The Power of Seven

by Peter R. Ellis

  September realised that she was not doing much good perched on a mountaintop. Perhaps she should search for Malice. Maybe she had adopted the Arsyllfa, the scene of her greatest victory, as her base on Earth. September launched herself into the sky on a trajectory that brought her, in minutes, to the ruins of the observatory.

  She landed on what remained of the observing platform. The marble floor was cracked and the instruments gone. Even the girders of iron, gold, lead and tin that had protected it were twisted and broken. The stairway was destroyed so September changed into her cobra-shape and slid over and around the smashed stone. She surveyed one floor after another. All was quiet but nothing remained undamaged or unviolated. The books in the Mordeyrn’s study were torn and burned; each cludydd’s room was ripped apart; even the room that had kept her safe while the Arsyllfa was being invaded had been destroyed after her departure. She found tiny scraps of paper – all that remained of Heulyn’s journal -, bits of soiled cloth among the splintered wood of the wardrobe and a fused puddle of metal that she guessed was the fate of Tudfwlch’s sword and the gifts she had received from the cludyddau of Amaethaderyn. This destruction was a sign of Malice’s spite – it had done her twin no good but was just an outlet for her anger when September had escaped with Heulwen.

  September slithered to the lower floors finding the decaying bodies of victims of the Cyhyraeth, and others burned by Cwn annwn or turned to dwindling heaps of dust by Gwyllian.

  She listened carefully, broadcasting her love, reaching out tentatively, tuning out the continent-wide chatter of cludyddau o efyddyn. The Arsyllfa was silent and dead, but there was a distant whisper. People she knew were somewhere – not near but not that far away either. She slid to a gap in the walls, changed into the form of the eagle and launched herself into the air.

  The voices were still there. She circled until she was sure of their direction then soared away from the observatory heading southeast. High she flew, over hills and valleys and the voices in her head grew stronger. Then in the dying rays of the day’s sun she saw four figures, trudging through meadowland beside a stream. She swooped down to them.

  The leader, a man, looked up and saw her. He shouted with alarm and the small group scattered. September landed and turned into her normal self.

  “Don’t worry. It’s me,” she called. Each of the figures paused in their effort to escape and turned to look at her. The two closest to her she recognised as Heini and Arianrhod, the elderly bearers of mercury and silver. The two who had run the furthest were a young man and woman who September vaguely recalled working at the Arsyllfa. Each of the four retraced their steps to approach her.

  “Cludydd? Is it really you?” Arianrhod said.

  “You were transformed into a bird.” Heini marvelled. The two young people were silent and awestruck.

  “I have gained new powers,” September explained.

  “Tell us, please,” Arianrhod said, “but night falls and we must make camp.”

  “Not that we possess the means to entertain you or indeed to satisfy all our needs,” Heini said.

  “We escaped the downfall of the Arsyllfa with nothing,” Arianrhod explained. Nevertheless they quickly chose a spot beneath a group of trees, found wood for a fire and a few handfuls of nuts to eat. Soon all five were seated in a circle and September explained quickly what had happened to her among the planets, her rescue of Heulwen and meeting with Aurddolen and the others.

  Heini’s and Arianrhod’s faces darkened at the mention of Heulwen but their relief that there were at least some other survivors of the disaster at the Arsyllfa was clear.

  “We thought we were all that were left alive,” Arianrhod said, “we saw so many die and I could do nothing to heal the fallen.”

  “You must have gone in a different direction to Aurddolen and his group,” September said.

  “We headed south at first,” Heini explained, “and we are hoping to return to Dwytrefrhaedr, but Arianrhod and I are old and slow. We are holding these young folk back.”

  “Are you sure there is no one else from the Arsyllfa alive?” Arianrhod asked.

  “No. I have just come from there and I saw lots of bodies. I listened hard but you were the only people I could locate close to the observatory. I don’t think there is anyone else. Aurddolen said he knew that Eryl the astronomer and Anarawd had died.”

  “And Betrys was overwhelmed by Cwn annwn as she tried to get people out of the Arsyllfa.” September felt sad to hear of the death of the jolly tin bearer.

  “The question is, what do you want to do next?” she asked and explained what was happening in the dark mountains and what her intentions were.

  “I don’t think we will be much use when it comes time to trek onto the icecap,” Arianrhod said, “We will just slow everyone down.”

  “Arianrhod is right. I think it would be best if we returned to our homes and helped their defence against the Malevolence,” Heini agreed.

  “I can carry you if you wish.”

  “From what you have told us it seems you have already performed that service a number of times,” Heini said, “but you do not have to worry about me. If you can look after Arianrhod and these two youngsters I can transform and fly to the coast myself.”

  The young man and woman were still overawed by being in the presence of the radiant Cludydd o Maengolauseren and said that it was no more than a couple of days walk to their parents’ homes so only Arianrhod was left for September to carry. They agreed to stay where they were for the night and travel at first light. They talked for a while of their regrets at the loss of many friends at the Arsyllfa, of what lay ahead in the fight against the Malevolence and the prospects for a successful resolution at the Conjunction. September appreciated Heini’s and Arianrhod’s confidence in her new powers but they knew little of the threat that Malice posed. The two aged cludyddau were obviously exhausted from their days of walking and soon dozed off while the youngsters were too shy to talk. September alone remained wakeful and alert. The peace and calm of the setting was pleasant but September felt that she would soon be thrust into battles to protect the people she had come to love and respect.

  The sky was just taking on the colours of dawn as the four sleepers stirred. There was little to be done to break camp and soon farewells were being said. Heini transformed into a seagull that squawked as it took to the air and headed east. September changed into her eagle and Arianrhod clambered stiffly onto her back. The young people waved as they dwindled to specks below them while September climbed into the lightening sky.

  She beat her wings and headed northeast, soon swooping across hills and valleys. The southern river flashed past below them and then they were over forest. They remained high in the sky when they passed over small clearings containing settlements.

  Soon Arianrhod pointed down at a ribbon of water.

  “Afon Gogleddol, the northern river,” she shouted beside September’s feathered head, “follow it to the east.” September swooped along the course of the mighty river.

  After a short while September saw something ahead and at the same time an itch began in her right hip. Although the sky was clear and the sun shining brightly there appeared to be a dark smudge over part of the river.

  “There,” Arianrhod shouted, pointing a finger at the part of the river shrouded by the cloud, “My home is being attacked by the Malevolence.”

  As they approached, the burning in September’s side increased and she could see that the cloud was a sulphurous fog such as had been wrapped around the Arsyllfa on her arrival there. Within it were the shadowy figures of a swarm of Adarllwchgwin. Flashes of yellow light signified a barrage of fire from the red riders aimed towards the ground.

  September kept her height until she was over the cloud of attackers.

  “Hold on,” she commanded Arianrhod, then she stooped to the attack. As she streaked towards the ground she composed herself to unleash the power of the starstone. Then they were in the cloud and amongst t
he Adarllwchgwin but still descending at great speed.

  “Be gone!” September screeched from her beak. A sphere of violet radiated out from her. It touched one of the evil birds, which disappeared in an explosion of hot air. Then another and another puffed out of existence. It was a chain reaction that increased in ferocity as the sphere expanded until all the manifestations were consumed. September’s screaming dive generated a vortex like a tornado that blew away the noxious smog. The air cleared and below them, rapidly approaching, was the surface of the river. September spread her wings, scooping the air and pulling up. Her talons scythed through the water and then they were flying gently towards the southern bank, the sky clear of attackers.

  Smoke rose from various points along the riverside and there were boats in the water but September could see no sign of a settlement until Arianrhod tapped on her neck and pointed up at the tall trees that lined the bank. There September saw platforms and houses amongst the branches. She rose until she was amongst the sparse foliage at the top of the trees and settled onto a floor of wooden planks. Arianrhod slid off her back as faces appeared at the tops of ladders and people climbed up to greet them. September transformed and soon she and Arianrhod were surrounded by adults and children.

  With everyone chattering together September found it difficult to follow a conversation until Arianrhod lifted her hands to quieten everyone and turned to September.

  “My people and I want to thank you for driving away the Malevolence. It’s not the first time that Trefyncoed has been attacked and it will not be the last but on this occasion you have prevented much death and destruction.” September accepted her words modestly and decided that hanging around to hear the inhabitants’ gratitude for her efforts was an embarrassment she could avoid.

  “Thank you too for the journey,” Arianrhod continued with a smile, “it was breathtaking.”

  “I enjoyed seeing a part of the Land that I have not seen before,” September said, “but now I think I am needed elsewhere.” It wasn’t a made up excuse as there was a distant murmur of fear and desperation in her head.

  “Good bye. I’ll call here again,” September said, transforming again into the eagle and launching herself off the platform.

  September began her task of responding to the calls for help from the people of Gwlad. Across the seven regions of the Land she destroyed manifestations that appeared and fought off the bands of humans turned to evil. Not only was the power of the Maengolauseren used for her purpose but as in the tasks she faced among the planets she also used the powers of the metals. With the Moon she healed injuries and sickness like a silver bearer. The skills of Mars enabled her to restore iron bridges and machines. She reinvigorated the gold nuggets that energised machines and invoked the Sun to bring hope amongst the inhabitants. The joy of Jupiter helped to unite communities and reinforce their defence and Saturn provided shields to repulse the attackers. Through it all the love of Venus linked her to the appeals of people across the Land and the transformations of Mercury saw her appear as the eagle in the skies, the panther among the trees, the cobra in the plains and the desert and a blue-grey seal in the water of the eastern ocean.

  Sleep was not necessary and September never tired but she grew weary of the constant burning in her side and disillusioned with the repetitive task. While the people hailed her as a saviour every time she destroyed manifestations or ended conflicts, she was aware that she always arrived after the attacks had begun. The calls that came to her were always from people besieged; there were no early warnings. Despite the supersonic speed of her trajectory that took her missile-like from one site to another, it still took her minutes to arrive. That was time enough for a herd of Ceffyl Dwr to drown a village in a watery stampede, for a pack of Cwn Annwn to torch a settlement, a Cyhyraeth to blow its pestilence over a community, or a coven of Gwyllian to turn all in their path to dust.

  The people celebrated her arrival amongst them. They always invited her to stay and share what they had but September sensed that their joy was tempered by sadness at the death and damage caused by the Malevolence. The people wanted to reinforce their defences and rebuild, so were reluctant to waste time and resources on frolicking. The loss of the Arsyllfa, the observatory built to prepare for the next rise of the evil above the stars, was a constant reminder of the power of the Malevolence.

  The attacks of the manifestations went on; more people fell into the thrall of the evil and broke up their communities with riots and murder, but there was no sign of Malice. September wondered if her twin was directing the attacks, keeping her busy criss-crossing the continent, but she never appeared when September arrived to fight her minions. September thought she knew why. Malice was avoiding direct confrontation while her powers grew and the days to the Conjunction ticked off one by one. September was aware that the Malevolence was growing stronger. The number and ferocity of the attacks was steadily increasing. Now as autumn turned to winter there were often two attacks simultaneously. Being in two places at once was a gift that September did not have and so people were left to defend themselves on more and more occasions.

  September discussed her worries with Aurddolen in their frequent conversations. The Mordeyrn was sympathetic but the situation was as he expected and his principal concern was to restore his power by casting a new symbol of gold. The miners had found a new vein of gold-bearing ore in the rocks deep beneath the Mwyngloddiau Dwfn and were digging a new tunnel to extract it.

  Then one day, as she snuffed out the last of a pack of Cwn annwn, while around her the tents of the desert nomads burned, Aurddolen’s cry filled September’s head.

  “Cludydd! We need your assistance.”

  “Where are you? What’s happening?”

  “We are trapped by manifestations in the deep mine. Tylwyth teg fill the tunnels and Coblynau are tearing the roof down on our heads. We cannot defeat them alone.”

  September trembled with fear. She was at the extreme end of the continent from the mines of Mynydd Tywyll. It would take her many minutes to make the journey even at the speed of a space rocket. How could she reach the people deep underground? She could not see how she could help the Mordeyrn and the miners but there must be some way that the starstone could assist her, some power she had not yet discovered how to control. She needed a way to instantly transport from one point to another.

  She recalled her arrival in the Land, many weeks ago. The starstone had brought her here from her own world, apparently in a moment. Could she activate the same mechanism to carry her to the Mordeyrn’s rescue?

  September held up the stone in her hand. It was clear and she could see the cobalt blue of the sky through it. She manoeuvred it until the Sun swam into view. Its golden light fell on her face. Perhaps the planet that gave Aurddolen his power could connect them. She closed her eyes to avoid the blinding brilliance.

  “Take me to the cludydd o aur,” she muttered.

  Even through her closed eyelids she saw the shaft of sunlight increase in intensity. She felt her whole body heated by the rays and sensed the moment when her feet left the hot sand.

  11

  There was darkness beyond her eyelids. Cries and screams, clashes of iron and the rumbling of falling rock assaulted her ears. The heat was at least as intense as it had been in the southern desert. September opened her eyes. Compared to the bright desert it was dark but there was just enough light to see bodies crowded into a small cavern. Her back was against a rough-hewn rock wall, the floor strewn with rubble and beside her was the Mordeyrn holding a lamp containing a tiny fleck of starstone that illuminated his face. She saw an expression of wonder.

  “Cludydd! You have learnt the art of symudiad.”

  “Sim what?” September was confused.

  “Symudiad, migration, removing yourself from a place. I had not dared hope that you could respond to my appeals.”

  September tried to make sense of the melee around her. Bodies moved in a strange uncoordinated dance in the flickering light
of other starstone lamps.

  “What’s happening? I can’t make it out.”

  “Tylwyth teg are attacking from the tunnel we dug, and Coblynau have broken into the chamber by their own means and are tearing at the rock. Cynhaearn, Isfoel and the miners fight but are outnumbered.”

  One of the jerking bodies suddenly fell back and rolled at September’s feet, screaming in agony. There was a hissing, fizzing noise that September recalled from school chemistry experiments when acids were added to powders. She knelt down beside the miner and saw vapour rising from his face and clothes. A liquid was dissolving his skin, exposing bloody flesh and bone beneath.

  “It is the spit of the Tylwyth teg!” Aurddolen shouted over the noise of the battle, “It burns like fire and consumes flesh and anything else it touches.”

  September held the Maengolauseren over the man’s wounds and summoned compassion. The hissing ceased and his screams turned to moans.