The Harpy's Song

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The Harpy's Song Page 27

by Logan Joss


  ‘You found it!’ Trevor sank onto the riverbank with relief and exhaustion.

  Selmás trotted over and placed the pouch gently into his hands. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realize its importance. I had hung it up to dry and it slipped my mind.’

  ‘I’ve got it.’ He hugged the pouch tightly to his chest. ‘That’s all that matters.’ He unfastened the flap to look inside but the inner compartment was sealed at the top and the edges would not come apart, no matter how much Trevor pulled.

  ‘Squeeze the corners and push them inwards,’ Selmás said.

  Trevor did as he was instructed and the edges popped open. He peered inside, hoping that the precious journal had not been damaged by its journey down the river, but to his surprise, the first thing he saw was the velveteen bag that Ormostrious had given him. ‘Oh, I’d forgotten about that.’

  ‘It was in your pocket when I found you. The fairies removed it to make you more comfortable,’ Selmás explained.

  Trevor set the bag to one side and returned to Mèlli’s pouch. One by one, he took the items out and lovingly inspected them. The pages of the journal were worn but showed no signs of water damage and the ink inside seemed un-smudged. Relieved, he placed it down beside him and pulled out the map box. He turned it over in his hands a few times and put it on top of the journal, satisfied that it too was undamaged. Next, he pulled out a small stick-figure tied together with straw, which looked like it had been made by a child. I wonder if Mèlli made this? he thought. The next object he identified as a pipe flint similar to the one Burtlùs used. Then there was Mèlli’s trusty pocket knife. The last item was what looked like a silver locket, but when it was opened a holographic image appeared, showing a man and woman and a girl with tumbling golden locks. Trevor’s heart filled with sorrow as he saw how happy Mèlli looked with her parents—she would never have that again. He gently placed the familiar down in front of him, still open, unable to tear his gaze away from the sparkle in her eyes.

  Remembering the velveteen bag, he pulled the drawstrings and absentmindedly tipped the contents onto the ground. He pushed them around with a finger and counted five objects. Good, he thought.

  ‘A dragon finder,’ Selmás commented.

  ‘What?’ said Trevor, wondering what he meant.

  ‘The round object you have there. It’s a dragon finder.’

  Trevor picked up the needle-less compass and opened it. ‘This one? Ormostrious gave it to me.’

  ‘Yes. That’s the one.’

  ‘Ormostrious didn’t tell me what any of these things were, he just said I’d know when the time came. What does it do?’

  ‘I believe a point on the dial will glow in the direction of a dragon and get brighter as you near. Of course, I have never actually used one before.’

  Trevor thought for a moment. ‘So what are all these other things?’ He gestured towards the other four items from the bag.

  ‘I’m afraid I do not know. Perhaps you should trust in the wisdom of your friend, and know that all things become clear in time.’

  Trevor sighed. He scooped up all the objects and returned them to the bag, putting everything carefully back into Mèlli’s pouch. They made their way back to the trees and Trevor finished tending to his wound, sticking a new piece of bark over it with more of the ointment. He slung Mèlli’s pouch across his chest and patted it reassuringly before dressing himself again.

  The rest of the day passed too slowly for Trevor, who was anxious to continue his journey and find Mèlli. Selmás distracted him by bringing him nuts and berries to eat and telling him stories of the peoples and creatures of Ëlamár and of some of the adventures he’d had, including how he had come to meet Gráfan. As evening settled across the forest, Trevor began to relax and told Selmás some stories from his own life. He spoke about the death of his father and the guilt he still felt despite Mèlli’s reassurances.

  ‘She said it wasn’t my fault, but I’ll always know that it was. I’ll just have to learn how to live with it.’

  Selmás had listened carefully throughout the story. ‘Live with it is all you can do my friend, but don’t allow the guilt to consume you. Instead, use your experiences to make you a better, stronger person and in the future, you will not make similar mistakes.’

  They sat in silence for a moment and Trevor contemplated the meaning of Selmás’ words. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to draw strength from his experience. But then he realized he already had. Since talking to Mèlli about it, he had felt differently, but it hadn’t occurred to him until now. Is that what Selmás meant?

  ‘She kissed me…after I told her,’ Trevor said thoughtfully. ‘I was so shocked that I pushed her away. Then everything happened so quickly that we never got a chance to talk about it, and now I may never see her again.’

  ‘Do you believe she is dead?’ Selmás asked.

  ‘No, no, of course I don’t.’

  ‘Then you need to hold on to that belief. It sounds like this friend of yours has an uncanny knack of surviving.’

  That night, Trevor lay awake until he could hear the gentle sounds of Selmás’ snoring. Certain that his friend was asleep, he reached into Mèlli’s pouch and pulled out the familiar. He turned away from Selmás and curled up on his side before opening it. The three figures appeared, smiling at him. He smiled back, knowing that Mèlli had once been happy, and fell asleep comforted by the thought that perhaps he could in some way make her life happy once more.

  Trevor awoke just before sunrise to see the familiar still shining happily. He closed it and put it away quickly before Selmás could see. Trying not to wake him, he pulled himself up and made his way down to the river with the leaf cup to collect some water. After quenching his thirst, he paced about restlessly for a while but, having nothing else to do, he returned to the camp and started pointlessly to tidy the leaves that had been his bed.

  He was so anxious to start their journey that he considered waking Selmás, but, to his relief, the bayard stirred and awoke of his own accord. He saw Trevor watching him expectantly. ‘Good morning, Trevor. I trust you have not been standing there all night?’

  ‘Uh…no…I…um…’ Trevor stammered, before realizing that Selmás was joking.

  The bayard stood up and stretched before trotting down to the river to bathe. Trevor followed him. ‘So when can we leave?’ he asked.

  ‘Soon,’ Selmás said, as he started splashing around in the river.

  ‘How long will it take to get there? And how long will it take Gráfan to get to Aÿena? Will we get there in time for her to take me today?’

  Selmás finished washing and walked back towards the trees with Trevor following closely behind. ‘We will reach Gráfan before the high sun. But remember, she has not yet agreed to take you anywhere.’

  ‘You mean she might not even take me?’ Trevor worried.

  Selmás sighed with exasperation. ‘I’m sure she will—I would not be taking you to see her otherwise. Now, let us eat and then we will depart. But please, no more questions, at least until we get there.’

  When the time finally came for them to leave, Selmás knelt down and instructed Trevor to climb onto his back. ‘I am not used to carrying passengers, so please listen carefully. It is essential that you hold on tightly to my mane with both hands and keep as low as possible. We will be going very fast.’

  Trevor nodded and grasped hold of Selmás’ mane. ‘Okay, I’ve got it.’

  ‘If you need me to stop for any reason, tap me firmly on the shoulder. I will not be able to hear you shouting.’

  Trevor thought that Selmás was going a bit overboard with his safety advice, but he did as he was told.

  When Selmás was sure that Trevor was secure, he began to canter down the riverbank, increasing his speed until it became a gallop. Faster and faster he went until his hooves were clear of the ground and he began to ascend into the air. ‘Oh my god, we’re flying!’ Trevor exclaimed, holding on tighter.

  Once he was above
the treetops, Selmás increased to his full speed and the trees streaked by below him in a blur of liquid green. Sparks flew out from beneath his hooves as they pounded at the air. Trevor hung on in a mixture of terror and excitement and pressed his whole body down against the bayard’s back to make sure he didn’t fall off.

  The forest seemed never-ending. As he became more accustomed to the galloping motion, Trevor sat upright and looked around, but the force of the rushing wind threw him off balance, almost making him lose his grip on the long mane. With great effort, he pulled himself back down, his heart pounding in his mouth and his body trembling. As he lay there, a strange thought niggled at him—he had glimpsed something when he looked around, something that his mind was having a great deal of trouble processing. But it was not until he had calmed down that he dared to turn his head and check. He hadn’t imagined it! Selmás’ back looked twice as long as it had been before; four or five people could have sat comfortably upon it. It wasn’t like that before, Trevor thought. Then he remembered the cave drawing—the horse with the long back.

  Eventually, the forest began to break up, revealing rocky outcrops as the land rose towards a vast mountain range much higher than the one Trevor and Mèlli had crossed a few days earlier. Selmás galloped through a wide valley which swept upwards between two of the highest peaks until it leveled out into a wide bowl with broad terraces at its far end. He slowed and began to descend until they came to rest on one of the lower terraces.

  Trevor slid with relief off Selmás’ back down to the ground and immediately walked around the length of the bayard, looking at his back with confusion. It had returned to its normal length.

  ‘It is only while I am traveling at great speed that my back lengthens,’ Selmás explained, seeing the look of puzzlement on his friend’s face.

  ‘You’re the horse from the picture aren’t you? I mean bayard. In the cave, there was a picture of a bayard with a long back.’

  ‘Most likely. I know not of any other creature it could be.’ Selmás began to climb the gentle slope to the next terrace.

  ‘Wait a minute!’ Trevor struggled to keep up. ‘Why can’t you just take me to Aÿena yourself? You can fly!’

  Selmás stopped and turned to face his friend. ‘It is not flying exactly. It is somewhat hard to explain. Besides, bayards cannot travel in this way across large bodies of water.’

  They continued up the slope until they reached the top and Trevor saw what looked like the crumbled ruins of an ancient city with pillars and statues that had weathered and fallen onto the remains of grand, tiled floors. An eerie silence hung over the terraces.

  ‘Your friend lives here?’ Trevor asked. ‘It’s so quiet. It’s creepy.’

  ‘This has always been Gráfan’s home, but many millennia ago it was a thriving city.’

  They made their way along the terrace until they reached a doorway that had been cut into the hillside and was flanked on either side by large statues that looked like a man with the head of a bird. ‘Wait here please, while I go and announce you.’

  Trevor hung back nervously. As Selmás approached the door it slid open with a soft scraping sound and he stepped inside. Trevor craned his neck to see, but the interior was too dimly lit to reveal anything. He waited anxiously for what seemed like an eternity.

  It was in fact only minutes later when the door reopened. The creature that emerged was the strangest that Trevor had ever seen. He was drawn immediately to her human face, smiling and kind and framed by jet black hair tied into neat braids. But her body was not human at all. She resembled exactly the lamassu from the cave etching, with the body of a lioness and two large chestnut colored wings. She approached Trevor gently with Selmás following behind.

  ‘Greetings, traveler. I am Gráfan.’ Her voice was crisp and clear. ‘You have journeyed far and have survived many dangers to reach me.’

  Trevor was confused. He hadn’t been trying to reach her at all until today.

  I know why you have come to Ëlamár, Trevor Pondsbury. Trevor could hear Gráfan’s voice but her lips didn’t move.

  ‘Selmás tells me that you seek my help,’ she said.

  ‘Err…yes…my friend was taken to Aÿena. Err…Selmás told me that you may be able to help. That you are a great and wise being.’

  You will meet a fork in the road ahead. If you take the path that serves your own interests, the lives of all on Ëlamár will fade.

  ‘What does that mean?’ As Trevor said these words, he saw from the confused look on Selmás’ face that Gráfan had been speaking telepathically.

  ‘I will gladly help you, Trevor,’ she said aloud. ‘But I require something from you in return.’

  Trevor patted his pockets and then held onto the pouch around his chest. ‘I haven’t got much that I can pay you with.’

  Gráfan laughed softly. ‘You misunderstand. What I want from you is a promise. When the time comes, I want you to bring the deceiver to me.’

  ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘The one without family. The traveler with no home.’

  Your destiny is preordained, Trevor Pondsbury, you should not fight it.

  Trevor felt overwhelmed. He didn’t know which voice to answer. ‘Stop!’ he said, covering his ears with his hands. ‘Please, just one thing at a time.’

  ‘I am sorry.’ She touched a huge paw gently against his arm. ‘I need your promise, then we can go.’

  ‘But I don’t know who the deceiver is.’

  ‘The deceit will be revealed to you. You will know when the time comes.’

  ‘Why does everyone keep saying that? Why can’t you just tell me?’

  Gráfan smiled. Accept your destiny and fulfill it by being the person you know you are.

  ‘Okay, I promise,’ Trevor sighed.

  ‘Then I will help you. Climb on my back.’

  Trevor was surprised. ‘We’re leaving now?’

  Gráfan turned to Selmás. ‘You will await my return?’

  Selmás bowed in response. Gráfan knelt down and spread a wing to help Trevor mount her back.

  Trevor paused before rushing to Selmás and throwing his arms around his huge neck. ‘Thank you for everything,’ he said. ‘Will I see you again?’

  ‘I can guarantee it.’ The bayard gave Trevor a wink and smiled. Satisfied, Trevor climbed aboard Gráfan’s back and waved to his friend.

  The lamassu started to bound towards the edge of the terrace.

  ‘Hold on tight, Trevor,’ she said as she took a flying leap into the air and spread her enormous wings.

  She glided gracefully in a broad sweep over the terraces and, with the occasional beat of her wings, spiraled higher and higher above the valley. Selmás watched as they became just a silhouette against the blue sky. Finally, Gráfan arched her wings high above her back and they began to fall. In a blink of an eye, they were gone.

  30

  A Dragon In The North

  TEARS STREAMED DOWN Mèlli’s cheeks. ‘Trevor!’ she wailed, as she watched him being sucked beneath the surface of the river and dragged away. She turned, full of anger and hatred, drew a knife from a crewman’s sheath and hurled herself at Sklõff. ‘I’m going to kill you, you bastard!’ she screamed.

  Sklõff didn’t move. As Mèlli plunged the knife towards him, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it painfully, forcing her to drop the weapon. With ease, he pushed her away and struck her hard across her face, sending her sprawling to the deck. He crouched down beside her and leaned in close, his eyes full of malice.

  ‘You stupid child! Don’t you know when to give up? You may think you’re strong but by the time I’ve finished with you you’ll beg me to kill you like I did your sniveling parents.’ He leaned in even closer until she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. ‘But it won’t be that easy. I’ll make it last. Make you suffer. And I’ll enjoy every moment of it.’ He stood up. ‘Take her to the hold,’ he ordered.

  Four crewmen rushed to grab her, one on each limb, lifted her
roughly and hauled her below as she wriggled and fought to free herself.

  Mèlli hung like a rag doll, her hands and ankles shackled to the heavy wooden beams of the galleon’s hold. Her face was covered in dried blood and her head throbbed painfully. She had no idea if it was day or night outside; only the repeated visits by the crewmen and their harsh beatings marked the passage of time. Her clothes hung in rags and there was little left of her body that had not been kicked, punched or cut. The only thing that gave her some comfort in this vile place was the knowledge that she had told them nothing, despite their threats, despite the pain.

  The dull thud of footsteps echoed through the stale air as Sklõff strode angrily to see his prisoner. He had tried all his usual methods of extracting information—methods which had broken the hardest of men—but still she defied him. Now it was time for something that horrified even his own crew.

  Mèlli didn’t react to the metallic clang of the bolt on the door. She didn’t react to the sound of Sklõff’s voice. Her head just lolled from side to side with the motion of the vessel.

  ‘Wake her up!’ Sklõff demanded.

  A gnarly crewman, following behind him with a heavy bucket, quailed at the anger in his master’s voice and threw a wave of cold water over the prisoner. She startled awake with a gasp as the icy liquid stung her wounds.

  ‘Ah, you’re awake,’ Sklõff jeered. ‘In normal circumstances, I would admire your resilience, but unfortunately, I have no time for sentiment. Although I must confess, it does amuse me somewhat.’

  Mèlli’s level gaze followed him as he paced around the room.

  ‘Countless men have been broken within this hold. You, a child, have outlasted them all. But I’m not ready to give up yet—there’s too much at stake.’ Sklõff opened the top drawer of a chest and took out a pair of long leather gauntlets. As he pulled them on, he turned back to Mèlli. ‘Is there anything I can get you before we get started?’

 

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