by Lisa Morton
However, should I not return at all, please do not attempt to rescue me. It may be that human beings simply can’t survive in the Netherworld; should that prove the case, this world will need you to lead the forces that will stand against Asmodeus and his armies come midnight of October 31st.
Affectionately,
Diana
Yi-kin looked up from the note to Howe, and saw that the man was on the verge of tears. “She took the fastest horse,” Howe added.
Without hesitation, Yi-kin turned away from the door and began to get dressed. “I go after her,” he said.
Then he looked back to Howe and asked, “Where is Cornwall?”
Chapter XXVI
September 11, 1880
Cornwall, England
It was late in the afternoon when Diana arrived at the gateway; both she and her steed were exhausted by three days of travel with little sleep.
Fortunately it had been easy to find: This one was located in the ruins of a very old abbey, near a main road. It was a bitter day, with the promise of rain heavy in the air, and the grey sky seemed well suited to the look of the place. The Book of Gateways, Conjurations and Banishments said the abbey, which dated back to the tenth century, was said to be haunted, and Diana could see why: It consisted of little more than a few stone archways and broken walls, their surfaces slick with dew and noxious-looking mosses. The land around the abbey was marshy and treeless, and the wind was blowing through the remains of one wall, causing an eerie whistle.
Diana’s horse wasn’t keen to approach the place, throwing its head about, rolling its eyes, and so Diana tied it to an old post near the road. She removed her satchel from the saddle, sat it on the ground and opened it, freeing Mina. The feline poked her little head out, sniffed the air, and then stepped out of the bag gingerly. Even she was intimidated by the desolation of the place.
Stepping carefully, Mina picked her way past banks of fungi and toppled walls, through a crumbling doorway and over a decayed casement. Finally she stopped, looking up and sniffing the air. And then she hissed.
Diana followed after her, glad for the heavy riding boots she’d chosen (along with tailored woolen slacks and jacket). She carried her familiar satchel, and set it down just behind the cat.
As usual, there was no visual hint of the gateway, but there was an iciness to the air and a particularly pungent stench of something rotten that she was sure didn’t belong to this world.
Diana stopped, considering what she was about to do…and for just a few seconds her resolve left her. In all the time she’d been dealing with gateways, all the monstrosities she’d encountered around them, the twelve she’d sealed—she’d never so much as thrust a toe into one herself. She had only folklore to tell her that she wouldn’t simply be obliterated when she stepped through; folklore, and the notion that William was alive over there, somewhere.
This was truly insane.
But this must be done. She couldn’t wait until Hallowe’en to find out if this was possible; she needed to know now if special arrangements would need to be made, if she’d require equipment that might take her the weeks remaining to gather.
She needed to know if it was possible to return.
She reached into the satchel, and withdrew first a chain of garlic bulbs, which went around her neck. A small scabbard attached to her belt accepted the knife; on the other hip went a holstered pistol. She tucked a crucifix into one pocket, as well as a handful of herbs—rosemary, red rowan berries, and sprigs of willow. She stuck a needle into each sleeve, and lit a lantern. Lastly, she removed two stopwatches; one would go with her, the other would stay on this side.
Her heart was hammering. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself, and finally thought she was ready.
“All right, Mina,” she said more to herself than to the snarling, arched cat, “I’ll see you in a moment.”
Then she started both stopwatches, placed one on the ground next to Mina, picked up her lantern—and stepped through.
Her first sensation came through her feet—she’d left the spongy marsh ground behind, and was now standing on solid stone. She was glad for that, at least—
—and then the visuals assaulted her; for a moment she feared she’d gone mad.
Before her was an impossible landscape: Blizzard-strength winds whipped her hair and clothing madly, and yet a thick, yellow fog roiled around slowly, unmoved by the fierce gales. The fog seemed to glow slightly from within, and billowed to a height of about ten feet; overhead, the sky was a featureless black, without stars or moon. The ground was punctuated by large, bubbling obsidian pools. There was no life, either flora or fauna, to be seen, and yet Diana thought she could hear screams upon the foul wind.
Something touched her from behind.
Diana spun, raising the pistol she already held in one hand—
—and she nearly shot Yi-kin. He was holding Mina in his arms, and they both peered around, squinting against the blasts.
“Yi-kin,” she shouted over the shrieking air, “how did you get here so quickly?!”
“It take me three days to reach Cornwall, and one more day to find you,” he called back.
“But that’s impossible…I’ve only just stepped through!” she told him.
He raised his eyebrows, unable to articulate an answer.
Then Diana saw what was behind Yi-kin, and she froze in astonishment:
The gateway—on this side, at least, here in the Netherworld—was surrounded by a great carved stone arch. Although Diana couldn’t read the runic writing that covered the stone in bas-relief, its meaning was nonetheless clear: It very plainly told the inhabitants of the Netherworld that this was a gateway.
They’re marked on this side, was all Diana could think for a few seconds.
And then she saw Yi-kin stiffen at something he spied over her shoulder, and she spun back around, her own adrenaline coursing:
There was something in the fog.
Or perhaps the fog was the something: The sulphurous vapors were forming the suggestion of a great face, with at least six eyes and a huge, circular maw lined with fangs. It seemed to roll in on itself, and then form again. Its form wavered, and then it was there again—but closer.
Diana could only faintly hear Mina’s high-pitched howls of terror behind her, and she looked down at the stopwatch:
Only thirty seconds had passed.
She was determined to last the full minute; after all, if she couldn’t survive her first sixty seconds in the Netherworld, how could she hope to find William and stop an entire demonic army?
She planted her feet against the gale and turned to face whatever was there. The fog billowed around her, and the face shifted throughout, taking shape on her left, then appearing on her right. She thought she saw other things in the fog now, too—a limb of some kind, reaching out.
Still holding the stopwatch in her left hand, she holstered the gun and reached into her pocket, removing a handful of the herbs and flinging them into the mists.
The leaves and twigs disappeared from view, but there was no other effect.
She withdrew the iron-bladed knife now, and held it before her. And she thought she saw the face quiver once in dismay.
Good.
Forty-five seconds.
Suddenly the ground vibrated beneath their feet. It was followed by another tremor, and another, as if something huge was pounding the earth near them.
Or approaching on gigantic feet.
Sixty seconds.
Diana spun to face Yi-kin. “Now!” she called.
They all started to step beneath the stone arch—
—when something wrapped itself around Diana’s ankle.
She twisted around, and saw that the fog had extended out one of its limbs—tentacles? Pseudopods?—and wound itself around her leg. Although it still had the appearance of insubstantial vapor, its grip on her was all too real.
She tugged in vain, but the pull of the limb was stronger, and suddenly her feet went out from
under her. She went down on the stone, and was dragged not just into the fog, but towards one of the churning, ebony pools. She grabbed desperately for any handhold, any purchase, but her fingernails shredded against hard rock. She had only seconds unless she did something—
—and then Yi-kin’s hands were around her wrists, holding her. Mina launched herself over Diana’s body and tore into the smoke-like limb that was wrapped around Diana’s leg.
The appendage released Diana’s ankle and surrounded Mina. It wrapped itself around the struggling cat, and began drawing her towards the swamp.
Diana acted instinctively, withdrawing the iron-bladed knife and slicing at the vaporous tentacle clutching Mina.
It vanished. It didn’t release Mina, or draw back—it simply wasn’t there.
Diana didn’t wait to see if it would return. She re-sheathed the knife and let Yi-kin help her back up to her feet, then she gathered Mina and together they all sprang at the gateway.
They came out on the other side, and Diana was grateful for the soft swampy ground that cushioned her landing.
Yi-kin was already on his feet, in a defensive pose, and Mina backed away from the gateway, snarling.
Diana’s first thought was of the thing on the other side—the thing that might be coming through any second….
She didn’t even take the time to roll up her sleeve; she opened her left palm with the knife, and sealed the gateway. Then Mina quieted, but only somewhat, and Diana let herself fall back against a tumble of stones, exhausted.
Yi-kin leaned nearer to her and whispered, “We are not alone.”
Diana pulled herself up, just now realizing it was full night, not the day she’d left only a moment earlier. She clawed at the stopwatch, forgotten in a jacket pocket, and witnessed that they’d barely passed two minutes.
Night already?
Then she saw the small fire that Yi-kin had noticed, burning nearby.
They all made their way cautiously towards the fire, and saw a complete small camp, with their horses tethered at one side.
A small camp? That wasn’t here when I stepped through.
There was a man sleeping near the fire. As they approached, he heard them and jerked awake with a cry, then scrambled to his feet, plucking nervously at his clothing.
“Ahhh, beggin’ yer pardon, ma’am,” he exclaimed in a thick, working-class accent, “but you snuck up on me, you did….”
“Who are you?” Diana asked.
The man—who Diana guessed was perhaps thirty, and had the face and rough hands of a laborer—offered her a polite bow. “Name’s Jenkins. Your man Howe hired me to keep watch—you’d be Lady Furnaval, now, wouldn’t you, mum?”
“I would indeed,” Diana replied, amazed, then added, “how long have you been here?”
“Oh, it’s been a right long time now, mum. Never found anyone but them horses—I was beginnin’ to think somebody’d pulled a joke on poor ol’ Jenkins—”
“How long?” Diana demanded, stepping up to him.
Jenkins actually flinched and backed away. “Near on six weeks now, mum. Where did you come from anyhow?”
“Six weeks?” She turned away, ignoring the man’s question, trying to calculate. Six weeks had passed since Howe had sent this man out—and how long had passed before then? She turned back to him, trying to avoid shouting. “My god—what’s the date today?!”
Jenkins hesitated, then answered, “October 29th, mum.”
October twenty-ninth?! That gave them only six days to return to Derby, prepare, and get to Ireland.
“Yi-kin, we have to go,” she said, already gathering up her things and running for her horse. “Mr. Jenkins, you earned yourself the reward of a hundred pounds.”
Jenkins watched them go and called out, “So do I get paid now?”
Chapter XXVII
October 29-October 31
Derby England—Cruachan, Ireland
They left Cornwall immediately, and rode for three days, reaching the Derby estate sometime in the wee morning hours of the 29th. Howe was, of course, flabbergasted and delighted to see his mistress, but she told him there was no time to waste and immediately began preparations for the trip to Ireland.
Diana spent the rest of the time until dawn preparing everything Howe would need to run the estate for some years, since they now understood that time was indeed very much different in the Netherworld. He had initially begged to accompany them, of course, but had relented when Diana told him it was crucial that he remain behind, especially should they fail.
They slept on the train ride to Liverpool, and then again on the ship over to Dublin. There they bought food and two horses, and set out for County Roscommon before dawn on October 31st.
They rode west across the cool, green Irish countryside for six brutal hours, pausing only long enough to allow their exhausted mounts water. They arrived in County Roscommon shortly after noon, and by two p.m. they had rented two rooms in a small inn in the village of Tulsk, for a few hours of rest.
At six p.m. they rose, shared a small dinner with the innkeeper and his family (it was a traditional Samhain feast of colcannon, a dish made of potatoes, onions and cabbage, and a fruit cake called barm brack—the latter had a ring baked within, and the innkeeper’s teenage daughter was delighted to find the trinket in her slice of cake, since it portended marriage).
Diana tried not to think of this as a last meal.
After turning down the innkeeper’s invitation to stay and enjoy the annual Hallowe’en party, Diana and Yi-kin remounted the horses and forced the poor beasts the last few miles along the Rathcroghan-Lissalway Road. Although evening had already fallen, the night was lit by numerous bonfires, about which many of the locals danced with drunken abandon; but Diana also noticed farmhouses with branches of ash or rowan mounted over doorways and windows, and was reminded of what William had described seeing on Walpurgisnacht in the Transylvanian village. Apparently not all of the residents hereabouts thought of this as a night for parties and capering.
They rode past limestone outcroppings and great mounds of earth, and Diana recalled the research she’d done on the area while back at Derby: Connaught had supposedly been the kingdom of the ancient Celts, and had a rich tradition in local mythology. The mounds, she knew, all marked ancient burial places, and many of the rocky outcroppings were actually the stones from ruined structures. The cave they sought, called Oweynagat (which translated to the Cave of Cats) was also known as the “Cave of Cruachan”; it was the most famed entrance to the fairy world, and the setting for a number of unnerving Celtic legends. In the best known, a hero named Nera saw Cruachan in flames one Samhain Eve, and followed an army of fairies into Oweynagat. Nera crossed over into the fairy world and took a fairy wife, who told him the attack was nothing but illusion…but a real attack would take place next Samhain. Nera returned to his king, Ailell, and the legendary Queen Maeve, and warned them about the fairies’ plan. The following Samhain the incursion was thwarted, but Nera ended up returning to the fairy world forever.
Diana could only hope that meant the Netherworld was more tolerable here than what she’d encountered in Cornwall.
It took them some time to locate the entrance in the dark, and it was nearly nine p.m. by the time they picked it out by the light of their lanterns. It was set into the side of a hill and was low and narrow, distinguished only by a large mound above its mouth, and an ancient Celtic Ogham stone, or marker inscribed with Celtic writing. They had no place to tie the horses, so they dismounted and trusted to their steeds to stay close. The horses wandered off a few feet, contentedly nuzzling at the low growth. Diana thought it unlikely that the scene would remain this peaceful much longer, not outside Ireland’s Hell-gate on Samhain Eve.
Yi-kin was already kneeling and peering into the cavern, which they would need to crawl into one at a time. “It is bigger inside, I think,” he observed.
Diana nodded, but was preoccupied with their final preparations. She had changed into
her functional men’s suit before they’d left the inn, with knee-high riding boots over her trousers; she added now the holstered knife and gun, (which she hadn’t thought it prudent to openly display.) She kept the iron knife, but handed Yi-kin a silver dagger, which might prove useful against certain denizens of the netherworld that were unaffected by iron. She also released Mina, and was alarmed when the little feline ran at top speed for the cave opening and disappeared within.
“Mina!” Yi-kin called after her, as he started wedging himself through the low, narrow cave mouth.
“No, Yi-kin…wait,” Diana cautioned. He turned to face her, and saw that she was hurriedly going through the satchel, stuffing her pockets with leaves and twigs, with both a crucifix and a Taoist talisman she’d saved from their experience with the hopping vampires. She checked something in her copy of The Book of Gateways, Conjurations and Banishments, which she placed back into the satchel, then she passed Yi-kin a pack which held food, water, candles and lanterns..
Diana took a last look into the ebony sky, studded with stars that seemed suddenly melancholy, and she didn’t want to leave them. The smell of the countryside, the chill air, the blissful silence…she savored it all for a few seconds. Then Yi-kin called softly to her from where he knelt by the cave mouth. “We go?”
“We go.”
Yi-kin wriggled through the cave opening first, and she followed. They crawled beneath the stone overhanging the entrance, and found themselves in an underground chamber about four feet in height. Stone lintels shored up the walls on either side, and Diana recognized another of the Ogham stones overhead. Although she couldn’t decipher the runes inscribed there, she had read that it described the resting-place of a son of Ailell and Maeve.
“This place is made by man,” said Yi-kin.
“Yes, this first part of the cave system was built by the ancient Celts. We should find the natural cave just at the end of this passage.”
They hunkered forward, crabwalking, and Diana was distressed to see no trace of Mina. After perhaps eight feet the passage ended at an intersection: To the right was little more than a cul-de-sac, while to the left the passage slanted slightly downwards into darkness. They headed in that direction, and after perhaps another twenty feet they found they could now stand upright.