A few seconds later it appeared, about two hundred yard away; a large creature twice the size of a horse, running on all four towards them at frightening speed. Its back was arched and its body covered in short grey hairs, its four legs bounded onwards, thick claws digging into the ground for more leverage. Its eyes burned a savage red and it had tusks like a wild boar and was goring the air in anticipation. Wynn had never seen anything like it, and neither had Arabella judging by her gasp beside Wynn.
“DO SOMETHING!” Griffin yelled, drawing Wynn back. The creature advanced on them, its tusks smothered with dried blood. It threw up dust as it ran and it flew into the air dancing in the breeze. Wynn’s breath came short and she could not concentrate, the creature roared, every second closing the gap. Without thinking Wynn flung her arms out, her intent to send fire with the motion, but her emotions were too ambivalent, fear and rage and desperation, and instead of sending fire at the creature she flung herself backwards into the travellers, knocking Braelyn over, whose head made a sickening sound as it hit the ground. The magic had forced her backwards unexpectedly, not obeying her wishes. Arabella gritted her teeth in rage and completed the move that Wynn had intended to make, flinging fire at the creature that roared in anger and pain and stopped in its tracks to lick its wounds, clearly confident its victims would not escape. Working quickly Arabella set a ring of fire around them and Wynn saw the beast was eyeing it warily.
Wynn did not need to be a Magus to see how angry Arabella was with her, but she had no time to contemplate because they needed to leave and she could only think of one way. Carefully, ignoring the now verbal warnings that Arabella was yelling at her, Wynn dug deep into her magic and wove it around the traveller’s life force and concentrated on somewhere far from here. As they disappeared into the air, the ring of fire blew out and the creature lunged at them in desperation. Realising they had escaped it stopped and with an ear splitting cry of anger the creature retreated back into the cottages to wait for its next victim
.
***
The night sky was slashed with the amber glow of the sunset and Wynn viewed it dreamily. It seemed painted, this sunset and she lifted her fingers numbly as though to touch it. She was lost in it and for a moment forgot where she was and who lay next to her. Around her the travellers lay sprawled on the ground, all silent and still as though they too were dreaming. It did not seem real and a bubble of laughter escaped from Wynn's lips, flashes of what had happened and what they had run from passed across Wynn's conscious but she shook them from her eyes. She did not want to see it or accept it, because if she acknowledged it then it was real, and she wanted nothing more than to lie here under the sunset and pretend she had not escaped Procel and his jurors, the Fallen, Aerona and the army; that two of her friends had not been murdered in front of her eyes and her unconscious use of magic which could have killed them all.
Black trees, which writhed menacingly in the darkness, surrounded them and unknown and unseen animals cried at the sight of prey. A chill wind blew and whipped the traveller’s clothes, freezing them to the bone. It woke Wynn, the wind, from her stupor, and she looked around at the inhuman landscape; a mass of trees surrounded them, inhospitable and seemingly impassable, their thick black bark merging together in the darkness as though a wall had been built around them. The trees stopped suddenly ahead, making way for a large bubbling swamp. Black writhing trees poked their charred braches from the surface of the water like claws.
Through the small clearing the night sky fused with the swamp creating a sea of nothingness as far as the eye could see. Out in the middle of a swamp a rickety old house sat on high a wooden platform, staring accusingly at them. Its face of wooden boards was slanted and tiles had fallen sparsely off the roof. Golden light flooded through these gaps, cutting through the thick darkness.
Wynn was content to lay there forever; the ground was relatively soft and the swamp eerily beautiful, but she was awake now and coherent and the events of the past weeks pressed on her conscious, like a knife in her skull. She grasped her head and quelled the scream that threatened to escape. Too much had happened, too much to deal with. She needed time to think; she glanced up at sky and it was as though it was reminding her of the time that was passing. She did not have the luxury to deal with what had happened for time was slipping away. Wynn took a deep shuddering breath and took scope of the situation.
She was not injured, not seriously, a few cuts lined her arms and knees from where she had landed and she was sure bruises would appear in the next few days. Her limbs were stiff too from walking. Wynn sat up, her head spinning as the blood pumped through her vitally. It was a few moments before the world became still, but when it did Wynn wished desperately that she was trapped back in her confusion, that her body would not respond, because the traveller’s thoughts and emotions were pressing on her more urgently than her own and she had to listen, had to feel.
Pain and fear were strong like wounds in her chest and her breath caught in her throat; and the thoughts, voiced so quickly and felt so gravely in her head made her eyes roll in their sockets as her body shook with the effort. It was worse than it had ever been, this strange and unwanted ability to feel and hear everything from everyone, because she was weak and her mind vulnerable. She had not the energy to fight it, to strengthen her mind as Arabella had taught her, and so the thoughts flooded into her and the emotions surged through her.
“
Where are we
?”
“
Take a breath, just breathe, we landed safely. Do not let them see your fear, they need you to lead. Breathe
.”
“
Control yourself Arabella, it would not do to hurt her, she is young and inexperienced
–”
Wynn’s eyes darted up as she heard this thought and she glanced at Arabella’s form. She was crouching over a figure, her black hair blending in with dark shadows of the night. Her thin limbs graceful even in the filthy, blood splattered clothes that she wore. Wynn would not have known Arabella’s anger if not for the thought, for her body was relaxed and Wynn would have bet her life that her face was controlled, smooth and blank, or now that Wynn’s eyes were focusing again, her face might be pinched in concentration for the figure she was bending over was Braelyn. Unmistakable in the paleness of the moonlight, her blonde hair almost silver against the black dirt of the ground; Wynn crouched forward, on her hands and knees to gain a closer look. Braelyn’s face was almost white, her expression as blank as snow and for a moment Wynn’s heart nearly stopped. Was she dead?
Arabella’s head snapped up at Wynn’s thought and their eyes met. Wynn felt the rage, felt it burning through the stare, but Arabella’s face did not change because as Wynn’s view of the world expanded she saw Griffin hovering behind her and Jareth on the floor clutching his knees to his chest. Arabella would not betray herself with her expression, and so she turned back to Braelyn and Wynn let out a breath she did not realise she had been holding. She had never seen someone so angry, it radiated from Arabella, visible if one knew what to look for. Her jerky actions as her hand moved over Braelyn’s body, searching for injury, her stiff posture and most of all the mask of stone that was her face.
At least when the soldiers of Woodstone had been angry Wynn knew what would occur, a beating of some description with any implement or tool they could find. Arabella was a mystery to Wynn, capable of harming her in new ways, lighting fast and skilled beyond question, the pain she would inflict would be monumental. So Wynn did not move from the ground, she stayed on her knees, sitting down so that she rested on her heels. She could not go closer, not with Arabella so furious, and what would she offer if she did get closer? Arabella was busy and from the waves of pain and nausea that emanated from Jareth she was not done. Wynn watched as Arabella leant back and nodded at Griffin. Braelyn was fine and for the moment out of harm's way in her dreams, her eyes flickered in recognition of the noises around them. Wynn drooped in relief, she could not forget the sickening sound Braelyn’s head had made as it connected with the ground.
Jareth was next; Arabella knelt next to him and spoke softly. Wynn did not hear the words. Jareth’s thoughts centred solely on pain and now Wynn was coherent she could push them aside so they were nothing but small noises at the back of her head. Jareth was flexing his leg, still sitting on the ground and flashes of pain danced across his face. A bone was protruding out of ankle, gleaming white in the moonlight. He had broken his ankle. Wynn watched them together, he was trying to argue that it was no more than bruised but she saw him catch a glimpse of the pure white of his bone sticking from his ankle and he lost his voice. The blood was flowing freely and he now felt the warmth as it seeped over his skin and clothes, finally mixing with the dirt that he sat on.
“Can you fix it?” He whispered, his face pale at the sight of his injury. Wynn heard this, heard the desperation in his voice even from where she sat. How could he doubt Arabella? Pain made him fearful. Calmly, Arabella took a deep breath waved her hand over the gash, calling her magic from deep inside her and sending it into the wound. Wynn could see the bone slowly retract back into his leg and could feel Arabella’s magic fusing it together again; Jareth cried in pain but Arabella worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning the wound, killing off any sign of infection, and knotting together all veins and arteries before attaching the muscle. Once she was satisfied she rejoined the skin. Jareth’s breath came rapidly as the pain subsided.
Arabella stood up, patting Jareth on the shoulder and Wynn studied the wound in the moonlight; nothing remained but a slight pink tinge where the hole used to be. At the moment Jareth’s bone had retracted, finality had settled on the travellers, all were well, in body at least and had to stand, had to move. Wynn stood shakily and tentatively walked over to them, they had grouped around Braelyn. She looked horribly vulnerable, her golden hair white in the moonlight, her pale skin contrasting with the dark bark of the trees, and gazed out to the swamp. Wynn knew for a fact they were not in Inlo anymore, the tales of lands undiscovered revolved in her mind and she felt like curling up in a ball and hiding, it was too frightening and happening too fast.
“Where are we?” Griffin asked, it made Wynn feel better that even he did not know. How could he? None had left Inlo before, the army and wall saw to that. If indeed they had left Inlo then Wynn was truly free. The army would never believe she had managed to escape The Wall; they would not search for her out here, in the wilderness. Arabella stared out at the solitary house on the horizon for some time before replying.
“I cannot be sure, as I have never left Inlo’s walls,” Arabella answered quietly, turning to face the travellers, her face grave, “but this place is full of magic and somewhere in my mind a memory stirs, if I am not mistaken, we are in Herth and over there is The Widow’s house, the greatest Seer that has ever lived. Her past is shrouded in mystery; she is only one of maybe a dozen Seers left.”
Wynn studied the house, it seemed so simple, so poorly made and yet Wynn could feel the power emanating from it. She had to speak with this woman; it was not a question but a fact. This was the next step in their journey. It pulled on her like a rope, and it hurt that she was standing motionless instead of getting closer. She had never felt like it before and she glanced at the swamp desperately, it bubbled menacingly.
“How do we reach her?” Wynn asked. It was a question in general, not aimed at anyone in particular but Arabella’s emotions answered her. She was surprised and Wynn realised that Arabella had been planning to leave as soon as possible; talking with The Widow was not something she had considered, she was wary of the woman and that made visiting her all the more important to Wynn. Arabella scowled as Wynn felt her emotions and snapped, “You have to be worthy to pass.”
Wynn sighed and raised her hands instinctively, led by a primal impulse, but a hand gripped her forearm and the emotions that flooded her were northing but furious. So much so that the travellers all but disappeared to Wynn, she could feel nothing from them and if she had not been able to see them in her peripheral vision she would have believed them gone, she relied too much it seemed on the extra sense given by her magic. Wynn turned to face Arabella – for it was most certainly she – just as enraged as the foreign emotions that inhabited her.
“Arabella, you need to trust me.”
“Oh, I need to trust you;” Arabella cried sarcastically, throwing her arms in the air dramatically, “so what happened in Cratewood was planned? You
meant
to send yourself flying into Braelyn? It could easily have been far worse Wynn; you could have killed us all! When will you grasp that?” In Arabella’s mind Wynn saw flashes of when her magic had failed her and felt her face flush with embarrassment. Arabella had warned her countless of times, and her arrogance had almost cost them their lives.
Wynn gritted her teeth, suddenly aware that the Griffin and Jareth had taken a few paces back to stand closer to Braelyn’s unconscious form, and were watching the fight warily, “I grasp it,” Wynn hissed, “but you told me I had to practise my magic.”
“Yes, but on small things like a light or – or I don’t know, but anything other than moving us across The Wall! I would not even attempt such a thing and I am a very experienced Magus. I can forgive the first time because it was out of your control and you did not fully understand the implications but I have warned you countless times since then.”
Wynn felt her jaw tighten, the tension was evident in the air and she felt trapped inside it. She could completely understand what Arabella was saying – Arabella knew full well she did – but there was an undeniable need for her to visit The Widow and she knew Arabella did not wish to. She closed her eyes and tried to find the words to explain herself, knowing Arabella could hear her efforts and feel the sincerity of her thoughts. It was some time before Arabella took a step back and dipped her head submissively. It was a small sign, to any other the gesture was small but to those such as Wynn, who knew Arabella more intimately that she would have ever allowed, it spoke volumes for how serious Arabella was about Wynn being the Foreseen. The need that Wynn felt was something Arabella understood, for she had felt it the moment she met Wynn, the need to follow her and protect her.