by A. E. Wright
Chapter Four - The Moonstone Scythe
ROSAMAYLIND WAS TAKEN aback by the abruptness of Merls greeting. Her eyebrows arched toward the top of her head, distorting her radiant features.
"Greetings Merrydian, Violet, I apologise for the interruption at this late hour." She began, regaining her usual calm composure. "Yesterday, one of our scouts returned from a period of imprisonment at Forge Gate. I think the information she passed on will be of great interest to you." Merl stepped out of the doorway, as he pulled open the sitting room door for Rosamaylind to enter it gave a defiant creak. Merl's eyes darted toward the upstairs rooms, Elba, the only other person in the house, was undisturbed by the noise. Seemingly assured that she wasn't awake, he beckoned for Rosamaylind and me to enter.
I knew it was childish but I couldn't help feeling a prang of jealousy that Merl was treating Elba as if she were some kind of china doll who might break at any moment. Not that I begrudged her a good night's sleep, of course I didn't. Especially after everything she had been through. I just couldn't understand why he had taken such a shine to her all of a sudden, it was not Merl's way.
Rosamaylind fluffed the battered cushion on the withered old bench that I usually sat upon. Banshees were used to such splendour; I guess it would have been like sitting on a rock to her. Merl perched himself in his usual seat. I lingered in the doorway for a moment before positioning myself next to Merl. I didn't want to sit, my back had begun to ache, either from the tumble downstairs or the rickety old bed, I wasn't sure.
Whenever I used to get back injuries at 'Brick a Bracks' I'd usually spend the day walking it off, a technique that always worked for me. How odd it seemed that I used to be an ordinary girl, with an ordinary job, who could never have imagined the path my walk through life would take me down. Rosamaylind interrupted my quiet musings.
"I should not be here Merrydian, you understand that I imagine." It wasn't a question, more a statement of fact, Queen Evangelista was very close to waging war on the Worlen before Agrona awoke. Thistlewick Castle and the whole of the Banshee people were supposed to be on lockdown ever since. It was obvious that the queen had not sent Rosmaylind to Blossomdown.
"I had gathered as much." Merl replied.
"As I have already said, our best scout Ffion returned from Forge Gate yesterday. Weeks ago, Ffion and another scout, Lillith, were sent on a mission to collect information about the happenings in Forge Gate. Queen Evangelista wanted Agrona to be seen by Banshee eyes before she made any kind of declaration of war against her."
"Why, does she find it difficult to trust most of Falinn Galdur? How about Merl, he saved your people from a hoard of Changelings, is he not worthy of her trust?" I asked angrily. Rosamaylind eyed me accusingly.
"Do not forget Violet, why the Changelings were attacking in the first place." She stated coolly.
"I remember exactly why the Changelings attacked." I replied. "It had a lot to do with Jestin and I saving your niece's life."
"That is not how Dahlia recalls it." Rosamaylind shot back. "Her version of events has little to do with you saving her life. She insists that you shot a Changeling during a target practice and Jestin finished it off, thus prompting the Changelings to attack our castle."
"That's a lie!" Was that the reason we were sent from Thistlewick Castle so abruptly, because Dahlia was making up lies about Jestin and me? I was horrified that my oldest friend could betray me so easily. It was especially crushing after I'd walked through an enchanted forest for her, nearly dying in the process, and then saved her life. What was Dahlia thinking? Why would she do this to me? As if I had spoken my thoughts aloud, Merl provided the answer.
"Love is a strange emotion. An emotion that can give a blind being new eyes and in the same instance, it blinds those that have the clearest of vision. Let us not forget that Dahlia's vision can, at best, only be described as cloudy. You love your niece Rosamaylind?" Merl asked Rosamaylind. The question was a revelation to me, of course, it was Idris! That slimy snake must have put Dahlia up to lying, but why?
Rosamaylind seemed unsure, an internal battle played out on her face, as if she was weighing up just who had more reason to lie.
"Indeed I love my niece. I am not unaware she is being manipulated by Idris, that much is clear to even the greatest of us." Rosamaylind said a little sadly. Did she mean the queen? If she did, then why was Queen Evangelista allowing Idris to corrupt Dahlia?
"Please accept my apology for accusing you Violet. I will reserve my judgment until I know you better." She concluded. I smiled in response, trying to defuse some of the tension within the room, the last thing I needed was another enemy.
"Now Rosamaylind, if you could resume your tale." Merl asked impatiently.
"Before our scouts were captured and held prisoner at Forge Gate, they managed to gather scraps of information from the conversations of passing Gnarls. We believe that Agrona is holding back her attack. She is waiting until she has procured a powerful weapon, a weapon that is hidden, before she makes her move."
"What weapon?" I was the impatient one now. I was also the only one that didn't already know the weapon that Rosamaylind was talking of.
"The Moonstone Scythe." Merl answered. "It is a weapon that is particularly deadly to the Worlen kind. It was commissioned for Queen Hevra during the Banshee-Worlen conflict. Imbued with the blood of a Bugul Noz, it is a formidable and deadly instrument. It can pierce a Worlen's hide instantly."
"I believe my mother had the Scythe before the conflict begun Merrydian. Also it is capable of so much more than what you have described." Rosamaylind interjected, much to Merl annoyance.
"If any weapon has a chance of breaking the barrier the Bobbins have created around Blossomdown, it is the Scythe." Merl added.
"Why would the Banshees' need a weapon like that? I mean, I know that the two races haven't been the best of friends but a weapon so deadly, it just seems a bit harsh." I said.
"The Worlen have resided on the island much longer than the Banshees', some settling here long before Merl created the gate. When the Banshees' joined the island and begun to make their home on Thistlewick Marshes, the Worlen became a little, shall we say, territorial." Rosamaylind explained. "My mother had anticipated as much and had the Scythe created before we journeyed through the gate."
"I believe there might be more to the explanation than mere territorialism although I will concede that was undoubtedly part of it. Let us not forget that the Worlen came to the island to escape the idea, embedded deep within the human psyche, that they were no more than monsters. The Banshees' long held prejudices against the Worlen did not help the situation much and the discovery of the Scythe created a century long barrier to peace between the two." Merl offered his unbiased opinion. Rosamaylind simply shrugged.
"But its hidden right?" I was trying to be optimistic. "I mean no-one knows where it is so we're okay."
"Don't be such a buffoon Violet." Merl began. "Of course somebody knows where it is, Queen Evangelista journeys to the place it is hidden every one hundred years, retrieves it and then hides it somewhere new."
"The last time my sister made a significant journey out of Thistlewick, she came back impregnated with Dahlia. That was a mere eighteen years ago." Rosamaylind offered. Eighteen years is a drop in the ocean to a Banshee.
"So the Scythe is hidden somewhere at the Giants Causeway?" I asked, remembering Dahlia had told me that her mother and father met there. Rosamaylind nodded her head.
"As long as Queen Evangelista remains in the safety of Thistlewick Castle, then Agrona can't find the Scythe." I stated optimistically.
"I fear not." Merl answered me but looked toward Rosamaylind knowingly.
"Thistlewick Castle is not hidden by a veil of magic, nor has it been since my mother Queen Hevra - embraced may she be - died. It was her magic that protected the castle and it died when she did. Ever since we have preserved the myth that the castle is hidden and fortunately, it has kept us safe. If Evangelista lead
s an attack on Agrona's Gnarl army and they attack in return, the castle and all of the Banshee people are dangerously exposed." Rosamaylind's usually melodic voice rung with an air of desperation.
"Then you must make sure the queen does not attack the Gnarl army before we have properly equipped ourselves for the fight." Merl stated.
"That is why I came for your help Merrydian. Only one of our scouts returned. The other, a young woman named Lillith, was mercilessly tortured to death. Evangelista is furious. She plans to march on Forge Gate very soon." Rosamaylind sounded as alarmed as I felt. Merl stroked his beard calmly.
"You must be weary Rosamaylind. I assume you have travelled from Thistlewick alone?" Merl asked.
"I admit my legs feel a little weak, I have not walked such a distance in a very long time." She conceded.
"Then take a room upstairs, there are two spare. One of which is engraved with a G, the other a B."
"Banshees do not sleep Merrydian." Rosamaylind reminded him.
"I'm afraid that wizards do, Rosamaylind. Perhaps you could go to one of the rooms, until the hour is a more sociable one, and rest or reflect." Rosamaylind nodded in agreement. It was widely understood that Merl was not the most welcoming host and if he offered you a room in his home, he didn't do so lightly. Rosamaylind seemed to appreciate the gesture, smiling politely toward Merl as she disappeared upstairs.
I lingered for a moment. I was in no rush to get back to my chilly room with its tiny and uncomfortable bed. Merl raised his arm and pointed toward the upstairs. He was sending me to bed, as a parent would a naughty child. The arm of his green all-in-one pyjama suit was torn and stained red.
"Merl, you're bleeding!" I gasped.
"Probably because of that ruddy trip down the stairs." He stated. The accusation in his voice was obvious. "Now off to bed." He commanded. With a heavy heart and an aching back, I obeyed.
The remainder of the night sleep was uncomfortable, I managed about two or three hours at best, I awoke to the sound of Bettery's chirpy voice below. I was grateful for her reassuring presence. She was the natural mother figure that I craved right now. I know she was angry that I took the spell but she would never take it out on me personally.
The smell of freshly fried wild mushrooms and the snapping sound of sizzling bacon filled my senses, tantalising them into a state of ferocious hunger. What I needed to recover from my shock at Dahlias betrayal and terrible night's sleep was a nice big breakfast. I followed my nose dreamily all the way to the kitchen. My tongue grew moist at the thought of the salty bacon meeting with my engorged taste buds, the warm mushrooms slithering down my throat satisfyingly. Bettery's warm smile greeted me as I entered the room.
"Hello deary, I hope you had a good rest last night I do. Merl says you've got some travelling to do today. You're going in search of Jestin you are deary. You'll be glad of that I wager." My heart fluttered like a graceful butterfly toward my mouth, Finally Merl was taking me to find Jestin. As soon as my feelings of elation arose, they dissipated into the ether. We were not going to find Jestin, it was just the cover story; we were going to gather items for the spell. I held on to the echo of emotion from my moment of thinking we were going to search for Jestin and answered with as much pretence of happiness as I could.
"Yes," I smiled. "I know he's alive. I can feel it."
"I wouldn't be so optimistic." Elba's reply was harsh. It stung a little that she could say the words so casually. Whether she knew it or not, I suspect not, she was talking about her twin brother. I hadn't even noticed her at the table until she interrupted the conversation with her unwelcome comments.
"Why not? You would have been before," I stopped before I dug myself into a hole.
"Before what Violet? Before I was captured and tortured by Gnarls." I was too late, I'd said enough to give her ammunition. "You're right, I would have been. I was stupid then." She stated calmly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean?" Elba waved her hand at me dismissively. My stomach churned loudly, reminding me that I was hungry.
"What are you cooking Bettery? Can I help?" I asked. I always gave her a hand if she needed one. My mother always said, the best way to learn to cook was to watch a great cook and Bettery was a great cook.
"No thank you deary, I'm clearing now I am. The last of the food is on the table." I looked toward the table just as Elba emptied the last remaining scraps of mushroom and bacon onto her already overloaded plate. She didn't look me in the eye, but she was smirking secretly. What had gotten into everybody? First Dahlia and now Elba? I hope this new, distorted version of Elba was not here to stay. I sat as far across the table from her as I could get and began picking at a dry piece of bread. It wasn't long until Merl entered.
"Good morning, Elba, Violet." It seemed Elba came first in the morning greetings now too. I internally reprimanded myself for being so petty as soon as the thought had occurred to me. "My beard Violet, you have a face that could shade a thousand suns. I hope I'm not expected to tolerate such a gloomy expression throughout the entire course of our outing?" Merl had a knack of saying these things without the slightest hint of irony. He was the most miserable person I'd ever met. He was the personification of years upon years of accumulated misery, rolled into a cantankerous medley of antisocial sentiment and general standoffishness. Yet I was the one who had a face that could shade a thousand suns? I smiled inwardly at my elaborate insult. It was a good one, although I'd never be brave enough to speak it aloud. Not even if this spell gave me a thousand times the power Merl was capable of wielding. No matter how flawed Merl was, he was like a grandfather to me; which I suppose he was distantly.
Merl fiddled around in one of the lower cupboards, eventually producing two large glass jars. I recognised them immediately; they were the jars that held the wings we flew over Loch Du with last summer.
"We are travelling as the birds do Violet, I expect you in the garden in a few moments." With that, he disappeared through the back door, both jars in hand.
I finished my dry bread whilst watching Elba tip her untouched breakfast into the composting pile. There were no bins on Falinn Galdur but almost everything was made from natural products. Waste was either recycled, as with old cloths and linens, or used as substance for other living things, like compost for plants or thrown to one of the many village pets. I silently wondered if I could take Elba in a fight, probably not but I had a bow. Once again, surprised by my own internal immaturity, I followed Merl into the garden.
"Where are we off to?" I asked quietly and glancing around to make sure I was not heard. I still had to keep up the pretence that we were travelling to Galdur Wood in search of Jestin.
"To retrieve the Waters of Roseworth, we must journey to the north of England. There, they spring from a natural pool, a remarkable sight to behold if you can get near them. I trust you have your bow?"
"As always." My bow had become like a third arm to me.
"Keep it close by, you may need it. The last time I visited the Goblins, Grangless's son, Grogog was not particularly impressed when I took a bucketful of the waters home with me."
"How unimpressed?" I asked cautiously.
"Well, on a scale of one to murderous Goblin king, I would say he was quite angry." Merl smirked like mischievous child.
"Great, so what are we going to do, just casually stroll up to this Grogog guy and say, hello Grogog I know I stole your water before and you pretty much hate me for that but do you mind if I have a drop more? I need it to complete a spell." Merl's thunderous frown told me he didn't appreciate my sarcasm.
"No we are not Violet. Put on your wings."
I took my perfectly preserved crow wings out of the jar and passed them to Merl.
"Drochi" he stated clearly, pushing the wings painfully into the skin on both of my shoulder blades. I felt the familiar burning ache as my own skin and bones became one with the rapidly expanding wings. This time I kept my balance much better. The first time I had the wings on I'd almost toppled over with the w
eight. Merl attached his own wings as gracefully as the last time. With every minute movement of his back and arm muscles, his Falcon wings shifted with the same fluidity and grace of the limbs he possessed by virtue of nature.
"Are you ready?" Merl asked. I checked that both my bow and my sack were in position and flexed my own wings slightly, enjoying the rustling sound they made as they beat against the air.
"Yes." I answered confidently. I was ready to fly.