Winter Door (13 page)

“I can’t explain here,” Nomadiel repeated.

“Look, we don’t have the time for this,” Rage said crossly. “If you could just take us to where the council meets…”

“If you go to the council, you will never get to the castle, and I think that is where you wish to go.”

“Are you saying the council would stop us?” Rage asked in disbelief.

“No one would mean any harm, but they would delay you,” Nomadiel said. “You see, Hermani is in charge, and being so old, he is cautious. He would want to send a messenger to the castle, and it would take days before he and the other councillors would be able to agree on the right messenger. There would be endless meetings and discussions, and you would have to tell your tale ten times. It would be better if Fork were itself, but it is grieving and that makes everyone nervous. Do you see?”

Rage saw, but there was still one question she wanted answered. “Is
the certain person
here in Fork?”

“No, of course she is not,” Nomadiel said. “That is what hurts Fork so. She left to go to the wizard’s castle days ago to meet you! The city is suffering horribly because of her absence, and that weakens its strength so much that the winter gains a foothold here at last.”

Rage was confused. If Elle was not in the city, then why had they come here? She might have asked but for the soft probing at the edge of her mind, which she now identified as the mind of the sentient city.

“You must not!” Nomadiel cried, and pinched Rage hard enough to bring tears.

Rage glared at her. “What did you do that for?”

“You were thinking about her, weren’t you? I can feel the city wondering about you and soon it will know more. If you do not care about the city, then have a care for yourself. If Fork wishes, it will simply make it impossible for you to leave, as it did
a certain person.
”

“Fork would stop me from leaving?” Rage murmured. She remembered all too well how the city had shepherded her toward the dreadful dark conservatorium.

“It would if it thought that keeping you might bring…
a certain person
back.” She glared at Rage. “Now let us go before your carelessness prevents us leaving.”

Rage made her mind a careful blank as she followed Nomadiel. In a surprisingly short time, the River of No Return lay ahead of them. Like the last time, a thick mist lay over it, and Rage had a moment of déjà vu. It was not until they were at the ferry port that Rage could see that there was no longer a gateway to the landing. She was relieved to note that the ferry tied on their side of the river was unchanged in the lantern light. There was still a simple cabin in the middle of its square, flat deck, an enormous wheel on either side, and an enormous cable that pulled the ferry to the other bank.

“It will leave soon,” Nomadiel said. “We should board at once, but it is better to wait until we are well away from the bank before we speak freely.”

Rage nodded and let Nomadiel speak to the river-man at the gangway.

“Two humans,” Nomadiel said firmly. She took two greenish metal lozenges from a pouch at her waist and laid them in the man’s palm. He pocketed them, barely looking at her or her two companions, and they went aboard without further ado.

Rage made her way to the front part of the ferry, noting that it was distinctly colder on deck. She was cold even through Billy’s bomber jacket. Most of the other passengers wore thick coats, except for a few sprites in glittering draperies that barely covered their long, pale limbs. No wonder the people in the tavern had thought she and Billy were wild things, given their scanty attire. It was well known that wild things did not feel the cold.

Nomadiel stood beside Billy, her little face preoccupied. Now that Rage knew who she was, she could see Mr. Walker in her, even though she had Kelpie’s silky golden hair and pretty features. Nomadiel seemed to have her father’s snappish, irritable temperament, too, although that was probably the result of her being brought up by her father. Rage felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of seeing him again, and Goaty, too. Though she must remember to call him Gilbert now. And Elle! How wonderful to see the lovely dog-woman that Elle had become in Valley. She wondered if they would have changed much. Three years was a long time, and they had been part human for all of that time.

The deck lurched as the tether ropes were cast off. They were now moving smoothly away from the city. Rage went to the edge and watched it grow less and less distinct as the mist coiled between the ferry and the bank. The last time Rage had seen it from the ferry, Fork had been dark with malice. Now it was as pale and melancholy as a ghost city. At length, it dissolved into whiteness, and Rage turned to find Nomadiel watching her with a curious expression.

“Rally and I will lead you to the castle,” she said firmly.

“You said Elle went there?” Rage asked.

The child nodded.

Rage looked at Billy. “I just don’t understand how we could have come to Fork if Elle isn’t there. I was thinking about her, so we should have been drawn to her.”

“Perhaps you were drawn to Fork’s dreams of the Lady Elle,” Rally offered in a startling deep voice.

“Fork dreams a dream of the Lady Elle which is more bright and pure than the reality of her,” Nomadiel agreed. “And it is not just the city that dreams of her. All who dwell here share its dreams, just as Fork shares and absorbs their dreams. Indeed, Ania says that those who live here reflect the city as much as Fork reflects them.”

“Ania,” Rage murmured, remembering the young witch spy who had risked so much to help her when the ruthless High Keeper ruled Fork.

Nomadiel took this as a question. “
She
might have persuaded Hermani to let you go quickly, and even to give you aid, but she is not in Fork, either.”

“She is not a councillor?”

Nomadiel shook her head. “She is the trusted personal journeywoman for the witch Mother and carries much of her authority.”

“The witch Mother?” Rage asked.

“She will be at the castle. Unless she has returned to Wildwood. They have need of her there, and it was thought that you would come two seven-days past.”

Rage was aghast. They had been expecting her for two weeks! That meant more than a fortnight must have gone by since she had been in Fork, though less than a day of her own time had passed.

“At least it won’t take long to reach the castle,” Billy was saying. “It took us two days to get from the hill where we came out of the bramble gate to the ferry last time we were here, and it didn’t look that far to the castle.”

“It is said that travel was once much swifter in Valley,” Nomadiel said. “These days it takes a seven-day to reach the castle on foot,
if
there are no storms and
if
all goes smoothly in Deepwood.”

Rage realized that Nomadiel had little or no memory of Valley before the winter door had opened. Maybe
that
was why she was such a sullen little thing. Anyone might be the same if they had only ever known winter and grayness.

Billy expressed dismay at the length of time it would take, but Nomadiel laid a tiny hand on his arm to silence him. “I said it would take that long if we made the journey afoot. However, once we leave the ferry, I will send Rally to some friends of mine who dwell nearby. They will carry us as far as the entrance to Deepwood, once they know who you are.”

“Only to the entrance?” Billy asked before Rage could voice the question.

“We must make our own way afoot through Deepwood to the castle, else it will not allow us to pass.”

“What won’t let us pass?” Rage wondered.

“Deepwood, of course,” Nomadiel said. “It will test us, and only if we prove worthy will we be permitted to pass through it to the castle.”

“Test us! We don’t have time for tests, and what on earth would it test us for anyway?” Rage demanded. Cold was biting into her bare legs and making her feel out of sorts.

“Its nature is to test, just as Fork’s nature is to respond to its inhabitants,” Nomadiel said coolly.

Rage stared at her. “You mean that Deepwood is like Fork?”

“It is sentient,” Nomadiel answered. “But it is no more like Fork than I am like you or him. It has its own nature. The wizard did not desire to have people and creatures coming to him every time they had some small problem, so he gave the forest about the castle sentience and required it to keep away all but the most determined and worthy supplicants.”

“Worthy of what?”

Nomadiel shrugged. “That is something Deepwood decides.”

“What sort of tests?” Billy asked, sounding intrigued, and Rage remembered how much he had loved puzzles and questions when he had been human shaped before.

“The tests are different every time, but I have traveled to the castle many times and I will help you.”

“Is that allowed?” Rage asked rather bitterly.

“Of course,” Nomadiel said, looking surprised. “Is not the choice of companions a sort of test in itself? One must have wisdom to choose clever companions.”

The crow gave a dry croak that recalled them to the present, and they realized that the ferry was about to touch the other bank. Once the gangplank was laid down across the gap, they went ashore with the other passengers. It was true winter here, and Rage began to shiver uncontrollably.

Nomadiel frowned at her in concern. “I will ask Rally to tell my friends that you need proper clothing. I hope they will have some human clothes. I should have thought of it when we were in the city, but I was worried that you would talk about Elle again. I think we had better wait in the hut until they come.”

Nomadiel conferred briefly with the crow, who rubbed its beak gently on her cheek before launching into the icy air and flapping away. There was less mist on this bank but no streetlights, and Rally soon vanished in the darkness. Nomadiel ushered Rage and Billy into a hut. There was no heat, but at least they were out of the chill air. The floor was dry earth rather than snow, and two lanterns offered a golden glow that let them see one another clearly. Now Billy was shivering, too, and Rage stripped off his jacket. They pulled it around their shoulders and sat close together.

“I do think you might have worn better clothing,” Nomadiel said with faint but definite disapproval.

If Rage had not been so very cold, she would have had plenty to say to the haughty little creature, but instead she asked a question nagging at her. “Nomadiel, back there, you said something about Fork not letting Elle leave?”

“Fork did not want to let her go. At first it pleaded and remonstrated, then it simply made it impossible for her to leave. It would not let her come to the ferry port.”

“How did she get away?” Billy asked.

“She jumped into the River of No Return. She must have done it without thinking about it in advance, for Fork would have seen it in her mind and prevented her coming to the shore otherwise. I think few would do such a rash thing, for the river current might have slowed in these days, but it is colder than an ice bath. But she managed to swim to the ferry as it was crossing, and the river folk pulled her aboard.”

“She was all right, though, wasn’t she?” Rage asked worriedly.

“If she had not been, she would not have gone on,” Nomadiel said.

Billy said, “I suppose the city didn’t want Elle to go because it was frightened to face the winter alone.”

Nomadiel gave him a scathing look. “Fork is not cowardly. It was not fear of the winter that made it try to stop the Lady Elle leaving. It cares for her. Everyone knew it because the city sang of it. That is why everyone in Fork dreams of the Lady.”

Rage thought she must have misunderstood, and so she said it again. “The city cared for Elle?”

“Did I not say so?” Nomadiel asked, sounding annoyed. “Elle was its friend. For a time, it was wonderful here, even in spite of the winter door, for the city was happier than it had ever been, but then the Lady Elle said she must go and…well, I have told you.” After a moment, Nomadiel added morosely, “She didn’t mean to hurt it, but since she left, the city has lost heart and we begin to lose it to winter. She should not have left, once she had made the city care for her!”

“Elle is not the sort that can be held down when she wants to go,” Billy said gently.

Rage said nothing, for Nomadiel’s words rang true for her. Hadn’t she herself felt exactly this same sense of betrayal when Mam had fallen into a coma? Or whenever she thought about her uncle leaving? Then another thought occurred to her. She cared very much for Billy, but she had been prepared to leave him when she chose to return to her own world for Mam’s sake. She had wanted to leave him in Valley, but he had wanted to stay with her more.

“You said the city pleaded with Elle,” Billy said, breaking the silence that had fallen. “Do you mean it spoke to her?”

“The city communicates more deeply with some than others. Ania told me that she sometimes hears it, though it has never spoken to her. I have heard it sing,” she added with grave pride. Rage wondered if she ever smiled.

On impulse, Rage decided to put some of the questions she wanted to ask Rue to the child. “Where did the winter door come from in the first place?” she asked.

“No one knows,” Nomadiel said.

“What does the witch Mother think?” Billy asked.

Nomadiel shrugged. “She does not confide her thoughts to me, but my father believes that it was the firecat that made it, even though the wizard said it is impossible. My father says the firecat is a desperate, wicked thing whose hunger for power is great enough for it to have found a way.”

The sound of hoofs came drumming out of the darkness. Moments later, two centaurs galloped up and came to a halt at the door of the hut, plumes of steam rising from their nostrils. Rage, Billy, and Nomadiel went out to meet them. The human part of the older centaur was a matronly woman, while the other was a young, bearded man. Rally sat upon his shoulder.

“Good dark, Rage Winnoway,” said the male centaur in a thrumming voice. Rage recognized him as one of the witch Mother’s attendants.

“Greetings, Centaur,” Rage said.