A breeze blew through the empty branches of the trees. She looked up and sighed. She wanted to sit in drifting blossoms of pink and white. That way, maybe she would come back...

"Serena..."

She blinked and looked at the cards she was shuffling endlessly, automatically, in her hands. They were smooth, the edges worn away from years of usage, though she had taken good care of them. They had been given to her when she was five years old, by her mother.

Her dead mother.

They were her oldest and most powerful set, so she didn't use them that often, but today they had called her. Out here. Under the cherry tree. Near where the moonflowers grew.

She glanced at the tree base, remembering the flowers, like white stars in the grass. Their delicate scent hovered around her. She felt herself going into a trance. The feeling she always searched for when divining the future: hazy, her mind lifting, feeling its way through veils of gauze. Beautiful and unpredictable.

"Rae?"

The voice was distant, and she did not look up. "Mina."

A woman of similar age and height knelt in front of her. "You're using the Moon Garden set..."

"Today is important. Are Amy and Lita with you?"

"Yes."

"They should hear this too. It concerns all of us."

Mina turned and beckoned to the two women who were waiting behind her. They came and knelt in imitation of Mina, so the girls formed the four points of the compass: Rae in the east, Mina in the north, Lita in the west, Amy in the south.

Her hand laid out the cards in the form of a diamond. Everyone held their breath, analysing the images closely.

Rae frowned slightly, her finger lingering over the first card.

"Knight of Pentacles," she muttered.

"A man?" Mina hazarded.

Rae allowed herself a small sarcastic smile. "Yes, Mina. A man. He's dark. Tall. Good with money." She paused. "Knight of Light."

"Knight of Light...?"

The other women glanced at each other.

"What do you mean 'knight'?" Amy asked, immediately analysing.

"A very powerful man, noble but withdrawn. Slow on the uptake. He's searching for something..." Rae flipped over the next card. "The Queen of Cups. The Queen of Intuition and Feeling."

"Serena?" Lita blurted out, and then blushed, putting a hand to her mouth.

Rae did not look up or acknowledge the interruption. "A woman with fair hair, blue or grey eyes, who feels deeply and is very receptive to other people's pain." She paused. "Also can be self-indulgent and manipulative."

"Rae..."

"It's what they say...Three of Swords..." Rae frowned. "He is badly hurt. Disillusioned with love. Someone has hurt him."

Mina stared at the image of the heart driven through with three swords and shuddered. She knew that kind of pain all too well.

Rae had gone onto the next card. "Four of Pentacles. He's too concerned with material things. He will never find the Queen of Love if he concentrates on money. On guarding his money... his heart."

"Does he know this?" Amy asked anxiously.

Rae closed her eyes and turned the next card, at the top of the diamond. A dragon boat carrying six swords on a river. She allowed herself a little smile. "He's travelling to find his answers."

"So much for him. What's going to happen when he arrives?" Lita demanded, folding her arms.

Rae gave her a cool look. "All in good time," she replied,
infuriating the redhead. She studied the cards again. "A mixture. He's focused on his mind and his body. He's not listening to his instincts or his heart at all." She tapped the Queen of Cups. "Two things which are essential to this lady." She shrugged. "If he wants to find what he's looking for, he'll need to slow down and listen."

"Well, he can certainly do that here!" said Mina with a grin. "We've got all the time in the world..."

Rae settled again and began the next side of the diamond. Everyone grew quiet once more...

~ * ~

At the sound of wheels on gravel, Andrew looked up.

"You're as nervous as a beagle at the beginning of a hunt," Rita laughed. "Anyone would think he was your worst enemy, not an old friend!"

"I haven't seen him for so long, Rita…and he sounded strange on the phone. Distant." Andrew frowned. "I'm sure it's Beryl."

Rita turned and gave him a look. "Just because you don't like Beryl Malward doesn't mean she's the devil incarnate. Not everybody is as easygoing as you, sweetheart. Darien, from what I remember, attracts women like a jam jar attracts wasps." She shrugs. "I can't blame her for getting anxious."

"Anxious?!" Andrew shook his head in disbelief. "Tipping a glass of Bloody Mary over a dancing partner is not anxious, Rita, it's - it's him!"

Rita burst out laughing again at the change in tone and the way the words had sounded. She stirred the thick chicken and leek soup, which was beginning to bubble around the edges, almost in sympathy.

"Well, go and welcome him then, you're like a puppy on a leash."

Andrew blew a loving raspberry and bounded down the steps of the back porch. Rita's comparisons were not unjust: Andrew did have big brown eyes, and was friendly to nearly everyone. He was, as Darien had accurately described him, 'a Labrador in human form'.

Rita watched him collide into Darien and hug him. She smiled,
turned the gas off and poured the soup into seven separate bowls. Seven? Wait a minute… Rita paused, frowned, and turned, reaching out to another bowl before her hand stopped short.

"No," she said sadly. "We don't need another one. I forgot."

The bowl she had been reaching for was made of china, patterned in the famous Wedgwood style. But instead of ladies and gentlemen, it was patterned with Beatrix Potter characters: Peter Rabbit, Benjamin Bunny, Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton Tail. Small and charming, cherished from childhood.

Rita set out the soup spoons, trying hard not to cry.

Outside, Andrew slapped Darien on the back. "I can't believe you're actually here!" he said with a grin. "Where have you been, boy?"

"Up and down the back roads about a hundred times."

Andrew grinned evilly. Darien coughed. "So…" he said, looking around to try and distract his friend. "This is an 'inn'?"

"Aye, problem?" said Andrew. "May seem like nothing to you, city boy, but-"

"Nothing?! Andrew, this place is huge! This isn't an inn-!"

"And what would you call an inn?"

"Well - you know… small… Tudor period, maybe…not a great big house of sandstone with a cupola and-"

"I'm glad you like your new home, Mr. Shields."

Darien jumped for the second time that day and turned. He could hear Andrew chuckling in the back of his throat, and resolved to kill his best friend as soon as possible.

Facing him was a petite woman, just below his chin. Long dark hair fell past her shoulders. Her eyes were slanted, hinting at some Eastern blood, coloured a beautiful dark brown. She wore a red jumper with widening sleeves, and a long black skirt.

"Darien, this is Rae Firley. Her family owns the land on which the house was built. The squire's daughter," Andrew added.

Darien held out a hand. Rae took it and studied him. He stared back, unafraid of the probing that was in her gaze. She nodded slightly.

"Miss Firley," he said, shaking. He noticed that Rae's hand was white and smooth, but cold.

Rae opened her mouth, but then closed it. "Mr. Shields. You are the new gardener?"

"Yes."

"You seem a little too…slick? for a man of the soil."

Darien flushed. "I was a stockbroker before I came here."

"Really?" Rae's eyebrows went up, and she smiled in amusement. A stockbroker. That explained the Pentacles perfectly. "And why would a stockbroker apply for a position as gardener here?"

"Darien won the National Young Gardener award five years ago," Andrew announced proudly.

"Andrew!" Darien protested, giving him a pleading look.

"I'm your friend, so I'm allowed to blow your trumpet."

"Quite," Rae agreed. "Well, I hope you're not averse to hard work, Mr. Shields. The garden has been neglected for some time." She shrugged. "Not many people are trained in horticulture these days."

"I'm looking forward to it," Darien said honestly.

"Where's Mina?" Andrew asked, gazing around. "I thought she was supposed to be welcoming him."

"She's getting the lodge ready. Rita's cooked some soup, are you hungry, Mr. Shields?"

"Darien," Darien told her. "Please. I'm not that old!"

Rae only smiled. "Do you want to settle your luggage first, or
wait?"

"I'll take the luggage," Andrew said quickly. "I know where I'm going." At Darien's look of surprise, he added, almost sheepishly, "You can get lost in the grounds if you're a newcomer. It's happened before-"

"Yes," said Rae, cutting in.

Darien felt a sudden tension in the air. 'What is going on here?' he wondered, before remembering. "Oh, I have a message from someone."

"Who?"

"Ophelia."

Rae looked at him again, that clear steady gaze, as if she were searching for secrets. Darien wondered for a moment what she would make of Beryl, whose eyes hid many enigmas. He had a feeling that Rae wouldn't be too impressed.

However, all Rae said in the end was, "Come inside. You must be famished."

Darien's stomach growled suddenly in agreement. Darien blushed, and Rae laughed, a short crystal ring that ended quickly, leaving Darien to wonder if she'd actually made any noise at all.

He followed Rae inside, turning to watch Andrew make his way down a path in the woods with various suitcases and carrying bags. He could catch glimpses of Andrew's golden hair for quite a while.

"You'll get to see it soon enough."

Caught out, he blushed and turned to Rae. She held out a hand, and he stepped inside.

"Darien!" Rita hugged him quickly. "So good to see you! Andrew owes me £10 since you made it here without any help."

Darien flushed slightly, but he preferred not to spoil
Rita's good mood. Instead, he smiled and looked around.

The kitchen was large, Victorian imposed on an earlier period, Stuart perhaps. A huge pine table stood in the centre of the room and Darien sat down. A bowl of yellow soup invited him to begin, fragrant steam torturing his taste buds. Footsteps prevented this.

Another woman came in. She was slightly taller than Rae, dressed in jeans and a white jumper. Golden hair rippled down her back, held back by a long slender red ribbon, the tails hanging below her hips. Her blue eyes were bright but alert, a serious intelligence lurking beneath the surface glitter. Her smile could have melted butter at twenty paces.

"Darien? Hi, I'm Mina, Mina Loveday?" She shook his hand: her grip was quick and warm, and her eyes were far more open in their study of him. Darien found himself instinctively liking this woman.

"Yes, we spoke on the phone," he answered, glad to find a foothold.

"Well, I assume Rae gave you her typical roasting?" Mina winked cheekily at Rae, who was studying the table between her templed hands.

"'Roasting'?" Darien repeated. "That's not a roasting, not even a grilling. More like a gutting."

Rae looked up and smiled a little.

"I'm glad you weren't intimidated. She does that to everyone, don't take it personally," Mina told him, as if Darien hadn't spoken.

"I don't mind being stared at," Darien answered quietly.

"No, I bet you don't!" Mina said with an expressive look.

"Mmm, Darien's quite used to women looking at him," Rita agreed, sticking her tongue out when he glared at her.

"After lunch, we'll take you down to your lodge, and answer any questions you may have about the job."

"We?"

"Rae and I. Lita, Rae and I are joint partners in the hotel, didn't I mention it? Lita does the cooking and hygiene; Rae takes care of the legal and environmental matters; and I do the PR. I'm the figurehead, you might say." She shrugged with a little smile.

"Darien has a message for us from Ophelia," Rae told her.

Mina's smile disappeared quite suddenly. "Message? What kind of message? Where did you meet her? Why did he meet her?" she asked Rae tensely, fingers curling around her mug of tea.

"Why don't you let Darien speak for himself, Mina?"

Mina blushed. "Sorry, yes. Carry on, Darien."

"I was lost, actually. I'd been driving round and round in circles-"

"Ah," said both women, nodding, but when Darien paused, they looked at him with innocent eyes. He sighed - Women! - and continued.

"Then she just turned up out of the blue. Made me jump, actually.

I got out of the car, and told her where I wanted to go. She said that everybody seems to end up here eventually…" He looked at them closely, waiting to see how they took this compliment. To his surprise, they looked sad, almost bitter.

Darien took up his spoon and began to eat the soup. It had lost the edge of its heat: chicken chunks bobbed in the thick liquid, along with lumps of leek, shreds of carrot, traces of pepper. There was even a hint of French mustard.

"Don't stop," Mina said, her voice so quiet that he could barely hear her. "What did she say after that?"

"That her name was Ophelia. That she says 'hello'. I offered her a lift, but she told me she had other things to do. She seemed quite definite, so I took her at her word. I got in the car, glanced in the rearview mirror, and she'd-disappeared." He said this with a tinge of shame.

To his surprise, Rae and Mina nodded again.

"Ophelia's good at that," Rae told him. "You shouldn't let it
creep you out. She *is* very busy."

"But how did she do that?" Darien burst out. "What's a woman like her doing here? And why is she so damn busy?"

"Ophelia's an investigator of paranormal activities," Mina said, her voice calm and measured. "This is ancient country. There are a lot of strange happenings."

Darien looked her straight in the eye. 'That isn't all. You're
lying, and we both know it,' he thought. 'But what are you hiding… or protecting?'

"Have you sorted out the business between you and your girlfriend?" Rae enquired, changing the subject.

From one prickly subject to another. It was Darien's turn to be ill at ease. "Yes…no. I don't think she's really accepted we're over just yet."

Rae nodded. "I thought so."

"Why?"

"Rae has psychic gifts," Mina explained to him. "She's Wiccan. She does tarot and fire meditations."

Darien tried to suppress his disbelief, but he couldn't help a
slight snort of laughter. Rae's brown eyes seemed to pin him down at the noise.

"You may laugh now," she said, "but we shall see who laughs last." Her eyes narrowed. "You have a choice, Darien. You can either choose to ignore your need, or acknowledge it. This place has a habit of bringing out the best in a person…or the worst. You'd better be ready for it."

Darien stared at her, unable to look away. He wanted to fight back, tell her he was ready for any challenge…but was he? Look at him: he'd run away from Beryl, refused to take her phone calls, blocked her e-mails. Was that brave? Was that noble? He was ashamed of his behaviour, and he hated it. And she knew it.

Rae turned her head, a contemptuous dismissal. Darien stared into the remains of his soup and felt miserable. Mina ate hers steadily, and asked for seconds.

"Back!" Andrew was peering around the door, accompanied by a head with brown curly hair and gentle green eyes.

"Ah, Lita!" Mina seemed relieved. "This is Darien, the guy I told you about. Is the lodge ready?"

"Spick and span," said Lita proudly. I even sewed new curtains for the windows!" She nodded pleasantly at Darien. He realised that she was papering over the atmosphere, allowing everyone to relax and begin again. He stood up.

"Thanks for the soup, Rita. I'd love to see the lodge."

Mina and Rae pushed back their chairs. "We'll come with you," Mina said softly. "We all know something about the house, you see. We… knew the previous gardener quite well."

"What happened to him?" Darien asked.

But nobody answered. The wind rattled the glass in the windowpanes. Darien looked around: another faux-pas?

"This way," Lita said quietly, taking his arm and leading him out of the door before he could ask anything else.


DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, but the setting does. Wouldn't it be a lovely world if you could buy bishounen? Imagine Darien going up for sale on E-bay… :D

Many thanks to my friends, and Nicollette Crescente for giving me my first review. This chapter was inspired by La Morte, a story by Beijin on ASMR.

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