They slept near the embers of the bonfire. When dawn came, Alia woke them with a shout before walking off, a large earthenware jar in her arms.
Wren stretched and rubbed her eyes, but Patch knew she hadn’t slept much. Neither had he.
Beside them, Barver was still snoring. Patch nudged him until he sat up with a start, one eye still shut. “How dare it be morning,” muttered Barver.
Tell me about it, signed Wren. She looked over to where Alia stood, some distance from them, pouring salt from the large jar to create various shapes on the ground.
“She must have found a way to help you, Wren,” said Patch.
I’m scared to ask, signed Wren.
They all watched Alia prepare, and at last she came over to them. “I’m ready,” she said. “Wren, I’d hoped to be able to shatter the curse once and for all, but I fear it was too well constructed. Instead, I offer you this.” She held up her hand, and in her fingers was a bracelet with intensely blue beads. “I did find a slight flaw in the curse, one that will let you be shielded from its power temporarily. This bracelet will give a few days at a time of human form. It’s the best I can do.” She put the bracelet around Wren’s midriff. “Sadly it’s not just a case of putting the bracelet on. It must be bonded to what is called your ‘morphic countenance’. The process is painful.” She looked at Barver and Patch with narrowed eyes. “And the two of you must not interfere, under any circumstances! It would put your friend in great danger. Do I make myself clear?”
They both nodded; Alia’s stern gaze was enough to make anyone terrified of disobeying her.
“Make sure they do as they’re told, Tobias,” said Alia.
Patch felt almost sick with fear for Wren, yet he could do nothing but watch as Alia took his friend over to the salt symbols and set her down in the centre. She poured more salt from the jar, forming an outer circle thirty feet across. The circle complete, Alia stepped inside and began to speak. Patch couldn’t place the language, a harsh and guttural tongue, all phlegm and spit. Her words turned into a chant.
“Ree tee ko pak!” she cried. “Thagh pak skarra tak!” She raised her arms straight up as the chant grew in volume. A continuous low rumble began, and Patch could see the air within the circle shimmer.
Wren squeaked, and scratched at the bead bracelet with her hind legs, clearly in discomfort.
“Ree tee ko pak!” cried Alia. “Thagh pak skarra tak!” Her arms swept down suddenly, open palms held out to Wren. The air above the salt circle seemed to have texture now, moving like oil spilled in water. Patch looked to Barver, both of them deeply uneasy. The low rumble grew ever louder.
Wren shrieked, twisting in agony on the ground. Smoke started to rise where the beads touched her fur.
Patch stepped forward.
“We can’t interfere!” said Barver, but Patch ignored him and went even closer. He moved around the outside of the circle. There was heat coming from it now, and the light within seemed to redden suddenly. Alia’s chant continued louder and louder, and Patch saw her face…
He ran and fetched his Pipe from his bag. As he rushed back, Tobias stood in his way.
“You heard her,” said Tobias. “Interfering could harm Wren!”
Patch pointed into the circle. “Something’s wrong! Look at Alia, Tobias! Look at her eyes!”
Tobias looked. “Dear God,” he said, backing off.
Alia’s face was a grinning mask and her eyes were glowing red. Her chant took on an edge of madness – laughter burst from her mouth after every few words, a terrible insane cackle.
Wren was screaming now, writhing in pain, smoke pouring from her fur. Everyone was frozen, staring as the light within the circle darkened, until only the red glow from Alia’s eyes remained.
“She’ll be killed!” said Patch. He got as close as he could to the circle and stretched his foot out to the textured air. As he’d expected, the air formed a barrier. He looked at the swirling patterns directly above the salt and remembered how Alia had described the intricate layers of a Sorcerer’s work, and how it was not so different from the layers of a Song.
He started to play the same counter-Song he’d played to save Wren back in Patterfall. To his amazement, he could see patterns forming on the barrier, patterns that changed as he played. He tried to create something that matched the shapes already there, hoping it would somehow negate them. Again and again, he tweaked what he was playing and observed how the patterns altered, and suddenly he struck lucky – a tiny gap seemed to open up, and widen. He intensified his playing, then reached out his hand. It was a gap, a break in the barrier wide enough for him to fit through, if he dived! He steeled himself and made the attempt, passing through the gap and landing hard inside the circle. He looked back at the barrier and saw the gap closing over. The noise was overwhelming, as if he was in the centre of a howling storm, Alia’s yelling and Wren’s screams only just audible. Wind whipped the black earth into his face, and he could barely see.
He tried to move towards Wren, but it felt like moving through deep mud. Then Alia’s face leered at him, inches away. From this close, her eyes were even more terrifying – Patch could see a fire within, churning and flaring up.
“The deed is done, Brightwater!” she cried, cackling. “Look! The bracelet is bonded to her! She changes!”
“Wren!” he yelled. His friend’s body was surrounded in smoke. “Wren!” He made to go to her, but Alia’s hand gripped his shoulder.
“Leave her be, boy. Let me take a look at you!” Patch trembled with fear as Alia examined him from head to toe, those fiery eyes emitting a fierce heat. Loud as the winds around them were, Patch could hear her perfectly, as if she was speaking directly into his mind.
“I see you!” she said. “Your past! Your future! I see Tiviscan Castle!”
“That’s in my past,” cried Patch. “Absolutely my past.”
“Perhaps!” she said. “Know this: should you ever return to Tiviscan, there will be a heavy price to pay! And what else do I see –” she studied him again, her grip on his shoulder painful now – “I see betrayal!”
“Betrayal…?”
“Yes, betrayal! The words come to me now, the betraying words. Listen and remember! The words I say next, Brightwater, burn them into your memory. There will come a time when you hear these words! A mouth that speaks them is a traitorous mouth, and will betray you to that which you fear most! When you hear them spoken, get away as quickly as you can! Run!”
Her frightening grin faded and she closed her glowing eyes. The wind dropped as she spoke in a gentle sing-song voice: “They thought they had us. But we’re almost clear. Just the ridge to go. What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong?” Her eyes opened again and she stared at him. “An odd set of words, don’t you think?” she said. Her voice shifted in tone, as if she was having a conversation with herself. “I agree, very odd! What say you, Patch? The lad’s gone so very pale. The day’s been quite a strain, I imagine.”
She let him go and began to cackle once more as the howling wind returned. Patch fell to his knees, bewildered by what she’d said. Suddenly a hot blast of air hit him hard, flinging him backwards out of the circle.
There was silence.
He sat upright as a shadow fell across him. It was Alia, offering him a hand up. Her smile was utterly normal now, as were her eyes.
“That’s got a bit of a kick, hasn’t it?” said Alia as she helped Patch to his feet. She dusted herself off, seeming rather high-spirited.
Patch looked to the salt circle. All signs of the barrier had vanished, and a dense mist was starting to dissipate. In the middle lay Wren: human, wearing the clothes they’d seen her wear as she’d tried to flee from Underath.
“It worked…” Patch said.
“It did,” said Alia. “She’ll be fine in a minute or two. I said you could trust me.”
“Ye-ess,” said Patch, not quite over how things had gone. “It was the glowing eyes and the insane laughter that were worrying
me.”
“Glowing eyes again, eh?” said Alia. She gave him an apologetic smile. “I lose track of things when it gets intense, so I can’t remember what happens. Sorry if I scared you. I’ll admit it gives me the heebie-jeebies, but that’s just how it works.” She frowned, as if remembering something. Then she whispered: “You tried to break into the circle, didn’t you—?” She leaned closer, squinting a bit as she looked at him. Her eyes widened suddenly. “You did break in! Fascinating! And very very stupid of you.”
“I was worried something had gone wrong,” he said. “Sorry.”
“Incredible that you managed it at all! But the problems it could have caused… For you, mainly. I didn’t hurt you, did I? Or predict the day of your death, anything like that?”
“Um, what do you mean?” said Patch.
“You know. A prophecy. A warning. That kind of thing. I was really on form in there, I can tell you.”
Patch thought of her prediction of betrayal, unsure what to tell her. “You really don’t know what you did?”
“Not a clue. It often gets a bit intense, but that was a doozy.”
“So…would giving me a prophecy be bad?”
“They’re dangerous things, prophecies,” she said. “Never straightforward. Tend to cause endless trouble.” He was about to tell her the truth, when she added: “And I’d be absolutely riddled with guilt if I had, that’s all.”
“Ah,” said Patch. It struck him that she didn’t really need to know. Given that she’d been helping Wren, surely he could save her from her own guilt? “In that case, no. You didn’t.”
Alia smiled with relief. “Thank goodness for that.”
In the centre of the circle, Wren was starting to sit up. Everyone turned to her.
“Hold on,” said Alia. “Let her get her bearings.”
Barver came to stand beside Patch, and they watched as Wren looked around her, nervous and confused. She scratched her nose, and then she stared at her hand for a good minute or so, bewildered.
Gradually, her wary expression was broken by a smile that grew and grew until, grinning broadly, she leaped to her feet. “Ha!” she cried. She jumped on the spot, then jumped again, laughing. She started to run, and hop, and leap, speeding around the salt circle and the ashes of the previous night’s bonfire.
Suddenly her smile fell away. She looked down at herself, and the smile returned. “Phew!” she said. “Fully clothed!” She punched the air. “I was worried about that.” She saw Patch and Barver, and her mouth opened in a look of utter delight. She ran to Patch and gave him a hug, then switched to hugging Barver. Then she hugged Alia, and Tobias, before hurtling over to Madder and giving him a hug too, whooping and laughing as she went.
At last, thoroughly exhausted, she returned to where Alia was watching her with amusement.
“Happy?” said Alia.
Wren nodded rapidly. “What a result!” For the first time, she noticed that the beaded bracelet was now on her left wrist. “How does it work, then?”
“When the beads are all blue, concentrate, wish it, and you’ll become human for a while. Once invoked, you will remain human until the power in the bracelet runs its course. When that happens, make sure you’re somewhere safe, as you’ll become a rat again! Then you must wait until the power of the beads has returned before you can be human once more. The time will vary – days, at least. You’ll know when it’s ready.”
Wren nodded, and took a closer look at the bracelet.
“A warning,” said Alia. “Do not remove it, or allow it to be removed. The spell would break, and the only flaw in the curse would be closed. You’d be a rat, immediately, and no amount of magic would shield you in future.”
“Understood,” said Wren.
“See the colour fading on one bead?” said Alia. “Each bead changes to white in turn. When all have changed, you become a rat again. As I said, make sure you’re somewhere safe when that happens.”
“And will it always hurt so much?” asked Wren.
“Yes,” said Alia. “Becoming human and becoming rat, both will hurt.”
“Every time?”
“Every time.”
Wren let out a deep sigh, and nodded. “Alia, is there any chance I might find a proper cure?”
“This is the best I can do.” Alia looked to the ground for a moment, visibly upset that she had failed to do more. “At this point, only one other option remains.”
Wren’s eyes lit up. “Really? What?”
“Seek Underath,” said Alia. “As the one who cursed you, he’ll know exactly how the curse was constructed. He might agree to undo it himself.”
Wren looked incredulous. “Isn’t it just a teensy bit unlikely he’d help?”
Alia nodded. “He did seem the unforgiving type, I agree. But I’d suggest flattery. Tell him how amazingly well-made the curse was, and how only a wonderfully clever Sorcerer could unpick it. You never know, he might say yes. Assuming he doesn’t just kill you.”
Wren despaired for a moment, but suddenly she smiled again. “Oh, I think he’ll be only too willing to help! He’ll know he has no choice when he sees what powerful allies I’ve brought with me! The greatest Piper in the world, and the most fearsome beast you’ll ever meet!”
She threw her arms out dramatically and gestured towards Patch and Barver, who instinctively looked behind them to see what Wren was talking about. It took a few seconds before they realized she’d meant them.
“Ah,” said Patch.
“Um,” said Barver.
Wren clapped, grinning. “Glad you’re aboard!” she said. “Underath won’t know what’s hit him!”
Alia spent the next hour checking Wren for possible problems with the spell that had been cast, using an elaborate range of tests that included burning hairs plucked from Wren’s head, and making her balance pine cones on her elbow.
In the meantime, Patch found a blank sheet of paper and a piece of charcoal on one of the tables in Alia’s cave, and wrote down the words she had spoken in the circle of salt.
The prophecy.
They thought they had us. But we’re almost clear. Just the ridge to go. What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong?
He stared at the words he’d written. Someone would speak those words, someone who would betray Patch to whatever he feared most, and Patch would have to flee at once. Alia had mentioned how prophecies could cause trouble, and he had to agree – he was already worrying about it.
He began to fold the paper up nervously, as if it was dangerous.
“What do you have there?” came a voice.
Startled, Patch turned to see Barver. “Nothing,” he said, putting the paper into his pocket.
Barver nodded to the cave entrance, where Alia was now getting Wren to hop for as long as possible. “Wren’s serious, you know,” he said, keeping his voice low. “About confronting Underath.”
“I don’t think that would end well,” said Patch. “From what we saw in the fire, didn’t you get the feeling his wife was the scary one?”
“Perhaps, but if I can speak with Alkeran, his griffin, I may be able to learn our best course of action. There might be something we could offer, in exchange for help. You know, something valuable. And magical…”
Patch stared at him. “You mean the Mask?”
“I notice you still haven’t mentioned it to Tobias or Alia.”
“Of course not!” said Patch. “It’s valuable! And essential to my future, since Wren’s parents aren’t quite as rich as she’d suggested, and are actually very, very poor. The Mask is the only thing of value I possess.”
“So you won’t part with it, even to help Wren?”
Patch grumbled to himself for a moment, his teeth firmly clamped together. “Okay, okay. If the Mask will buy Underath’s help, then…fine.”
Barver patted him on the back. “You have very high principles,” he said. “You should be proud.”
“Proud and poor,” muttered Patch.
As t
hey left Gemspar, Wren rode with Patch, and Alia with Tobias. Patch found himself half-wishing for bandits to attack again, just to see how the Witch of Gemspar Mountain dealt with them. Spectacularly, he reckoned, but in the end the journey was uneventful.
When they reached the Abbey, Patch dismounted and led the horse to the gate, with Wren still in the saddle.
Erner Whitlock hurried out to greet them, in his black-and-purple Custodian robes.
Patch was pleased to see his friend, and they gave each other a hearty hug. “Shouldn’t you be arresting me?” Patch said quietly. “Before I run away again?”
“Why would I arrest you, Henry Smith?” said Erner with a wink. “How did it go?” Patch smiled and nodded to the rider on the horse, and Erner grinned. “Wren? Is that you?”
Wren jumped down from the horse, and hugged Erner. “It’s me! The less ratty version.”
“You’re cured then?” said Erner.
“Sort of,” she said. “It’s temporary, but I hope to remedy that soon enough.”
Tobias and Alia joined them. “We have the medicine to heal Rundel,” said Tobias. “How is he faring?”
“No deterioration,” said Erner. “Your healing Song has been doing its job.”
“Good, good,” said Tobias.
“What are your plans?” Erner said to Patch. “Will you stay a while at the Abbey?”
“When Rundel Stone wakes, I want to be as far away as possible,” said Patch. “The sooner we leave, the better.”
“Do you know what you’re going to do?” said Erner.
“I’m not decided yet,” said Patch. “But a new life in the Eastern Seas is an option.”
Erner looked anxious. “A dangerous place, my friend.”
“He’ll be fine,” said Barver. “I’ll look after him.”
“I’m sure you can do that very well,” said Erner.
“We have some errands to run first,” said Barver. “The letter,” he added, looking at Patch – his mother’s last wishes.
“And I need to see Underath,” said Wren. “The Sorcerer who cursed me. It seems he’s now the only one who can fully undo his work, so I have no choice but to face him! I’ve vowed not to return home until I’m cured, and I intend to keep that vow.”
A Darkness of Dragons Page 18