by Aderyn Wood
It circled again – lower, slower. One large wing brushed against a pine and two pine cones descended, making a noise that rung through the little valley. Its oversized beak loomed dangerously sharp as it sprung open to pierce the valley with its screech. The golden fire of its eyes blazed like the sun and Dale snapped her gaze away as it soared closer. The breeze from its flight washed through the cave like a wave, and the bird’s deafening squawk reverberated until Dale thought her eardrums would break. She heard the deep thud of its wings and she knew it now climbed up above the valley, finally flying on, over the cave, screeching once as it passed.
Cat meowed and Dale let her breath out, unaware she’d been holding it. Esme skipped over and put her arms around Dale’s neck.
“It’s all right, Esme, it didn’t see us, but we had better be more careful.”
Then the pain returned. The throbbing in her ankle made her lightheaded. She crawled to her bed and tried to climb in but stood on the wrong foot. Pain exploded and everything went black.
21
Dale woke late the following morning. She wasn’t sure which hurt more, her throbbing ankle or the hunger pains. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast the day before. I’d kill for a cup of tea. But then the memory of the hawk came back and she shivered.
It was a dark day. Cool too. The coals in her fire pit were dead. A warm fire would be nice but it might be too dangerous. She threw back the bed cover and inspected her ankle. It was twice the size of the other one and an ugly purple bruise encircled it. She wiggled her toes. Not broken then. I must have sprained it. Damn! This would delay her trip even more. She looked around the cave. Her remaining food was neatly organised on the bench. Her clothes were clean and folded. She had made it homely, and she liked it here, but with few provisions, there’d be no way she could survive a winter. But how could she sail with her ankle this way, even if Joy had a rudder. No, she’d have to wait till her ankle healed. She had no idea how long that would take. And what if that hawk came back?
Dale shivered again as she remembered the screech of the hawk. An image of Pastor Richard came to mind and she shook more violently.
Soft tapping sounded from outside. It was raining. As she yearned for the warmth of the fire and the comfort of a cup of tea she wondered where Cat and Esme were. Hopefully not fighting again.
“Esme,” Dale called.
The little sprite appeared immediately and Dale jumped. “Wow, you are quick.”
Esme clapped her hands, jumping on the spot.
Dale considered her little friend. “Thanks, Esme, for warning me about the hawk.”
Esme scowled and brought a finger to her lips.
“You don’t think he can hear me, do you?”
Esme shrugged and waggled her finger in front of Dale.
Dale chewed on her lip considering an idea. “Esme, you know when the ha— when he’s around, don’t you?”
Esme frowned and nodded.
“Can you sense him now?”
The little sprite raised an eyebrow and looked up to the ceiling before making up her mind, then shook her head.
“Esme, I want you to go out as far as you can, see if he is close to this island then come back and let me know. Ok?”
Esme put her fingers in her mouth, her eyes went wide and she began shivering.
Dale reached out and drew her little hands out of her mouth.
“Esme, I want you to be brave. I am not well; I hurt myself. I need to know if that – thing is close to us or not. Please? He can’t hurt you.”
The sprite stomped her foot and creased her eyebrows so tight they almost knitted over. But she stalked out of the cave. Dale only hoped she was going to follow her instructions.
“Be careful,” she yelled.
As she waited Dale managed to crawl out of bed and over to her provisions. She grabbed some flatbread; it was her last piece. She sighed and munched on it.
With her stomach a little more satisfied she crawled over to the fire pit and set up the kindling. If Esme came back with good news she’d light a fire. The rain had grown heavier and the temperature dropped further. The cold seemed to make the pain worse. Dale needed warmth.
She picked up a long branch. It had a Y shape to it. An idea came to mind and gently she stood. She was shaky and accidentally stood on her sore foot, the pain in her ankle shot up like lightning. Sucking in a sharp breath, she waited for the throbbing to recede to a manageable severity.
She turned the long branch up so that the Y shape was near her shoulder and put it under her arm. It was a perfect size for a crutch. She lent on it and managed a step forward. Laughing, despite the pain, she tried a few more steps. Perfect. She was mobile again. Maybe she could keep working on Joy, and even go fishing. God knows she needed food.
By the time Esme returned the weather was even worse. Torrents of rain fell through the valley and the little stream had become a raging creek. Dale doubted whether she could cross it at all. Not with her ankle the way it was anyway.
Esme appeared beside her and Dale jumped again.
“So, did you see him? Is he near?”
Esme shook her head and danced on the spot.
Dale smiled. “And did you go far off the island to make sure he isn’t near?”
Esme nodded.
“Good. I’m going to light this fire.”
With the fire lit and a kettle on to boil Dale relaxed. The pain in her ankle even managed to dull enough to make her forget about it for a while. Cat returned. He was drenched and tried to sit on Dale’s lap, but she shooed him off. “Come back when you’re dry,” she said.
He walked off and hissed at Esme. She hissed back, or would have if she could make sound.
“You two behave; we have to support each other.”
Dale made her tea. It was her last tea bag. I better enjoy it, she thought and enjoy it she did. Its warmth penetrated her body, and felt good. As she sipped she looked into the flames and reflected on everything that had happened. If only Ness could be here too. She’d look after me. She’d make a poultice for my ankle and it would heal in no time.
You could make your own poultice, lass.
Dale jolted and spilt some tea. Ness’s face danced in the flames, looking up at her.
“Ness?” she shouted at the fire, but the vision disappeared.
Send the sprite. She heard Ness’s voice fade off.
“What? Ness! Come back.” A lump formed in Dale’s throat. “Ness.” She suddenly felt lonely and hot moisture itched her eyes. Don’t cry. Come on, you’ve been so strong. She tried to sooth herself, but the loneliness felt like a heavy dark cloak. Cat strolled over and licked her brow. Dale patted him and reached for her cup of tea. But she had spilt it all. Her last tea bag gone, she put her head down and let the tears fall.
Send the sprite. Dale bolted up, ignoring the pain in her leg. It was dark outside and the rain still fell. The coals of the fire burned but needed more fuel.
Send the sprite.
Ness’s words had repeated in her dreams and now rang in her head.
“Of course, I must send Esme!”
Dale smiled. This might work. I hope so.
She grabbed more wood and stoked the fire, ignoring the throbbing pain of her ankle. After a few minutes it came back to life and Dale rubbed her hands in front of the new warmth.
“Esme,” she called. The sprite appeared in an instant and this time Dale didn’t jump. ”Esme, you were so brave this morning, going off to look for the – nasty man.”
The little sprite puffed out her chest like a showy pigeon and smiled, her two delicate fangs poking out over her bottom lip.
“I have another task for you.”
Esme pouted and lowered her chin, looking up at Dale from under her eyebrows.
“This is a very important task. Do you remember Ness – the nice old woman with long silver hair, and blues eyes? She wears a deep blue crystal at her neck and lives with Brutus.”
Esme nodded and smiled
.
“Very good.” Dale smiled back. Esme did a little jig and clapped her hands.
“Do you think you could find Ness and take her a message from me?”
Esme brought a finger to her lips as she considered this grave task. Finally she nodded.
“Wonderful.” Dale smiled. She got out her sketch pad and pencil and scrawled a note.
Dear Ness,
I am stranded on an island. I am not really sure where but I think I may be directly west of the Hebrides, maybe ???
There was a storm and Joy was damaged. I have managed to do some maintenance but I still have a major problem – no rudder.
That enemy we spoke of. He has been looking for me. We managed to hide from him but he might come back.
Sometimes, when I look into the fire here I think I see you. Is it really you that I see? Did you tell me to send Esme (my sprite)? Well, I have. Hopefully she will find you and you will get this letter. I have hurt my ankle. And so I have to wait for it to heal before I can move on. I have run out of flatbread and tea bags.
Your friend, Dale.
Dale folded the letter and gave it to Esme. It looked huge in her little hand.
“Will you be able to take it to her, Esme?”
The little sprite nodded and put her arms around Dale’s neck.
“Thank you,” Dale said, but the sprite had already vanished.
22
When Dale woke she felt only a small pain in her ankle. She lifted the covers to inspect it. The swelling had reduced, but the purple bruise had darkened. Outside, the morning sunshine fell on the spruce trees. Summer’s back, good.
Grabbing her crutch she swung her legs out of bed and sucked in her breath when she almost trod on the little sprite, asleep on the floor beside her.
“Esme?”
Esme woke and yawned fiercely, stretching her arms in the air. Dale suspected she mimicked the way she woke every morning.
“You’re back! Did you see Ness?”
Esme nodded and clapped her hands. Dale raised a brow. How fast can she travel? The speed of light?
“Did you give her the note?”
Again Esme nodded and this time she skipped over to a bag by the entrance of the cave. She dragged it along the cave floor to Dale’s feet before vanishing.
Dale blinked. It was a small cotton shoulder bag. The looped stitching and uneven dye suggested it was home made. She opened it and smiled at the contents – flatbread and a container of tea. There was also a small book. It looked like one of the old books that lined Ness’s sitting room. It was bound in hard, brown leather. The first page simply read ‘Meditations’, written by hand. She turned the page and a piece of paper fell out.
Dale unfolded it. It was a note from Ness.
Dear Dale,
You are right to be wary of the hawk. Have Esme search for him at dawn and dusk. If he appears you must hide yourself under hard rock, but I think you have already worked this out. He uses the sight to search for you. I have given you some small provisions, and a book. Practice the exercises within it. I should have given you this before you left, but I thought you would have made it to the Borderlands by now. I think he may have summoned that storm. There was little I could do to protect you. He is strong, never doubt that. But you have proven yourself. You are doing well, Dale, and I have no doubt that you are learning things that will only strengthen you in the long run. You are very close to the Borderlands. When you set sail it won’t take you long. Make sure you practise your meditations. I know you will master them more quickly than I did when I first learnt. You will be a step ahead when you get there. They will be proud.
Gareth would be proud.
Yours,
Ness.
Dale blinked. Gareth would be proud. She smiled and folded the note. But who were ‘they’? And why would they be proud? She shook her head. Every time she spoke with Ness she seemed to ask more questions. But it was good to get this from her. She felt comforted.
“Esme.”
The sprite appeared and jigged on one foot, her head cocked.
“I have another important task for you, my little friend. I need you to check for that nasty bird every day at dawn and dusk. This is very important, Esme. Will you do it?”
Esme pricked her finger with a fang as she considered the request, and then nodded solemnly.
Dale breathed out slowly. “Thank you; you are my protector.”
Puffing her chest out Esme marched from the cave.
It took Dale a long time to make it to Joy, even with the crutch. She wasn’t used to using her arm to take the weight off her left side and the going was slow. But she got there. She decided to spend the bulk of the day fixing the rudder. Then in the afternoon she would try to catch some fish. A hearty stew for dinner was just what she needed.
She returned to her work with the rudder, pencilling two spots where she could fix the bone to the tiller with the screws. She had no idea whether it could work or not. Was it possible to put a screw in bone? That’s what surgeons do all the time, so it has to be possible. She placed the hand drill on the spot and tried to steady her hands. This had to work. Without a rudder she had no boat, and without a boat she was stuck. And the Borderlands were calling.
She started drilling and to her fascination it seemed to be working. When she finished, she blew the shavings away and saw that it was a perfect job. Smiling, she started on the second hole. Her success buoyed her on and she took the two screws and tried to fix the new rudder to the tiller. It worked! She attached the rudder rope and pulled. It did what it was supposed to do and flipped downward. Then she released it and the rudder eased back up. Dale clapped her hands the way Esme did when she was happy. “It worked. I can’t believe it!”
After the trials of the epoxy Dale had expected the rudder business to be even more arduous, but this had worked the first time. She looked out to the sea. The waves were big today. Of course she wouldn’t know if it really worked until she sailed Joy again. There was still the possibility that it wouldn’t hold the pressure of the water. She glanced at her ankle. It was starting to throb again. Would she be able to sail tomorrow?
Trying to forget about her doubts she set off for the shoreline where she managed to climb a little way along the rock wall and cast her line. Within half an hour she had three fish. Gareth would have loved this fishing spot. She struggled back to the cave. Cat followed her; the scent of the fish no doubt attracted him.
By the time she had cooked herself a warm pot of stew, twilight had fallen and Esme returned to report that there was no hawk lurking. She did this by making a scowl and flapping her wings then shaking her head and clapping and jumping on the spot with a smile on her face.
Dale rewarded her with a hug.
Cat enjoyed the feed of fresh fish too, and curled up on Dale’s bed ready for sleep while Esme curled up near the fire. Dale noticed that they were ignoring each other, which was better than their usual fighting.
After her dinner Dale found the little book that Ness had sent her. She opened it to the first page.
Each exercise must be mastered before moving on to the next.
Dale lifted her eyebrows. Could she master even one of them?
She turned to the first exercise.
Breathing for Beginners.
She learnt how to slow her breathing by inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. She had to imagine the oxygen travelling through her body and down her limbs, fingers and toes. As she read, Dale relaxed.
Putting the book down, she folded her legs and rested her palms upwards, just like the drawing in the book.
She slowed her breathing and visualised the oxygen, travelling lightly, lightly through her body.
Her mind raced ahead and she saw a white mist. When she looked around she was on Joy. Cat was there too, sniffing the air with his moist nose.
The air was silent and still, but despite this Joy edged along, moving gently in the water. Every now and then Dale tho
ught she caught a glimpse of something more solid beyond the mist. Trees? A jetty?
Then the fog cleared and she saw him – a young man, tall and graceful. He smiled and yelled out to her.
“I’m Jaral. I’m waiting for you.”
23
Dale’s eyes flew open. The little book lay at her side. I think I may have advanced through a few steps.
The fire burned low and the moon arced high. It must be close to midnight. How long was I meditating?
Cat hadn’t moved, but that wasn’t unusual. He often stayed in the same position for hours, especially when he had a full belly.
She recalled the vision. The mist. It must have been the Borderlands. Was it a dream, or was it real? Then she remembered the young man, his tall form and blond braids clearly visible in her memory. She’d seen him before in another vision. He was waiting for her. What was his name? Jarra. No. Jaral. That’s it.
“Esme.”
The little sprite jumped in front of her, appearing out of thin air.
“Esme, have you been to the Borderlands before?”
She nodded her head so violently that Dale reached out to stop her.
“Is it close?”
More violent nodding.
“Do you know Jaral?”
Esme nodded and skipped. Dale bit her lip. He’s waiting for me? A shot of nerves filled her stomach. What could it mean? Perhaps Jaral was another sorcerer. He didn’t seem like a sorcerer though. He seemed too young and strange-looking. Not in an odd way, he just looked different; like a character out of a fairytale.
She yawned and her whole body shook with the effort. Whatever it means it can wait. I’m pooped.
A fine spray tickled her face and Dale opened her eyes. Rain poured like a waterfall over the mouth of the cave. Her fire was extinguished. She shivered and sat up. She drew the covers around her and stared at the torrent that thrashed the ground and the valley – a veil of water. I won’t be sailing today then.
Sighing, she bent and inspected her ankle. The swelling had gone down and so had the bruise, which was a light purple colour now. Cat stirred beside her, stretching out one paw followed by the other. She smiled and patted him, his purring audible even over the heavy rainfall.