“Outside your cell. These walls are thick, but sound penetrates them well enough. So I had the pleasure of hearing your wailing.”
The person does a humph and then I know who it is.
“Maistreas Eilionoir!” I shout. I cannot believe it. “It’s me, Agatha!”
“I’m well aware of that, my dear.”
“We thought you were d-dead! We saw all your heads that were spinning,” I say. It was horrible to see.
“That was the other elders — caidil du bràth — and the seventh was one of the Moths. She had already fallen, so I placed my elder chain around her neck to fool the deamhain. How did you get here? I thought you were dead.”
“I came on a sh-ship with the Mad Queen but she’s not really mad and J-Jaime and the bull people helped us because I had to stop the wildwolves and I rode all the time and the — the shadow things went but that — it wasn’t the plan and when I screamed I couldn’t — the king killed him and we were trying to — he was a nasty one and we came but they grabbed us and I can’t find the door I — I— ”
“Shush your mouth! Stop that. How do you expect me to understand when you speak such garbled nonsense?”
I knew it was coming out wrong but I couldn’t stop it. It happens like that sometimes.
“Now, tell me again how you came to be here. And this time slow down and speak properly.”
I tell her everything and I say it slower and in the right way.
“Sounds like you’ve had quite an adventure,” she says when I have finished.
“We came to — rescue you,” I say.
“I always knew there was more to you than meets the eye,” she says.
“Where is everyone else?” I ask.
“Our people are slaves here, Agatha. And it’s not just us; the king has enslaved thousands of people from many different places and is forcing them to carve out the mountain behind this one. It is to be a temple — the greatest the world has ever seen — all in honor of his wretched god. The deamhan are victims of their own made-up stories, which the king uses to manipulate his subjects and increase his power. Every day, more and more people die from exhaustion and disease. It is dreadful to behold.”
It is not right. The king is a very bad man.
“W-why are you here and not in the other — mountain?” I ask.
“They do not know that I am alive. The whole time we were traveling across the sea, I pretended to be a helpless old crone — which I suppose is not that far from the truth. . . . Then I collapsed during our first work shift and pretended to be dead. They dumped my body in a pit containing hundreds of bodies — not a smell I’m going to forget in a hurry — and left me to rot. I have been hiding in the tunnels ever since, stealing food to feed the prisoners, keeping their hope alive, waiting for the right moment. And now you have arrived. This is our chance. Tell me more about the power you have harnessed.”
“Uh?” I say, which is because I don’t understand.
“I may be all rags and bones and filthy as slush mud, but I am still your elder. Do not make uncouth guttural sounds at me.”
“What did you m-mean, though?” I ask.
“Tell me more about what you can do. About the animals you can control.”
I knew she would ask me that. I didn’t say it all before because it makes me sad to think it.
“I can’t — I can’t do it anymore,” I say.
“What do you mean you can’t do it?”
“It went away after the w-wildwolves. When I screamed in the tree all the wolves in my head made me go black and I f-fell out of the tree. After that it wouldn’t do it anymore.”
“Hmmm,” she says. She doesn’t say anything for a little bit and then she says, “As you know, the elders do not encourage the practice of such things, so my knowledge is limited. I do know, however, that it is not a skill that can be taught, so I do not believe it is one that can be lost. You were born with the ability; it is part of what makes you who you are. Trauma may have blocked it, but that does not necessarily mean it has gone away forever.”
That is a good thing! It means maybe I will do it again.
“How do I do it again?” I ask.
There are footsteps coming.
“I have to go,” says Maistreas Eilionoir, “but I’ll come back. Think about what I have said. You’ve come this far; don’t give up now.”
I do not want her to go. The footsteps stop and there is talking I cannot hear. Then the footsteps go away again.
Now there is no sound.
“Maistreas Eilionoir?” I ask. “Are you still there?”
She does not reply so she is gone. I am alone again.
Could it really be true what she said? I wished she could have said some more. I also wanted to say to her why Knútr said that I am a foreign person like him. It is not true. I am not like him.
I take Milkwort out and hold him close to my face. It is so dark I can’t even see him. Maistreas Eilionoir says maybe I can still do it so I try. Milkwort, I say in my head. Milkwort? I say it again and again and again, but it is no good. Maistreas Eilionoir is wrong. I will never do it again. My eyes are crying because I am sad and I can’t even stop them.
I wait for Maistreas Eilionoir to come back but she doesn’t come back. I do not want to be here anymore. I want to be in the enclave which is my home and I wish none of this ever even happened.
THE NEXT TIME THE STEPS COME THEY OPEN MY DOOR. IT is so bright I cannot see and then I can. There are three deamhain there. One looks like Knútr but it is not him because he is dead. The other two ones are women ones and they have long axes.
“Come with us,” says the man deamhan. “Do not struggle or we will hurt you.”
I do not want to be hurt and there is too many of them to get past them with their axes anyway so I have to do it what he says. They pull my hands behind my back and it hurts and I say “Ow!” but they don’t say sorry. Then they put something on my head and I can’t see again.
“I don’t like it,” I say. “I want to see. Take it off my head please.” But they don’t take it off because they are mean.
It is hard to walk when you can’t see anything. I only know where to walk because one of them squeezes my arm too tight and makes me go which way by pushing me. We go a long way. When they take off what it is on my head I can see again now and I know where we are. We are in the big mountain room where we were before. It is darker because it is night now so it is only the blue fires that make the light. The two deamhain holding me make me climb up eight steps and I know it is eight because I count them. Now I am on a new bit that wasn’t there before. It is in the middle and made higher. The shape is a square and there is blue fire in the corners. I can see everything from where I am on top. The king with his antler head is sat on his big chair. There are even more deamhain than the last time. Too many for me to count them. Maybe it is all of them in the whole world.
Someone else comes up the steps and it is Jaime with two more deamhain who are holding him. When they take his hood off he can see me. He looks at me but he doesn’t say anything. He is sad, I know it. The deamhain holding him make him stand on the other side of me.
We are going to be killed. That is why we are here. I try to think of a plan so that we won’t be. I cannot think of one. It is too hard when they are holding me so tight and there is so many people looking at me.
There is screaming from a person which is the loudest I ever heard. I can’t see who is doing the screaming. It looks like the ceiling is falling down but it is not. It is the bats who don’t like the screaming so they fly down and are making lots of noise. It is the Queen Nathara who is doing the screaming. They bring her onto the platform next to me.
“Off! Off!” she shouts at them. “It never rains but it pours, and then you’ll be sorry you were ever born.”
One of the deamhain pulls the hood off her head and she smashes her face into his. Crack! It is a big one. The deamhan falls down and his head bleeds where she did it.
The other deamhan slaps her on her face. It is very hard.
“Leave her alone!” I say.
The deamhan spits next to my feet. “You will be next,” he says.
The Queen Nathara does not scream anymore. She looks at me and says, “Agatha.” Her eyes are wet because of some tears.
“Yes, Queen Nathara,” I say. “It’s me.”
“I do not like it here,” she says.
“It’s okay,” I say, which is a lie because it is not okay. I only say it to try and make her happy.
She is on one side of me and Jaime is on the other. Two deamhain are holding each of us on our arms. They hold our arms so tight that we can’t go anywhere because we are trapped. The king with the antlers on his head stands up and everyone is quiet.
“Welcome back,” he says to us. “I trust you had an enjoyable day?”
“No,” I say. “It was dark and boring.”
The king laughs and so do some of the others. “It was a rhetorical question,” he says, which I don’t even know what that means or care. “Before we proceed, there are a few guests missing. Lergjað fangir ina!”
More deamhain come in and they are with people in chains and it is Lenox and other people who are my clan and Flora as well.
“Jaime!” shouts a girl. She is from our clan and an Angler.
Jaime does a breathe in.
“Aileen,” he says. “I tried — I— ”
“Silence!” shouts the king. “I have brought a select few of you here to witness the execution of your would-be rescuers. I want you to know that they attempted to save you, and to witness how unsuccessful that rescue attempt was. Let this be the end of all hope for you, and a lesson that this is what to expect should any of you try to cross me in the future. Accept your fate with honor, as húskarda of Øden, the One True God. His will be done.”
“You’re insane,” shouts Jaime. The king looks at him angry. Jaime keeps talking. “Stop hiding behind your ‘god’ and accept that you are committing murder for nothing more than to feed your disgusting ego.”
“Kill the boy last,” says the king, and he sits down. “And make it slow.”
Someone walks up the steps with a clunk clunk and when they come up it is a deamhan with a very long sword that is rusty. It is the sword that is doing the clunking. The deamhan man is old. His eyes are under lots of lines so I can hardly even see them.
“For the attempted murder of a prince of Norveg; for attempting to blackmail His Supremacy the king; for attempting to liberate the servants of Our Lord; and for blaspheming against the One True God within the Hollow Mountain. Of these crimes you are found guilty, or guilty by association, and are hereby sentenced to death. In the name of Øden — may he always guide us. Má hann dafjan oss visájr.”
“Má hann dafjan oss visájr!” shout all of the deamhain, and they hit their chests and chant something that’s like “Dud, dud, dud, dud.”
The old deamhan with the eyes that I cannot see stands in front of the Nice Queen Nathara and lifts the sword above his head. I try to move but I can’t. I need to think of a clever plan and I wish I could think of one.
“Død! Død! Død! Død!”
“I don’t think Mummy and Daddy are here,” says the Queen Nathara.
The sword deamhan swings the sword above his head once and twice and I can only watch it with my eyes and do nothing to stop it. He pulls it back but before he can use it the Queen Nathara twists her body and bites one of the deamhain holding her on his shoulder so hard. The deamhan shouts loud and lets go of her. She tries to get free but there is still one more deamhan holding her. She turns her head to bite him too but he won’t let her. The sword deamhan goes to stab her with his sword. The Queen Nathara leans back and lifts her legs up and kicks the sword on its side with her feet. The deamhan with the sword stumbles over. I think he’s going to drop it but he doesn’t. He grips it harder and swings it around and he is too quick this time. Before the Nice Queen Nathara can kick again he pushes the sword into her. It goes all the way through and out the other side. She screams even louder than before and the deamhain roar louder and the king is smiling. There is too much in my head that is anger and sad and hate and there is no room for it all. The white bats are flying around so mad with the noise. I am screaming too. I do not want it to be happening.
There is another sound I know. It is a horrible one and it’s at the top of the mountain room. The shadow things. They have come back. They heard it when the Queen Nathara screamed is what I think. They want to come in through the windows but they can’t because of all the fire.
The deamhan pulls the rusty sword out of the Queen Nathara. Her head is down. The sword deamhan wipes off the blood from the sword with his arm.
I am not scared. I will die brave. I look at Jaime and show him I am brave. Then I look at Flora and Lenox and the others to show them I am brave too. The sword deamhan has finished cleaning the sword and moves next to me.
There is pushing and shouting in the deamhain. Someone is there who is trying to get past. The cloak falls off her head and it is Maistreas Eilionoir! Why is she there? Run away or they will get you! They are grabbing her now. She throws something onto the platform. It lands by my feet and goes all around. The deamhain grab her tight.
“Agatha!” she shouts, and she is looking at me. “It is within you. You are stronger than them all.”
She tries to pull away but they are holding her too hard.
“Get your grubby hands off me, you filthy— ” One of the deamhain hits his elbow into her head and she goes knocked out so she can’t talk anymore. The deamhain drag her away.
I look at the floor and look down harder to see what Maistreas Eilionoir threw at me. It is all around my feet. It is seeds. What? Seeds cannot help us.
Oh. Oh. I know why the seeds. She threw them to remind me. About when I had to sort the seeds and not be angry. And then I know it. I don’t know how I know it but I do. It is the angry that made my head break. When I was in the tree, all the wildwolves were in my head and they were the most angry ever because they hated the screaming and I was so angry too because I hated it all and it wasn’t fair. All of the angry together made inside my head go black and that is why I couldn’t do the talking after. I can still feel the angry. The wildwolves’ angry is still inside me. If I can make it go away maybe I can do the talking to the animals again.
I close my eyes so I cannot see the antler king who I hate or the other deamhain. It is easier if I cannot see them. I know what I have to do. I do a big breath in and think about the place inside my head where the wildwolves were, then I breathe out and try to make their angry go away. It is hard to do it. I try again. And one more time again. Please come on let it work. The next time is my biggest yet. There is something like water in my head that is a little trickle and then it is more and then it is a big river going fast inside. It feels different again now.
I open my eyes. The sword deamhan raises the sword above his head. I need to be so quick. Hey, I call to the white bats that are flying near me, and then I say, Excuse me, because it is manners. I say it to all the bats because there are so many of them and they are going too fast to say it only to one. Their voices fill my head. I can hear them!
I need your help! I shout. They hate the deamhain as much as I do, I can hear it. But there is not enough time. The sword goes in a circle once and then twice. He is going to kill me, I tell them. The deamhan lowers the sword and he is going to put it into my middle, just like he did to the Queen Nathara.
One of the white bats comes down from above and lands on the sword deamhan’s head and grabs on his horrible hair with its claws.
Yes, yes! Thank you, yes! I say. Then other ones are landing on him too and pulling at him and flying in his face. He tries to get them with the sword but they are too fast for it. He goes backward and waves his arms and he does not know the edge is there and he falls off.
I thank all the bats because they made me not get stabbed with
the sword. The deamhain cannot believe what happened and they do not know why. Now I have another plan and it is a clever one. It is my best plan ever. The only thing that is not clever is that it means I will be dead. But I have to do it. For Jaime who is my friend and for my clan to be rescued.
“Put out all the fires!” I shout, and then I remember that I need to say it in my head so I say it in my head loud so all the bats can hear me. My head is going to hurt again to say it to so many but I have to do it because it is the plan. Help us and you can have this mountain, I tell them. It is what they want.
The white bats are talking to each other with so much screeching. They decide they will do it. They are scared of the fire but they will do it. They knock the torches off the walls and start to blow out the lanterns by using their wings. The blue fires are going and the mountain room gets darker. The deamhain are still holding me but it is not tight anymore. They are watching the bats and cannot even believe it. The one holding the Queen Nathara drops her and leaves the platform to try and stop the bats. One of the fires on the platform goes out. The Queen Nathara is on the floor and she is not moving.
Milkwort, can you hear me? I ask him, and he can! It makes me so happy to do it. I tell him he needs to leave the mountain room so quickly and find somewhere to hide. He understands and climbs out of my pocket. There is no time to say goodbye. He runs down my leg and off the platform. Please let the deamhain not step on him.
At the top the horrible noise is louder. It is my plan and it is working. The fires are going out so the shadow things can come in. They come all down the walls to get the deamhain. They want to tear them all apart.
And they want to do the same to me.
SGÀILEAN POUR DOWN THE WALLS LIKE A DARK WATERFALL. The first wave hits the deamhain, and pandemonium erupts. The deamhain try their best to fight, but their enemy is merciless and almost invisible.
“Drep ina meyla völva!” Konge Grímr bellows, pointing at Agatha. The shout attracts the attention of several bats. They shriek in his face and claw at his eyes. His arms lash out amid their flurrying wings. The antlers slip from his head and topple to the floor. His agony echoes around the chamber.
The Good Hawk Page 22