by June Wilson
“Do you think she’ll be long?” she said eventually. “I can’t stand this waiting.”
“Who – Jess?”
“Yes of course Jess,” she snapped. “It’s driving me crazy. We buried her Toby. She was definitely dead. It was Mathilde who poisoned her and it’s not like she’d make a mistake, is it? So if Jess is here, and alive, it can only mean one thing.”
“Which is?”
“She’s been resurrected by dark magic. I hate to admit it, but there’s no other explanation. But who would do that – and why?”
Resurrection. Of course the thought had crossed his mind, but it was something he didn’t like to think about. Geraint had come back to life that way - Geraint, his real father, who’d had the chance to kill Toby but lost his own life instead.
“I’m sorry Toby, that was thoughtless of me,” Alice said, clearly divining his thoughts. She jumped up and gave him a quick hug. “It’s just that I’m worried. I knew there was a chance we’d run into dark magic, but I don’t know how to challenge it, not without Isolde and…what’s that?”
Alice and Toby turned at the same time. Someone was banging on the kitchen window. Toby saw a pale blob of a face pressed against the glass, its features distorted. Unless it was Josh playing tricks, it seemed Jess had kept her word.
MIDDENGARD
Chapter 16
At first glance, the Vale of Tears looked like any other peaceful Middengard valley. It lay between two mountain ranges: the tors of Idavoll and the Western Peaks. On leaving the land of the Fae, Ellie, Orla and the twins had followed the narrow path in from the west, forced to leave the wagon behind and double up on the horses.
Ellie knew she should have anticipated the loss of the wagon for the final stretch, but it made her uneasy all the same. If they were attacked now they would have little recourse to shelter, and they would have no chance of escape on horses that were already exhausted.
But perhaps she was seeing challenges where there were none. She reminded herself that conduct of spirits through the Vale was carried out under Freya’s watchful eye, notwithstanding the fact that Hel had jurisdiction in the realm itself. And Freya’s power had never been challenged - for hadn’t the Goddess survived Ragnorak, the battle to end all battles?
“It doesn’t look scary does it?” Daisy said, her voice carrying on the breeze. The twins were riding a few paces ahead, Rose with her arms round Daisy’s waist, both with their short daggers at the ready. Orla sat behind Ellie, so delicately she could almost forget she was there. The novice had barely said a word since her encounter with the Fae, other than to make a few reassuring comments to the twins. There was a new distance to her gaze, as if she was constantly looking at something out of plain sight. Whatever had happened with the faerie Queene, Ellie could only hope it would work in their favour.
“Well, we’re here at last,” she said, attempting a lightness of tone she didn’t feel. “And Daisy’s right – it doesn’t look scary at all.”
Ellie felt Orla’s grip tighten. “A glamour,” she whispered. “Look more closely.”
Startled, Ellie did as instructed. She’d never been fooled by such a thing before. Were her own powers failing her? She concentrated on the middle distance, blocking out all peripheral sights and sounds. And as she did so, the lush valley evaporated to reveal a barren chasm, with a fast flowing river running through it. Mist swirled at the river’s edge, allowing brief glimpses of stunted trees.
“The glamour makes it less frightening. Until the spirits reach the departure point and then – then it’s too late anyway.”
Orla’s voice held a note of sadness. The journey to the afterlife was supposedly a happy one. The Valley of the Dawn was the final resting place of the Gods themselves, from which all life came and all life returned. But this – this was a grim prospect indeed.
“All are offered a choice, once they are taken to the river,” Orla went on softly. “They can journey perilously to the Valley of the Dawn, or they can choose to remain under Hel’s jurisdiction. Not all spirits choose wisely.”
“No – I see that now.” Ellie chafed at the knowledge – and at her own stupidity. Her long years in Niflheim had taught her that the Gods were often less than benign. Even in death there was an element of choice and the Aetheling would enjoy watching such choices unravel. She was about to ask Orla if the earth power was present in this barren place when her companion let out a sudden cry.
“You need to stop the twins,” Orla said, pointing. Daisy and Rose, obviously fooled, were now galloping down the path. “They are ill-equipped for what lies ahead. Call them back. Please,” she added, as if she had just realized she had given a direct order.
Despite her surprise at the new authority in Orla’s voice, Ellie didn’t hesitate for a moment. She could feel it too: a sudden tightness in the air that was making her dizzy.
“Daisy! Rose! Back here – as fast as you can!”
Daisy pulled up short in a cloud of dust. The horse reared as she tried to turn, resisting with all its might. Flecks of foam fell from its mouth and its eyes rolled in agony.
“Run!” Ellie shouted, already dismounting. “Both of you!”
Rose released her grip on Daisy and slipped from the saddle. But her twin was still trying to calm the horse, the reins jerking in her hands.
“Leave him!” Ellie heard Rose plead, but Daisy seemed determined to master the animal. It was screeching horribly by now and with one last effort it bolted forward, throwing Daisy into the air.
“Daisy!” Rose screamed, as her sister fell to the ground. She ran towards her and had almost reached her when something moved out of the shadows, grey and shapeless. The thing took Daisy in its arms and disappeared.
For a moment Ellie couldn’t move. The world had gone silent; time had stopped. She felt her lungs constrict, as if a giant hand was squeezing the breath from her, gently at first, then harder and harder. Her vision clouded and she could feel the darkness envelop her, it was sucking her down and down…
She snapped awake, gasping. Rose was doubled over on the ground, sobbing. Orla was trying to comfort her, whispering and stroking her hair. There was no sign of Daisy or the thing that had taken her. But the image of the peaceful valley had evaporated and the land below them was grey and barren and forsaken.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Rose wailed. “I’m her twin. I can feel it here.” She thumped her chest.
“No, she isn’t,” Orla said. “They’ve taken her, but she’s not dead.”
“You know that?” Ellie said, more sharply than she intended.
Orla looked up and Ellie was shocked to see her dark eyes were now the palest blue, as if they had slivers of ice in them.
“I can see now – more than I did before.”
“The Fae?” Ellie knew about faerie gifts. They were powerful – but always came with a price. They may have tricked Orla, although she truly hoped not for the girl’s own sake.
“It was my choice,” Orla said, as if reading her mind. She didn’t offer any further explanation so Ellie didn’t press her. Thankfully the novice’s eyes had returned to their normal colour.
“Can we get her back?” she asked. “If she’s not dead – can we get her back?”
Orla looked into the far distance. “I can – but I must go alone.”
*
It had taken Orla the best part of an hour to persuade Lady Eleanor that she should stay behind with Rose. She could see that she blamed herself for Daisy’s loss. There was no point telling her that neither her sword nor her indomitable will could have prevented the creature from taking Daisy. Orla had foreseen it, just as she had foreseen the path she herself now had to take.
Orla wiped away a tear. She’d allowed herself a brief moment to remember the way grandmother had told her to beware the Vale. But the Vale held no fears for her now. She had accepted the gift of the Fae and her old life felt like it belonged to someone else. She was still young, as before, but also as old as t
he Middengard hills. She no longer drew on the earth power – she was the earth power. It was glorious and frightening at the same time.
Which was why she had to venture into the Vale alone. The truth was, she had no idea whether she had full mastery of the forces she could call upon. The possibility that she would be leading her companions into danger – danger unleashed by those forces – was not to be countenanced. She had argued, not unreasonably, that Rose couldn’t be left alone, and that Eleanor was the one best placed to fight off any new onslaught by enemies unseen.
She had left them sheltering behind a rocky outcrop whilst she made the rest of the way on foot. The path descended steeply and with every step light seeped out of the landscape. By the time she reached the water’s edge all was grey and drear: blackened tree stumps rose from the shallows and the once grassy bank was as dry as parchment. The river was deceptively still as it lapped the stony shore, but in the middle a great current roared. And where the mountain ranges closed off the valley, the torrent disappeared underground. Orla didn’t need her Sight to tell her it ran into caverns of endless depth that had never felt the warmth of the sun. Caverns filled by the tears of dead beyond number, as they journeyed from a life they had known to the life yet to come.
She shuddered and took a step into the water and then another. Already she could feel the current suck greedily at her ankles. Once she was waist deep there would be no going back. She would be the only living thing to enter Hel’s Caverns in all of Middengard’s long history. She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to Freya.
Time passed as in a dream. Orla saw her grandmother, who was baking bread in the kitchen of the cottage she had lived in when Orla was child. Her forearms were covered in flour and the heat of the stove had reddened her cheeks. You can prick the loaves Orla. A happy loaf is a holy loaf. And grandmother laughed, her cheeks dimpling at the old joke. Then she saw Isolde in her cave, laboring over her medicines, and Stanor with Iris on the battlements at Skellstor. And finally she saw Josh, standing up to Goran and being whipped for his pains. Josh. If only she could see him one more time.
She snapped awake and gulped in air. All around her was pitch black. There were rocks beneath her feet, covered in weed and slime. She was cold but not wet: her clothes, her hair, her arms and legs – all completely dry. She could hear water yet not see it. No longer a rushing torrent, it lapped gently behind her.
She reached inside herself for the earth power. Nothing at first, then a flicker of energy, warming her blood. Her senses heightened and she saw she was in a cavern of some magnitude and that she was standing on the shore of a foul-smelling lake.
“Welcome priestess,” a voice said. An ancient voice, with bitter cold in its depths.
“Where are you?” Orla turned full circle and saw nothing. “Show yourself.”
“I do not take commands from such as you, priestess,” came the mocking reply.
“You are mistaken. I’m not a priestess. But I have come here to treaty – if you will hear me.”
A laugh echoed round the chamber. “Treaty? You may as well ask for the sky or the stars therein, foolish child. But your innocence intrigues me. Come closer – we shall speak further.”
Come closer where? Orla was still completely alone as far as she could tell. The walls of the cavern were sheer and slick with water. There appeared to be no entrance or exit. Then as her eyes became accustomed to the gloom, she saw the walls were covered in murals, all with a common theme - death in various guises. Scenes of Hilderinc fighting elves and giants contrasted with scenes of total domesticity, with families blighted by illness. There were pictures too of what Orla could only assume was the human world – great cities with ruined buildings and strange bird-like creatures flying through the air.
“They have agile brains, the humans,” the voice said. “Yet they all bow to me in the end.”
Orla started. A figure had materialized in front of her. A woman, her form still swathed in darkness. Her grey hair hung in long braids and her face was pale but smooth. Her back was bowed and she held an ebony staff that gleamed with the darkest gemstone Orla had ever seen.
“Who are you?” She tried to keep her voice steady, even though she knew the answer to her question. This was Hel, Goddess of the dead and the dying, so named for the realm that Orla knew she had reached.
“You know who I am, Orla of Skellstor. As I know you. For I have seen you - as I have seen the priestess before you.”
“I keep telling you – I’m not a priestess. And Karin is very much alive, I can assure you.”
Hel smiled, her eyes sly. “I speak not of Freya’s temple. Freya holds no sway here. You are a priestess of the Fae – as was Isolde before you. Yet I do not fear her now.”
Orla felt the blood drain from her face. Hel knew. But there was something else in the deity’s words that had frightened her.
“Has something happened to Isolde? Please – tell me.”
Hel raised the staff. At first Orla thought she might strike her, but she merely flourished it in the air, so the dark stone sent out shards of light.
“Not yet. That future is mine to know and mine alone. But we must speak of you, Orla. For you are young and beautiful and you have command of powers greater than you yet know. Why have you entered my realm? What is it that you seek?”
Orla swallowed, gathering her courage. “I’ve come for Daisy – to beg for her life. I know you can return her, for the breath had not left her body when she was taken.”
“Daisy? Such a prosaic name. What is she to you?”
“My friend. And - and Rose’s twin sister. They only travelled with me to keep me safe. Her loss is my fault.”
Hel moved closer and traced her finger across Orla’s cheek. She felt as if a sliver of ice had entered her heart, but she didn’t cry out.
“And what will you give me in return Orla?” the Goddess said.
“My servitude. For one phase of the moon.”
“Four,” Hel whispered. “That is my price. Else I will take the sister too.”
*
“Daisy!” Rose ran towards the bedraggled figure that had appeared on the edge of their makeshift camp. “Oh thank goodness you’re back. What happened to you? I was so worried.” Rose broke off and burst into tears.
“It’s alright, Rose. I’m fine.”
Daisy didn’t look fine. She was deathly pale and despite her words, it was clear she was barely able to stand. Ellie snatched up her cloak and wrapped the young Guard in it, ignoring her feeble protests.
“Rose – we need a fire. Get whatever wood you can find – go!”
Casting another doleful look at her sister, Rose ran off. Ellie pushed aside her lingering concerns about attracting unwanted attention. Daisy was in a state of shock and she needed warmth and rest. If only they hadn’t abandoned the wagon. The healing plants would have been useful, if only for restorative purposes.
She settled Daisy in a hollow and covered her legs with a saddle blanket. Her breathing had become shallow and Ellie held a water pouch to her mouth.
“Here – drink slowly. It will help.”
Daisy did as instructed, the water spilling from her cracked lips. Then she pushed the pouch away and smiled weakly. “I think I’ve had enough. Remind me to avoid rivers for a while.”
“What happened Daisy? Do you feel well enough to tell me?” Ellie didn’t want to rush her, but it would be better if Rose didn’t hear. She was frightened enough already.
It seemed that Daisy was of the same mind. She cast a glance in her sister’s direction and, apparently satisfied she was out of earshot, leaned in closer.
“I never saw the thing that took me. There was no face, nothing. All I could feel was the grip of something cold and strong. It was horrible.” She broke off and shuddered.
“The next thing I knew, I was being swept along in a great river. I could hardly keep my head above water and I felt sure I was going to drown. I tried to fight the current, but it was n
o good, and I must have blacked out. The next thing I knew I was on land again, but what a place! It was worse than the fens south of Skellstor - marshland full of stinking water and spikey reeds underfoot. I was in a long line of people and they all seemed as confused as I was. Some were Hilderinc but most were human. A lot of them were crying and I have to admit, it was hard not to be scared, but I kept thinking about Rose, and about Iris, and I felt sure I could get back to them, if only I tried hard enough.
“Anyway, after a while, these guards came. Actually, they looked like sages, now I come to think about it. They wore heavy robes with cowls covering their faces. Which was good, because when I looked closer, I realized they didn’t have proper eyes – just dark holes.” She shuddered again. “Anyway, they were putting people into boats, like long canoes. They said we had to cross the Lake of Judgment. People didn’t like that, and some tried to run, but the guards stopped them, and told them it was nothing to be afraid of. Because they would have a choice when they reached the Lake and no one would be made to do anything they didn’t want to.
“I didn’t believe them and I was looking for a way out when two of them grabbed me. I thought they were going to put me in one of the boats, but they didn’t. They put this hood over my head and took me somewhere else – to a cave I think, it smelt really bad and I could hear sound echoing off the walls. They said I’d been saved, that someone had sacrificed themselves for me, and that I would be returned. Then they flung me head first into the water – and do you know what I heard? I heard Orla’s voice. She told me to give you a message. Then I just swam and swam, because I knew then I could get back to Rose. And here I am.”
She blinked hard as tears gathered in her eyes. Ellie put her arm round her and gathered her close.
“It all right Daisy. You were very brave. And it’s all over now. But the message – can you remember what it was?”
Daisy nodded but made no reply at first. Ellie was about to ask again when Daisy sighed and said, “It didn’t make any sense to me,” she whispered. “And maybe I didn’t hear properly. But I think it was this: Tell Isolde to look in the grave. Do you know what she means?”