by Nancy M Bell
“If Vear Du is his father…does that mean Dad can shape shift, too? I mean, is it possible he can do magic, real magic?” She studied her nails and peeked at Bella out of the corner of her eye.
“I don’t rightly know, sweetie. I suppose it’s possible he could, but he’s put up such a wall between himself and even the thought of magic he may have buried it too deep in his psyche for it ever to manifest itself.” Bella patted her hand.
“Am I magic too?” Laurel voiced the thought that had been lurking at the back of her mind ever since she found out about the selkie and her grandmother.
“Now that’s a thought.” Bella sounded surprised. “It explains why the fire salamander, Belerion, came to your aid, and your ability to communicate with the White Lady of the spring. It’s why your friend Aisling is such a favourite of that scamp Gwin Scawen.”
“Ash is magic?” Laurel stared at Gramma Bella. “How, it’s not through her mom, she hates anything to do with magic, or anything out of the ordinary.”
“Alice Nuin is very much like my Colton. Her grandmother, Aisling’s great grandmother, was fey. She taught Sarie a lot of what she knows about herbs and healing. Morwenna was a well-respected hedge witch. She also told fortunes and read the tarot cards. Alice was afraid of her. I remember when we were in school the boys would tease her about her grandmother. I don’t know what happened to make Alice so scared, but she wouldn’t even attend the bonfires on Guy Fawkes Night or any of the old celebrations. She’s closed her mind to everything that isn’t solid and real, just like your dad.”
“That’s so sad, though. Seeing Belerion and Gwin Scawen and everything is really cool. Mom used to tell me stories when I was a kid about undines, and gnomes, and stuff. But never when Dad was around.”
“Your mother is a very special person. Colton couldn’t have picked a better wife.” Bella smiled and looked over Laurel’s head into the middle distance.
“Yeah, she’s pretty cool. Did you know she came to stand up for me when I was bargaining with Gwin ap Nudd inside Glastonbury Tor? She put him in his place pretty quick.” Laurel grinned at the memory.
“You’ll have to tell me that story sometime soon. But now we should get to bed. Morning comes early and I think Sarie plans to start at dawn, just before sunrise.” Bella rose and checked the fire in the Aga stove to be sure it would last until morning.
Laurel got up and followed her down the narrow dark hallway to the foot of the stairs. Bella stopped and hugged her. “I’m so happy you’re here. I love you, sweetie.”
“I love you, too, Gramma.” Laurel burrowed her head into Bella’s shoulder and inhaled the sharp lavender scent she always associated with her gramma.
* * *
Laurel woke up when she heard Sarie stirring in the room down the hall. She threw back the covers and dressed hurriedly in the early morning chill. There was certainly something to be said for central heat, she mused while pulling thick socks onto her cold feet. By the time she reached the kitchen Sarie was already outside. Gramma Bella handed Laurel a mug of hot chocolate and led the way out into the pre-dawn gloom. Pale bands of yellow lightened the eastern sky.
Bella led the way through an arched doorway at the end of the herb garden. Laurel had never gone through there before, Sarie had always taken care of it herself, and Laurel had never given it much thought. Sarie stood in the centre of a grassy open space, a bowl of spring water on the ground by her feet. Bella motioned toward a wooden bench at the side of the gate. Bella sat beside her and took her hand.
Sarie took the two sticks she chose the night before and laid them near the centre of the circle. She placed the ornately carved knife beside them. A silky, deep blue scarf was laid across them. She sprinkled them with water from the brass bowl three times. She turned to face the east and picked up the blue scarf and placed it around her shoulders. Laurel leaned forward to see better when Sarie picked up the two sticks and held one in either hand. She began to speak in a sing-song voice:
I stand today by
The strength of heaven
Light of sun
Radiance of moon
Splendour of fire
Speed of lightening
Swiftness of wind
Kindness of rain
Might of the sea
Firmness of earth
Stability of rock
I am guarded,
Guided,
Shielded and blessed,
By the three that are above me
By the three that are below me
By the three that are over me
By the three that are under me
By the three that are before me
By the three that are behind me
By the three on my right hand
By the three on my left hand
By the three that are within me
By the nine threes am I standing
By the nine threes am I seeing
By the nine threes am I singing
There was more, but Sarie’s voice dropped and Laurel couldn’t make out the words. Sarie stood motionless, her eyes closed, for what seemed like a long time. She glanced at her grandmother. Bella leaned forward, watching the still figure intently. The sky brightened as the minutes passed, a small slice of brilliant orange flaring on the horizon. A slender beam of light seemed to pierce the center of the small garden, connecting Sarie with the glory of the rising sun. A moment later, Sarie opened her eyes and looked straight ahead.
“I see the red of rowan berry, protection from enchantment. I see acorns of the oak, protection and doorway to the mysteries. I see the dark yew, symbol of rebirth and everlasting life,” Sarie repeated the words three times. She sat on the dew wet grass as the sun swung free of the curve of the earth, flooding the tiny garden with light. Picking up one of the sticks, she made some marks on it with the ornate knife. She carved three symbols, but Laurel couldn’t tell if she was making three different marks or repeating the same one over and over. She laid the first piece on the ground and took up the second one. Her hand moved deftly, carving a number of symbols into the soft wood. Sarie laid the sticks on the grass in front of her and stared at them intently. The sun had risen a hand’s span into the sky before she moved and picked up the first stick again and began to carve more marks. Picking up the second stick, Sarie rose to her feet and stood in the full light of the morning sun.
“I see a journey into an enchanted land, with much danger to the travellers. I see a door cracked open at the end of a perilous path. I see a life reborn, but shadowed with sorrow that burns away in the brilliant light of love.” She repeated the words three times.
Laurel frowned and leaned close to her grandmother. “What does she mean?” she whispered.
Bella shook her head and held a finger to her lips.
Sarie finished the last of the ritual and placed the carved sticks on the grass. She took up the brass bowl and blessed the four directions starting in the north. Laying the bowl back on the grass she removed the scarf and placed it over the bowl and sticks. She startled Laurel by clapping her hands sharply three times.
“The circle is open,
But ever unbroken,
This ritual is complete,” she declared.
Gathering up the regalia she used in the ritual, she turned and smiled at Laurel. “Well, that’s that. Let’s go have some breakfast, I’m starved.”
Laurel walked beside her grandmother following Sarie into the house. Bella put the kettle on the stove to heat and Laurel got out mugs and the makings for breakfast. Sarie disappeared up the stairs to store her ritual items safely away. She reappeared a few minutes later and sat at the table regarding Bella thoughtfully. Laurel put a plate of toast in front of her along with a pot of preserves. Her gramma carried the big pottery tea pot over to the table and joined them. After Sarie was finished eating, Bella cleared the dishes away.
Laurel was dying to ask what Sarie had discovered from the dawn ceremony. The carvings fascinated her and she stare
d at the two sticks lying on the table by Sarie’s plate. Although she could make no sense out of the markings, there did seem to be an underlying thread connecting them. I guess if I couldn’t read English the alphabet wouldn’t make sense to me either.
“What did you find out?” Bella stood up and moved restlessly around the room picking things up and putting them down again at random.
“Sit down, Bella. You’re running around like a fly on a hot brick,” Sarie declared.
“I can’t help it. I have the most awful feeling that time is running out for Vear. I need to go and speak with him and see if there is something I can do to help. It’s been so long…I just really need to see him.”
Laurel swallowed at the bright sheen of unshed tears in her grandmother’s blue eyes. “It’ll be okay, Gramma. I know it will.”
“Sit down, Bella. Listen to what I have to say.” Sarie waved at the empty chair beside her. “First, I agree you should try and contact the selkie, meet him at Nanjizal like he asked. The augury is fairly positive, although it does show the possibility of certain danger. It appears that things will work out in your favour in the end. But remember that nothing is certain when it concerns the future, Bella.” Sarie cautioned her friend.
“I’m going to pack some things and go out to the bay today.” Bella dashed out the hall door before Sarie could say anything more. Laurel glanced at the ceiling at the sound of her footsteps echoing overhead.
“I see she hasn’t got any wiser in her old age,” Sarie remarked dryly.
“What do mean?” Laurel bristled at the implied criticism of her grandmother.
“Don’t look at me like that, young lady. Bella never had any patience when we were girls, her impulsiveness always got us into trouble,” Sarie said.
“Okay, so what do you think we should do?” Laurel said.
“You should do nothing. Bella and I will go out to the old ring fort at Carn les Boel and then down into Nanjizal bay. If Vear is there as planned, Bella can speak with him and maybe things will be clearer then.”
“I’m going with you!” There was no way Laurel was staying at home when all the excitement was playing out on the sands of Nanjizal. “If you don’t take me I’ll just follow you on my own.”
“It’s way too far for you to walk there.” Sarie stuck to her guns.
“Coll can drive. He’ll take me if I ask him. You know he will,” Laurel pushed her advantage.
Sarie’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “He would too, the wee rascal. You can come with us, but you are to stay far away from the portal, do you understand?”
Laurel nodded. “Aisling and the boys will want to come too, you know. Gort might even be able to help out because he can ask GogMagog if he knows what’s going on.”
Sarie’s expression brightened. “I almost forgot about that spirit stallion of his. He might come in very useful. Go give them a ring and ask them to be here by four in the afternoon when the tide is on the way out. We should be at the bay when the tide is at its lowest ebb.”
With a squeal of delight, Laurel jumped up to ring Aisling who promised to get in touch with Gort and ask him to see what Gog thought about things. Laurel wanted to contact Coll herself. She wiped her sweaty palm on her jeans and waited for the butterflies in her stomach to settle before she rang Emily’s number. Coll answered and agreed to bring Gort and Aisling with him later in the afternoon. After hanging up, Laurel left Gramma Bella and Sarie sorting through things upstairs and wandered outside. Stopping by the pony field, she leaned on the fence and waited for the horses to come over. She stroked Lamorna’s neck and spoke to the sturdy pony standing beside the mare. He’d appeared with Gort at the Men an Tol when they returned from the crystal caves under Glastonbury Tor. Gort explained it was how his anam cara, his soul friend, appeared in the everyday world. When they entered the other worlds the horse’s true self was revealed. It was hard to reconcile the shaggy pony and his huge expressive eyes with the crystalline magnificence of the stallion that made his home with his brethren under the Tor. Sometimes Laurel thought she’d dreamed the whole thing up, but Mom was healthy now and the doctors said it was a miracle the cancer was in remission.
“So, Gog, what do you think of all this?” she addressed the solemn pony.
He shook his head and snorted before pawing the earth. He turned and took a few paces toward the small valley that bisected the field. He stopped and looked back over his shoulder at her and whickered. When she stayed where she was, he took another few steps and stopped again, tossing his head as he looked back at her.
“You want me to follow you?” Laurel used the fence as an aid and slid onto Lamorna’s wide back. She nudged the pony with her heels and set off across the springy grass, following Gog’s broad hind end. When they reached the narrow path down into the hollow, she swung her leg over Lamorna’s back and landed lightly on the ground. Gog disappeared around the first bend and Laurel hurried to catch up.
“We’re going to the spring, aren’t we?” She walked behind the pony until they reached the small stream that cascaded down the steep side of the valley. The pony halted and moved aside. He pushed Laurel with his nose toward the top of the series of waterfalls. “Okay, okay, I’m going.” She laughed at him. Gog whickered deep in his throat and for a moment the image of the tall silvery stallion wavered in the soft shadows of the trees. Laurel started up the side of the stream. Memories of the last time she’d come this way came unbidden to her mind. At the top of the series of waterfalls was a hidden pool overhung with ferns and sheltered by tall trees. It was where she’d met the White Lady and set off on the quest to heal her mother. She crossed her fingers and hoped Gramma Bella’s adventure would turn out well.
Chapter Eleven
The small glade with the pool of clear water in the centre was the same as she remembered. Sunlight fell through the leaves and dappled the still surface of the water. Laurel sat cross legged on the flat stone by the edge of the pool and closed her eyes. She tried to empty her mind of any thoughts, but things kept popping up as quickly as she pushed them away. The rustle of cloth and a touch on her shoulder startled Laurel. She gasped and opened her eyes. The Lady stood beside Laurel, her long silver-blonde hair shimmering in the green-gold light of the glade.
“Greetings to you, Laurel the seeker,” her musical voice reminded Laurel of tiny bells chiming in the wind.
“Hello.” Laurel didn’t know what else to say.
“What is it you seek this time? I can’t promise to help, but help I will if I can.” She inclined her head gracefully.
“I’m not sure…GogMagog brought me here, but I don’t know why,” she admitted.
“Does it concern the selkie known as Vear Du and the human woman he loves?” The Lady tilted her head to one side, a small frown furrowing her beautiful face.
“She’s my grandmother, the person Vear Du loves. She loves him, too.”
“Love between mortals and immortals is always fraught with strife, and generally ends in heartbreak,” her voice mingled with the sound of the water tumbling over the rocks below the pool.
“Is there a chance they can be happy? They’ve been separated for so long and it just doesn’t seem fair,” Laurel implored her.
“It may seem like a long time to you, but for us it is only a fleeting moment. Think on it, human child. The mortal woman may ache for her lover for a few decades, but the immortal who has given his heart to her will endure centuries and eons of that longing,” the Lady’s voice faded away and her silvery eyes clouded with sorrow.
“Isn’t there some way they can be together?” Tears pricked the back of Laurel’s eyes.
“Not that I am aware of.” The Lady laid her hand on Laurel’s head. “There is one who might know more, he is far older than most of us. He was here when Kernow came into being all those eons ago.”
“Who is it?” Laurel scrambled to her feet. “Where can I find him?”
“He is on the moor near the Men an Tol. You remember where
that is, do you not?”
“Of course I do. But there’s nothing out there other than the Lanyon Tea House. Does he live there?”
Silvery laughter filled the glade as the breeze fluttered the leaves on the trees. “No, dear child. He does not live within the flimsy confines of man-made contrivances.”
Laurel didn’t find anything funny about the situation. If this person could help Gramma Bella and the selkie be together she needed to find him sooner rather than later.
“Don’t frown so, daughter of Eve. You will see the humour once I explain. You must seek out the old man of the stone.”
“The stone is somewhere near the Men an Tol?” Laurel asked. “He lives near a certain stone?” Her heart sank at the thought. There were countless numbers of stones scattered all over the Hundreds of Penwith. Stone circles and menhirs, not to mention the rocky cliffs towering over the sea.
“Not exactly, he lives within the stone, in a manner of speaking,” the Lady replied.
“The stone is used like a portal? Like I used the Men an Tol?” Laurel was confused.
“A portal of sorts, but not the way you are thinking. He is the spirit of the stone and is older than any of us who dwell that half step sideways from the world as you know it.”
“How am I supposed to contact him? Will he understand me?”
“Peace, Laurel Rowan. He dwells in the upright stone, the menhir, that you mortals call the Men Scryfa. It should be of little bother for you to find it.”
“Men Scryfa? What does that mean? I think men means stone but I’ve never heard the other word.”
“In your language it translates from the old Cornish to Literate Stone,” the Lady replied.
‘The stone talks, then?”
“In truth, it does. But the name comes from the words carved on the face of the stone. If you trace the correct symbols with your finger you will wake the spirit within. Whether he will speak with you or not is his choice.”