by Glen L. Hall
Warmth was returning to Brennus’s feet and hands, and he was glad he could feel his feet again, for he could now increase his pace and get a better look at the creature that had spoken to them. It was tall and sinewy, and naked save for long grey feathers that covered a hideous hide. It was different from the crow-men who had attacked the bookshop and Brennus couldn’t help but wonder what it was. He couldn’t tell whether it was man or beast. Could it be a Grim-were? He had heard of such things, but never expected to see one.
The wolves also were unlike any he had seen before. For the most part they travelled on four legs, but now and then they would walk on two, presenting a surreal and frightening spectacle. They perhaps weren’t entirely wolves either, as they didn’t have fur, but short black feathers. Every now and then one would turn and look at Brennus and he found he couldn’t bear to look at its eyes gleaming in the darkness.
Drust was moving on, seemingly untouched by both the wood and the strangeness of their companions. The glow of his hands had dulled, and Brennus felt strangely relieved by this.
Suddenly the wood ended and they both came to a stop, looking out at the view before them. To the east, dawn was gently breaking over what Brennus hoped was the huge hill of Ravens Knowe. Just beyond the giant hill was the home of the Forest Reivers. They would find food and shelter there. Although the creatures who were already making their way down the short slope would need explaining.
Drust seemed to be thinking the same. ‘It would be foolish to take these creatures into the homes of the Forest Reivers.’
Watching the wolves spreading out behind the feathered man, Brennus could only nod in agreement. ‘Perhaps it’s time to part company,’ he suggested.
‘Yes, although they have been of assistance,’ Drust admitted. ‘I think that without the help of those wolves we wouldn’t have found our way out of the wood so easily. What do you think of your journey through a little of the Otherland?’
‘I’m not that impressed,’ Brennus shivered. ‘And I suppose we’re going to be seeing a lot more of these places before this is over.’
‘Yes, we are. But it is now fully clear to me what the Otherland is.’
‘And what is that?’
‘It is the fracture between worlds. Look at those tortured souls back there. It is the same with the Dead Water. These places are all connected through the Otherland.’
‘There is no time to talk.’ The feathered creature had stolen back up the hill and was now standing ten feet from them. ‘The Vargr say we are hunted.’
Brennus and Drust looked at each other and this time Brennus saw a brief flash of fear in his brother’s eyes. Oddly, he took comfort from it. It made him seem more human.
‘Hunted…?’ Drust asked.
‘The more powerful of the Ruin’s servants have broken through the Fall. We did what we could, but even we cannot do anything against the unliving.’
‘Unliving?’ asked Brennus, feeling a sudden chill.
‘The Shadow Ruins.’ The creature seemed to snarl as it said it. ‘We must go. Even the wood will not be able to stop them.’
It turned and moved towards the wolves, who were back on all fours.
Brennus hesitated. ‘I really don’t like any of this, Drust. There’s no way of knowing what path to take. But I think for the moment we have no choice but to go on with them. If the Dead Water is lost, I don’t think we want to meet whoever has taken it from the Faeries, whether they are living or unliving.’
He set off down the hill, leaving the wood behind, whilst in the distance the dawn was gathering pace across Ravens Knowe. He sighed. He’d never heard of Shadow Ruins. He’d been hoping they wouldn’t have to face the Shadow again, let alone several new and possibly worse enemies. He needed more information. Though the Keepers had warned against using the Way-curves, he was going to do just that. He wanted to know what the Staff of the Druids was and why that had never been mentioned either. For a moment he felt angry as he thought of all that Oscar hadn’t told him. Now he and Drust were reduced to relying on creatures from the Underland! And could they be trusted?
Once again Brennus couldn’t help but feel inadequate and lost. Oscar had said the Underland was awake, but he hadn’t expected to meet the Grim-Witch herself at the Dead Water. She had been unwilling to help then. Why had she now sent a Grim-were and its wolves to search for him – even to help him?
How he wished her magic had not charmed out of him exactly where Sam and Emily were heading. Whatever her motives, he had to get to them first.
* * * * * *
In the half-light of a new morning they came to a stream that cut deeply through a short vale locked between two hills. On either side were plantations of conifers, but they couldn’t hide the rawness of the land. The stream was shallow but fast, winding its way down from the heights above. The Grim-were waded into its waters, clearly trying to throw their pursuers off their scent. The two wolves separated and headed off in opposite directions. Brennus watched them go, one choosing to run all fours whilst the second balanced on its hind legs, looking half-human in the light. They had soon reached the tops of the hills almost effortlessly and disappeared. Brennus couldn’t help but wonder whether this was an elaborate trap or whether their intentions were honourable. Was it all an attempt to get close to Sam? The sooner he could speak to the Keepers, the better.
He too waded into the stream. The water’s icy touch made him gasp. But he knew this was the only way to make their trail disappear, whilst whatever was following would have to break up and follow both wolves. Whatever the Grim-were might be, it was clever. This would make it a useful ally, but also a cunning enemy.
Standing in the stream’s fast-flowing waters, Brennus looked down the length of the short valley and out towards the dark fringes of Kielder Forest. In the morning glow there was no sign of the wood with its giant trees and their alien roots, but he was glad when the Grim-were left the stream’s icy fingers and started to climb the side of the valley and he and Drust followed.
The Grim-were seemed to be able to climb without ever stopping for rest and quickly pulled ahead, leaving Brennus and Drust clinging to the side of the hill and looking down at the thin line of the stream below.
‘Any more thoughts on when we try and leave these creatures?’ Brennus asked.
‘We need to know the nature of those that follow,’ Drust replied, scanning the valley. ‘These creatures are afraid of them, and we should pay heed to that. If I were you, I would get through the Blindburn, perhaps wait until we are through the Cheviots.’
They looked at each other and smiled briefly before they turned and began to climb the hill together. It was steep, and they literally had to climb the last few feet bent in two, grabbing the coarse grass and hauling themselves over a flat ridge. They came to the top of the hill with both legs and lungs burning.
The creature was standing with its feathered back to them, looking towards the east, towards the sunrise, towards the threatening Blindburn. To the south lay High Green and to the north the unmistakable rolling edge of the borderland. Even from here Brennus could make out the dark formations of Mozie Law, Beefstand Hill and Windy Gyle, where northern England embraced southern Scotland in a dramatic line of hills and valleys. To the west, Kielder Forest had become a haze of green in the morning sun.
‘If there is a way back for the Vargr, they will meet us at the gate to the Underland,’ the creature announced.
Brennus didn’t like the idea of going anywhere near the gate to the Underland. ‘Our path lies to the east,’ he said quickly.
The creature turned to face him. It was now silhouetted against the rising sun and Brennus was glad he couldn’t see the details of its scaly neck and mouth.
‘My brethren are risking their lives for us,’ it said indignantly. ‘If the Shadow Ruins catch them, they will have a life far worse than death.’
‘What are these Shadow Ruins?’ Brennus asked.
‘They are the unliving – fragments of a darkness before the First Light. They are servants of the Ruin. And they cannot be stopped by mere mortals.’
The words had been said without emotion. They had not been meant to shock, but they did.
The creature continued with more cold facts. ‘That is who you will face when the Fall dies – an enemy from before the First Light and the dawn of time. The most powerful of their kind has already passed through. Its purpose is to find the Druidae and make sure the Fall’s death is final.’
How did this creature know so much? Could they really trust it? Was it simply trying to persuade them that they needed it?
‘Why are you telling us so much?’ asked Drust, his voice showing no signs of the fizzing shock that Brennus felt.
The creature seemed to be nettled by the words. ‘All those who are connected by the Otherland are in peril,’ it said stiffly.
Drust fell silent.
The creature went on, ‘The Bodika is the wisest of all the Faeries, the most powerful of them all. She seeks the counsel of the Keepers of the Druidae. I understand your mistrust, but if we separate now, you won’t make it back without our help.’
‘How can you be sure?’ Drust demanded.
‘No one can defeat the Shadow Ruins other than the Druids carrying the flames of the First Light.’
Brennus caught a quick glance from his brother. ‘Which Druids are these?’ he asked, but the creature was shaking its head.
‘That is a question our mistress would like to ask the Keepers. Our paths must cross again. We must stand together against the enemy of the living.’
Brennus was taken aback. Weren’t these creatures the enemies of the Forest Reivers? Hadn’t the Dagda kept them asleep beneath the Cheviot Hills?
‘If we do not stand together, we will fall one by one.’
Brennus could only agree with the creature. It stood bathed in the morning sun, looking grotesque, and yet its words had an eloquence and a truth that could not be denied.
‘Now is not the time for talk. The Otherland will only have delayed them.’
They set off again under white clouds moving with a stiff wind, following a Roman path that allowed them to quicken their pace. In the far distance Brennus could see that the land was beginning to weave up and down as if they were moving towards stormy seas. On the tip of the horizon, bathed in a new morning, was the Blindburn. He knew they would have to have their wits about them there, for it was full of ancient roads crumbling into unseen gorges. The Forest Reivers travelled that way only rarely, for they believed ghosts haunted the passes. Now he and Drust were heading straight there, to the very gate of the Underland, in the company of a creature so strange it could only have come out of such a place. Brennus shook his head in wonder. Then he had to twist sharply to avoid Drust, who had stopped suddenly just in front of him.
‘What is it?’
‘I’m not sure. There is a peculiar resonance in the flow, a vibration I’ve never felt before.’
‘My brethren are being hunted,’ the creature said.
Drust turned to it, recoiling slightly from its twisted features. ‘Do the Shadow Ruins use the flow?’ he asked.
‘The flow touches only the souls of the living. The Shadow Ruins are filled only with the darkness of the Ruin – the Dark Light.’
‘Dark Light?’ repeated Drust.
‘The Ruin’s flow.’
‘That’s what it is! I can see it!’ Drust exclaimed. ‘They are dead. That explains it.’
He seemed to be looking within, almost excited. Brennus stared at him and did not like what he saw.
‘How do you know they are dead?’ Even as he asked the question, he thought the answer would be hard to bear.
‘I told you – I can feel it, this Dark Light. Do not ask me any more.’
Drust turned away.
A flicker of something like pain crossed the creature’s face. ‘My people have long suffered. There has to be a day when it stops.’
Brennus could only nod in agreement.
* * * * * *
Both Brennus and Drust kept close behind the feathered creature as it followed the remains of the Roman road, whose purpose was long forgotten. Ravens Knowe was now behind them, whilst ahead the menacing gateway to the Cheviots began to rise steeply towards the blue autumn sky with wisps of white cloud still throwing shadows across the hills and valleys.
It wasn’t long before the creature found another stream. Without breaking its stride, it left the road and ploughed through the clear and icy waters. Brennus followed, gasping once more as the cold flow spiralled through his burning legs. The Grim-were was clearly determined to cover their trail and keep them moving as quickly as both he and Drust could manage, but he knew he couldn’t keep this up for long.
Even in the morning glow, there was nothing welcoming about this landscape. There was a savage look to these hills that made Brennus feel insignificant. They were soon approaching the first one. The stream hugged its craggy side, thrown into shadow now by the rising sun. Brennus knew he would have to rest soon. The relentless flow of the water against his legs had brought him to the edge of exhaustion. Just ahead, he could tell Drust was also beginning to suffer. More than once he had fallen forwards into the stream’s chilling flow and each time he had taken longer to get back on his feet. If the creature’s intention had been to make them helpless with exhaustion, thought Brennus, then it had succeeded.
‘We need to rest for a while,’ he managed to say.
The creature turned. It seemed to be frowning and he knew instantly that it did not agree.
‘There is no time for rest. We must make the Underland gate. There is a magic there that will protect us from the Shadow Ruins, at least for a while.’
‘He is right, brother,’ added Drust. ‘If they catch us in this place, we would not survive the encounter. Whatever the wolves were, they are no more. I can see them now – they are different. Unliving. They are searching for us.’
The thought of those giant wolves being dispatched so easily sent a fearful shudder through Brennus.
‘Yes, okay, we’ll carry on.’
He grit his teeth, and, with the thought of his pursuers firmly at the forefront of his mind, began putting one foot after the other. But the last few days had taken so much out of him. He had not slept properly for over a week, not since the night in the Eagle and Child, and even the icy stream could not keep fatigue from closing its fingers around his body.
Fortunately, as the stream began to flow more freely, the creature brought them up its steepening banks. A moment later they rounded a sharp turn and the Blindburn was revealed in all its dark glory – a vista of threatening beauty, its hills and valleys sweeping down to meet the shimmering horizon; an empty wilderness, devoid of people and animals. But, if the tales were true, full of ghosts, trolls and giants. Brennus did not believe in such things, yet until the last few days he hadn’t really believed in crow-men either, let alone creatures such as the one walking before them, its strange body thankfully once more in shadow.
Almost without noticing, they had entered a deep valley with sheer drops to their left whilst to their right the gentle hills had been replaced by a rock face. They could no longer see back the way they had come and ahead the hills were becoming desolate. There were coarse grasses there, touched with heather, but there was a hostility to the place that Brennus could almost feel. His legs buckled and he found himself falling forwards, grimacing as he scraped his knees and a sharp pain passed across his back. He lay still for a moment, glad just to rest. Then he saw Drust turn and quickly make his way back.
‘Are you okay?’ Drust leaned over him.
Brennus shook his head. ‘Just give me a moment.’
‘There is no time. They are coming.’
Drust shook his head and unexpectedly pulled Brennus to his feet. ‘I know what is following and there is no way I am leaving you behind. Okay? Then let’s go.’
Brennus again was surprised at the resilience his brother had shown since being pulled from the Dead Water. But he was becoming conflicted about what this actually meant. Why exactly had the old man asked him to watch his brother?
On he went, but his legs were burning with the effort. Ahead the hills of the Blindburn beckoned, looking like an impenetrable fortress. He could not possibly scale its walls. His legs were heavy and his whole body felt numb with fatigue. Only the frightening thought of his pursuers made him set his teeth against his pain and start the climb out of the valley.
A bleak and startling landscape closed in all around him. The narrow path began to crumble, clinging desperately to foundations that had been built by ancient hands. In places it was nothing more than bits of stone.
In the distance a steep, wooded hill rose higher than any other. Brennus felt his eyes being drawn to it. Again, the trees there seemed unlike any he had seen before.
A moment later, as they traversed a sharp bend, a second valley opened up before them, split by a shimmering river that emerged from the hills and wove its way through the coarse grass. A small wooden bridge crossed the fast-flowing waters. The creature was waiting for them beside it, the full horror of its form now lit by the morning sun.
‘The gate to the Underland is beyond that wooded ridge. Beware now, for not all creatures from the Grim-scape are ruled by my mistress, and these valleys are the home of the Trow-Hulda. In the old days they lived side by side with the Forest Reivers and a long time ago fought alongside the Druidae with my mistress. But that was before the Forest Reivers began to be influenced by men. Now they are a secret people who are mistrustful of the outside world. They will be unhappy when they discover I have brought men to their lands, and unhappier still when they know what pursues us. We must move quickly and cannot stop until we are through.’