Tales of Enor: RIVER

The Other World

(River)

My name is Arwen Juniper River Wraith Wolfe. Yes, I know, it’s a bit of a mouthful, but everyone calls me River, or just Riv.

Arwen Wolfe was my grandmother’s name on my dad’s side, whom I never met, and Juniper was my mum’s sister, whom I also never met. It’s always been just my mum, Clara, and me.

I’m twenty-one, nearly twenty-two, and I used to think I was quite ordinary until two weeks ago.

What happened two weeks ago?

Well, I thought it was the worst week of my life, and guess what? I was wrong, because even worse days were yet to come.

I split up with my boyfriend, Jamie, that week. Yes, I know how pathetic it sounds even to mention him, the cheating arsehole, but then, two days later, I got a call telling me my mum had been in a serious car accident. I cried myself to sleep that night, but when I woke up, I couldn’t remember anything.

I didn’t remember my past, my ex, or even the accident my mum had been involved in or her funeral. I didn’t recall waking up the next morning and finding my mum’s brown Moleskine notebook hidden in the shoebox beneath the floorboards, with its strange drawings and writing that opened a gate between my world and Enor.

Instead, I remembered waking up in a strange room, utterly confused. Nothing around me made sense, and the more I tried to remember, the more confused I became.

I pulled the duvet tighter around me when I heard it.

“Sweetheart! Are you awake?”

The voice caught my breath.

It sounded just like my mum’s.

My eyes widened as the door slowly creaked open and my mum walked into the room.

“Mu—m?” I stared at her.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I couldn’t understand what I was seeing.

“R—iv? Have you been reading until the candle burned out again? You will ruin your eyes!” she chastised, as she always did, though I didn’t remember that.

I could only gape at her, confused, as she glanced disappointedly at the burned-out candle on the bedside table beside an open book.

“Your dress is here! I changed the buttons on the cuffs as you wanted,” she said, placing the floor-length dress on the edge of the bed.

“Dress quickly. I received a note from Blackthorn House. Duchess Louve York is in labour, and she has asked for us.”

I nodded and got up, washing my face in the basin before getting dressed, though I still wasn’t sure why I was agreeing.

After brushing my teeth, I ran my long hair through a brush and looked at myself in the mirror. I smoothed the coarse woollen skirt with my hands, then examined the sleeve cuffs and the small ivory buttons carved from bone into the shapes of wolf heads.

I frowned. I didn’t remember asking her to change anything.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

My cornflower-blue eyes were still puffy from sleep, and my nose was still sprinkled with freckles I disliked and tried to conceal with make-up every morning. But I didn’t remember doing that, either. I just thought I looked different, though I couldn’t quite figure out why as I examined my reflection and the scratchy dress that looked as if it belonged in the fourteenth century.

I looked like myself, yet everything else felt wrong.

“Riv! Your breakfast is ready!” my mum shouted from downstairs.

She startled me.

“I’m coming!” I shouted back as I left the room and rushed down the stairs into the kitchen, following the smell of toast.

Our house back in Northwood Hills was always busy in the morning, so this was nothing out of the ordinary. At least, it wouldn’t have been if I’d remembered any of it.

“We must leave soon. The coach is waiting for us down the road!” she called after me.

I quickly sipped my milky tea and bit into a piece of toast coated with a thick layer of butter and strawberry jam.

Mum was already waiting for me in the small hall, holding a woollen coat with a large fur-trimmed hood and a good pair of sturdy winter boots, ready to leave.

The bumpy ride in a carriage became a blur. I wondered whether my earlier thoughts had been nothing more than imagination, even though the room where I’d woken and the clothes I wore felt as if they weren’t my own.

I remembered it being a bitterly cold day, and I was glad I had all those underskirts, woollen tights and knee-high socks to keep me warm.

“It’s a sign that snow will come soon,” my mum had told me, pointing towards the grey sky above the trees, which bent beneath the strong wind. Not far ahead stood a large estate, with mountain peaks towering above it. That was where we were heading.

I pressed my face closer to the carriage window, trying to recognise something, anything, in the unfamiliar landscape, but there was nothing; only waves of unease came over me as we drew closer to the vast estate of Blackthorn Manor.

I felt it in my gut.

I knew something was coming.

I didn’t mean the heavy snowfall. Something felt wrong. I sensed it as soon as I stepped over the threshold of the house. It wasn’t just the feeling of not belonging; there was a strange presence inside, as if I were being watched.

Around me, everyone moved with practised importance and ease, while I struggled to make myself useful. I tried to look less out of place. I really did, but that night, I learnt that I knew absolutely nothing about midwifery.

I stopped whatever I was doing and listened to the heavy rain and wind outside, battering against the window and mirroring the beat of my heart.

“Your Grace!” I heard a maid call, her voice echoing through the room as painful groans of labour began.

My eyes snapped open. A maid was curtsying to a tall, robust man in his late forties.

I didn’t recognise him.

I wasn’t sure whether I should have, but I curtsied along with the other maids and the midwife standing beside my mum.

I kept myself at the back of the room, trying to make myself small and invisible as I watched them interact.

“How are they?” the Duke of Blackthorn asked nervously as he took off his coat and handed it to the maid, glancing at my mum.

I observed everything. The way they all behaved around me seemed so perfect, so secretive, as though they were old friends reunited, all sharing a hidden secret.

I decided then that I wanted to know what they were hiding. I wanted to confirm my suspicions, if only to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind.

I followed Mum and the Duke of Blackthorn. I caught his name: Ragnar York.

They both left the room after he greeted his wife, Louve, but just as I approached the door, a whisper stopped me.

I turned my head slightly, following the sound, and froze. Something dark shifted in the corner of my eye, something fast and ugly.

I stood there in terror.

“Ri—ver!”

I flinched.

I heard my name being called, though I barely registered my mum’s voice. It sounded distant and muffled in my ears.

“Ri—v! Are you even listening to me?”

“I’ve seen something over there,” I stammered, pointing towards the corner of the cabinet with a shaking hand.

I slowly came back to myself, breathing hard as my eyes darted around in a panic, searching for the shadowy creature I’d seen lurking in the corner of the room.

At first, I didn’t notice the startled eyes scrutinising me. I was still in a daze, just as shaken as everyone else, when one of the maids shrieked, pointing at me.

“It’s her!”

What she meant, I didn’t know then. My mum didn’t tell me, either—not until I found out the hard way.

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Author’s Note

Hello! I just wanted to say thank you for adding my book to your reading list. I hope you enjoy the journey, and please feel free to leave a little comment as you read.

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Ama ♡