Shadowfell

by Juliet Marillier

  ‘The Folds?’ I had not heard this name before, and perhaps I had not been meant to hear it, for the one who had spoken was quickly hushed by five or six others.

  ‘A place near where you’re going,’ Silver said, making a trifle of it.

  ‘You don’t know where I’m going,’ I felt obliged to point out. It was freezing up here. The wind was rising, the clouds were darkening. And back down the valley, the disturbance that might be riders on the road was getting bigger.

  My companions had fallen silent. The weight of the situation hung over us all.

  ‘A new plan,’ said Daw, taking charge. ‘We get to a haven and go to ground. We bide there until they’ve passed. Over the hill, halfway along toward the tarn, there’s a place. Neryn, take my hand and hers. You two, keep that bag up off the ground. Now go!’

  Walking with the Good Folk was not like walking with Flint. The memory of how that had felt – his arm in mine, the warmth of his body, the strength of his presence – lingered close, despite my efforts to banish it. His treachery made my heart sore. It made my gut hollow and empty. I fought to maintain the anger that would keep me walking, but it was hard with the day growing colder and the path ahead stretching on and on, up hill and down, over sliding pebbles and sucking mud patches and rocks all jutting edges and deceptive holes. All the time the Good Folk kept pace with me, taking turns to hold my hands, whispering among themselves from time to time. Their bright eyes, their warm paws, their murmurs of encouragement gave me heart and kept me moving.

  We followed a narrow track that lay just below the ridge. Once in a while one of my companions would climb back to the crest to look down into the valley. We would wait, then move on.

  It was on the third such patrol that Daw, perched between the stones on the ridge and looking over, motioned urgently to the rest of us, summoning us to climb up. We scrambled up beside him. We had come further than I thought. Corbie’s Wood lay well behind us, dark and still amid the skeletal trees. Smoke was rising somewhere back there. Not from the ruined settlement; there was nothing of it left to burn. From up the hill beyond that place. And down by Corbie’s Wood there were riders moving about as if searching.

  ‘King’s men are near at hand,’ said Silver. ‘But he has led them the low way.’

  ‘That smoke.’ I made myself say it. ‘It could be the hut. Where we – where I was staying. They may have split into two parties. One could be close behind us.’

  ‘And even if you are wrong,’ said Daw, ‘when they find no trace of you on the low road, they will think of this path. Come, we must make haste.’

  ‘How far to this haven?’ I asked Silver. I did not know how long I could keep going.

  ‘It is not so near,’ Silver said, ‘and not so far. Gentle!’ The little woman she called to was sweet-featured, fair-haired and dressed in a grey hooded robe. She carried a curiously woven bag over her shoulder. ‘You’d best give Neryn one of your cordials.’

  ‘I shouldn’t – I’ve heard –’ I stammered as the little woman opened the bag and took out a minuscule stone bottle sealed with a bark stopper.

  ‘Alban’s full o’ tales, lassie,’ Gentle said, fishing out a nutshell cup. ‘This willna send ye to the Otherworld, nor bind ye to us in any way whatsoever. It will do nae more than give ye strength to walk.’

  It was one risk against another. Drink the draught and accept the consequences, or perhaps fail to reach the place of safety before the Enforcers came. I took the little cup and tilted it to my lips. There was one sip of the draught, and it was like a fire in my mouth. I struggled not to spit it out.

  ‘Swallow it down, now,’ murmured Gentle, her eyes shrewd. I heard in her voice that she had done this more times than anyone could count. ‘Ye’ll feel stronger soon.’

  ‘What’s in that?’ I spluttered.

  ‘Ach, nobbut a herb or two,’ said Gentle, wiping out the cup with a twist of grass. ‘It willna kill ye.’ She glanced at Silver. ‘Give the lassie a bittie time, then we’ll go on, aye?’

  We waited. Down at Corbie’s Wood, I thought I could see the Enforcers gathered in a group now. I wished for better sight, the kind some folk had as a canny gift. I imagined them: dark cloaks, dark horses, men conferring. Ride on up the valley or leave the horses and try the path over the hill? I thought of Flint telling them I was more likely to take the less obvious path: this one, the one he had told me about that allowed a person to skirt the settlements on the way north. How could he have done this? If anyone but the Good Folk had brought me the news of his betrayal, I would have refused to believe it.

  Life was creeping back into my cramped limbs. My mind felt clearer, though beneath the effect of Gentle’s cordial, I knew I was exhausted.

  ‘I’m ready to go on.’

  Gentle looked me up and down. ‘Aye, ye’ll do.’

  ‘On, then,’ said Silver. ‘Rain’s coming. The path moves away from the hilltop now. There’ll be no watching out for king’s men. Go as quick as you can.’

  The path descended into a shallow valley between barren rises studded with oddly shaped rocks. This must be the way Farral and I had used as children when we made our expeditions to Lone Tarn, but I did not remember its being so eerily empty, the slopes so steep, the open spaces so bare and lonely. In a place of such profound silence, I felt like an intruder.

  ‘Quicker, Neryn,’ muttered Silver. ‘Move those legs.’

  ‘A pity you cannot summon a flame beastie,’ observed the dog-like creature, whose name seemed to be Blink. ‘A fair set of wings, those creatures have. Such as that could pick you up in his claws and carry you to the hiding place in a flash.’

  ‘Aye, a flash that would toast her like a bannock left too long in the fire,’ said Gentle. ‘Keep your good ideas to yourself and let the lassie do her best. It’s not far now.’

  Not far meant different things to different folk. Twice more, as we made our way across the difficult terrain and the clouds massed overhead, plunging us into near darkness, Silver called a halt so we could rest for a little, and Gentle gave me another dose of the cordial. Each time the draught brought new strength to my limbs and hope to my heart, but I could not fail to notice that each time the effects wore off more quickly. Weary and sore, I felt a flood of relief when a huge rocky outcrop loomed into view, its shape that of a wolf crouched to spring. I stood swaying, with Daw on my left and Gentle on my right.

  ‘Howler,’ Daw said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Howler. Howling Rock, some folk call it. This is our place. Follow Silver around and down.’

  I hesitated, watching as Silver skirted the flank of the great wolf, then disappeared as if by magic. ‘Are we going to . . . to another realm? I must be able to get back, I must be able to reach . . . the place where I’m headed.’

  ‘It’s no’ the Otherworld, lassie.’ Gentle grinned at me, flashing pearly teeth. ‘It’s a bolthole, that’s all. Anyone can step in here if he can find the place. Come, take my hand, I’ll lead ye in.’

  ‘Are you sure –’

  ‘Aye, we’re sure. This place, it’s a very useful cave, no more and no less. Come on now, you’re dead on your feet.’

  It was true. I had hardly another step left in me. I followed Gentle around the rock and into a narrow fissure concealed by creeping plants. Then there was a tunnel, dark as night, curving deep into the heart of the stone until it opened in a chamber illuminated from above by a small triangular aperture I guessed might be at the crown of the wolf’s head. The cave floor was soft earth. Gentle released my hand.

  ‘Sit down, Neryn,’ said Silver. It was an order, and I obeyed, swallowing tears of relief. Silver began rapping out a series of instructions. ‘Blink, fetch wood. Sheen,’ she addressed a flickering being of indeterminate form, ‘make fire. You boys,’ she pointed to a pair of sturdy-looking fellows who might almost have passed for unusually short human lads, ‘food. And make sure you don’t give Neryn anything she can’t safely eat. Daw?’

  The
two of them moved away to consult together. Then Daw left the cave, heading out into a deepening dusk, and the rest of the band went about transforming the place into a suitable shelter for the night. Silver came over to where I sat on the floor.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I never wanted to be a burden to you. Where did Daw go?’

  Silver sat down beside me, her gossamer garment falling into soft folds around her. One pale bare foot peeked out from the embroidered hem. She had walked the mountain track without any shoes. Gentle came to settle on my other side.

  ‘He went to spy on your pursuers,’ Silver said. When I stared at her in surprise, she added, ‘Daw is a bird-friend. He may fly over, or he may summon a crow to be his eyes. We do not use such skills unless we must. It taxes us.’

  Blink and some others were building the fire, using wood they dragged across from a corner. The flickering being stood ready to wake it to life.

  ‘They’ll see the smoke,’ I said. ‘The Enforcers.’ A moment later I recalled the fire Sage and Sorrel had made, which had burned hot and smokeless.

  ‘Our fire will not betray you,’ Silver said. ‘And our footsteps have been concealed. Only the most skilled of human trackers could find us here. We will stay in this place overnight, and we will not leave carelessly. You must eat, drink and rest. And we must talk.’

  That was certainly true: I had a hundred questions for them. Yet I could hardly set my mind to asking, with my heart still aching from Flint’s betrayal.

  ‘There are many farewells behind you,’ put in Gentle quietly. ‘And many ahead of you, Neryn. You will need to be strong.’

  I thought of tending to Grandmother; of the years on the road with Father; of the long, cold trip up the lochs to Summerfort. I remembered calling the stanie mon. I saw myself stepping out of the hut this morning and shutting the door behind me for the last time. ‘I am strong,’ I said.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  We were assembled inside Howler, all of us in a circle around a little glowing campfire. I was exhausted and sick at heart. I wanted to give in to my sadness, to curl up and grieve for the good friend I had thought I had, a rare, strong friend, who all the time had been my enemy. I stiffened my spine and ordered myself to set all that aside. Time was short and there were too many questions still unanswered.

  ‘Your help has been most welcome today,’ I said, framing my speech with some care. ‘I notice how you are all working together, even though you have some disagreements within your band. From what I’ve been told, that’s unusual for your kind. I’m hoping that means some of you do believe I am a Caller, or at least that I can be one, given the right teaching. I would like to know more about the use of such a gift. I know the old story of Corcan and the war between the Sea Folk and the brollachans. Corcan went off and undertook some training before he came back as a leader. Who would have taught him? I understand there may be some . . . special qualities . . . a person must demonstrate before starting that training.’

  This provoked a furious muttering around the circle, of which I could make out little except the familiar disputes about how many out of seven I might have shown already.

  ‘You mean the virtues,’ Silver said in her cool voice. ‘They’ll come out in you or they won’t. There’s no way to prepare save following your own path. What troubles me is that you were so ready to trust the warrior when the fellow reeks of the king’s evil. Would a Caller be so gullible, I ask myself.’

  I felt my face flush. ‘She might,’ I said, ‘if she didn’t know much about where she was going or how to get there, or about how to use her canny gift. From the start, Flint seemed to be helping me. The night we first met, he saved me from the Cull. When I thought he would hand me over to the king, he brought me up the valley to a place of hiding instead. When I was sick he looked after me. I don’t understand why he would do all that unless he was a friend. He could have sent me to the king that first night at Darkwater.’

  ‘No doubt he has his own ways, Enforcer ways, dark and devious. And yet you defend him. The man wears the king’s badge. He does the king’s will. Are you so much under his spell that I must repeat for you what we saw this morning?’

  ‘No,’ I said. The truth about Flint could not be as simple as the Good Folk seemed to think, but there was no doubt today’s betrayal made him my enemy again. ‘I believe you.’

  ‘As for why,’ said Daw, who had come in from his spying mission to report that the Enforcers had camped for the night down in the valley, ‘on that matter, we cannot agree amongst ourselves. Silver believes the fellow took you somewhere safe to fatten you up, to prepare his special gift for the king. I’m of the opinion that perhaps he wanted you to lead him somewhere. Some place where there are folk the king has a particular dislike for.’

  ‘Flint knew about that place already,’ I told them. ‘He said he knew where I was going and could help me get there.’

  ‘He’s a king’s man,’ Silver said. ‘He lied. What if I told you your black-cloaked friend has been sending messages up and down the valley, using a lad to carry them? Scrolls all tied up neat with cord and sealed with hot wax, the kind a man might despatch to his leader? According to our spies, one of those went off not long after the two of you reached what you call your place of hiding. I could guess what might have been in that message, and for whose eyes it might have been destined.’

  One blow after another. In my dream, Flint had been seated at our table, labouring with pen and parchment. Perhaps I had not dreamed it but seen it, half-waking. I imagined what might have been in that missive. There’s a change of plan; the girl is sick. When she is sufficiently recovered to travel, I will convey her to you. It still didn’t explain why he had brought me so far north.

  ‘Can you tell me, at least, whether Corcan had to show these virtues you mentioned? I realise you can’t tell me what they are. Sage gave me the same reply when I asked her.’

  ‘Oh, Sage,’ said Silver with a gesture of contempt. ‘She’d tell you whatever suited her purpose. But she was right on that score. A Caller must have all the virtues before he can begin to learn his craft. As to what those virtues are, if I told you, it would make little sense to you. They’re in an old rhyme.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Gentle, ‘a wee versie a mother might sing to her bairn at bedtime.’

  ‘It’s not so much the words themselves that make sense,’ said Daw. ‘It’s the sense a body chooses to make of them.’

  ‘Seven virtues, yes?’

  More muttering and whispering; more sidelong glances, mostly in Silver’s direction. Nobody was prepared to speak out. Perhaps she had already reprimanded them for letting me hear what should have been kept secret.

  ‘Silver,’ I ventured, ‘what would happen if I tried Calling before I had all the virtues? Before I’d been properly taught?’

  A silence. Then Silver said, ‘It would be like giving an infant a sharp knife to play with.’

  ‘Worse,’ said Gentle. ‘You might harm not only yourself, but scores of others along wi’ you.’

  ‘When I called the stanie mon, it did not do any harm that I know of.’

  ‘You were lucky,’ said Silver, her tone severe. ‘Don’t think to try it again. You’ve no inkling of its perils. Better that you had perished along with your family than that you use this gift unwisely.’

  That silenced me. The weight of my losses, the old ones, the newer ones, settled over me, a cloak of sadness.

  After some time, Gentle spoke quietly. ‘You havena done so badly, lassie. You’re on your way, and you have a good heart. And from what we heard, if you hadna used your gift that day wi’ the stanie mon, you wouldna be sitting here wi’ us now.’ Silver made to interrupt, but the little woman lifted her chin, defiance in her eyes. ‘You’ll find your true path forward, dinna doubt that.’ She stared at Silver, and Silver stared back, displeasure written all over her graceful form.

  I did not want to be the cause of dissent within their band. Bonds of friendship were rare enough. �
��I am hoping it won’t take too long,’ I said quietly. ‘Where we are headed, I’ll be much more useful if I’ve made a start on a Caller’s training, at least.’

  There was an odd silence, as if I had said something troubling.

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  Silver cleared her throat. ‘You say, where we are headed.’ Her voice had lost its combative note. She sounded almost apologetic. ‘We can come no further with you.’

  ‘But . . .’ I faltered, remembering the long cold nights, the lonely plodding days of my journey up the lochs. ‘I had thought . . .’ Once, twice, three times I had bid the Good Folk leave me to go on by myself so I would not lead them into danger. Now I wanted their company so badly it hurt.

  ‘We canna go on wi’ ye, lassie,’ said Gentle. ‘None of us here,’ she waved a hand around the motley circle of beings, ‘can pass the place ye call Lone Tarn. That’s the far edge of our Watch.’

  ‘Your Watch?’

  ‘Aye,’ said Gentle. ‘Past Lone Tarn, it’s the Watch o’ the North. We canna go up there, nor talk to those that bide there. It’s forbidden under the Old Laws.’

  I must have looked blank, for several voices chimed in with explanations, all speaking at once.

  Silver raised a hand for quiet. ‘The Laws of the Guardians, Neryn,’ she said, her tone telling me this was a matter of profound solemnity. ‘They divided up the land of Alban into four Watches. When the Guardians walked among us, in the old days, each dwelt in one Watch, and those who lived there looked to their Guardian for wisdom and guidance and the settlement of disputes. Now the Big Ones are gone away, but still we keep their laws. We cannot travel outside the borders of our own Watch. It’s forbidden.’

  ‘Tell me more about where they’ve gone,’ I said as I struggled to accept that tomorrow I would be on the road alone once again. ‘The Big Ones.’

  ‘’Twas your king, Keldec, that drove them away,’ said Gentle. ‘The Guardians came to this land long, long ago. They ruled over all of our kind, from sprites to brollachans to sea beasts, and for the most part their rule was wise. Then humankind came to Alban. Man wasna always cruel. But he could be thoughtless, heedless. There have been bright times and darker ones. This king, Keldec, is darkest of them all. He came wi’ cold iron and fell magic, and closed his fist around the heart of the old land.’ A shuddering sigh arose from the listening circle. ‘The Guardians went deep,’ Gentle said, ‘and the smaller folk, our folk, were set adrift. But still some of the old order held strong. The last of the Old Laws remained, and that was the rules of the Watch. We bide within our own Watch. We guard its borders; we tend to its heart and spirit; we keep the lore.’