The Black North (9 page)

‘
This girl has heard about the gold and riches hidden beneath these boards. Heard of the treasure behind these walls stored by Slopebridge that we came to claim. She's come to steal it from us, to take what belongs to no one but us!
'

Oona cried out, ‘No! Look: I don't want any bloody treasure or whatever you're talking about, so you can get that idea out of your head!'

But the voice from the chimney breast told her cold –

‘
Enough. We are men of honour, of dignity, and we tell nothing but the truth. And I tell you one thing for true: as sure as I'm a man of Drumbroken, as surely as I drove that fool and coward Slopebridge from this place, you won't be leaving here alive with our treasure. Get her!
'

‘No!'

Oona screamed and abandoned the candle bracket: fleeing and just leaving the stone wherever it lay was all she thought of. But again she was spun by whirling dark and this time fell – her skull met stone, spine met broken floor, and her fingers met something else. Something warming? At Oona's touch, the stone Granny Kavanagh had given glowed and gave enough light for Oona to rise, to feel she could fight. She stood and brandished it like it might be a weapon. Then words as well as images crowded her, a deep knowing –

‘You all burned here because you were too selfish to leave it all when it was going up in flames!' she told the walls. ‘Too bloody stupid to go back to your families, too greedy! You came here to get rid of Slopebridge and then stayed to tear up floorboards looking for what he took, and you didn't care whether you died or not!'

The walls calmed, a little: looked like they were breathing, trembling. And what remained of the men said –

‘
How dare you come and judge what we did so harshly!
'

‘
We should be heroes for what we did that night for the sake of Drumbroken!
'

‘
Aye! We drove out Slopebridge!
'

‘
He would've had us all in an early grave if he'd kept on the way he was going!
'

‘
Working us day and night, putting the rents up and up and up!
'

‘
We needed to act or else –
'

‘Else what?' said Oona. She stepped forwards and stood on the brink of black. ‘He put you in your graves anyway!'

As the words left Oona's mouth she saw violent past and dark present together: figures at her feet tearing, men with as much burning in their hearts as there was in the Big House, flames edging in … Oona shook her head. She swallowed and said, ‘I know what you did. I know you shouldn't have stayed and burned, it only let Slopebridge win. And he got away, didn't he? He lived on and all of you died.'

‘
Chased out of this Blessed Isle, he was!
'

‘
Aye! I can still see the look on his face, the big bulging eyes on him!
'

‘
And how he tripped and wept like a child, begging us to spare him!
'

‘
Some things are more important than staying living!
'

‘
What's the point in a life led without pride or honour or cause?
'

‘
We got rid of him and that's that!
'

But, Oona thought, were the voices weaker, more unsure? And the deepest and slowest of them all – that voice was staying silent.

‘Aye,' said Oona, ‘you got rid is right. But then what happened? He went across the sea and told those over the water what we were like. Must've told them what barbarians and all we were, and then, not long after, the Invaders came. Blessed Isle became Divided Isle.'

Oona didn't know how she knew this, but knew she spoke the truth.

There was no answer for her, no other word from the walls. And in Oona's hands there was a sudden chill – the stone was cooling, had (for the moment) given all its secrets, felt fragile. And then the voice that had been silent spoke, deepest and slowest –

‘
You say these things, child, but it is a knowledge gained without
learning.
'

Oona opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted.

‘
No disagreement, girl. I know you're fond of it, but this you
cannot argue with. You do not know what you carry, but I do. It
was something given you, a something you don't yet understand.
'

‘What is it then?' asked Oona. ‘If you know so much –
tell
.'

Voice: ‘
It is a something more powerful and dangerous than
you have ever dreamed of.
'

Oona didn't speak then. She held the stone closer, like someone might reach out, snatch.

‘
Tell me your name,
' said the voice.

Oona said, proud as she ever was of herself, ‘I'm of the family Kavanagh. My mam gave me the name Oona. It means “Unity”.'

A softest sigh from this someone unseen. The deep and slow (and now soft) voice replied –

‘
Kavanagh? Thought as much. Now – do you know my name?
'

‘I do,' Oona found herself saying. She waited. And the stone passed her truth: ‘You're a Kavanagh too. You're my great-grandfather.'

‘
I am. I was given the name Aedan. It means “Born of Fire”.
'

‘How did I know all this?' asked Oona, hearing a helplessness in her own voice that she couldn't hide. ‘What is this stone? Where did it come from?'

The walls shivered, shadows shrinking.

‘
Where has it come from?
' repeated the voice of her great-grandfather.
‘It comes from the ages, from the blood and broken bones of history itself – from the nightmare of the past. What is it called? Has been called many a thing in its time: the Knowing Stone, the Darkness and the Seeing, the Nightmare Stone. But the name my wife always gave it before she handed it down to your grandmother was this: the Loam Stone.'

Oona looked – the Loam Stone's light was low, a slither and flicker, but at the same time so very fierce. It might have been small but the ardency of its convictions were great, and too much to be looked at. Oona had to turn her gaze.

‘Your wife?' she asked.

‘
It is an object that has been passed down through generations of Kavanagh women,
' said her great-grandfather. ‘
An object that allows you to know the most painful of things. Allows you to see all darkness, all nightmares. And through such dark – all truth.
'

‘I woke and I'd been dreaming,' said Oona. ‘But not like normal dreaming. I saw the burning, the screaming here in this Big House …'

‘
When you are dreaming,
' said Aedan Kavanagh, in a voice only just above a whisper, ‘
you are defenceless, and that is when it likes to take hold. For years, whichever of the Kavanagh women had it in their custody would sleep with it under their pillow. And during the night it would feed on all pain and discomfort, all anguish of the family. Have you ever, Oona, had a dream like the one that woke you earlier? The one that brought you here? Tell.
'

Oona remembered that voice she'd heard in the Kavanagh cottage – the set of promises, of threats uttered in her mind before her granny had clouted her awake.

‘Yes,' she said.

‘
Only once? Because your grandmother had been burdened with all nightmares for all the years of your life. Same as all the Kavanagh women who came before her and slept with the Loam Stone close – they would wake in the morning and know their family better than they knew themselves, know her husband better than he liked to admit. The women of the house would know all, and endure all pain and nightmares for the sake of the family.
'

Oona remembered her granny Kavanagh – confused, plagued. She felt closer to understanding. ‘My granny,' she said, ‘could see things that were happening elsewhere. She knew things.'

‘
Over time the power of the Stone can stretch,
' said her great-grandfather. ‘
It can sense the nightmares and fears of the family even when they are not at home.
' Another slow sigh. ‘
It is a terrible thing to bear, Oona. A burden that my wife, in the end …
' The voice of Aedan Kavanagh went silent.

‘Then I should get rid of it,' said Oona. ‘I don't want it. Don't want to know these things.'

‘
I would agree if we were in more peaceful times. But that object is something you cannot surrender, not to anyone.
'

‘The Invaders are looking for it,' said Oona. ‘They're taking the boys and asking them for information about it.'

‘
In their foolishness,
' said Aedan, ‘
they think that something so powerful must be kept among men, passed from father to son.
It gives you an advantage, for the time being.
'

‘Not much chance of that seeing as she's planning on carrying it up with her into the Black North!'

Oona turned: a jackdaw was perched in an empty window-frame.

‘I thought I told you to stay put!' said Merrigutt. In one swoop she was in front of Oona and no longer a bird but back to an old woman, pointing, nagging: ‘If we're going to survive then you'll have to start doing as I bid! You've no self-control in you at all!'

‘
Now don't be so harsh on her, Evelyn,
' said Aedan Kavanagh. ‘
She's already learned the trick of resisting the Stone, was able to pull herself away from it and able to pull out what knowledge she liked. More importantly – she wasn't driven mad by it, and there's been many's a Kavanagh woman who has seen that sad fate. I would say that shows some self-control, wouldn't you?
'

Merrigutt said nothing.

Oona said to the old woman, ‘You knew I had this or knew it was in the Kavanagh family – that's why you came to the Tower and took such an interest, isn't it?'

‘I needed to make sure,' said Merrigutt, not looking at Oona, ‘for the good of us all, that the Stone didn't drop into the hands of the Invaders. But like I say – some chance of that now!'

‘You should've not lied and just told me,' said Oona.

‘You were supposed to be taking it South and to safety!' said Merrigutt.

‘
There's no safety now, Evelyn,
' said Oona's great-grandfather.

‘I told her that too!' said Oona.

‘
We've heard whispers from the forest, from the many Invaders passing by – they are moving across the Divide in vast numbers, bringing with them all magic they can summon, all creatures they can recruit. Soon the South will be as Black as the North.
'

Then another of the men spoke from the walls –

‘
You plan to go North, into the Black?
'

‘We do,' said Merrigutt. ‘Apparently.' She gave Oona such a look, could've curdled milk.

‘My brother Morris is there,' said Oona. She looked to the shape of her great-grandfather that haunted the chimney-breast. ‘That's why I'm going. He was captured and I want him back. I'll not lie – he's a pain in the arse most times, but he's all I've got now.'

Oona heard the same long, slow sigh from Aedan Kavanagh. Then he said: ‘
Tis a foolish folly indeed, heading into the Black.
'

‘Exactly!' said Merrigutt.

‘
And I don't have the heart to tell you what awaits you beyond the Divide.
'

‘Are you listening, my girl?' said Merrigutt, giving Oona a sharp nudge.

‘
But.
' A pause. ‘
I can think of no greater reason to do such a foolish thing than for family, and no greater fool to do it than a Kavanagh.
'

Oona smiled the kind of smile she hadn't smiled for too long a time. Merrigutt muttered, ‘Heavens-and-the-Sorrowful-Lady-herself help us!'

Then other words entered the room, which sent shivers everywhere. The sound of outside voices –

‘She came up the slope here, I can see tracks. Search the house from top to bottom, every room and crack and cupboard!'

The walls all whispered: ‘
Invaders! Invaders! They're coming!
'

‘A way out, Aedan,' said Merrigutt, and she was once more a jackdaw, again on Oona's shoulder with claws closing tight. ‘Fast as you could would be appreciated.'

Another pause, then the echo of Oona's great-grandfather breathed, ‘
Into the fireplace
.
Hurry.
'

Oona had to edge around the opening in the floor, the men on all walls cowering, their darkness slipping low to the skirting-boards, skulking. Then the voice of an Invader, inside the Big House, too close: ‘You three go upstairs, the rest search this level and anything below.'

‘Aedan,' said Merrigutt, ‘is that him? The Faceless?'

Oona whispered, ‘Who are you talking about?'

Voice from the hall: ‘I sense something close. This way …' Then Merrigutt and her great-grandfather both: ‘
Quick!
'

Oona found the fireplace, ducked down and crouched in its emptiness. She felt like a child seeking not to be seen and futile in her effort.

Then a voice: ‘There she is.'

Oona saw a figure in the doorway. And she wanted to believe that the dark was confusing her: what she saw was a figure with arms hanging almost to the floor and wearing an Invader uniform, on its shoulder a small bird with crimson eyes. And surely some trick, some devilry in the dark air – the figure had no face, wore only grey-white blankness for an expression, like a grubby page awaiting scrawl.

A voice coming from somewhere near this faceless Invader said again: ‘There she is.'

And long-armed and long-legged, the Invader moved in two strides to clear the chasm with hands outstretched, reaching for Oona –

Then, all in the same moment –