by June Wilson
Ellie shuddered. She had spent twelve long years imprisoned in Niflheim and she knew what it was like to suffer. And whilst Freya had overall jurisdiction in Middengard and all the related realms, Hel was powerful. The Goddess was greedy for the misery of others, enslaving those souls whose longing for life suited her purposes.
Ellie’s thoughts slid back to the previous night’s conversation with Orla. Isolde had seen Jonas with a girl. What girl? The idea nagged at her. Could it have been Ellie herself? But if so, why not mention it? No, it had to be someone else – someone that Isolde was trying to protect. But who? The old woman had few friends and no kin, now Mathilde was dead. There was Stanor of course and…
Ellie almost cried out. She’d been such a fool! It was Stanor that Isolde was shielding – Stanor and his daughters. In the vision, Jonas had been by a lake and the beautiful lake of Glassmere was less than a day’s ride from Skellstor. Jonas had often ridden outside the city walls, sometimes disappearing for hours on end. What if he’d met Helaine, Stanor’s wife, on one of those excursions?
Ellie cast her mind back, ticking off the years. If Jonas had met Helaine the same year he’d tried to take Ellie’s Doom Stone, it would have been before Stanor and Helaine married. Was it possible there had been a romance between them? It didn’t seem likely. Jonas had been in love with her - or so he’d claimed.
Irritated, she took the reins from a surprised Daisy and urged the horses to a faster pace. Whatever Isolde’s vision had meant, she refused to think there had been anything between Helaine and Jonas. But Helaine herself was an interesting possibility. Stanor had told her the famous story of how he had first met his wife – the heroic rescue of a maiden who had upturned her boat on the lake. But Ellie had heard the rumours too – that the women of Glassmere were troubled; that they had been touched and then abandoned by the Gods. It was said that Helaine’s mother Enid had drowned herself, so who knew how that would affect a lonely daughter? And Helaine had died a few days after the twins were born, leaving her babies behind…
Ellie shook herself. Stanor’s marriage had been a happy one and the thought that his wife might be some kind of wandering spirit didn’t sit comfortably with her. It was no wonder Isolde was being cautious.
“Lady Eleanor – slow down!” Rose said suddenly, clutching her arm.
All too late, Ellie realized there was a log lying across the track, barely visible in the mist that had arrived with dawn. She pulled on the reins hard, but the horses reared, legs flailing. Instinctively Ellie jumped clear and saw the twins do the same, but the wagon overturned and landed on its side with a sickening crunch.
“Orla!” Daisy shouted and ran to the shattered remains of the wagon, Rose on her heels. Orla had been dozing when they left, still recovering from her ordeal at the pool. But now the wagon was wrecked, with the near side wheels beyond repair. The canvas roof had collapsed in on itself and the stone jars that housed the healing plants had smashed, scattering jagged fragments everywhere. Between them they tugged at the canvas frantically, finally ripping the entire roof away. But the wagon was completely empty.
“I don’t understand. What can have happened to her?” Daisy said.
“I’m not sure. But she must be here somewhere.” Ellie scanned the track, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety in her stomach. The trees had thinned out, giving way to stunted gorse and thorn bushes. As for the log, there was no way it could have fallen across the track by accident. First Orla’s near drowning and now this – it was clear someone was trying to stop them reaching the Vale. But the being that had beaten the earth power into submission at Odin’s Well was unlikely to resort to such obvious tactics as blocking the path.
“Look! She’s over there.” Rose pointed straight ahead. “At least I think it’s her,” she added doubtfully.
Ellie saw the outline of a figure in the mist. Someone of Orla’s height certainly, but her instinct told her to be wary. Before she could issue any sort of warning, the twins bounded forward.
“Orla! Orla!” Daisy was the faster runner and had almost reached Orla when she appeared to trip. Ellie just had time to register that she didn’t get up again when she felt herself in the grip of invisible hands, pulling her to the ground. Within seconds she was pinioned beneath a silver-threaded net and no matter how much strength she brought to bear, she was unable to break free. From the muffled shouts ahead, it was clear the twins had suffered the same fate.
“Struggling will not help you, daughter of the Gods,” a voice said suddenly. Ellie twisted her head in the direction it had come from, only to be met by a peal of tinkling laughter. At any other time the sound would have been enchanting, but Ellie was in no mood for humour, magical or otherwise.
“What are you?” she said through gritted teeth. “Show yourself!”
“Very well. But know that I do not take command from you. We are the Fae and we serve no one, not even Freya herself.”
A figure materialized, around three feet tall and slight of build. If Ellie hadn’t known better, she would have taken it for a white elf child – for its face showed no signs of age. Its eyes, on the other hand, seemed to hold the knowledge of centuries.
“You know of us, Eleanor of Middengard,” the faerie said and Ellie nodded. The Fae or faerie were the stuff of legend and she would have dismissed them as readily as she dismissed the idea of trolls if, years ago, Lord Cael hadn’t convinced her of their existence. She had been about Orla’s age at the time, when she and Jonas were in their first year of training at the Skellstor Academy. Lord Cael had been explaining the finer points of ancient language and lore and had extolled the virtues of the Fae as the first children of Middengard.
“But they’re not real!” Jonas scoffed.
“Am I real?” Lord Cael asked mildly.
“Of course. You’re teaching us, aren’t you? More’s the pity.”
Ellie remembered apologizing on Jonas’s behalf when the lesson ended. Cael smiled and told her to think nothing of it. “He’s rushing,” he said.
“Rushing? Where to?” They had no more lessons that day.
“To meet his destiny,” Cael said with a smile. But before she had chance to ask him what he meant, he took her by the arm. “Come with me,” he said.
Still puzzling, she followed him up the stairs of the north tower, to a small locked room at the top. Cael spoke to the door in a language she didn’t recognize and it opened of its own accord.
The room was lit by a single narrow window and was crammed with books and other objects: stoppered jars, glass domes encasing bright-eyed birds and parchments tied up in ribbon.
“Come over here.” Cael was standing by a large, glass globe on a mount. Its surface was cloudy, as if it needed a good clean. “You wish to know more about the Fae?” he asked.
“Why I – yes, of course.” Ellie felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck. Was one of them here, in this strange room?
“Then look so that you may see,” Cael said, pushing the globe towards her.
As he did so the dull surface Ellie had taken for grime cleared. Within the globe she saw a miniature wood, complete with tall oaks and mossy stones. A tiny stream fell over granite boulders into a shallow pool.
Her hand flew to her mouth in delight. “Oh! It’s beautiful. How did it get in there?”
“Keep looking, Eleanor.”
She did as she was told. Something appeared from behind a gnarled oak – a small creature, flitting between the blades of grass. Its skin shone like the scales of a fish, but she had the distinct impression it had legs, and that it was moving with the swiftness of a hunter. A second later she glimpsed the greenest of eyes in a face that was both young and old at the same time, fringed by silvery-white hair. The eyes locked on hers and changed to darkest black. She felt a sudden beating of her blood and fell backwards, landing awkwardly.
“What – what was that?” she said as Cael helped her to her feet.
“One of the Fae, Eleanor. You saw him and he
saw you.”
Ellie stared at him. “You mean - he’s in that thing too? The glass bowl?”
Cael laughed. “Of course not! The Glass of Sigur allows the chosen to see what is normally beyond sight. The Fae dwell in the most distant parts of Middengard and reveal themselves to few. This one granted you a great favour Eleanor.”
“But his eyes…” her voice trailed off. “It didn’t feel like a favour. He was kind of scary.”
“We only fear that which we don’t understand,” came Cael’s reply.
Cael had been so wise; she wished he were here to advise her now as she continued to struggle against her bonds, the faerie looking on in amusement. He was virtually naked, his skin gleaming like a pearl. And his eyes, turquoise one instant, black another, were inquisitive but cold as they flicked over her body. She wasn’t sure she could expect mercy from such a creature. And yet she had to free herself. She had to find Orla.
“We mean her no harm,” the faerie said, reading her thoughts. “You must trust us, God-daughter. We shall return her to you by nightfall. Till then, lie still. Your dreams will be sweet, should you choose to accept them.”
Suddenly all the fight went out of her. She just had chance to see that the twins had fallen silent too, and appeared to be unharmed, before she fell into the deepest, darkest sleep she could ever remember.
*
Orla had been dozing when the wagon overturned, dreaming she was in her grandmother’s cottage, watching the old woman bake bread. Grandmother was just about to hand her a warm loaf from the oven when she felt a harsh blow between the shoulder blades. Jolted awake, she realized she was somehow upside down, and that she had landed on a metal strut supporting the canvas roof. Except the roof now had a great rip in it and the wagon’s contents were spilled everywhere.
Dazed, she was about to wriggle her way out when she heard a low murmuring. Perhaps it was Daisy and Rose, come to free her, but these whisperings sounded strange, like excited children. No sooner had she thought this than she felt the touch of tiny hands on her arms and legs, a touch as delicate as the brush of butterfly wings, and within seconds she was borne aloft at dizzying speed. She glimpsed stunted trees and bushes as a wet mist fell damp and cold on her face. She tried to speak but found she had no voice, so she closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to Freya. Mother of all the Gods - save me and my friends and I will serve you always.
She must have passed out. When she awoke again she was in a thicket, dense with thorn bushes. Lanterns hung from every branch, sending needles of light into her eyes. She was aware once more of the whispering, and of something scurrying across the mossy ground. She sat up and pushed the hair off her damp forehead, then let out a startled oh of surprise.
They were all round her feet – tiny creatures, no more than six inches in height – some with goblin faces, some of startling beauty. And they were all completely naked, save the flowers bound in their hair or garlanded round their necks. She felt the earth power soar within her: the Fae, first children of Middengard, and normally hidden in plain sight.
Suddenly the whispers fell silent and a taller figure stepped out of the shadows. She was clearly female and a gossamer-like robe encased her slender body. Her hair hung in two bound plaits, falling almost to the floor and her eyes were a startling green.
“Fear not, Orla of Skellstor, for we approach you in friendship. We have gifts to offer you, if you will take them.” The faerie’s lips curved in a smile but Orla saw her eyes had changed to darkest black. It was well known that the Fae liked to play tricks. How could she be sure they weren’t in league with the Lady or even the monstrous force that Orla had encountered at the pool?
“You doubt me?” the faerie said, her eyes narrowing. “Here – take my hand. Call on the earth power – for the earth cannot lie – and neither can we.”
Orla hesitated. The earth power had failed her at Odin’s Well – would it now fail her a second time? As she grasped the faerie’s hand she felt her heartbeat quicken and then there was a cacophony of sound: the waves crashing on the shore in Niflheim; an eagle’s cry as it soared high above Tarnweald; raindrops as they fell on wheat in the Yerving plains and the roar of the wind as it buffeted the peak of Mount Odin itself. Her whole body radiated with it: the earth power in full force, strong and raw and beautiful.
“I have no doubts lady,” she said.
To her surprise, the faerie laughed – a sound echoed by the gathered court. “Lady? Nay, do not call me that. I put no store in titles – though some do call me Queene. As for ladies - there is only one of any import – and it is of her we must speak. If I lead, will you follow, Orla of Skellstor? For our gifts are well-hidden and not in this place.”
Orla hesitated once more. If she left with the faerie Queene it would mean leaving Ellie and the twins behind and who knew for how long? Legend had it that time passed differently in the realm of the Fae. For all she knew this could be an elaborate trick to prevent them from reaching the Vale and closing the breach. And yet these creatures knew of the Lady and perhaps of their unseen enemy too. It was a risk worth taking, one she was sure Ellie would take herself if she had the chance.
“Your friends are safe,” the faerie said quietly. “They sleep now. But stand assured, we will return you to them within the day – you have my word.”
“Very well,” Orla said, looking into the faerie’s eyes, which were now a bright turquoise. “Lead and I will follow.”
*
When Ellie came to it was almost dark. She shook her head, feeling groggy. She had been having the strangest dream – she had been captured by the Fae, who had taken her to one of their homes deep beneath the earth. They had bid her partake of a great feast and entertained her with music so haunting she could still hear its distant melody. For a moment all she could think of was how she might return, so she could hear that beautiful sound again.
She got to her feet unsteadily and looked around. The wagon, completely restored, stood by a thicket of thorn bushes and the horses were munching happily on what looked like fresh-mown hay. There was no sign of Orla or the twins. She was just debating what to do when the sound of running footsteps broke the silence.
“Lady Eleanor! Lady Eleanor! Are you okay?” Rose said.
“We’ve been asleep. We didn’t mean to – it just happened,” Daisy added.
Ellie held up her hand. The twins were still flushed from sleep, their clothing all askew. She didn’t have the heart to reprimand them for using her real name.
“It’s alright - I’ve been sleeping too,” she said. “ It seems we ran into the Fae, but they’ve been kind. Look – the wagon’s mended.”
“The Fae?” Daisy’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my.”
“And they fixed the wagon?” Rose narrowed her eyes. “They’re not playing tricks?”
“I don’t think so. They’ve even fed the horses.” Ellie gave a wry smile. Whatever it was the Fae had wanted it was clear they had been satisfied. The horses looked refreshed as well as fed, ready for another long day’s ride.
“But what about Orla? Where is she?” Daisy looked round nervously. “You don’t think they’ve – you know – taken her?”
It was clear that the twins had heard all the fables concerning the Fae. That men and Hilderinc alike could be lured by enchantment and held forever in the world of faerie. But Ellie didn’t think that was Orla’s fate. Her grip on the earth power was too strong for her to fall under such faerie charms, even supposing the tales were true.
“I’m sure she’ll be here any minute. She’s probably been sleeping too and…”
“Here I am Ellie.”
Orla stepped out of the shadows and the twins ran towards her, flinging their arms round her.
“Thank goodness – you’re not a prisoner after all!”
“Did you see them? The Fae? What did they look like?”
“Yes, I saw them. They’re tiny – smaller than the elves. And very beautiful.” She smiled then lower
ed her voice. “And they don’t wear any clothes. Or very little, anyway.”
“What – really?” Daisy’s eyes were wide. “The boys too?”
“Come on girls,” Ellie interrupted. The twins had started giggling and were clearly on the verge of asking more questions. But she didn’t want to spend the night in a faerie glade, even if they had come to no harm thus far. “Get the horses ready. There’s a full moon tonight and we can ride a few more leagues before striking camp.”
Once the twins were out of earshot, she turned to Orla. The novice had made light of her experience but she knew that was for the twins’ benefit. “They did not harm you?”
Orla’s eyes slid away from hers. “No – quite the opposite. They showed me something that will help us. But the Queene made me promise not to tell. I’m sorry, Lady Eleanor. I mean Ellie,” she corrected herself.
“Don’t be.” Ellie looked at her thoughtfully, considered searching her mind, and decided against it. There was something different about the novice, that much she knew. But it would be dangerous to seek knowledge expressly forbidden by the Fae. “You have already broken one promise and I won’t make you break another. I have complete faith in you Orla, please know that.”
Orla bowed her head but made no reply. Perhaps, like her, she knew they were closing in on whatever it was that was waiting for them at the Vale.
ENGLAND - 1856
Chapter 15
“What’s wrong with you then?” Molly was looking at her keenly. “You look like you seen a ghost.” Her mouth curled into a smile. “We all ‘ave – but you look sick. Scared are you?”