The Darkfern Lexicon Book 2 - Sanctorium, Page 2

  Chapter 2

  The Loyal Lion

  Harmony slid down the lion’s throat. Her hands desperately fumbled for a grip or ridge to hold onto but the smooth, slippery surface offered no such support. She screamed as she rapidly descended the short pipe and was ejected with a bump into his stomach.

  She opened her eyes, fearful to see the inside of a lion but curious all the same. What she found baffled her. Despite her astonishment she managed to form two conclusions very quickly. Either medical-science was very wrong about the internal workings of lions... or this was no ordinary beast. She concluded the latter was the most credible answer. After all the monstrous-feline in question was the height of a double-decker bus and made from woven tree trunks.

  The belly of the creature was not filled with organs and blood as she expected. Quite the contrary, his stomach was lavishly decorated. The interior furnishings resembled the inside of a genie's bottle. Huge swags of red and gold fabric tented the ceiling. Lanterns swung from the ceiling. Giant cushions were piled up against the curved tree trunks which formed the walls.

  The floor was hidden beneath a red carpet, its pile so luxurious and deep she left footprints as she crossed over to the round table occupying the room’s centre. She slumped into one of the surrounding cushioned-seats the lion began to move.

  The rocking-motion was similar to a boat on the open ocean; no doubt it would take some getting used to. She gathered the tattered cloak around her for protection.

  A mixture of fear and excitement was forcing her thoughts to run wild. This had to be a dream. Or perhaps it was a concussion? She had hit her head pretty hard in the ambulance.

  “Ouch!” Harmony squealed as she pinched her arm.

  If she could feel pain then maybe this couldn’t be a dream. With that realisation she surmised her predicament was a lot more serious than she first thought. Not only was she trapped in the lion’s belly but with every moment she stayed he moved further and further away from the spider’s web; her only way home.

  Harmony looked around the deluxe rib-prison. Her gaze hunted for an escape hatch or weak point where she could break out. Sadly, the structure seemed to be in good condition. Resigned to remain a prisoner she investigated the room in more detail.

  She approached a rectangle of curtains. She drew them back and discovered a large bed tucked away inside. Immediately her gaze fell upon a substantial painting hanging over the slumber-spot.

  The portrait, surrounded by an opulent golden frame, depicted a smiling woman. She was seated on a golden throne and dressed in a magnificent, grey robe. Atop her head she wore a tall crown which looked to be fashioned from pure light. Her red hair, decorated with sparkling jewels, cascaded in abundant ringlets down to her waist.

  Harmony stared at the imposingly-regal canvas; her mouth gawked in awe at both its contents and splendour. This was the same woman from her dream and the painted doors in the cottage. It was a Nova…

  Now she was utterly confused. How could this be? Why was her great aunt (a mad, old woman with a collection of burned books and a cottage surrounded by wolves) on a painting in the belly of monster? The connection between the lion and Nova was evident, though she had yet to grasp the meaning.

  Harmony was normally quite accepting of coincidence but this was beyond a joke. She laughed at the absurdity of her situation. Harmony imagined her mother would have relished such an adventure. In fact she was sure, given the same predicament, Rose would have had a great time.

  This was admittedly a very strange situation, but who was she to argue with reality? All she could do was accept what was happening and go along with it.

  She climbed onto the bed. It was supernaturally comfortable, like lying on a warm, fluffy cloud. Exhaustion from the events of the day made her eyes heavy. Her mind buzzed with questions and excitement, like the feeling of waiting for Christmas morning. Alas her body was too tired to stay awake. The gentle rocking of the lion and the warm, comfort of the cot soon lulled her into a dreamless sleep.