Gwen frowned.
“There’s a message in human writing, too. On that wooden sign.”
“Really? What does it say? I hardly noticed it.”
“It says, ‘Over the void, to find.’ Mean anything to you?”
“Perhaps.” He pointed to a cluster of flowers above a drooping tendril to the right of the sign. “This says, ‘The castle of Lady Maeve.’”
Aidan chuckled behind Gwen.
“Those two queens were really trying to promote inter-species cooperation, weren’t they? You can’t read the entire message unless you know both Breenan and human writing.”
“Over the void, to find the castle of Lady Maeve,” Gwen said slowly. “Well, that’s clear enough.”
“The ‘what’ is clear, but what do we do about the ‘how?’” Rhiannon pointed past the cliff’s edge to the other side.
“That’s a little less clear,” Aidan said.
“Well, there’s only one way that I can see,” Tristan said. He pushed up his sleeves and walked to the edge of the cliff. “Let’s stop talking and start climbing. It’s a long way down and up again.”
Rhiannon rolled her eyes.
“Don’t be ridiculous. There are hardly any handholds, and the cliff is crumbling just to look at it. Even if we had a rope to get down, which we don’t, there’s no way we could climb up again.” She glanced sideways at Gwen and Aidan, as if to say that Rhiannon and Tristan might have a chance at climbing, but she and Aidan had no hope. Gwen privately agreed. Rhiannon said, “What about swimming around? It’s far, but we might have a better chance.”
“Assuming that monster was the only one,” Aidan said. “And that there’s another beach on that part of the island. And that we don’t freeze to death first.”
Rhiannon scowled, then brightened.
“What about flying? You said you could fly, back in the human world.”
Aidan and Gwen laughed.
“Not by ourselves,” Aidan said. “We need a machine for that.”
“Why isn’t there a way over?” Gwen said. “I guess this is another obstacle. What do they want from us?”
“They want us to work together, I reckon,” Aidan said. “The message was in Breenan and human, so we have to find a way over that uses the strengths of both.”
“Like the sea serpent—I figured out the pattern, Rhiannon and Tristan stabbed it.”
“So we’re the brain, they’re the brawn?”
“Hey,” Tristan said.
“No offense meant,” Aidan said. “So, how do we get across?”
“A bridge would be best,” Gwen said.
“Made of what? Metal is out, wood—a possibility, but difficult—rope, but we don’t have any.”
“Rope, yes! What about vines?”
“Indiana Jones-style?”
“We could twist together some vines, magic it across, and voila!”
“Perfect!” they said in unison, and turned to the other two. Tristan looked bewildered, and Rhiannon’s eyebrow was raised.
“Do we have a plan? I didn’t quite follow.”
“Pull down as many vines as you can find,” Gwen said. “We’ll twist them together into one big rope. Then you and Tristan can magic it across the canyon and tie it to a tree on the other side.”
“I’m not sure how to send it across the water,” Aidan said. “And then tying to the tree securely…”
“No problem,” Rhiannon said. “Leave that to us.”
Ivy was plentiful in the forest, and they soon collected great armfuls of it, glossy and dark green. Gwen grabbed six ends and braided them together, aided by Rhiannon who weaved new ends into the braid as the old ones finished. Aidan laid the rope out in a neat line and wrapped the end around the sign-tree. Tristan inspected the rope as it was made, and strengthened weak connections and Aidan’s knot with a wave of his hand. When they were finished, Tristan beckoned Rhiannon to his side.
“We’d better do this together. Make sure we have enough power to secure the knot on the other side.”
Rhiannon took both of Tristan’s hands in his, and they stared at the end of the ivy rope. It slowly twitched, then slithered like a green, rustling snake toward the edge of the cliff. Instead of tumbling off the edge, it traveled through the air along an invisible path. The canyon was so narrow and the cliffs so steep that the rope reached the opposite side in no time, and wrapped itself sinuously around the trunk of a sturdy-looking beech. Rhiannon and Tristan separated and Tristan looked pleased with himself.
“It’s ready. Who wants to take the maiden voyage?”
Gwen hadn’t considered this part of the plan in detail until now. The ivy rope was hardly a bridge. To cross to the other side, they would have to cling upside down and shuffle across on hooked knees. Her legs trembled with dread, but the bracelet hummed on her wrist.
“I will,” she said.
Tristan nodded in approval, and Aidan squeezed her hand. She secured the satchel more firmly on her back and swung herself up on the rope. She felt like a sloth creeping along a branch, and vowed to herself to move more quickly than one.
Hand over hand, knees shuffling behind, hands again—it wasn’t so bad until she passed over the cliff’s edge. Immediately, a sense of openness and distance hit her back, and stronger winds from the coming storm brushed past her face and made her hair dance. She froze for a moment, petrified, not daring to move, to look, to do anything. The bracelet hummed. She moved her hand incrementally, and then again.
“You’re doing lovely,” Aidan called out behind her. She gritted her teeth and brought her other hand forward, then each knee.
“Don’t think about it,” she said out loud. “Just keep going. Be the sloth. Be the quickest sloth ever.”
The rest of the journey was at once excruciatingly long and a blur. Air movements changed when she shuffled over the opposite cliff, but she didn’t let go until leafy branches waved above her and her hands hit the trunk of the beech. She unhooked her knees and collapsed to the ground in a heap. Her whole body trembled from exertion and adrenaline, and her head was woozy and light.
“You all right?” Aidan shouted. His voice sounded very distant through the roaring blood in her ears. She waved back, not trusting her voice to speak, and watched Rhiannon swing onto the rope and lightly traverse the chasm as if she climbed rope bridges in her spare time. Aidan followed, much more methodically and with plenty of white knuckles, and dropped beside Gwen. She grasped him in a fierce hug and he clutched her with shaking arms.
Tristan crawled across without incident and they sat on the ledge, with only their panting breaths to break the silence. Finally, Rhiannon spoke.
“Since we’ve stopped, we should eat. Who knows what obstacles are next? I’d prefer to meet them on a satisfied stomach.”
Gwen wasn’t sure she could eat, but by the time Rhiannon passed around dried meat and bread, dusty from rolling around in the satchel without a cloth cover, her stomach was growling. Breakfast on the beach had been at daybreak, and it was now a few hours past noon.
They tore into the food in rapturous silence. Gwen finished before the others and stared across the canyon. Her brain glazed over and she blissfully thought of nothing—no dying Isolde, no sick Bran, no monsters or cliffs or other dangers. Especially, no bracelet. Her mindlessness didn’t last for long.
“What are you thinking about, Gwen?” Tristan popped the last of the bread in his mouth and chewed. “It’s me, isn’t it?”
“Of course. How did you guess?” She smiled at Aidan to bring him in on the joke. He grinned back, pleased at the inclusion.
“Because Tristan thinks everyone is in love with him.” Rhiannon stood up and slung the satchel over her shoulder. “Come on, and bring the egomaniac. We need to keep moving.”
Aidan pulled Gwen to her feet and they followed Rhiannon and Tristan, who disappeared along a path away from the canyon. Gwen glanced at Aidan’s profile, wondering how else to bridge the gap between them. She wanted to make amends for th
e way she had been treating him recently.
“It’s too bad you didn’t bring your flute to the island. Not that we have time, but still. I’m looking forward to hearing you play more.” That was as much mention of the future as she could say without thinking of the bracelet and their as-yet unfinished quest, but Aidan’s face lit up.
“Really?”
“Yeah, of course. You’re so good, you’re going to be great in your courses when you start university. Top of the class, for sure.”
Aidan beamed.
“Oh, I doubt that. Classes will be full of child prodigies, and I’ll be the dunce in the corner.”
“Hardly.” Gwen ran her hand down Aidan’s arm to interlace her fingers with his. They smiled at each other. Connected, they continued down the path in the direction of their travel companions.
The incline was shallow, and the trees were thin enough that they could see some distance ahead. Rhiannon and Tristan had stopped to stare at another sign. When Gwen and Aidan approached them, still holding hands, the sign became clearer. A single word on a wooden placard was surrounded by a profusion of fiery orange honeysuckle blossoms.
Trust
“What do the flowers say?” Gwen asked.
“Trust,” Rhiannon replied. “That’s it.”
“Same here,” Aidan said. “That’s not very helpful. Even by cryptic Breenan standards.” He peered ahead. “Is there a fog rolling in, or are my eyes playing tricks on me?”
Gwen glanced ahead. Aidan wasn’t seeing things. A distinctly purplish haze formed a cloud directly in their path. It grew thicker by the second, eerily unaffected by the stiff breeze.
Tristan shrugged.
“Probably another obstacle. We made it past a sea serpent, let’s not worry about this. We can handle a little fog.”
He strode forward confidently. Hesitant, Gwen followed Aidan, and Rhiannon brought up the rear. As soon as she stepped into the cloud, Gwen’s world grew dim.
“What’s happening? Where’s the sun?”
“It’s too early for sundown,” Aidan said. His footsteps stumbled to a halt beside Gwen.
“What are you two talking about?” Tristan’s voice came from the front. “Nothing’s happened to the sun.”
“Am I going blind?” Gwen’s surroundings had turned into a world of shadows. Her companions were indistinct shapes next to her, and beyond them the forest faded into blankness. Panic lapped at the edge of her mind. She swallowed. She couldn’t afford to lose her nerve now. But if she were going blind… Her heart hammered in her chest.
“The fog must have done something,” Rhiannon said behind her, her voice calm and thoughtful. “Affected your vision. Tristan, we’ll have to lead them through. Hopefully they recover once we’re out of it.” Rhiannon’s firm hand gripped Gwen’s shoulder. “Come on, Gwen, walk forward. I’ll lead you. Trust me.”
“Trust,” Gwen whispered. “This is another test.”
“Looks like it. Lift your feet high, there are tree roots.”
Although Gwen could see the path directly in front of her feet, little was visible beyond. She was grateful for Rhiannon’s steady guidance, and walked with confidence. Tristan and Aidan’s passage was marked by stumbling footsteps ahead of them as well as the occasional muffled curse from Aidan and laugh from Tristan. Rhiannon was a patient leader, and Gwen grew more relaxed despite the rough terrain.
“What is that?” Rhiannon said a few minutes later.
“What?” Gwen was instantly on high alert. “What is it?”
“Daggers out, Rhiannon!” Tristan shouted. “Get down, Aidan.”
“What’s happening?” The terror of not knowing what was happening was ten times worse that seeing whatever it was. Dark shapes rocketed toward them through the air. Rhiannon pushed her down and grunted. A dagger soared above Gwen’s head. She screamed and covered her head with her hands.
Flapping sounds whooshed above and a strange bird shrieked, hugely magnified in Gwen’s ears. A few passes of the dagger sliced the air by her head. There was shrieking from above, more and more until the air was filled with the discordant music of attacking birds.
“Run!” Rhiannon shouted, and she hoisted Gwen up by her forearm and dragged her forward. Gwen tripped every second step, and it felt like her arm might dislocate from the force of Rhiannon hauling her upright. The shrieking was louder than ever, and black flapping shapes filled the air around them.
Then—silence. The birds vanished as if they had never been, and all Gwen could hear was the beating of her own heart and Rhiannon’s panting breath. Rhiannon stopped and twisted around.
“They’ve gone. Just—disappeared.”
Gwen blinked. Vertical lines bisected her vision through the fog. They gradually coalesced into the shapes of trees.
“Hey, I’m starting to see better!”
Rhiannon let her arm go. Gwen looked around with a squint until her focus sharpened. Aidan and Tristan stood before her, none the worse for wear. Aidan rubbed his eyes and Tristan sheathed his dagger.
“As I told you,” Tristan said. “We can handle a little fog.”
Gwen looked down the path, and her heart sank.
“That’s good,” she said to Tristan. “Because there’s more where that came from.”
A greenish haze filled the trees, only ten paces beyond where they stood. Gwen turned to Rhiannon.
“Can you take my other arm this time? I think my shoulder’s about to fall off.”
Rhiannon gave her a half-smile, and clamped her hand around Gwen’s opposite arm.
“Take out your dagger again, brother. We’re not done yet.”
Gwen squared her shoulders and they marched forward. She wasn’t looking forward to this, but Rhiannon had brought her through without mishap. She trusted the other girl now—Rhiannon’s characteristic calm was paired with patience and steely determination. It had kept them safe last time, and it would keep them safe again, Gwen knew.
They entered the green haze and Gwen braced for the inevitable mist. The trees surrounding her grew indistinct. Rhiannon’s firm grip on her arm became a tightening vise.
“It’s all dark,” she said, her voice high with a quaver at the end. “I can’t see.”
“Oh, great. Now we’re both half-blind.”
“Not half-blind. My eyes—there’s nothing. Only blackness. What will we do? We can’t—I have to fight off the birds—” Rhiannon’s panic bubbled under her words. Gwen looked at her unseeing eyes through the murk and frowned. Was this the same girl who was always so calm and collected? Had the loss of control unsettled her this badly?
“It’s okay, Rhiannon,” Gwen said. She reached over and pried the dagger out of Rhiannon’s clenched fingers. The other girl opened her hand slowly and unwillingly. “We’ll get through this. You can trust me. I’m not entirely useless, you know. I can see well enough to defend us.”
Rhiannon didn’t look convinced, and Gwen couldn’t blame her. The dagger felt foreign and heavy in her hand. The closest she’d ever come to knife work was in the kitchen. Somehow, that didn’t feel like enough preparation.
“Lift your feet high,” Gwen said. She eyed the path as best as she could through the fog. Only an occasional root protruded from the hard-packed soil, but she knew from experience that occasional was far too often when one couldn’t see. Rhiannon cautiously placed each foot in front of the other, guided by Gwen.
Tristan and Aidan were in the same predicament, although Tristan’s footsteps were more confident than Rhiannon’s.
“Keep your eyes to the skies,” he said to Aidan. “And hold that dagger at the ready. Remember—slice, don’t stab.”
“All right,” Aidan said. He turned to peer at Gwen through the gloom despite standing almost at arm’s reach. “How are you faring back there?”
“We’re coming,” she said. “Slowly but surely.”
After a few minutes of their stumbling gait, the terrain changed from soil and tree roots to a multitude of jagged
rocks strewn haphazardly on the path. Rhiannon stumbled again and again, and Gwen kept up a running commentary about where to place her feet.
“Oh no,” Aidan said. Gwen’s heart stuttered, and Rhiannon’s hand almost cut off the circulation in Gwen’s arm.
“What’s happening?” she said, her voice an octave higher than usual. “Are the birds coming?”
Beyond Aidan, long brown shapes slithered in the dim. It was hard to tell through the haze, but they moved sinuously around rocks and over roots toward the four.
“It’s okay, Rhiannon. No birds. Snakes instead, but they look pretty small. Keep walking.”
“No. Don’t let down your guard. They’ll attack.”
“Okay.” Gwen patted Rhiannon’s hand. Aidan yelled.
“Argh! It leaped at me!”
A splatter of blood stained the rocks nearest Aidan, where one of the snakes writhed with a deep gash along its side. The other snakes lifted their heads. One by one, each wide mouth opened to show a set of wickedly sharp fangs and a flickering tongue.
Gwen gripped her dagger in her shaking hand. The snakes were going to attack. Was she ready for them?
“Keep moving forward,” Tristan bellowed. “We need to get out of this fog!”
“Come on, Rhiannon,” Gwen said. “Just stay close, and I’ll keep the snakes away.”
Rhiannon seemed past speech at this point. Her blue eyes darted sightlessly in every direction. Gwen pulled her forward and Rhiannon stumbled behind. The snakes closed in.
One leaped at Aidan, but Gwen didn’t see the outcome before another slithered her way. Its open mouth displayed the full extent of its fangs, and its eyes glistened cruelly. Gwen didn’t have time to think, only to react. She sliced the dagger in a shallow arc to greet the oncoming serpent. To her surprise, the dagger made contact. The snake hissed and darted away. Blood dribbled from a wound on its side.
Gwen couldn’t watch it go because another snake was right behind the first. She slashed again and missed. The creature jerked to the left and brushed Rhiannon’s leg.
Rhiannon screamed and released Gwen’s arm. She stumbled in a wild panic past Aidan and Tristan.
“No, Rhiannon! Come back!” Gwen slashed at another snake, blade meeting flank in a spray of red blood, and kicked another aside in her pursuit of Rhiannon. The other girl was swift and nimble, but even she couldn’t avoid roots she couldn’t see. Before long, she tripped headfirst, sprawled on her front along the path. Within seconds, two snakes slid onto her legs.
Breenan Series Box Set Page 40