The Borderlands (Book One): Journey

by Aderyn Wood

  But Ness told her “all in good time” and bustled her out with Brutus to go fishing.

  It was mid-morning and she ambled along the shoreline carrying the world’s oldest fishing reel and a basket. Brutus was quick and graceful for such a big man. He danced over the sand and the rock pools, stopping occasionally to watch the marine life within. At one pool he pulled out a crab. It was the size of his hand, huge, with an obsidian blue shell. Brutus gestured to her basket and Dale opened it. He placed the crab within. She guessed they would have crab for dinner.

  Brutus was so quick that after a while Dale stopped trying to keep up. She figured she would simply find him when he stopped.

  The Island of Mull was one of the largest islands in the Hebrides. Ness seemed to own a lot of land. With no roads on her side of the island she relied solely on her boat for transportation. Not that Dale suspected she used it much. Ness had her own generator, but used it rarely. The lamp that had gone out in the storm was only brought to life when she had guests. Ness said she worked fine by candle light, and she made her own candles.

  It was an idyllic self sufficient life. Ness had her large garden for vegetables. She grew a few crops of wheat and oats – enough to sustain her and Brutus, her only companion.

  As she walked, Dale looked out at the ocean. The Borderlands were out there to the north-west. Before she’d left with Brutus that morning, Ness had stood with her, outside the cottage, pointing over the ocean. “It’s that way.” When Dale followed the direction of her gaze all she saw was the great dark blue of the ocean. Did Ness really expect her to sail into it alone?

  Dale studied it now. The deep blue shimmered in the mid-morning sun. The waves were slow moving hills – larger than any she’d experienced. It looked so lonely. The sailing, so far, had been fairly protected. But out there it was open to the strong northerly winds. How am I supposed to sail it by myself?

  She shivered and kept walking.

  She rounded a bend in the shoreline and stepped past a large tree. The sight that met her took her breath away.

  Brutus jumped from one foot to the other and swatted, as two small creatures danced around the big man.

  Dale squinted. What are they?

  They were like two old men no taller than knee level. One was blue with a grey beard. The other was bright orange and had a fat protruding tummy. Dale shook her head. But when she looked again they were still there.

  Gnomes. She thought. Just like my paintings.

  Greybeard pinched Brutus’s rear, making the big man jump again. Poor Brutus tried to swat at the gnome, but it only made him lose his balance and fall over onto the sand, flat out on his back.

  Then both gnomes jumped on his stomach, using it as a trampoline. Orange belly even did a somersault. Brutus tried to shoo them off but he looked like a turtle caught on his back. The gnomes wore sinister grins and Brutus looked petrified. It reminded her of the bullying at St Nino’s and something in Dale snapped.

  “Get off him! Leave him be, you monsters!” she yelled.

  The gnomes looked up, startled. Their snarky expressions turned to dread and then they both vanished. At once. Dale blinked. Had that really happened?

  Brutus had his eyes shut; his hands were over his head, protecting himself.

  Dale bent down and touched him on the shoulder but the big man jumped again.

  He thinks I’m a gnome.

  She held his face with her hands the way she’d seen Ness do when she wanted to talk to him.

  Brutus opened his eyes.

  “It’s alright, Brutus, they’re gone.”

  He stood, then turned to Dale and smiled; his tooth gleamed in the sunlight.

  “Brutus, what were they?” she asked him slowly.

  He shook his head and said, “Bad, bad.”

  Dale rubbed his shoulder. “It’s alright, they have gone now.”

  She looked out over the ocean again. Had she really seen the gnomes? And what of her sprite, had that been true? She dropped her fishing reel and basket.

  “You start fishing, Brutus, I’ll come back.”

  “Where going?” he asked.

  Dale turned to him with fire in her eyes, “Back to see Ness. I need answers. Now!”

  Dale could see Ness in the distance, sitting on a rock near Joy. She held her arm up and a large bird flew and landed on her forearm. Dale hesitated, then picked up her pace.

  When she got closer she could see the bird more clearly. Ness seemed to be giving it loving attention, talking and stroking it the way one might a pet.

  It was a large gull. Wait, like that gull at the island?

  Ness saw her approach and she stood.

  “Isn’t she beautiful?” she said into the sea breeze.

  The bird was looking at her, as though it knew Dale was examining it.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Ness laughed. “She’s an albatross, of course. Off you go, Nancy, see you soon.” She moved her arm and the bird took flight over the sea.

  “Nancy? You call an albatross Nancy?”

  Ness shrugged. “That’s her name. Why have you come back? You couldn’t have caught any fish yet?”

  Dale stood firm. “I have questions and I want answers.”

  “Aye, and I told you all in goo—”

  “No, I’ve waited long enough. I just saw two smurfs tease Brutus. Now either I’m crazy, or something really is going on here and if that’s the case I want to know, now.”

  Ness raised an eyebrow, and returned Dale’s stare.

  “Let’s go up to the cottage, Dale. These things are always more palatable with a nice cup of tea.”

  Ness poured a cup of steaming tea for Dale, before joining her at the table.

  “Were those gnomes I saw?”

  Ness nodded. “Yes, that’s what we call them here. They are free spirits, originally from the Borderlands, they come and go here and everywhere; that’s why they are called free.”

  Dale frowned. “So what were they doing to Brutus?”

  Ness took a sip of tea. “They tease him. The free spirits are childish creatures. They like to play and have fun, but like children, sometimes that means teasing and making fun at the expense of others. You see, Brutus is one of them, so they see him as a brother.”

  “What! Brutus is a gnome?” Dale put her cup down.

  “Yes, it happens. There are many spirits. Sometimes they are forced into a human body. It’s cruel but it happens.”

  Dale closed her mouth.

  “It’s curious,” Ness said, her brows knitted.

  “What?” Dale asked.

  “Can you see any now? Any of the free spirits? The gnomes? Or – sprites?”

  Dale looked up sharply. “No. Why do you say sprites?”

  “There are many different spirits, Dale. I think you may have seen them all once, when you were a child?”

  Dale nodded.

  “Normally they are in abundance here. Getting into mischief. They rarely leave poor Brutus alone. But they seem to have disappeared lately. Since you came.” Ness’s blue eyes sparkled.

  “This is crazy.” Dale shook her head. “How do I know you’re not making it all up?”

  “You know what you saw.” Ness sipped her tea.

  “I’ve seen a sprite – a little creature that seems to follow me. She looks exactly like a painting I did at home. She’s appeared to me a few times now. Once she hid me in a cave and a huge bird flew past. I saw that bird in the vision you showed me last night. So what is the sprite? And what is that bird?”

  Ness put her cup down and looked at Dale. “Dale, there are many things in the universe – things that are not easily explained. That sprite is very real. She has a strong connection with you. Many of the free spirits are not reliable, but she is. She is intent on protecting you. I’m not sure why. But if she guides you, you are best to follow. As for the hawk. Avoid it, at all costs. And when you dream of the wave with the golden eye you must wake. Don’t let it see you!”r />
  Dale bit her lip. “Am I in danger?”

  “I’ve no wish to frighten you, but you saw what happened to Gareth. We can’t let that happen to you.”

  Dale stood and looked out the window. Brutus had returned with three fat fish in his hands. There were no gnomes now.

  “But what about auras, and that mystic in the book shop? Am I a changeling like she said? What does that even mean? And why is Pastor Rich—”

  “Shhh, don’t say his name. Not ever!” Ness raised her voice and it startled Dale. “And you’d be best not to use your sight for auras. Not until you reach the Borderlands.”

  “But what are the Borderlands?”

  “Dale, you have every right to ask these questions, but it is difficult to answer them. We haven’t enough time. All will be revealed. You need the right guidance and the only safe place to give you that guidance is the Borderlands. It’s important you get there soon. There are many things in the world; people don’t know.”

  Dale’s ears tweaked. She remembered hearing those words before. Rhys had said that the night of the party, in the rose garden.

  “Answer me one question then.”

  Ness looked at her, squinting her eyes slightly. She nodded. “I’ll try.”

  “Is Rhys tied up in all of this?” Dale asked.

  Ness breathed deeply. “Yes. More than you could imagine.”

  13

  Dale stayed with Ness for five days. She asked the old woman many questions and received few answers. Two things she understood. Pastor Richards was after her, and she needed to escape to the Borderlands – the only place she would be safe.

  Ness had shown Dale a map with sepia colours and frightening images of whirlpools and krakens in the seas. It crinkled in her hands when she held it. Dale recognised the Hebrides. A swirling cloud was drawn to the west. It sat past the Hebrides, amongst the dangers of the North Sea. All sorts of mythical creatures surrounded it – dragons and fairies, and orcs. Ness put her finger on it. “That’s where you must head.”

  How was Dale to sail her little boat in such an ocean? The North Sea had taken thousands of lives, its hunger renowned. How could she sail it by herself?

  “You’ll be sailing when the weather is calm, lass,” was all Ness said.

  In the afternoon Dale stepped into the little sitting room and sat in an overstuffed blue chair, staring at the painting of the Borderlands. It played its usual trick. Just as she thought she had a clear image of a tree or a jetty, the mists would swirl and she would lose the focus.

  A yell made her look out the window. Brutus ran past, slapping and running with his hands above his head. The gnomes were back. And this time there was a female figure – a little red sylph. She pinched Brutus on the behind as he ran past making the big man jump and yelp.

  Dale’s eyes widened as she watched the scene. She pinched her own arm and felt the pain. I’m not dreaming.

  Brutus was running with his hands over his eyes when grey beard, the blue gnome, put a foot out making the big man trip and fall onto his stomach. The three little monsters used his buttocks as a trampoline this time. They held hands and laughed silently as they bounced up and down.

  Dale marched out of the cottage and faced them.

  “Stop it,” she commanded.

  The three creatures ceased their fun at once and looked up at her. Fear spread on their faces. They jumped off Brutus and bowed their heads.

  “You must stop this. I don’t want to see you tease Brutus again. Do you understand?”

  The three of them nodded sullenly. The fat gnome had his bottom lip stuck out almost as far as his belly. The sylph frowned, her lip quivered.

  “Now scat.” They disappeared.

  “How interesting.”

  Dale turned to see Ness standing by the cottage. She’d obviously witnessed the scene. She walked over to Brutus and helped him up, dusting the dirt from his shirt.

  “What’s interesting?” Dale asked.

  Ness told Brutus the spirits had gone and he should be safe for the rest of the day. Brutus lumbered over to the garden.

  Ness turned back to Dale. “Walk with me.”

  They strolled through the vegetable garden. Ness held a basket and bent down every so often to pick tomatoes, a carrot, or some herbs like the sage and rosemary that grew in abundance.

  “What was so interesting?” Dale repeated her question.

  Ness glanced at her with blue eyes that sparkled in the afternoon sun. “When I was young and began my training it took me a very long time to be successful in commanding the free spirits. Some years in fact.”

  Dale picked a mint leaf and chewed at it. “What training?”

  Ness smiled. “Sorcery of course.”

  “You’re a sorcerer?”

  “I prefer sorceress.”

  Dale stopped and stared, her mouth open.

  Ness laughed. “Well, what did you think I was?”

  “And, what about …”

  “Gareth?”

  Dale nodded.

  “Yes.” Ness sighed. “He was one of the best.”

  Dale swallowed. “Did he know about my – talents?”

  Ness nodded. “Aye, he knew. He meant to protect you.”

  Dale’s vision blurred and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

  “He did protect me,” she croaked. “It was me Pastor— that man was after. I don’t know how he did it, but Gareth made it so that I couldn’t be seen or heard, hiding me. But he died because of it.” The memory of blood in Gareth’s beard came back to her.

  Ness nodded again. “Aye, you have the right of it, dear.”

  “And that man? Is he?”

  “Yes,” Ness interrupted. “He is a sorcerer too. And very powerful.”

  Dale shivered. Things were beginning to make some kind of strange sense. But what was she? What was Dale?

  “So tell me again about these free spirits and what just happened here.”

  Ness bent to pluck a carrot out of the ground. When she stood she looked Dale in the eye.

  “Those free spirits obeyed you. You have no training. No knowledge of how to control them. Yet they obeyed you, and they were afraid of you. As I said, it took me years before I could control them. That is what is interesting.”

  Dale’s brows knitted. “But, I just told them what to do and they did it. What’s so difficult about that?”

  Ness bit her lip and stepped toward a sprawling cucumber vine. Butterflies danced above its little yellow flowers.

  “Do you see the butterflies?”

  Dale cocked her head. “Of course I see them.” Their bright blue reminded Dale of Joy, before the new paint job.

  Ness nodded, and then looked square at Dale. “Tell them to fly away.”

  “What?” Dale raised her eyebrows.

  “Go on, try,” Ness insisted.

  This is ridiculous, Dale thought. But Ness swept her hand toward the butterflies as though waiting for Dale to do it.

  “Go away,” she said and put her hand on a hip, feeling slightly silly.

  The butterflies still fluttered around the cucumber flowers like silk ribbons, ignorant to Dale’s commands.

  Ness laughed. “That was how it was for me when I first tried to command the free spirits. I’d tell them to do something and they’d ignore me, or not hear me. Like I said, it took years of training before they would listen. But you do it without a blink. It’s more than interesting, Dale. It’s bloody unfathomable.”

  That night Ness made a delicious meal of fish pie and baked vegetables straight from the garden.

  Dale envied Ness’s lifestyle. She was all alone really, aside from Brutus. But that would be nice. There was no one to bully her. She was ruler of the island, so self sufficient. She had a boat and a generator for electricity, but the generator was only used that first night. She remembered the glow from the stained-glass lamp before the storm came. Ness had told her that she only used electricity when she had guests. Dale wondered w
hat other guests Ness received.

  After they cleared the plates and washed the dishes, Ness and Dale sat in the cosy sitting room. The candles were lit and the fire cast orange warmth around the room. Dale relished the comfort and wished she could stay with Ness forever. Cat liked it too. She imagined an idyllic life – helping in the garden the way she used to help old Joan, and fishing with Brutus. She could protect him from those bullying spirits.

  “You’re to leave tomorrow.”

  Dale looked up, startled. Ness had spoken but now gazed at the fire.

  “Tomorrow? Why?” she asked.

  “The weather, it will be most suitable. We have studied the maps enough. You should know where to go by now. Brutus and I will have supplies ready for you. You’ll leave at dawn.”

  Dale’s heart thumped. “Are you sure? Can’t I stay a little longer?”

  Ness looked at her with kindness. “I know you like it here, just as you liked being with Gareth. But this is not your home either, you must leave.”

  Dale considered that word – home. She looked into the fire and wondered what was happening at home. Would her mother be worried? She imagined her in the kitchen cooking a feast for some prized guest. The twins were helping her with an idle task, both wearing pink ribbons in their hair. She saw the kitchen clearly. Her mother wore a full face of makeup, her nails newly polished as she tossed a salad. Prudence Feathertop and Natalia Dunstan walked into the kitchen.

  Dale jerked her head and blinked. It had happened again. Her imagination had got the better of her. Why had she imagined Prudence and Natalia in her house?

  Ness was looking at her, a smile played on her lips. “You need to believe in your imagination, Dale. Often what you see is true.”

  Dale creased her brow. “Are you saying my daydreams are real?”

  Ness shrugged. “They’re not daydreams. It’s called scrying.” Ness bit her lip. “It’s another thing you do with great ease. Scrying took me a long time to master too. It makes me wonder about the power you hold.”

  “Power? I don’t have any power.”

  “Yes. You do.” Ness stood and put a log on the fire. “It’s high time you stopped resisting the fact.”