***
The travellers were still in various poses of stress, several hours later, when the mountain began to tremble. It was slow at first, a tremor that made the travellers take a step back and look around them in confusion; but in a matter of minutes the tremor was replaced by an ear splitting crack as a fracture appeared in the mountain wall. It started at the peak and ran all the way to the floor. The travellers stared at it, dumbstruck for a second, until the whole mountain began to quiver. They looked around them in panic as everything shook, as though their eyeballs themselves were trembling.
The altar began to shake with the force of the mountain, Rueben’s blood dripping erratically off of it down onto the floor, his ashes flying into the air, lost forever. Wynn watched them dance into the air sadly, her brain engaged with Rueben’s memory, instead of the trembling rock that was threatening to crush them all. It was Arabella who grabbed Wynn’s arm and shook her, crying, “The mountain is coming down!”
Wynn eyes widened as the altar cracked in half dramatically, as though to emphasise Arabella’s point, and the walls began to crumble around them. In a panic Wynn flung her arms out, palms facing outwards, lacing the action with magic and time suddenly slowed. She could not comprehend what she was doing and knew instantly that what she had done was far worse than using her magic, this time she had done it without thinking and it could have killed them all. The mountain began to crumble more slowly; debris missed them by inches as though its course had been changed. Wynn knew she was keeping the mountain in one piece for the moment, and that if she focused hard enough on it they might survive.
The travellers spun to look at Wynn, they saw the debris of the mountain had slowed, but she did not see them. She could feel their fear and shock but with all her will was focusing as much as was possible on holding the mountain together. In the back of her mind she could hear Arabella scream at her, but nothing would distract her from this moment; she felt the strain in her arms as though she were literally holding the rock with her bare hands. Arabella was torn between stopping Wynn and holding the mountain herself, for it was no secret that Wynn’s magic was unpredictable but she realised that if she was holding the mountain she would not be able to find an escape. She felt Wynn’s arms begin to weaken, prompting her and spun to face the wall opposite, willing an exit to form. The wall began to writhe, stone shifting as though made from water. Slowly a small corridor emerged from the darkness, lit by the same dull grey glow.
“GO!” Wynn cried when Arabella had finished casting her magic. Wynn’s body was now shaking violently with the strain and she feared that she would let go before the travellers were safe. As soon as she heard footsteps retreating from her Wynn released the magic and followed them into the corridor, just as the mountain crashed down behind them with an earth shattering smash.
“What just happened?” Jareth asked Arabella, as soon as they knew they were safe. The travellers shook with adrenaline and fear and they all strove to control their shaking limbs by dusting the debris from their clothes. Arabella looked at the pile of rubble which cut them off from the torture chamber, her face expressionless, “Magic,” she replied simply.
“Who’s magic?” Griffin questioned sternly, insistent on answers.
“Aerona’s,” Wynn replied softly. She could taste the distinct after-effects of Aerona’s magic. It had its own signature known only to those with the gift. It tasted like metal, at the back of the throat. Arabella had been right; a corrupt soul corrupted the magic. The metallic taste was all the proof Wynn needed that Aerona was evil. Had Aerona forced the mountain to collapse or had the death of Procel created a chain reaction? Wynn glanced at Arabella, knowing she was listening but Arabella did not reply. She did not know.
Wynn swallowed hard to rid herself of the bitter taste, it mattered not what had happened, only that they were safe. She inspected the corridor they had stumbled into. It was centuries old, crumbling in places but sturdy enough to provide them shelter whilst they figured out what to do. It reminded her of the tunnel they had walked and the labyrinth Procel had led her through. It seemed the mountain was riddled with such passages, and she realised that people had been ferried from all around the mountains, using the passages. She felt sick at the thought, how many had died here, been led to a painful end? Did they know what would happen as they walked these tunnels? Did those who knew cry or protest? It would not have worked. Wynn shivered, imagining the tunnels held memories of such things.
“How did you create this passage?” Braelyn asked. Wynn’s attention was drawn back to Arabella; her eyes flickered over her face, noting the small cuts where debris had caught her.
“I did not create it, it was here already, I sensed it when the shadow army brought us here, I merely moved the stone which blocked the entrance.”
Wynn nodded, she had been too concerned with Procel and his jurors to contemplate escape, Arabella was far more adept and Wynn was sure she had scouted every possible means of escape the moment she was taken into the chamber. Wynn felt the guilt of Rueben and Theodore’s death press on her like a blanket, smothering her. She had failed them all. She felt like she was floundering in a sea of choices and expectations and her mind swirled painfully. Wynn had so much to think about, to ponder, that her thoughts became a noiseless blur. The events of the past two weeks danced before her eyes in flashes. Two weeks? Was that all? She felt as though she had been running all her life from one form of evil or another. The army still pursued them, the Fallen and Aerona. Would she be safe anywhere? More importantly would the travellers be safe? If they stayed with her she was sure they would not. She brought only death upon those she cared about.
Wynn felt eyes upon her and looked up to see Arabella eyeing her blankly. It was true that all the travellers watched her, watched each other, but she felt Arabella’s gaze more keenly than the rest. It was a blank stare, in a blank face and Wynn wondered at it. Arabella’s sole thought was to get out of the mountains, and she was concentrating so wholly on it that Wynn could not decipher her emotions. Had she caught Wynn’s thoughts? Was she as afraid as Wynn and the travellers or angry that all their lives were in peril because of Wynn? Arabella was the one that had mentioned the Foreseeing, and Wynn could not be held responsible for the events after that conversation.
Wynn sighed deeply, once again her thoughts had not provided an answer, and just upset her more. She put her hand on the hilt of her dagger to comfort her, a habit she had picked up from Arabella, but could only keep it there for a second as the hilt had become scalding hot. Wynn screamed and let go of the dagger to shakily inspect her palm; the skin had completely burnt away leaving a fresh bloody skin, an imprint of the hilt. The traveller’s eyes widened as they saw Wynn’s wound. Arabella took Wynn’s hand firmly and looked at it. Blisters had formed around the wound and blood was dribbling across her palm. Wynn tried to flex her fingers but found the muscles, tendons and nerves had been destroyed and she could not feel her hand other than the debilitating pain.
Arabella held her hand tightly, but not unkindly, and Wynn felt a slight tingle as Arabella repaired the damage and looked down to see tiny sparks of gold dancing over her palm as the magic healed her burnt skin. Wynn had not asked for it to be healed, in truth her own magic would have taken away the worst of the pain but she appreciated the gesture and took it to mean that Arabella was not angry with her. She was probably displeased by how events had turned, but she did not blame Wynn, and Wynn was grateful. Once the travellers had asserted that Wynn was fine they set off wordlessly into the tunnel. It felt as though they had been in the darkness for years and the only emotion for some time was dolefulness.
Arabella and Wynn fell into step without thinking, at the back of the travellers. Braelyn walked ahead with Griffin and Jareth, unconsciously needing their protection. Wynn was glad she felt safe with them, and turned her attention to Arabella. They exchanged emotions for a while, using it as a crude way to talk, both did not feel like voicing what they felt and the silence did not invite any kind of noise other than their footsteps against the stone. Arabella made a light for Griffin, Jareth and Braelyn and Wynn and Arabella walked using its dimmed glow from behind them.
They walked for hours, the corridor twisting and turning unexpectedly. Arabella mentioned briefly that all the tunnels were made of magic and Wynn nodded to the explanation, she had suspected as much when the first entered the tunnel that had saved them from the Fallen, and she could feel the ancient magic pulsing through the rocks. It was unsettling and comforting at the same time to be so completely enveloped in magic. She allowed herself to feel the threads of it as it brushed her skin. It was a welcome distraction from her guilt.
Six hours later, after a quick and uncomfortable rest – none of the travellers had slept, though it was almost a day since they had properly rested, they could not bring themselves to close their eyes and relax so close to Procel’s torture chamber – they stepped out of the mountain tunnel into the soft kiss of morning light. They stood motionless, all expected the loud bustle of a town to overwhelm their senses – as they had experienced at Kingly – but instead there was only silence. Ahead of them all the cottages, shops and stalls, were deserted, dilapidated and left to rot. The ethereal golden light of morning swept over the town, completely contradicting the decay and emptiness of the settlement. It was as though the beauty of the morning highlighted in a way nothing else could the isolation and despair emanating before them. Wynn, after having no feelings rush at her immediately, as she would have when people were near, concluded the town was empty. Arabella sent her magic out to clarify and could feel no one either.
They walked hesitantly forward feeling a breeze dance gently through the sleeping town, blowing a sign a small distance away. The sign squeaked with years of rust and for a moment Wynn watched it sway in the breeze. Where was everyone? She could feel nothing indicating life, but something had happened here, something terrible. Wynn thought of Procel, could he have sacrificed the town? She shuddered and turned around to see the entrance to the corridor but it had completely disappeared, merging in with face of the mountain. It was as though it had never been. It was not Procel, he had only been awoken recently by Aerona’s hand and was waiting for Wynn to arrive before he claimed a sacrifice, murdering the town would not have pleased Aerona, who could just as easily make Procel slumber once more if she disobeyed him. No, what had happened here had happened a long time ago.
She smelt the air, but only the odour of rotting wood filled her nostrils. The town followed no pattern, the roads had clearly been built first, and the houses built around them. They were made of wood, and whitewashed, though the paint was peeling and it was more yellow than white. The windows were so covered in dust and grime that they were opaque and gave the houses an angry expression. Behind the winding streets and houses – that clearly had once been populous – lay abandoned, overgrown harvesting fields. No food grew there and clearly had not for some time. The fields stretched for miles into the horizon, behind them overgrown orchards, just visible in the distance, bore no fruit and Wynn felt her heart tug that these people’s lives had shrivelled away, forgotten. No one mourned their loss now. The town itself was large, and she knew it would take a day to reach the very corner of the orchards. The size amazed her; Woodstone was small in comparison and it had once been her entire world.
The travellers walked forward and stopped outside the first cottage. Wynn wiped away thick dust and dirt from the widow and looked inside. What she saw made her blood run cold. Three skeletons sat around a small wooden table, plates and glasses arranged like a meal. No skin hung from their bones, no hair or muscle, not even clothes, just gleaming white bone. She stared transfixed at the scene; the travellers ignored her as they too inspected the street. For some reason it bothered Wynn more that they had died as a family, doing something as mundane as eating dinner. She felt an overwhelming sadness and a dull feeling in her stomach, which crept through her whole body, at the sight.
When Wynn did not return back to their side, the travellers grew wary, they called from a distance but Wynn could not drag herself away from the window. She felt their emotions automatically and constantly and did not dwell on them, it was becoming now like second nature to her and so the travellers concern was not enough to pull her away from the cottage. It was only when Arabella elbowed her out of the way to peer into the cottage that she snapped awake and focused on the travellers once more. Now she was coherent, their urges and thoughts became more insistent and she realised she was not quite as used to it as she believed she was. It was as though going close to the cottages and the evident scene of death had desensitised her, she felt free of some invisible smog.
Arabella walked back to the travellers, her face blank, and if not for her emotions, and the odd thought that screamed out to Wynn, Wynn would have believed her unmoved by the bones. Inside she was horrified and saddened by the sight, but would never betray her feelings that way, not only for pride but Wynn sensed that she did not want to terrify the travellers needlessly, Arabella did not have all the answers right now and she wanted to be prepared to reassure them when the time came.
“They are dead,” she said in monotone – another indicator, now that Wynn thought about it, that Arabella was hiding great emotion – “I wager that all other houses and shops hold the same scene.”
Wynn felt a ripple of shock run through the travellers and she felt momentarily dizzy, rarely did all the travellers feel exactly the same thing and when it happened the feeling was intense and hard to ignore. She pushed the surprise away and focused wholly on Griffin who she could sense was working through the shock and trying to be practical.
“Are there no supplies, anything we can salvage?” Griffin questioned, his eyes scanning the broken houses. In the distance Inlo’s infamous wall, black and vast against the golden sky loomed. It was still a few days walk away but it seemed oppressive to the travellers, yet another barrier they could not cross. Wynn followed Griffin’s observations and found herself eyeing The Wall curiously. She had never been this close to the stone that held her and the inhabitants of Inlo prisoner and she could not help viewing it with pessimism. It was too wide, too high to ever climb.
Before she could dwell on their captivity Griffin separated the travellers into two groups, himself, Jareth and Braelyn, then Wynn and Arabella. They walked off in separate directions, their orders to search the houses. Wynn followed Arabella obediently but as they got to the first house she thought that even if they did find food it would be strange and disrespectful to eat it. As soon as the thought had crossed her mind Arabella turned her head – as they entered the door and walked into the hallway – to look at Wynn. Wynn held her gaze, she would not apologise for the thought that by all accounts Arabella should not have been able to hear, no other person would give her such a piercing look for an errant thought. Eventually Arabella looked away, Arabella was torn between agreeing with Wynn – she and Wynn were more connected with life than any of the travellers and so had a deeper respect for the dead – but she saw the necessity of Griffin’s orders, and in her mind Griffin was right. Wynn did not speak and walked further into the house.
It was dark inside, despite the soft morning light that flooded now through the open doorway. The wood was worn and splintering and there was a distinct taste at the back of Wynn’s throat that made her want to vomit. The hall branched off twice, once on either side. To the right was a small sitting room and bedroom, the fireplace had been boarded up and everything was covered with a thick layer of dust. To the left was the kitchen and dining room. Here sat a skeleton, sitting at the table, the plate and cup before it was empty, the gleaming white bone perfectly clear in the sparse morning light. Wynn walked up to it, unsure why she did, but needing to see it up close.
As soon as she was a handbreadth away Wynn felt a sense of dread in her stomach and had to step back. She had felt something at the back of her throat as soon as she had entered the house but now, standing only a few paces from the skeleton it was almost overwhelming. She glanced over at Arabella who was in the kitchen, searching through the cupboards and the pantry for anything they could salvage. She stood up and looked over at Wynn.
“Yes I feel it too,” she said, answering Wynn’s unspoken question, “Do you know what it is?”
Wynn considered, “It seems similar to when we were surrounded by Aerona’s magic, though I know it is not the same, I shall never forget
that
taste.”
Arabella nodded and walked to stand beside her and regard the skeleton, “Yes, you are right, it is the long, forgotten remnants of dark magic, only something evil could have stilled such a town, and murdered them all in such a way. See how the skeleton remains intact? It should not be so. I think whatever happened here that these bodies were left here as a reminder for any who would pass through.”
Arabella walked up to the body and leant close, Wynn kept back, as though it would reanimate. She had seen the Fallen and knew it possible, though what the bones would do with no muscle and skin behind them she was unsure, but she would not be caught off guard with such things again. Arabella was intently inspecting the bones, and her emotions were nothing but pensive, Wynn caught no thoughts and had to wait until Arabella was finished to
explicate
what she had found, but she did not explain.
“Something resides here,” she said quietly instead, Wynn looked around her warily as though whatever Arabella spoke of would jump out at them, “But I have not felt anything like it before. It is dangerous, very dangerous and not entirely happy of our presence.”
Wynn could feel then Arabella’s rising panic and it was infectious, she felt her heart beat quicker and the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. Half running, half walking they left the house and walked back into the square. They did not have to wait long before Griffin, Jareth and Braelyn came into view and they met each other again, not hiding their relief. The wind blew through the streets and all stood empty handed, Wynn was still glad at this fact, it felt wrong to take the food of those who had died in such a horrific way. All attention moved to Arabella.
“Something lives here, something dark and menacing with the stamp of magic about it,” Arabella began, “magic was used here, centuries ago, though what for and by who I cannot say, the skeletons are proof of that, but we are not alone and I must press the issue of leaving as soon as possible.”
“To where?” Griffin asked, there were trapped both by the mountains and by The Wall that ran along Inlo. He was sure there were other towns, to the east of them, following the mountains, but they would still be trapped. The tunnel that had led them here was gone, and even if they had found it the Fallen surely still waited on the other side of the mountains. Wynn followed his thoughts and shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.
“I cannot say,” Arabella sighed sadly, “but we must think of something, the presence that resides here is carnivorous, the skeletons were covered in tooth marks.”
Wynn’s eyes boggled, that was what Arabella was inspecting, she thought; and she shivered again, what were they to do? She was as hungry as she had ever been and she felt vulnerable out here in the open. The traveller’s emotions ranged from depressed to afraid but Wynn, although completely coherent and free from the dull magic that had affected her earlier was too wrapped up in her own musings to pay much attention. So it was that Wynn was lost in thought when the sound of wood snapping echoed around the town.
She was slow to react and taken aback by the unexpected noise, she glanced at Arabella who was achingly alert and focusing intently on a spot to the north of the town, by the fields. Wynn turned to face the same way and caught the scent of something. It was distinctly animal, though she could not say how she knew; it was wild and musky and brought tears to her eyes. Arabella had already drawn her daggers and behind her the travellers all wielded a weapon, Wynn shakily drew her own sword, though how good she would be with it was another question. It felt heavy and alien in her hands and she could not hold it still. She felt Arabella’s exasperated emotions beside her but ignored them, and instead tried to pinpoint what reeked of rage.
The travellers did not have to wait long, the sound of wood being ripped apart, as though a whole tree had been uprooted drilled into their senses and they felt their ears ring. It was followed by a loud and vicious cry, and there was no mistaking it was the cry of a beast hungry for flesh. Wynn felt the ball of dread that had been accumulating in her stomach increase and the stench grew more potent, the smell of death and rage.