by Jenny McKane
Avalon was imprisoned somewhere.
Mother Asta stopped pacing, staring at the walls of the tent. No. She mustn’t get distracted by that thought and rush out impetuously, searching for her. She had no way of knowing where she was, and besides, the sorceress had to be dealt with first—before she did any more damage.
The spell to maintain Avalon’s form…that was the key. The woman would have to perform her ritual soon. Mother Asta would have to shadow her and watch her doing it. Then, she would know what power source she used and could hopefully use it against her.
She would have to be very, very careful. The sorceress was clever and would be aware immediately if she was being watched. She had to enlist someone else to watch as well.
Mother Asta walked out of the tent, searching for Escolen.
***
Skyresh paced the room, staring out the windows at the white world outside. The snow had been falling steadily all day. Without it being cleared, it would soon begin to push against the house, locking them in. Skyresh shrugged. What did it matter? They couldn’t leave anyway.
His eyes filled with tears, as he gazed at the two stationery figures lying on the ground outside, buried underneath the snow. Brunn and Niko. They had been good men. He had known Brunn a long time and trusted him. He had been an excellent warrior. He hadn’t known the boy, Niko, very well, but he knew his mother, Tuva. Tuva had raised the boy alone and was a great warrior. She had trained Niko since he had been very young to fight in the rebellion.
And now he was dead. His grave was a pile of snow in the wilderness. Another wave of sadness washed over Skyresh at the thought. They both deserved more. They deserved a proper burial and a farewell ceremony with the Mother presiding. Tuva had the right to properly say farewell to her only son, and Brunn’s family deserved it, as well.
But he couldn’t do anything. He had to watch, helplessly, as the snow buried them deeper. Suddenly, frustration overcame him, and he walked to the window and smashed his fist against the pane of glass, hard.
If this was a normal house, the act would have shattered the window, and he would have a bloodied hand, but as it was, his fist bounced back, as if he had merely flicked a finger against it.
“Skyresh. Are you alright?”
He turned, swiftly, to see Avalon standing there. Her brow was knotted with concern.
He shrugged. “I am finding it hard, Avalon. Watching the men out there, unable to take them back to their families.”
Avalon swallowed, hard. “I know, but we will do it, Skyresh. We will get out of here, and we will bring them home. They will be farewelled properly.”
He sighed. He knew that he had to remain positive, but it was getting harder. Another day had gone by, and still there was no sign that the animals had made it back to the camp and that the others were coming.
They had broken apart just about every piece of furniture in the house to keep the fire going. The wood burned quickly; it wasn’t like the slow burning logs that he would have cut down for it, and they were getting perilously low on food, as well. They had started to ration it.
He stared at Avalon. He knew that her spirits were getting low, too, even though she tried hard to put a brave face on. Even in these circumstances, his breath caught in his throat as he gazed at her. She looked even more beautiful, if that was possible. He wanted to rush to her and take her in his arms. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, and only her…but it was neither the time or the place.
They were fighting for their lives, although it was a different kind of battle. And then, there was him. Everard Varr. He was now a part of their lives again, a shadow following them.
A part of him regretted that he hadn’t just killed him on that first day when they had come into the house. Once again, Avalon’s pleas had torn at his heart, and he just couldn’t do it, and now the man claimed that he was on their side, well and truly.
He didn’t believe it, of course. It would take more than words to convince him that Everard Varr was finally trustworthy, but Avalon believed it, and he couldn’t do anything that would hurt her.
The man still loves her, thought Skyresh. He could tell by every stolen glance Everard gave her and the way that the man’s dark eyes lit up when she entered the room. He would try to claim her again.
It seemed that the timing was never right for them. Either it was Minna, or it was Everard. Claiming them. Tearing them away from where they should be. Which was in each other’s arms.
Skyresh shook his head. He knew that wasn’t the entire truth. They had been their own worst enemies in making their way towards each other.
And now it seemed that the time would never come.
This house was going to be their grave—unless something happened soon.
***
Mother Asta walked toward the fjord, winding her veil tightly around her face to ward off the snowflakes brushing against her. The empty water basket that she carried on her back scratched against her skin, irritating her.
They shouldn’t be here anymore. The Long Cold had arrived, and the temporary village of tents was not enough shelter against the onslaught of a heavy winter. Usually, they would have found more permanent accommodations for the winter.
Every joint in her body ached. She longed for a house with a roaring fire. She grinned to herself despite the cold. She had gotten old. Once upon a time, she would have stayed out camping forever, but those days were long gone.
Mother Asta squatted down at the water’s edge, using a knife to break through the ice. Hauling water up to the camp was hard going, and she didn’t have to do it. There were younger, willing people who would have done the chore for her, but she had felt the need to get away from the camp for a little while.
She had spoken to Escolen, telling him everything that she believed about the woman claiming to be their queen. At first, he had not believed her.
“The woman isn’t Avalon?” he had said, wide eyed. “But she is identical, Mother.”
“Not quite,” she had answered. “Even you said that she was different, somehow, when you first brought her back to camp, and I felt it, too.” She had taken a deep breath. “Then, an old woman from the village over the mountain came here with her granddaughter. The little girl is one of Avalon’s favorites, and she promised her that she would train the girl as a warrior, and yet when the queen travelled into their village, she didn’t remember her at all— nor her promise to her.”
“That is hardly proof, Mother,” Escolen had answered, frowning. “Children are not reliable informants.”
“On the contrary,” said the Mother. “They have a clear, true way of looking at the world, and their instincts are very sharp. She also noticed that this woman was missing a mole on her right hand. A mark that clearly identifies Avalon. I should have noticed it myself. Look at this woman’s right hand when you are next with her.”
Escolen had scratched his head. “She has been acting strangely. Everyone has noticed, and people aren’t happy with her. That terrible handling of the situation at the village. And she seems not to be grieving Skyresh and the others at all. Tuva, the mother of Niko, who went with them, is so angry, Mother.”
“So she should be,” Mother Asta had replied. “It is not the way our queen should handle the situation. This woman is doing it deliberately to discredit Avalon, although showing empathy would probably be beyond her anyway. She is a sorceress with a heart of ice.”
“What can we do?” Escolen had looked fearful. “If a powerful sorceress is in our midst, how do we get rid of her? And where is the real Avalon and the others?”
“We must shadow her, Escolen.” The Mother had stared at him, hard. “I cannot do it by myself. She would be immediately suspicious. If we do it in shifts, then it will be less obvious. If you see her going off by herself, or claiming she needs to be alone in her tent, alert me. She has to maintain her form, and that requires a ritual.”
“A spell?” Escolen paled. “You think she would practice her
dark magic here?”
“She has to,” replied the Mother. “The spell to change her to appear as Avalon requires maintenance, but it is more than that, Escolen. If we observe her doing it, we discover her power source, which is imperative if I am to try to reverse what has happened.”
Escolen had nodded, and they had worked out a schedule, of sorts, to observe her at all times. He was watching the woman now, while she was out getting water.
Mother Asta straightened, hauling the water bucket onto her back. Suddenly, she saw a movement in her peripheral vision. It had moved so quickly, she wasn’t sure if she had even seen it. Was it an animal?
She squinted, staring over the fjord. The animal was large and staring at her, unblinking with its large yellow eyes.
It was Hansa! Avalon’s wolf!
Mother Asta gasped, looking around wildly. No, the woman was nowhere near them.
Carefully, she trudged through the snow to where the animal was hiding behind some rocks. As she crept towards the wolf, she saw Sidsel, Avalon’s horse.
She embraced the wolf, hugging it tightly. Relief flooded through her so strongly, she could barely speak.
The wolf was whining, licking her face. She seemed to be as relieved as the Mother.
Mother Asta pulled back, staring into the wolf’s eyes.
I know, Hansa, she said, in her mind. I know that the woman at the camp is not Avalon. Tell me, what has happened?
Hansa settled down, staring back at the Mother, although her tail still thumped wildly.
She has been imprisoned, Mother, the wolf replied. At the Jarle safe house.
Mother Asta gasped. She is alive! Tell me, what of the others?
Hansa growled, deep in her throat. Skyresh is with her, she answered. But Brunn and the other man are dead.
Mother Asta bowed her head, sadness overwhelming her. There would be no good news to give to Tuva, but at least Skyresh was still alive.
She is with the other man, as well, Hansa continued. The one that she let go when we first came to the realm from the Outlying Zone.
The Mother’s eyes widened. The one whose memory she wiped? The guardian?
Yes, Hansa said. He called out to her, crying. She could not resist and entered the house. Skyresh followed her, and then they were all imprisoned there. They cannot leave, Mother. The doors will not open nor will the windows break.
Mother Asta sighed deeply. It was worse than she thought. A normal prison, with chains and gates, could be broken out of, but a magical prison was so much harder. Avalon must have tried to invoke the Goddess to aid them, but it hadn’t worked. The spell was too great.
We would have stayed, Hansa continued, panting. We would have stayed to defend the house and protect her, but she worked out a way to talk to me and got me to come here. She wants you to come, Mother, and help her get out.
Mother Asta sighed again. You say she worked out a way to talk to you? So the spell wouldn’t let her at the start?
No, answered Hansa. I tried to talk to her, but all was darkness.
Did she tell you how she overcame it? Mother Asta held her breath, waiting for the answer.
But the wolf merely whined. She didn’t say, Mother. She was trying to get the message to me, quickly. I could sense her fading at the very end. It went to darkness again.
Mother Asta stood up slowly, staring back at the camp. Then, she turned to the animals.
You must stay hidden, she said. Both of you. Sidsel, the sorceress has bewitched another horse to look just like you. If she sees you, she will know straight away, and I am sure she would recognize you, as well, Hansa.
Sidsel started prancing, tossing her mane. We will stay hidden, Mother, do not worry.
It was careless of her, leaving you both alive, the Mother said. She obviously thinks her spell is foolproof and that Avalon would never be able to communicate with you both again, but—in that—she was wrong. And if that part of the spell can be broken, so can the rest.
What are you going to do, Mother? Hansa was staring at her.
Mother Asta wound the veil around her head, again. We are watching her. I need to see her perform her ritual, so I can find out what her power source is. Then, I may be able to defeat her. Or at least subdue her.
But what of Avalon? The wolf was whining, her yellow eyes large.
Mother Asta sighed. I must do this before I can travel to where they are and try to break the spell. The sorceress would know, straight away, if I left. And I can’t leave her here anyway. She is creating discord, and Avalon’s name will soon be cursed if she is left to her evil ways.
They are weakening, Mother, said Hansa. Please, try to be quick.
Mother Asta nodded grimly. Then, she turned and walked swiftly back to the camp.
***
The time had finally arrived.
They had been watching the woman closely for over a day and had noticed nothing untoward. Mother Asta had just been about to retire for the night when Escolen had walked into her tent.
“Mother,” he had whispered. “She is doing something. She has walked to the fjord by herself.”
Mother Asta had put her cloak on, and they had hurried out. It was hard, in the dark. They could not risk carrying a lantern, in case it alerted the sorceress that they were following her. As it was, they were lucky that the woman carried a lantern. Mother Asta could see it bobbing in the distance on the banks of the fjord.
They crouched down behind some rocks, watching her.
“What is she doing?” whispered Escolen, frowning.
“She is going into the water,” said Mother Asta, slowly. “Look, she is shedding her clothes.”
The sorceress slowly undressed until she was naked beneath the moonlight. Then, she took a sharp knife and stabbed the ice in the water viciously. It cleared enough that there was a pathway for her to wade into the water.
She reached for a small hessian bag on the banks of the fjord, opening it, and throwing the contents into the water. Then, she carefully took a bottle and shook three drops of a liquid onto the water’s surface.
They watched as she turned and took a candle, lighting it. Slowly, she walked into the water, holding the candle aloft.
“The black candle,” whispered Mother Asta. “It is central to their power. Avalon told me that the Black Witch in the Outlying Zone kept one burning constantly.”
“What did she throw into the water?” whispered Escolen.
“I don’t know,” Mother Asta whispered back. “But we should stay after she has left and try to see what it was.”
They watched the flame from the candle flickering. The woman held it higher, and then she started to chant in a high voice. Mother Asta frowned. The words were unfamiliar to her; she had never heard this language before.
A cold wind started to rise from the water. Mother Asta watched it swirling around the woman, making her flesh prickle. The Mother’s heart started to thump painfully. She could feel the evil lurking in the water, surrounding them. Beside her, Escolen shivered.
The woman’s voice grew higher and more frantic. The words tumbled over each other in a great wave.
Mother Asta blinked. She could see someone else now. A woman, still, but one with long, black hair. She was shorter than Avalon. She turned to the side, and Mother Asta could see that her profile was quite different to the real queen’s profile.
And then, it was as if it had all been an illusion. Mother Asta blinked, again, and the woman looked exactly like Avalon once more. Her skin was glowing, and the long, chestnut-colored hair – like the queen’s – was shimmering in the moonlight.
“I would never have believed it,” whispered Escolen, “if I hadn’t witnessed it.”
“This is how it works,” Mother Asta whispered back. “She chants the spell, and briefly, she goes back to her true form before the one that she is assuming re-appears. At least, this is how it happens for a sorceress at the beginning of her powers.” She paused. “Avalon told me that the Black Witch
could change forms instantly, but she was highly skilled and would still have had to perform this ritual sometimes.”
“Have you seen enough?” whispered Escolen.
Mother Asta nodded. “As soon as you said she was heading to the fjord, I knew. Water is the source of her power. I think that Avalon must have tapped into that, somehow, at the house, to speak to her animals.” She felt a stab of excitement. “Water is the key, Escolen.”
They watched as the sorceress slowly dressed then picked up her things and walked back to the camp.
“She must be completely insane,” whispered Escolen. “Going into that icy water, stark naked!”
Mother Asta stared at him. “You would endure it, too, if it gave you so much power.” She craned her neck, watching the woman. “She’s gone. I am going to the water’s edge to see what she threw in.”
Mother Asta had to wade in, just a little. She gasped, as the icy water pierced her like a thousand needles. Escolen was right. It was madness coming in here.
She could see plants, bobbing in the water. Yes, of course. Herbs. She gathered their drooping forms. She would be able to identify them later, back in her tent.
But what of the liquid that the sorceress had tipped in?
Mother Asta put her nose against the water, breathing deeply, but it was too late. Whatever she had tipped in was gone. She should have expected it; it was a large expanse of water, and the woman had only shaken in a few drops.
Suddenly, a whisper of a scent came to her. She knew it. It was frankincense!
She quickly leapt from the water, clutching the herbs to her chest. Escolen was standing there with a blanket. He wrapped it around her. Her teeth were chattering so hard, she could barely speak.
“The things you do,” whispered Escolen, shaking his head. “You are a wonder, Mother, plunging into icy water in the dark at your age!”
“At least I had my clothes on,” quipped the Mother, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself.
“Has it been fruitful?” asked Escolen, holding his breath.
“Very.” Mother Asta nodded vigorously. “I will be able to identify the herbs she used, and I recognized the scent – just. It is frankincense oil. Now, I should be able to start the spell reversal, using all the elements the sorceress used.”