The Stumpwork Robe (The Chronicles of Eirie 1) (10 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Journeying through the Barrow Hills took some days as the formations undulated to the very edges of the Great Lakes. Winding down off the final Barrow, the companions found themselves by the edges of a mirror-form watery swathe. Scattered and dotted like so many puddles across the landscape, the pools seemed at once eye catching and troubling. They reflected the sky in its turbid, grey glory and it seemed to the companions as if they stared down on holes ripped in the fabric of the earth, that a window on an entire other world was opened before them. Behind the Lakes like the painted backdrop in a theatre, the beginning of the Goti mountain range crept upward and hidden in its jagged confines, bedecked by frost and snow, climbed that most famous of roads, the Celestine Stairway.

‘Ana,’ Adelina grabbed at Ana’s sleeve. ‘These lakes are renowned for the Nicker, for all manner of water wights, mostly all unseelie. The Cwn Annwn, the Brag, Urisks - Aine help us! You must promise me you will have your rowan crook by your side constantly until we make the safety of Star on the Stair. Promise me.’ The Traveller brooked no argument. Her fine brows drew together with concern and she squeezed Ana’s hands in her own, despite the fact Ana was working with a birchwood hoop, needle and thread at the time.

‘I will, I promise.’ The young woman laughed at Adelina’s protective angst. ‘Aine knows you have been tutoring me mercilessly about the unseelie out the
re.’ She gestured with her hoop. ‘Anyway, how long will it take to get to Star? Oh, Adelina, I’m so excited. To be at the foot of the Celestine Stairway. I never thought to reach this far in my whole life. It was always somewhere that held my imagination in Pa’s stories, some eldritch place where one could climb to the very stars.’

‘Trust me
muirnin,
the heights of which you speak are truly vertiginous and one wrong step and you may well be in your very own land of stars. And to answer your question... we are far enough away for you, indeed for us all to be in mortal peril wherever we turn. Now pack up your sewing. I need help to unload my silver charms and my special talismans. We must hang them all around the windows and doors of the van and over Ajax.’

Kholi Khatoun had heard this exchange and commented in a voice as
dry as the desert sands. ‘Doveheart, I’ll wager you have more bells and whistles than a Raji orchestra in that van of yours. Why do we worry though? Have we not got an Other with us to protect us?’ He bowed towards Liam and touched his forehead and his chest. His cream and blue striped robes fell in folds down Mogu’s sides and wound themselves together with the saddle tassels into thick twists, forming ropes of thread and colour.
Liam gave a courtly bow in return, looking sideways at Ana and winking.

‘Huh, yes, well...’ Adelina grumbled and swept up from the seat behind Ajax into the van, with her basket of threads trailing over her arm.

By afrits and djinns, Kholi thought, she draws me to her like water to a sponge. As he stared at her, seduced by the hint of a shapely calf disappearing into the van, he realised Liam had been talking to him. ‘A thousand pardons. What were you saying?’

‘You are badly struck, aren’t you?’ Liam laughed.

‘And you are not?’ Kholi responded as he gathered up the loose reins on either side of Mogu’s hairy neck.

Liam was silent for a thoughtful minute and then he
smiled. ‘Perhaps but it is difficult. We are not of a kind and to be truthful she rarely shows me any more than mild favour.’

‘Come now. I have seen more than mild favour when she has cast glances at you, surreptitious though she thinks they are.’ Kholi looked at Liam riding beside him, at the other-worldliness of his bearing, his looks, the depth of his eyes, the aura of strangeness and yet not about him. Stealthily, Kholi pinched himself, something he did a dozen times a day, to remind himself he was in the presence of an Other. In the Amritsands, few would believe him.

‘You think? She is more disdainful than any Other I can think of.’

Kholi ran his fingers briskly back and forth through the black hair that
curled freely whilst on the road. He welcomed the thought of bathing in warm water at Star and lathering his head to release its curlicews. ‘Not at all, she is a fragile thing who is still grieving for her father and dealing with the after effects of a brutal assault. In truth it is a wonder she allows any man to talk to her, let alone touch her. Any bravado you might see, my friend, is merely that... bravado.’

Liam said nothing in reply and
they rode companionably along, allowing the honking sounds of waterfowl to fill the silence between them.

‘Liam?’ said Kholi.

‘Yes, my friend?’ He sat easily in the saddle almost as if he were glued to the horse as Florien frisked sideways.

‘Adelina and I have become fond of her. She is by default our family. Have a care for her and beware of hurting her.’

‘I hear what you say.’ With that Liam dug his heels into his horse’s sides and set off at a canter round the edge of one of the lakes, his horse looking as if it was floating just above the ground in order to miss the mud and mire of the swampy surrounds.

The journeymen splashed through tiny pools secreted under silver button-grass and grey tussock. Occasionally, they trod through a shadowed passage
of stone pines, the trees arching their odd buttress shape over their heads whilst neither Ajax’s nor Mogu’s feet made any sound on the scattered pine needles. It was a stealthy passing, as though they travelled on tiptoe so as not to disturb the inhabitants of the waters, for the waters themselves inspired watchfulness and discrimination.
Kholi Khatoun and Adelina knew the dangers of the grey water; that
hidden under the silvered reflection were any manner of water wights who could shape-change and deceive and then drown the unfortunate whose luck had run out. Like the Cabyll Ushtey or perhaps the Ceffyl-Dwr, that beautiful grey horse which leaped out of the water and grabbed any lone traveller and by gripping hard would squeeze the prey to death and then kick and trample on them.

The sound of silver bells tinkled and mingled with the mournful cries of duck and water geese. Above them in v-form, a flock of black swans flew in solemn procession. Kholi performed the horn sign and Adelina shook the whip covered in bells over Ajax’s back. Ana merely remained quietly watchful, wondering more where Liam had gone than shivering at the ripples on the water or the sounds in the air.

A splash to their left engendered a heart pumping rush and heads turned in time to see water flick up in a spray of diamond drops. Something had dived in. Kholi sent a plea to the urisks to ask for their patronage, and where, Aine help them, was Liam? The mournful cries of waterfowl echoed out of the greyness and in the future Adelina would forever be reminded of the keen of the Caointeach - the small woman dressed in green who washed bloodstained linen by a stream, her woeful wails the harbinger of death and doom. The embroiderer shivered on the stoop of her van, the spasmodic cries setting her teeth on edge, little goosebumps racing each other up her arms to seethe in a cluster under her armpits. Her grip on the whip tightened and she could see Ajax’s ears laying flat against his skull as the normally mesmeric tail lashed left and right.

A sound cracked into the air, echoing like a harquebus shot. The van lurched sideways and Ajax skittered as the vehicle dragged precariously, the wheel split and broken. Kholi hissed and hustled Mogu to kneel, chafing at their position in the middle of this watery plateau that was as cold as a cemetery. A cry behind them curdled blood as Adelina leaped from the stoop. Time was of the essence and the day began to draw in as if someone pulled a drape across a window, blotting out light, depositing them in the middle of a shadow that smacked of things dangerous and dank.

‘Adelina, it will be impossible for us to fix this! And I cannot leave you alone here while I get help.’ Kholi rubbed a hand over his face.

‘And I do not intend for you to move an inch away from us, Kholi.’ She looked over her shoulder, checking, surveying. ‘But I have a prop under the van. We can move the broken wheel quickly and then be ready to replace it with the spare at first light. Oh, Aine, why did this happen? This is a terrible place!’
She cast a look at the lakes vanishing into the spreading darkness
. Sounds emerged from the water; the odd cry, a garbled call. She was sure the sounds weren’t avian. She felt they were watched, could feel eyes burning into her as Kholi began to work.

The sounds from the lakes had accumulated as the dusk lengthened into night. Adelina rolled her eyes and made the sign of the horns but Ana merely smiled and raised her eyebrows. Unaffected by the screams and moans beyond the camp, child of the Weald that she was, she reflected how far she had come in such a short space of time. Loss, grief, anger, even hate for a moment had receded to a comfortable distance. For the first time she was an individual of her own making. Not her Pa’s, not ‘Rotherwood’s’. Not an item to be bargained with. She was far enough away from it all to test the waters of objectivity and poked and prodded like someone with a scab, wanting to see if it still hurt.
Only a little
.
If I am afraid of anything at all, it is that I may forget my father as I move forward, and I must not. But it’s a new world and I’ll not go backwards. Besides, there is Liam.

Liam!
She drew her arms in tight to her body and sighed as she thought
of his face and remembered the feeling as he kissed the top of her head and how she had felt as she laid her own lips on his arms. In that instant in the peel tower as his arms had tugged her back against him, she felt she had been pulled into the slipstream of some fast-moving bird. Dragged along, buffeted by the power of emotional and sexual attraction. Her stomach filled with soft fluttering as if a flight of butterflies tickled its walls, delicious and disturbing. The same kind of feeling occurred when Liam brushed against her or when his eyes met hers. She tried to pierce the shadows beyond the stone pines.
Where are you?

‘We must be up early, Ana. Before dawn. As soon as the new wheel is on we must be gone to Star. I’ll not stay another night here by the Lakes, it makes my skin crawl.’ As Adelina spoke, she wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered.

Kholi pulled her against him. ‘Do not fret, love. We have fire, silver bells and talismans. We shall retire to our beds and sleep with our clothes back to front and inside out if it will make you feel better and we shall allow no one,’ Kholi leaned forward and eyed Ana, ‘to convince us to open our doors to them all night. Shall we?’

‘Oh of course not, you silly man. I’m not stupid.’ Unconcerned, Ana laughed, picked up a cushion and threw it at Kholi.

‘Ana, I am serious. Shape shifting is common amongst unseelie water wights. Keep your door barred and open it to no one, for Adelina and I will not be leaving the pavilion until daylight. To remain safe inside with our talismans is our only protection. If you open the door, you meet them on their terms in their territory. Do you understand?’

Ana thought Kholi was over-stating things. After all, she had lived her life surrounded by the Weald’s malign worst and she had survived. But she agreed anyway and kissed both her friends as she beat a retreat to the van. Looking back, she saw Kholi hold back the door flap of the pavilion for his ladylove and presently they were just faint shadows preparing to sleep. Ana watched the wheel glowing on the fire, its rim and spokes sparking red as a faint breeze blew over the campsite. She turned and locked the van door.

Chapter Sixteen

Liam had cantered back to Faeran through an ancient and secret gate
hidden in a dense orchard. He had avoided returning to his peers for he would not be quizzed or patronized, but he went back to find a quiet corner where he could think. To ruminate on the burgeoning comfort he began to feel in the mortal world and on the obsession with the young woman with dark hair.
Sitting by the most sublime stream in an exquisite glade, he was
unmoved, bored even, by his surroundings. The air was crystal clear, the temperature perfection but there was no stimulation. He surprised himself with the bald thought, is mortal life better? He strode back and forth, sleepless and agitated.

Sleep was not hasty in finding Ana that night either. She fretted and tossed in a lather and hungered to be in the presence of Liam. She wondered if he had cast a net over her heart as Others were rumoured to do. She threw her legs over the bed. Still dressed, ready for that early departure, she gathered up her embroidery. A stitch or two would settle her. She rummaged amongst the threads, searching for her stumpwork music box. A tune, softly played, would help sleep come as she sewed.

But it was not there.

In a fever, Ana tipped the basket on the floor and searched. The box reminded her of Pa because when Adelina gave it to her, she had an immediate need to show it to him. She had decided every one of Adelina’s expert stitches would be a token to his memory, just in case Aine forbid, she should forget him and need help in remembering. She mustn’t lose it. She tipped up this, pulled out that. Tears pricked her eyes. Apart from her cameo and the sketch of Pa, it was the thing dearest to her heart. Damn it! Grief raised its head again, always in the background, never far away. Ready to pounce, to drag her down.

‘Ana, look here, look what I have.’

She heard Liam’s voice, sighing with relief that he had come back, positive he had found the box at the foot of the van. Gratefully, joyfully, she turned the key in the lock because if the box were in her hands, then memories of Pa would stay with her, never to be lost. Liam understood this, he knew her.

‘Ana... Ana, look.’ A voice whispered from the other side of the trees as she slipped barefoot onto the ground.

‘Liam?’ She hastened round the tree trunk.

‘Here. Closer to the lake. See?’

‘Wait,’ she whispered. ‘Wait for me.’ Above her an owl hooted and she stumbled as she looked up. The lamp slipped out of her hand as she hit the ground and its friendly glow was extinguished. The dark settled on her like a shroud.

‘Liam. Where are you?’

No one answered. She sat very still and looked around, aware of an ugly emptiness. Even the campfire appeared to have gone out, everything swallowed in the blackness. No sound other than the slap-slap of wavelets on the shoreline and the honk of a lone goose calling for its mate could be heard. The uneasy quiet of a graveyard surrounded her.
She turned to go back the way she thought she had come and a light
sparkled through the trees.
The campfire!
Her breath gushed out in a big sigh. Angry with Liam now for playing with her, teasing her, she cast a look over her shoulder. ‘Liam! Don’t do this. You'll regret it.’ The anger implicit in the threat was leavened by the whisper and the whole was swallowed by the night. She headed for the candle-like glow, arms a little outstretched to avoid colliding with tree trunks and vans.

The gleam flittered and danced in front of her and she followed its path, believing she was moving toward the caravan. But after five minutes of toes sinking into watery puddles and feeling splashes of moisture dance on her calves, she stopped, concern and the faintest ripple of something-else pulling at her consciousness. ‘Liam?’ A scared whisper sighed out as she turned in a circle, confusion erasing all sense of direction. The dribble of fear that had rippled earlier now became a raging torrent as sweat began to gather across her body. Her mouth dried and she swallowed, taking shallow breaths. She ran straight ahead, terrified and barefoot into blackness until she spotted a pinprick of light dancing far ahead.
Sobbing with relief in the sucking silence of the lakeside night, she
ran faster. Water splashed and tussocks bent as she wound in and out. Always equidistant, the yellow gleam enticed her on. Soon her whole focus was that golden sheen. When she stumbled and fell to her knees amongst the puddles she noticed nothing but the light which waited mesmerisingly whilst she picked herself up and struggled on, Liam’s voice calling occasionally from a muffled distance.

As she gasped for breath, her chest sucking greedily at the night-air, something gripped her arm - cold talons whose stiletto nails hooked into the fabric of her jacket. Phantasms rose from amongst the tussocks, growing like some malodorous grey waterweed, to tangle and trip. She screamed as hollow eye sockets bent toward her sucking her into their bottomless depths. Hands brushed at her hair, dragging at her, pulling her toward the marshy shore of the lakes. As they touched her she imagined her skin puckering, shrinking and dying. She fought them off hysterically, shoving and kicking. Her breath gushed in as she sobbed, mumbling words that had no meaning. Pushing at the phantasms, turning away from their shriveled, grey faces, from the weed and snails that bedecked their hair and clothes. Always keeping the light in sight.

For what seemed hours, Ana had described circles and squares and always that fateful light had kept her far from camp and fire. The wretched Teine Sidhe, cruel will o’ the wisps, had dragged her to the point of exhaustion where her legs gave way and she crashed to knees on which she began to crawl. The phantasms pushed her forward, all of them contained by circle upon circle of the dancing yellow light of the Teine Sidhe. The water surrounding Ana had thickened like black curd. Her legs bogged down in the mire and her hands found little purchase. But with the effort of the truly doomed, that final heroic push which mortals make when faced with disaster, she heaved her exhausted body up and took a last desperate step.

Her feet hit bottomless murk squelching up all around her. She fell, buried to her knees in the sucking quagmire. The swamp began to exert pressure on her body, squeezing, strangling, and she floundered little as inch by weakened inch she sank. In the distance a lone rooster crowed in some cosy yard at Star. Above, in a sky that changed from ink black to deep navy, a dark shape flew over the doomed mortal. Looking down, the black swan shook its elegant head and flew on.