by Liz de Jager
The little girl claps her hands together and jumps up and down. ‘What boon, Mother? What boon?’
‘The thing your uncle Crow promised to ask Aelfric the Wise is a simple thing,’ she says, waving her hand airily. ‘All I want him to ask is for your mother to be released from the geas.’ Her smile as she looks at her children is sweet. But the gaze she directs at Crow is cold. ‘This cursed hell of ferrying the souls of the dead.’
‘Eilian, you know I cannot do this.’ Crow’s face is a picture of misery. He moves closer to the woman, his arms wide. ‘It is your birthright.’
‘Then you won’t be ferried across,’ she says decisively, moving away from him and turning to me. ‘You, human girl. Why do you have to go? If I agree to do this forbidden thing, you must know that you will not be able to come back alive.’
With my heart thudding in my chest at the way all of this is playing out, I nod. ‘I understand and I agree.’ I look over to the island, wreathed in mists at the centre of the vast lake. ‘I need to save someone dear to me from harm, and from being part of something that will destroy our worlds.’
Eilian tilts her head and considers my words. Her nod is swift and sure. ‘I will do this.’
‘Kit, no! You don’t understand what she means. You will die on the island.’ Crow’s grip on my shoulder hurts.
‘I understand clearly enough. I actually died earlier because Istvan attacked me. And I had thought dying would be a final forever thing, but I know I came back because I have to do this – help Thorn and stop the madness. And what I can say is that I’m so scared that I feel ill, but I must see this through. You probably think I’m mad and stupid but I promised to keep him safe and protect him and he was taken right in front of my eyes. I can’t not go, Crow. Do you understand? I have to bring him back.’
Eilian’s smile is triumphant as she turns to look at her brother. ‘See, baby brother? Some people know what to stand up for.’
She hunkers down beside her two children. The boy – no older than seven – is staring at his uncle with a fierce look. ‘Stay here with Uncle Crow and Mummy will be back in a bit.’ She presses a kiss to each of their foreheads before standing up. ‘Look after them for me, Crow. I’ll be back shortly.’
I hear a soft rumbling sound and turn to see a small coracle making its way across the smooth surface of the lake. It docks lightly against the sandy shore and cants to one side.
Crow moves forward and gives me a quick hug, placing feather-light kisses on both my cheeks. ‘Be safe, Kit. May your blade strike swift and true.’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The Ferryman: A person or creature who ferries the souls of the dead between the worlds of the living and the dead is not a new or unusual concept across most cultures. In Ancient Greek mythology Charon was Hades’ ferryman, carrying newly deceased souls across the river Styx. It is traditional to bury the dead with a coin in the mouth in order to ‘pay the ferryman’.
From an archived report filed in HMDSDI HQ, 1946
It feels as if I’m flying across the lake. The surface is mirror smooth. Over my shoulder in the distance I see the thousands of men and beasts Duke Eadric has camped near the lake and yet, if they’ve seen the coracle, they’ve not bothered giving chase. They fill my entire horizon, as far as I can see. The scale of the army makes me feel ill. There are roars from caged beasts and the sound of screams and laughter. It sounds as if Eadric’s army is made up of monsters rather than soldiers. I think back to Aelfric’s army camped in Scotland and I doubt it would be able to dent Eadric’s superior force.
Eilian sits facing me, wrapped in her grey robes, with the cowl up over her head so that it casts her face into deep shadows.
‘How is it that a human girl is trusted enough on a mission this important?’
‘Thorn is my friend. I have to help him.’ I shift under her watchfulness. ‘I made a promise. A Blackhart never goes back on a promise once it’s made.’
‘And you’re not scared?’
I give a dry laugh. ‘I’m scared beyond belief.’
‘You are interesting to me, human girl.’ She dips her sleeve into the lake. Something large surfaces beside us. It looks like a whale but it’s larger than I ever thought a whale could be. It turns an almost human eye on us before sinking below the surface again. I’m amazed that there’d been no ripple of water at all and I wonder if I’m starting to hallucinate. ‘Crow too seems enamoured of you.’
‘He helped me,’ I say to her, wondering what exactly her problem is. ‘I didn’t have to ask him. Or promise him anything.’
‘More fool he,’ she says. ‘That boy really should learn that the world is bigger than his forest.’
‘Boy?’ I say, unable to hide my surprise. ‘Crow said he’s been a forester since King Aelfric’s been the ruler of Alba. That must make him over six hundred years old. At least.’
Eilian shrugs. ‘He is a boy to me. And he will always be, no matter what great age we attain.’
‘What changed your mind?’ I ask her, leaning closer, catching her gaze with mine. ‘Something made you change your mind about bringing me across.’
She’s quiet for a few moments and all I can hear is the sound of the tiny waves slapping the side of the boat but then she answers me in a quiet voice. ‘I am bargaining on either you or the prince surviving. In fact, I’m counting on your survival, girl. It means you are in my debt.’
My eyes open wide in surprise. ‘You want me to ask Aelfric to lift the curse?’
‘It is a small thing, is it not?’ she asks in turn.
‘You told me that I wouldn’t return,’ I point out. ‘You also said that it was forbidden to take me across.’
‘It is forbidden to ferry the living across the lake. It never ends well.’ Her smile is wry. ‘But then I’m ferrying one human girl across to the Island of the Dead. The sorcerer has been using the island for his unclean deeds for years. One human girl brought back alive is a very small violation compared to everything he has done.’
‘Are you talking about Istvan?’ I stare at her in disbelief when she inclines her head gracefully. ‘Why have you never told anyone?’
‘Who could I tell,’ she says. ‘I ferry the dead. That is all I do.’
‘But surely someone could have stopped him – he’s evil!’
‘Is he?’ She watches me closely as my hand moves involuntarily to the hilt of my sword. ‘Is he truly evil? What if I tell you that his family once ruled the Otherwhere? Aelfric’s family overthrew Lord Istvan’s when they banished the Elder Gods. Perhaps he just wants people to remember. Aelfric and his family have been in charge for a very long time, Blackhart. Some Fae feel the need for change.’
‘And so what? You agree Istvan the Insane and Aelfric’s brother should bring back the Elder Gods?’ I stare at her incredulously and wonder how I’m going to get to the island. At this rate, I’m going to have to swim for my life when she decides I’m being impertinent and drops me overboard.
‘I do not,’ she says. ‘I support no one. What they do has no bearing on me. I serve Lady Death and she endures regardless of who sits on Alba’s throne.’
‘But they are going to destroy the world,’ I say, with emphasis, to make sure she understands.
Her silver eyes flash at me from the depths of her hood. ‘I am not of this world,’ she says calmly. ‘And I do not care for it.’
‘But . . . how am I going to ask Aelfric to lift your geas if he’s no longer the king?’
‘It does not matter if he is king or not; it only matters that he’s alive. He has the power to revoke my geas, because I had to swear fealty to him when he took power, like I did for his father, and his father’s father.’
I turn away from her, struggling to wrap my mind around how she can seem so apathetic.
‘This geas you’re under,’ I ask her. ‘What is it?’
For the longest time she doesn’t answer me and stares up at the night sky above us. I look up too and am amazed I’ve
not noticed the heavy star-scattered heavens above us.
‘The geas is like a curse, a spell, a promise that belongs to our family. In each generation one is chosen to become the ferryman of souls. The geas can fall on anyone within our family and it is something that is our family’s legacy, till the end of our days.’ She sighs and turns her liquid gaze on me. ‘I am tired, human girl. I have been doing this for a very long time. Can you imagine the toll it takes, wrestling with the souls of our dead, moving them on to the Valleys of Peace? Lady Death is my very close companion these days and I fear my time has become short.’ Her voice is sad. ‘My children do not know their father and Crow is incapable of caring for them. I would very much like to spend time with them before I pass.’
I peer into her proud face, see the anguish in her eyes and make my decision. ‘I will help you, I promise. I will ask Aelfric to lift this if he is able.’
Her smile is sad and she lays an icy hand on mine.
‘You have a good heart, human child. I wish you success in your battle against the Old Ones.’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The coracle smoothly settles on the soft black sand of the island. There’s a narrow strip of beach before the verdant undergrowth starts. I look at Eilian and she regards me quietly with big solemn eyes.
‘This is it,’ I say, desperate not to sound as scared as I feel. ‘Well, wish me luck.’
I jump over the side of the boat and my boots sink deep into the black sand. Volcanic sand. I reach down and touch it with my fingertips. It’s warm to the touch. I turn and look back at the faraway shore where I can just make out the thousands of soldiers in Eadric’s army. I feel the coracle move and Eilian’s standing by my side.
‘Are they here?’ I ask her. ‘Istvan and Thorn?’
‘They are here. All of them are here.’ Her cold eyes hold my gaze. ‘Be watchful, girl. Remember, there is more than one way to die.’
Something Aiden said to me comes to mind. I put my hand in my jeans pocket and take out the small velvet pouch. ‘A gift,’ I say to her, dipping my fingers into the baggie. ‘An expression of my thanks and my promise made.’
She accepts the two diamonds I drop into her palm but doesn’t look at them. Her nod is brisk but before she gets back into her small boat she leans forward and brushes ice-cold lips across my cheek.
‘Your bravery commends you,’ she says, sounding truly sad. ‘You do not know what you face, and yet you still run towards it. If all humans are like you, the Elder Gods will not rule as easily as they think.’
Her words frighten me but they also give me the boost I need. I turn and swiftly forge a path through the undergrowth, which starts a few metres from the beach. The coracle ride gave me time to rest physically, but mentally my mind’s buzzing. I’m starting to regret going it alone, but I had to follow Istvan’s trail while there still was one. But I want backup more than anything, and walking onto this island with no clue as to what I’m doing is one of the stupidest things I have ever done. And that includes facing down a group of redcaps, by myself, as they attacked a young Sidhe noble.
My pace quickens and I wish I’d thought to take one of Crow’s water skins with me. It’s hot on the island even if it’s still not quite dawn. I fling my cloak off and fasten it to my back with my belt, backpack style. My jacket I leave tucked inside an overgrown tree trunk with a handy cavity. Risk of discovery is low but I don’t want to take chances. I do my utmost to move the way Crow moved, leaving little or no sign of my passing, but it’s hard going.
The plants here are tropical and the air is thick with humidity. I left behind a damp, cool European-type forest, and merely by crossing a lake, managed to land somewhere that looks more Hawaiian to me. I check the iron rod fastened to my forearm and decide to leave it on. It makes my skin itch because it’s so warm but I’d rather have it and not need it than leave it behind. The same goes for my knife. The sheath in the small of my back isn’t quite comfortable but I’m not about to mess with it to try and reposition it.
I’m off again at a rapid pace. It’s been the most hectic twenty-four hours of my life, and all that excitement and only a few hours’ sleep makes for a tired and slightly broken Kit.
The island is beautiful and none of the vegetation looks familiar. I don’t know much about plants, I’m the first to admit, but my nan was obsessed with her gardens and I’ve picked up a bit. Looking around at these giant tropical plants and huge trees, I wonder if the island’s lain untouched by evolution since the Elder Gods were banished. A kind of Jurassic Park.
The thought creeps me out as I have a thing about dinosaurs, especially raptors, all thanks to the most successful dinosaur movie franchise ever. Give me redcaps instead any time of day.
I feel dwarfed by the landscape as I climb over large black rocks and jump over rapidly flowing streams with no clear idea where it is that I’m going, except that I need to get towards the centre of the island.
I push through heavy vines and duck beneath overhanging rocks slick with condensation. I’m so caught up with balancing and jumping, I almost fall off the edge of a steep cliff as the air around me opens up unexpectedly. Below me is a deep valley completely at odds with the rest of the island. The walls are sheer black rock and in some places it looks like glass. There is no foliage, trees or greenery in the valley itself.
Instead, I see edifices hewn from slabs of rock. There are several such structures, but the largest at the centre, flanked by two smaller buildings, must surely be my target – another clue being the impressive colonnade topped with snarling, fanged demons leading up to it. All three constructions are smooth-sided pyramids for the most part and look completely incongruous sitting in the crater below me.
The entire complex is built from black rock, polished to a high sheen. And the air is heavy and oppressive, as it is before a thunderstorm. I look upwards and the sky is turning shades of pink and purple; dawn is finally making an appearance.
My gaze drops back to the valley and I wonder how I’m going to get down there. There has to be a way but I’m not sure I have the time to find hidden passages. My sense of urgency spurs me on; I take my bearings and start jogging along the edge of the valley.
I don’t get far. A loud crash to my right alerts me to the fact that I’m about to be mincemeat. Even as I’m in the process of drawing my sword something heavy tackles me and there’s a confusion of pain, the smell of heavy sweaty fur and I’m tumbling.
I jump to my feet as soon as I hit the ground, shaking my head to clear it. My sword is out, my weight balanced and I face off against one of the goblin chimera. Its jaw drops open, revealing a wide maw and a row of frighteningly sharp teeth. A pink tongue lolls out and I get the impression it’s actually laughing at me.
It lifts a pelt-covered paw and lazily scratches its stomach as it walks around me, assessing me. There’s cunning behind its black eyes that I’ve not seen in any of the others that I’ve met.
I lunge at it with my sword, flicking my wrist, claiming first blood across its chest. It lets out a yelp of surprise at my audacity and drops to all fours. We circle each other and I am wary of those claws. My arm burns just remembering how much it hurt the last time – was it only the day before yesterday?
Suddenly, with a burst of speed, powered by those muscular haunches, the hybrid creature launches itself at me in a straight flying manoeuvre. I drop to my knees and flatten myself backwards, letting it fly straight over me.
I flick myself upwards in a mad acrobatic move Jamie relished making me practice. I grimace at my leg protesting at the stupid move, and run at the creature as it’s busy turning. I rugby-tackle it, gagging at the smell of it. I have my arm around its neck and I basically wrestle my way round its body until I’m half astride it. It leans forward and gives me a clear shot so I can stab it with my sword. Adrenalin is pumping through my veins at full blast and I make a complete mess of my attack. The stab I was intending he manages to deflect by running full tilt into a tree. I’m
launched high and crash down to the ground in a mess of broken ferns and foliage that, contrary to belief, is not at all comfortable to lie on.
But I’m up again and facing it. It looks a bit dazed as it charges at me, and it’s off kilter. I quickly realize that it must have hurt itself by ramming that tree and it’s surprisingly easy to sidestep its actual charge but I keep my sword in place and the hybrid’s momentum carries it past me. I watch as the blade cuts along its neck, leaving a gaping bloody wound. It makes a soft yelping sound and as I turn to look at it, all four legs collapse beneath it before it rolls over and dies.
I throw up in the ferns and wipe my mouth with the back of my wrist. Then I grab some foliage and wipe the blade of my sword, before sheathing it. I kneel down next to the creature I’ve killed, forcing myself to look at it. Something glints at its throat – a collar made from leather. The sharp studs are on the inside of the collar, pressing into its flesh. The wounds are rotting, and that’s what must be giving it that awful smell. I’ve heard about people training dogs to fight by using collars like this. The thought disgusts me and I almost feel sorry for the beast.
Chapter Forty
I move steadily in the growing heat, looking for a way down, ignoring the cuts and bruises and the ache in my leg. Occasionally I creep out of the foliage and check the cliff slopes. Three more guard patrols pass me by, they move in twos and threes and I keep low. I peer over the edge of the cliff and suddenly wish that I actually packed a backpack for my little jaunt to the island. The first thing Jamie always made us pack is rope.
I lie down on my stomach and peer further over the edge, anchoring myself by wrapping my hand around the roots of a tree. I reckon it’s maybe one hundred feet straight down into the valley itself. The rock walls aren’t as smooth as they looked. I can definitely see hand and toe grips.