Marthandia

Prologue

One stormy night, deep in the heart of the country, a baby was born. This baby was the first and only child born to her family. She was the beginning and end to her parents and they loved her to pieces. They were the definition of happiness, but it didn't last long. When the child, Margaret Hillstone, was ten months old something terrible happened that shattered their peaceful lives. She was lying in her crib when the window blew open. As her mother, Beatrice Sterling, went to close it a huge pair of talons reached into the room, grabbed Beatrice and flew off. The creature that had taken her was called a Night-flyer. Night-flyer's are large, eagle-like creatures. They hunt at night and most sleep during the day but some fly in daylight as well. They blow open windows and grab whoever comes to close them. Why they do this, few know. Many say they eat their victims or use their victims' bones to decorate their nests.

The Night-flyer had flown off into the cold evening sky before someone could have stopped him. Peter Hillstone heard a noise from his daughter's nursery. He burst into the room only to find his daughter wailing, and torn curtains. He didn't look for Beatrice, he knew what had happened. They couldn't have hid forever. Peter never married again, he raised Margaret with his mother Patricia Hillstone.

"The Prince saved the Princess and they lived happily ever after. The End!" my grandmother said closing the book.

"Read it again. Read it again. Please!" I said. "Why don't you give your gran a break?" my dad said from the doorway.

"Daddy!" I screeched rushing into his arms. "Hey sweetheart." he said. He pulled me in for a bear hug. I buried my head in his sandy brown hair, identical to mine. He smelt like aftershave and shampoo. I love that smell. It makes me feel safe.

"How was work?" I said. "It was fine sweetie, how was your day?" He said. "It was really good. I drew a lot, and made a new friend, she's from America and has a weird accent." I said.

"That's nice Maggie. I have to speak to your grandmother quickly, why don't you go play in your room for a little while." he said. I walked towards my bedroom but turned back halfway. I stood at the door and listened to my father and grandmother talking.

I cannot remember what my father said exactly, all I remember is "case no longer being investigated" and " declared missing, not dead". That is why I will not mourn my mother. She is missing, not dead.

***

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