by June Wilson
The second thing she knew was that when she looked into the Pool, she had seen her own death.
And the third thing she knew was that Isolde had seen it too.
The old woman was now on the other side of the cave, feeding a small fire and tending a pot. Ellie found the sight soothing and took solace in the patterns the flames cast on the wall. After a few minutes had passed in silence, Isolde pressed a stone beaker to her mouth.
“Drink,” she said in a voice that brooked no argument. “The pain will recede, as will the vision.”
Ellie had no strength to argue. She drank the brew and was glad it tasted better than it smelt.
“Was it the future?” she asked eventually. “Am I to die soon?”
Isolde shrugged. “You know it may be. Also that it may not be.”
“How reassuring.”
Isolde patted her on the back awkwardly. It was an unusually affectionate gesture for the old woman. “If it’s any consolation I’ve seen my own death many times. And yet I’m still here.”
“Indeed you are.” Ellie drained the last of the restorative. She felt better already. “I’d better go. I need to talk to Tom and Regil – Elok too. Now we know what we’re dealing with there’s no time to lose. Hel is our enemy here. She’s taken control of Helaine. Surely that’s what the vision means?” She got to her feet. She was a little dizzy, but that would pass.
“Wait! You’re always in too much of a hurry. We have much to discuss before you even think of talking to the Council.”
“What’s to discuss? I saw what I saw.” Ellie shuddered. “What a terrible place Hel is. I hope Orla knows what she’s doing.”
“Don’t worry about Orla. It’s Alice who’s in danger – or have you forgotten that?”
Ellie felt the room sway and she sat down again with a thud. “Alice? Why?”
Isolde let out a hiss of frustration. “By the Aetheling! So you didn’t see her! It was only my poor eyes that had to suffer that horror.”
“Didn’t see who? Hel? Of course I did. She was every bit as horrific as I imagined. And if she’s controlling Helaine, no wonder all these children are being taken. That’s what Hel’s hungry for isn’t it? The lives of children - it’s ghoulish.”
“Schoolroom nonsense – you should know better. Hel has a role to play, as do all the Aetheling. But she is not our enemy here, Eleanor. She’s only an instrument – even if she is too vain to see it.”
“Then who is? You’re talking in riddles as usual.” Ellie rubbed her temples. Isolde said she had been the one to suffer the horror – what horror? Maybe even now her Sight was being blocked. She fought back, calling on Freya to restore the memory.
It seemed the Goddess heard her prayer. Isolde’s cave faded away and Ellie found herself in Hel’s domain once more. She could see her own shade, shivering in chains. She could see Orla, the earth power a flame within her, and Hel, her face a mask of death. And then fear entered her heart like a sliver of ice as she beheld Mimir, the Goddess Freya herself had banished for eternity.
*
Hel had been so delighted by the appearance of Mimir, not to mention the humiliation of Lady Eleanor, that she had left Orla free to roam her underground realm until the next Doomsday. Not that it felt like much of a privilege as far as Orla was concerned. She had followed the river through one cave after another and although there had been changes in size and shape, there was little to alleviate the darkness. She had to stop herself thinking about the land she had left behind – the oak forests, the skalte grass waving in the breeze and the meadows full of wildflowers – not to mention Skellstor in all its dazzling beauty. If she weakened for even a moment, she knew her nerve would falter.
She sat down at the edge of a still pool and trailed her hand in the water. Something brushed against it and she was surprised to see a shoal of tiny fish, each one no longer than her thumbnail. So – there was life here after all. The realization was some small comfort. If only there was someone to talk to. Hel’s minions kept to the shadows and Orla knew she could not approach them – nor they her. Four phases of the moon was going to be a long, long time.
Feeling sorry for yourself girl?
Orla gave a yelp of surprise. “Isolde? Is that you?”
Of course it’s me. Who else can reach beyond the boundaries of the worlds?
Orla felt unwanted tears spring to her eyes. “I’m so happy to hear your voice. Well, sort of hear – I know you’re in my head.” She brushed away the tears and smiled.
Humph. In your head but very real, I can assure you. Now – Mimir. Tell me what you know.
Orla shivered at the Goddess’s name. “She appeared in Hel’s cavern. I don’t understand how. I saw her tomb. The Queene told me it was impossible for her to get out.”
Hmm. I saw as much myself. I thought it was a sending at first – but now I’m not so sure. Her power has grown since her banishment. I knew there was something afoot, but I let that business with Mathilde distract me.
“No one can blame you Isolde.” Orla said softly. Mathilde’s betrayal had blinded them all. “But how can she have escaped the maze? The Queene said the Fae would know if she stirred.”
I don’t know. And the Queene may have her own reasons for not telling me. We are allies of old, but alliances change.
“But it was she who told me about Helaine’s grave. Why would she have done that if she wasn’t trying to help?”
To remind me of my foolishness, no doubt. We should have burnt Helaine’s body whilst we had chance. Now she’s awake and slipping between worlds, looking for her son. You do see what that means?
Orla did but she couldn’t voice it. Mimir wanted the boy for herself – Jonas’s son and a child of her blood. A child that Freya herself intended to be hidden for all time.
“But what about Lady Eleanor?” she said now. She knew Eleanor’s death was only one version of the future, but Mimir’s threats had made that future very real.
She’s strong. Any one of the Aetheling can take her life away – she knows that. But she’d fight Mimir bare-handed if she had to. Isolde gave bark of laughter. What I wouldn’t do to see that fight!
Orla shivered. She hoped with all her heart it would never come to that. Perhaps the boy would never be found, despite the dark Goddess. Surely Freya would never allow it? She was about to say as much when she realized Isolde’s voice had faded away, leaving only oppressive silence. She was completely alone once more.
*
It was twilight by the time Ellie rode through the West Gate. It had taken another dose of the restorative before she felt strong enough to leave Isolde. She had never been faint-hearted, even when faced with all the horrors of Niflheim, but the knowledge that Mimir had broken free had filled her with dread.
Ellie didn’t profess to be a scholar like Elok or Gawain, but Stanor had warned her, all those years ago, that Jonas’s mother was a vengeful God. Fierce and proud, she had been disinherited by Odin and banished by Freya. Ellie hadn’t needed to be in her presence to understand that her hatred knew no bounds. She would not rest until she had destroyed Idavoll and Middengard with it.
And yet she had a weakness. She had loved her only son. And even though the human Adrian Winter lived, Jonas had been destroyed – destroyed first by Ellie and then by Alice. It was no wonder that Mimir was determined to make Ellie suffer. Perhaps that was the way she could be defeated – if Ellie drew her fire, she might be able to distract her long enough for others to act against her.
So Ellie mused as she ran up the steps to her private chambers. Tom wouldn’t like it, he’d tell her she was getting above herself, despite her bloodline. Then he’d try and tell her if anyone was to take on Mimir, it should be him, for the blood flowing in his veins came from Freya herself. Who better to stand against a recalcitrant God?
Ellie smiled at the thought. Men, they were so stupid at times. Mimir’s hatred was personal. All mothers were jealous when their sons found love elsewhere. Jonas had loved Ell
ie and she had spurned him – worse, she had denied him the Doom Stone. It might take time to convince Tom she was right, but she’d get her own way in the end. She always did.
Satisfied with this logic, she flung the door open. “Tom? Darling – I’m back.”
There was no response. She flung her cloak on a chair and checked the bedroom. It too was empty, the bed undisturbed as if no one had slept in it for days. It wasn’t unusual for Tom to be away – he had been on campaigns in the southern marshes for the last six weeks – but the strange thing was she hadn’t sensed his absence.
She lay on the bed and closed her eyes. She was so tired. Perhaps Tom was in a Council meeting. It was late afternoon and an unusual time for one, but Regil had abandoned some of the niceties these days. She should probably go and find out, but now she had lain down she felt it would be a great effort to move again.
Within seconds she was dreaming. She was back in Yorkshire with Tom. They were lying in the heather on the moors above Gorsedale. It was a spring day and the April sun was warming their backs. They were sharing an apple, a bite at a time, and laughing and swapping bits of nonsense. Ellie treasured these times – the few hours Stanor brought her back to the human world so she could be with the boy she loved.
“Here – have the last bite,” she said, shuffling closer so their bare arms touched.
“That wouldn’t be very polite of me, would it? You have it.”
“Okay.” She brought the apple to her mouth then threw it down. “Ugh!”
“What’s the matter?”
“A maggot or something - right in the core.”
“Really? Let’s have a look.” Tom reached into the heather, with the interest all boys had for disgusting things.
“No Tom – leave it!”
Ellie knew her warning had come too late. The worm grew and grew until it became a dragon, its hot breath scorching the earth around them. The moors dissolved into ash – the ash of the plains of Vigrid, where she saw Tom in full Hilderinc battle dress on his knees, his sword arm torn and bleeding. The dragon reared above him, its jagged teeth flashing in the sun.
“No!” Ellie screamed and woke up. She was sweating and her fists were tangled in the sheets, her heart thumping in her chest. How real the dragon had seemed! But such things were the stuff of legend. If they’d existed at all, they were long gone from Middengard.
The room was in total darkness now. She lay still until her heartbeat slowed. Then she heard a door open and softly close again.
“Tom? Is that you?”
No answer. Wishful thinking then. She got to her feet, realizing she was hungry. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d conducted a midnight raid on the kitchens. She was just re-fastening her cloak when someone grabbed her arm. She stifled a scream and swung round. But there was no one there.
“Who are you? Show yourself!”
Ellie stared as a ghostly form materialized in the centre of the room. It was a beautiful woman, with golden hair to her waist and eyes of palest blue. Her resemblance to Iris was striking.
“Helaine! What are you doing here?”
“I bring a warning, whilst I can. Mimir will not rest until she has taken all your family - all those bound to you by blood or loyalty. Stanor, my Stanor…” She broke off with a stifled cry. “Too late!”
“What do you mean? What’s happened?”
But Helaine had already disappeared, leaving the faint smell of roses lingering on the air.
ENGLAND – 1856
Chapter 23
“Let me go, you witch!” Will aimed a kick at Madame Varia and the medium howled in pain.
“Devil!” she shouted, raising her hand. But before she could strike him, Martha pulled Will away and bared her teeth.
“I challenge you,” she said. “In Freya’s name.”
The medium took a step back and the air fizzed and hummed as they held each other’s gaze. Jess was flitting from one side of the chamber to the other, biting her ghostly nails. Molly was hugging Will to her, covering his head in kisses. Toby made a move to help Martha but Alice held him back. “Don’t – I think this is a Guardian thing. I don’t know what they’re doing but we shouldn’t get in the way.”
Both women stood rigidly still. Martha’s cheeks were red with effort and a vein pulsed in her forehead. Madame Varia’s eyes were bulging, her lips bloodless. And just when Alice thought she couldn’t bear to watch any longer, Madame Varia disappeared, leaving nothing behind but an empty kaftan.
“Oh no,” Jess wailed. “Murdo will go crazy now. Alice – we’ve got to find him and get rid of him.”
But Alice was still trying to get her head round Madame Varia’s apparent disintegration. “Is she dead?” she asked Martha.
Martha wiped the sweat from her forehead. “No. But she’s been sent back where she came from.”
“To Middengard?” There was no point trying to hide things now. Molly and Will had already seen and heard so many bizarre things it didn’t matter any more.
“No – back to the Vale. And her mistress.”
“Wow Martha, that was so cool,” Josh said, kicking the kaftan with his foot. “There’s definitely nothing left of her.”
“She must have gone through the breach,” Alice said. “Helaine too.” She looked round the prayer room, light suddenly dawning. “This is where it leads, isn’t it? I suppose we should have guessed.”
“Yeah – the link to Freya and everything,” Toby agreed. “Did you know this room was here Martha – hey, are you okay?”
Alice turned to Martha in alarm and saw she had gone very pale. Blood had started to trickle from her nose. The Guardian let out a low moan and slumped to the floor.
Molly screamed and turned Will’s head away. “Is she dead?” she asked, white-faced.
“Alice will fix her,” Josh said, putting a protective arm round Molly’s shoulders. “Let’s keep out of the way, shall we?”
Alice was already searching for the Guardian’s pulse. It was faint - barely a flicker.
“Will she be all right?” Toby said, his face anxious.
“I don’t know. Whatever she did to Madame Varia has taken all her strength. I don’t know what to do – should I try the Doom Stone?”
Toby blew out a breath. “If it’s her only chance...” He didn’t finish the sentence. She could tell he knew what was worrying her. She’d never used the Stone to heal anyone before, only to destroy. But Martha was badly injured and didn’t deserve to die – and the Stone seemed the only answer.
“Look away – all of you,” she ordered, her mind made up. She gripped the Stone and held it over Martha’s heart.
Nothing happened. The Stone felt as it normally felt – neither cold nor hot. Bewildered, Alice thought about Lord Cael, and the instructions he had given her on the battlements in Skellstor. She hadn’t known the extent of the Stone’s power then, but he’d told her to be true. She couldn’t be afraid – all she could do was put her faith in the Stone and in Freya.
She closed her eyes to blot out Martha’s pale face and tightened her grip. Suddenly she could feel the Stone’s full power - power that was hers to control. Images flickered before her eyes in rapid succession – Helaine in a desolate valley in Middengard, Orla in a place full of dark water and Isolde in her cave, talking to Alice’s mother. Messages? She didn’t have time to ponder them now. Heal her, she commanded.
The Stone changed colour, flashing from brilliant emerald to deep azure, casting luminous patterns on the chamber walls. Alice heard Molly gasp and Will give a yelp of delight. Then Martha opened her eyes and sat up.
“Where am I?” she said, rubbing her eyes. “What happened?”
“We’re in the abbey,” Alice said gently. “You defeated Madame Varia and then you fainted.”
“Oh, is that all.” Martha got to her feet and dusted herself down, refusing Toby’s outstretched hand. “It take’s more than some trumped up medium to finish me off. Strong as an ox, I am. So stop staring at m
e, the lot of you.”
Martha might be strong but Alice knew that wasn’t why everyone was staring. The Guardian’s hair had turned completely white, save for a purple streak on the left hand side.
*
Josh was with Molly in Martha’s kitchen. They’d agreed that Toby and Alice would track down Murdo with Jess’s help. Molly was fussing over Will and Martha had gone for what she’d called a little lie-down. Josh suspected she was shocked by the change in her appearance but was too proud to admit it. He reckoned she looked pretty cool – like Isolde but a lot younger.
“I’m so glad nothing happened to you Will,” Molly said for what felt like the hundredth time. She wrapped her arms round him and kissed the top of his head.
“Get off us Molly!” Will wriggled free and took refuge next to Josh. “Women!” he said, rolling his eyes. “Always fussing over you. I hate it.”
Josh thought he might change his mind when he got older but didn’t say so. Mind you, Will seemed very cheerful given his ordeal. Perhaps he didn’t understand the danger he’d been in.
“Here – get this down you.” Molly handed them both a thick slice of bread covered in something she’d called dripping. It looked disgusting but tasted delicious. She joined them at the table and continued to size up her little brother.
“What did that Madame Varia do to you Will?” she asked. “She din’t hurt you did she?”
“Nope. Just locked me up in that place for a while.” He chewed thoughtfully for a minute then added, “She tried to get me once before. But Henry stopped her.”
Josh and Molly exchanged puzzled looks. “Who’s Henry? Is he your special friend?” Josh said.
“Course not!” Will laughed as if Josh had made a very funny joke. “As if he’d be called Henry! Henry’s a Guardian’s name – you know, Guardians - like Martha.” Will reached for another slice of bread, still laughing to himself.
“Now just you wait a minute,” Molly said, grabbing his wrist mid-air. “I’ve never heard about any Henry. In fact, there’s a whole lot of things I think you need to tell me. So how about you start from the beginning, eh?”