by Nancy M Bell
“Ah, Cormoran. You’ve come just in time,” Vear greeted the new arrival.
“So it would seem, so it would seem. I’m not interrupting, am I?
Bella focused on the speaker. His tall frame filled the opening and blocked the light. She gasped when he dipped his head to avoid hitting the high opening as he entered the cavern. The newcomer towered over Vear Du and he was a very tall selkie. Bella searched her mind for something say, but couldn’t find the words.
“It’s a good thing you arrived when you did, my friend.” Vear slapped the man on the arm. “Arabella Angarrick, this is Cormoron of the Mount. As you can see, Corm is one of the last Cornish giants.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she managed to squeak out.
“You know where to take her?” Vear spoke over her head.
“Aye, I have a place.” The tall man nodded his hoary head.
“Take who where?” Bella demanded.
“Do you wish to know what hidey hole I am planning to stash her in?” Cormoran replied as if she hadn’t spoken.
“No, best I don’t know where she is. If the Council asks I can say I do not know without them catching me in a lie.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Bella shoved in between the two men.
A deep sound reverberated through the rock of the cavern before an old man in a cloak materialized. “Vear Du, selkie. The Council of Cornwall summons you to attend a hearing. I am charged to bring the daughter of Eve with you, if she be here still. You know the penalty, she must be sacrificed so she cannot share the secrets of our kind.”
“No,” Vear spat the word. “She is not going anywhere near the Council.” He waved a hand behind his back at Cormoran.
Bella opened her mouth to give the visitor a piece of her mind. A large hand smothered her voice in her throat. He towed her toward the entrance and before she could win her way through, the large man took a step sideways. Her head swam and stars danced before her eyes. The contents of her stomach forced its way upward. She landed with a thump on her bottom.
“Where are we?” she demanded.
“On Carn les Boel, for the moment,” the giant answered her.
“We aren’t staying here, are we? There’s no shelter … unless there’s another cave….”
“Aye, this is not our destination. The energies here will help throw any who seek to follow off our trail.”
“Take me back to Vear. I don’t want to hide somewhere and let him take all the blame.”
“Do you wish to die?” He regarded her sternly. “That would only make things worse for my friend.”
“They can’t kill me, they wouldn’t. There must be rules….”
“Like the rules you took into your head to break?”
“That was different—”
“Is it? Ah, you’re here finally.”
Gwin Scawen appeared by the huge boulder balanced on the cliff top. “Rialobran has already collected the selkie and escorted him to the Council.” He wrung his long fingers.
“The only thing we can do for him now, is protect this daughter of Eve. Here child, give me a lock of your hair and a bit of cloth from your shirt.”
“What?” Bella blinked in confusion.
Gwin scampered over and snipped a bit of her hair with a pair of golden sheers. Nimble fingers tore a piece off her shirttail. “Got it,” he crowed.
“Well and good,” Cormoran declared. “Now I can move on to the hiding place.”
“Give me a few minutes head start,” Gwin said. “I’ll lay a false trail up and down the coast. You away with Mistress Bella and keep her safe.”
“Wait! Can you tell Sarie I’m safe? Can you bring her to me?” Bella cried.
Gwin Scawen shrugged his shoulders and glanced at Corm for direction. Bushy eyebrows beetled together as he frowned.
“Aye, I suppose once we have you secured and the hunt has lost its zeal we can risk bringing your friend to you. But now, come. We must be off.”
“Gwin, tell Sarie I’m fine. Go help Vear if you can….” she trailed off, the piskie flicked out of sight.
“Take my hand, Arabella.” Cormoran extended his arm.
With some reservations, she put her hand into his. The giant took a step and Bella gasped. There was no way one step could cover that much distance, not even if you were a giant. Cormoran continued across the moor with her trailing behind him, hair flying in the wind created by their passing.
“Slow down! Please. It’s not possible to move this fast,” Bella pleaded.
Cormoran laughed at her. “’Tis a simple matter when one has the advantage of seven league boots.”
“There’s no such thing. Those boots are just stories to tell the tourists.”
“Are they now? And how many steps have I taken, missus?” Corm stopped and looked down at her.
“I … I … I’m not sure. One or two, I think.” Bella blinked and looked at her surroundings. “Where are you taking me?”
“Nowhere, we’re here,” he replied.
“This is Carn Euny,” her voice rose in disbelief. “That’s a good thirty kilometers, for goodness sake.”
“So it is.” Cormoran glanced down at his boots and grinned. “So it is.”
Bella quickly did the sums in her head. A league was about five kilometers, so seven league boots were supposed to travel fifteen kilometers in one step, so if her reckoning was correct, and the giant had only taken two steps….
“Bloody hell, they’re real,” she whispered.
“Don’t be so surprised, every old tale and myth has a grain of truth at its heart.” Corm chuckled. “Take me for instance, I’m supposed to have been slain on the karrek loes yn koos, but here I am.”
“You’re the giant that Jack the village lad is supposed to have killed by trapping him in a pit on St. Michael’s Mount?”
“One and the same. But as you can plainly see, I’m still alive and kicking. There is a grain of truth to the tale though, it took forever to get out of the hole that wretched boy dug.”
“Why are we here?” Bella turned the conversation back to the matter at hand.
“This is where you are to stay until such time as it is safe for you to return to your home.”
“You expect me to say in a fogue?” Bella was aghast at the thought. “It’s an old hole in the ground and full of spiders, not to mention wet, damp, and draughty. I won’t set foot in the place.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.
The giant threw his head back and laughed. “Come with me, just see what the place has to offer before making a hasty decision.” He extended his hand and caught her wrist.
With a great show of reluctance Bella allowed herself to be led under the granite capstone of the entrance. She knew what to expect. She and Sarie had explored Boleigh Fogue one day. It was ankle deep in muddy water, cold and dank, with more spiders than she cared to count living in the nooks and crannies of the corbelled stones. Shuddering, she ducked her head and refused to look up.
To her surprise the floor was dry and the stone under her fingers warm when she steadied herself against the wall. The chinks between the stones glowed with bright green luminescent moss. Cormoran had some trouble with the low narrow passage, but presently he turned into a round chamber off the main tunnel. The rushes on the floor smelt sweet and a pile of turf and a little coal waited by the fire ring situated under a vent in the corbelled stone roof. The giant indicated a small cot, complete with quilt and pillow, against one wall beside a well-stocked book case. I do believe Gwin and I have anticipated your needs, have we not?”
“This isn’t like any fogue I’ve ever been in,” she declared. “What if someone comes along and finds me. This place is a frequent haunt for tourists and those nutters who chase around the old stone works with their weird rods clutched in their hands. How do I explain all this?” She waved a hand around the chamber.
“Not to worry, not at all. No one will find you, and even if they came right into this chamber they would not know yo
u were here. Protected by magic, you are.”
“I’ve no magic of my own, why would you go to so much trouble to help me?”
“You’re the selkie’s lady and you’ve been touched by the Selkie’s Song. That is enough for Gwin and myself.”
“Well, thank you. I think. How long do I have to stay here? What am I supposed to eat?”
“Gwin will take care of that, the food part, I mean. As to how long your stay will be, it depends on the Council, and how hard they wish to look for you.” He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to speak. “Gwin will fetch Mistress Sarie as soon as ever it is safe. Now I must be off. I have a seat at the Council to fill and it will raise suspicion if I’m tardy. Take care of yourself, mistress. It has been my great honour to assist the selkie’s lady.”
Before Bella could speak he was gone. The scrape of his boots on the stone echoing in the long tunnel.
Chapter Twelve
Well, bloody hell, now what was she supposed to do? Wind whistled by the entrance down the narrow tunnel. Bella shivered and set about kindling a fire in the hearth ring. The turf was dry and ignited easily with the waterproof matches she found on the bookshelf. She hefted the stoneware jug and found it full of clear water, so she poured some into the battered kettle and set it on the raised trivet over the flames. The light from the overhead vent faded as the sun descended into the west.
Bella dumped boiling water over the tea she plunked into an old pottery teapot before searching for a source of light. There were thick candles and an oil lantern on top of the book shelf. She opted for the lantern and touched a match to the wide wick. The flame flared wildly until she placed the glass chimney back in place. The sky through the skylight was black, pricked with brilliant stars. Bella added some chunks of coal under the smouldering peat and smoored the fire before she wrapped the quilt around her and sat cross-legged on the cot. Her gaze followed the dance of the lantern light on the rough stone wall.
Where is Vear and is he safe? It’s just not fair and I miss him so much already. How can that stupid Council expect me to live without him? They have to see we belong together. We can make it work if they just give us a chance. I know we can. She tipped her head back and leaned it against the wall. The stars twinkled coldly above her; the Council didn’t care two shakes about what was fair. The realization settled in the pit of her stomach and bile rose in her throat. She scrubbed viciously at the tears on her cheeks. Crying wasn’t going to solve anything. Neither was sitting her on her arse like some ninny.
Bella threw off the quilt and got to her feet. She hesitated and then picked up the quilt. The wind was chill and wet with rain, her mac was at home hanging by the back door so she’d need something to keep off the rain. The question now was how to find Vear. Sticking her chin out defiantly, Bella approached the doorway to the tunnel. The narrow passage echoed with the shriek of the wind and she paused, the storm demons were howling tonight for sure. Still, Vear Du was out there somewhere and she needed to find him. Squaring her shoulders she stepped into the opening and smacked into an invisible shield. Picking herself up and rubbing the spot on her arse that landed on a sharp rock, she tried again, a little less quickly this time.
“Hell and damnation,” she muttered. It was no use; there was a bloody magic curtain of some sort holding her prisoner in the round chamber. “Bastards, fecking scut bastards,” she screamed in frustration. Bella stomped around the edge of the stone room, stopping periodically to curse and kick the walls. Presently, she grew tired of that endeavour and stood below the roof vent. “Let me out of here. Do you hear me? Let me out.” Perhaps is she called loud enough someone out on the moor might hear her. “Help! I’m stuck in the fogue. Help!” If anything the wind wailed louder. Even if there was some poor soul out in the weather at this time of night, they wouldn’t hear her over the wind. Bella resorted to pacing and cursing again.
“God be-devilled, useless—”
“Mistress Bella, it’s shocked, I am. Such language for a lady to use,” Gwin Scawen materialized by the door.
Bella whirled toward him, hands clutched to her chest. “For the love of God, Gwin. You near gave me heart failure, little man!”
He giggled and scampered to her side. “I meant no harm, no I didn’t. I brought you some supper.” He held out a covered basket. “Pretty simple fare, I’m afraid. Just ham and tomato sandwiches and a jug of lemonade.”
“Never mind that. How is Vear? Where is he? Is he alright?”
“Slow down, Mistress Bella, slow down. One question at a time.” He held up a long fingered hand.
“The big black one is sequestered in his cave while the Council searches for you. I don’t know how long they will persist, but have no fear, they will not find you. The giant has older magics than any of the Council. They won’t be able to penetrate the glamour on this place.”
“But, what do they want with me?” Bella plunked herself down on the cot.
The piskie shuffled his feet. “They wish to be sure you don’t speak of what you know.”
“How can they stop me, not that I have any intention of saying anything.”
He waved his hands and snapped his fingers. “You would just disappear … poof … like that.”
Her stomach clenched at the memory of an earlier conversation. “They’d murder me?”
Gwin shook his head. “Maybe, maybe not. They might just banish you behind the veil and leave you to wander between the worlds for eternity. It is not a fate I would wish on my worst enemy, let alone a lovely girl such as yourself.”
“But, they can’t do that! Can they?”
“The Council can do whatever they wish within their own bailiwick. The selkie is attempting to contact the Council of his birth in hopes they will see their way clear to intervene on his behalf, and yours.”
“How long will that take, do you think?” Bella twisted her hands in folds of the quilt.
Gwin shrugged and then brightened. “The good news is I think it will be safe to bring Mistress Sarie to visit in a couple of days. Cormoran has agreed to help shield our movements.”
“A few days?” Bella wailed in dismay. “That’s ever so long, I’m bored already and I’ve only been holed up here for half a day.”
“Consider the alternative….” Gwin raised a shaggy eyebrow in her direction.
“I suppose….”
“Come now, let’s see about fixing your supper, then.” The piskie proceeded to empty the contents of the basket onto a small table that materialized out of thin air.
“Handy trick, that,” she observed.
“So it ‘tis, so it ‘tis, now that you mention it.” He grinned from under the peak of his cap.
The appearance of food made Bella realize how hungry she was. Assembling a thick sandwich she returned to the cot and dug in. “That was wonderful, Gwin. Thank you.” She wiped crumbs from her lap.
“’Twas my pleasure.” He gathered up the remains and stowed them in the basket, setting the stoneware jug of lemonade on top of the book shelf. “I wish I could stay and keep you company for a while, but I promised the big one I’d let him know how you are faring as soon as ever I’d seen you.”
“Oh, please stay for a bit longer. It’s ever so boring here all by my lonesome,” she begged. “Stay for just a quick game of Nine Men’s Morris. Here I can scratch a grid into the floor….”
“Ah, Mistress Bella, I wish I could. But I’ve given my word to the big one and I must keep it. Perhaps some those books will entertain you.” He nodded toward the crammed shelves beside her before he winked out of sight.
“I don’t want to read,” she muttered. “Bother and damn.”
* * *
The following seven days passed in a blur for Bella. Gwin appeared with regularity bearing her meals. The infuriating piskie refused to share any news of Vear Du with her, and no amount of cajoling or bribery could persuade him to weaken in his resolve. Patience had never been one of her strong suits and Bella wrestled with the for
ced inactivity. She passed the time by playing solitary games of Nine Men’s Morris and reading the works of Ithell Colquhoun, the occultist and surrealist painter who lived near Lamorna. She particularly enjoyed The Singing Stones, but some of the others were frankly boring and over her head. Magic! Phaw. Wasn’t it magic that got me into this mess in the first place?
The only other form of entertainment was the occasional appearance of visitors to the fogue and the attached chamber. She found it highly amusing to see them enter cautiously and glance around as if they sensed her presence but couldn’t find any evidence of another occupant. Not even the fire burning in the ring of stones was visible to them apparently, as they walked right through it without hesitating. Maybe learning a little magic might be useful, she mused. Thoughts of revenge on Daniel Treliving gave her grim pleasure. When she was bored to distraction Bella would throw stones at the walls when the explorers were in the round chamber. For some reason the sound of the rock striking the wall was audible to them. The expression on their faces had her doubled over with laughter. Suddenly, she could appreciate the hijinks of the not so friendly genius loci who tormented locals and visitors alike across the Cornish peninsula.
She lay on the cot staring at the high corbelled root, the blue sky and sunlight showing through the roof vent taunting her. Springing to her feet, Bella examined the rough walls and glanced upward. There was a niche built into the wall partway up. In one of their brief conversations the piskie indicated it was used in ritual and she should not use it for such mundane uses as storage. “Ritual be damned,” she muttered.
The walls curved inward as they rose and culminated in the circular vent. She kicked off her shoes and stockings the better to grip the mossy stone with her toes. Setting a foot into the niche Bella began to climb. The apex of the beehive shaped chamber was only eight feet high, but it seemed much higher as she scrambled upward.
A thick web complete with spider clan came loose and draped across her face when she glanced up to check her progress. Bella shrieked and her foot slipped. She fell to the hard packed floor thumping down on her arse. “Bloody hell, bloody fecking hell,” she cursed scrubbing the sticky filaments of the web off her cheeks and checking for eight-legged creepy crawlers.