by T J Green
“If Granddad’s safe, then it must be all right here,” Tom said.
“Your grandfather is with Fahey, in a safe area,” Woodsmoke replied. “We are a long way from there.”
While they were talking, faint sounds of strange music and singing started to fill the gorge. Then there was an almighty roaring sound and the clatter of what sounded like hooves racing along the path.
Woodsmoke jumped to his feet and peered from the entrance of the cave. “I think we’ve been found,” he said over his shoulder.
Tom’s heart beat faster, as if it would leap out of his chest. Beansprout waited motionless beside him. The rumbling and clattering became louder, accompanied by wild singing and laughing. A huge towering water spout erupted from the river, filling the cave with spray, before collapsing and leaving a murky green light to illuminate the night.
Woodsmoke stepped back as a large figure appeared in the cave entrance, a black shadow against the eerie green glow. A booming voice declared, “Welcome to the Eye, travellers.” It didn’t sound welcoming.
Woodsmoke replied with a bow, “Greetings, we thank you for your welcome.”
The voice answered, “The Emperor is waiting to see you.” He stepped aside, gesturing for them to leave.
As they made their way out of the cave, they saw below them dozens of horses, carrying men and women armed with swords and spears. The middle of the river was a boiling mass of giant tentacles, waving in the strange green light.
They scrambled down, and were each hustled on to a horse with another rider. The animals stamped impatiently until the four of them were seated, then wheeled round, heading back to the lake. Tom gripped his rider. He’d never been on a horse before and was convinced he was going to be thrown off.
The castle that had been beneath the water was now above it, hundreds of lights shining from the windows, bright against the black night. They rushed up the broad ramp, along the parapet, and swept onto the bridge that had previously crossed the lake, but which now led to huge gates and a courtyard beyond. The sheer black granite walls were slick with running water which cascaded down and through grates in the floor.
The riders shouted to each other as they dismounted. Tossing the reins to others who emerged from the shadows, they headed towards a broad entrance on the left of the courtyard.
Tom, Beansprout, Woodsmoke and Brenna stood uncertainly watching the movements around the courtyard, wondering where they were expected to go. Tom imagined deep dark dungeons, dank and cold. However, the man with the booming voice shepherded them into a large dining hall crowded with people eating and drinking at long tables. Servants milled around, replenishing enormous plates and dishes as the sound of music came from a group in the corner of the room.
Slowly, as everyone turned to look at them, the room fell silent.
A voice came from the far end of the room. “So, our visitors finally arrive in my hall.”
Craning his neck, Tom saw a man, his dark hair streaked with grey, sitting at a table raised on a dais. He leaned forward on his ornate chair, looking at them intently. This must be the Emperor.
Woodsmoke and Brenna immediately bowed, a sweeping gesture reaching down to their feet, before Woodsmoke strode forward.
“I would like to apologise for our unannounced presence in the Eye,” he said. “It was completely unplanned, and we were aiming to be out before disturbing Your Majesty.”
“Were you indeed?” The Emperor’s voice boomed out across the hall. “And what did you hope to achieve by visiting the Eye? Are you spies?”
“No! We are not spies. We came to rescue the human child who passed through the portal. It was an accident.”
Tom felt all eyes fall on him and his cousin. He opened his mouth to take the blame, but before he could speak, Beansprout said in a shaky voice, “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. It was my fault. I didn’t realise what would happen.”
“So, human child, it is you that brings visitors to my hall.” The Emperor peered closely at them both. “How did you find the doorway? It has surely been closed for many years.”
“I saw a hole in the ground and found it that way.”
“It was our fault,” interrupted Woodsmoke. “We left the passage open. But I would like to reassure you that it is now closed, and with Your Majesty’s permission we will leave tomorrow to return the visitors to their home. If you could direct us to a portal that would be most helpful.”
“And what,” said the Emperor, “are two of the fey from the Realm of Earth doing with humans? Didn’t we stop passing to their world many hundreds of years ago?”
“I had to deliver a message. A guest came to our realm of late. He wanted to send a message to his family, telling them that he was safe.”
The Emperor paused, his face stern as he stared at Woodsmoke. He spoke softly. “It has also been a very long time since anyone from the Realm of Earth came to the Eye.”
Woodsmoke smiled a thin smile. “Too long. But you are not who we expected to see, Your Majesty.”
After another long pause, during which there was only a breathless silence, the Emperor said, “No, I would not be. There have been many changes here.” He gazed into the middle distance for a moment and then, suddenly relaxing, said, “Well, I would be a poor host if I did not offer you food. Come, sit, all of you, and you can tell me what is happening in your realm.”
With that the general hum of noise started again. The people sitting around the Emperor moved aside to make room, and Tom and Beansprout sat on the Emperor’s left, while Woodsmoke and Brenna sat to his right. The Emperor started talking to Woodsmoke and Brenna, leaving Tom and Beansprout to eat and think.
Servants put plates in front of them, and they helped themselves from platters in the centre of the table. There were whole baked fish the length of a man’s arm; piles of mussels and oysters, and steaming bowls of fish stew. Tom took a bite of something green that was probably fried seaweed, and discretely spat the salty mouthful into a table napkin. Beansprout was merrily tucking into a huge bowl of trifle.
Looking around the room, Tom realised the other guests weren’t really “people”, in the usual sense of the word. Neither were Woodsmoke and Brenna. The Emperor had called them “fey”.
Tom couldn’t quite explain what made them different, other than a peculiar awareness they seemed to have. It was quite unnerving. When they looked at you, it was as if they could see right into your mind; could tell exactly what you were thinking. Even though he had no evidence of this, Tom felt he should try and hide his thoughts.
And Brenna could turn into a bird! He wondered if the people in the Eye could turn into animals too. They looked a little different to Woodsmoke and Brenna. Their skin was slightly shimmery, as if dusted with silver, and their eyes were a bright shiny blue. And the castle – what an amazing place! The hall was similar to the old English halls he’d seen in books, but instead of having fireplaces, there were fountains in alcoves along the wall. The water cooled the hall – a welcome change from the sticky heat outside.
Tom tried to look at the Emperor without being too obvious about it, watching him out of the corner of his eye. He was much younger than Tom had thought an Emperor would be. His hair was pulled up into a knot on his head, his face was sharp, his eyebrows high and quizzical, and he wore long loose robes of dark blue, which pooled like water at his feet. His chair looked as if it were made from polished coral.
Tom suddenly felt a long way from home. It was hard to believe that only this morning they were in the wood by his house. It was then that Tom realised his father would have no idea where he was, or Beansprout’s mother, but there was nothing he could do now. He knew though that he still wanted to see his granddad before going back.
He was incredibly tired, and he noticed Beansprout’s eyes beginning to close, her head nodding gently before she snapped it up, trying to stay awake. He turned to her. “You OK?”
“Exhausted, Tom. But I don’t want to go to bed – there’s too much to
see. This is all so weird.” She shook her head as she gazed around the room.
“Do you still want to find Granddad?” Tom asked.
“Yes. Absolutely! We’re so close it would be mad not to. Woodsmoke will take us. We’ll make him!”
“Good. Because I’m not ready to go home yet. This place was under water earlier, can you believe that? And nothing’s wet. Well, not like you’d expect.”
“Really? How does that happen? We have to stay. I don’t want to go home yet, Tom.”
The Emperor turned their way, saw Beansprout yawning, and immediately summoned a servant. “Give our guests a room each in the East Tower.” Turning back to them he said, “You two are tired. You do not keep such late hours as we do. Sleep now and we will talk tomorrow.”
It seemed they had little choice. Tom caught Woodsmoke’s attention, and he nodded, so they followed the servant out of the hall.
He led them along winding corridors and up stairs grand and sweeping and small and spiralling, until they were completely disorientated. They ended up on a short corridor and were shown rooms next to each other. Tom lay on his bed thinking he’d be awake all night, but in minutes he was fast asleep.
5 The Cavern of the Four Portals
Several hours later, Tom woke feeling groggy and disorientated, and for a few seconds couldn’t work out where he was. He struggled to open his eyes – his eyelids felt as heavy as lead.
Events from the previous day began to filter into his thoughts, and he sat up in bed, looking wildly around the room. Then he remembered – he was in the bedroom in the tower. Flopping back down, he wondered if this was what jetlag felt like.
His dreams started to return to him. Again the white-haired woman had appeared, but this time the image had been sharper, clearer. She’d looked impatient, saying, “Come, Tom, you are nearly here. Hurry! There are things you must do.” Again firelight had filled his vision and he’d felt its heat; chanting had filled his ears.
With a shock he realised it had been her voice in his head when they’d crossed the portal. Who was she? What things must he do?
He brushed off the dream and looked round the room, which was filled with a dull green light. Why was the room green? Were there leaves over the window? Then he had another thought. Were they back under the water? He jumped out of bed and ran to the window. That was definitely water.
The lake floor was of smooth rock and sand. Large tree-like plants waved about in the current, their thick knotted roots anchored into the rock. Fish of all sizes swam past the window, and horses grazed on the lake floor. Looking up, he saw a pale yellow disc, and the surface of the lake glinting like a mirror far above. Shafts of sunlight pierced the gloom.
The urge to explore woke him fully. On a table in the corner of his room was a bowl of steaming water, a bar of soap, and towels. He had a quick wash and raked his fingers through his hair. Wondering if Beansprout was awake he stepped into the empty corridor and knocked on her door. “Come in,” he heard her call.
She was at the window, staring into the water. “Tom! You’re right, we’re under the water. How is this possible?”
“Magic, I guess.”
“But how do we get out of here? We’re trapped.”
“I’m more worried about how we find breakfast! Fancy a wander?”
“Should we? What if we get lost?”
“Oh we’ll definitely get lost, but we’re lost anyway, aren’t we?” He shrugged and smiled.
Grabbing their packs, they headed down the corridor, attempting to retrace their steps from the night before. They met no one, and the castle was eerily silent. Before long it was clear they were lost – these ornate hallways were different to those they had walked along the night before. The walls were hung with tapestries of underwater scenes, and decorated with the skeletal remains of unfamiliar creatures. Rills of water trickled down the edges of the corridors, and there were small pools filled with lily pads, and plants that they didn’t recognise.
“I think we’re in the main part of the castle, Tom,” Beansprout whispered. They had come to a large circular space with a grand staircase leading down to an atrium. Huge windows let in the green glow of the water, and large purple fronds of aquatic plants tapped against the panes.
As they reached the atrium, a door opened and a woman stepped out. She looked surprised for the briefest of seconds, and then smiled. “You must be our human visitors. Follow me.”
On the far side of the atrium, a wooden arched doorway led to a courtyard. Above them, water was suspended from its downward rush by some mysterious force.
“Don’t worry,” the Emperor called. “It’s quite safe.” He was seated at a stone table laden with food and what looked like a pot of tea. “Come and join me, I have lots to ask you.”
They sat while he poured tea – which was most definitely not normal tea – and offered them fish for breakfast. Tom took a sip of the green liquid; it was an odd-tasting salty brew.
“Woodsmoke has been telling me how you came to be here. I trust you are enjoying yourselves?”
Tom answered, trying to swallow his food quickly. “Yes. It’s … different.”
“Years ago,” said the Emperor, thoughtfully, “many people from your world visited here – accidentally, of course – but it was easier then. The doorways were simpler to find and the walls between our worlds came and went. Only those who know where to look visit now, and few have this knowledge. Those who do come are not always friendly.” He looked regretful.
“It has also been a long time since we saw anyone from the Realm of Earth,” he continued. “As I explained to your friends last night, I have been Emperor since my father died, and things have been difficult.” Tom and Beansprout carried on eating and nodding. “My father was suspicious and treated visitors badly – I understand why your friends were worried about being here. He would probably have fed you to the Mantis.”
Beansprout’s face grew pale.
“We have tried to keep my father’s death a secret. This has allowed me to make changes and defeat certain groups, particularly the swamp goblins.”
Noticing Beansprout’s discomfort, he changed the subject. “Tell me all about you. I once visited your world, when the forests ran thick, tangled and unbroken right to the shores of your seas. What is it like now?”
Between them they attempted to answer his question, and were on to their third pot of “tea”, when Woodsmoke and Brenna appeared, looking more relaxed than the day before, and not in the slightest concerned at the water suspended high above their heads.
“Last night,” the Emperor nodded at Woodsmoke, “I agreed to escort you to our closest portal to the Realm of Earth. Unfortunately my father destroyed many portals, particularly those to your world,” he said, looking at Tom and Beansprout, “so I cannot send you home. But I think you are not displeased with that?” He looked amused at their excited faces.
“We still want to find our grandfather,” said Tom, glaring at Woodsmoke, who rolled his eyes.
“Yes, yes. All right,” said Woodsmoke. “We’ll see where we end up. But I’m not promising anything!”
“Obviously my father didn’t succeed in completely destroying the portals,” said the Emperor, “otherwise you wouldn’t be here. But I would instead suggest that we escort you up the river that runs to the border. It will be a difficult journey, passing through swamps and then the mangrove forests, which, at this time of year, are full of flesh flies, and it could take many weeks–”
“No,” said Woodsmoke. “It would take far too long. We have to attempt the portal.”
“Very well then. We shall leave tonight.”
After the sun had set, and the water around them had become black and impenetrable, the castle rose majestically to the surface of the lake. It was a discomforting experience to find themselves shooting upwards, the floor rocking beneath them as if there was an earthquake. The roar of water filled the castle and Tom felt his ears become thick with pressure, all sound bec
oming muffled, before they popped and everything returned to normal.
The castle doors were thrown open and fresh air began to circulate, getting rid of the stuffiness that had built up during the day.
Accompanied by the Emperor and a dozen men carrying lanterns, they exited the castle through the rear gate. Passing over the stone bridge, they paused at the rocky ledge.
“We’ll just summon the hippocamps,” said the Emperor.
“Sea horses,” said Woodsmoke, in response to Tom’s baffled expression.
One of the Emperor’s men pulled a flute out of his pocket and blew into it.
“I can’t hear anything,” Beansprout said.
“I expect it’s too high-pitched for our ears,” Tom answered.
Moments later, four horses broke the surface, whinnying softly as they swam towards the shore. They had normal horse heads, but the manes trailing down their backs were webbed and transparent. Small wings sprouted from their sides, and large fishtails propelled them through the water.
“They’re so beautiful,” Beansprout said, leaning forward to pat them.
“Oh yes, and quite tame,” the Emperor said. He turned and led the way to one side of the waterfall, pushing through lush ferns into a partially hidden cleft in the rock. Tom followed the Emperor down a passageway that opened into a wider tunnel, through which rushed a fast-flowing river. In one direction the river emptied into the lake; in the other it ran along the tunnel into darkness.
The hippocamps were waiting for them beside a small ship. There were no sails; instead Tom saw neatly stacked oars alongside rows of seats.
The men harnessed the animals to the front before boarding the vessel, hanging their lanterns along the sides and on the prow. Tom, Beansprout, Woodsmoke and Brenna made their way to the stern with the Emperor. When everyone was seated, they gently pushed out.
The air in the tunnel was damp and the walls trickled with water. Beyond the ship the darkness was absolute. Their progress was slow but steady.