by David Hodges
“If you’re so worried, you don’t have to come. We’ll manage without you,” said Hazel sharply.
“I’m just trying to be sensible.”
Daniel said, “They must’ve taken some of the guards down, and we’ve seen what Alviva can do with her bow.”
Hazel nodded and looked to Alviva.
Alviva said resolutely, “Alright, we need a plan.”
Daniel replied, “Fergus and I will get their attention and give you time to free Faron and Bjorn.”
“Err, have you already forgotten how that turned out last time?” said Fergus.
“We made it here, didn’t we?” said Daniel.
“Coinín, will you go with them?” asked Hazel.
Coinín nodded. “Of course.”
Alviva said, “There’s a broken window near the study. We can climb up to it and avoid the guards on the main level.”
“Alright, there’s your plan, let’s do it,” said Daniel.
Hazel climbed down the hayloft and went to one of the stalls with the others.
Alviva took Daniel’s hand and said, “Be careful, just make some noise and get their attention, then get out of sight.”
Daniel kissed Alviva, then hugged Hazel and said, “You can do this.” He turned and went through the stall doors toward the front of the manor.
Alviva sent her kite through the door and said to Hazel, “Wait.” A few seconds passed. “Alright, follow me.”
Hazel followed her to the side of the manor where a soldier was sprawled amidst shards of glass, his head was bloody and his eyes were open and unblinking.
Alviva began climbing up the wall, using the grouting between the thick slabs of stone as holds. Hazel followed her up, and waited beneath her, listening for the decoy.
Her arms began to shake. Bollocks, hurry up. Just as she thought she would not be able to hold on much longer, she felt her eyes change, then there was an odd sensation in her finger tips and she saw her nails darkening. They became curved and pointed, then shot out from her fingertips. The fatigue in her arms faded, and she was suddenly comfortable there hanging on the wall.
There was a crash of glass in the distance. Then barking, Hazel recognized it as Ralf’s endearing attempt at a menacing holler. A door opened and close above in the hallway, then footsteps running down the hall.
“Clear,” Alviva whispered down to Hazel.
Hazel climbed into the hallway through the jagged edges of the glass, careful not to cut herself on them. When she was in, she looked down at her hands and watched her claws retract into her fingertips, then her nails regained their normal appearance.
Alviva removed her bow from her shoulder and pulled out a few arrows from her quiver, then held one of them half drawn as she stealthily set down the hall.
Hazel quietly unsheathed Crúbail and followed behind her. She stopped at a door where Alviva began listening closely.
Behind the door, Hazel could hear a voice, “Bjorn, you don’t have to die today. It’s not too late to join us. Your place is above the Creiche, you know that.”
Alviva looked to Hazel, nodded, then turned to the door and kicked it open with surprising force. She charged in and immediately fired an arrow at Cuyler who had already taken aim at her.
Hazel heard an exchange of arrows as she ran to Faron. She set to cutting his ties, but the white, sticky rope was surprisingly difficult to cut, even with such a sharp blade.
She was about half way through frantically sawing at it when she heard a cry of pain. She looked up and saw Cuyler with an arrow through his hand. Hazel watched another of Alviva’s arrows fly into his other hand, pinning it to the bookshelf behind him.
“Don’t move,” she said as she aimed an arrow at his head.
Hazel looked back down at Faron’s wrists and saw that she had accidentally cut them, though the wounds were shallow. The ties finally came undone. Faron held out his hand. “Your sword.”
Hazel handed it to him, and in a few long, deft slices, he cut through the rope binding his legs. He went to Bjorn and cut his ties, then helped him up. One of Bjorn’s arms was bleeding badly. Faron tied the rope he had just cut off of Bjorn’s wrist around the wound. Bjorn grimaced.
Faron went to Cuyler and picked up his bow, then with changed hands and arms, he quickly bent it, snapping it in half. He tossed the fragments into the fireplace. He took the arrows out of Cuyler’s quiver and dropped them into Alviva’s, then he removed the short blade and scabbard off of Cuyler’s waist and secured it to his own. He struck him hard across the face, and Cuyler slumped down the bookcase, hanging there by his punctured hand. As he handed Hazel her sword, he said, “I told you not to come in. I’m glad you didn’t listen. We need to get to the village.”
“What about the Spheres?” said Hazel.
“I don’t know where they’ve taken them, they’ll be guarded. Bjorn is hurt, we’re too few, we’re going back to the village.” Faron went to the door.
“Where are the others?”
“Cameron was taken, the others are dead... there’s no time.” He pulled Hazel out the door into the hall.
A door suddenly swung open ahead of them. Aatu walked out holding Ayalon in front of him. “Where do you think you’re going,” he growled. Ayalon suddenly grabbed Aatu’s arms and changed. His eyes filled with brown and a massive pair of antlers grew from his head. He managed to free himself from Aatu’s hold
Alviva seized the opportunity to unleash her arrows at Aatu. Aatu blocked a pair of them as he retreated to the broken window, where he leapt out. His wolves had remained and converged on Ayalon, tearing at his neck as he was brought down to the ground. He struggled to ward them off with his antlers.
“No!” cried Faron.
Alviva put an arrow in each of them and they collapsed to the ground with whimpers, then they fell silent. Faron went to aid his father who was lying between the limp wolves. Alviva looked out of the window and her wings began to grow from her back. “No, Alviva, we stay together,” said Faron. The feathers on her back retracted.
“Hazel, you must listen.” Ayalon coughed. His neck was torn open, blood gushing from it between Faron’s fingers as he held his father.
Hazel knelt down beside him.
“Your mother, when she returned... she told me that she hid the Sphere to protect Talamh from itself. She saw something there, something terrible.” Ayalon coughed up a stream of blood and his gaze became distant as he raised his red hand to Hazel’s cheek and touched it lightly. “I had no choice, the world is changing too fast. I only meant to keep us safe. Forgive me, Sophia.”
“What did she see?” pleaded Hazel, tears flowing.
Ayalon’s eyes widened, and he sighed. “We’re not alone.” His hand fell from Hazel’s face. It was his last breath.
Faron gently brushed his father’s eyelids shut, then pulled Hazel away from Ayalon’s body. “We have to go,” said Faron as he guided her away.
They retreated toward the staircase at the end of the hall, but before they could reach it, an arrow literally screeched through the air from around the corner, embedding itself in the wall above the stairs.
Hazel halted in front of the staircase and looked down the hall. Cameron was standing there with his bow in his hand. She heard boots charging up the stairs.
She began to run toward him.
He shook his head at her. Then several soldiers rushed out beside him.
“Go back!” yelled Faron, turning Hazel around.
She sprinted back to the other end of the hall to another staircase and began descending it just as shots fired behind her and blasted apart the wall in front of her. She made it down to the ground level, and as she ran for a door that led outside, a pair of soldiers appeared. Alviva put an arrow in one’s neck before he could take aim, and Bjorn charged through the other as he tore the musket from him.
They reached the stables, and Hazel was relieved to see Daniel, Fergus, and Coinín waiting. “Get in!” said Faron. “Coinín, take
us back to the village.”
Hazel rode in the back of the wagon with the others.
“Where’s Cameron?” asked Daniel.
Hazel said, “He was back there, with the soldiers.”
Alviva said, “That was the arrow he cured. I think he was warning us.”
Faron said, “Or giving away our location. I think he’s joined Marlow.”
“Why would he do that? We have to go back for him, we have to be sure!” shouted Daniel.
Faron shook his head and looked to Hazel. He said apologetically, “There’s something you need to know. I didn’t know until minutes ago, I promise I would have told you.”
“What is it?” said Hazel impatiently.
Faron took a deep breath. “The reason Marlow is here, the reason he knows about us, is that he knew your mother before she went on the voyage. They were in love. He’s Cameron’s father.”
“No, that’s not possible. You’re mistaken,” said Hazel hysterically.
“Hazel, there’s more. Your mother never went back there. She became ill after you were born, she died in Leicester.”
Hazel felt sick.
Hazel sat in the wagon, deaf to the gate opening outside and Coinín’s exchange with the Creachs. Her cheeks were wet with fresh tears. Could her mother really have been the cause of all this? No, Hazel had helped too. She found her hidden Sphere for Marlow.
A storm had rolled in. There were claps of thunder and heavy rain fell. Coinín had made it through the gate and back into Talamh without incident. As they approached the village center, Hazel was suddenly drawn out of her ruminations by gunshots. Then she could hear men yelling, women screaming, and children crying.
She looked out of the wagon and saw groups of Athraithe clustered together in the pouring rain. Some were hurt. Some were lying still in the mud. Soldiers were scouring the streets, dragging the villagers from their homes. Creachs stood by and watched the chaos unfold.
“We’ve got to do something,” said Daniel.
Bjorn replied, “We’re too late for them. We have to keep going toward the mines. Bjarke and Uschi should be headed there by now, they might have gotten a few out.”
Hopelessness overcame Hazel as the terrible sounds filled her ears.
Faron took her hand and said, “This isn’t over yet, Hazel. We can still help.”
As they continued away from the village center on the river trail, the sounds of the siege began to fade. They were replaced by the sounds of the rushing river and the lighter rainfall on top of the wagon’s canvas cover. They helped Hazel calm down.
After a few minutes on the trail, the wagon stopped. Hazel heard a child begin to cry outside, then the back flaps of the wagon opened. Bjarke was standing there and said, “You made it! The Spheres? Did you...”
Bjorn shook his head, then stepped out of the wagon. Hazel and the others followed after him onto the trail. There was a group of about a dozen people standing in the mud, soaking wet. There were several children and older men and women.
“Help them into the wagon,” said Faron.
Hazel went to one of the elderly women and helped her to the wagon while the others did the same with the rest of the villagers, then she went to help Elisedd lift Fíodor into the wagon.
“Thank you,” Fíodor said weakly. There was more color in his cheeks, but he still looked awful.
When the wagon was full, about half a dozen villagers remained on the trail. Hazel recognized Elisedd’s friends, Leland and Arnie. She also recognized Bede, the librarian, and the young woman that had been at the Samhain with her conducting the marmots. A young man, and a middle-aged man that Hazel had never met were all that was left of the group.
Faron said, “Coinín, you’re not going to the mines.” He grabbed several torches from the back of the wagon and handed them out. “Get them through the gate and meet us at the bottom of the quarry.” He looked to Elisedd and said, “Stay with your father and help Coinín. If you can get a few extra horses along the way, do it.”
Elisedd nodded. He went to Hazel and hugged her. “I’ll see you soon.” He and Coinín set off toward the gate with the wagon.
“You’re sure that’s a good idea?” asked Bjorn.
“They’d have a hard time in the mines, and we’ll need a way to travel once we’re down. It’s worth the risk.” Faron set off down the trail.
Hazel followed with the others as the cold rain began to soak her clothes. Everyone remained silent as they trudged ahead. Then there was a sound in the woods.
Hazel stopped and looked, and saw a pair of brown bears and three cubs.
“There you are,” said Bjorn. He stroked the bear’s wet fur.
Bjarke went to Orson and he was greeted with a hug that nearly knocked him off balance. Orson had his thick arms wrapped around Bjarke’s shoulders as he rubbed the side of his neck against Bjarke’s head. Bjarke said, “Watch our backs.” The bear dropped down to all fours with a grunt and went back into the woods.
The group continued down the trail with their new company for a few minutes. They had not gone far when a roar filled the air. Bjorn’s bear stood straight up on her back legs and looked back down the trail. She waited there, completely stiff until there were men’s shouts in the distance, then another roar. She bolted toward the sounds, her cubs whimpering as they watched her leave.
Bjorn changed, and the fur covering most of his body matched the massive bear barreling ahead. “Faron and I will go see what’s happening, keep going!”
Bjarke changed and said, “I’m coming with you!”
“No! Hurry to the mines!” said Bjorn, stopping him with a meaty brown hand.
Bjarke watched them run off with a worried expression on his face. “He’s already hurt.”
“They’ll be okay,” said Uschi, pulling him down the trail.
They had not made it far when Hazel heard a gunshot behind them. Then another. Bjarke changed and ran back before anyone could stop him. Uschi changed and ran after him.
Hazel looked to Alviva and Coinín. “No more waiting.” Then she said to Daniel and Fergus, “Get them to the mines.”
They nodded.
Hazel ran back with Coinín and Alviva down the trail. As they neared the fight, she could see Einar doing his best to fend off a pair of Creachs while leaping out of the way of several soldiers’ gunshots.
Bjorn was on the ground beside the river, clutching his side. Orson was tangled in a net beside him. Several soldiers laid still near Bjorn and the bears. Bjorn’s bear roared as she furiously charged at one of the soldiers. The soldier screamed while she mauled him, thrashing him about like a rag doll.
Bjarke bellowed as he entered the fray, tackling one of the soldier’s who was reloading his musket near his father. Coinín sprinted ahead to Faron’s aid and engaged one of the Creachs who had been attacking Faron. Alviva loosed her arrows at the soldiers surrounding them, pulling their attention away.
Hazel ran to Bjorn. He was bleeding badly from his side, and he had a gash in one of his legs as well.
“Free him,” said Bjorn, looking toward Orson, tangled and struggling in the webbed net.
Hazel set to cutting the net off of him. It was just as cumbersome as the sticky restraints that she had cut in the manor, but she got through it, freeing Orson.
The fighting sounds had ended. She looked around to see that all of the attackers had been subdued. Then she noticed Bjorn’s bear lying at the edge of the river, her breathing was shallow. Orson scrambled over to his mother and began whimpering as he examined her in a panic, sniffing her bloody wounds. She looked up at him with an effort, then dropped her head back down with a groan. Her side was no longer rising. He nudged her a few times with his nose, then lifted his head and let out an anguished bellow.
Hazel heard horses galloping in the distance. She looked toward the rumbling and saw a line of men coming straight for them.
Bjarke began to lift Bjorn up, when his father said, “Leave me. I can’t walk. I’l
l surrender, they may spare me.” He removed his scabbard and sword and handed it to his son.
“Father, you can’t.”
“Go!” he roared.
Uschi kissed Bjorn on the cheek and hugged him tight before pulling Bjarke away from his father.
The riders were close now.
Hazel sprinted away with the others down the trail. She struggled to keep up at first, then she felt her legs changing with strength flooding into them as claws dug into the soles of her boots while she ran faster and faster. The boost did not last long however, and she felt her lungs burning. She could see the others slowing down ahead as well while the galloping behind them persistently pursued, growing louder and louder.
The pasture came into sight, and Hazel could see the villagers in a small cluster in the distance. They were standing still.
Go, they’re right behind us!
As they drew nearer to the field, Hazel could make out a dark line cresting a hill on the pasture, washing over the field. Aurochs, she realized. When she finally reached the villagers, the Aurochs were charging full speed, straight toward them. Hazel realized that Leland was focused on them, his eyes changed.
The herd was thundering feet in front of them when they suddenly wrapped around the group, the ground shaking as they passed by. Hazel watched as they funneled into the forest trail, forcing the pursuing soldiers to stop, some of them collided with several of the horses.
A few of the aurochs had remained in front of Leland. “Get on!” he shouted.
“Are you mad?” said Fergus.
Everyone got onto the massive bulls, mostly in pairs. Fergus shook his head and climbed up behind Hazel, and they set off with the others.
Hazel leaned forward and wrapped her arms tight around the Bull’s neck while Fergus held on tight around her waist as they rode precariously over the field toward the waterfall.
When they arrived at the cliff, Hazel could see that several of the riders had made it through the herd and were galloping toward them over the pasture.
She and the others climbed down onto the wet rock and made it into the cave below, just as they heard the soldiers above. They continued into the darkness and Faron lit his torch and touched it to the others then led them through the tunnel to the hidden door. Hazel was at the back of the group and heard footsteps coming up the tunnel behind them. She drew her sword.