Authors: Joseph Delaney
Lots of my enemies were in there – supporters of the Fiend. So I cloaked myself using the most powerful magic I had. I wasn’t sure it would be enough. The dark is where magic comes from, and it’s the dwelling place of the Old Gods. And I was alone.
I’d been there once before – snatched away by the Fiend. Each of the Old Gods has a home in the dark – a territory, a personal domain that belongs only to them – and there was one god who’d helped me. Brought me back to the world, he had. Pan, like some of the others, wants to be left alone – completely alone – and doesn’t take kindly to intruders. If I found a way into Pan’s domain, none of my enemies would be waiting for me there. Course, that didn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t destroy me for invading his space.
Pan has two aspects, two different forms. One, which I hoped I would never see, is terrible – most folk would be driven mad just by gazing into his face; the other form was the one I hoped I’d be able to talk to.
To get into Pan’s domain with my powerful magic should be relatively easy. He mostly dwells in the dark, but he’s also the god of nature. His home is never that far from our world.
Anyone who’s been alone in a forest has sensed his presence. There are times when everything becomes still and silent; everything that
can
breathe seems to be holding its breath.
There are no rustles in the undergrowth; no breeze; just a sense of a gigantic unseen presence.
Which means that Pan is close.
So I chose a forested area south-east of Chipenden, not too far from the river Ribble. If I
did
manage to get back safely with the dagger, I wouldn’t have far to go to find Tom Ward again.
I selected a lonely spot, sat in the long grass and made myself comfortable with my back against a tree. I was scared, my whole body trembling, so I took long, slow, deep breaths to calm myself. Then I waited for the conditions to become right.
It happened very close to dusk.
Everything became still and quiet, just as I knew it would. Pan was nearby. It was as if he were just behind a curtain, so close I could have touched him.
I used my magic and tried to enter his domain. It was much more difficult than I expected – it took me a long time to find a way in. It was like searching for a tiny lock in a big door with my eyes blindfolded. It was difficult to locate, and it resisted my attempts for so long that I thought I was sure to fail. Then, very suddenly, I was in, and a mixture of feelings raced through me: elation at my success; nervousness at entering Pan’s domain; and a touch of fear.
I was standing close to a lake that was gleaming bright green. Above, the sky was dark so I knew it wasn’t reflected light.
Everything
around me was glowing with that same green – even the tree trunks. Green is the colour of Nature. Green is the colour of Pan.
At the river margin were tall reeds, and beyond them, on
the far bank, thin ash saplings, but all was absolutely still. Nothing moved but my chest, which was rising and falling rapidly. I took three deep breaths, trying to slow down my heart.
I had to stay calm.
Just beyond the saplings was the edge of a forest – tall deciduous trees of a type I didn’t recognize. They were covered in blossoms that suggested early spring – but rather than being pink or white, they were green too.
It was as if the forest were alive and listening to my fluttery breaths and the
thumpety-bump
of my heart. The word ‘panic’ comes from Pan’s name; they say that if he appears in his terrible form, a strong sense of dread is experienced at his approach. Few have lived to tell the tale.
Was he approaching in that aspect now? If so, I wasn’t feeling the dread.
At that moment I heard high, thin musical notes in the distance. Could it be Pan in his more benign form, playing his reed pipes?
I could only hope for the best.
So I circled the green lake, pushed my way through the thicket of saplings and entered the forest. I hurried towards the sound of the music and came to a wide clearing that was thick with ferns. At its centre they had been flattened by many creatures: hares, rabbits, rats, mice, voles, a couple of badgers and a bushy-tailed red fox, while above, the branches were laden with birds. All were silent and still, held in thrall to the source of that exquisite music.
Looking like a young, pale-faced, fair-haired boy, Pan
was sitting on a log playing a reed pipe, just as I remembered him. His clothes seemed to be made out of grass, leaves and bark. The face appeared human, but the ears that poked out through his long unkempt hair were elongated and pointy. I also noticed the green toenails of his bare feet. They were so long that each curled upwards into a spiral.
The Old God looked at me and stopped playing. Immediately the spell of the music was broken, and the creatures of the forest fled, while the birds soared up into the sky, making the branches overhead dance. Moments later we were alone.
He glared at me and his face began to distort into something fierce and bestial. I felt a cold dread wash over me. In seconds the boy would be gone and I would face his other terrible aspect.
‘Please! Please!’ I cried. ‘I’m Alice. Remember me? You helped me once before. Please listen to me. Didn’t mean to cause any offence, did I?’
To my relief, the change stopped and slowly reversed until I was looking at the boy once more – though his face looked very serious, without even a hint of a smile. Then it flickered with anger.
‘You assume too much,’ he snarled. ‘Tell me why I shouldn’t strike you dead on the spot.’
‘Don’t mean no harm,’ I told him. ‘Sorry to intrude without permission. Helped me once before, you did, and I’m really grateful for that. And now I need your help again. I have to fetch something from the dark, and this is the safest place
I could think of to enter. Got lots of enemies here, I have. But I know they won’t dare come here because of you.’
‘But
you
dared! And there is a price to pay for such presumption.’
‘I’ll pay whatever you want,’ I told him, ‘as long as you don’t take away my life. I ain’t afraid to die – we all got to go sometime – but I need to give it to someone else. My life has to be sacrificed. Help me, please. I have to find a blade that’s hidden under the Fiend’s throne. Just guide me to the edge of his domain and let me escape back this way afterwards . . . That’s all I ask.’
Pan looked intrigued. ‘And why is the recovery of this blade so important?’
I had learned that I was to be the sacrifice by scrying, but later, when Tom Ward lay unconscious, recovering from his battle with Siscoi, the vampire god, I’d taken the letter from his pocket and read it several times, so that I’d remember it. I saw no reason why I shouldn’t now tell the god. After all, he already knew how we’d bound the Fiend. It was that weakening of the Fiend’s power which had made it possible for Pan to return me to the world above.
‘We need three sacred objects for the ritual that’ll destroy the Fiend for all time – the hero swords forged by the old blacksmith god. They must be present when Tom Ward carries it out.’
‘These blades are known to me,’ said Pan. ‘And they have brought much misery and suffering to humans. Which one is hidden here in the dark?’
‘Tom already has the Destiny Blade and Bone Cutter. The one I’m here to find is the one called Dolorous,’ I told him.
‘Ah, but the Blade of Sorrow is by far the worst of the three. It would be better for humankind if it were not returned to your world.’
‘But by using it we can destroy our worst enemy.’
Pan slowly shook his head and regarded me with an expression of extreme pity. ‘Foolish human – don’t you see what will happen? You may be able to destroy the Fiend, but you cannot destroy the dark, for it will always find a way to achieve balance with the light. End the present situation and a new equilibrium will develop. Destroy the dark’s most powerful entity, and another will eventually grow in power and replace it.’
These were not words I wanted to hear. Did it mean I was going to sacrifice my life for nothing? But that was for the long-term; it was the situation
now
we had to deal with. What happened in the distant future seemed less important.
‘If that happens, it happens, and I can’t do nothing about it, can I? But we have already attacked the Fiend and hurt him badly. If he recovers and returns to his former power, his revenge will be terrible. Ain’t just talking about me, Tom and Old Gregory – the whole world will suffer. So we got to stop him somehow. And the ritual has to be carried out this coming Halloween or it will be too late.’
Pan stared at me for a long time and my knees began to tremble. I had strong magic at my disposal, and for a moment I thought about using it, but I knew that I had no chance
against one of the Old Gods in the heart of his territory. He might kill me on the spot, and all I’d done would have been for nothing.
Then he gave me a quick nod. ‘Tell me more about the ritual,’ he commanded.
‘It has to be done on a special hill in the County called the Wardstone. A forge has to be built there,’ I explained. ‘The victim must not cry out, no matter how terrible the pain. The dagger called Bone Cutter is well named – that is the blade that will cut the thumb-bones from her. If she cries out when the bones of her right hand are cut away, the sacrifice fails. After the bones have been thrown into the fire, a second cut does the same to the left hand. The other dagger, the one I’ve come to get, is then used to cut out the victim’s heart, which is cast, still beating, into the flames.’
‘You say the “sacrifice”, the “thumb-bones” and the “victim’s heart” as if they belong to somebody else. But this terrible thing will be done to
you
! Do you not know this?’ Pan asked me.
I nodded and, unable to meet his fierce gaze, lowered my eyes. ‘Of course I know. Detaching my mind from it is the only way I can deal with it . . .’
‘Do you think when it comes to the sacrifice that you will be able to endure the pain? When they cut the bones from your hand, your body may disobey you and cry out anyway. To be human is to be weak – for you creatures some things are simply impossible to bear.’
‘Just do my best – that’s all anybody can do, ain’t it?’
Pan nodded, and for the first time he didn’t look quite so angry. When he replied, his voice was gentler.
‘You may be foolish, human, but you are also brave. I will escort you across my land and start you on the next stage of your journey.’
We travelled in silence, Pan about five paces ahead, striding out through the trees. All was still and our journey seemed endless, for it was difficult to judge the passing of time in the dark. And that was a worry.
From my last visit I knew that time behaved differently here: it seemed as if I’d spent long years as a prisoner of the Fiend, but on my return to earth I found it had been mere weeks. I knew the reverse could happen too. For all I knew, time might be passing more rapidly back in the County, where now only four months remained before Halloween. Even if I did succeed in retrieving the dagger, it might be too late.
The forest was beginning to thin out now, the large ancient trees giving way to saplings and scrub. Directly ahead I could see what appeared to be a vast, featureless plain divided by a path that began just beyond the final tree. Beyond the green glow from the forest the land was dark – but for this narrow path, which was formed of tiny white stones.
‘I must leave you now,’ Pan said. ‘Follow the white path across the abyss that lies between each domain. It will take you into the next one.’
‘Into the territory of the Fiend?’ I asked.
Pan shook his head. ‘Who can say? The domains of the dark constantly shift and change in relation to each other. Nothing stays the same for long. But if you can eventually find your way back here, I will help you return to your own world. But
you entered my domain without an invitation, so remember that before doing so I will demand that you pay the price of your presumption.’
I stared at the path for a moment longer, and when I turned back to ask Pan what the price was, he had already gone.
I was standing still, but the green trees were receding. As I watched, the forest quickly shrank until it was no larger than the moon back on earth. A moment later it was no bigger than a star, and then it vanished completely. Had it grown smaller or had it simply moved further away? It was impossible to tell.
I was alone, and now all around me was darkness. I sniffed three times, checking for danger. All seemed well, so I stepped onto the path and began to walk, the stones crunching loudly with each cautious step of my pointy shoes. It was perfectly straight, becoming fainter and fainter until, in the distance, it appeared to be no more than a fine line. Only the white stones were visible. I began to walk faster, striding on.
Again it was hard to judge the passage of time, and I don’t know how long I’d been walking when I heard a distant howl somewhere to my left. It sounded like the hunting cry of a wolf or some other large predator.
Suddenly nervous, I increased my pace a little, listening out. I became aware of the loud crunching of my shoes on the pebble path. If it was some sort of wolf and it hadn’t sniffed my scent already, surely the sound of my footsteps would bring it in my direction? I decided to walk alongside the path rather than on it.
But when I tried to step off, my left shoe encountered no resistance. There was nothing there. No ground.
Pan had said that an abyss lay between each of the zones! And what was an abyss other than a great emptiness, a bottomless pit?
Pitching forward into the darkness, I twisted desperately and managed to fall sideways, back onto the path. Then, my heart hammering after that close call, I knelt and looked down. I could see nothing. On all sides was absolute darkness. With my left hand I reached down, but could feel nothing. What could I do but continue on my way, keeping to the path?
My heart steadying to a normal rhythm, I crunched along, trying to work out the most likely explanation for what had happened. Either the ground had just disappeared or the path had somehow climbed upwards – in which case, what was supporting it?