by S J Howland
‘We envied those created bigger and more powerful. We were so sure that they looked down on us, took advantage of us and did not honour us as they should. Bitterness grew like a worm in our hearts and we were ripe for the words of one who told us we deserved so much more than we had: that what was not freely given to us, both in words and deeds, should be taken with force.’ The image of the serpent with its flickering tongue, hissing into the ear of the cold-faced brownie glowed out again from the wall and Xander realised that the song itself had become sibilant and menacing. ‘We deceived those who trusted us; our tongues were twisted with lies.’
The Tani’s hand clasped his arm and then she joined in the lament. Xander found he could understand, as she translated the words as she sang:
‘Grasp for more than hands can hold,
eyes devouring, hearts stone-cold.
Itching ears for serpent’s tongue,
turned from truth; deceitful song
of power and might, the ancient wrong.’
The Tani took a quick breath, as more terrible images leapt out from the wall, and then continued on as the song changed, becoming faster, more anguished.
‘Following, pride-blinded, a pretty path of lies,
wide the way, swift our feet, departing from the wise.
Good for evil, evil good, up rose the twisted cry;
walk into the darkness, do not question why.
Until, too late, the power unleashed and boiled into the sky.’
The song ceased for a moment of terrible quiet, as the light fell on an image of a night sky rent open with livid, lurid shades of yellow and green. Xander’s eyes were wide as he stared at trees, buildings and hillsides lit up by the arcing, sickly light and then vaporised, brownies struck down alongside all of the other races. The music began again, a hushed moan, and the Tani’s voice continued in his ear, pouring out their sadness and their failure.
‘Star-struck, star-stone, blazing through the land,
earth rocked, air roiled, sea driven out from sand.
Too late for sorrow, too late our grief,
stunned, destroyed, in disbelief.
And then, unlooked for, came relief.’
The song rose in a hopeful note at the end and Xander’s gaze was drawn up, up to the top of the wall where a picture gleamed out of a group of figures, some clearly human, some giant and others small like hobs. They were racing forward, one of the smaller ones with a hand held high, blazing with a blue-white flame, towards a large platform on a rock surrounded with turbulent water. The Tani fell silent and nodded her head quietly, the song continuing on as she turned to Xander.
‘We were rescued from the darkness of our own making by those whom we had betrayed. We could not control what we had helped to unleash, but others stood forward at that dark hour and drove it back, saved us all. And then we, who least deserved it, were given a place in our world, and safety, by those we would have destroyed. We knew then that we must make amends, must repay the kindness and the courage. Most importantly, we knew that we must never allow this to happen again.’
The Tani bowed her head and Xander just sat, rooted to the spot, as the notes of the un-ending song flowed on and the strange, vivid images swam in and out of the moving light. It felt unreal; the terror at Mistleberry followed by this hypnotic moment in the dim light, with the sharp, strange smell of incense in his nose.
A small hand touching his shoulder brought him back to himself and he turned to see that the Tan and Tani had risen, and were waiting patiently behind him. He scrambled to his feet and followed them out, ducking beneath the veil with a final, dazed look back into the chamber.
The Tani led him back to the pile of cushions and drew him down to sit beside her. As if by an invisible signal, a group of brownies hurried over with trays of tiny cakes and little sweet-smelling pastries, and another richly scented bowlful of drink was pressed into his hand.
‘Eat, before we talk further,’ urged the Tan, as other brownies settled down around him on the cushions, eating and chatting together in soft voices.
Xander had not realised how hungry he was until the first pastries melted in his mouth, tasting of cheese and the tang of strange herbs, or how tense he had been until he met the gentle smiles of the little figures which gathered around him, and felt the peace of this place melt into his bones and muscles.
When Xander was sipping at his third bowl of tea, the Tan finally spoke again.
‘Now that you understand our past, we can speak to you of our present. After we were saved, we knew that we must seek a different path. We were humbled by the gift we had received without merit.’
The Tani smiled and took up the story.
‘From the depths of darkness we were called to freedom and our people knew that we must not take this gift to fulfil our own desires but first, through love, to serve others. In humility, we would count others more significant than ourselves, as a shield against the wickedness that had overcome us. So, we re-ordered our own society and in this spirit we reached out to humbly serve those who had shown us such grace.’
‘However,’ said the Tan with a wry look, ‘it is never so simple in practice, is it? We went out to serve freely, and people tried to repay us in money, or goods or words of gratitude enough to turn our heads. We, who did not deserve these – no, not one – what could we do? Then, into our urgent counsels spoke the voice of a little one.’ He turned to a tiny brownie who was sitting next to her parents, her huge eyes fastened on Xander with open curiosity. ‘What did the child say?’ he asked her gently.
The little brownie sat up, beaming at the Speakers.
‘We could bless best if no-one saw,’ she said in a small silvery voice.
‘That’s right,’ said the Tani. ‘And so it began. At first, we went to help others in the dark of night or when they were not there to see us, but as the centuries passed, the stories told in the world about our service shifted and transformed, until they bequeathed us invisibility itself. In this, we find freedom and the fulfilment of our ancient pledge.’ She leant forward and placed a hand, soft as cobwebs, on Xander’s arm as a smile lit up her gentle face. ‘But we also found something unexpected, our great gift and joy. We learned that as we served in darkness, our own lives became illuminated.’
Xander blinked, trying to turn this over in his head and feeling rather overwhelmed, but the Speakers had not yet finished. The Tan rose to his feet. ‘Now you understand all of what we are,’ he said, ‘but we have one more thing to show you.’
He beckoned to Xander to follow him and Xander got up, towering once more over the brownies around him. He followed the erect little figure across the open space, to a wooden door so old and grey it blended into the stone wall. It was large by brownie standards, more than double the Tan’s height, but Xander had to crouch down to go through it. As he straightened up he realised that he was standing on shale and rock, perched on a ledge jutting out of a great stony cliff which was lit by moonlight, gleaming out fitfully from behind skeins of cloud. Before him was a heavy, grey sea and down below long rolling waves crashed ceaselessly onto a shingle beach, sucking the stones backwards into the surf in a rhythm that Xander suddenly recognised; this was the continual pulse behind the music of the brownies’ lament.
As he breathed in the cool, salty air, Xander realised that the Tan had not waited for him and was already a considerable way down the steep path that led to the beach below. He hurried after him, stepping carefully in the dusky light. When Xander reached the shingle beach, he glanced back up at the way he had come. The little door was almost invisible, but a stray gleam of moonlight reflected off tiny windows in the rock face and Xander realised that the whole of the brownies’ home was actually built inside the cliff itself.
Still moving swiftly, the Tan led Xander along the beach, their feet crunching on the shingle mixed with fine sand and then paused, pointing upwards. ‘This is our way now,’ he said, and Xander could just make out another ledge, with the faint,
dark gash of a cave or crevice in the rock face. ‘Can you manage the climb?’
As Xander eyed the steep gradient, privately he considered that the old brownie should be more concerned about doing the climb himself; it looked well beyond the reach of the little figure. A few minutes later, Xander was ruefully re-thinking this estimation as he heaved himself up the cold, rough rock, while the brownie seemed to flit effortlessly before him. Finally, Xander dragged himself onto his stomach on the ledge and twisted around, the salt air burning in his throat. The Tan waited with patient composure while Xander caught his breath and then gestured to the cleft in the rock.
‘In here,’ he said, before vanishing into the dark space.
Xander heaved a sigh and then struggled to his feet. The cleft was not wide and the sharp rocks tugged at Xander’s clothes and jabbed at his ribs as he squeezed through. The moonlight was barely sufficient for him to make out the brownie standing just in front of him with an expectant expression on his face, and Xander blinked as he peered around. Initially he saw nothing but a pile of jumbled stones to his left, but then he stiffened. Faint threads of light were flickering across one of the stones, roughly tablet-shaped and half buried beneath the other rocks, illuminating the worn symbols carved into its face. Xander gasped and dropped to his knees to look more closely at it.
‘As I thought,’ said the old brownie gently. ‘It responds to your call.’
‘It’s a Traveller’s Stone,’ said Xander, his voice shocked. ‘And it’s still working! But – how is this possible?’
‘That, I am afraid, I cannot tell you,’ replied the Tan. ‘We are not to be trusted with such knowledge, and so we buried our memories so deep that only the stars can remember. Our song speaks of this.’
‘Only the stars can remember,’ repeated Xander. ‘That doesn’t really help me because apparently they aren’t talking.’ He shook his head in frustration, as the fine filaments of light continued to shiver in the faint grooves on the stone.
The Tan moved to stand beside Xander. ‘I did not bring you here to give you yet more unanswered questions, but to give you the gift of choice.’
‘What does that mean?’ asked Xander, although he had an inkling of what was coming.
‘There is a symbol upon this Stone which will take you home again, right back to where you began this journey, if you so choose,’ the brownie said, his ageless eyes resting gently on Xander, before he turned to point out a glimmering mark on the second row. ‘You could take your orb and your new found knowledge, and return. You have the ability to keep yourself and your home, your kin, safe now.’
‘I didn’t do too well at Mistleberry just now,’ muttered Xander, feeling his ears burn. ‘I wouldn’t have made it at all if you hadn’t rescued me.’
‘You did not fail, Xander,’ replied the Tan. ‘You chose to give in to your fear and your doubt, and you chose to hide. When you have faith, and stand strong without wavering, you will overcome the darkness.’
‘Maybe,’ allowed Xander, rather doubtfully. Without thinking, his fingers stroked his orb and it blossomed into gentle light under his touch. In response, the Traveller’s Stone blazed into brighter illumination, the symbols now clear and crisp on the stone. Xander stared at it and then back at the Tan, who was watching him with quiet sympathy.
‘What do you think I should do?’ asked Xander, suddenly desperate for some guidance. He felt like he had been stumbling through his time in Haven, unable to see or understand what was expected of him. ‘Do you think I should leave? Is that why you brought me here?’
The old brownie smiled at him, his silvery hair gleaming in the dim cave and his eyes crinkling with affection, and shook his head.
‘Oh no, Xander King,’ he replied, his voice soft but firm. ‘My people have learned our lesson; never again will we partake in the folly and evil of forcing actions on others, nor will we manipulate. The greatest and most important freedom we are given is that of making our own choices. This decision is for you to make, no other.’
‘Yes, well, my choices haven’t really been very good, so far,’ muttered Xander, petulantly.
‘Maybe, maybe not, but they have brought you here, to this place,’ said the Tan. ‘I will make you another gift, Xander; the gift of time. I will return to our home and the door will be left open for you. If you do not come back to us then we will know that you have chosen to go home and I will wish you well in your journey there. If you choose to stay, we will return you to your friends’ home and you can follow your path here. The decision rests with you.’
With a little pat on Xander’s hand, the brownie turned and slipped through the cleft in the rock out onto the ledge. Xander hesitated a moment, staring at the Stone and then jumped to his feet and squeezed his way through the gap. The ledge was empty and as he peered down there was no sign of the Tan, either on the rocks or the beach below.
‘How fast can he move?’ wondered Xander out loud, shaking his head in disbelief. He slumped down on the rocky shelf and dangled his legs over the edge. ‘Well, this is just great, isn’t it?’ he growled. ‘Make your decision, Xander. Catastrophe or disaster, the choice is yours.’
He glared out over the restless waves, grey and forbidding under the dark sky. He could just choose to go home, he thought. He didn’t belong here anyway, and everyone would probably be glad that he was gone. With a sudden pang, the thought of Mrs Stanton’s face popped into his mind – her warmth and the way she had welcomed him into her family. Wouldn’t she worry if he just didn’t come back? And Ollie and Len might blame themselves if he disappeared after that horrible fight with them. Were they still waiting for him and panicking that he hadn’t come back? Maybe they had told Flint and Ari by now and everyone was looking for him. He shook his head.
‘Well, they certainly won’t find me here,’ he said. He kicked his feet into the rock wall below and several pieces broke off and tumbled down to the beach below. As he looked out over the sea, it felt rather as though he was sitting on the edge of the world. The lines of white foam on the waves moved and ran into each other ceaselessly and, as his eyes followed them, he thought of the vivid image in the brownie’s lament, the lines on the water shifting into the faces and bodies of mysterious creatures. He shivered, feeling the hypnotic strangeness of those pictures again, so vivid and unforgettable, particularly the pale, pillared platform with the mirror wall reflecting the night sky, while lightning arced and struck at it.
‘Only the stars remember now,’ muttered Xander, with an irritated snort. ‘Why can’t people just talk plainly here? Only the stars remember – so not helpful.’
His voice trailed away as his mind wandered down that train of thought and focussed on the vivid image of stars reflected in a mirrored wall. This blurred into another of the pictures he had seen, of a small group hurrying towards a stone platform on a rocky promontory surrounded by turbulent water. Many of the pillars had fallen and it was in ruins, but it was still unmistakable. It was the same place, Xander realised and then he stiffened, suddenly rigid as comprehension dawned.
‘Rock upon the water,’ he whispered. ‘Stars will lead the way.’
It had certainly changed, extra walls and levels had been added to it, but he could recollect clearly the beautiful shining structure and see the original shape within it, the ancient bones of a pillared platform with a wall of stars.
‘It’s the Pavilions,’ he breathed. That was the place the people had been running so desperately to reach, to avert the great calamity that the brownies were still atoning for, and that was the place the mysterious messages were trying to direct him towards now. It hadn’t been the hobs’ Core at all that he was meant to restore, just as Len had said.
Xander scrambled to his feet, and then caught a sudden glimpse of glimmering light from inside the cleft, where the Traveller’s Stone stood waiting for him. He hesitated a moment, realising that this was his real choice. He could stay in this place, with all of its dangers and uncertainties and fight on, or e
lse he could go home and step back into his old life. In the end, his hesitation did not last long.
‘This may be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,’ Xander said to the Traveller’s Stone, just out of sight. ‘But I’m staying.’
Without a second glance, he lowered himself over the edge of the little ledge and began to climb down, his feet scrabbling in the darkness for the notches and hollows he had used to get up there. He slid down the last few feet and stood on the beach again, only slightly out of breath. The cleft and its faint light were invisible now, blending into the rough cliff face. Hurriedly, Xander retraced his earlier route along the base of the cliff and then clambered up the steep path to the old grey door, waiting ajar for him. He bent over to get through it and almost bumped into the Tan, who was standing before him with a warm and approving smile on his parchment face.
‘You knew what I would choose,’ Xander said. It wasn’t a question.
‘We have watched you and seen who you are,’ replied the old brownie. ‘The only one who doubted your choice was you.’
The Tani appeared by his side and then reached up to grasp Xander’s hand.
‘You have found your path and we wish you well, Xander King. Remember that you are not alone on your journey, and step out in faith.’
Her words were oddly formal and both she and the Tan raised their right hands in the same gesture of farewell. Xander was struck again by the sudden urge to bow but just waved his hand back rather awkwardly. A moment later, hand still half-raised, he found himself standing in the lane outside the gate to Woodside with the small figures of Brolly and Spike beside him, barely visible in the dusk.
‘Home again,’ said Brolly, his cheerful grin so wide it looked like his cheeks might split. Spike’s head bobbed up and down in animated agreement.
Xander smiled back at them both. ‘Thank you,’ he began, but Spike immediately put his finger to his lips and shook his head.
‘All gone now,’ he whispered.
Both brownies put their hands over their eyes and tiptoed to the hedge with exaggerated stealth, bumping into one another and crashing into several branches, before disappearing through into the garden beyond. Xander stared after them blankly, before realising that this was the brownies’ way of wordlessly restoring the status quo. They were invisible again. He lifted one hand in a silent salute to them both, before opening the gate and hurrying down the path towards the lights of Woodside.