“Have a care, boy.” She pointed her stick in the region of my heart. “You fascinate me, true, but you are nothing I could not do without.”
And this was clever, for it riled me justenough to blurt: “Grella was not yourmother.”
A mistake. A terrible mistake. One that
would come to haunt me for as long as I was to know Gwilanna. The Fain, who until that point had been quietly absorbing the dialogue, suddenly switched to full
alertness.
Why have you spoken of this?
Pure vanity. I hung my head.
Guinevere said, “Agawin, you mustexplain this.”
I shuddered. The only bright spark ofrelief was seeing Gawain burp a cloud ofsmoke as he chomped down the last of thesmouldering bread.
With my head still down I said to Gwilanna, “Your mother was a sibylcalled Hilde. Your father, Voss, wasoppressed by a force called the Ix. I donot know exactly how you were conceivedbut he used the auma of a dark unicorn.
All of them died on Kasgerden that day. Grella rescued you and claimed you as herown. That is all I know.”
For a moment, the only sound in thecave was the crackle of wood and Gawain
scratching dough from his primitive teeth. Then the sibyl opened her mouth and out of it came a howl so loud that the flames
retreated high up the wall. Guinevere screamed and grabbed Gawain, running with him towards the cave exit. I backed
away too, fearing that the sibyl would come for me now. Instead, she stepped straight through the flames and snatched up the skull. Her hands shook as she put her thumbs into its eyes. A jagged line ran down the back of the head. With a crack, the skull split in half. The sibyl dropped it into the fire.
Gwilanna’s eyes rolled. They weredark, almost black. The wrinkles in her
face were like old battle scars. Her matted
hair was fizzing where the fire had singed it. A small lick of flame had caught her robe. “Get out,” she hissed, in a voice that reminded me all too well of her evil
father. “Take your wearling and run while you can. Dark times are about to come down on you, boy. Our story isn’t done.”
She howled again and I felt the rocks
move.
I needed no more reason to flee from
her than that.
We ran into the moonlight, Guinevere, Gawain and me, where we were almoststruck by another foe. The brown bearreared before us, roaring and flashing itsgreat hooked claws. I had no time toimagineer. All I could think to do was
punch its nose and hope to get away. But as I raised my fist Guinevere cried, “No!” She stayed my arm. “I think he’s reacting to the wailing, not us.”
Sure enough, the creature dropped to its haunches. It squinted in abstract wonder at Gawain, then tried to peer beyond us into the cave.
A little recklessly, perhaps, I slapped
its shoulder.
It threw its head sideways and opened
its jaws, letting out a growl that practically shook my teeth from my gums. The foul stench of its breath was enough to knock ten men off their feet, but my nostrils closed like a dragon’s spiracles and I survived the blast with a passing grimace. “Guard,” I told it, pointing at the
cave. I raised my fists as if I’d like to box. “You. Bear. Stop sibyl coming.”
“No. She’ll kill him,” Guinevere said. She gave Gawain to me and put her hand on the bear’s thick flank. “Go back to your home.” She made signs with her hands. “Do not attack the sibyl. We must leave.” (She indicated me and her and Gawain.) “We go to the sea, to the island of your ancestors.”
“We go to an early grave if we don’t get out of here.” I could still hear Gwilanna ranting in the cave.
Guinevere made another ‘home’ sign, then gestured me away with a tilt of her head. We left the puzzled animal behind.
Or so we thought.
We’d gone barely six paces when we
heard him speak. “Thoran come.”
“Uh?” I grunted.
Guinevere paused. A smile lit her face. “So he
does
speak.” We glanced at each other and turned to look back.
The bear lumbered towards us,stopping to urinate against a rock. “Thoranlead way. Guard girl. Guard dragon.”
“What about guarding Agawin?” Imuttered. “I was the one who gave himberries.”
He blundered past us, bobbing up theslope like a weighty moth.
“Is this wise? He’s going to slow usdown.”
“He knows the land,” she said. “He’s
strong. We could do worse.”
I heard Thoran snort. Already he was
looking back, waiting for us.
“Why is he taking us up the hill? Surely it’s better to go through the valley to reach the sea?”
He is using the stars to guide him
, saidthe Fain. I looked up. The sky was full ofbright points, like fish dancing in a giantocean. The moon, too, was unusuallybright.
Guinevere said, “There are many routesto the Great Sea from here. I’m willing toput my faith in him.”
Thoran curled his paw to beckon us tohurry.
As we set off after him I said to
Guinevere, “Are you happy to carry
Gawain?”
“Yes,” she said, taking him back. “He’s
so warm. I can feel his auma right down to my toes.”
I nodded and thought about my dream. Gawain must have inherited his mother’s
fire, and therefore the power of a whole Wearle. The transformational effect on
Gideon was clearly a result of that. Iglanced at Guinevere again and thoughtabout what she’d said, about feeling Gawaine’s heart throughout her body. What would the auma of
twelve
fire tears
do to a human form, I wondered?
“Before we go on, just two things.” Her eyes made open contact with mine. “No more secrets, please? I want to know your story, especially how you got here—”
The tornaq! I scrabbled in my robe and thankfully laid my hand on the charm. For
one horrible moment, I thought Gwilanna might have stolen it. “Sorry,” I said, hugely relieved. “Go on.”
She ignored my panicked search and said, “I also want you to know that when Gawain is safe on the island, I’m coming back here to be with Gwilanna.”
“
What?
Why would you do that? You heard what I said in the cave. Her parents were evil. All that’s keeping her from going their way is the auma of a unicorn – and that was tainted.”
“I don’t care. She’s looked after me.
That’s all I know.”
“She threatened us, Guinevere.”
“No, she didn’t. She said dark times were coming. She didn’t say she would bring them. If she’d wanted you dead, do
you think we’d be out here breathing fresh air? She’s hurting now, because of what you revealed. But she’ll come to our aid if we need her. I’m sure of it.”
“I killed her father.” Suddenly there it was, as stark as the night. My mind flashed back to the fires of Kasgerden. “He turned into a demon, a creature called a darkling. She may have that within her, too.”
Guinevere swallowed. My heartreached out to her. The day had still notfully turned and I had rocked her worldlike an unseen storm. She laid a hand on
Gawain and patted him softly. Hegraarked and rubbed his neck against herpalm. “Then you and Gwilanna havescores to settle. But for now, our only
concern is this wearling.”
She hitched up her robe and fell into
step behind the bear.
I looked back briefly at Gwilanna’s
cave, half-expecting to see another darkling slither out of the split in the rocks. A cloud shuffled across the moon.
The night-time thickened. Not a leafrustled or a goat bell rattled. But thesibyl’s last words lingered loud in my
ears.
Our story isn’t done
. I respected Guinevere’s support for her, but I had never felt more aware of the need to keep my enemy within my sight.
Thoran led us to the crest of the hill, just one of several wide-girthed ripples in a land of softly-rolling earth. Distant spots of amber light pointed out signs of human
life. A little cluster near the water. A dot
or two in the valley we were leaving. As we walked the ridge, I saw Thoran’s purpose. He was guiding us towards a fillet of trees, far smaller than the Skoga forest, which seeded a natural scoop between the hills and would give us cover on the long descent to a bay just visible beyond the tree line. A strange sight we must have made. Three silhouettes against the full moon. Two upright humans – one with a dragon in the cup of her hands – following a bear that hulked along on all four paws.
“What are you thinking?”
We were a goodly distance from the caves now and I hadn’t spoken to Guinevere since catching her up. I shook
my head. Not because I didn’t want to talk, but because I wasn’t sure where to start. “I still don’t know what happened to Grella.” In the turmoil surrounding my outburst, her fate had gone unspoken.
“You were close?”
“It seemed so – for a short time.”
“Tell me about her tapestry. Why did you draw what you did? The characters are strange, like no one I’d recognise. And wasn’t there a dragon, writing?”
A dragon who’d reproduced the swirls around the tornaq. A dragon who commanded time, perhaps? I let the thought pass. As we started down the slope on the far side of the ridge, I began to tell Guinevere all that I knew, from the moment when Hilde had given me the
tornaq to the point where I’d dropped the tapestry on Kasgerden. I tried to explain that most of the tapestry was a mystery to me. But it wasn’t the drawing she first picked up on.
“You caught his
fire tear
?” She looped her hair with one hand. “You actually
held
a dragon’s fire?”
“No, I… got in the way of it, really. It was only a remnant. A spark, I suppose.”
“Even so. No wonder Gwilanna was
wary of you. Does it burn?”
I laughed and ran my hands through my hair, sticky now with grease and ash. A dead, curled-up spider fell out, which was a regular occurrence if you dwelt in a cave. “I feel Galen inside me all the time.
He reacts to things, especially threats.
You put him to sleep with your lullaby.”
“But he’s awake now?” She skippedforward a little to look at my face,hopeful, perhaps, that my eyes wouldadopt the familiar scalene lines of adragon.
“Hrrr,” I went, which made her grin. She was so beautiful. Just like Grella. Myface, I felt sure, was telling her so.
She looked away, flushed. “So thetapestry. What is it? A battle, Gwilannasaid. How can that be?”
I felt in my robe for the tornaq again,rolling it between my fingers and thumb. “Hilde told me I would see my destinywith the tornaq. Maybe that’s what I’mheading for – a battle. Sometime in thefuture. I think it’s called Isenfier.”
“But you weren’t in the picture.”
I rolled my lips inward and gave a slight shrug. “Maybe I’m dead by then?”
We walked on a way, counting our footsteps. “Maybe you just weren’t in the picture,” she repeated.
At that moment, we heard Thoran growl and I saw him rear up on his hind legs. We were close to the trees and he had spotted something. Telling Guinevere to wait, I hurried down the slope to be at his side. All of Galen’s triggers were firing. I could feel the Fain probing the shadows ahead.
What is it?
I asked them.
An auma source
.
Faint. We do not
recognise it yet.
I began reaching for an arrow that was
no longer there. Then among the branches of the very first tree, a bird appeared. Even against the darkened background there was no mistaking the shape of a raven. Galen’s scent nodes scanned it in a
moment. For a bird of its size, it was giving off very little body heat or odour. My vocal chords adjusted, ready for speech, but there was surprisingly little movement in my throat. Birds and dragons, it seemed, had a near common language.
“Greetings,” it caarked in an oily voice.
Thoran showed it his impressive fangs. “Fly, raven.”
“Into the wood! Would if I could!” It
hopped sideways and tried to take off. One leg was held to the branch by a tie. It
fluttered crazily, sending a dead leaf spiralling to the ground.
Thoran, slightly confused by this, dropped back to a less imposing height.
“Who has done this to you?” I said.
“Ix,” it croaked out, picking at the knot. “Ix did this.”
My blood cooled. “Why? For what
reason?”
“No reason. No reason.”
No conscience. That figured. “How didthey come to you?”