The Shifu Cloth (The Chronicles of Eirie 4)

by Prue Batten

  ‘Stop, stop! Nico, I need you to help me before we get to the Orchard. Please listen to me.’

  The boat floated, oars stilled, bow into the banks and Isabella knew she had moments to make her case.

  ‘Nicholas, I know you cannot heal me, that my time is limited, but I need you to make me look well. I need you to give me strength. I need you to do this not for me, but for Adelina. She needs to see her daughter well, to have time to welcome me home without the inevitable grief that accompanies me looking like a death mask as I no doubt do at this moment.’ Tears gathered but didn’t fall. ‘Phelim and Gallivant will suspect the truth quite quickly, isn’t that the nature of Others? But my mother? She needs just the rest of today with a well daughter, not a dying one. Can you try?’

  He sat with his hands knotted between his knees, his eyes closed tight. In a moment he appeared to have made up his mind, no one moving in the boat as he raised his hand, palm open, dragging it through the air over Belle’s shape.

  She had no way of knowing the outcome because for sure she felt as agonised as previously, but her strength seemed better, as if she could stand unaided. She turned to her friend from the Han.

  ‘You look like the woman I met during the Spring Lantern Festival,’ Ming Xao said.

  She looked to Chi and the Celestial’s face was as impassive as Belle had yet seen it but a hand was lifted in a gesture of approbation. She wished she had a comb, a mirror, anything to smooth away the travel creases and tangles, but surely colour in her cheeks and strength in her limbs was enough.

  Yes…

  The men pushed out the oars and dug them into the river flow, pulling the punt around the corner.

  ‘By the Fates,’ Poli’s voice filled the air. ‘By the Fates, friends,’ he slapped his oar on the water, sending up a diamond drop spray as if the very waters welcomed them. ‘We’ve done it!’

  For leagues all around, the blossoms of peaches and apricots foamed and drifted on the air. The tears that Belle had felt gathering in her eyes began to trickle and she dashed them away, hating that anyone should see the emotion, refusing to acknowledge her dry throat or the ravishing pain deep inside.

  Kitsune, thank you. I am home.

  ***

  The sadness inside Nicholas had swamped him when Isabella had requested his help. Here was the plain truth standing in front of him – a woman, his sister-cousin, who was dying.

  Can’t pretend.

  The poignancy of her need to look well for her family, to be strong for her family; it cut to the quick.

  Ah Belle, you have come so far…

  When he dropped his head and stared at his hands, it wasn’t because he tussled with the morals of using eldritch enchantment. It was because of the grief that threatened to reduce him to nothing. And the worry that he may not be able to accomplish something that meant so much to her.

  ‘Nicholas,’ a voice whispered in his mind. ‘They can’t hear me, but you can and I say you can do this. Have faith in yourself.’

  Moonlady?

  ‘Later, Nicholas. You have work to do. Do it!’

  And so he did.

  Isabella looked like the Belle of old – that luscious ebony hair with its curious henna tints, the sparkling eyes, the smooth skin and the pert mouth. That swanlike neck that had so charmed the beaus at the Fair. He glanced quickly at Poli and saw infatuation writ large and was not displeased. The man coughed and bent to his oar and Nicholas couldn’t help smiling.

  Well, even that would be nice for a few hours.

  ‘Listen, all of you,’ Belle said, her voice stronger and so very positive. ‘We know my fate and it cannot be gainsaid. But for the next few hours I want joy, I want pleasure and happiness, I want laughter and…oh Nico, tell them. You know what I’m like. I just want, don’t I?’

  She laughed, an infectious sound that energised them more than the most eldritch of all magicks and Nico called out in silence to the one who knew how his heart worked.

  Moonlady, I haven’t forgotten. I know the connection between my family and hers must be broken to right wrongs. I must speak with you…

  ‘Later, Nicholas. There is time.’

  Is there?

  ‘A little.’

  He turned and glanced at Chi and she nodded, a barely-there dip of the head. She had heard everything and he was relieved, as if he had someone who could support him.

  *

  They paddled only a little further, and then nosed the bow into a small jetty, the oars clattering as they unshipped them. Poli leaped over the side with the painter and tied it to a post and then helped Chi onto the wooden planks of the jetty. Ming Xao stood, holding Isabella by the elbow, passing her to Poli’s care and it was fascinating Nico thought, to see Poli deferring so meaningfully after the last weeks of tension.

  Poli, if you were a dog your tongue would hang out.

  *

  Ming Xao and Nicholas disembarked together.

  ‘It is beautiful, like nothing I have ever seen. How is that the trees bloom and fruit at once? What…’

  Chi Nü stood waiting for them as Poli led Belle up the riverbank with her hand resting in the crook of his elbow.

  ‘The trees are Færan, Nicholas says. There is much that is strange hereabouts. Everything is perfect. The weather, the birdsong…life. You can experience it and you can read about it in Jasper’s library.’

  ‘We are going to a library?

  ‘Yes,’ she replied for Nicholas. ‘He says Jasper was a type of grandfather for him. The kind of man every boy wants to turn to for advice and selfless love. He was Færan but like none Nicholas knows, apart from Phelim, his stepfather. Jasper called himself odd but Nico says exceptional.’

  Chi Nü smiled, the little sign of happiness a beam of light in a dark room, and then she continued for Nicholas.

  ‘His library is a dream come true, Ming Xao. Nicholas said you will find books that exist nowhere else and it is the most puzzling room. Quite average in size and yet one just keeps walking and it never ends, and if you climb the ladders to the top shelves, you find there is a balcony and another and another. Sometimes, he says, he used to think Jasper’s library was bigger than the Venichese Museo.’

  They walked together up the rise and the fragrance of the fruit and the blossoms wrapped around them, butterflies and bees dipping and fluttering from branch to branch.

  ‘You like reading?’ Ming Xao asked.

  Nicholas nodded.

  ‘It is my consolation and my pleasure,’ he mindspoke and Chi conveyed. ‘Jasper left me his house and his treasury of knowledge when he died. I think he hoped I would become a healer – as he was, as my step-grandmother was. I tell you, if I could heal only one person in my life, and that person Belle, then I would consider myself a scion amongst healers.’

  They had reached the top of the bank and joining the others, they gazed at the Ymp Tree Orchard, stuff of legend.

  ‘Right then, Nico, third row from the bottom, isn’t that what they say?’

  But a voice chimed in, a figure dressed in hunting green leaning against one of the trees.

  ‘Yes,’ she said in her pert tones. ‘That’s what they say when you need to find Færan, but you are already here. They know you come, Nicholas. They have been told and they hurry to meet you.’

  ‘Botanica!’

  ‘Yes, it is I. Mindspeak, Nicholas, I can understand quite readily.’ The dainty Siofra, friend to his family in times past, leaned on her long bow, her delicate face wreathed in a smile.

  ‘And yet Phelim and Gallivant never could,’ he said.

  ‘They were too overwrought with Isabella’s disappearance and much that could have helped them was of little use in their distress. May I say, Isabella, it is a good thing that you do.’

  ‘If you know, won’t they?’ Isabella’s face fell and for one moment Nico thought his mesmer had faded.

  ‘No. Their emotions are still at work. When they begin to realise, it won’t really matter. But you say you w
ant joy,’ Botanica slung her bow over her shoulder. ‘This is a joyful moment. You, Nicholas and you, Poli, have brought her home. You are heroes of legend and everyone celebrates because of you. If you listen you can hear gittern and lute and tabour and flute on the wind and festivities abound amongst all Others who have a care.’

  Indeed, just as Botanica had said, music floated on a welkin wind and the smell of fine foods wound through the trees.

  ‘But be warned, Man of the Han, if you follow the music or the fragrance, you will never leave. You shall be trapped in Færan forever. Some say it is a cruel punishment.’

  Ming Xao took a small step back from her warning, as if the trees that settled blossom on his toes might be his demise.

  ‘We must go to meet the family, Botanica. We have little time.’

  ‘I know. And bless you.’ She turned to leave but spoke over her shoulder. ‘Nicholas, sometimes when one wants something that seems impossible, one has to go to the highest power.’

  ‘What does she mean?’ Poli asked. ‘What do we want other than Belle to get well? Does she mean there is someone in this world of Others capable of the strongest magick? Would magick be enough…’

  As he went to pose more hypotheticals, voices shouted in amongst the rows of trees and in a second, Isabella had broken away from her friends and raced down the other side of the bank, yelling and crying.

  ‘A raving lunatic,’ Poli muttered quite fondly and Nico grinned.

  No, just Isabella as she normally is – loud and excited, but I am unable to tell you.

  Poli strode after her, iron filings to a magnet, leaving Nicholas and the two Han companions alone at the top of the rise. Chi slipped her hand inside Nico’s elbow.

  ‘I wish…’ she whispered.

  ‘Wishes are pointless and we mustn’t. We must make the most of these hours. Belle is being herself and I am glad of it. She is also possibly showing off in front of Poli.’

  ‘Showing off?’

  Chi tried to find a meaning in the words.

  ‘Posturing. Trying to show Poli she is worth his attention. She was always very good at that and it adds to the act for her family.’

  ‘Do you think she wants his attention?’

  ‘I think if things were different she most definitely would.’ He smiled. ‘Despite the fact she has claimed he is a bully and dogmatic and overly sure of himself, I think she may well have met her match.’

  ‘I know why you laugh,’ interrupted Ming Xao. ‘You can see a match between them, can’t you? And I agree, they are two sides of the same coin in so many ways. What a pity it is…ah, but we must not think on it. Instead we must think on how to save her. Nicholas, the little woman…you called her Botanica? What did she mean, ‘higher power’?’

  ‘I think,’ interrupted Chi Nü, ‘it may be we should stop this, for we have company. Look!’

  Walking back up the inland slope toward them were Phelim and Gallivant, Isabella in her mother’s arms at the very bottom of the slope and surrounded by cascading blossom.

  Nicholas’s feet seemed to have rooted to the ground. He waited for his stepfather to stand an arm’s length away. Even Gallivant said nothing.

  For a moment.

  And then,

  ‘Sink me!’ He flew at Nicholas, wrapping him in a hug of troll-like proportions. ‘You are an utter legend. How did you do it? I have sat and read Jasper’s books on scrying and augury until I am cross-eyed, even tried to track the Travellers down, to see if you were still alive, and then you quite literally wander into…’

  ‘Gallivant,’ said Phelim quietly. ‘Hush.’ He took his stepson in his arms and Nicholas cried, heavy silent sobs that wracked his body. ‘I am so proud, so grateful. There, Nico, it is done. You have succeeded. You and Poli. Revel in your success.’

  Nico stood back, surveying this man who had stood at the head of a family driven to distraction by grief. To be sure the grey wings still marked his hair in the most elegant way, but the drawn face, the eyes heavy with exhaustion, the mouth that hadn’t smiled for many seasons – all gone.

  And Gallivant? He had obviously had time to change into his most lavish tailcoat when he received the news of their arrival. The damask, a crushed strawberry shade, was littered with stunning embroideries of berries, birds and insects on the lapels and the pocket flaps. His golden hair had grown and he tied it back in a black ribbon, and the hazel eyes glinted with merriment that reminded Nico of times past when the Hob had entertained them mightily with stories that had them rolling on the floor with laughter.

  All this with Isabella’s return.

  ‘Nico?’ asked Phelim. ‘Your voice?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘But the connection…’

  Nico dragged out the remains of the charcoal stub and his last little piece of paper.

  ‘Not what we thought. Let it go. What matters is Belle.’

  He grabbed Phelim’s arm, turning him toward Adelina and her daughter. Womanly laughter flowed up the rise, and even from this vantage point, Adelina seemed revived.

  ‘Looks good, does she not?’ Gallivant rocked on his toes, hands pulling on his lapels. ‘Phelim woke her this morning and told her you were coming. She blossomed like a rosebud in the sun. The lines of sorrow dissolved like sugar in water and her eyes brightened instantly. It was like watching an enchantment. Sink me, I owe you so much, dear boy. I have my Stitchlady back again.’

  The weight of their joy was crushing and yet through it all, Nico managed to introduce them to Chi Nü and Ming Xao by sign language, allowing Ming to explain their role in the adventure. They talked as they walked, Nicholas aware of happiness as one is aware of vague sound outside one’s concentration.

  He thought of higher powers.

  Aine the mother.

  The Celestials.

  The Moonlady…

  *

  When he saw the manor house glowing in the afternoon sun, calm stretched itself over him. As if the house knew what was required and was confident that it could provide it. Even if it was only comfort and shelter for the next few hours.

  Noise drifted from the kitchen as Margriet and Folko prepared an exuberant repast for everyone. Belle sat centre stage, like old times, lapping the attention like a cat with cream. Poli’s expression was not dissimilar. It was as if all were under some sort of magick and Nico realised it was Isabella’s charm, her happiness. He scrutinised her for signs that his mesmer had begun to fail and finding none, took Ming Xao by the arm and left him at the door of Jasper’s library with his mouth hanging open. That, at the very least, made Nicholas’ own mouth turn up at the corners.

  How Jasper and Ebba would have liked you…

  With the tread of a wraith, he moved to the door at the front of the house, tracing the carved runes that made it swing wide. He stepped through, walking amongst the topiary and borders, through the walled garden until he reached the path to the lake.

  ‘I would like to go with you, Nicholas, for I know what you would do and I am in full agreement.’

  He turned at the sound of her soft voice.

  Chi Nü was even more beautiful. She had unknotted her hair and brushed it and it flowed down her back like a river of shadow. She had used a long enamelled pin from the Han to draw the hair back from her face. Despite the fact she still wore the grubby quilted travelling robes, she moved with grace, as if dressed in silks. She tapped along the pathways with one of Jasper’s carved staffs for guidance and he hurried to help her, taking her cool hand in his and holding it quite firmly.

  ‘Then you know we have little time left and this is all I can think of?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Shall it work?’

  ‘Only those who are powerful will know.’

  ‘You?’

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘I have only ever been a lesser Celestial, Nico. I doubt I could be any help even if I wasn’t cursed with a punishment. The best I can be is your friend.’

  ‘
There is more power in a friendship than I could possibly have imagined, Chi. I thank you.’

  They walked on together toward the lake that carried so many memories for Nicholas. He found comfort in Chi’s hand, as if his spine could be reinforced that much more.

  ‘Chi?’ he mindspoke. ‘Did you ever watch mortals outside the Han?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Pymm?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Trevallyn?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Have you been to the Orchard before?’

  She took her time replying. Nicholas thought a blush spread across her cheeks.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did you know me…before?’

  Again – two heartbeats and then,

  ‘I did.’

  He let go of her hand, doubt creeping in.

  ‘Is all this something contrived by yourself and those like you?’

  His shoulders tensed, the muscle of his jaw beginning to flick-flack, disillusion akin to that which he felt when he read his father’s letter seeping in, weighing him down.

  She snorted, a sound he never thought to hear from someone so refined.

  ‘You think so? That I am blind for some amusement? That I sat myself in Ibo’s path in the Han to precipitate a meeting with you? Don’t be ridiculous, Nicholas. Think of how many variables could have upset such a game plan. No, this is not something I chose. Not even something the Celestials chose. I believe it is Fate moving the pieces on the board. You see,’ she added, her voice diminished and sad, ‘sometimes even the Celestials lose. Badly done, Nicholas, badly done.’

  She subsided to a log by her side and profound silence pervaded the copse in which they found themselves. Nicholas didn’t know what to say. Even a worm moving in the soil could have been heard so deep was the quiet, stretching through the trees and leaves as far as the lakeside beyond which,

  There was a man who killed a man in a stupid, contrived game…

  ‘I am sorry…’

  *

  ‘Why should she reply, Nicholas? It was a thoughtless comment.’

  He spun around.

  ‘Moonlady!’

  She stood at the edge of the copse. As always, her silver filigree hair with its diamonds and pearls drifted in the soft welkin wind that sighed through the leaves. Her midnight skirts fluffed and flirted and her nightime-blue kid boots traced a silent pathway as she walked forward.