by Simon Kewin
“No. I've only told Danny.”
Bethany giggled again, as if that were highly amusing. Then her seriousness returned. “Fer's stronger than you, much more practised in the ways of magic.”
“Yes I suppose she is. Does that matter?”
“You were easy to slip into. You didn't have a clue. You're better at defending yourself now, and it will be a lot harder with her, too.”
“But you could do it?”
“I could try. She might think I was attacking her, I'd have to be careful. But it would be nice to be home. All the others will be so lost and confused without me. Some of them were just children, you know.”
Cait remembered their raging fury as they attacked the rider at Empire Towers. “Yes. I know. There is a bigger problem, though. We're obviously on different worlds and the aether lies between us. I don't really understand such things. Is there any way you can make the journey? Being, you know…”
“Dead.”
“Yes. Dead.”
“The aether is a cold and lonely place,” said Bethany. “I've glimpsed it occasionally. It's endless, endless nothingness. A place you can get lost in and never find your way home from. The universe is mostly darkness, you know. Endless night with only a few tiny, tiny flames of light here and there.”
“The thing is there's a wood there,” said Cait. “Like, in a bubble all of its own. Fer used it to reach Manchester. The doorways are closed, now, but I thought, maybe, you could use that as a guide, from the outside I mean. A pathway through the greyness to get back home.”
Bethany didn't reply for a moment. She sank into the waters a little as if shrinking from Cait's words. “Such a long, cold journey.”
“Yes. I wouldn't ask, it's just that I think Fer needs help. And, also, there's a message I'd like to send her, and I don't know how else to do it.”
“What message?”
Cait hesitated. This part might well put Bethany off completely. Understandably so. “You remember the refinery?”
“The bad place where the fog suffocated you and you couldn't think or speak.”
“Yes. That. The thing is, we want her to go there.”
“Why would anyone go there?”
“It's complicated. That place, it sucks out peoples' spirits, collects them all together to send through a big pipe to the city where we freed all the trapped souls.”
“I heard them,” said Bethany. She seemed to recede a little as she spoke, as if moving away. “When we were there. So many voices. Voices in the pipes, crying out. So many people, lost and confused.”
“That's what we need to try and stop,” said Cait. “I don't know how, but if Fer could get there and somehow stop them, at least interrupt them, it might make all the difference. There's an army coming, you see. An invasion. And if they run out of Spirit they might, I don't know, crumble or die or something.”
“Yes,” said Bethany.
“You'll do it?”
“No, silly. I mean they'll crumble and die.”
“So, will you go? I'll be sorry to lose you, truly.”
Bethany still fussed at her doll. Then she sighed and looked up at Cait. “Yes, I'll go. I don't like it here. Neither side of the river is safe, not safe at all. I want to go home.”
“Will you go now?”
Bethany's arms fell to her sides. “Yes. I'll go now.” She began to sink into the waters, her eyes closed. “Good bye, Cait. It was nice to meet you.”
Cait wondered if she'd ever talk to the girl again. She suddenly didn't want to lose her, be without her, but there was no choice. “Good bye. Thanks for all your help.”
In a moment the waters closed over the dead girl's head, leaving only widening circles to ripple across the lake.
Bethany floated, clutching her doll to her chest. Below her, the girl she'd lived within, Cait, lay on her bed, eyes closed. Bethany looked at her for a moment. It was strange to see her from the outside. She was so young. But she'd grown, too, in these few weeks. And she had friends. That was important. But she was in such terrible danger that Bethany knew she might never see her again. She was jealous of Cait in some ways, jealous of her life, but she wouldn't swap places with her even if such a thing were possible.
“Good bye,” she whispered, although there was no one who would be able to hear. “Be careful, Cait.”
She floated away, through walls, over trees. A round tower stood nearby, and beyond that stood a lake of silvery water, shining in the moonlight. She'd glimpsed it through Cait's eyes. It wasn't like home. She did want to get home.
She drifted around the circular tower for a time, trying to find a way into the greyness between the worlds. A gap, a flaw. She'd slipped inside the aether before, more than once, but only as a sort of accident. It was like going to sleep. She tried to make the young ones she looked after go to sleep sometimes. She didn't really know why, but that was what you did with children. Sometimes it was easy, it just happened. But if you tried to make it happen it became impossible.
She floated for some time before the voice came for her.
“And who are you, girl, flying around our island in the dead of night? No one from this world I think?”
“I'm Bethany. What's your name?”
“I'm called Hellen. How did you get here?”
“I came with a friend.”
“Oh? And who might that be?”
“Her name is Cait. Do you know her?”
“Yes, I know her. I didn't know she brought you with her.”
“It was supposed to be a secret.”
“I see. So she carried you within her?”
“Yes.”
“Ah. Full of surprises that girl. I had no idea. So to do such a thing … you're related?”
“Yes. My mother came from this world many years ago.”
“You're Bethany Weerd.”
“Yes I am.”
“What wonders there are in the world. You survived all this time without fading away or finding release?”
“I was so angry! I died, you see. Me and others. We were so young, and it wasn't fair.”
“No, it wasn't. I'm sorry for what happened to you, Bethany Weerd.”
“It's not your fault, silly.”
“No. And what are you doing now?”
“I'm trying to find my way home, to help someone else in trouble.”
“Cait has asked you to go to Fer?”
“Yes. The other girl needs my help. It's very important.”
“Yes, it is.”
“You know Fer as well? You seem to know lots of people.”
“It's helpful to know about people, I find. If I help you, can you give Fer a message from me?”
“About the Spirit? And the refinery? I'm already going to tell her that. Cait said.”
The old woman who was speaking to her laughed, but it was a kind sort of laugh. “Very good. Her mother's daughter, that one. And her grandmother's granddaughter.”
“How can you help me anyway? I'm trying to find a way into the greyness. There's water all around and I can't fly over it so I'm stuck.”
“Let me show you a road to take,” said the voice of the woman. “I can open up a way for you. You intended to follow the shadow pathway the Tanglewood lies upon?”
“Cait said it will take me home.”
“Yes, she's right, but be careful. And don't go into the woods. There's a creature there that might … consume you.”
“I'll be careful.”
“Good. Here is the opening. Slip inside. See the pathway? Stay close to it. Don't stray or you'll be lost forever.”
“Yes, I know,” said Bethany. “I'll be careful. Good bye! And thank you, Hellen. You're nice.”
“You're welcome,” said the voice of the old woman, the little laugh in her voice again. “You're nice, too. And thank you. For everything.”
Once inside the aether Bethany paused. It was cold there. Not the cold of water or ice. That didn't trouble her. This was a cold that slowly leech
ed away your mind, your spirit. If she stayed there for long there'd be nothing left of her. She had to hurry.
The pathway was a silvery line, very faint, like a cobweb in the moonlight. You had to look at certain angles to see it. Sometimes it disappeared completely. Sometimes it crossed other lines. It was difficult, but she could see the wood Cait had mentioned. A smudge of shimmering green. Hunger emanated from the monster living within it. An insatiable hunger. Bethany didn't need to be told not to go near. She'd lived her whole life, and her whole death, avoiding creatures like that. Monsters who wanted to hurt her and consume her.
Beyond the wood, the silvery line continued through the endless grey. Here and there were tiny lights like stars. Only they weren't real stars. Instead of being above you they were all around, in every direction. The shimmering line she was following led to one of them. That was her way home. She'd be safer there. She could find the others, the little ones she'd looked after all this time, and make sure they were all right.
There was something else, too. A decision Bethany had come to. Perhaps it was Cait who had given her the idea. Cait had been so frightened so much of the time they'd travelled together, and she'd lost so much. But she hadn't given in. She fought back. What they'd done at the city of white walls, the way they'd taken on the Masters instead of hiding below ground. It was terrifying, but also wonderful. And that was what Bethany was going to do, too.
She didn't know how, yet. But it was time she and the others, all the trapped spirits in Manchester, came from their cold graves and took revenge on the Masters.
She reached the light the silvery line led to. Beyond was her home.
Yes. Sometimes you had to hide away beneath the stones, cower until the bad people had gone.
And sometimes you had to stop hiding and fight back.
5. Hyrn's Oak
Six of them climbed into Johnny's dazzling, painted ship in the early morning. A smoke-like mist drifted across the surface of the Silverwater, lit up into a pearly glow by the first rays of the sun. Cait pulled the woollen shawl she'd borrowed closer about her shoulders. It wasn't a look she'd have gone for back home, but right now she didn't care. She shivered in the cold air. The boat rocked as Danny stepped over to sit beside her.
She held out her hand to steady him. It was good to have him there, his warmth beside her on the boat's little bench. It felt weird not having Bethany's presence inside her any more. She hadn't slept well; she'd tossed and writhed through confused dreams in which she'd wandered inside a deserted house, passing from room to room in search of someone who wasn't there.
“Why are we sailing anyway?” asked Nox, sitting opposite her, his knees brushing hers. “Can't we fly or something? It'll take days and days by boat.”
Hellen was by Johnny on the bank, apparently conversing with the golden figurehead that housed the spirit of the mancer.
“I could,” said Hellen, casting a glare at Nox. “Possibly even Cait could. I think the rest of you might struggle though.”
“I thought time was short,” said Nox. “Can't you work some spells and give us all the power of flight?”
The scowl on Hellen's face was terrifying to see. “Yes, I could do that if I wanted. And then I'd arrive in the north exhausted and utterly useless.”
Either Nox hadn't seen her expression, or he was immune to it. “But we have to sail south before we can reach the An and head north.”
“True enough. But we can sail upstream quicker than the other witches can walk along the road. We'll overtake them soon enough. The earlier we reach Guilden, the better. Besides, I want to travel the river. See for myself what's going on. Andar is wide and beautiful, but most things of interest happen along the An, I find.”
Ran stepped into the boat with an easy grace, despite the pain his wounds and burns had to be causing him. He settled down beside Nox, eyes narrowed as if wary of attack. He looked like a caged animal in the narrow confines of the boat. He laid his serpentine sword on the planks at his feet. He'd polished it until it shone. It was beautiful in its own way, finely decorated, but Cait didn't like it at all. A blade like that could slice into you far too easily.
Once Johnny and Hellen were aboard they cast off. A couple of Islagray witches pushed them from the bank, but they weren't really needed. Smoke on the Water glided forward by its own means, floating through the wispy mists rising from the Silverwater. The six of them – Cait, Danny, Johnny, Hellen, Nox and Ran – watched in silence as the spire of Islagray Wycka faded into the fog behind them. Cait, fingers entwined through Danny's, wondered if any of them would ever see it again.
They reached Forness, the place Hyrn had left them, a day later. Smoke on the Water had brought them rapidly down the Gleaming, then turned right to head up the An. They sailed against the great river's flow, slowing their progress. Spumes of spray flew off the boat's bows as they chopped through the oncoming stream. Most of the time they clung to the curves of the bank, staying in shallow waters, although occasionally they darted across the mouth of an inlet rather than following its bend. No one spoke much, everyone worrying about what was to come. Cait spent a lot of time peering north, terrified of seeing the undain army again, marching down the river bank toward them. Or she gazed westward, across the An. The undain that had attacked Fer had flown across the river from Angere here. And the wyrm lords had said they had reports of other undain making the impossible journey.
Cait felt very exposed in the little bobbing boat on the open water. Would the undain come for her, too? They saw no sign of attack from either upstream or across the river. Mostly they saw people hurrying north on the road that ran beside the river, save where it looped around a hill. Heading for the Ice Fair, Johnny explained. Cait wanted to call to each of them, tell them to turn around, flee what was coming. But she doubted they'd believe her.
Once they'd landed at Forness, Ran and Danny went off to forage for what late berries and fruits they could find in the forests. Hellen came to stand beside Cait. “This is the exact place the undain landed. The point on the river they found Fer and she destroyed the winged one.”
Cait looked around, trying to imagine the scene. Everything seemed so peaceful. The river gurgled by. The last leaves of the year, dropped by the trees that overhung the banks, floated by like a flotilla of fairy boats, yellow as sand, red as blood.
“Why here?” she said. “Why does it always come back to here?”
“Forness is the closest point to the other land. This is where the ancient bridgehead was. This is why that's there.” She indicated the tower of Caer L'dun behind her, its top peeping over the treetops. Its crown shone, sunlight shining off high windows set in a circle.
“And do you know how Fer did that? When I fought the one at the Duke of Greygyle's I did it by finding a tiny spark of its former self within it, showing it what it had become. But Fer did something else completely. By the sound of it she ripped the creature to pieces.”
Hellen gazed over the waters, her forehead furrowed. “I have no idea. I wish I did. Clearly she wielded some power over the undain – something perhaps you, as another heir of Ilminion, could use as well. The two of you are the only ones ever to have fought and defeated an undain with witchcraft.”
Johnny wandered up to them, scratching the stubble that had formed on his chin. “That, ah, that reminds me of something actually.”
“It does?” asked Hellen. “Go on.”
“When we were in Manchester getting Mr. Shankly back, we were caught by one of the baddies as we were escaping. A powerful lord, not some mindless zombie. The one that caught you, I think, Cait. It had Fer. But then she spoke some words. Like a spell I guess. The effect on the undain was incredible. It sort of writhed and melted and after a few moments it was just a heap of bones on the floor.”
“What words?” asked Hellen with sudden interest. “Can you remember them? Their sound?”
“It was no language I've ever heard,” said Johnny. “They sounded, I don't know, sharp someho
w.”
“She didn't tell you what she'd done? What words she'd uttered?”
“No. Muttered something about a family secret when I asked.”
Hellen cocked an eye at Cait. “And do you know anything about this particular secret?”
“Not a clue,” said Cait truthfully. “Fer never told me anything about it.”
Hellen looked thoughtful. “So she spoke these words and the undain died?”
“Yeah,” said Johnny. “Wait. No. There was something else. She spat at it too.”
“Spat at it?”
“Yeah. I was kinda surprised, but the whole scene was pretty mad. The weird thing is I think she spat blood.”
“Blood?”
“Must have bitten her tongue or something. It hit the undain bang in the face. I could see the red in it.”
“And then it died?”
“Yeah. Like, imploded.”
Hellen looked troubled. “This disturbance in the aether is bothersome. I need to speak to Fer, find out what she did. Some memory must have come back to her. Or she worked something out.”
“Like what?” asked Cait.
“Hard to be sure. Ilminion … he must have made plans. Passed the words down to his daughter, explained something. But how? Weyerd was only a baby when she was brought here. She was too young to understand.” She was talking to herself more than Cait and Johnny now. “He must have suspected something might happen. He feared the King, feared some treachery, and he would have wanted to be sure those who came after him understood. Somehow his words reached Fer, down the generations. But where did he write it down?”
“Fer mentioned something about a locket,” asked Johnny. “A family heirloom, she said. You know she had that jewellery, all those chains.”
“A chain!” said Hellen brightly. “Yes, that might do it. The account said the baby had a chain around her neck. That has to be it. There must have been a locket attached to it. Perhaps only one of Ilminion's line could open it.”
“Wait, wait,” asked Cait. “You think Fer knew the words of Ilminion's rite? You think she spoke them here, and again in Manchester, and that was what destroyed the undain?”