by Leah Swann
She followed the magician through the doorway. There was something calm and steadfast in the misty field that made her wish with all her heart that she didn’t have to leave.
‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.
‘I’m going to transport you to Pavel.’
‘Using the wand?’ Chesca remembered Ravenel soaring backwards through the sky. She glanced around her, wondering if she could escape.
‘Don’t move,’ Vilmos said.
Chesca put her arms over her face as though to ward off a blow from a sword. Vilmos raised Advankar and uttered three mysterious words. Chesca experienced a peculiar sensation, like being wrapped in an icy cloth, both soft and sharp. Layers and layers of this freezing cloth enveloped her in a deathly hug, so tight and cold she could hardly breathe. Just when she could not stand it one more moment, the layers unrolled and her body began to spin, faster and faster, as though someone were tugging the cloth.
When the spinning stopped, Vilmos had vanished and Chesca was standing in a dark place which smelled of horses. A stable. Not far from where she stood she saw the Captain of the Guard, practising with his sword in front of a polished door. She recognised Kadar from Vilmos’s description. Chesca brushed her hands against her clothes and discovered she was wearing a pretty dress of beaded velvet. She touched her hair and found it silky and freshly washed. The grime of recent days was gone; her skin smelled of lavender.
I have to persuade this man, the Captain, to join the Great Sorcerer of the Narrowlands, she thought, remembering Vilmos’s instructions. But how do I convince him to betray King Niklas? She had no stomach for the task. She thought of her dream. What would the woman with the heavenly face think of what she was about to do? If I do this, that woman won’t love me any more. She felt a sob rise in her chest. But what choice do I have?
She watched Captain Kadar slicing and jabbing at his imaginary opponent. Perhaps he was a man of virtue. Perhaps he wouldn’t even listen to her words. He might throw her out, tell her to go away and not insult him with flattery. He might be a man of strong character, noble and loyal to his King. But the vanity on the Captain’s handsome face, enjoying his own reflection as he practised, made her doubt it.
Chesca smoothed her hair and pinched her cheeks to bring a pretty colour to them. She would soon discover Kadar’s true character.
In the secret room in Harmon’s castle, the meal was almost over. The Queen had not replied to Andor’s request for permission to continue speaking, so everyone ate in silence. The food was good – hot pigeon pies and roasted corn and sweet potatoes, followed by delicious cakes – but no-one could fully enjoy any of it.
‘What did Sef say about Queen Chloe?’ Harmon asked Andor when the plates were empty and cleared. Everyone turned to look at the young Prince – except the Queen, who stared dreamily at the tapestries.
Andor gave her a sidelong glance. ‘Sef said that Chloe learned swordcraft as a young woman, Your Majesty.’
‘I know that already. She fought me in the midsummer duels.’
Mahila and Julene cried out in surprise.
Harmon raised his hand. ‘That is another story for another time. Go on, Andor.’
‘Sef said that Raizel taught Queen Chloe the ways of the Junsong. She also said it was now time to instruct the Princesses in these things.’
At the mention of her daughters, Chloe sat up. ‘Those days are so long ago,’ she said in a slurred voice. ‘Even the lightest sword would be . . . too heavy. And I scarcely remember the Junsong.’
‘What’s wrong with you?’ snapped Harmon. ‘One moment you’re shouting that the casket is a secret and the next you’re almost asleep. You complain that no-one ever asks for your opinion. Well, I’m asking you now.’
The Queen’s pale beauty was almost ghostly. Her gaze wandered about the room. ‘Who can say?’
‘It’s the bracelet!’ shrieked Mahila, remembering the trancelike expression that had settled over her mother when she had first placed the gift upon her wrist. ‘It’s weaving a spell over her!’
The Queen smiled and stroked the pearls with her forefinger. ‘It’s . . . so pretty,’ she whispered.
Harmon stared. ‘I asked Jibade to take that cursed thing away.’
‘Well, he didn’t,’ said Chloe.
‘Give me your wrist. Let me cut it off.’
‘No . . . it is mine!’ cried Chloe as Harmon tried to remove the bracelet, first with a knife, then with his sword. Neither worked, so he asked Andor to try. The Prince pressed the new blade of his sword against the chain that held the pearls. But he too failed.
‘Never mind,’ Chloe said. ‘It’s only a trinket. Please . . . have a servant come and help me to bed. I think I could sleep for a hundred years.’
Chapter Nineteen
Hinuna
Feeling she had no choice, Irina got onto Durrell’s back and prepared to leave the Realm of the Skylings.
A small woman who had been standing outside her hut came hurrying towards them. ‘Wait,’ she called. ‘Please wait.’
Irina got down again, full of hope. The tiny woman came and stood beside Hinun. Like him, she had a crescent moon tattooed on her forehead and wore a cloud cloak.
‘Well,’ she said to Hinun. ‘Introduce me.’
Hinun clicked his tongue disapprovingly. ‘This is my wife, Hinuna. And . . . and this is a supposed princess from the Isle of Ragnor.’
‘Indeed,’ said the little woman. ‘I have been there. An island of rain and snow. And mouldy turnips.’
Irina smiled. ‘They have a saying in Ragnor: if you like the weather, you’ll love the food.’
To Irina’s astonishment, the little woman threw her head back and laughed. Her whole face crinkled up like a piece of dried fruit. A few other Skylings soon joined in.
Hinuna dropped her gaze to Durrell, who kept perfectly still. ‘Will he let me touch him?’
‘Yes,’ said Irina.
The little woman reached out her hand and stroked his thick fur. Then she leaned in and smelled his neck and sighed. ‘What a lovely animal. We have no such creatures here. We command the weather; if we want strawberries we can bid the sun to shine more brightly and grow a patch. We change the weather whenever we like, from long summer days to short winter ones. It is wonderful fun. But no creature can live like that. All living beings need the rhythms of the earth. We lack the willpower to return to the regular seasons. So we have no birds, no beasts, and . . . no children.’
Just as suddenly as she had laughed, Hinuna began to cry. Soon she was taking great, shuddering breaths. A few other Skylings joined her.
Hinun observed them for a few moments. ‘Enough! Be gone, Irina, you are making people sad. We don’t want you here.’
‘Speak for yourself, you horrid old dwarf,’ said Hinuna, and gave her husband a push. ‘Don’t go anywhere, Irina. Come to my hut. I wish to speak with you in private.’
‘Remember, woman, that if she is the Princess of Ragnor, she’s the descendant of Joaquinna, the one who cursed us.’
‘I know who she is, you fool!’ his wife screeched. ‘Don’t you see, if you grew a brain, that she might be able to help us?’
Irina and Hinuna disappeared into one of the stone huts. Embarrassed, Hinun stood staring at his feet. Durrell lay on the ground and Amicus put his head to one side and went to sleep.
‘Someone feed the girl’s animals!’ came Hinuna’s voice from the hut, and the Skylings scattered, retrieving bits of bread and meat for Durrell and seeds and nuts for the sylvan. One Skyling brought a big stone bowl filled with cold water. After some time, Hinuna and the wolf-girl emerged from the hut. Irina was gnawing on a large hunk of bread.
‘We’ve come to an agreement,’ Hinuna announced. ‘When Irina returns to Ragnor, she will do what she can to release us from the curse. In exchange, I will be escorting her to the Valley of Carmine Rock myself.’
‘A fool’s errand,’ said Hinun. ‘Why would she help us?’
‘Because she needs our help, stupid.’
‘Are you ready, Durrell?’ whispered Irina, kneeling beside her wolf-brother. ‘You’ll be bearing Hinuna also.’
The wolf made a low growling sound. ‘She doesn’t look heavy.’
Irina and Hinuna climbed onto Durrell’s back. Irina plunged her hands into the silvery fur at his neck; Hinuna slipped on behind, wrapping her tattooed arms around Irina’s waist. Amicus flew into the air, his wings shining against the sky.
‘Sunny weather, please,’ said Hinuna to her husband, with a fierce look. ‘Otherwise there will be consequences.’
No-one knew what consequences Hinuna had in mind, but the rest of that day Durrell loped over the rocky ground peacefully as the gentle sunlight warmed them, and soft breezes cooled them, and the day stretched on forever.
‘It seems we have been travelling for days, but the sun’s hardly moved in the sky,’ said Irina.
‘Night will come when the wolf is tired. Otherwise Hinun and the other Skylings will let the sun shine on for as long as we want.’
Amicus flew above them. When they reached the mountains, they stopped and gazed up at the soaring edifice of rock. Irina saw there was no path, and barely a foothold for poor Durrell.
‘How on earth do we make our way up here?’ she said.
‘It’s impossible,’ Hinuna said.
‘Isn’t the valley on the other side? How else do we get there?’
Hinuna grinned, revealing a gap between her pointy front teeth. ‘Tell your wolf to go this way.’ She directed them to a place in the wall of the mountain that looked a little darker than the rest. Only when they were almost touching the sheer rock face did Irina see that there was a small opening.
‘The Skylings’ secret,’ whispered Hinuna. ‘Baruch knows of it too, of course. The valley is a protected place and not many people find the way in. Except those awful intruders.’
‘What intruders?’
Hinuna said nothing.
The pathway was tight and rocky, but Durrell made his way without complaint. Irina and Hinuna were forced to tuck up their legs at times to avoid getting scraped. It smelled earthy and wet, like a cave. After one too many bumps, Amicus flew from Irina’s shoulder and perched on Durrell’s head, ducking when they approached overhanging rocks. Here and there, little springs trickled down the cliff sides, illuminated by narrow shafts of sunlight. Patches of emerald-green moss grew over the grey stone, which gradually became a pink colour the further they progressed.
At long last they came to an opening: a rectangle of amber light like a doorway at the end of the mountain pass. They went through it into an extraordinary, rock-strewn valley.
Irina climbed down from Durrell, glad to stretch her legs. Underfoot was a thick, pinkish dust, with clumps of dry and spiny grass sprouting up here and there. The valley was long, surrounded by the mountains, and filled with rock formations that stood like towering sculptures. Obelisks of stone jutted upwards from the dusty earth. Irina marvelled at the stunning rose colour, still visible in the fading light.
‘Quick, let’s find a cave to sleep in,’ said Hinuna. ‘The valley’s not safe at night.’
‘What do you mean? I thought you said the valley was a protected place?’
‘It’s protected from outsiders,’ said Hinuna, grasping Irina’s hand as the violet shadows of sunset unfurled. ‘Come on. Call that wolf, would you. He’s not safe either.’
‘Durrell? He’s not afraid of anything or anyone.’
The sunset did not last long. The temperature dropped and Irina’s skin prickled. The sky darkened into indigo and then a deep, dead black. The wolf-girl shut her eyes and opened them again, straining to see. Wings beat close by, and Amicus landed on her shoulder. She reached up to stroke him.
‘Durrell, come with us!’ shouted Irina. She shook off Hinuna’s hand and felt the Skyling grab the back of her clothes. She strained to hear Durrell’s answering growl, but all she heard was a whistling sound, like wind through leaves. How odd. There was no wind and few trees in this strange place.
‘Don’t let go of me,’ said Hinuna. ‘I saw a cave to the left, maybe twenty steps away. Let’s head in that direction.’
‘Can’t you make it daylight again?’ said Irina. She should have had a torch prepared. She cursed her own lack of foresight.
‘No.’
‘Move the clouds so we can see by the stars?’
‘No. We can only change the weather when there’s more than one of us.’
‘Really,’ muttered Irina. ‘What kind of power is that?’
‘It’s not a power,’ said Hinuna, tugging at Irina to go left again. ‘It’s a curse, like I told you.’
Irina’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. She could see the shapes of the rocks and, to the left, a black hole. That must be the cave Hinuna was talking about. Thank Jun, she thought, for those early years out hunting, which trained my eyes on moonless nights.
‘Durrell!’ called Irina again.
Hinuna clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Hush,’ she whispered.
‘But you told me . . .’ Irina sniffed, aware of a new tang in the air. It was as sharp as freshly-cut onions, mixed with the dull foulness of horse droppings and another smell, something like unwashed hair. She stiffened and felt her hackles rising.
‘They know we’re here,’ whispered Hinuna. ‘They heard you.’
‘Who heard me?’
Hinuna took Irina’s arm and they moved quietly backwards. They were no longer heading for the cave, but for the passage between the rocks.
‘In here,’ whispered the Skyling. ‘They can’t fit in here.’
‘Who can’t? What are we hiding from?’
Before dawn, Raizel walked up the steps of Ragnor Castle carrying the cleansed Bracelet of Uche. The manservant Jibade was by her side. Behind them two soldiers followed.
Before setting out for Ragnor, she had bade her old friend Baruch farewell.
‘I am afraid for King Niklas of Pavel,’ she’d said. ‘I sense he is not well, and I fear for his health. Perhaps his life. Some new danger is afoot.’
‘I will go to him,’ Baruch had replied.
Raizel’s powers of foresight had begun the day she first held baby Irina. After years of prayer and meditation, her skills had grown sharper. She still consulted the stars, but these days, more often than not, the signs from above did no more than confirm what she already knew. The power of her mind was such that simply by holding other people in her thoughts she could see what they were doing. In this way, she saw Andor riding his horse Langundo into the stables at Pavel. She saw that Chesca had succeeded in winning over Kadar; the pair were hiding in the shadows, spying on Andor and waiting for the right moment to confront him. She saw Iniko and Vilmos in the great castle of King Matoskah, their heads bent over a map of Ragnor. And she saw Irina and Hinuna in the Valley of Carmine Rock . . .
When Raizel reached the doors of the Great Hall of Ragnor Castle, she paused once again to read the inscription.
When the tyrant escapes his icy cave
and horizons teem with hail like boulders;
when of priestesses and kings a child brave,
comes wearing Jun’s cape around her shoulders . . .
Will Irina, the child of priestesses and Kings, bring the Age of Peace? That’s what she and Baruch were hoping. But as strong as her powers of foresight were, she couldn’t see that. Not yet.
. . . In the darkness of each heart waits a pyre
for Truth to ignite with her holy fire.
Servants opened the magnificent doors, and Raizel entered the Great Hall which was lit by torches and candles. At the far end, upon his throne, King Harmon sat and awaited the wise-woman’s arrival. Beside him, fully dressed but slumped as if asleep upon her throne, was Queen Chloe. In reality, she was awake and watching the wise-woman through slitted eyes.
Raizel uttered a spell as she approached, trying to rouse the Queen.
‘You are not to
touch me!’ said Chloe, standing suddenly, hiding the bracelet of freshwater pearls with her hand.
‘The bracelet is clouding your judgment, niece,’ said Raizel in a low, commanding voice. ‘You must remove it.’
‘You may be my kinswoman. You may be a wise-woman. But only I rule my heart.’
‘You must choose to remove it, my dear,’ Raizel said gently. ‘How can you hear the Junsong when you are under that bracelet’s spell?’
‘What I hear is my business. I’m going to the forest to be alone, and no-one – and I mean no-one,’ here the Queen threw a fierce look at her husband, ‘is to follow me.’ Chloe gathered her skirts and left the vast hall.
Harmon jumped to his feet.
‘Let her go,’ Raizel told the King. ‘Or you may end up driving her into the arms of the enemy.’
Chapter Twenty
The Fight
Prince Andor had not slept in his haste to return to Pavel Castle, and now both he and his horse Langundo were exhausted. Anxious to tell his father that the powers of the Narrowlands were stirring, he quickly led the weary stallion into the stables, unharnessed him, and gave him a bucket of oats and fresh water.
‘Good boy,’ he whispered into the horse’s velvety ear. ‘Home again.’
Humming quietly as he hung his saddle on the wall, he sensed movement and the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly prickled. Someone was there, hiding. Under his cloak, the Prince quietly eased his sword from its sheath.
Kadar stepped out from the shadows, his sword drawn.
Andor lowered his own weapon. ‘Surely you don’t wish to duel with me now, Captain? Let’s wait at least until the sun is up and fight in front of my father, as he expects.’
‘Your father is sick in bed, Prince Andor. He won’t always be there to watch your swordfights.’
‘What do you want, Kadar?’
‘Always wasting time with peaceful words. You’re not fit to be king of this warrior nation. Raise your sword, if you’re a man. You had your chance to kill Vilmos and you didn’t. Don’t look so surprised; all the men of the kingdom know it. They whisper that you are a coward . . .’