Beneath

by Gill Arbuthnott

  “Will he be all right?” she asked.

  “We don’t know yet,” Martha replied gently. “He’s so cold. All we can do is get him warm and hope that he’s strong enough to survive.” She looked down at the still figure and grimaced. “I”m afraid he doesn’t look very strong.”

  “You’re wrong,” Jess said vehemently before she had time to think about it.

  Martha looked at her curiously. “Let’s hope so,” she said.

  “I’m going to change,” said Ian, on his way out of the room.

  Martha held out her hand for the towel and began to rub Finn’s hair dry. “I’ll sit with him just now. Go down and keep an eye on Ashe, would you? And help your grandmother with the cooking.”

  Not knowing what else to do, Jess went out, shutting the door behind her.

  “Is he dead?” asked Ashe as soon as she went into the kitchen.

  She fought down an overwhelming urge to slap him.

  “No.”

  “Has he woken up yet?”

  “No.”

  “Can I go and see him?”

  “There’s nothing to see. Go and ask Mother if you really want to. She’s staying with him.”

  “Until he dies?”

  Jess closed her eyes and counted very slowly to five.

  “Until he wakes up.”

  To her relief, Ashe ran out of the room.

  Jess managed to keep herself busy enough to be distracted for almost an hour, but that was as much as she could stand. Outside her room she took a deep breath and pinned on a smile before she opened the door.

  “I’ll sit with him just now. You go downstairs.”

  “All right.” Martha got up. “He hasn’t moved.”

  They both stared at the white face on the pillow.

  Jess sat down, waited until she heard her mother’s footsteps descending the stairs.

  “Finn?” she whispered. “Finn, it’s me, Jess. Wake up; please wake up.”

  There was no response.

  Cautiously she touched his hair, then his cheek. His flesh chilled her fingers. He looked like a corpse.

  Panicked by the thought that perhaps he had died without her noticing, she bent her head close to his mouth, her hair brushing his face as she listened for his breathing.

  Yes; yes. He was breathing.

  She sat down again, clasping her trembling fingers in her lap until they stopped shaking.

  “What were you doing here?” she said to him, although she knew he couldn’t hear her. “What’s happened to you?”

  She thought with a pang of her Yule wish.

  For a few minutes she sat silently, watching him, then she lifted a corner of the heaped covers to look at the wounds of the wolf attack, trying not to imagine what it must have felt like for Finn as they tore at his flesh. Her eyes strayed to his neck and she caught her breath.

  A thin scar, dark red, circled his throat. She bit her lip, fighting back tears. What had she done to him? Would it be her fault if he died? She tucked the covers firmly round him again.

  “Please don’t die, Finn. Please.”

  She had no idea how much time passed before she heard Ellen’s slow footsteps on the stairs. She’d long since run out of tears, but she wiped her eyes anyway, convinced they would have left some trace.

  “Any change?” Ellen asked as she came in.

  Jess shook her head.

  Ellen peered at Finn. “I don’t know. I think his colour’s better. Away you go and get something to eat.”

  Jess didn’t want to leave, but she couldn’t say that without having to think of some way to explain it, so she went without argument.

  Downstairs, she noticed dully that the snow had begun again. She ate soup and bread mechanically while Ian showed Ashe how to mend the hinges on a cupboard door. Martha was kneading bread dough at the other end of the big table, catching up with the chores she’d set aside to tend to the half-frozen boy. Jess felt as though she was in a bubble outside which normal life was taking place, sweeping her along, completely separate, in its wake.

  She finished eating.

  “I’ll go up and take over from Gran again.”

  “No. Just leave her. She’s probably having a wee nap just now. Anyway, you’ve the dishes to do while I finish this.”

  Jess closed her mouth and got on with her task, hoping to be allowed back up once she had finished, but Martha seemed to have an endless list of things for her to do, and then it was time to fight her way across to the barn with Ian to see to the cows again. When she got back, Martha had taken over from Ellen and she was thwarted once more.

  At a loss, she watched Ellen slicing cheese and vegetables for a pie and found herself rolling out pastry.

  “I’ll get the dish.” Ellen went to the cupboard as the door opened and Martha came into the kitchen.

  “He’s awake,” she said with a smile, and went to put on the kettle.

  “Is he going to be all right?” Jess asked.

  “Well, he’s escaped freezing to death, but he’s half starved, and injured. We’ll have to see.”

  “Has he said anything?” Jess’s heart thumped.

  “The poor boy can barely understand what’s happening. He hasn’t said how he got here. But he did manage to tell me that he’s called Finn.”

  There was a crash as the pie dish fell from Ellen’s fingers and smashed on the floor.

  They all stared at the fragments for a second.

  “That was clumsy of me,” said Ellen in a flat voice.

  “Don’t worry, Ellen. Jess, clear it up, would you?” Martha made tea and spooned in honey. “I’ll take this up to him. Best if he just has to cope with one person for now.”

  She went out, leaving an ominous silence behind her in the kitchen.

  Jess knelt and began picking up bits of shattered dish, bending so that her hair swung forwards to hide her face.

  “Is it him?” Ellen said sharply.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve brought a Kelpie into this house?”

  Jess looked up. “What should I have done? Left him to die in the snow?”

  “Left him for his own people to find.”

  “You know he would have died if we hadn’t found him when we did. It’s my fault he’s hurt. He saved my life.”

  “What are you talking about, girl? He wouldn’t have done anything to help you if you hadn’t forced him to it with the halter.”

  “No, no, not that. The wolves. They weren’t just watching me. They were going to attack me. A horse came out of nowhere and fought them.”

  Ellen sat down, staring at Jess.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  Jess nodded.

  “I knew it would just cause trouble if I told anyone what had really happened. I don’t know what there was to see when father went up there. He never said anything.” She picked up another couple of pieces of the dish. “The horse already looked ill – I didn’t think it could be Finn at first.” She got to her feet.

  “Are you going to tell them?”

  There was a long silence.

  “He looks harmless enough for the moment… I don’t know.”

  “Please, Gran. He couldn’t do us any harm even if he wanted to, and I’m sure he doesn’t mean to.”

  “I won’t tell anyone today. I want to talk to him before I make my mind up to anything beyond that.”

  “Oh, thank you. Thank you.” Jess put down the broken dish and hugged Ellen with relief.

  “Come on. We’d better get this pie finished, or your mother will wonder what we’ve been doing.”

  Jess wiped her sweaty hands on her apron, tried to look calm, and pushed open the door to her room. Martha looked up and put a finger to her lips, and for a fleeting second, Jess thought her mother must be able to hear her heart hammering, before she realised that she was to be quiet because Finn was asleep.

  Jess couldn’t help staring at him. He was a more normal colour, but he still looked terrible, his face hollowed
by hunger.

  “I’ll sit with him now,” she said.

  “All right. Let me know if he wakes up again.”

  When she was sure that Martha was safely downstairs, Jess leaned close to the bed.

  “Finn,” she whispered. “It’s me, Jess. Wake up, Finn. I need to talk to you.”

  Nothing. Gently, she touched his cheek. At last, it was warm. He moved his head on the pillow a little at her touch, and she pulled her fingers away as though she’d been burned.

  He opened his eyes.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  At first, he didn’t look at her. His gaze was on the ceiling, and she could see him struggling to remember where he was, and why.

  “Finn,” she said quietly.

  He turned his head towards the sound, and she saw his eyes widen.

  “Jess?”

  He knew her. That was a start. She smiled at him. Before she could say anything, he spoke again, his words slurred and uncertain.

  “I’m sorry. I should have stayed away. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

  “You haven’t. No one knows who you are.” There was no reason to trouble him with the truth just now. “What happened to you? I don’t mean the cold, or the wolves. Something else has happened to you.”

  He closed his eyes and turned his face away from her.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Come on, Jess, she thought. This isn’t what he needs just now.

  “Are you warm enough?”

  A smile. “Yes. I’d forgotten what it was like to be warm.”

  She bit back the questions she longed to ask, and concentrated instead on practical ones.

  “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

  “Starving.”

  She looked at his hollowed face.

  “You actually mean that. I’ll go and get you something.”

  “No. Don’t go yet. Sit for a bit longer first.”

  Jess nodded and sat back, wondering what it was safe to say, but after a couple of minutes he fell asleep anyway. She waited impatiently for him to wake again. How long would it take?

  She heard footsteps on the stairs and Martha’s head came round the door.

  “Anything?”

  “He did wake up, but only for a couple of minutes.”

  She came fully into the room and Jess saw that she was carrying a basin of water.

  “Your father’s coming up to help me clean his wounds.”

  “I can help.”

  “No, thank you.” Ian stumped in with the medicine chest under one arm.

  “Go and heat some soup,” Martha said. “The poor soul needs some food.”

  Jess had no choice but to let herself be banished again.

  Finn ran. He drifted between horse and human form. He didn’t know if he was being hunted, or searching for something that kept sliding out of sight.

  Wolves howled around him, but he couldn’t see them, although he could feel them tearing at his flesh.

  “Get out! See what you’ve done.”

  “Finn!”

  Voices crowded into his head, shouting at him.

  “Come back!”

  “Get out!”

  The wolves slashed at him again. He couldn’t get free.

  “No!”

  He realised he’d spoken aloud and opened his eyes. Jess’s mother was there again, the father with her this time.

  “Jess?”

  “She’s downstairs,” said her mother. “Lie still now. It looks as though a dog attacked you. We need to clean the bites.”

  “Wolves.”

  “What?”

  “Not dogs. Wolves.”

  Jess’s mother looked at him curiously, and he wondered if it had been a mistake to tell her.

  “Anyway, we need to clean them up, or they’ll make you ill. More ill.” She started to wash the bites. “Your family must be worried about you. Where are you from? We’ll get word to them as soon as we can.”

  “I don’t have any family.” He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to think any more. It was too difficult.

  He slept and woke and slept again. Sometimes the mother was there, sometimes Jess.

  He ate some soup, slept again.

  “Wake up, lad. I want to talk to you.”

  Something poked him in the chest. He ignored it.

  “Come on. You’ve slept for long enough.” Poke. “Wake up and talk to me.”

  It seemed he didn’t have a choice. He fought his eyes open and recoiled slightly. There was a face very close to him, bright-eyed and wrinkled with age. It retreated a bit as its owner sat down again.

  “That’s better. Are you thirsty? Here.” She gave him a drink of water. “I’m Jess’s grandmother. I know who you are. Why are you here?”

  Surely she knew how they’d found him?

  “They brought me here. I was in the orchard.”

  “Yes, I know that.” Impatient. “What were you doing out there in that weather? Why weren’t you with your own people?”

  I know who you are. Why aren’t you with your own people? The words sank in slowly.

  “Ah, now you understand me. I can see from your face. Why aren’t you in your own world?”

  Finn shut his eyes, hoping that he’d fall asleep and she’d be gone when he woke again.

  Poke.

  It was no good.

  “I can’t go back.”

  “Because the pool was poisoned? You’re trapped here?”

  He nodded. Let her think that. It was easier.

  “And what do you mean to do to us? To Jess?”

  She had his attention properly now. He opened his eyes.

  “Nothing. Nothing, I swear. I don’t mean you any harm. I didn’t mean to come here.” His voice was agitated now. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

  The old woman looked keenly at him. After a moment she spoke again.

  “I believe you.” She put a hand on his brow. “You’ve got a fever. I’ll go and make you something for it.” She got up. “Do I have your word that you’ll leave here as soon as you’re well enough, and do us no harm?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course,” he said, though in his heart, Finn knew how desperately difficult it would be to leave Jess.

  “Very well. No one knows about you but Jess and I. We’ll keep it like that.”

  “Well?” said Jess, looking up as Ellen came into the sitting room, where she sat darning socks very badly.

  Ellen sat down.

  “He swears he means us no harm and he’ll leave as soon as he’s able. I’m inclined to believe him, but in any case he’s too sick to be any sort of threat just now.”

  “How sick is he?”

  “Oh, I dare say he’ll be all right. He’s young, and healthy despite what’s happened to him recently.”

  “So you won’t tell the others?”

  “No. If he saved your life, I owe him that – so long as he keeps his part of the bargain. Now, I said I’d take him up some willow tea. He’s feverish – not that that’s surprising, rolling about in the snow for days with untended wolf bites. Will you take it? I can’t be bothered to climb all those stairs again just now. Here – give me that darning. You’re making a right mess of it.”

  Jess relinquished the sock with a grateful smile, and five minutes later she was stepping into her room with a cup of her grandmother’s tea.

  Finn had a heap of pillows under his head so that he could see out of the window to the snowy landscape beyond. He lay looking out now, and his expression as he did so made Jess stop, feeling that she was intruding on something private and painful.

  “Tea,” she said abruptly. He looked at her, half smiled and pulled himself up a bit so he could drink.

  “I met your grandmother,” he said dryly.

  “She’s decided you’re not here to murder us all,” Jess replied.

  He took a drink and grimaced.

  “That’s horrible. What is it?”

  “Willow tea. Gran says you’ve got a fever.”


  He made a face and took another swallow.

  “How deep is the snow now?” he asked.

  “Hip deep on me. There hasn’t been any fresh stuff for over a day, but it’s not moving either.”

  He started to say something, then changed his mind.

  “Will there be snow in your world just now?” Jess filled the silence.

  He shook his head.

  “Things freeze – the whole river freezes sometimes – but it never snows. I remember seeing snow for the first time. I couldn’t think what it could be. I watched you and your brother playing in it.” He smiled, remembering. “You’ve no idea how much I wanted to come and join in. You both looked so happy.”

  He’d heard the screams and run towards the farmyard through the cold white that wasn’t fog or rain, afraid that Jess was hurt or frightened, not stopping to think.

  Then he’d seen the two of them throwing handfuls of the stuff at each other, flushed and elated, and realised as he ducked out of sight that the screams were screams of delight.

  “I wish you had joined in,” Jess said. “When was that?”

  “Years ago,” he said. “You must have been about nine or ten. I thought snow was beautiful back then, but I’ve seen enough of it now.”

  He took another swallow of tea and held the cup out to Jess. “Please – I can’t drink any more of it. But don’t tell your grandmother.”

  “I won’t.”

  They lapsed into silence, and Finn went back to looking out of the window. Jess watched his expression change back to the melancholy one she’d seen when she came in.

  “You’ll be able to go home soon. Once you’re well, and some of the snow’s gone. Your family must be worried about you.”

  “I can’t go back,” he said flatly.

  He kept his face turned away from her and she waited silently for him to speak again, afraid that if she pressed him, he would clam up altogether.

  “I warned you,” his mother had said. “I warned you that you would bring disaster down on all of us. Look at what you have done to your sister. All for a human girl. Go. Leave our world, since you think so little of it. Go through that poisoned water to the Upper World and stay there. Leave the Nykur world and never return. You are no longer Nykur.”