“Let’s hope he’s home,” muttered Will. “He’s got a habit of wandering.”
“He’s home,” N’tombe pointed to the boat that rested against the jetty.
“We’ll need to lead the horses,” I said.
We dismounted slowly, trying not to make a noise, but my tack jingled as I pulled on the mare’s bridle. As if in answer, there came a shout from the beach and the harsh scrape of metal: a sword pulled from a scabbard. One of the shapes on the cliff edge crouched and flung itself out into space, a twist of light on golden air. It glided onto the stones below and leapt on the man with the sword.
He screamed, a terrible howl that stopped abruptly as the winged monster pulled his head from his shoulders. I covered my eyes, wishing that just for a moment I could not see.
“Stop!” called N’tombe. “Let the others come ashore first.”
Too late. As though the first attack was a signal, down from the cliffs poured the shapes; some flew, like the first, others scrambled down the cliffs like giant spiders. Still others bounded in leaps that took them down the rocks in jerks, as if they were on springs. The men on the beach screamed. Again, I felt pity. Again, I pushed it away.
“God’s breath!” swore Jed.
Lifting my right arm in glowing protection, I held Will’s hand and led him gently forwards. N’tombe took Jed’s elbow and we shuffled slowly to the end of the track, along to the rickety jetty and onto the ferry that bobbed up and down in the rising tide. A golden net of mist lifted from the water and curled around the wooden keel.
“Rough night,” The Ferryman put his face close to mine, peered at me in the dark. “Princess,” he said, not sounding surprised. “Guardian told me you was coming.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Mist and Memory
As the boat slipped away from the jetty, the screams on the beach faded until all we could hear was the lapping of the waves against the wooden hull. My sight came and went, flickering between golden lines of energy and mist-wreathed black. I sank onto the wooden hull with a sigh. Will and Jed sat beside me, stretching their long legs.
“What,” said Jed, “was that?”
“Do you really want to know?” asked N’tombe.
“Perhaps not. But whatever attacked those soldiers, will it come after us?”
The Ferryman was a dark shape against the fog. “They will not trouble you here.”
“And you,” Will squinted up at him. “Will they trouble you?”
The man laughed, a dry sound without humor. “No.”
“The fae are bound to the land,” said N’tombe. “When the land is attacked, they rouse.”
“The fae?” I said. “But the fae aren’t real.”
“What did you think they were?” N’tombe sounded amused.
“I don’t know,” I said tiredly. Really, it didn’t matter what these creatures were, as long as they were on our side. And they appeared most effective protectors.
“Whatever they are,” said Will, “they’re our allies.”
I leant against him. Despite the terror of the beach, the concern for my family, I was enjoying his warmth.
“This was but a part of the army, though,” said Jed grimly. “There are more on the mainland.”
We sat, listening to the harsh grunting of the Ferryman as he pulled on the ropes. Ghostlike strands of mist touched my face and I felt as though I was passing through a curtain into another world. I settled into Will’s embrace with a sigh and thought of Rosa, standing alone in her tower. A vivid, pain-filled image; she breathed quickly and, beneath the pad on her chest, fresh blood oozed. She smiled and raised her hand to me. I roused, startled, as the ferry shuddered and grated on stones. Had I been asleep?
“Here we are,” said the man cheerfully, undoing the straps to drop the hull.
There was a faint clinking of coins. “Thank you,” said N’tombe. “You should return quickly. I think you will not have much time.”
The man nodded. “I know.” He looked at me. “Go well, Princess.” He touched the beads about my wrist. “Keep her safe.” They quivered, a trembling response. Or perhaps I was tired, and they did not move at all.
The horses stepped off the boat without argument. Stepping about so he faced away from us, the Ferryman pulled on the ropes, drifting into the mist. I watched him vanish, this last connection with my home. First the prow of the boat, then the man, standing firmly in the midst like a mast, and finally the white hull fading, mingling with the sea fog.
Jed sniffed the air. “I don’t like this.”
“Like what?” I said.
It was cold and the mist-dampened night was unnervingly silent. Rosa had said it would be dark; she was right. No moon, no stars, all hidden by the mist. The sand glimmered gray and ghostlike, but away from the beach all was black. I shivered.
“Watch!” said N’tombe, suddenly.
“I can’t see,” I wailed.
“Ssh!” Will’s sounded angry. “Not all the soldiers have crossed the straits.”
Will was right. TeSin would not have crossed the water. He would have stayed on the far side, watching. Desperately, I tried to see into the shadows. But I was blind.
N’tombe spoke softly. “Princess. You can see, you know.”
Of course. I blinked, trying to calm my mind, but oh it was so difficult when I was scared and tired. The beads on my wrist quivered and remarkably, I caught a song of consolation and hope. I concentrated on its faint sound, tried to remember the pleasure grounds and my leaf-strewn practice arena.
Like a sword fitting to a grip, I felt again the joy that sprang from tree to tree. Now, I saw only gold; the shine of the beach, the quivering lights that were Will, Jed and, brightest of all, N’tombe. The waves in front of me broke and shimmered in a blazing, wild dance. Across the waves towered the cliffs of the Kingdom. So small, infinitely precious, and yet the height of its cliffs and the dark figures that danced on their tops made it inexplicably powerful.
“I don’t like this,” muttered Jed.
“Move back. Away from the water,” whispered N’tombe.
We stumbled up the sand. An uncanny hissing broke the silence. First faint, like a streak of steam as a kettle begins to boil, but growing ever louder until it was a dreadful roar. Will looked at me, his lips moving, but I couldn’t hear what he said.
A wind sprang up, blowing into our faces. It smelt of summer: ripe cherries and honeysuckle. It whipped my hair into my eyes and N’tombe’s cloak flew behind her, giving her golden wings.
Stones rasping, the sea surged out, exposing the dry beach. The wind whipped the surf into mounds of fire that leapt and broke and leapt again. We clambered to the top of the dunes and looked across the straits. A great voice called. Light shot from the midst of the Kingdom of the Rose and arced into the sky, a blue, shining pillar that split the clouds. Roaring, the sky answered; sheets of water fell in torrents, cascades of golden light.
I thought I heard a chorus of voices cry in a loud voice: “No!” or was it “Go!” and I cried out too, at the sudden stabbing in my wrist.
Will pulled me to him, holding me around my shoulders, but I shook him off and wrapped my arm against my heart, holding it close as it throbbed. Then, desperate to be rid of the pain, I pulled the beads off, holding them in front of me, level with my face. Even with my new sight, I could barely see for rain poured like a waterfall from the sky, soaking my hair and running into my eyes. I rubbed my face with my free hand, shook my head like a dog.
The beads were alight with blue-gold fire, a circle of power that pulsed with my heartbeat. As if realizing its twin lay across the water, the bracelet strained toward the Castle, stretching into a hissing arc of light.
The sky cracked and roared again, and a bolt spat from the rushing clouds. I stood, encased in gold, holding my fiery line of light. The flame and its energy flashed, out, out from the bracelet of souls toward the Kingdom. For an eyeblink, an eternity, I stared at the Castle tower. Rosa’s tower.<
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A shaft of gold leapt across the gap between us and stabbed into her heart.
Rosa opened her eyes and smiled. I thought I heard her say: “Well done. Oh, well done, my child.” And then she was gone. The Kingdom, the land I was born to protect, disappeared, fading like a memory.
Standing on a dune top, I held a cooling band of beads. The wind died, the rain eased. The clouds opened and the moon sailed into view, flooding the world with pale light. Surging, the current roared in, filling the space where my homeland had been. Now, all was empty, open sea, glimmering in the moonlight.
The Kingdom, my home, had vanished. In its place was only the heaving sea and wild wind and the call of lonely birds.
“Come,” said N’tombe.
Chapter Forty
Unleashed
I leant heavily on Will. Every step was a burden and I could not see where to place my feet.
“What just happened?” whispered Will.
I shook my head, too tired to answer.
“Can you ride?” he asked.
I glanced back, but there was only the night and the mist hanging above the water like a veil. I nodded. If I had to ride, I could.
Will helped me onto the horse and removed my cloak from the saddle. “You’ll have to put it on yourself,” he said anxiously.
I could swing the heavy wool about my shoulders, I thought, and did so, nearly toppling from the saddle.
N’tombe pulled her horse up beside me. “Here,” she held out her hand. I thought she was offering me a draft of water from her flask. I shook my head. Enough rain had run into my mouth to fill me for a week. “Take it,” she said. When I touched her palm it was empty.
Or so I thought. A jolt like a bee sting spiked against my fingers. “Ouch!”
“Shh. Put the necklace back. Around your wrist.”
“Oh.” I’d forgotten the beads. I looped them back around my wrist. Like me, they felt cool. But the darkness appeared to be clearing and I could see the mass of trees, their branches moving in the wind. “What did you do?” I whispered.
She put her hands to her lips. “Enough to help you stay on your horse.”
Energy. As she’d given Rosa. I stared at her. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
If she gave away too much, would her heart stop? A sudden vision from my dream, the ruby lifting from the chest of the last Guardian as her heart stopped beating. Was that what happened to the Guardians? I thought about this, about energy transferring and the Guardian’s choice, as we moved away from the beach into the wood. N’tombe at the front, Will behind, leading my horse, and Jed at the rear. Jed’s arm gleamed in the dim light. A sword. He rode with a sword in his hand.
We rode until the moon was low, but saw only owls and a badger moving clumsily through the grass. Eventually, we reached the shores of a small river. Jed and Will unsaddled and groomed the horses and placed rough hobbles around their feet. The animals didn’t seem to mind, settling enthusiastically to grazing.
“I will keep watch,” said N’tombe. “You three, go and sleep.”
“There’s shelter under these trees,” Will whispered. “If anything comes near, you can climb into them. See?” He pulled my hand up, stroking my palm down a rough-barked bough. He was right; the branches joined into a platform, about six feet off the ground. Not a lot of protection, but better, I supposed, than nothing. I pulled off my knives, my bow and heavy quiver. Such a relief to be free of their bulk.
Still holding my hand, he pulled me down into soft, summer-smelling grass, now damp with dew. “Here.” He kissed me. “Rest.”
Even though he was near and his mouth was soft, I couldn’t help it. Lying beside him, my cloak wrapped about me, my head pillowed on his arm, I dropped into sleep.
* * *
The smell of roasting meat woke me. I rubbed my eyes, blinking at the grayness of the morning. I was hungry.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” Will squatted by a small fire, stirring it with a charred stick.
I stood, groaned. My hipbones ached. “Where are the others?”
“Watering the horses,” he gestured to the willows. “There’s a river. You want roast rabbit?”
“Not really,” I made a face, “but I suppose that’s all there is?”
He grinned at me. “’Fraid so, Your Ladyship.”
I kissed him, tasting the morning smell on his lips, and he toppled backward, groaning, pulling me on top of him. “Good morning,” he whispered, pushing my hair from my face.
“Don’t mind me,” said Jed, coming from behind a tree.
“You can go if you like,” said Will.
Jed wasn’t good at taking hints.
“Where’s the river?” I wanted to wash my face.
“That way.” He pointed at a track that snaked around the willows. “Not far.”
I tucked a knife into my belt. Maybe I’d cut my hair; I’d always wanted it short. Now it would only get in the way and Mother wasn’t able to stop me, not here, camped in a willowbrake.
Mother.
I turned, began to run back along the track.
“Dana!” called N’tombe. “Stop!”
I slowed, turned toward her. She was right; I could not run all the way to the beach. It was too far.
“There’s nothing to see,” she said. “Remember?”
I came back to the campsite. “I hoped it was a dream.”
She shook her head. “You know what happened. You helped, remember.”
“Rosa moved the Kingdom,” I said. Such an amazing thing to say aloud.
“To keep it from the Eternal One,” said N’tombe. “He cannot follow where she has gone.”
“Why does he want us? We’ve done nothing to him.”
“Why do rich men want anything? Because he is old and wealthy and cares only for himself. And when you are old and have everything, what would you most want?”
“Youth,” I whispered. She nodded.
I suppose the necklace could make you young. If you wanted to be.
She pulled my arm. “Come. The rabbit will be ready. If you feel like rabbit for breakfast.”
“Not really,” I said. “But that’s all there is.”
“That,” she said, “is true.” She put her arm about my shoulders and shook me gently. “Don’t worry. You have Will and you have me.”
“And Jed.”
“Him too. Come.”
Will dissected steaming rabbit and portioned it onto leaf plates. It tasted surprisingly good. Mindful of the enemy at our backs, we ate fast.
The track, muddy after the night’s rain, led along the riverbank. We saddled the horses, put earth on the campfire and left in single file. Mud sprayed from the horses’ hooves as we trotted down the uneven track.
“We’ll head to the tower,” said Jed. “Spy out the land.”
The beads about my wrist seemed to mutter.
“We have to defeat that king,” I said. “The Rose can’t return until he’s no longer a threat.”
N’tombe looked at me, smiled. “What?” I said sharply.
“You won’t need me for much longer,” she said. “You are becoming wise.”
What was she talking about? The beads about my wrist warmed, clinging to me like burrs to the hide of a horse.
“We’d need an army to defeat that king,” said Jed.
“Several armies,” Will was more comfortable on a horse now – his hands were low, his heels down in the stirrups. He didn’t look pretty; he slouched. But he’d be able to manage if his horse did something unexpected.
“Not an army,” said N’tombe. “A weapon.”
“You know of such?” Jed asked.
She nodded. “The Guardian can find it.”
Will clicked to his horse. “The Guardian has gone. Along with the Kingdom.”
“The Guardian remains,” N’tombe looked at me.
Rosa was the Guardian. N’tombe said I was wise. I wasn’t wise. I just did things and hoped they were right. I thought of Rosa, of
the great golden princess with a power at her heart. The beads shivered and inside my head I felt her, like an echo of my own thoughts. She was well, but oh so far away.
“All right,” said Jed. “A weapon then. You know how to find it?”
“I’ll know it when we’re near,” said N’tombe. “Weapons of power are conduits. My Aunt Zissi always said you could smell the wrongness. That’s what I’m after; a smell of wrongness.”
Jed snorted. “That’s helpful. A wrong-smelling weapon.”
The water was high from yesterday’s storm, with small whirlpools twisting on its surface. The horses trotted smoothly along the track and we had to duck low on our saddles to avoid branches. Finally we pushed through the trees into an open, grassy valley that sloped down toward the river. Above us was a low hill covered in scrub and topped with a stone watchtower. Just yesterday, we’d seen that same tower from the Kingdom. Only yesterday.
“Here it is,” said Jed.
“The Kingdom. You said Rosa had taken it somewhere?” I asked N’tombe. “Where has it gone?”
“What did I tell you of other worlds?”
“There’s more than one. They are layered like pancakes.” I smiled at her. “I liked that idea.”
“You like pancakes.”
For a moment I forgot I was a refugee without a home to return to and laughed. The laughter seemed to echo through the river valley. Another track joined ours, forming a Y. There were ruts in the mud. Carts. Carts had traveled here recently. Maybe a few days ago, after the Festival. Before the storm, though, for puddles had formed in the treads. In the willows a brown-speckled thrush sang, calling to its mate.
“Rosa has taken the Kingdom into another world,” said N’tombe “To keep it safe.”
“From the king?”
We entered a wide clearing as she nodded, agreeing. It was empty save for a fire that smoldered, blue smoke curling up toward gray sky. The thrush stopped singing and, with a flutter of its wings, flew off.
The SoulNecklace Stories Page 32