by Glen L. Hall
Looking back, he could see he had played his part to perfection, going from Oxford to Gosforth and then using the Way-curve in the bookshop. After that the crow-men had attacked and later that night the Grim-were had come for her. It all made sense. In the orchard the Grim-were had almost taken her, and the Shadow hadn’t been far behind… He shuddered.
What could he say? How could he tell Emily she was in mortal danger? She was still watching him for any signs that what she was saying would click. He couldn’t tell her, not yet, but he could give her a hint.
‘What if they are wrong?’ he said, standing and moving towards the window to avoid her burning gaze. ‘What if the bloodline doesn’t run through me? What if they have bet on the wrong horse?’
He leaned his head on the glass once more. Outside, the road leading down to the beach was busy with people coming and going. Further south, that thin black border was all that could be seen of Birling Wood.
‘Sam! How can you doubt it? A lot of people have gone to a lot of trouble for you,’ Emily retorted. ‘Remember what the letter said – there’s a chance Brennus and Drust may not come back.’
Sam kept his face turned towards the window.
‘You said that letter could have been written by anyone. Including the traitor. You said we couldn’t rely on anything in it.’
‘Well, okay.’ Emily drew breath. ‘But after last night I think anything’s possible. I watched you command light with a language that sounded more like thunder than words. I felt its heat. I saw you save Oscar.’
‘No, Emily!’ Sam turned back to her. This was too much. ‘I didn’t—’
She cut him off with a wave of her hand.
‘You held back the night! The Shadow! You stopped it! Oscar would have been swept from the bridge if not for you. Don’t you remember? When he fell, you stood over him. You faced the Shadow and it didn’t touch you.’
‘I stopped the Shadow?’ Sam couldn’t believe it. ‘No, Emily, you’ve got it wrong. I can’t remember leaving your side. I was terrified.’
Standing there, totally bewildered, he looked so lost that Emily’s exasperation melted into sympathy. With an awkward half-smile, she stood up and put her arms round him.
‘Believe me,’ she whispered, ‘you saved him. The Shadow burned him, didn’t it, but left you untouched.’
She pulled back enough to look up at him and give him a smile.
Sam shook his head. ‘I just remember seeing Oscar standing on the bridge and then Culluhin joining him. I don’t remember going to his aid. I was struck rigid with fear – unable to move.’
‘You did move – you put out your hand and shielded Oscar until he regained his feet. Without you, I hate to think what would have happened. I know you’re scared, but I don’t think you’re defenceless – not at all. You threw down the Grim-were at the orchard, didn’t you?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I don’t know anything,’ Sam said wearily.
With the afternoon sun at his back and Emily’s body against his, he closed his eyes and tried to block the memory of Oscar’s burning arms raised against the swirling darkness. He really just wanted to go home. And then back to his studies in Oxford. And then have Emily visit him.
But Emily stepped back once more and fixed her dark eyes on his.
‘I don’t know what’s happening either,’ she said, ‘but I think you have to accept you are key to stopping it.’
* * * * * *
When they found Eagan and Alice, they were in the orangery with its staggering views across the estuary. Eagan was dressed in an old woollen jumper and a pair of corduroy trousers, and his long dark hair was still damp. He was gazing out of the window whilst Alice was sitting knitting, her walking stick resting against a small table. When she saw Sam and Emily, she put her knitting down and gave them a warm smile.
‘You look much better – clean and fresh! I’ll find you a change of clothes later. But come along now, sit yourselves down at the table and have something to eat.’
No sooner had they sat down than Eagan began placing quiche, potatoes and a selection of salads in front of them. Sam could feel his mouth begin to water. Even though they had already eaten a good breakfast, he was starving. Emily must have felt the same. She was already shovelling food onto her plate and straight into her mouth. When Eagan had poured the tea, they ate almost in silence. The only sounds were the excited voices of children passing by outside on their way to the beach.
Alice sipped her tea and smiled at Sam with a warmth that was both reassuring and uplifting. Sam felt he needed her welcoming presence. Emily’s revelation upstairs had complicated things. How could he begin to explain to her that the Shadow and the Grim-were had been coming for her, when she was convinced not only that they were after him, but that he had special powers? He sighed and helped himself to another piece of quiche.
When they had finished their lunch and had washed the dishes and drunk the last of their tea, it was Alice who broke the silence.
‘I have to tell you, Sam, that you do remind me of your father. He had blue eyes and red hair too.’
‘I didn’t know him,’ stumbled Sam.
‘No, I know. But he would have been very pleased to see you here.’
‘Why?’
Alice shifted a little in her chair. ‘Alnmouth was one of his favourite places.’
‘Really?’
‘Oscar’s too, of course.’
‘Oscar?’ Emily broke in. ‘Can you tell us if he’s really dead?’
‘I am afraid he is,’ smiled Alice. ‘He died fifteen years ago. I am his widow.’
Emily found herself blushing. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled.
Eagan glared at her, but Alice hadn’t taken offence. ‘Oscar was a kind and generous man,’ she explained, ‘and a cultured one too. He was part of a group which journeyed the length and breadth of the borderland, from the Solway Firth in the west to Bamburgh in the east. He was part of a literary circle that had its roots in Edinburgh, Newcastle and Oxford. They would meet at the Eagle and Child in Oxford, the Seven Stories in Newcastle and the Green Dragon in Edinburgh’s New Town.’
‘I met some of them in Oxford last week,’ interrupted Sam. ‘It was really strange…’
Alice showed no surprise at this. ‘I heard you in the Way-curve,’ she said calmly.
Eagan put down his cup with a thud. ‘What? You used the Way-curve to speak to the past? Brennus is the only one who can do that now!’
Sam, too, was staggered by the old lady’s words, but for a different reason. ‘They all link up? You can listen in?’
Alice smiled. ‘What do you think?’ Then she looked down. ‘Yes, we can listen in, though, as Eagan says, only Brennus can actually make the connection to the past now.’
‘I don’t mean to be rude,’ said Sam, ‘but that can’t be right, because I made a connection with Oscar at the Seven Stories.’
‘Really?’ Eagan was looking at him curiously.
For a moment Alice was too, but she just smiled and said, ‘Oscar – ah yes. Well, of course he used the Way-curves as well.’
‘I don’t understand how it works at all,’ Sam confessed. ‘But I met Oscar in person, you know – earlier on, in Oxford. He gave me two letters that this literary circle had given him. One was for me and one was for Professor Stuckley – Brennus, I mean.’
His words hung in the air like the rays of sunlight from the windows. Alice edged forwards on her chair and reached for her stick.
‘Can I see your letter? I remember Oscar telling me that Ronald and Jack had written two letters and told him not to touch them. All these years, never knowing what was in those letters – I’ve often thought of their significance. Oscar never broke his silence, and here we are now – these are strange days indeed. I would love to see your letter.’
‘It keeps changing. I can’t say wh
at’s in it now.’ Sam reached into his back pocket and withdrew what was now a brittle, yellowed and battered envelope. He placed it on the table.
‘I remember that very letter being on the mantelpiece for years, gathering dust,’ said Alice, looking at it with interest. ‘It disappeared, along with the other letter, when we lost Oscar. So, Sam, tell me how you came by it – how you met him.’
Sam took a deep breath. Though it had only been a week since Oscar had delivered his message, a lot had happened in a short space of time. He began at the beginning, telling Alice about Oscar turning up in the middle of the Fellows’ Garden at Oxford and delivering a message that Sam couldn’t make head or tail of. He explained that he’d then somehow managed to become lost in a garden he knew like the back of his hand, only to come back to where he’d started from and find a crumbling stone circle of terrifying statues.
As he was speaking, Alice rested her chin on her walking stick. Her face remained warm and she wore an encouraging smile.
Sam spoke about the Shadow, and even with the warm light flooding the room, he felt its chill. He explained how the professors, who were apparently Brennus and Drust, had saved him and accompanied him to the Eagle and Child, where he had met Jack, Ronald and Charles, and how he had read their letter outlining their trip to Oscar in Alnmouth and how the letter had become his counsel.
Alice sat smiling as he related how he’d seen both Oscar and the Shadow in the tapestry in the Seven Stories and moved quickly through the appearance of the crow-men and his and Emily’s decision to leave Brennus, Drust and Jarl travelling to the Dead Water whilst they went on to Warkworth.
‘And there is no news about Brennus, Drust or Jarl?’ interrupted Alice, the first signs of worry showing on her face.
‘I saw them in a dream,’ answered Eagan. Then he paused.
Alice looked at him enquiringly. ‘Eagan?’
He hesitated. ‘They were at the Dead Water.’
Alice went pale and bowed her head. ‘How were they?’
‘It was just a dream,’ Eagan said.
‘Eagan!’
There was a pause.
‘I don’t know,’ Eagan whispered.
Sam and Emily looked at each other. ‘Do you know them?’ asked Sam.
Alice raised her head. ‘They are my sons, dear child. And this is grave news indeed.’
The Red Lion
‘I just don’t understand why they would have gone there.’
Alice looked round the table. Everyone appeared uncomfortable. Eagan got up and stood with his back to the window, frowning.
‘They went to seek counsel,’ Emily said quietly.
‘From the Dagda? But his daughters are now hostile to mortal men.’ It was Alice who now looked surprised.
‘They were looking to understand the nature of the Shadow that hunts Sam,’ Emily continued. ‘They were giving him time to escape Gosforth and reach Oscar.’
‘And they were both at the Dead Water, Eagan?’
Eagan nodded.
Alice bent her head once more. ‘That is no place for the living. Few who venture there ever return. Let us hope the Faeries are kind to them.’
‘What do you know about the Faeries?’ asked Emily curiously.
Alice drew a long breath. ‘Most people in these parts would have you believe they are nothing more than fireside stories told to children in the dark nights of winter,’ she said, seeming to pull herself together as she spoke. ‘But they are real enough. Some years ago, I travelled with Oscar and the Keepers to the final stronghold of the Druids – Holy Island. The island is protected by a tidal causeway and druidic magic. We reached it having skirted Bamburgh and arrived on the seventh day. Amongst those gathered there were those who would become Oscar’s fellowship. We travelled to a garden on the far side of the island, where summer turned to winter, and at last we came to a river.’
Her face softened.
‘Though it was many years ago, I dream of it still – it remains as fresh as if I had returned only yesterday. Beside the river we met an old man. Whilst he sat there, one by one they came. One rose from the lake, dressed only in its shimmering waters. Her hair was blood red, her face ageless. When she spoke, her voice broke across those gathered like a waterfall. At times there were those amongst our company who could barely listen. We were all mesmerised.’ She smiled. ‘A second came riding in on horseback, her mount dressed in moonlight… She had golden hair and a beauty that still takes my breath away. There was a light dancing from her horse’s mane the like of which I had never encountered before and never have since. She seemed to be made of the setting sun. These were two of the old man’s daughters.’
All eyes were fixed on the old lady remembering the past. The letter lay forgotten on the table.
‘Was that the only time you saw the Faeries?’ asked Emily.
‘No, my dear. But it wasn’t long after that meeting that things began to change. I’m sorry to say it, but I can see things are beginning to move again now. I fear for you all.’ She paused. ‘And for my sons.’
‘What are we to do?’ It was Emily who had spoken again.
‘My father will know to come here,’ Eagan said, ‘so we should wait for news. I don’t think there is anything else we can do. I don’t think we can go back, nor can we go blindly forwards. We should stay together and seek strength in numbers.’
‘I think that is a sensible idea, Eagan.’ Alice sat back in her chair, placed her walking stick across her lap and looked at them in turn.
Sam smiled at her. He liked the idea of staying where they were. He liked the idea of going home even better, but how was he to do that?
‘Why not pour everyone another cup of tea, Eagan?’ Alice asked.
Biscuits were passed around, whilst outside Alnmouth was beginning to settle down, with small sailing boats returning to the estuary. And always just on the periphery was Birling Wood.
‘So, Sam, tell me more of your story,’ said Alice. ‘You say you met Oscar in person in Oxford?’
‘To be honest, I don’t think I did actually meet him in Oxford,’ Sam explained, ‘or at least the Oxford we know. I think I met him in the Otherland. Brennus says it’s the in-between places.’
‘The Otherland…’ said Alice reflectively. ‘The Otherland is a strange one. Yes, Brennus is right – it can be seen as the in-between places, but it is everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. I remember Oscar telling me it was the borderland between a number of different worlds. If the Fall begins to weaken, creatures from the Otherland will be able to come into the Mid-land. Without the Fall, the Ruin itself will be able to cross between the worlds.’
‘Other beings are able to enter our world now,’ Eagan said. ‘I saw—’
Sam interrupted him. ‘Is the Otherland where the crow-men come from? I thought they were from the Underland.’ He was keen to find out whether there had been any truth in the Grim-were’s words.
‘Yes, it is said they are from the Underland,’ Alice said. ‘Many creatures were once asleep there, but they are awake now and on the move, and that frightens me greatly.’
‘So what happened?’ said Emily, but Alice was shaking her head.
‘I know I don’t have the whole story. But according to Oscar, a war has been raging down the centuries. Two thousand years ago the Druids managed to break the connection between the lands by setting up the Fall, but their magic was not perfect and that is why the Fall is vulnerable to the passage of time. Some say the Fall was once the Dagda’s daughter Brigit, but others say Brigit was trapped in the Darkhart and her power was twisted by the darkness.’
Sam shivered. ‘And where did the Druids come from?’ he asked, trying to change the subject.
‘That’s a good question, Sam, but I don’t know the answer to that either. According to Oscar, no one knows where the original Druids came from. S
ome say they all perished when they created the Fall. But clearly they didn’t all perish. Their bloodline continued. The Ruin’s servants have been pursuing that bloodline for what seems an eternity.’
‘Was Oscar a Druid?’ To Sam it was the obvious question.
Alice looked at him and a smile broke across her face.
‘Whether he was at the beginning, I couldn’t say. By the time he returned from his journey, there was no longer any doubt that he could command the flow. For a while I didn’t recognise him – it was only when he started writing that he was like his old self again.’
She sighed, then pushed herself back in her chair and stretched out her arms.
‘Look, you’ve had a tiring few days. Why don’t you two get some fresh air? Then later Eagan could take you to the Red Lion for tea.’
‘Yes, let’s do that,’ said Sam, smiling at Emily.
‘But stay this side of the river,’ Eagan added.
‘Why?’ asked Emily at once.
‘We’re not that far from Birling Wood,’ Eagan reminded her.
Emily was silent, suddenly remembering the battle.
‘I think Eagan is right,’ said Alice. ‘A walk north of the river and then tea at the Red Lion is the safest bet.’
* * * * * *
Sam helped Emily clear the plates and cups from the table and stuffed the letter back in his pocket as he did so. They left Alice and Eagan enjoying each other’s company and headed down the long hallway to the front door.
Outside, with the sun hidden behind a number of clouds, the temperature had dropped. It was early September and most holiday-makers had gone back to their lives in the cities.
Sam and Emily decided to follow the estuary down to a small beach. Coming through a break in a wall that opened directly onto the beach, they found a man fixing an upturned rowing boat with a black Labrador sitting by his side. Behind him, small boats were anchored, bobbing up and down haphazardly on the afternoon tide.
