Muse (Tales of Silver Downs Book 1) (21 page)

Owain nodded towards the other side of the cavern.
 

Bramble's gaze too was on the opening that hadn't been there before.

"Let's go then," I said.

We walked across the cavern, our footsteps echoing in the stillness.
 

Were we making an awful mistake? The fey wanted something from me, but exactly what, I had no idea. They had interfered from the first day of my journey when they lured me from my path with the promise of water. But if I hadn't strayed, I wouldn't have found Bramble. Perhaps they meant for that to occur but what possible reason could they have? What use was a dog to the fey?
 

Then there was Owain. If I hadn't strayed from my original route, Bramble and I would not have emerged from the woods right as Owain happened by. And if the three of us had not decided to pass a rainy night in a certain barn, we would not have discovered Rhiwallon hiding there. And all of that had led us to here and now: Rhiwallon abducted by the fey for some reason we could only guess at but which maybe had something to do with my quest.

If we were somewhere deep in the land of the fey, as I suspected, these tunnels might lead on forever, endlessly twisting and turning. Branching paths could leave us hopelessly lost.

"We need to mark the paths we take," I said. "This opening wasn't here before. Or maybe it was hidden from us. There's no telling how many others there might be, openings that will appear as we pass or close after we enter. We need to know which way we came."

"If I had my axe…" Owain said, empty hands clenched.

I remembered the dagger in my boot. Would the fey notice if I used it in here? I hesitated with my hand halfway to my boot. The dagger was our only weapon other than Rhiwallon's bow, which was too small for Owain. I might be able to use it but I was an unreliable shot and not likely to be able to defend us.

Owain fumbled in his pack and retrieved a small bronze brooch. The yellow gem set in the front gleamed dully. A faint blush tinged his cheeks. "Thought I might want something to remember her by." He extended the pin and scratched a small sigil — a simple cross — next to the exit. "Let's go find the girl."

The tunnel was lit with the same sickly green light. Just enough to see by, not enough to see clearly. We had barely gone a hundred paces before we faced three branching tunnels. The ones to the left and right were tinged with green. As I peered down the central tunnel, an invisible hand gripped my stomach. Dread and danger emanated from this tunnel and it was lit by a red glow.

Bramble sniffed the entrances to the tunnels, lingering at each before she moved on. Then she stood in front of the central tunnel. Her tail was tucked firmly between her legs and her small body quivered.

"No, Bramble, not that one," I said.

She looked up at me and sniffed.

"She has led us true this far," Owain said. His face was pale but his voice was steady.

I looked from Owain to Bramble and the fist gripping my stomach now clutched my bowels as well.

"Are you sure, Bramble?" I asked. "Perhaps they took her down one of the other passages."

She sniffed at me again and looked towards the red tunnel.

"If Rhiwallon went that way, no point going another way," Owain said.
 

His matter-of-fact tone shamed me. Owain was right: if she had been taken down this passage, that was where we too would go. I nodded and Owain pulled out his brooch to mark the wall with a cross.

Menace pervaded the red-lit tunnel. Nausea rose in my throat and I swallowed it back down. We walked slowly, cautiously, but the tunnel stretched ahead, silent and empty and threateningly red. My heart hammered and my nerves were on edge as I braced myself for something to happen.

Owain's breathing was loud and ragged, and mine wasn't much quieter. The sense of impending danger magnified with each step until I was sure I would scream if something didn't happen shortly. We had not gone far, maybe a few hundred paces and two twists of the tunnel, before we reached another branching passage. Two tunnels yawned ahead of us. One was lit with the familiar green light and the other with the sinister red.

We stopped and both Owain and I looked to Bramble for guidance. She sniffed briefly at the green passage and then stood at the mouth of the red one.
 

I breathed deeply and forced my fists to unclench. Blood oozed from where my nails had cut into my palms. My legs still wobbled and nausea filled my stomach. Owain's face was pale, his eyes large. Bramble trembled, tail tucked between her legs. I forced my legs to move. They wobbled but at least they held me up. My mouth was dry and sweat trickled down between my shoulder blades.
 

The red tunnel ended abruptly and without incident. A cavern yawned ahead of us. Unlike the previous one, which was empty and lit by clean, white light, this cavern was filled with red and the same sense of menace as the tunnel. The air felt too thick to breathe and the rosy haze distorted my perception of distance. The walls faded into the redly opaque air.
 

The cavern was filled with huge mounds of fallen rock, everything from pebbles to boulders the height of three men. An enormous web hung from the roof and stretched out of sight, a web which could not have been made by any ordinary beast but one which was hundreds, maybe thousands, of times larger. It covered easily a quarter of the cavern's roof. I had no wish to encounter any beast that could create a web so large.

"She could be in here," Owain said.

I was reluctant to agree but he was right. "How do we search this without getting separated? There could be anything behind the rocks. A big hole or… I don't know, a creature of some sort."

Owain scooped Bramble up. "I'll carry her. Just to be safe."

"We need a plan," I said.

Owain pointed towards the nearest corner. "We zigzag. This way first and then back, until we reach the web."

"And we always pass the rocks on the right side."

We set off, walking slowly, scanning the area for any sign of Rhiwallon. Rocks taller than I prevented me from seeing anything more than my immediate surroundings. I soon became dizzy with the effort to trying to look everywhere at once, up and down, left and right. The fey path would not have led us here if there wasn't some clue to be found. I didn't dare hope Rhiwallon herself would be here but there must be something they wanted us to find. The key, perhaps. The key that would be in plain view.

Step by step, we searched, passing to the right around each tower of rocks. I tried not to imagine Rhiwallon's body crushed beneath them. The tales said the fey wouldn't deliberately harm a human, but it was possible they might injure her through carelessness. I found myself inspecting the base of each rocky pile for a protruding hand or foot.
 

It felt like we walked for hours but at the same time, it seemed like nothing. With each step, I was acutely aware of the diminishing space yet to be searched. I grew less and less hopeful of finding any clue to Rhiwallon's location. Was this just another trick, another way to delay us?

I replayed the riddle in my mind. It contained no obvious reference to time, but from what I knew of the fey, it was likely that if we took too long, Rhiwallon would be lost for ever. Even if the riddle did not mention a deadline, the creature that inhabited the web would not stay away from its home forever. And the longer we lingered here, the more time was passing in our own world. Every day here brought the new moon one night nearer and Ida that little bit closer to being unstoppable.

Step by step, we drew ever closer to the enormous web.

I no longer feel Diarmuid. Is he dead? Surely I would know if he was. I would feel some parting of our connection, a breach, a severing. But this does not feel like a parting. He has simply… disappeared. I no longer feel my beast either. It is most curious and I do not know what to make of their disappearance.

Without Diarmuid to fill my senses, I feel oddly empty. He is a part of me in a way I never understood before. I had thought I could simply leave his head and never think of him again. But we are irrevocably joined. Now he is gone and I am alone.

What will I do if Diarmuid doesn't reappear? I shall go on as I have been, I suppose. I shall continue cleansing my village. And when I am done, what then? Another village perhaps? It seems somewhat pointless now if I can never show Diarmuid what I have done, how hard I have worked to rid my village of its taint. I can never hope he will be proud of me, that he might join me so we can work side by side, a bard and his muse. I cannot be a muse if I have no bard. Without Diarmuid, I no longer know what I am.

Secure in Owain's arms, I puzzled over our strange situation as we scoured the rocky cavern. Whoever had snatched Rhiwallon made no attempt to hide their scent. It was almost as if they wanted us to follow. We could ill afford any delay although it was possible, perhaps even probable, that time in the fey tunnels was not passing for us at the same speed as time in the mortal world.

The odour that had led us here was odd. It wasn't human but neither did it smell like any animal I knew. It was a blend of every flower I had ever smelled mixed with something smoky and a trace of rotting leaves. It lingered so strongly that I wondered how Diarmuid and Owain couldn't smell it themselves.
 

Was my ability to track Rhiwallon's abductor the reason the fey girl had sent me on this journey in such a form? I had thought that perhaps she meant for me to play some part in Diarmuid's quest to stop his muse. But my only abilities were charms and cures, and the visions over which I had no control. What could I possibly do to aid him, especially in this form, if not to lead him to Rhiwallon?

The Sight had given no hint of this strange journey into the fey lands, but the vision in which I saw myself, in my own form, step forward to speak to Titania gave me hope I would eventually be returned to my own body.

I suddenly realised that, as usual, I had wandered off into my own thoughts instead of paying attention to the task at hand. I turned my mind back to the search for Rhiwallon. My tail snaked down between my legs every time I looked at the web in the far corner of the cavern. I did not want to meet the creature who inhabited it.

Tucked under Owain's arm, I could feel his heart beating too quickly. He was scared, although on the outside, he appeared as steadfast and implacable as ever. My paw ached and I had been thankful when Owain noticed my limp. I would have felt bad about burdening him with my weight, slight as it was, except that he barely seemed to notice. If he felt fatigue, he never showed it.
 

Diarmuid had started falling behind somewhere around the time we stopped to sleep in the green-lit tunnels. He never complained but Owain slowed his pace. I noticed too as the water ran low that Owain barely drank anything, merely wetting his lips to leave more for Diarmuid and I. He was a good man, Owain, and deserved far better than Maeve, however much he adored her.

As we searched the cavern, I kept tasting the air. The scent of Rhiwallon's attacker lingered strongly in here and beneath it I thought I detected the faintest trace of Rhiwallon herself. She was close, I was sure of that. If she wasn't still in this red-shrouded cavern, then she had been here very recently.

Finally, the only place left to search was behind the web itself. As we drew closer, I realised it was even more mammoth than I had thought. Each sticky strand was as thick as a man's finger. Something loomed on the other side, obscured by the web and the red murkiness.
 

The web was securely anchored to the floor and sides and ceiling of the cavern. There was no way to creep around it. It seemed someone must put their head through to see what was on the other side. Given that I was the smallest, it should have been me but I lacked the ability to convey whatever I saw. Owain was too big. It would have to be Diarmuid.

My heart stuttered as I watched Diarmuid drop his pack and take a deep breath, steadying himself. He too had realised it must be him. He was still something of a mystery to me, a strange contradiction with his claim to be able to bring his tales to life coupled with an utter lack of intuition. I owed him my life but there was also something else I felt, although it was still new and I hadn't let myself examine it fully. Despite his flaws, despite his complete inability to listen to me, I felt an ache in my heart when he was out of sight. A leap in my blood when he returned. Disappointment he couldn't see me for what I really was. And hope that perhaps one day he would.

As I stared up at the web, my courage faltered. Had I the strength to run away, and enough supplies to last until I found a way out of this place, I would have fled, however much of a coward that made me.
 

"I'll do it," I said, reluctantly. "My head is smaller than yours."
 

I half-hoped Owain would disagree but he said nothing, only picked up an orange rock the size of my head and hefted it. It gave me some small amount of comfort to know that he would be waiting here, ready to defend me.
 

I dropped my pack on the ground. My legs already trembled so violently that I feared they might fail to hold me. I pictured myself falling forward into the web, trapped in its sticky strands and unable to free myself before its owner returned.

I met Bramble's eyes and she stared at me, unblinking. Her sense of smell was keen. Surely she would know if some otherworldly beast waited on the other side of the web. Surely she would try to alert me if she thought danger was imminent.

Slowly, slowly, I inserted my head between the threads, careful not to touch them.

At first, all I could see was more rocks. Just another enormous tower of rocks streaked with grey and purple and red, even larger than those we had spent the last hour circling around.