The Borderlands (Book One): Journey

by Aderyn Wood

  As the day wore on the rain eased but the temperature dropped. Dale grew tired of shivering and stoked her fire, thankful that she had stockpiled enough wood to get her through a few days.

  After a meal of flatbread and tea, she opened the little book on meditations and flicked to the first page, then frowned. The beginning exercise was no longer there. Now it read: Exercises for the Apt Practitioner.

  Dale slammed the book shut then opened it again, looking for the page about exercises for the beginner, but she couldn’t find it. Maybe it had been a later page, not that that made any sense. She scanned through the book but read the same thing on every page. What? She threw the book down, glaring at it. It didn’t make any sense. But I guess none of this makes any sense. She reached for the book.

  The apt practitioner is ready for deep meditation in which solutions to problems may be found. Through meditation the sorcerer creates a link with the cosmos.

  “Sorcerer? I’m not a sorcerer,” Dale whispered, but continued reading.

  The page instructed her to do the breathing exercise again and to visualise something simple, like a daisy. Dale tried but the exercise wasn’t so easy. She kept getting an itchy nose. Or she felt a twinge in her ankle. Once, Cat tried to curl up in her lap, his kneading paws pricking her skin. In the end she gave it up and had something more to eat with another cup of tea.

  After feeding the fire and soaking up its warmth, she fumbled around the cave looking for jobs to keep her mind busy – making her bed, sorting her dwindling food supplies and folding her clothes into neat piles. About mid-afternoon, with nothing left to do, she gave the meditation another try.

  This time the exercise proved easier. She focused her breathing and her body released its tension. An odd detachment ran through her, as though she wasn’t really there in the cave. Once fully relaxed, she tried to visualise the daisy. A number of images came to mind, like an Internet search, but none of them stuck. She slowed it down, taking it more gradually, concentrating on the stem of the daisy. She imagined its small green cylinder. In her mind’s eye it floated in front of a background of darkness. Allowing her sight to traverse the stem, she came to the head of the daisy – soft white petals surrounding a golden centre. She could even see the tiny balls of pollen that fell across the face of the flower.

  A bee flew by and landed on the petals. Dale was struck, she hadn’t imagined the bee. Suddenly the darkness disappeared, like a rippling curtain, and she sat in the middle of a meadow. Hundreds of daisies surrounded her. The sun shone in a blue sky; it was warm. She reached for a daisy and saw her pale arm. She could feel her arms, and her legs. She had visualised herself!

  “Well done; you are a natural.”

  Dale looked around. Where had that voice come from?

  “The old woman was right; you have raw talent, much more than any of us.”

  Dale’s breath caught in her throat. That voice, that accent. It was familiar.

  “But you should be careful with your power. You don’t fully know how to use it yet.”

  The voice got closer; he was standing right behind her. She turned.

  “You don’t want to attract the wrong sort of company.”

  Dale’s eyes widened. Rhys. He now stood right in front of her and wore his typical charming smile. Dale squinted. “Did I imagine you?”

  He laughed. His dark curls glistened in the sun and her stomach dropped.

  Dale blinked.

  The fire and the cave came into view. It was dark out now, but the rain still fell. Rhys, she thought. It wasn’t a dream. Just like with Jaral, I know I wasn’t dreaming. I was meditating. So what did it mean? What did he mean by the wrong sort of company? She frowned as she poked the fire with a long stick. She still didn’t know if Rhys could be trusted. What had Ness said about him? That Rhys was involved, somehow, but could he be trusted?

  Dale rubbed her neck and calmed her breathing. Her cool hands soothed the fire in her cheeks. Whether he could be trusted or not didn’t change the fact that even in a vision, he still managed to ignite heat in her blood.

  24

  All night Dale dreamed. There was a hawk and an owl in the sky. They were fighting. The owl drew blood but then Nancy, the albatross, swept past and the dream changed to Gareth inspecting her repairs on the boat. He scratched his beard when he saw the new rudder. This should work, lass. You need to test it.

  Dale woke. They were only dreams; nothing magical. But Gareth’s face was so clear, so real, as though she could have reached out to feel the salty bristles of his beard.

  Outside, early morning sunshine lit the valley. The rain had gone and the fresh scent of pine wafted through the cave. Dale bounded out of bed and stoked the fire before putting a pot of water on to boil. Only then did she realise her ankle didn’t hurt as much. She smiled. I’ll be able to test the rudder after all.

  After breakfast she limped down to the path, no longer needing her crutch. Cat found her and tagged along. “You always know when we’re going sailing, don’t you, Cat?”

  Dragging Joy down the beach took all of Dale’s strength. Her ankle hurt when she put too much pressure on it. But she took her time, gradually bringing Joy to the shallows. After hoisting the mast and rigging the mainsail, she decided against the jib, it was only a test sail. With the tiller rope fastened the rudder fell into the water, and she swung the tiller back and forth. It looked like it would work.

  Cat was already in the boat, pacing. When she joined him he meowed in a fashion that said ‘about time’.

  “Keep your claws in, Cat. It’s not like I haven’t been trying.”

  Dale pulled on the main and steered the rudder. Joy moved forward, toward the deep blue ocean of the west.

  “It’s working.” She let her breath out slowly. There was a danger the rudder would snap off, so she completed a few tacks closer to the shore, just in case.

  When the bone rudder held she became more confident. “Let’s go out further,” she said to Cat. He twitched his tail, ears firmly forward.

  Tacking again she reached out toward the west. The further they went, the stronger the wind and the boat picked up speed. Still, with the added pressure, the rudder held. She laughed. I think I did it!

  As usual she fell into the spell that sailing wove for her. The wind against her skin and the sound of the boat as it planed through the water had her smiling and laughing. She spent the bulk of the day ‘testing’ the rudder and then turned in to the bay. As she entered the protective shallows the fish were enjoying their afternoon jumping.

  “May as well catch some fish for our last meal, Cat.”

  Yes, I will leave tomorrow, she thought. The Borderlands are waiting.

  Dale spent the afternoon preparing for her departure. She had most of her provisions packed and carted them to the boat where she deposited them in the portholes. She inspected the rudder one last time. Everything held and she was confident Joy would get them to their destination. When she finished she collected more water in her bottles and added them to the cargo.

  She went fishing then and caught four fish. She gave one to Cat and took the others back to the cave where she made one last fish stew. She looked over her food supplies. There was probably enough for two days, maybe three or four at a stretch. She bit her lip. She had to make it to the Borderlands. There was no other choice.

  After dinner she cleaned up and thought about the task ahead. She had enjoyed her little cave. She’d learnt a lot about herself, her resilience. She looked at the book that Ness had sent her and realised she’d learnt something about magic too. Maybe I am a sorcerer. It was a strange idea. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

  “Esme,” she called and the sprite materialised. “Everything clear on the front?”

  The little sprite cocked her head and creased her eyebrows together.

  Dale laughed. “No sign of that evil bird?” Esme shook her head and smiled before disappearing when Cat hissed at her.

  “You two should really get
over your differences.”

  Cat stalked over and curled up in her lap.

  “Yes, you should get lots of sleep tonight, Cat. We have a big adventure ahead of us tomorrow.”

  Dale didn’t feel tired yet, and opened the meditation book. It had changed again. It now read, Scrying for Beginners. Dale took a deep breath. “Ok, let’s see what this is all about.”

  Look into the fire, Dale.

  Dale blinked and read the line again.

  Look into the fire, Dale. As you look, begin the breathing exercise.

  “My god, now it’s talking to me directly!”

  She read on.

  When your muscles have relaxed, think of whomever you wish to scry for and open your sight.

  Dale’s heart pounded. She put the book down.

  There was a squawk outside and the flutter of wings. Cat looked up sharply. “It’s all right, Cat. I think it’s just a normal bird.” The moon was rising and the stars shone brightly in the black sky.

  “Ok, let’s try this.”

  Dale steadied her breathing and relaxed. It took a while as her excitement kept her pulse quickened. When her heart steadied she focused her sight on the flames and thought of Ness. She imagined silver hair and sparkling eyes. Her mind reached out to the woman whose image now stood in the fire. Then she opened her sight just as the book told her to do.

  Well done, lass. The apparition in the fire spoke with Ness’s voice. Dale smiled but the vision waivered.

  Concentrate, Dale. You must keep your focus or it will stop.

  Dale focused her mind and the vision became even clearer. She recognised the sitting room again with the many books that lined the shelves. No doubt the meditation book belonged there too.

  “Ness, am I scrying, really?” Dale said it out loud and saw Ness shake her head.

  Don’t say it, lass, think it.

  Dale understood and thought her question to Ness.

  The old woman laughed in the vision. Yes, you really are, and you’re doing it very well. My, how far will you go?

  “What do you mean?”

  Never mind. How are you? How’s your ankle?

  It’s better. I’m going to leave tomorrow.

  Ness’s eyes widened. Very good, Dale. Gareth would be so proud of you.

  The image blurred and Dale lost the vision.

  25

  Dale was up before dawn. She had a quick breakfast, and packed the remaining food and clothes into the canvas bags before carting them to the boat. As she worked Cat and Esme fought around her. The pair of them scratched and hissed and pounced. But Dale suspected it was more play than fighting. Maybe they’re beginning to like each other.

  She picked up the crystal pendant and watched the dawn sun reflect beams of blue and green around the walls of the cave. Dale tied the leather thong around her neck. The crystal’s warmth felt good.

  The cave was empty now, aside from the mattress of pine needles on her bed and the fire pit at the entrance. She sighed; she’d felt at home here.

  By the time the sun rose an inch or two higher, Dale was in Joy, with Cat on one side and Esme on the other. The little sprite waved to the island as though saying goodbye. Dale waved too.

  It was a calm day, no real breeze to speak of. Joy drifted, gently. The water, a mirror beneath them, Dale wondered how something so serene could become so angry. She remembered the great storm that had landed them on the island and caused all the damage to Joy in the first place. Hopefully it wouldn’t come again.

  By mid-morning the breeze had lifted and Joy sailed along at a quicker pace, and by midday it turned into a wind. Dale managed to munch on some flatbread and handle the tiller at the same time. The rudder was doing perfectly well. She looked around and saw an abundance of ocean. Any sight of land had disappeared about an hour ago.

  “Do you think we’re on the right track?” she asked Esme.

  The little sprite nodded.

  By the time the stars came out at twilight Dale was hungry. She nibbled on a piece of stale bread washed down with water, and laid back to watch the darkening sky.

  Thoughts of her family back in Glasgow filled her mind and an image of Benny came to her. He lay in his bed. When she looked closer she could see him reaching out his hand as though he was trying to touch her and he mouthed a word. Was it ‘Dale’?

  She blinked and lost the vision. Had he really seen her?

  Who else could I scry?

  She focused her breathing and thought of her mother. She opened her second sight and Victoria appeared. She was in the shower, washing her hair. Dale closed the vision. She didn’t really want to spy on people in the shower. She suddenly wondered how many people had such a talent and if anyone had ever spied her in the shower.

  Then she thought about Rhys and looked up at the sky again. The first stars shone brightly and it reminded her again of the night of the party when Rhys had spoken about them. The knot of pain from that night flared again, but she stifled it and focused her breathing, forming an image of Rhys in her mind. But when she opened her second sight all she saw was a white owl with black eyes, flying in the purple sky, the lights of Glasgow twinkling beneath.

  She blinked her eyes and banished the vision. She tried again, but all she got was the vision of the owl. What could it mean?

  Dale slept. She woke once during the night and saw that Cat and Esme were snuggled close to her. A thick fog had descended, and droplets of moisture had settled on her short hair. She pulled the canvas around her.

  The sea had remained calm and Dale let Joy drift. The sound of the waves provided a rhythmic comfort. She told Esme to alert her if they drifted off course too much and hoped the sprite understood what she meant.

  When she woke fully, fog hung like gauze curtains in a grey sky. There was no breeze and the sail fell limp on the mast. Dale sat up and her eyes widened when she saw the mess in the boat.

  Esme had pulled everything out of the portholes and bags, and deposited Dale’s provisions in the boat. Cat watched the little sprite as she worked. She was currently pulling out Dale’s clothes.

  “Esme, what are you doing?”

  Esme looked at her and spoke quickly, her hand gestures flying, but as usual there was no sound.

  “Esme, I can’t understand. Look, slow down. Are you looking for something?”

  Esme nodded.

  Dale bit her lip. What on earth could she want? Surely not food. She’d never seen Esme eat anything.

  “Do you want food?”

  The sprite shook her head and frowned. She seemed to be growing impatient.

  “Okay, well how big is it?”

  Esme gestured with her little hands. Dale could see whatever it was she was looking for was as big as her small fist.

  “What colour?”

  Esme put her finger to her lips and cocked her head as she thought. Then she pointed to the faded blue of a canvas bag and the white of the sail.

  Dale creased her brow.

  “And are you sure it’s on the boat?”

  Esme nodded.

  Dale suddenly realised what it could be. She unzipped her jacket and tugged out her pendant. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  Esme smiled and jumped up and down on the boat clapping her hands before dramatically wiping her brow.

  Dale laughed. “What do you want with it?”

  Esme clutched the crystal, seeming to admire it. Then she tugged with surprising force and the pendant snapped away.

  “Esme, what are you doing?” Dale shouted, her hand feeling her neck where the pendant had been. But the sprite had disappeared, with her crystal.

  “Esme?”

  There was no response.

  “Esme, where are you? Come back now.”

  Still no response.

  Dale frowned. What was she up to?

  As the morning wore on, the fog became thicker. The wind refused to pick up and Joy drifted slowly. Dale ate a small breakfast of the last of her flatbread. She fed Cat a
nd he munched on his food and then settled in for a grooming session.

  “I wouldn’t mind a hot bath myself,” Dale muttered.

  She had called for Esme several times since she disappeared, but the sprite did not return. Dale grew impatient. What did she want with the crystal? She wished she knew where the sprite had gone.

  Just then she heard a squawk in the distance and tensed. Cat looked up from his grooming, back paw suspended in the air. The squawk grew closer.

  “It’s all right, Cat, I think that’s a gull. But it must mean land is close.”

  Just as she said ‘land’ a gull flew by. At first Dale thought it might be Nancy, but it was too small and white for Nancy.

  She squinted into the fog and wondered how far off the land might be. The fog shifted and seemed to play tricks on her eyes. Sometimes she thought she saw the shapes of a distant shoreline – tall pine trees and mountain ranges, but then the fog would shift and she would blink, losing the illusion.

  Then she thought she saw a jetty that struck out into a bay. Could it be? This is exactly what it is like in the painting.

  Dale’s heart thudded. Am I here?

  She called out for Esme again, louder and louder. The little sprite refused to show, but Dale thought she heard a reply.

  She sucked in her breath.

  “Hello?” She yelled.

  “Hola,” came a distant echo. Was that her voice rebounding?

  The fog shifted. Cat stood on the bow. His head bobbed as he sniffed the air. He knew something was different too.

  There were trees and mountains in the distance and the fog shifted again. A jetty, white and wooden, came into view. A young man with blond braided hair stood on the jetty. He waved his arm and raised his hands to his mouth to cup his call. “Welcome to the Borderlands.”

  Dale’s mouth fell open.