The Thief and the Skull

~Five - Sweet Olive~

Amber’s mind reeled. How could she explain this? Technically, she had stolen the Amerist crown, but not from this world, this strange land. And certainly not from Ordin, the imposing Lord of Earth, a man she hadn’t even known existed hours ago. Stealing in her world was a desperate act, a means of survival on a low-wage job, an entire world away from here.

Young Cricket, buzzing with endless energy, was subdued. “Lord Ordin,” he piped up, his voice hesitant, “we found Amber unconscious … after that blasted bird stole my hat. She was lost, injured from the fall. She wouldn’t steal a crown from you.”

Goose shivered as she huddled beside Cricket. Was she afraid for Amber, or terrified of Ordin himself?

Ruben, his face illuminated by the flickering oil lamp, edged closer. “Tell us, girl, where did you find the Amerist crown?”

Amber’s grip tightened on Lucile’s handlebars, her knuckles bone-white. Fear pricked at her, beading sweat on her forehead.

“I…” she stammered, “It’s from my world… it’s a national treasure… in my world.”

“It belongs to the Blackseed family,” Ruben stated, his eyes glinting in the lamplight.

“Brother, are you scaring our guest?” A voice, light and melodic, cut through the tension.

Everyone, save the stoic guards, turned toward the mansion. Descending the stairs was a young woman, petite and graceful, her face delicate and framed by hair as dark and lustrous as Ordin’s. It was tied back in a practical yet charming braid. She radiated a lively, approachable energy, a surprising resilience in the face of her brother’s formidable presence. Her dress, a casual gown of deep forest green, moved with her like a living thing. The fabric pooled around her feet as she walked.

“Olive,” Ordin groaned, a hint of brotherly affection flickering in his glare. “I told you to stay in the mansion.”

“You’re my big brother, Ordin, and I love you,” she replied, slipping between him and Amber. “But you know I don’t follow your orders. I never have.”

Something about her presence, her calm demeanour, eased the coil of anxiety in Amber’s chest.

Olive turned to her, her dark eyes scrutinizing her with the same intensity her brother had before discovering the hidden trinket. “Amber, I must apologise for my brother’s behaviour.” She returned to her brother. “We must move this inside, Ordin.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible. “I sense the moon is just over the horizon.”

The cryptic pronouncement hung in the air. Her whispered words seemed to shatter Ordin’s stone facade, replacing it with a fear Amber knew all too well. Even behind her, she heard Cricket and Goose gasp.

Ordin gestured to Trip, his head guard, then to Amber. “See this … beast is secured in the stables.”

“Yes, My Lord…” Trip, ever obedient, glided towards her, grabbing Lucile, prying her from Amber’s grasp.

“Wait,” Amber protested, her voice tinged with panic. “I can’t leave Lucile … she…” she trailed off, hesitant to reveal more about herself.

Olive placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, making Amber flinch, a sad reminder that childhood scars ran deep. The flinch was small, a micro-movement most would have missed. But Olive saw it and immediately removed her hand.

“It will be safe there,” she said, her voice a low, soothing relief against the raw edges of Amber’s anxiety. “You have my word.”

“Goose and I need to go too,” Cricket said, squeezing Goose’s arm.

“No, please stay,” Amber pleaded, noticing the tremor in her own voice. Though she had only met Cricket and Goose a few hours ago, their kindness had made her welcome in this bewildering place at least tolerable.

“We must,” Goose added, allowing Cricket to pull her away. “But we will visit you tomorrow.”

“During the day,” Cricket interrupted, his eyes wide with unspoken fear.

“But, I don’t…” she started to say, but Cricket cut her off again.

“You’ll be safe here, Amber, and so will Lucile.” He and Goose turned and fled back towards the trees, disappearing into the shadows.

What on earth was happening? Her gaze, still locked on the direction the children had fled, continued to ache with the monstrous pounding behind her eyes. It seemed to be getting worse.

Olive stepped into her view, her kind eyes, pools of empathetic understanding. “I’ll be responsible for your care, Amber.” Her gaze then shifted to the dry blood painted on Amber’s ruined leather jacket. “Let me clean you up and get you some clean clothes.”

Amber, her gaze flickering between the space where the children had disappeared and Olive’s compassionate face, found herself at a loss for words.

“Olive,” Ordin began, his gaze piercing. “Can I trust you with our guest?” He said the word ‘guest’ with a heavy layer of suspicion. He didn’t see her as a guest, not after discovering the Amerist crown. She was a thief to him.

Olive met Ordin’s gaze with a serene expression. “Of course, dear brother,” she replied. A graceful nod accompanied her words.

“Then take her to the west wing,” Ordin instructed, his voice leaving no room for argument. “She can stay there for the night. Take one of the guards with you.” He fixed Amber with a scrutinizing look. “And be careful… I don’t know if I trust her.”

Trust her? He was the one who had accused her of stealing the Amerist crown. Okay, maybe he was right, but that wasn’t the point. Not only had he taken Lucile away from her, but now he was patronising her? Amber saw red, her frustration bubbling to the surface, and she could no longer control her words.

“Lord or not, I won’t go anywhere with him!” she declared, gesturing defiantly at Ordin. “I would rather sleep out here under the stars. At least the moon doesn’t judge!”

The mere mention of the moon sent a visible wave of unease through the assembled guards, their hushed whispers filling the sudden silence.

“You are a curious one,” Olive tittered as she adjusted her dress. “No one wants to sleep under the stars. It could be dangerous.”

Amber backed away, the primal urge to run overwhelming. “I would rather…”

She barely finished her sentence when Ordin reached down, grabbed her around the waist, and hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Amber was stunned into silence, if only for a moment.

“We don’t have time for this,” he hissed, striding towards the mansion, each step purposeful.

“Put me down!” Amber finally found her voice, pounding on his unyielding shoulders. “I don’t like to be touched!”

“My Lord,” Ruben said, scurrying after them. “Maybe you should let her walk…”

The indignity of being hauled over Lord Ordin’s shoulder fuelled Amber’s fury. “Put me down!” she bellowed, each scream laced with a resentment born from a past that made unwanted touch a painful trigger.

“My Lord,” Ruben repeated. “I really think you should put her down.”

“We don’t have time,” Ordin growled, gesturing impatiently towards the darkening sky.

“Right, you’re right, My Lord,” Ruben conceded, though his discomfort was palpable.

This wasn’t just about Ordin’s arrogance; it was a violation. “Put me down right now!”

Still, her pleas fell on stubborn ears, the sound of his heavy footsteps a relentless rhythm against the rising panic within her.

Olive hurried to keep beside them, refusing to leave Amber’s side. They locked gazes, and Amber could see the apology in them.

“I’m so sorry,” Olive mouthed.

Once they stepped inside the mansion, they entered a world that screamed wealth and power. The polished granite floors reflected the ornate tapestries overhead, a testament to a lifestyle Amber could barely comprehend. But the wealth was meaningless. Her refuge, her shield—Lucile—was absent, leaving her vulnerable in this lavish prison.

“Ordin, please release her,” Olive asked, her voice gentle, her presence a stark contrast to her imposing brother. “This is no way to treat guests…”

Her attempt to reason with him was met with a dismissive grunt.

“I told you she can’t be trusted,” Ordin grumbled, his suspicion a palpable force.

Amber sucked in a breath, wounded by the weight of his accusation, the unfairness of being judged for something that she hadn’t done in this world!

The heavy thud of the front doors closing echoed behind Amber, confirming her worst fears. She was trapped, labelled a thief, and surrounded by strangers. The air grew thin and panic clawed at her throat.

“I will look after her,” Olive reassured, her eyes holding a promise of kindness. “Please, big brother…”

“Fine!” With obvious reluctance, Ordin relented, dropping Amber to her feet as if she were a sack of unwanted goods. “There… now she’s your problem…”

Amber shot him a glare hot enough to melt stone. Ordin, the Lord of Earth, seemed nothing more than a colossal bully towering over her.

“I want to leave, your highness!” she spat, the title dripping with sarcasm that was lost on him.

He remained unmoved, arms crossed, brows furrowed in accusation. “And I want to know how you got your hands on the Amerist crown. If you say you didn’t steal it, then tell me the truth…”

“I did!” she admitted, the half-truth twisting in her mouth. She’d confessed to finding it in her world, but not to its illicit acquisition. “I found it in my world before I crashed into yours!”

Ordin leaned in, his gaze intense and unsettling. “Thieves lie…”

Anger, hot and visceral, surged through Amber. Lord Ordin was insufferable, a suffocating presence that had transformed her fear into pure loathing.

She breached the gap between them, her face contorted with fury. “I’m not lying!”

His face inched closer, his hot breath fanning the flames of her anger. “Then how did it get into your world?”

“I don’t know!” Amber said, each word punctuated with forceful defiance.

“That’s enough of that,” Olive interjected, stepping between them and forcing Ordin to straighten. She turned to Amber, her smile reassuring. “Amber, if you would follow me, I will get you set up for the night.”

The rumbling in Amber’s stomach punctuated the invitation. A flicker of relief washed over her. Food. Shelter. Basic needs, forgotten in the chaos. How long had it been? Hours?

Olive chuckled. “And we’ll get you something to eat.”

“Fine,” Amber conceded, throwing a simmering glare in Ordin’s direction. “As long as I’m far away from him!”

A slight grin touched Olive’s soft lips as she eyed her brother with a curious glance. A silent conversation passed between them, a shared understanding that seemed to exclude Amber. Then Olive turned on her heels and headed away, beckoning Amber to follow.

Hesitantly, Amber complied, trailing Olive down a seemingly endless corridor lined with stern-faced ancestors and idyllic landscapes. Heat prickled the back of her neck, and her thoughts flickered back to Ordin.

She couldn’t help but glance back. Ordin stood where she’d left him, a statue of simmering fury. Beside him stood his companion, Ruben, a loyal shadow, still clutching the reason for her current predicament—the stolen Amerist crown.

The crown. Her meal ticket, her escape route, now seemed less like a path to prosperity and more like a catalyst for disaster. It was the reason for her current precarious situation, the reason she was standing in this unfamiliar hallway, being led by a woman she had just met, to a room that was going to be her cell for the night. If she ever saw Oakley Weathersby again, she would curse the very ground he walked on for getting her into this mess.