‘We don’t compel them, Ellie, or command them,’ said the old woman, her golden eyes watching closely. ‘It is the song, the language of Heka, the language of magic, which connects us all. It bypasses our minds and goes straight to our hearts.’
Ba Set repeated a deep tone, and then stopped. ‘They like this time of day best, as you’ve found,’ she smiled as the tiny faery drew closer. ‘It's the edges; when the light drops or rises at dawn or dusk. The edges of the day are the best time to work with these ones, the mighty workers of the forest.’
‘Join me. Breathe out a sound from deep within. All edges; land to sea, night to day, girl to woman, are powerful.’
The old woman held Ellie’s gaze and didn't look away. Ellie’s head began to spin, drawn into the great shining orbs.
‘Magic works best on the edges because when one is neither one thing nor the other, all things are possible.’
Ellie swallowed, she didn't know what the old woman was talking about.
‘Sing.’
It was no longer a request.
Opening her mouth a fraction, Ellie made a tiny round ‘o’ shape. At first the sound she made was just a mere puff of voice. She stopped, feeling silly and self-conscious. God, what was she doing? She couldn't sing, she wasn't like Rose or even like her mum.
Ba Set waited.
Frowning, Ellie bleated out a single strangled note, it began high up in her throat before evaporating into the air around.
A small faery hovered closer. It seemed be smiling, its dark eyes shining, eager for Ellie to try again.
It couldn’t really be that hard. Ellie shook her head willing her embarrassment away. Closing her eyes, she breathed in until her lungs could hold no more, then she opened her mouth and exhaled, letting her breath vibrate out through her throat. It sounded less like a strangled cat this time.
‘Again,’ said Ba Set.
It actually felt good, realised Ellie in surprise. She could feel her normally stiff shoulders relaxing as the air rushed in through her throat and out into sound.
‘Again,’ said the old woman. ‘Follow me. Drop it lower, breathe from your belly.’
How can you breathe from your belly? Ellie almost laughed out loud, but she was concentrating now. She shifted her position, mimicking the deep tones of Ba Set.
The sound seemed to come from somewhere deeper than the old woman’s throat, deeper even than her belly; it seemed to come from somewhere even further down below.
Ellie grimaced, imagining her own voice slipping down into the ground, following worm holes, animal burrows, any opening that led into the earth. Her voice dropped beyond the tangled roots of the trees, through layers of bedrock, through huge underground caverns of crystal clear water; it dropped so far down, deep into the hot centre of the earth, it disappeared.
All was sound.
Contracting and expanding sound. The song filled Ellie’s senses, becoming louder and louder, filling her chest, her throat, every cell, every muscle.
Elated, she dropped her head back as the tone coursed back up through her body, taking her higher and higher until it felt she was floating, conscious only of a singular lightness of being.
Soft fingers, as light as air, caressed her cheeks. Warmth, light and soft, danced over her skin. The scent of eucalypt, tantalising on the wind.
Ellie opened her eyes wide with a smile, then bit back a cry of shock.
The ground, it, the land, the earth, was gone. Far below, a faint smudge of colour fell away to the horizon, while above, high against a dazzling sky, the sun sizzled and crackled, its glare eased with streaks of cloud.
Dumbstruck, Ellie peered down. She felt herself drop until she saw a small familiar shape nestled against a rock in a clearing, encircled by red folds of stone jutting towards the sky.
Awareness, shot through her body. She was flying. Oh my God, she was flying.
As though pierced by the realisation, the air around her abruptly collapsed and Ellie fell, dropping through the layers of scent and wind and lightness, landing into the hard reality of flesh with a juddering, mind numbing shock.
All was quiet around. The singing had stopped. She opened her eyes. Ba Set was gazing at her, her golden eyes bright with merriment.
Ellie stared at her, speechless. Terrified, she checked her body gingerly, flexing her hands and wriggling her toes. Her neck? Anxiously she checked each vertebra and moved her head carefully side to side. She was fine. Unbelievably she was fine, no bones were broken. Her back wasn't shattered.
‘What happened?’ She whispered, her voice small and trembling.
‘Child, you should take more care,’ smiled Ba Set.
‘What just happened?’ repeated Ellie louder as a wild excitement began to bubble up though her blood. ‘Wow, I can’t believe it.’
Ellie began to laugh as a wild happiness filled her being. I flew, she thought. Oh my God, I can fly! Elated, she laughed and threw her head back, opening her eyes wider to try and cram in as much of the immense sky as possible.
‘Wow!’ She shouted up into the trees. Clouds scudded; it looked just all so ordinary when viewed from down here, tethered to hard, solid ground. ‘I can fly.’
‘A Soul Flyer.’ Ba Set murmured, watching. ‘I haven’t met a Soul Flyer in over a hundred years.’
Ellie wasn't listening. ‘What actually happened?’ She asked, patting her body to feel if it was real. ‘Was that really real?’
Ellie stared at the old woman, and then abruptly dropped her face in her hands as doubt, cold and remorseless, clenched her being. ‘That’s impossible. I’m an idiot.’ She reddened, embarrassed by her earlier baseless joy. ‘That always happens. Oh my God.’ She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to run away; fighting the urge to pound her fists into her head, so mortified that someone had witnessed her be so stupid.
‘Ellie,’ interrupted Ba Set firmly. ‘Soul Flyer. It is real. At last the old talents are returning, just when the need is greatest.’
Ellie took in a shaking breath. Ba Set seemed to be surrounded by some kind of haze, sparkling and riven with swirling changing colours. Grimacing, Ellie shook her head. ‘I’m going nuts,’ she whispered.
‘Ellie, you are not going nuts, as you put it. Believe me, you are very sane, and very, very talented. And I would teach you,’ Ba Set whispered softly. ‘Oh, I have waited age upon age for one such as you.’
But Ellie didn't respond. ‘I’m an idiot.’ She whispered, hugging her knees tight, trying to hide.
‘Pull out the hag stone,’ commanded Ba Set.
Ellie didn't move. Ba Set waited, patient as though impervious to time. Reluctantly, Ellie turned to her backpack, opened it and pulled out the stone.
‘Look at it closely. Take a long careful look. This stone, this Old One, is your anchor to the world of truth. Any time you feel as though you need to be brought back down to earth, fly too high or fear for your mind, use the stone. It is a being of great power. Ask of it and it will answer. But do not be flippant, have respect. It will not respond if there is no need.’
‘Now. Look through it.’ The old woman gestured to the trees above.
Ellie pointed the hole, like a lens, towards the multifaceted nests trailing from the branches above. She gasped as she watched the faeries, framed through the stone, noting they had changed. Their tiny beings sparkled as they flew under the canopy, shining, shot through with colour as iridescent as falling water caught by the sun. ‘Wow,’ she whispered.
‘That is their true form,’ Ba Set smiled.
The stone in her hand pulsed with warmth and, without thinking, Ellie raised it towards the dark clad, old woman.
Ba Set sat before her, as regal as an ancient queen. Around her, rippling like a star, was a golden outline glowing so bright that it hurt the eye. And yet there was more. Wavering through the brightness, flickering from human form, was the figure of a huge dark eagle and resting on her head was a finely beaten circlet of gold. A small puff of wind rippled through
the clearing and Ba Set raised her arms, the air ruffling the tips of her vast outstretched wings so she resembled a living breathing goddess, glowing like a golden winged idol.
Ellie dropped the stone to the ground. ‘What’s going on?’ She cried as shock coursed through her body.
Ba Set didn't move. ‘Ellie,’ she breathed. ‘Do not let fear and ignorance rule your heart. Look at me, and tell me what you see.’
‘What are you? Tell me!’
All the earlier warmth and elation that had flooded through her, evaporated as though it had never existed.
‘How do you do that? Are you a d-d-devil?’ Ellie choked the word out. Oh my God, Rose was right, and so was her father. Oh my God.
‘Do not call us devils.’ Ba Set hissed the word out and it hung, small and toxic, coiling in the air. She stood straight, the earlier vision vanishing. ‘Do not call us devils.’ She repeated, quieter now. ‘For those such as I, have naught to do with puny, frightened superstitions.’
‘You ask what I am.’ Ba Set paused and closed her eyes, as though searching carefully for the right words.
Ellie backed away, poised to flee away into the trees.
‘I am of the Old Ones.’ Ba Set’s voice was low yet it held great power. ‘Do not let yourself be ruled by fear,’ she said. ‘We are not devils. We protect the earth. That is our calling. That is our great work.’
Ellie stared. Ba Set stood taller, her arms reaching for the sky. ‘Go now, while the winds remain calm.’
Gone was the tiny old woman - instead she looked ancient and powerful, wrapped in a cloak of long dark feathers crowned with gold. Holding back the storm, the old woman was no longer alone. Behind her in the shadows, stood a line of black-haired, golden-eyed women, winged and eternal, stretched back through the ages, all gazing implacably at Ellie.
‘Go’, repeated the ancient one that was Ba Set. ‘And return only if you would join us. Protecting the earth at this time of great peril is not a game. You are needed, Ellie Soul Flyer, but if you join us, you will leave behind all you have ever known.’
FOURTEEN
Southern England 1340
A rich, mouth-watering aroma filled the forest clearing, spiralling lazily up into the night sky. Breathing deeply in the chill air, Ba Set stirred through the swirls of marrow fat that seeped from the bones resting on the bottom of the pot. A meal fit for a king, deep and nourishing, made with chunks of tender venison, and herbs picked from the forest that morning.
‘Ach,’ she snorted in frustration. Her husband needed his strength, but he had managed only a few sips of the broth that evening, and had laid his spoon on the table, unable to eat anymore.
Frowning, Ba Set dropped the lid back onto the blackened pot, the loud clang cutting into the silence of the camp. Wiping her hands on her gown, she reached for a log of cut oak and dropped it onto the fire. The heat licked its way along rough-edged bark, tasting the beads of moisture sizzling down its sides, before all at once bursting alight, the bright flames twisting with coiling, dancing forms.
A sharp cry rent the air. Her husband lay in the hut behind, muttering and jerking as he slept. Ba Set listened intently. A hiss from the fire flared up into the darkness and a scamper of tiny feet scurried away into the trees, but that was all. Whatever had disturbed her man had eased, and he had settled back into an uneasy rest.
She sat motionless, strain and worry etched on her lovely face. She knew with every heartbeat that the gift of life was leaching out of him, slowly and steadily. As sure as the sun would rise on the morrow, and the harsh grip of winter would follow the softness of summer, her beloved husband would die.
‘No,’ she whispered, tightening her fists in defiance; not while the breath of life still remained in his body. She would not let him go. She would fight the whispering thrall of death that enticed from the shadows, calling from the edges of his dreams. Ba Set pulled her cloak around her shoulders and turned back to the dancing fire. The intense heat made the delicate skin of her face burn and tighten, but she didn't flinch, anything to relieve the chill of fear that rasped at her soul.
‘He will survive,’ she whispered. He had to. Shuddering, she closed her eyes as the memories of her life gone by rose unbidden into her mind. The long years, empty, her heart barren and scored with loneliness.
She had waited, each day as the sun had risen blazing in the sky and dropped quiet and subdued in the west, performing her duties to the Goddess, following her mother and sister, healing those in need. But after years upon years had passed, bitterness dulled her eyes and the bright beat of her heart slowed to the low thud of lost hope. She was alone, only half alive, waiting for the one who would bring her soul to life.
Then on a day like any other, though the cold air sparkled with the fresh promise of spring, he had appeared, his spirit arcing like the first flare of light on the dawn. His great booming laugh split the silence of the forest, scattering birds and beings alike. Yet they had followed him, watching, mesmerised by the stranger’s joyous, virile spirit.
And so had she, soaring above the sea of trees. She had descended as night-time fell to appear before him naked, her dark hair falling to her waist and her pale skin hot with desire. His laugh of surprise and delight had crackled through the forest, and when they came together she had felt as though her barren, stricken soul was now filled and overflowing with life.
By the glowing fire, Ba Set smiled. No, she vowed. Death could not have him, not her man. The great Goddess Herself knew he belonged to her, and only to her. Time would not take him.
‘Hold on, my beloved,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘Hold on, for the spice is coming. It will give fire to your veins and the strength of twenty lions to your heart.’
Picking up a twig that lay by her feet, Ba Set began to trace an intricate three-sided symbol into the soft soil, whispering ancient, clicking words known only to a few, and passed down through the ages. The spice was coming, but her husband needed to be strong, and for strength he first needed to rest. This song was potent, and as the chant rose above a whisper, the air began to quicken, drawing closer, gathering in the dark.
In the forest, power gathered, a silvery blue, dappled with bursts of light and shadow. Ba Set raised her hand, and with an arc of movement sent it deep into the hut where her husband lay. She could see it in her mind’s eye: a light-flecked covering, a web of magic and protection, keeping him safe, soothing him into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When it was done, Ba Set placed the stick on the ground, and gazed over the glowing coals into the inky blackness of the trees. Now, where was her son, and where was the spice? She frowned; she had expected Tey back soon after the sun had set, tired and clamouring for his supper. Beyond the clearing, the trees surrounding the edges of their home stood motionless, their bark gnarled and ribbed. The moon had not yet risen. Only the stars moved, sparkling brightly against the dark sky.
Where was her son?
Ba Set sat staring into the dense wall of trees, ignoring the glare of the fire while her irises, huge in her golden eyes, adjusted to the pool of darkness beyond. In a heartbeat, every distant leaf, blade of grass, and nervous tremble in the undergrowth became crystal sharp. A light scampering of padded feet was followed by the sound of bracken snapping in the silent forest. Tilting her head, she caught a muffled cry of dismay and the splintering crack of a large dry branch.
It could only be Tey. Who else would be crashing through the forest with all the grace of a wild boar? Ba Set shook her head. Still, at least he was close. Now at last she was free to gather the other vital ingredients.
Rising to her feet, she stepped away from the fire and into the centre of the clearing. She was a handsome woman, strong and lean with high cheekbones and hair that fell thick and dark to her waist. With elaborate care, she unfastened the bodice of her long gown and stepped out, letting the folds of fabric drop in a heap at her feet.
Naked, Ba Set stood bathed in light, her skin caressed by the dappled light of the embe
rs. Shaking out her hair, she stretched out her muscled arms horizontally to the earth and planted her feet firmly on the ground. The soil felt cool and moist beneath her feet. Ba Set adjusted her stance, finding her centre, until her body felt poised and balanced upon the earth. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes.
The air rushed cold and sharp in through her nostrils, scented with deep notes of wood smoke overlaid with the fresh tang of the surrounding trees. Pausing for a moment, she savoured the held scent before slowly letting it out, releasing her breath to the forest beyond. Drawing her hands over her heart, she breathed in again slower, letting the coolness fill her lungs, and dropping it down into her belly. Holding it a beat longer, Ba Set sent it lower still, imagining the warmed air flowing down her legs, to her feet and into the earth below.
Her lungs emptied and in the quiet, above the slow beating of her heart, Ba Set became conscious of another pulse, thudding quietly, almost imperceptivity deep.
Like a beam of light, Ba Set dropped her awareness to meet it; the powerful, molten heartbeat of Mother Earth. Shaking slightly, she sang out a low tone of reverence, calling in an ancient tongue to the rhythmic tide far below.
At first nothing moved and Ba Set waited, breathing quietly, standing patiently above the layers of soil and rock, deep silent caverns, and hidden pools of clear cool water.
A quiver, and every cell and nerve of her being began to sizzle and crackle as warmth surged beneath.
Her heart thundered. Her blood sang out in exaltation as heat rose up through the crust of earth, flooding her arteries, her veins, her blood, with molten surging power. Clenching her fists Ba Set drew in a shuddering breath as searing energy flowed up into her legs, up into her belly, expanding into her chest, melting into the crimson layers of her heart, every cell swelling, every drop of blood becoming golden and glowing.
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