Behind him from the air fed organ, music began - a soft questioning tone rising and falling behind his words.
Shuffling in her seat, Ellie stopped listening; she felt agitated and bored. The muscles in her legs twitched and she wished desperately that she had stayed in the garden, or even better stayed at home curled up in her room with her books.
She glanced around. The faces of the congregation were listening with rapt concentration, some eyes wide with belief, while others had their heads down in an attitude of prayer, their hands clasped. Ellie closed her eyes; she could use the time to snooze, she figured, catch up on a few precious moments of sleep. Wriggling, she tried to get a little more comfortable on the hard wooden pew.
‘Do not listen!’ Thundered Matthew, his deep commanding voice cut through the rhythm of Ellie’s quiet breathing. Her eyes flew open. The music from the church organ had gathered in intensity, a soft crescendo of deep tones rising with a subtle, pulsing urgency.
Ellie peered over the bowed heads in front. Matthew had stepped down and was standing on the floor facing the congregation, his hands raised above his head, his eyes closed. The music rose.
‘It is all in God’s plan,’ he crooned. ‘As it is written, a great Promise to us his divine and most beloved children.’
Matthew’s long black robes swayed in time with the building layer of sound. ‘Do not fear. In these Final Days of Tribulation, we shall not suffer, we shall rise in body to meet Him, exalted amongst the heavens.’
He paused. ‘Do you want to be left behind?’
His question floated above the people like a wisp of smoke.
‘No…’ answered the congregation in a sigh.
‘Do you want to be left behind?’ He asked louder, his eyes piercing blue in the subdued light.
‘No!’ The congregation shouted their denial to the very heavens.
‘No, we do not wish to be left behind.’ Matthew dropped his voice to a low murmur. ‘But... Hear me well. The words of the prophecies are abundantly clear.’
He bowed his head and read from the large leather-bound book flipped open in front of him. ‘The first angel sounded his trumpet, and the earth was burned up, and the trees were burned up, and all the green grass was burned up!’
Matthew closed the book and a sigh rippled though the congregation, swaying when he swayed, and holding still as he raised his eyes.
‘It is written. Before we can ascend,’ he spoke quietly, ‘the earth itself must burn. Before we ascend to Glory, every living tree, every blade of grass, every forest must wither and die. And believe me, it is happening already, all around us.’ He smiled. ‘Let us pray for it to continue.’
‘Do you want to be left behind?’ The Reverend Matthew Hopkins cried out the question in a mighty voice.
‘NO!’ The people cried as the organ music peaked, a great wall of sound reverberating off the unadorned stone walls and thundering to the sky.
Ellie looked around her in alarm. What was he talking about the earth must burn? The organ surged, deep and tremendous, underscoring the praising, praying rapture of the congregation. Behind her an old man jumped to his feet, his thin wavering voice crying out a prayer driven plea, loud and urgent. Across the aisle a swell of parishioners responded, their bubbling chorus rising ever higher through the incessant wave of sound.
Ellie rose to her feet, fighting the urge to cup her hands over her ears to block out the fevered, emotional outpouring. She glanced to her parents. Claire and Brian were praying with their hands high in the air, their normally closed and strained faces shining with hope and adulation. Beside them the twins stood with their eyes squeezed shut and their small hands tightly clasped. Ellie gazed at her family in mute incomprehension then abruptly looked away, her eyes prickling with tears.
As quietly as she could, she crept off her seat and slipped down the aisle as Matthew’s voice rose above the melee. ‘We will prevail!’ He shouted. ‘The earth shall be scorched and we will rise, we will prevail!’
‘Not me,’ whispered Ellie. She reached the door, pulled on the latch and fled out into the sunshine.
✽✽✽
The day was still glaringly bright as Ellie slowed to a walk by the family car. How was she going to get home? Leaning against the bonnet, she sprang away with a cry as the overheated metal bit into her skin. Ellie rubbed her leg and gazed morosely down the road.
The stone church stood near the centre of a village a few miles from home. It wasn’t that far if you went straight as the crow flies, but on the ground it wasn’t that simple. The road followed the scenic route looping and twisting through the mountains, doubling back to ensure clear glimpses of forest. Tourist buses and day-trippers used to clog it, stopping and starting, and leaning out for photos. But that was back when the air was sweet and cool. Ellie sighed; if she walked it could take hours trudging along on the infernal, heat-trapped tarmac.
Above, a gust of wind whipped through a line of broad-leafed trees scattering the last of autumn red to the ground. Beyond them, swaying haphazardly against the sky stood the darker, grey-green of the eucalypts, their silhouettes etched high over the distant houses.
Ellie hesitated. Those far trees marked the beginning of a way home along the cliff top that was quicker and cooler than the hot, looping roads. But... She forced herself to look away.
On the other hand, Ellie turned back slowly, the cliff top trail didn't go exactly through the forest. No… It went only around the edge before ending at the park by their house. And if she left now, she’d be home in time to make for the twins and everyone would be happy.
Leaving a scribbled note on the windshield, Ellie headed off, keeping her eyes trained on the far off dancing branches. It’ll be fine, she reassured herself. It’s the quickest way, and she wasn’t disobeying her parents at all, she wasn’y going through the forest, she wasn’t going anywhere near it - not technically anyway.
The footpath began just across from the car park, winding its way from the main street and down into the trees. Wide and concreted, it lay cracked and scattered with dead leaves and brittle grasses. Years ago, before the twins were born, this was the way the family had come to church. It had been one of Ellie’s favourite walks. Her father in the lead, dressed in his comfortable shoes and favourite shirt, his voice loud, pointing out odd-shaped trees and tiny flitting birds. But that had been before - before the weather changed, and before the Reverend declared everything in the forest was evil.
Rounding the corner, the path dipped into shadow cast by a row of trees, marking the beginning of the track. Ellie bounded up the stone stairs and, stopping at the lookout perched high over the valley, she peered over into the vast tangle of grey and green tumbling into the depths below.
Exhilaration surged through her being. It was so beautiful here. The air felt cooler, flowing gently across the valley, whisper soft, lifting her hair and unfurling delicately around the exposed skin of her neck. Smiling, she stretched up, and leaning her body against the railing, she flung out her arms wide, her fingers caressing the wind. Ellie exalted in the sense of floating, flying, a tiny speck of weightlessness soaring out on the air.
The sun was shining low across the path when she reached a crossroads. To the left, a brace of narrow metal stairs dropped to the valley floor. Beside it, hung a sign, Fairy Glen walk. Its weathered face declared it as moderately difficult, though the paint was peeling and the bottom had fallen into the dust.
Ellie sank to her heels. Her head was beginning to ache, and she rubbed the dull painful point just behind her eyes.
Feeling slightly better, she opened her backpack, searching for her water bottle, and finding instead the smooth, holed stone. Closing her eyes, Ellie held its coolness as a balm against her temple.
Scorched earth… Rose’s father couldn’t have meant what it sounded like, surely?
Easing down against the rocks, Ellie stretched out her legs. It was so peaceful here, protected by rocks and trees. And the stone was so prett
y. Ellie stroked her hand over its surface. ‘They’ve gone mad,’ she whispered. ‘Why would anyone actually want a world without trees, or grasses? How would anything survive?’
Her breath was coming slower now and she leaned closer towards the stone. A pattern shimmered gently from its centre. Moments passed and the air began to quiver with the chip and flit of insects emerging as the day cooled – and still, Ellie sat with her head down, motionless, her eyes soft, gazing deeply into the stone’s iridescent centre.
The sun dipped lower, and a shape appeared; its wings stretched wide, and its mass blocked the light of the sun as it passed. At once the insect hum snapped quiet, and Ellie raised her head and stared, blinking, up into the cloudless sky.
A great bird was turning over the trees above, flight feathers fanned, as though sensing for every nuance and ripple of the wind.
Ellie shook her head too quickly, and the world lurched. She gripped the nearest rock. She felt weird, unbalanced, her mind jangling with odd, limping thoughts. Leaning back against the boulder, she tried hard to focus. ‘That’s no wedge-tailed eagle,’ she murmured.
The holed stone was still clasped tightly in her hand, and Ellie stared at it blankly. Her arms felt oddly chilled, and she rubbed them quickly. Just how long had she been sitting here?
Over the path on the other side, the ground rose to a crest of rocks that angled up away from the edge. Their sides were pock-marked and flecked with grey. They appeared almost grandfatherly in the afternoon light, their faces dipped in shadow, and draping beards of dry, trailing moss.
But kind … thought Ellie, studying them, and sort of cool, surrounded by a thicket of fine, needle-tipped trees. She-oaks, she smiled, remembering. She’d always loved them; especially when the wind caught in their soft, feathery leaves and they rustled like a whistling song.
Ellie wasn’t aware why she rose to her feet, but with the grey-holed stone still tucked into the palm of her hand, she began clambering off the path and up towards the wall of rock. Ellie moved slowly, her eyes dull, breathing deeply as though asleep.
A cloud followed her. Dipping in and out of the shadows, and flicking to silver and dark and back again, a cloud of countless beings flitted over Ellie like a shoal of light.
She climbed higher, mesmerised by the sway of the needle-tipped trees above, unaware of the wisp of faeries shadowing her every step.
The first sign was a light pinch. She stopped and rubbed her arm in surprise, gazing up into the branches. Ellie yawned, and a moment later a second prick of pain burst - this time on her scalp, as sharp and as unwelcome as a wasp sting.
She jolted awake.
Above her head, strands of her red-gold hair were rushing up towards into the trees. It was hard to see what was carrying them - the sun had dropped and was flaring brightly through the needle-tipped leaves. Ellie rubbed her head. Around her, the slender she-oaks were draped in the golden hue of sunset.
As Ellie stared in confusion, light erupted from one of the branches, so bright it dazzled her eyes. As she watched, it melded into another and then twisting into a blaze, it rose higher, streaming away through the trees.
Transfixed, Ellie struggled to piece together what was happening. Then she flung the smooth grey stone to the ground in horror.
Fire.
Desperately she ran back, into the brush searching for a way down, but the trees grew so close, and the rocks angled so sharply they hemmed her, refusing to let her pass. She dropped to her knees and tried to see a way over the edge to the path. Panicked and crying with fear, she scrambled forward, cutting her hands.
Stop! The voice was dry and cracked with age, yet its imperative tone brooked no foolishness.
Ellie froze.
A woman with grey-streaked hair, and a loop of dark feathers around her neck, stood before Ellie. Her hooded eyes were watching the bursts of brightness with great intensity.
‘These beings of great beauty and power are not what you fear,’ she said.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘They like to come out in the setting sun. It’s their time.’
Behind the old woman, Ellie glimpsed a hint of a track, edging away down through the rocks.
‘Listen to me. There is no fire and it is unwise to flee mindlessly into the forest.’
‘What do you mean? I know exactly how to get home.’
The old woman stepped a pace forward, blocking any access of escape, and peered down at the ground.
‘That’s a powerful toy for one so young.’ She gestured to the stone. It lay where Ellie had tossed it, wedged within a fracture of a large weathered rock. ‘But you must be careful-’
‘It’s not mine.’ Ellie cut in. ‘I just found it.’
The old woman said nothing, gazing at Ellie with intense eyes so light a brown, so bright, that they shone gold in the dimming light beneath the trees.
‘You do not treat an object of power like that. You need to treat it with respect.’
Ellie stared at her. ‘If it’s so powerful, here you take it… Just let me go.’
‘But it’s yours, child,’ said the old woman firmly.
‘Please… I need to get home.’
Ellie sunk to her knees, overwhelmed by a sudden, frightening thought that she was lost and alone in the forest with a mad woman.
Twigs splintered and she heard the sound of footsteps against rock. ‘Get away!’ she cried, wildly, clenching her fist. She’d never hit anyone in her life, except her brother Ben and he was much bigger so it didn't count … Ellie tensed. But she was nowhere near, the old woman was squatting down with her hand outstretched towards the wedged stone.
‘Do not be so afraid, child. You have a valiant heart, and this tool of being and magic has chosen you for a reason. It is a great honour.’
‘Now, get up,’ the old woman commanded. ‘It is a hag stone. With it you can journey to the very world of spirit itself. But don't be stupid. Do not sit and merely gaze into it, without direction. It is not a toy. It has the power to take you far out of yourself until you are lost on the very edges of being.’
‘What are you talking about?’ cried Ellie, and she gripped the strap of her bag tight, feeling as though it was her only link with the outside world.
Overhead, the flaring lights had ceased and beneath the darkening sky, she could see nests silhouetted beneath the branches - dozens of them, strange and multi-faceted, strung low from the slender trees. A breath of wind and each one spun slowly, trailing long threads of silk. In the two closest to her, strands fluttered, flashing red and gold.
‘What’s happening?’ A breeze whipped across her skin followed by a shrill click of movement. Ellie squeezed her eyes shut. Yet as she breathed, Ellie felt a quiet flicker of excitement. She didn't open her eyes straight away, and she peered at the old woman through her half-closed lashes.
The sun had set, and a soft blue light had descended over the trees. The old woman settled herself down on a rock, with her feet balanced on a lower one, with the trunk of a tree for support.
‘Child, there is much you want to know,’ she said softly. ‘The questions burn so bright within your heart you fear they will consume you.
Ellie didn’t answer.
The old woman smiled. ‘Yes, child, be silent. And know it is all within you.’
Minutes passed.
What? Ellie’s shoulders slumped. Is that all? She opened her eyes as a sudden spur of anger made her raise her voice. ‘What are you talking about?’ she snapped. ’My God, I shouldn’t even be here. Tell me!’ she was shouting now. ‘What is going on? I’m listening.’
‘Good. That’s a start.’ The old woman gestured to the ground beside her and once more closed her eyes. ‘Sit. And Listen.’
Ellie hugged herself in agony. She had to go home and yet... A sigh brushed delicately across her skin, like mist, emanating from the string of nests turning in the shadows. She shivered; it was all so tantalisingly strange.
The air was war
m and still, and the pinching things that had earlier gone for her hair seemed to have disappeared. Ellie glanced at the old woman, hoping for a bit more guidance, but she was facing away from her, breathing softly with her hooded eyes turned towards the darkened trees.
‘It’ll just be for a moment,’ Ellie murmured, leaning herself back against a rock.
Around her the she-oaks grew so tall and slender they seemed to shoot straight into the sky above. Ellie could see where their roots buckled, boring deeply through the mix of rock and soil. They probably ran for miles, she thought, the roots, all tangled and spread out with all the others like an upside down forest, bigger maybe than the one on top of the earth.
Startled Ellie’s eyes flew open. What a crazy idea.
It took a few breaths for her vision to focus properly, but as clear as day, she saw a tiny being floating in the air before her eyes, dark-eyed, with fine features under a mop of sticky-out hair. Ellie blinked in astonishment. It hovered only inches away, held aloft by horizontal wings flashing light and dark as they whirred.
Ellie didn't move an inch, anxious that if she did so the tiny faery might vanish. Yet… it remained, watching Ellie with a gaze huge and round in its face. After the longest moment, it stretched out a delicate, twig-like hand.
At first Ellie didn’t understand. She stared at it for a long while and then it dawned on her. Almost afraid to breathe, Ellie carefully reached up her hand, and, wincing a little, pulled out a few strands of hair and handed them over.
Clasping its prize to its chest, the little faery flared with light, then immediately flicked high, and disappeared inside one of the multifaceted hanging nests.
‘You did that very well.’
Ellie turned; she had completely forgotten the old woman, breathing on the rock by her side.
‘You’re very lucky,’ the old woman continued, her golden eyes glowing softly. ‘Not everyone has the sight to see them.’
Ellie wasn’t listening; overwhelmed by the close encounter, she closed her eyes. Did it even happen? As she wondered, a low roll of thunder echoed and a scurry of leaves dropped to the ground.
Soul Flyer Page 5