by A. Evermore
‘I saw them come,’ Edarna whispered, ‘terrors in the sky sent by Baelthrom,’ she swirled her hand in the air as if making a warding sign against evil. ‘They only come when they want something and what they don’t want they destroy. There was nothing I could do,’ Edarna blinked back tears. ‘This island is so small and I protect my house with a weak shield, the barest undetectable magic, so it looks only like more trees and dirt to the far-away eye. They did not see my home, thank the Goddess.’
Issa looked down into her lap and picked her fingers, thoughts of her mother and the massive Dread Dragon crowding her mind. She wished she’d never mentioned it. ‘Everyone is dead and all is destroyed. I fell into a… a Fairy Pocket, only I escaped.’ Issa stared unseeing, ‘though I wish I had not.’
‘Hush, do not say such things,’ Edarna breathed. ‘It is clear to me the Goddess has a plan for you, and for you to be here now it cannot have been a Fairy Pocket.’
Issa glanced sideways at the old woman, wondering how she knew such things, wondering whether to say more. Issa bit her tongue and stayed silent about the stone-ringed mound and doorway to the desert. Something about the older woman’s guarded expression told her that she too hid something.
‘Who are you that would know of the Goddess’s ways?’ Issa queried with genuine interest.
‘I am Edarna,’ the woman stood up proudly and put a hand on her chest, ‘and all Witches know much of the Great Goddess, much more than those foolish Priestesses that would damn our art.’ She spat, ‘Pah, what do they know other than “haughtinisseries” and “better-thans”.’ The older woman’s face reddened and a few strands of grey hair came loose.
Issa hid a smile ‘My name is Issa, and I have never met a Witch before.’
Edarna made a funny noise with her lips, clearly not surprised or impressed. ‘We keep to ourselves, mostly because we were all once Priestesses of the Temple and disagree with the digression of the practices. We are not looked upon favourably! We work in the shadows; our Goddess is the Night Goddess, the Goddess of the Oceans, the Goddess of the Dead.’
Edarna paused, seeing Issa frown, and then elaborated with an exasperated sigh. ‘Goodness me what do they teach people these days? The Night Goddess is one aspect of the Great Mother from whom everything comes and to which everything will return. Zanufey is the Goddess of the Dead; she leads us from life through death to Feygriene, the Goddess of the Light, of life.’
Issa’s ears pricked up and she caught Edarna’s eye watching her carefully. Issa dropped her gaze. ‘I know little of the Great Goddess or any of her guises, and I know even less about Witches and Priestesses, there are none upon Little Kammy.’
‘Oh but She knows you, She knows all of us,’ Edarna whispered. ‘Here,’ she said waddling off for a moment and then returning. ‘Have a sweet cake, you look pale as a wraith from the Shadowlands.’ She passed Issa a sponge filled with raisins. Issa thanked her and though it was almost too hot too handle, bit and swallowed, barely chewing the dense textured sweet cinnamon cake.
‘The flour is several months too old now, from when I last went to the Main Land,’ she said apologetically, ‘now it tires me greatly to get there, I blame the encroaching Shadowlands. It took me a day to get back and a week to recover, I vowed it would be the last.’
Issa choked upon the sweetened bread, ‘The Main Land? How do you get there? It’s impossible! Takes a big ship days or even a week at sea! Why are you here if you can get there?’ she said between chokes.
‘Oh I do not sail,’ the old woman chuckled and then her face went deadly serious, ‘You will never get me in a boat! Besides, no one can avoid Keteth or the Shadowlands. No no no, not me. On a favourable wind at night I fly on the wings of a gull. But to make myself small enough for them to carry me, yet large enough so they don’t eat me, takes some doing and at least a week of preparation. And the gulls don’t respect you for it. I was lucky to get the stupid bird to bring me home last time. And if they decide to take a dive for fish then you can forget about it!’
Issa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Can you teach me how to do it?’
‘Absolutely not! For starters you need to be three times twelve years of age, and my dear you are not that unless you have the Magic of Ageing.’ Issa shook her head sadly.
‘I thought not,’ Edarna mused, ‘And anyway you need to be a Witch, and that takes two times twelve years of training from a Witch four times twelve years old. And anyway it requires lots of stuff to make the potions and spells,’ she waved a hand past her face dismissively.
‘It takes ages to collect and is quite gruesome; eye of newt, wing of bat, scale of Dragon, you know, really nice things.’ Edarna paled at the memory, ‘Especially if you actually like the animal from which you are trying to steal its eyes. And besides, it takes energy out of you which you never get back.’
Issa had also paled, ‘Maybe I’ll think about it at another time then,’ she quickly decided against the idea and finished off the rest of her sweetcake. Issa watched the flickering flames of the fire silently whilst Edarna rustled around cleaning pots and pans.
‘You live here all alone don’t you?’ Issa asked after a long while.
‘Yes, best way,’ Edarna replied from behind the chair.
‘Don’t you get lonely? And if the Shadowlands are reaching here isn’t it dangerous?’
‘Nope never lonely, I’m too busy looking after the birds and this little island. I chose to come here two times twelve years ago to try to keep watch on the growing Land of Shadows, maybe to help keep it at bay, and to help those lost souls find a way out. A bit of a Way Shower if you like, though of the Witching kind,’ she grinned from over the top of the chair and moved her eyebrows up and down.
‘But this place is fading into the Shadowlands itself. Soon I fear I will become a Lost One like those I try to help. I pray to the Night Goddess that she will come for me before then.’
Issa wondered again at Edarna’s mention of the Night Goddess so rarely heard spoken of on Little Kammy. All the island folk believed in the Goddess, Source of all Life, for sure but they lived simply, had only one sacred dwelling place in the centre of the island and no Priestess or Priest.
There had once been an old Priestess on Bigger Kammy. People always went there to marry as a result, but that was five years or so ago now and Issa had thought little upon it. She was always too busy with Ma and the house and her work at the Smithy to spend any time pondering about spiritual paradigms. It seemed of late, in her struggles simply to stay alive, that such spiritual thoughts were never far from her mind now.
Issa noticed the cat still staring up at her with that strange grinning face and felt obliged to say something to it, as she did with most animals, feeling more at home talking to them than people, or at least more likely to get some sense out of them.
‘Tiniest lion, Seer of the night, guardian of Other-Worlds,’ Issa said softly, ‘and blue too!’ The cat meowed in response.
The old woman laughed, ‘A way with animals I see. Now that is the question you should be asking; why is the cat blue!?’
Issa stared at the cat’s fur, ‘For some reason I had assumed that all Witches cats must be blue!’
Edarna laughed aloud, ‘Indeed perhaps they should be. That rascal of a cat disappeared two days ago and when it came back this morning it had turned from black to blue!’ The cat purred louder, and grinned up at them both, as if enjoying a fabulous secret. Edarna’s face became serious and she stared into the distance muttering; either mad or wondering what to say, Issa thought.
‘Now it’s a funny thing…’ Edarna breathed and fiddled with her apron absently. Then she turned and dragged a wooden rocking chair from beside the wall closer to the fire and plopped her plump bottom down on it. It creaked loudly in protest. ‘Yes, a funny thing,’ she whispered, her eyes wandered from that far away place to settle upon Issa’s face, though Issa wondered if she could see her at all and instead looked right through her.
‘Tell me,’ Issa said leaning forward.
‘Yes…’ Edarna said, looking at Issa thoughtfully. ‘Yes I think I shall. I had gotten out of bed in the middle of the night. Maybe something awoke me; maybe I walked in my sleep, I do not know. I went from here to the ocean’s edge, expecting to see the wraiths walk the waters as usual, trying to come here but unable to penetrate the magical shimmer I put up each night to protect me and my birds. But there were no wraiths, not one.
‘Instead of the white light of Doon that should have shone that night I watched rise a massive moon from ages past, its blue light flooding the land and ocean, like it was cleansing the whole world.’ Edarna’s eyes were wide and Issa was sure she could see the blue light of the moon reflected in them and not the fire-lit room that should have been.
‘I fell to my knees in shock for I looked upon the blue moon of Zanufey from the Ages before Ages. The power was so gentle, so caressing of the spirit, and yet so strong and all-pervading. Like the force that ties all things to the ground, though no one can see it, like the tide that flows around Maioria, or the unseen wind blowing through the mountains. It filled me with joy, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that everything would be all right in the end.’
As Edarna spoke Issa imagined a massive blue moon rising the colour of the deep blue sea, its light cleansing the world of darkness, and within it a figure took shape, a woman robed in a cloak made of the night sky with stars and galaxies swirling in its folds.
‘But then the little me inside became fearful,’ Edarna continued, ‘for with that rising blue moon comes great change and no change was ever brought about without growing pains. And that’s all I remember. Then the cat turns blue and you show up,’ Edarna chirped with a shrug.
‘The prophecies speak of the Night Goddess’s chosen,’ Edarna added when Issa remained silent, lost in thought. ‘Though I forget which prophecy now, there are so many!’ Edarna’s voice filtered through to Issa but she barely heard her, being so caught up in her imaginings. ‘They called Her disciple the Child of the Raven, raven of course because the raven is Zanufey’s messenger and, being always a girl, they would become the Queen of Ravens.’
Issa’s attention snapped back to the present. ‘The Child of the Raven?’ Issa asked, remembering her forgotten raven friend and suddenly feeling that she stood on the edge of a very high cliff again.
Edarna peered at Issa as if inspecting her, she was sure her eyes flashed blue again as the old woman creaked back and forth on her rocking chair.
‘They say that when the world is in its darkest hour it is the Raven Queen who will lead us through the darkness toward the light. If one should fail then two others may be chosen before the path is closed, and if all fail then all is lost.’ Issa drifted into thought once more as Edarna whittled on, rocking her chair faster in excitement, ‘Pfft, I should think we will be seeing one soon, the state the world is in, and it seems to be moving faster now, set fully upon the path to its own destruction.
‘There is always much death where his hand touches. Baelthrom became powerful quicker than anyone had thought possible, thus our need is now great. He has been searching for all who might take on the mantle of the Raven Queen. Any child born of Wizard and Seer he finds he destroys, for he knows all about the Night Goddess prophecies, more even than do I.’ Edarna looked off into the distance and shivered at what she saw there.
Issa also shivered at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name and a wave of exhaustion washed over her.
‘There is so little I know of the world,’ Issa admitted, ‘my life has only ever been about Ma and the animals at the smithy, and Little Kammy. Now everything I know is gone,’ she stared into the dying flames within the hearth.
‘I am as one lost in an endless sea with no idea how to manage a boat. What hope do I have of ever reaching the Main Land?’ The tears in her eyes made the flames blur and she blinked them back, afraid if she cried now she would not be able to stop. To make it worse Edarna said nothing and only stared at the spoons in her apron. Then she got up off the rocking chair and put another log onto the fire.
‘You, girl, are tired and lucky not to have high fever,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘The Great Goddess works in mysterious ways and all things come in blessed right time and blessed right order. Why don’t you try to sleep, things are always much better after sleep.’
Issa nodded. She was indeed very tired, bone-weary they called it, tired to the very marrow of her being. Mesmerised, she watched the flames lick distastefully at the cold new log and then, as if changing their minds, wrap fiery arms around it. With the blue cat curled up on her lap Issa drifted off into a restless sleep and dreamed of becoming an old woman forever trapped upon a tiny island.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Spreading Shadow
Issa awoke in the dead of night. The only light was white light of Doon falling through the gaps in the curtains. The fire was out and it was cold. Edarna was gone as was the cat and the house was silent. After living through a lifetime trapped upon an island in her dreams Issa awoke with a desperate need to get off this one.
Now wide awake she got up stiffly, pulled on her clean dry clothes and tried to stretch out her sore arms, back and legs. On the small wooden kitchen table behind her makeshift bed was a bowl of apples and more sweet cakes. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of them and she stuffed another cake into her mouth.
The house was very small, the kitchen adjoining the sitting room was just big enough for the table, two chairs, and an oven which was a third the size of the one she and Ma had, and with only one hot plate whereas theirs had five. At the far end of the sitting room was an old bent door, which she assumed led into Edarna’s bedroom. At the back of the kitchen was another door made of thick unbent wood.
Issa headed toward the kitchen door. There she found her galoshes and fisherman’s coat hanging on a hook. She pulled them on and shivered under the cold heavy material. She needed to get out, she wanted to see her boat, as if seeing it would give her some hope that there was a chance she could get to the Main Land.
Issa stepped out into the cool night and quietly closed the door behind her. The air was still and moist and it seemed warmer outside than in. The pale moon of Doon sat just above the stubby treeline and looked to be setting soon. Its cycle was slower compared to the smaller orange moon of Woetala. Only Doon and a few of the brightest stars were visible for the air was misty and bouts of thick fog rolled slowly in the still air. The sound of the sea came from close by.
Issa made her way along a thin well-trodden path, her boots crunching on the pebbles as she walked, though she tried to step quietly. She ducked low through the trees, shuffled around the gorse and popped out quite suddenly by the water’s edge. She froze, thinking of the White Beast and Wraiths of the Shadowlands spying her. But on scanning the horizon there were only the low waves rolling onto the shores and a thick mist moving upon the ocean. To her right she could just make out the shape of her boat and let out a sigh, relieved to see it still there.
She tiptoed quietly towards it, fearful that any noise would alert wraiths or monsters. The boat was as she had left it and seemed somehow smaller. If a great merchant ship could not sail through the tides that swept towards the Shadowlands how then could she row against it in a tiny boat? She sank down onto the damp pebbles, hugged her knees to her chest and stared hopelessly out to sea.
Either Doon was lower in the sky than she had first thought or she had taken longer to get here for the pale moon suddenly set, casting all into near pitch black were it not for the dim light of the stars above. Issa’s heart beat faster and she stood up, thinking it wiser to be gone from the shore. The mist thickened around her or perhaps it only seemed that way in the dimmer light.
She remembered the lantern and reached into the boat to gra
b it. It was still heavy with oil. She twisted the knob and it clicked loudly but before it could light she decided against it, any light would surely draw attention to her though she kept it in her hand. On second thoughts she reached back into the boat and grabbed the blackened axe as well.
In the mist out to sea she saw shapes forming. The mist drew together into long thicker clumps to form tall figures twice the height of man but half as thin. Their clothes swirled in white ribbons about them, glowing with their own light.
‘Wraiths,’ she breathed, her breath sent the mist in front of her face into whirling eddies like smaller wraiths. Now the light was gone the dead were free to roam. She tiptoed back a few paces to stand just in front of the treeline, mesmerised by the figures that flowed as much as they walked above the surface of the water. They moved in all directions, seemingly aimlessly, some stopping as if to think and then moving in a different direction. The dead that have no place to go, she thought sadly. Their heads were bent down but in some she could just make out downcast eyes. A pang of pity struck within her and she understood a little of why Edarna was here, why she tried to help these lost souls.
The mist drew closer and their numbers thickened. Issa looked back along the way she had come. It was all pebbles and would be hard to walk without making a noise. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Still, it was definitely time to go. She took a step forwards and grimaced at the grinding noise. Holding her breath, she glanced back at the wraiths. They moved as before, seemingly not having heard her, if indeed wraiths could hear at all, she thought. But their numbers were definitely growing and they were nearing the shore.
Emboldened by their lack of reaction she took another careful step and another, doing her best to tread as lightly as possible. But as fast as she walked the night grew darker and the wraiths now swarmed less than thirty paces from the shore. Surely they could see her, she thought. Had she lighted the lantern they probably would.