by Tam Erskine
"You could ask her . . . tell her how lost you are without protection. How you miss me." He slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. With his free hand he signaled the sentry that stepped forward as they neared the border of the village. "You are, right? Lost without me?"
Daisy thought about crossing the tunnel--the Twitches screeching, Jack's wound from saving her and her sisters, the terrible tiredness in Ivy's voice. She shivered. "I don't think there's much chance of succeeding. The Hunt rides for the slightest thing these days. The Queen Mother either has no grasp on the folk's suffering or no longer cares. Just getting this far has been awful."
Hagan stopped and stared at her, serious and not hiding it for a change. "So, stay here. Instead of me going, you stay."
Daisy looked at him. She'd known Hagan longer than she'd known most anyone in the realm. Most of the Bollynoggins had barely tolerated her and her sisters when they first came to stay with Grandmother Nogs, but even then, Hagan had been different. He'd taught her how to find her way over the swamp trails. He taught her how to defend herself--against swamp rats and against his rough and tumble brothers.
"Daisy?" He hugged her to him. "You're scaring me."
"You need to stay here." She rested her head on his chest and fought the urge to weep as she told him, "If you come . . . the Queen will believe Grandmother Nogs is treasonous. In an instant she could boil the swamp, dry it up. There's no way to keep everyone here safe . . . Not to mention the Hunt or letting the Durgs out of the castle."
"And if you go?"
"If she goes, it's her choice alone." Jonquil stepped from the thicket with as little sound as the Bog Mother. "She can stay here. You can make her stay if you have it in you, Hagan. Matty too."
"He can keep me here? Really?" Daisy stepped back from Hagan and glared at her sister. "And how would he do that?"
She felt Hagan tense.
"By explaining how much safer you'd be here," he muttered.
Daisy ignored him, her temper finally simmering. She'd put up with enough from her sisters. "What happened to the comforting things you told Clematis? What about your refusal to go to Uncle Con's and wait it out?"
Jonquil shrugged.
Daisy started walking towards her sister. "If Ivy's successful . . ."
"And if she's not?" Grandmother Nogs' voice interrupted as she stepped into view. "Do you truly think the Queen's power can be undone by Ivy's mortal? Jonquil is right about this, Daisy: it's wiser for you and Matty to stay here." She glanced quickly at Jonquil, scowling. "It'd be wiser still for Jonquil to stay, but she's been bucking for a rebellion too long now for me to think she'd stay."
"What are you talking about?" Daisy sputtered.
Bucking for rebellion?
She looked from the Bog Mother to Clematis, who stood beside her--longbow in hand. Clematis was watching Jonquil, not looking at all shocked by the sheer ridiculousness of the Bog Mother's comment.
"I'll do it." Jonquil turned around, her expression terrifyingly desperate. "I'll mind the swamp, give up my wings, whatever you'll have of me." She stepped up to the Bog Mother and knelt on the ground before her. Peering up at Grandmother Nogs, she said, "Help us do this and afterwards I'll do whatever you'll have of me. I'll take care of the boys . . . better now than I could've before. Jack Merry gave me a healing touch. I'll care for all of them. You can retire. Stay here. Go. Whatever you want."
For several minutes, the only sounds were the calls of wiskins and a few frogs as they meandered through the hidden passageways on the bank. Daisy looked away from Jonquil to Clematis, to Hagan, to the Bollynoggins and the bodyguards. They all looked as shocked as she felt. Only Grandmother Nogs looked nonplussed by Jonquil's outburst.
Jonquil hadn't moved. She stayed, kneeling on the ground.
Grandmother Nogs sighed. "I can't, Jonquil. I can't send my boys there. I'll keep your sisters here and keep them safe, but that's all I can offer you." She reached out and laid her hand on Jonquil's cheek. "If you survive, you're welcome here. If you wanted to mind the swamp, I'd gladly accept it. I shouldn't have asked it of you, not like that at least. If you don't want it, just come back and stay with us."
Jonquil nodded, but the look on her face was awful to see. She looked broken and lost.
No one spoke. Clematis looked at her, looking almost as lost as Jonquil.
Daisy took a deep breath and said, "I'd rather go."
Clematis nodded. "Me, too."
Jonquil turned to face her, and Daisy held out a hand to help her to her feet. Clematis came to stand on the other side of Jonquil. She brushed a hand over Jonquil's tear-wet cheek.
"But someone has a lot of explaining to do . . ." Daisy added with a scowl at Jonquil. Her motherly sister was a revolutionary.
Chapter 12: In which they may have an ally
Ivy held her sword at ready and spread her feet a little for better balance. The Glaistigs were some of the finest fighters in the realm. When she was a girl, she and Clematis used to make up tales of what would happen if the Glaistigs battled the Red-Caps or stood against the Hunt. Clematis always argued that the Red-Caps would win, while Ivy'd argued for the Glaistigs. Now, as she looked at them surrounding her, she hoped she'd been wrong about their being undefeatable.
"Do you think that's wise, Princess Lillian?" Sezja's voice had as much humor as warning in it.
"I'm not seeing too many choices, Matriarch Sezja." Ivy glanced at the Glaistigs. Not a one had moved. Several of the young ones had their hands on dark hilts, but the blades were still safely sheathed. "I'm not going to stay here, and going back above-ground isn't a choice."
Ivy glanced at Jack. "Take a look around. Picture it, Jack." She tore her gaze from his and looked pointedly at the stalactites and then back at him. They'd make a good weapon or, at the very least, a barricade. "I'm not sure how many I can fight."
Ilanya—one of the younger ones--spoke up, "We're not your enemies. We carried you here in our arms, risked our safety for you."
Though the younger Glaistig hadn't asked permission, Sezja was letting her speak.
Ignoring Ilanya, Ivy took a deep breath and concentrated on keeping as many of the Glaistigs in sight as she could. She turned slightly from side-to-side as she waited, trying to see those that stood on each side as well as those in front of her. As to those behind them--listening for movement was the best she could do.
For now, at least.
The chances of getting out of the cave unharmed weren't good.
Ilanya spoke again. "Do you think we'd have rescued you only to harm you?"
"Perhaps." Then, for a moment, Ivy wavered.
Would they've done so?
She knew so little of the Glaistigs; they'd kept to themselves for as long as she could recall.
Why did they rescue us? Were we even in danger?
She was tired. Those few hours of rest had done little to offset the exhaustion of emotional upheaval and physical exertion. They had one day left to face the Queen, one day to try and change the realm. Three days was all Jack could have here, longer than that and too much time would have passed above-ground. That had been the rule back when mortals were allowed in the realm, and Ivy truly hoped to adhere to it. If they caused too much of a stir aboveground, there'd be a whole new set of troubles to answer for.
"So, what do you want?" Jack stepped up and gripped her arm lightly, stilling her.
She felt her body tense. Find an answer, Jack Merry, Ivy silently willed. Please.
But no one answered. The women just turned to Sezja.
Sezja remained silent for several heartbeats. Then, finally, the Matriarch said, "We want peace, mortal. Peace for the Queen, peace for the realm, but there are those that would be a terror to the realm if you are injured. We cannot allow that if we could stop it."
"Who?" He sounded lost when he asked.
Ivy knew he was thinking about Sezja's earlier reference to his parents. Briefly, she wondered if the Glaistigs did know something
.
Sezja shook her head. "It's not ours to answer, and the Princess knows not. There are forces that aren't as mighty as the Queen, but still are forces to fear. If we send you back, the realm stays as it is, but if you are wounded . . ." She shrugged. "It is not my wish to set that into motion."
Ivy caught the Matriarch's look of pain.
Maybe she was sincere.
Ivy couldn't tell with the Glaistigs. "If he goes back, there's nothing to keep us from returning, but it'd be more difficult to do so . . . more dangerous. If you truly want to keep him safe, sending him above-ground isn't the way."
Ilanya bowed to the Matriarch before suggesting, "If we spoke to them, those forces, told them that we'd tried . . . that the choice was not within our ability to sway."
"Would you do that, mortal? Come back here?" Sezja folded her hands together and pursed her lips.
"I would." Jack's voice didn't waver. "I gave my word to Ivy. I've seen the poisonous slime in the water, the fear in creatures' eyes. If you send us back, we'll just keep trying."
Ivy was sure Jack was as exhausted as she was, but he spoke as cleverly as he'd done with the Red-Caps and with the hound.
Maybe we can leave without bloodshed.
Again, the silence dragged on.
"Well, then, I suppose we should find you pallets so you can rest a bit. You'll need your energy if you're to have any chance at all." Sezja sighed and motioned for the Glaistigs to disperse. "We shall have to hope that our explanation is greeted with tolerance."
"If I may . . ." Ilanya murmured, stepped forward again. "Perhaps we could assist them. Assure that they are kept safe. Mightn't that assuage the fears of the concerned parties?"
"A wise answer." Sezja flicked her braid back over her shoulder where it drooped between those two jutting hilts. "We shall meet them at the Queen's palace. First, we must speak to those concerned parties. I'll make ready to address that matter. Ilanya, find them food and pallets."
And with that, Sezja departed.
Ilanya motioned to another dark passageway. "There are quiet rooms back here. Rest a while, then I'll take you to the path so you can rejoin the Ellyllon."
Jack started, staring at the grinning Glaistig. "How did you know?"
Ilanya laughed, and it was not a soothing sound at all. "Word of their progress was brought to Matriarch Sezja before we met. We'll catch them at the ravine."
Ivy began to wonder what force could frighten the Glaistigs.
Few things are worse than they are, if even the tamest rumours were true.
They slid through a narrow passage into another cavern, Ivy saw the pallets and thick furs on the floor, and she stopped wondering about everything. She all but collapsed onto the crude bed. Her tension slipped away and, with it, consciousness.
Two egrets stood ready. Hagan, Calder, and a third guard waited on the first egret. The second one had six more fully armed guards.
"We'll send them right back," Jonquil murmured to Grandmother Nogs. She didn't beg, didn't ask the Bog Mother to re-consider. She wanted to, but she didn't.
The Bog Mother nodded. "I know."
She hugged all three of them and then turned to stare out at the wiskins peeking their still-wet faces out from among the dense swamp grass.
As they climbed aboard the egret to leave the swamp, Clematis was uncharacteristically quiet. Once they lifted off, she waved at Grandmother Nogs; then she just stared over the swamp.
Jonquil didn't feel much more cheerful than Clematis looked. It was a far cry from the way she'd felt when they'd arrived.
What will we do now?
She closed her eyes to contain her tears of frustration.
Behind her, she heard Daisy still trying to explain her choice to Hagan. "Ivy and Jack are doing the right thing. I've been with her, looking out for her so long. I can't leave her . . ."
"It's the right choice. I just want to stay with you." His voice was rough, pleading. "Say the word."
Jonquil'd worked for so long at convincing Grandmother Nogs that she had been almost certain that the support would be there when the need arose. Jonquil wiped away her tears: they wouldn't help. Everyone wanted things to be right again, but convincing them to risk their own safety was a different matter altogether.
After the scores of meetings, I should've known better.
"Do you think they've passed Pwca Vale?" Hagan asked, voice somber. "Or should we stop?"
Jonquil looked down. There was no sign of the horse outside Jorge's inn. It might not be a guaranteed safe spot, but it was the best of the lot. Odds were that Ivy wouldn't have taken Jack to any of the other inns. "I suppose they got an earlier start."
Calder and the other guard stood back-to-back, eyes to the sky, bows held at ready--as if extra vigilance now would make up for the lack of back-up later.
She wondered if Ivy and Jack had run in to trouble at Pwca Vale. By now, half the realm surely knew of Ivy's breaking the geas. Word of change spread faster that fireworms in a dry field.
"Keep going." Daisy squeezed Hagan's arm. "If we don't see them, we'll wait at the far side of the ravine."
Hagan nodded, and they all resumed their silence.
Jack sat on the floor, eating the strange blue meat that Ilanya had left for them. Across from him, Ivy slept in a nest of furs, either unaware of how damp the cave was or too tired to care.
He sat there, watching her sleep and listening to the steady chime of bells. He could hear them all the time now, like a song that never ends, but they were solid and deep as they tolled. If he wasn't so afraid of what that meant, he'd ask Ivy. If it were bad news, he'd rather neither of them knew.
Leaning back against the wall, he watched water trickle along a seam between long sheets of rock and pour through a crevice into a river somewhere beneath them. He couldn't see it, but he heard it--rushing away into some undoubtedly beautiful and terrifying corner of the realm.
Ivy mumbled in her sleep.
Briefly, he glanced at her; then he returned to watching that stream of water and listened to the tolling bells until his eyes grew heavier and drifted shut.
Clematis watched the path. She'd given up on pretending not to panic. It hadn't convinced anyone.
"Do you think they're injured?" Jonquil murmured from the branch above her, sounding far less sure of herself since they'd left the bog.
"No." Clematis reached into the pile of food Daisy had dumped beside her earlier and plucked out a nut. "I just wish they'd get here."
"Are you angry with me?"
"Not really." Clematis picked up another nut and whacked the two together, splintering the shells so she could pick out the meat. "Think you should've told us though."
"I didn't want to upset Daisy."
Clematis snorted. "So that's why you didn't tell me?"
At first, Daisy didn't answer. Clematis could hear her get up and start pacing on the branch above. She cracked another pair of nuts and waited. It was a rare treat to be the sister who deserved the explanation rather than one who owed it.
"No. At first I didn't tell you because I was afraid of what you'd do." Jonquil was still pacing, her footsteps quick and steady. Every so often leaves would flutter by as Jonquil stomped or spun too suddenly.
"And?"
"And then I hadn't told you for so long it was a matter of admitting I'd kept a secret--and a big secret at that." Jonquil floated down to sit next to her. "You and Daisy always seem to think all I cared about was tending animals. How was I to say I wanted to change the realm?"
Clematis stared at her. Daisy was great for lectures and reminding everyone what the rules were, and Jonquil had always been the one to know what to say if things were uncomfortable. Finding herself in the position of needing to find the right words for Jonquil was a new experience. She took her sisters' hands and said, "Next time you decide to do something ridiculously brave, I'd rather hear about it from you than someone else."
"I will." Jonquil nodded and pulled a berry from th
e pile of food. She paused, fruit halfway to her mouth, and said softly, "Do you think Daisy's still angry?"
Grinning, Clematis pointed to the nest where Hagan and Daisy sat sharing their meal. "For now, she's distracted. Later, well, from now on really . . . you can count on her mentioning it when you irritate her. You'll get used to it."
As they went around the corner, Jack half expected the ground to crumble away. When Ilanya said 'ravine' she forgot to mention how far down it went. Sheer rock walls dropped below them like they'd reached the edge of the world. A trail, little more than the width of the water-horse's steps, wrapped slowly down into that seemingly never-ending depth, and Jack wondered yet again at the sheer variety of the realm.
"We used to throw intruders off this ledge." Ilanya broke into his reverie, her voice soft with an almost nostalgic tone. "You could hear their screams echo through the gorge."
"Oh." Jack wasn't quite sure what the appropriate response was or if there was one.
"Sometimes when I was still little, we'd go above-ground and seek out the most horrible mortals we could find so we could toss them over." She made a little noise, like a purr almost.
"I see."
She laughed, a curiously beautiful sound considering the conversation. "Really, you should've seen it. We'd wait in the rivers, dragging them under until they stopped thrashing, then we'd bring them home and nurse them back to health. Once they were fit, we'd bring them to the ravine and push," she made a slight shoving gesture with her hand, "there they went, flailing and kicking."
"Ilanya?" Ivy interrupted.
"Umm?" The Glaistig was prancing along the narrow passageway with as much grace as the Ellyllon had in flight. Her hooves were obviously far more suited to the uneven terrain than Jack or Ivy's feet.
Ivy was watching the ground at her feet as she walked. "I do believe that you're startling Jack just a bit."
Jack grimaced.
Ilanya looked at him, eyes wide. "Truly?"