With the tip of one finger, I touched Owain's dagger. It was still warm but cooling rapidly. Definitely there was a charm at work for I had never seen iron cool so swiftly. Owain gingerly picked up his axe and hefted it, then lay it back down on the ground with a regretful look.
"Let's go," I said. "Slowly, and stick together. Bramble, you stay right next me."
She glanced at me and sniffed.
We marched back into the mound.
Once inside, a faint green light lit the darkness, just enough to see our path. There was no obvious source of light but it seemed we would have no need for a lamp. The tunnel passed through firmly-compacted earth and sloped sharply down. I tried not to think about the earthen ceiling or its lack of visible supports. The air smelled like moist earth, the kind that's good for planting crops in.
Owain went first, clenched hands indicating he was less than comfortable without the familiar weight of his axe. I took up the rear with Bramble between us. Was it better to be first or last? The first was most likely to run into any trap or ambush. But the last was at risk of something sneaking up on him from behind. I was somewhat comforted by the weight of the small dagger in my boot.
We had gone barely twenty paces before the path took an abrupt turn to the right and the last shimmers of moonlight disappeared, leaving the pale green light as our only source of illumination. I stepped carefully to avoid treading on Bramble who scurried with her tail tucked between her legs. How much did she understand? Clearly she knew we searched for Rhiwallon and she was afraid. Likely that was all she knew.
We walked and walked. Sometimes the path sloped down; at other times, it veered uphill. It would turn to the right then to the left and at one stage even wound back in the direction from which we had come. In no time at all, I was completely disorientated. And still we walked. The only sounds were those we made ourselves.
The air was warm and still, scented with dirt and moss. I was soon covered in a thin sheen of perspiration. We paused briefly to drink. Bramble began holding up her injured paw, hopping along on three legs. Owain scooped her up and tucked her under his arm.
In the dim green light, I had no sense of time. The path inclined upwards again and we trudged on, going up and up until I felt sure we must soon emerge from the earth into the fresh air above. By the time the path levelled again, my muscles quivered and I could hardly lift my feet. I gritted my teeth and plodded on, not wanting to be the first to admit I couldn't continue. Eventually, Owain stopped and set Bramble down.
"May as well take a break," he said. "Been walking a long time."
"How long can this tunnel possibly be?"
I didn't expect an answer and he didn't reply. I set down my pack and slid to the ground in relief. The path stretched ahead of us, dimly lit with sickly green for as far as I could see. I leaned against the cool earthen wall and sighed. Bramble curled up next to me, resting her head on my thigh, and I stroked her ears.
Owain lowered his huge frame down next to me and rummaged in the pack. He offered me an apple and Bramble a strip of dried meat.
"How long do you think we've been walking?" I asked.
Owain shrugged.
"It must be dawn, at least."
"Prob'ly later."
Having eaten, we each took a small drink from the flask — Owain poured a portion into his cupped hand for Bramble — and then sat in silence for some time. Eventually Owain stirred.
"May as well push on," he said.
I hauled myself to my feet, stifling a groan as tired muscles protested. We walked and walked. Several times we stopped to rest and twice more to eat. I was so tired, I could no longer even think. I walked when Owain told me to, stopped when he stopped, ate when he handed me food. He seemed tireless and kept moving steadily, legs pumping up and down at the same pace. He had long since been carrying my pack and I was too tired to object.
I had fallen behind, plodding along. There was an idea rattling around in my exhausted brain but I was too tired to make sense of it. There was… something. Something I should do. Or try. I was almost too tired to care what it was but it seemed there was possibly some hope in the idea, whatever it was.
Ahead of me, Owain waited at a turning of the tunnel. Perhaps once we reached the corner, there would be something else up ahead. Rhiwallon maybe, or an exit. But when I reached Owain, the only thing around the corner was more of the green-lit tunnel.
They were never-ending, these fey tunnels. Were we the first mortals to become lost in them? Would we eventually come across other folk, or perhaps only their bones? Was this what happened to some of those the tales told of, ones who disappeared from their lives and never returned?
Tales. I finally understood the idea my mind had been trying to suggest.
"I should tell a tale." My voice was thin, thready and didn't sound much like me at all.
Owain looked back at me but said nothing. Perhaps he was too tired to speak. Indeed, it seemed like such an effort. I could barely keep myself on my feet anymore, let alone spare the energy to talk.
"Perhaps a tale can get us out of here," I said.
"Go on." He set Bramble down on the ground and she immediately curled up into a ball, head draped across her paws, eyes closed. Owain leaned against the tunnel wall and waited.
A tale. If it was true I could bring my tales to life, then I could use that ability to get us out of here. I needed to tell a tale about a group of friends who become separated when one of them is abducted and who find themselves trapped in the land of the fey. Haltingly, I began to speak. My thoughts were confused and at first my words made little sense. But slowly the familiar act of tale telling took over and the words came more easily, despite my exhaustion.
I told of how the group searched for their friend, becoming more and more tired and unable to find either their friend or a way out of the tunnels. At last, exhausted and close to collapse, the bard tells a tale in which the group find themselves suddenly standing before a door in the tunnel wall, a door that wasn't there before. They open the door and find themselves outside in the sunshine and fresh air. And their missing friend waits to greet them as they stumble out, weary and heartsore.
I concluded the tale and searched the walls, waiting for the door to appear. But nothing happened.
"I don't understand," I said. "Why didn't it work?"
Owain peeled himself off the wall. "Better keep walking then," he said.
At some stage we stopped to rest and I fell asleep, curled up on the dirt with Bramble beside me and my pack beneath my head. Owain slept sitting against the wall.
I woke to the same steady green light and the never-ending tunnel. We ate and sipped small portions of water. There wasn't much left, certainly not enough to last while we retraced our steps.
As we set off again, it was all I could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other, following Owain and Bramble. My legs wobbled, my feet were blistered and my back ached. I didn't have enough energy to even wonder why my tale had failed.
Some time later, the tunnel finally ended. We came around a bend and into an enormous cavern, its high ceiling lost in the depths of the dim green light. The walls shimmered with bands of different coloured rocks: gold and red and brown. The entry through which we passed was the only exit. We would have to retrace our steps, all the way back along the green-lit path.
I dropped my pack and followed it down to the floor. Bramble climbed onto my lap which was uncharacteristic of her. Although she slept with me each night, it was usually Owain's lap she sought during the day. I pulled out the water flask. Only a few drops remained and we shared them amongst the three of us.
Owain remained standing although he set down his pack and Rhiwallon's bow and quiver. I wondered that he could bear to stay on his feet another moment. My own feet ached and my ankle, so recently injured, was tender. It wouldn't hold up much longer. I started to unlace my boots when Bramble sat up abruptly, ears pricked.
We were no longer alone.
A host of beings filled the cavern. They resembled humans, appearing in a variety of sizes from child to adult but their milk-white skin and ruby-red lips left me in no doubt they belonged to some other race.
I pushed Bramble off my lap and clambered to my feet without lacing up my boots. The fey stared at us in eerie silence. Their faces were devoid of expression and I couldn't tell whether they looked at us with curiosity or hatred or horror.
My eyes were drawn to a particular couple. She was beautiful with long, dark hair and a cold stare, he even taller than his companions. They glowed in a way the others did not and eventually my tired brain realised these beings I was so rudely staring at were most probably the rulers of the fey. They featured in so many tales that every child knew their names: Oberon and Titania.
At my feet, Bramble stood with ears alert and her tail drooping. Owain's face was white, his hands clenched. The fey seemed content to stand and stare at us. Despite their numbers, which must have been in the hundreds, there was not a noise from any of them.
I cleared my throat, the sound awkwardly loud in the silence of the cavern.
"We are looking for Rhiwallon," I said and my voice was weak.
Titania raised an eyebrow and her lips curled just the tiniest bit.
"Indeed," she said.
I waited but she did not seem inclined to volunteer anything further.
"Have you taken her?" I asked.
Titania raised graceful hands and indicated I should look around the cavern. "Do you see her here amongst us?"
I started to reply but stopped. The tales say the fey cannot lie but they will willingly mislead, answering with trickery and riddles. I could read nothing in Titania's cold gaze. I searched for a question she could not mislead me with.
"Will you take us to her?"
Titania laughed but there was no amusement in the sound. Others laughed also and then, abruptly, they all fell silent in the same moment.
"No," Titania said. "I will not take you to her. If you want to find the human girl, you must seek her yourselves."
I opened my mouth but Titania forestalled my words with a raised finger.
"One question further," she said. "And then I will answer no more."
I closed my mouth with a snap. Three questions. How could I, steeped in tales as I was, not have anticipated this? I should have known, should have considered my words more carefully. I could ask whether Rhiwallon was safe but that would give no clue as to her location.
"How can we find Rhiwallon?" I asked.
Titania's eyes glittered and when she spoke, her lips twisted cruelly and her voice rang through the cavern. "One will bear another's coat until the final round. One will face their greatest fear, wearing a gossamer gown. One may pass the fiery depths and only once may go. Locate the key to leave this place. In plain view it will be found."
My heart sank down into my boots. It was a riddle and it made little sense. Obviously it was Rhiwallon who would face her greatest fear although I didn't understand the reference to a gossamer gown. I had no idea who might wear somebody else's coat for neither Owain nor I had brought such an item into the mound. I didn't want to even think about what might be meant by passing the fiery depths. And then there was the key: it needed to be found but wouldn't really be hidden?
In the time I had spent thinking, the fey had left. One moment they stood there, staring at us in silence, and in the blink of an eye they were gone. Not so much as a rustle or a murmur betrayed their exit and afterward, the only evidence of their presence was a single leaf, blood-red against the brown stone of the cavern floor. It hadn't been there before.
Owain bent to pick up the leaf. It lay lightly on his palm and, together, we stared at it. I had never before seen such a leaf. Its edges were straight, the corners pointed. It shimmered with a red so deep, it was almost black. Lying on Owain's palm, it looked like a triangle sliced into his skin exposing the blood beneath.
"Odd," Owain said. He carefully tucked the leaf away in his shirt pocket. "Might be important."
Yet again I had fallen short.
"That their queen?" he asked.
I nodded but whatever Owain thought of Titania, he kept it to himself.
"What do we do now?" I asked, more to myself than to him. We had walked for at least a day, maybe more, to get here and now it seemed we must walk all the way back. We had no water and our only remaining food was a stale end of bread and two strips of dried meat. Perhaps in this strange world of the fey, the way out would be shorter than the way in. There were tales of such things. But we needed to find Rhiwallon first.
I laced up my boots and then hitched my pack onto my shoulder. "I guess we may as well get moving."
As Owain and I turned back to the exit, Bramble barked.
"What is it, girl?" I asked.
She gave me a haughty look.
"Sorry," I muttered.
Bramble sniffed and looked back towards the far side of the cavern.
I followed her line of sight.
"Is that-" Owain asked.
"It looks-" I said at the same time. "It's an opening."
"Wasn't there before," Owain said.
Where previously there had been nothing but solid stone now yawned a dark chasm.
Owain and I looked at each other.
"It's that or go back the way we came," I said. "The fey brought us here for a reason and I don't think it was only to laugh at us. They didn't want us to see that opening until now."
"Got to find Rhiwallon," Owain said.
I looked from him to Bramble. "Group decision. Do we go that way or back the way we came?"