The Moonshawl: A Wraeththu Mythos Novel (45 page)

Persuasiveness, and a simple,
strong conviction of truth, rang out from Arianne’s voice. This was her task.
Failing it was inconceivable to her; she gave over her entire being to victory.
I admired the way she spoke of Myv as female, which of course, he half was. If
Vivi could taste the essence of Myv, she’d find the feminine within him. But
she wasn’t yet ready to try.

Our family is gone...
Vivi hissed.
Only lies and misshapen abominations remain. I must kill them.

‘No,’ Arianne said. ‘You
mustn’t. Our family isn’t gone, it’s simply changed, that’s all.’ She pointed
at the group within the fire circle. ‘That’s your great grandson over there and
his daughter too. And here...’ She turned briefly to Peredur, who was like a
white statue at my side. ‘Here is your grandson, Peredur. After all you did to
him, he survived, because it was meant.’

I did not survive, nor did
your daughters... All our people died.

Arianne shook her head. ‘No, not
all. What happened was horrific, a foul fever that gripped the world. We were
done, Vivi. Humanity’s time was over. The world was dying, and so were we. We
would have destroyed everything. Our ending was unspeakable – but did we not
call this on ourselves? We had become a disease, an infection. The badness had
to be let out, and it was. It exploded in a disgusting torrent. But then the wounds
of the world could heal.
We
healed. Made new. Look into my heart and see
this truth. See if you find any shred of anger or grief inside me.’

Traitor!
Vivi hissed.
You
joined them! You betrayed me!

‘No,’ Arianne answered firmly.
‘In fact, I died. I took my own life in Dŵr Alarch, because I could no
longer bear to live, but my body was never found. You know why? Because the
world, the universe, or God, or merely the simple pattern of life – whatever you
want to call it – meant for me to come back and talk to you now. I was taken
somewhere, stored like a prayer, a wish, a hope – then allowed back. Here I
am.’ She held out her hands. ‘You can leave that painful nest, Vivi. You can be
with me, and we can go somewhere else. Together. I’m here to free you. Break
away from the darkness. Come to me!’

For a brief moment, the form of the
ysbryd drwg
wavered, and then I saw a small, twisting shadow fall from
its face like a rag. This scrap fell slowly, coiling on the air, before landing
softly on the burned ground. Here, it rested, fretted as if by a breeze. Then
slowly it rose up,
inflated
, until it resolved into the wavering form of
a woman, who stood upon the field, just ahead of Arianne. Vivi: a disorientated,
confused woman, her hands to her face. She appeared unaware of where she was
and how she’d got there.

The
ysbryd drwg
bellowed
its rage at Vivi being pulled from its fabric. Its dire voice grew louder. I
knew it was ready to pounce.

There was one perfect moment of
complete stillness, then the world exploded into chaos.

The ring of flame flared up, its
tongues of fire hungry and wild. Talons of flame scampered out across the field
in strangely liquid trails.  Verdiferel’s body exploded into a multitude of
owls, not white now but black, with blood-red feet and eyes. Feathers burst
from them in a storm of darkness and the voice of the
ysbryd drwg
became
a hellish choir. The owls swooped around us, snagging us with their claws and
beaks, uttering hoarse screams no bird could possibly make. The owl is
traditionally a symbol of wisdom; these owls were merely cruelty.

Arianne stood tall, heedless of
the vicious strikes upon her. She was still calling Vivi’s name, holding out
her bloodied hands. ‘Come to me, Vivi. I’m here. Take my hands.’

Slowly, Vivi did so, taking the
stumbling steps of an invalid.

I saw Arianne grab hold of her,
pull her close, protecting them both from the vicious claws.

‘Come’, Peredur said to me. In
the weird light he appeared calm, sure, and gestured at the hara within the
ring of flame. ‘It is they who need us.’

I glanced back at Arianne and
Vivi, who were at that moment taking on the full might of the attack. I
couldn’t just leave them to deal with that, but knew also I had to trust
Peredur now. All I could do was project to the women a blast of energy, a pitiful
shield.

‘Come!’ Peredur commanded, and
walked unfalteringly towards the group within the circle of flame. I followed
him, Nytethorne at my side.

When I reached the centre, Wyva
stared at me with wide, wild eyes: furious. I could hear him thinking:
You brought
my son here! My chesnari! You! With a Whitemane and dehara know what other
oddities!

Myv saw me and tried to shout through
the cacophony: ‘It’s time. We must turn the birds. Help me turn the birds.’

Peredur took his hand. ‘Yes.
Turn the birds.’ His voice was only a whisper, yet I heard it. ‘All of us,’ he
said, louder. ‘Make the circle.’

‘Arianne!’ I called, but Peredur
put a hand on my arm.

‘No, I meant all
hara
.
Not her.’

‘But...?’

He closed his eyes briefly, for
a moment unable to quell the pain he felt. Then he composed himself once more. ‘It
has to be this way. This is her moment too, but different. She’s giving us
time.’

Myv and Rinawne sat either side
of Wyva, who refused to take their hands. ‘This is madness,’ he said, his voice
breaking. ‘Ysobi, take them away. You must go!’

‘No!’ Myv cried.

‘If my hara die because of you,’
Wyva spat at me, ‘the curse I’ll put upon you in death will be worse than any
we face now.’

Peredur leaned down to Wyva and
took his face in his hands. ‘Shut up, you fool,’ he said.

Wyva spat at him, tried to free
himself, but Peredur did not release his grip. ‘What are you?’ Wyva cried
hoarsely. ‘What sick lie are you?’

‘Me?’ Peredur said, silkily.
‘Look at me. Take a guess.’

Wyva became still, stared at Peredur
for a moment in silence, while those mad birds wheeled above us, shrieking so
hideously I felt sure my ears must bleed. Peredur was a blade of light in all
that darkness.

Then Wyva managed to pull away,
set his face into a sneer. ‘I don’t know who you are or what you’re trying to
do, but go! If anyhar can end this, it must be me.’

Peredur sighed. ‘As I said: you’re
a fool. Look closer, Wyva. I am your hura. I am Peredur. Now shut up and do as
I say.’

Wyva appeared about to throw
himself violently at Peredur, but Rinawne pulled him back, held him tight. I
saw him take two blows to the head from Wyva’s flailing arms. ‘Liar!’ Wyva
yelled. ‘Peredur is dead. Dead! You think I’m that easily fooled?’

Peredur folded his arms. ‘I’m no
liar, but we’ve no time for arguments. You want to end this curse forever? Then
be still and give your son your strength. You won’t ever end this, Wyva. This
is Myv’s task.’

‘It
is
him, Wyva, it
is
!’
Myv wailed pitifully. ‘Please believe me. Rin, tell him. Tell him!’

‘It’s Peredur,’ Rinawne said,
somewhat hopelessly.

I could tell Wyva didn’t believe
this, but he did stop fighting, probably because there wasn’t really anything
else he could do.

Peredur leaned down to touch
Myv’s head. ‘This
ysbryd drwg
is yours,’ he said gently. ‘Own it, Myvyen.
If you would rule the spirituality of your hara and this land – claim
ownership.’

Myv nodded, his expression
resigned. He squirmed away from his parents, taking the shawl with him, then sat
beside his hostling. Peredur also sat down, took the harling’s other hand. We
closed our circle, with Arianne and Vivi still standing some distance away from
us, almost hidden by the spiralling riot of feathers.

‘This is your time,’ Peredur
said to Myv. ‘End it.’

In response, Myv put back his
head and howled: a battle cry. Then he got to his feet, releasing the hands to
either side of him. He went to stand in the centre of our circle, which we
closed again around him. He lifted his arms and the moonshawl billowed around
him. Then he cast it off and it fell limply to the ground, a shining pool about
his feet. Beyond our circle, the black owls and swirling feathers began to
condense into a twisting dark ribbon like smoke. This swarmed towards the
harling and, through his open mouth, slammed into him.

This was our second sacrifice.

The silence that came with this was
so sudden, the impact so great, that for a moment I don’t think any of us
understood what had happened. Myv trembled, his pale skin mottled with threads
of black like polluted blood. His eyes were reddened, staring wildly. What had
we done? I saw in that moment, a hundred images: Wyva furious, physically
attacking me in his grief, Rinawne distraught, then a funeral, a dozen
goodbyes, Nytethorne disappointed, turning away from me, Peredur returning to
his isolation in disgrace, and Arianne?

I saw her and Vivi standing side
by side outside our circle. They held hands and were singing in the old tongue,
their faces and arms scratched and bleeding, their clothing torn. They did not
look wholly real, but glowing, almost transparent. Ghosts. I could not tell
what the song was, whether a folk song or a hymn, or just some nonsense that
meant nothing. The feeling within the tune was its magic. They
had
bought
us time. Without Vivi, the
ysbryd drwg
was weaker, perhaps only
slightly, but enough. The women sang to the ysbryd drwg that had slammed into
Myv. Their song was the essence of the
ysbrydrion da
, all that was good
in the land.

This moment of stillness,
punctuated only by the soft, steady voices, ended. We were in
no time
,
I’m convinced of that.

Myv’s body contorted. He stood
on tiptoe as if strings attached to him were being pulled towards the sky. His
skin was mottled black, like that of a rotted corpse. His arms were stiff and
twisted, as if broken. Then, he took in a deep, shuddering breath. So much
power contained in such a tiny vessel. How could he survive it?

‘Send him strength,’ I managed
to say, although my tongue was thick and dry in my mouth, barely able to shape
sounds.

I’m not afraid
, Myv said,
although the words didn’t come from his lips.

Peredur also rose to his feet,
pulling us up with him. ‘Gadael, ysbryd aflan!’ he cried in strong, clear voice,
repeating this phrase over and over.
Be gone, foul spirit!
We joined our
voices with his.

Myv groaned, shuddered, his neck
twisting unnaturally. I thought it must break, that he wouldn’t be able to
finish his task. And then, in a jet of disgusting vomit, the egregore erupted
from Myv in a black, purple-veined torrent, not only spewing out of his mouth, but
from his eyes, his skin. Black birds, black feathers, malign and eternal,
twisting, turning, and then... then...

‘Yn dod yn dda!’ Myv cried.

Feathers turning white like a
snowstorm, filling the air. And fragrance.  Such a fragrance. The essence of
summer, every sweet flower, every crushed blade of grass, the mown hay, the sap
bleeding from the hot trunks of trees. And the feathers became petals, falling
to earth, as I’d visualised the blood of Morterrius only weeks before.

‘This is my land,’ Myv said.
‘And here we have only
ysbridion da
.’

I could feel them then, the good
ghosts, absorbing the energy that Myv had expelled, taking it into themselves,
spirits of the land. I saw them as a shining company, hanging in the sky – just
for a moment. Then all was still, the night empty.

Smoke rolled lazily across the
burned circle, although the flames were doused. I saw Arianne standing some
distance from us, still holding Vivi’s hand. It was as if she was far, far
away, and would soon be farther still. Beside me, my companions were embracing,
enacting each in their own way their utter relief, either through tears or
laughter.

Peredur touched me gently and I
turned to see him standing right behind me.
Go to her,
he told me in
mind touch.

And you?

There is nothing more I can
say. I can’t embrace her now. She knows my heart.

So I went alone to Arianne. I
felt Nytethorne’s attention upon, but sent him a wordless message, and he
didn’t follow me. Peredur had said goodbye to his mother before this. For him,
she had already faded away.

As I drew nearer to the women,
they appeared more solid, the injuries inflicted by the birds clear upon their
bodies, blood drying on their skin. Arianne smiled at me sadly, reached for my
face with her free hand. I couldn’t feel her touch. ‘Thank you, Ysobi.’

‘Thank
you
,’ I said.
‘It’s done.’

She nodded. ‘Yes.’ At her side,
Vivi was like a convincing image of a woman; mindless, unspeaking, more of a
ghost than Arianne had ever been. I don’t think she could see me. She didn’t
belong here now.

Arianne sighed. ‘Well, time to
move on.’

I nodded. ‘Do you know how or
where?’

Arianne turned her head. ‘The
sunrise,’ she said. ‘When it comes. Until then, we’ll walk on the land. I hope
she sees it, understands.’

I leaned forward to kiss her
cheek, kissed sweet air, nothing more.
This,
I realised was what Peredur
had meant about not being able to embrace her. Not the pain of it, just the
simple physical inability. ‘Care for Vivi,’ I said. ‘Be happy, wherever you
go.’

‘I will.’ Arianne kissed me too,
on the lips, and for a moment I felt a faint pressure. ‘Goodbye, my friend.’

‘Farewell, Arianne.’

She was our last sacrifice.

As Arianne and Vivi walked away
across the field, into the night and beyond, I heard the bell tolling once
more. This time, there was no note of melancholy within it.