Authors: Melanie Karsak
After I ate my fill, I went back
to my small bedchamber to lie down. My head was turning over a thousand ideas at once: Banquo, the Morrigu, the black-haired man from my visions, Sid, the skeleton statue, Andraste, and…wizardry. Andraste said I would learn, not magic, but wizardry. The word itself was alive with power. I tried to sort it all out but it was useless. Before I knew it, I slept.
My sleep was fitful. In my dream, I walked down the street of the ancient city as it had once been. The priestesses in their purple gowns rushed up and down the temple steps. The red-cloaked priests wove amongst the citizens. They carried skull-capped staves and many wore head-dresses made of bone.
“Are you coming or not?” someone walking beside me asked. From the sound of the exasperation in their voice, I could tell it wasn’t the first time I’d been asked.
I turned to find Sid, but not Sid, walking beside me. She had flowing black hair, dark eyes, and wore an elegant black gown made of silk and finely-spun lace. The gown was nothing like what the priestesses of the Dark Goddess or the common citizens wore.
“I’ll come, but he won’t believe me. No one does,” I said.
Sid sighed heavily then reached out for my hand. I felt conflicted emotions swirl inside me, but then laced my fingers with hers. When I did so, I realized that I was wearing the purple robes of a priestess of the Dark Goddess. “
He
will,” Sid said matter-of-factly.
Sid and I turned down an alley off the main city street. Here, the passage was narrow and dimly lit. The alley twisted and turned, and finally we came to the entrance of a small, sloping building.
“Stay close,” Sid whispered.
We passed through the entryway into the low building. On both sides of the narrow entrance, braziers burned with blue fire. Inside, skulls and bones lined the sloping walls. It was a catacomb. We wound downward, deeper into the earth. At the end of the long hallway was a cave. An elaborately carved door sealed the cave entrance.
“Are you sure?” I whispered anxiously.
“My Lord is not as cruel as some make him out to be. And, he always liked you,” she said with a wink. “Stand back.” Sid slid her finger around a myriad of shapes on the door. A trail of blue light followed her fingertip, illuminating the strange runes she traced.
The door opened slowly. Inside, the room was very dark. The heavy smell of the thick white sage rolled out. Under the smoky scent of sage was the loamy perfume of earth and mud.
“Come on,” Sid said, then went inside.
My heart pounded in my chest as I followed Sid. I chewed my lip nervously. Inside, the cave was very dimly lit by the strange blue light. People dressed in black, just like Sid, moved in the shadows. The place was much larger than I imagined it would be; the ceiling of the cave was very high. There must have been more than two dozen tunnels stemming off from the main area, and wooden ladders led to cave openings on the upper levels. The place felt damp. A bat shrieked, and I could hear the sound of water trickling down the cave walls. The natural cave floor was wet. In the center of the room I spotted a tall throne. I looked away. Every hair on my body felt like it had been shot through with lightening. I shuddered.
Sid led us to the throne then stopped. “My Lord of the Hollow Hills,” she whispered as she kneeled, pulling me down with her. I saw, for just a moment, someone seated on a throne before us, but he was hidden by shadows. I altered my gaze away from him.
He shifted in his seat and then, in a voice rich as velvet, he said to Sid, “Little Dia, why have you brought me an acolyte of the raven?”
“She is an oracle, My Lord. She’s had a vision,” Sid answered.
“Look at me, daughter of ravens. What have you seen?” he asked me. His voice was dark and sultry. Mesmerizing. I could not help but do what he asked. I looked up. Seated on the throne, leaning forward to look closely at me, was my raven-haired man. “What have you seen?”
“The end. We are doomed.”
He leaned back against his throne. “We are like candles. Out, out brief candle,” he said with a hard laugh.
I stared at him, but then the dream started to twist. I heard someone calling my name. At first the sound was very distant. I clung to the dream.
“I told you he would believe you,” Sid whispered to me.
I looked once more at my dark-haired man, light and dark hues playing on his face. His pale skin was illuminated by the blue light. He looked exactly the same as I had seen him in my cauldron. He smiled at me, but I couldn’t read the meaning of his expression. The smile was seductive and condescending all at once. I felt confused and a little afraid.
“Cerridwen?” someone called again. This time the call woke me from my dream. The sound echoed through the empty space.
Now fully awake, I sat up. “Hello? Nimue? Andraste?” There was no answer. I rose and went to the courtyard.
“Cerridwen! Where are you?” I heard someone call once more. It was not Andraste or Nimue. The voice was male. Banquo!
“Here,” I whispered. “Banquo? I’m here!” I yelled, looking around.
“Cerridwen!” Banquo’s voice rang through the hollow expanse. He was somewhere outside the temple, in the city itself.
Picking up my skirts, I rushed through the temple, passing the broken statue of the goddess, and down the main stairs.
“Banquo!” I called into the empty space. I looked everywhere for signs of movement. My eyes scanned past the priest’s temple and I halted. The skeleton statue was gone. My heart skipped a beat.
“Cerridwen!” I heard Banquo call again.
I knew where his voice was calling from. I ran down the street and into the alley, retracing the same walk I’d made with Sid in my dream. Caves were hollow spaces where all worlds existed at once. Ruled by the little people of the hollow hills, creatures of legend, goblins or half-humans, such spaces were dangerous. But such places were also powerful passageways that could lead you anywhere. I ran to the outer door of catacomb. The blue lights still burned at the entrance.
“Banquo?” I called into the dark space below. My voice echoed.
“Cerridwen? Cerridwen, I heard you!” Banquo called back.
He could be anywhere. The hollow spaces were doors between realms, time. But then I remembered, Banquo knew how to walk between these realms. We had journeyed between the worlds on the night we wed. This was why he wore the marks of heavy earth magic; he had mastered realm walking. Banquo was a high priest of the Horned God.
“I’m coming!” I called to him. “I’m coming,” I whispered, reassuring myself.
I walked into the dark cave. It had been damaged by the earthquake. Many of the skulls had fallen out of the wall and lay tumbled on the floor. I stepped on a leg bone that shattered under my foot, turning to dust. I coughed heavily when the heavy powder assailed my nose.
“My wife! Where are you?” I heard Banquo call.
“In a cave. I’m coming,” I shouted back.
At the end of the hall, I saw a flicker of orange firelight.
“Banquo? Is that you?”
“Cerridwen?” he yelled. At the end of the hall where the catacomb met the cave, only one small blue fire burned. The doors to the Lord of the Hollow Hills throne room were open. The torchlight I had seen must have come from inside.
I moved carefully around the fallen stones and bones into the cave room. The sound of dripping water still filled the place. I cursed myself for not bringing a torch. Only one of the blue fires still burned leaving much of the place in shadow. The place felt wet and had the heavy scent of mud and algae mingled with a tangy smell of lime.
“Banquo?” I whispered as I scanned the tunnels. I saw torchlight flicker inside one of the tunnels at the far end of the cave room.
I moved toward it, but nearly stumbled on something. I looked down to see a skeleton lying at my feet. And then, as I scanned the room. Skeletons were lying everywhere. Then, I heard whispers. Someone or something was inside the cave.
“Cerridwen!” Banquo called, and this time I could feel he was close. I could see his torchlight moving along the walls of the tunnel. I stepped around a skeleton and headed toward the tunnel. I could clearly make out the firelight bouncing off the cave wall, coming in my direction.
“Banquo,” I whispered and moved quickly, but suddenly, someone grabbed my arm.
I looked behind me. My heart skipped a beat. The skeleton from outside the priest’s hall held me. His boney fingers dug into my flesh. He tilted his head then leaned in closer to me. Terrified, I couldn’t move or breathe. The skeleton reached out his other hand and grabbed for my throat.
“Cerridwen!” I heard Banquo scream in terror.
I turned my head away to see Banquo standing at the entrance of one of the tunnels. A look of fear washed over him. The skeleton grabbed me by the back of the neck. Its boney fingers choked the air from me. I couldn’t breathe.
“Cerridwen!” Banquo cried, and a second later, I heard a loud crack.
Forcing my head around, I saw the silhouette of Andraste. The crack I heard was her tall staff slamming hard against the floor.
“Go!” Andraste yelled at Banquo, her voice echoing powerfully throughout the cave. With a wave of her hand, black smoke enveloped the tunnel where Banquo stood, snuffing out his torch.
“No,” Banquo shouted. His light faded.
“Banquo,” I choked out, reaching for him, but he was gone.
“How now you secret, black, and midnight fiend?” Andraste growled at the skeleton. “Sleep, you stubborn fool,” she added and then, tracing her finger in the air, she drew a strange rune. Blue light followed her finger. “Sleep,” she commanded again.
The skeleton’s hand loosened its grip, and the bones crashed to the ground with a strange hollow-sounding chime.
I coughed loudly the moment the bony fingers left my throat. “Banquo,” I cried again and rushed to the tunnel where I’d seen him. The black smoke was gone, and so was Banquo.
“I told you not to wander,” Andraste said.
“Where did he go?” I demanded.
“Home, I’d guess. Talented, your druid. No one has found this place in hundreds of years. But then again, he knows the shadowlands. Light,” Andraste called then traced another rune in the darkness. Once again, blue light followed her finger. “Light,” she called again after the shape was made.
At once, the cave sprang to life. Blue fires lit the square sconces all around the circular space. I finally saw the room clearly. It was filled with skeletons. And the man from my dream, the Lord of the Hollow Hills, still sat on his throne. His body had decayed to nothing more than bones, tatters of cloth hanging from his frame.
Andraste bowed to him then turned to me. “Come, girl,” she said, beckoning me to her. “Give me your hand.”
I did as she told me.
“Raise only your index finger,” she told me. Then, taking my finger, she traced a rune with my finger on the palm of her hand again and again. “Now,” Andraste said, letting go of me, “point your finger to the heavens.”
I did as she directed.
“Select one,” she said, motioning to the skeletons lying on the floor. “But not him. Stubborn fool. You are dead,” she said, referring to the skeleton from the priest’s temple. “And not him,” she added, motioning to the Lord of the Hollow Hills.
“That one,” I said, eyeing a skeleton that lay at the feet of the dead lord.
“Of course you would select her,” Andraste said, then laughed. “Point to the heavens. Tell her, ‘wake.’ Make the rune then command her ‘wake’ again.”
I knew what Andraste was teaching me…wizardry…necromancy. My body shook. I lifted my finger to the heavens, and this time, I felt power rush into my fingertip. It was like a bolt of lightning was racing into my finger and through my body. I shivered. “Wake,” I told the skeleton. I made the rune in the air. The same blue glow followed my finger. “Wake,” I said again.
The skeleton rose.
Andraste grinned as she took in the scene.
The skeleton’s bones clattered as she shifted. Dust swirled around her. She took two steps toward me. Then the undead thing reached out for my hand. I was struck by the memory of my dream.
“Now what?” I asked Andraste.
“Now she is yours to command. She will do anything you ask.”
I stared at the skeleton. Its dark eyes looked expectantly at me, its hand still outstretched. I shuddered. “I want it to go back to sleep.”
Andraste took my hand. Again, she drew a rune in her palm over and over again. “Speak the word. Make the rune. Speak the word again then release the power back into the ground by pointing your finger downward.”
“Sleep,” I told the skeleton. Then I made the rune Andraste had showed me. “Sleep,” I said again, then pointed my finger down.
The skeleton fell to the ground with a rattling crash. She lay on the ground before me, inanimate, though her arm lay outstretched, reaching for my hand.
I spent the next several days
working with Andraste, who taught me more of the mysteries of the Dark Goddess. One of the most important subjects Andraste taught me was history.
“This place is just one of many of the islands that exist in the otherworld. Surely you have heard the names of Atlantis, Lyonesse, Hy Brasil, and even Avalon.”
It was then that Nimue, who had been sewing a hole in her cloak, looked up. She stared into the distance; her gaze was far away.
“You were a priestess of Avalon,” I stated more than asked.
Nimue turned and looked at me. Her eyes were watery. “Yes,” she whispered then went back to her sewing. She said nothing else. One day, I would be like her, forever mourning a life I’d missed hundreds of years ago. By the time I understood the Dark Goddess’ magic well enough to master it, Banquo would be long dead. And it was clear now, neither Andraste, nor the island, would let him come to me here. But then again, if what Andraste was saying about the other islands was true, then maybe there was still hope…still, a chance.
“Are there others, like us, on the other islands in the mist?” I asked.
Nimue raised her head and stared at Andraste.
Andraste smiled. “That’s a good question. Perhaps.”
“Could we reach them?”
Andraste shrugged.
“You haven’t tried?”
Andraste shook her head. “I never had a reason.”
I looked at Nimue. Excitement flashed across her eyes. In her, I knew I had a partner.
* * *
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about necromancy, and dreams, and my feelings about Sid, Banquo, and the dark-haired man. The more I worried about getting back to Banquo, the more I missed Sid, the more I puzzled over the dark-haired man, the crazier I felt. It was like I had a whirlwind in my head. I wanted to learn the things Andraste was teaching me, but I also wanted to go home. I felt conflicted. Annoyed with myself, I got up. While I knew I shouldn’t walk through the city, I also knew I could handle any skeletons that might come my way, thanks to Andraste.
“Come on, Thora,” I said, stealing quietly out of the temple. I stopped at the top of the temple stairs and looked the city over. It was tragically beautiful: dark, covered in wisteria, fire-scarred. I hated being brought here against my will. Hated it. But there was something about the place that I had come to love. If the dreams and visions were true, I had been here before…with Sid and the dark-haired man at the very least. As Boudicca’s memories lived in me, my memories of this place were starting to come back to me.
I headed down the main city street toward the docks. Nothing was moving. The skeleton was not back at the priest’s temple. I hoped that meant he was still sleeping in the Lord of the Hollow Hill’s throne room. As I neared the docks, I saw evidence that this really had been a nautical society. There was an open square where ships sat mid-construction. Several of them had fallen and were smashed, some burned, but they were still there. Heaps of wooden fishing traps littered the ground. What was missing, however, was the smell of the ocean and the call of sea birds. There was no roar of waves. I spotted the piers. Then, I saw the sea.
Three ships sat on an ocean of black smoke. Piers, at least thirty of them, jutted out into blackness. It was then that I really sensed the size of the fleet that had been lost. The ghost ships, their red sails hanging slack, sat in a sea of nothingness. Fearless, Thora ran up the steps and onto the main pier. I followed behind her.
The first ship I came across looked, up close, much like a Viking ship. The masthead was ornately carved. It was made of tan wood, and true to my visions, the sail was crimson in color. Age had dampened the brightness of the sail’s hue. I jumped when Thora barked at the empty vessel.
I followed her gaze. The ship was moving. It pitched as if it were sitting in water, bouncing up and down as if small waves moved it. I looked over the side of the pier. The bottom of the ship was not visible. It was covered in black, and the blackness stirred, making swirling designs. The sea was still alive. And if it was still alive, that meant I could sail to the other isles.
Lifting a plank, I set it on bulwark. Thora jumped on the plank and bounded into the boat. Her feet on the rail, she looked out at me.
I laughed. “Okay, I’m coming,” I told her. More careful than my dog, I shuffled up the plank and lowered myself into the boat.
I was surrounded by things I didn’t know what to do with. There were pulleys, ropes, and other devices I couldn’t name. I walked the length of the boat; it seemed sturdy. I entered the small captain’s quarters. On the table was a map; its edges were yellow and crumbling. Thereon I saw other islands and the tip of the mainland. Some of the islands had names, but not the island of the Dark Goddess. I sat down in a chair and closed my eyes. A name. I needed to know the name of this place. I lay my hand on the map. It spoke to me in an ancient and dead language but one I nearly understood. Everything around me felt hollow. I felt like I was surrounded by cobwebs. The map below my hand began to feel hot. I started sweating. Through my mind’s eye, I looked at the map. It was glowing with a red light. Names began to burn onto the map: Hy Brasil, Atlantis, Lyonesse…and then I saw it, the name I had been searching for: Ynis Verleath.
I was shocked. Yes, that was the name. I knew it. I remembered it. Ynis Verleath. I bounded out of the captain’s cabin, off the ship, and down the pier. I rushed back to the temple. When I got to the steps, I shouted, “Andraste! Ynis Verleath!”
A few moments later, Andraste and Nimue emerged at the top of the stairs. “I remember! Ynis Verleath,” I called to her.
“Come, Cerridwen,” Andraste bade me. She had a serious look on her face.
Nimue looked pale and worried.
“Come,” she called again.
My stomach dropped. Something was wrong. I nodded and headed up the stairs, Thora walking beside me. Andraste turned and headed into the temple. Nimue waited for me at the top of the steps.
“What is it?” I whispered to her.
She shook her head but took my hand. Together, we walked past the broken goddess and the flame of the Morrigu toward the cauldron courtyard. I could hear Andraste speaking to someone in low tones.
“Cerridwen?” A voice called.
It was not Andraste who’d called my name. Thora barked excitedly, and dodging around Nimue, she raced ahead.
“Cerridwen?”
When we passed the arbor, I was shocked to see Sid standing there. A green light glowed on the far side of the courtyard. Sid must have cut a door. If she could do that, why hadn’t she come before? I realized then that Sid look frightened.
“Sid?”
She smiled weakly at me. “Hello, Raven Beak.”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Uh…” Sid began hesitantly, sounding uncertain. She passed a glance at Andraste. “Nothing is wrong, sister, but you must return. A bridal contract is confirmed for you. Madelaine is here with us. She will wait for your return, but you must come at once. Mind the time.”
A bridal contract was confirmed! At last, Madelaine had secured my marriage to Banquo. I closed my eyes and sent out a silent prayer of thanks to the Mother Goddess. “But the Morrigu…I never thought she would let me go so soon.”
“So soon?” Sid asked. “Oh, my dear, I know your pains,” she said with a sympathetic smile but then added, “It was the Morrigu who sent me, plucking me up with her talons and dropping me in the otherworld.” Sid looked at Andraste. “I wish your mistress did her own bidding.”
Andraste shrugged then sat down. “She loves for her own ends. Now Cerridwen will do her work in the mortal world.”
“Cerridwen, my door is fading. I have to go. Come at once,” Sid said, then stepped back into the swirling green light behind her, disappearing.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Andraste and Nimue exchange glances.
“I can go,” I said astonished. I had learned so little, but it didn’t matter. Finally, I could return to my love. “I can leave!”
“A pity. A desperate pity,” Nimue said, her voice filled with disgust.
Andraste shot her a sharp look. “Come, Cerridwen.”
Andraste and Nimue led me to my room where Nimue gently disrobed me then re-dressed me in the plain dress I had worn the day I arrived.
“I’ve washed it,” Nimue told me.
“It will make no difference,” Andraste mumbled as she shoved the silver box containing the raven torcs into a bag which she handed to me.
“No,” Nimue said bitterly. “You’re right.”
I didn’t understand their words. “Why not?”
Andraste grimaced oddly, casting a passing glance at Nimue. “There is thunder, lightning, and rain. Now, where is Graymalkin?”
“By the cauldron,” Nimue replied.
We went back to the courtyard. Andraste came to stand before the space where Sid had stood. Opening her arms wide, Andraste whispered secret words and a portal opened. Black smoke swirled in a spiraling oval. It made my hair blow all around me. From within, I swore I could smell the scent of earth and rain.
Nimue pulled me into an embrace, kissing me on the cheek. “When shall we three meet again?” she asked, turning to Andraste. Her eyes were welling with tears.
“When the hurly-burly’s done. Now, the world of man calls,” Andraste said, and taking my hand, she led me to the portal. “My girl, remember, what’s fair is foul and foul is fair,” she said with a sympathetic smile. Her expression both surprised and worried me. “Now on with you into the fog and filthy air.”
I turned and looked into the portal. I was going home. The Morrigu had set me free. Taking a deep breath, I entered the portal. I felt a strange pull as I was swept back to my world. But in the split second before I left Ynis Verleath, I heard Andraste speak. Her voice was full of sorrow.
“Something wicked this way comes.”