by Alan Skinner
‘Miniver is not dumb! She’s smarter than you are!’ retorted Dot. ‘And I don’t love just Miniver!’ She slipped her hand into Copper’s. ‘Copper has been my father and mother and if you try -’
Amelia cut her off, her voice sharp and irritated. ‘You do prattle on, don’t you?’
Amelia stepped onto a rock behind her and then onto a ledge that ran around the wall of the cave to the back of the burning fire rock. All the time she kept a tight grip on Brian, putting him between her and his rescuers.
‘So who’s left? Brian here? Aunt Mag?’ Her voice changed to a sing-song mocking, like a child tossing taunts. ‘Kevin? Pathetic little Beadles who are no match for me. You’re all so pathetic. You came all this way to get the blue ice and failed. And you needn’t have come at all! You had the answer to the blue fire all the time, right in the midst of you.’
She fixed her eyes on Crimson.
‘So, it’s down to you, Crimson. But you can hardly move, can you? You’re afraid to move, afraid if you relax, the fire will call and you’ll go to it. How wonderful! A fire-fighter who can’t resist fire!’ Amelia’s voice became low and coaxing. ‘Why don’t you, Crimson? Why don’t you give in to it? Join the flames, Crimson. You’ll succumb eventually; you may as well give in now as later. And then I have a little surprise for your little friends.’
Amelia was right. Crimson did want to walk into the flames. They were beautiful and she heard the song they sang as they leapt and whirled, acrobats of fire. But she did resist; she held her ground and focused on Amelia. The part of her that was Bright and Wave held her back. Without them, she knew she would have given in.
‘Who are you? Why are you doing this?’ Crimson’s voice was even and hard.
Surprise flashed in Amelia’s eyes. She had expected Crimson to give in. The others would be no problem without Crimson.
Amelia had been moving slowly along the ledge and she now stood almost directly behind the fire. Brian felt the fire slowly roasting him.
‘Who am I? Your sister, of course, Crimson. I told you that on the river.’
‘You can’t be! You’re not even a Muddle!’
She laughed derisively. ‘Do we have to be the same to be sisters? Besides, what’s a Muddle but a messed-up Myrmidot?’ The confusion on their faces made her laugh even more.
‘You’re just like me, Crimson. You have a connection to this land the way that I have a connection to mine. And you have a connection to me. I felt it that night on the river. Since then, I’ve sensed you even when you weren’t near. And you can sense me the way I can sense you. Remember the first day you came to Beadledom? You and that blasted puppy. I was watching. The puppy knew there was something. You knew. Often, I called you, and you heard me, didn’t you? I nearly had you when you crossed the river into the mountains. I was sure you’d give in, that you’d join me. It was so close at the waterfall! But you managed to shut me out.’ She shrugged as if it was of no importance. ‘So I stopped.’
‘You stopped?’ said Crimson, puzzled. ‘Then what …?’
Amelia was startled. ‘Something else called to you?’
‘We all felt something as soon as we crossed into the mountains,’ said Copper. ‘Crimson felt it more than we did, but it’s been with each of us all the time.’
‘Oh, that,’ said Amelia. She seemed surprised at their ignorance. ‘That was the Guardian.’
‘The Guardian?’ said Copper. ‘What Guardian?’
‘The Guardian Mountains!’ exclaimed Grunge. ‘This used to be called the Guardian Mountains, remember, Crimson?’
‘Oh, so you do know something!’ said Amelia sarcastically. She pushed Brian closer to the fire. ‘Would you like to see what the Guardian does?’
The flames were scorching Brian’s face and hands. His clothes grew hotter, burning his skin. He struggled to break free, to get away from the fire. He kicked at Amelia and flailed at her with his fists, but she ignored his efforts and slowly pushed him towards the fire.
Crimson was perturbed. ‘The fire is the Guardian?’
Grunge leapt onto the ledge and started towards Amelia. Amelia gave Brian a sharp push, then pulled him back. ‘Stay where you are, Grunge, or I’ll roast him.’
Grunge stopped. From the corner of his eye he saw that Aunt Mag had moved to the other side of the cave and was approaching Amelia from the opposite direction. Grunge realised that Aunt Mag was getting ready to grab Brian if he was pushed into the fire. Grunge felt the heat and knew that Aunt Mag would be risking her life in vain. Once in the fire, Brian would be beyond saving.
‘Fool!’ Amelia spat the word at Crimson. ‘Of course it is! It protects you from outsiders. Imagine that feeling you have but a hundred times worse! But I found a way to endure it. I found its secret.’
Amelia let go of Brian. He fell and lay still on the ledge. Slowly, Amelia pulled back the sleeves of her robe, then raised her arms so they could see.
Blue. Amelia’s hands and arms were the blue of fire.
‘You have to embrace it. That’s its secret. You have to become part of it, let it become part of you.’ Amelia’s voice held a tremor of excitement, a quiver of anticipation. ‘The more I used the fire rock to burn Beadledom, the more I could feel it in me. As I watched my arms become blue, I realised the truth. I didn’t need the fire rock. I could become like the blue fire itself.’ She stepped closer to the fire. ‘I will step into the fire and it will become a part of me, and I a part of the fire.’
Crimson shut her eyes. This was wrong. She could feel the fire but it wasn’t the same feeling that she had felt – that they all had felt – since coming to the High Mountains. It beckoned but it wasn’t benign. It wasn’t a feeling of protection. It was a feeling of deception.
Amelia continued. ‘When I emerge from the fire, no one will be able to stop me. I will have its power. And I will have my vengeance.’ Amelia stood on the lip of the ledge. So close that her robe started to smoke. She was oblivious to the heat.
Crimson opened her eyes and stared in horror at Amelia.
‘No!’ she shouted. ‘No! You’re wrong! The fire isn’t the Guardian! Amelia -!’
Grunge lunged as Amelia stepped from the ledge. His arms closed around her and Amelia was carried backwards, away from the fire. They hit the wall of the cave. Amelia’s legs buckled but she managed to remain on her feet. And then she started to fight back.
She was strong and fury added strength to her blows. Her fists pounded into Grunge’s face. She kicked and scratched, and pulled at his hair. Grunge could feel himself falling to his knees and his grip weakening.
Copper and Crimson jumped onto the ledge. Crimson could feel the intense heat of the fire on Wave’s bare legs. They tried to grab Amelia but the ledge was too narrow for them to reach past Grunge. Amelia forced Grunge back until his heels were on the very lip of the ledge. She was going into the fire and she was going to take Grunge with her.
Crimson slipped between Grunge and the wall and grabbed Amelia’s arm. Amelia twisted her torso and her fist smacked into Crimson’s cheekbone. Crimson staggered back, straight into Copper. The Myrmidot reeled. His foot caught on a small rock and he fell. Frantically, Crimson thrust out her hand and grabbed Copper’s shirt, pulling him towards her, away from the searing fire.
Brian was aware of noise and movement on the ledge nearby. He opened his eyes. It took a moment for the blurriness to clear but then he saw Grunge on his hands and knees next to him. Amelia stood over Grunge, a wicked smile of triumph on her face. She turned on her heel, then stepped from the ledge into the fire.
A single, short shriek filled the cave. Amelia’s foot touched the rock and the blue fire consumed her instantly. The flames left not a trace of her.
No one spoke. They stared at the spot where Amelia had stepped into the fire. After a moment, Brian helped Grunge to his feet. Following Copper and Crimson, they moved from the edge and stood with the others. Grunge picked up Japes’s drum, then they turned and left the cave, th
e blue fire burning behind them.
*
Not a word was spoken as they trudged back to Amelia’s quarters. Amelia’s death had shocked them. They had never wanted to harm her. They just wanted to stop her. And although the threat she posed to Beadledom was gone, the damage she had already caused remained. Their failure to bring back the blue ice meant that another journey would have to be made. In the meantime, the fire rock would continue to eat the Land.
That they had also failed to discover why Amelia had been bent on destroying the Land weighed heavily on Crimson. Hate and vengeance were unfamiliar to her and she desperately wanted to know what had created them in Amelia. She could never imagine feeling those things. Even now, after all Amelia had done, even after trying to kill Brian and Grunge, she couldn’t feel hate for her.
They were in the living room Amelia had created. Copper and Aunt Mag were putting cream on Brian’s burns. His face and hands were very red, like he’d been lying too long on a beach in a hot sun. Dot had found a pair of scissors and was snipping the singed bits from Reach’s tutu. Miniver lay next to Crimson, who sat in Amelia’s chair by the fire. Kevin sat in his usual chair, quite alone, away from the others.
Crimson’s eyes swept the sparse room. ‘Whatever had driven her to leave her home and spend a hard, lonely existence here must have been very powerful,’ she thought.
‘She was wrong, you know.’ Dot spoke quietly, as she snipped a final thread from the tutu. ‘There, Grunge. But I think Reach will want an explanation.’ The scissors were clenched in her hand like a knife. Dot placed them on the table next to her. ‘We could have fought her. I would have fought her not out of hate for her, but out of love for the Land.’
It was if the young apprentice had spoken what they all felt. Crimson looked at Dot and held out her hand. Dot went to her friend’s side and put her hand in Crimson’s.
‘I’m sorry about your parents, Dot. I didn’t know. No one told us.’
‘I asked Copper what saddened you but he said your feelings belonged to you and it wasn’t his place to be free with them,’ said Aunt Mag.
Dot glanced at Copper. ‘I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me,’ she said. ‘But it was good to talk to Miniver. It made me let go of things I shouldn’t have held on to. And Amelia was wrong about hating myself, and hating the world. I blamed myself for my parents’ deaths even though I knew it wasn’t my fault. They’d often say how hard they worked to make a good life for me, so I would have things. They worked so hard, I thought it was always because of me. And I knew they wouldn’t have been at work that day if it wasn’t for me.
‘Copper took me in after they were killed. He was their best friend and looked after me. No, not just looked after me. He really cared for me. He helped me not to feel guilty. It was the anger that was hard to get rid of. I was angry because I didn’t want to feel guilty. Being angry is a hard habit to break.’
She smiled at Copper. He winked and smiled back at his apprentice.
Aunt Mag nodded. Her eye fell on Kevin, sitting in his chair away from the companions. ‘Kevin,’ she said gently, ‘what will you do now?’
‘I … I don’t know.’ He glanced around the cave. ‘I can’t stay here. I guess I’ll have to go back.’
‘Do you want to go back?’ asked Aunt Mag.
Kevin shook his head. ‘No,’ he said in a very small voice. ‘It doesn’t seem right, now, the way they treat us. We just don’t matter.’
‘You are welcome to come back to Beadleburg with us,’ said Brian.
Kevin’s eyes widened in surprised, then his face broke into a wide grin. ‘I should like that very much.’ He jumped off his chair. ‘Cup of tea, anyone?’
The room went completely quiet and seven heads turned to look at him. He had a lot to learn.
‘There’s coffee and a metal pot in my pack,’ said Copper. ‘C’mon, Kevin, I’ll give you a hand.’
Aunt Mag sat down at the writing table. Idly, she opened the book and flicked through the pages. After a moment, she stopped flicking and began reading. She read a page then went back to the beginning of the book.
‘Copper! Kevin! Come here, I think everyone should hear this, ’ she called, reading through the second page as Kevin and Copper entered from the kitchen.
‘That’s Amelia’s book,’ protested Kevin. ‘I’m not sure she’d like …’ He stopped.
‘This isn’t a diary, Kevin,’ said Aunt Mag. ‘She was writing a book about what she was doing here. She meant for people to read this some day.’
So, Aunt Mag read Amelia’s story. It was also the story of the land Amelia called The Place, which lay far away across the northern sea.
“My family is among the oldest and the most respected in The Place. From as early as I can remember, I have been taught what it means to be a Myrmidot and to fulfil my responsibilities to The Place. From the words of my mother and father, I have also learned that the Myrmidots have forgotten the duty they have to our way of life and to our land. We have become a lazy, weakened people who have lost their purpose and the knowledge of the true order of things.
I see our weakness and decline in a hundred different things: in the way we prefer pleasure over work; in our schools, where our Rules are questioned, instead of being taught as Truth. Our writers mock the past when they should respect it. We no longer build monuments to remind us of our purpose and our strength; instead, our engineers build only to please the people and only what is practical.
Nothing, though, shows our weakness like our relationship to the Beadles. They are small in mind as well as in body. They are like children and they were given into our care. Through our foolish generosity, we gave them their freedom. They still serve us, of course. We let them speak but we take little notice of what they say. Yet I fear our kindness has made Myrmidots forget the proper order of things.
I know it is the people of The Place – the true people, the Myrmidots – who give The Place its strength. The heart of its people is the heart of The Place. They nourish it with their pride and purpose. As their purpose diminishes, so does The Place…
We had once been sure and proud … I have devoted my life to restoring The Place to what it had been. Other Myrmidots, lazy and short-sighted, shunned me. They thought me fanatical and old-fashioned. Yet, my belief has helped me to endure their scorn …
Year after year was consumed by learning. I came to realise that in order to be as we had been, we had to rediscover the past. I sought to learn more of our history. I studied what we had been and how we came to be. Our library and museum became as familiar to me as my own home. In attics and basements I found forgotten clues to the past in the things people treasure, then put aside. It was in one of these attics that I found what other Myrmidots had forgotten …
And when I found it, I knew what I had to do to restore The Place…
From ancient, yellowed letters and maps, locked in a rusted boxes, I learned the story. Many centuries ago, a group of Myrmidots had set out to explore the sea to the south. They sailed until they came to a new land. Huge mountains rose straight up from the sea. They had tried to cross the mountains, but as soon as they set foot on their slopes a feeling of oppression and despair fell over them. Many retreated back to the ship; a few made it beyond the mountains to the valleys and plains below. Eventually, the few returned, with tales of a strange, unpredictable and lazy people who could magically transform themselves.
One more attempt was made. This time, a group of Beadles, who were then still in servitude, was sent to accompany the Myrmidots. None of the second expedition returned. Whether they were lost during the voyage or perished in the Land was never known. But the Myrmidots of The Place turned their curiosity in other directions. The Land became a mythical place, populated by a fairy-tale people who called themselves Muddles …
Those voyagers had passed through the mountains and found the Muddles in the plains below. And they had stayed. The Myrmidots released the Beadles from their bondage to let them dec
ide their own future. The Muddles had welcomed them all and offered them what part of the Land they wished, though the Muddles never settled too far from the river that flowed through the centre of the Land. Thus, the Myrmidots chose the west, where the land was suited to their skills at building; and the Beadles happily chose the hills to the east, which seemed fresh and new to them.
For a few generations, secret trips were made back to The Place and disillusioned or adventurous Myrmidots migrated to the Land, along with Beadles who had dreamed of being more than servants and clerks. The Myrmidots had built Bourne Bridge to welcome the newcomers. Gradually, the people of the Land grew in numbers and they no longer looked north for new settlers. The secret trips became more infrequent and further apart until no one thought to go ever again. And as the Land faded from the memory of the Myrmidots in The Place, so The Place faded from the memory of the people in the Land.
I knew then what had caused our decline. Like a wounded body, we had been weakened by the loss of our blood. The Place would never be what is once was until all Myrmidots were once more back in its arms…
I resolved to go to the Land and persuade the Myrmidots to return to their true home… I was so sure. Sure that the spirit of The Place still lived in the hearts of the voyagers’ descendants. Sure that they must feel incomplete. Sure that they would be grateful when I explained how they could be whole once more. And they would come back to The Place with me.
I kept my plans to myself, knowing none would believe me in The Place. All would scoff and laugh at me. Thus, I made my preparations alone. I had wealth; buying a small ship and months of supplies was easy. Taking only my servant, that pathetic Beadle Kevin, and using the old maps, I made my way to the Land.
The mountains nearly defeated me… They guard the Land as securely as the walls of the mightiest fortress. They sap the strength from one’s bones and the will from one’s mind. Only my determination to succeed made me resist the despair they created in me.