Navarre peered at them. ‘It will do us all good to feel the fresh air again and see the sunshine.’
‘If the sun is shining.’ The bitterness in Belle’s voice echoed as she threw her long plait back over her shoulder. When she faced him, she was frowning. ‘How much longer must we endure these stifling tunnels? I feel as if I will suffocate from lack of air.’ She gave a loud moan.
Navarre had an irritatingly calm expression on his face. ‘It depends. If you wish to emerge in darkness, we can leave now through one of the trapdoors. But we will have to contend with whatever lurks in the wood. I prefer daylight so I can see the dangers I must deal with. There are just a few hours left of walking before nightfall. I know you are all tired, but we shall sleep under the earth one more night. In the morning, we shall leave the Beginning.’
Belle groaned and turned away in anger. She mumbled something in Elvish.
Dougray faced Navarre. ‘How can you tell night from day down here anyway?’
‘Time has a rhythm and a cycle. Your body senses when it completes a cycle and when a new one begins.’
‘The fullness of Time.’
Surprise showed in Navarre’s eyes as he looked at Robbie. ‘Yes. Things have a fullness of time.’
Robbie shook his head. ‘No, not things, but Time has a fullness.’
‘And then what?’ Belle snapped.
Robbie lowered his eyes. ‘Then comes the end.’
‘How do you know all this?’
He glanced up at her fierce, green eyes. ‘The Morning Star told me that Time is ending...and so is the light.’
Navarre broke the strained silence. ‘Get some sleep, all of you. In the morning, we will head into the wood.’
It was a long time before Robbie’s troubling words faded from Dougray’s mind.
Chapter 8
The Sylph
Next morning, Navarre pushed open one of the trapdoors. Fresh, cold air rushed in, cooling Dougray’s heated face. He sniffed the air. It was full of dampness and rain. He clambered out of the hole using the roots to haul himself up the slippery earth. A low, white mist hung in the air, still and ill-smelling.
Navarre glanced up at the canopy and then pointed ahead. ‘We will travel in this direction.’
The mist moved aside as they trudged through it, Navarre and Belle both taking the lead. Dougray noticed how Belle would lean against a tree from time to time and whisper under her breath. Navarre would wait until she was ready to move on and seemed to prefer to travel alongside her.
Overhead, a mix of strange and familiar sounds assailed Dougray’s ears. Birds screeched and called with high, shrill notes or low, thudding ones like someone banging a tree trunk with a rock. Some bird sounds he recognised, others were perplexing and frightening. By late afternoon, sweat soaked his shirt and coated his face. The muscles of both legs and hips ached, and his limp had worsened. His left calf knotted stiffly and his body screamed for rest.
Navarre halted. ‘We will head up into the treetops and camp there for the night.’
Dougray frowned. ‘What about the shrieks...and Morgran’s soldiers?’
Belle shook her head. ‘The shrieks have left this part of the wood. The trees do not speak of them anymore. Soldiers still prowl the tree paths, but we shall still be safer up there than down here.’
Navarre gave a quick nod. ‘There is a basket not far from here and a large nest where we can sleep...if it is still intact that is. Come.’
In a hollow they passed, a prickly bush yielded three long root vegetables, which Navarre dug up with his knife. He brushed off the dirt and packed them in Dougray’s bag.
‘This will supplement the food on your journey. Try to locate as many as you can. Belle will help you locate them. They are rather tasteless, but they are better than starving.’
He sheathed his knife and they moved on. One of the woven baskets came into sight through the trees. Belle handed Dougray her bag.
‘I will climb up and locate the winch.’
Dougray touched her arm. ‘Be careful.’
She gave him a warm smile, then turned and grasped the sturdy limb of the nearest tree and began to haul herself up. Dougray stared in awe at her swift, agile movements as she disappeared up the tree. Navarre opened the basket’s door and motioned them inside. Purring throbbed the air as Tassie trotted in first and sat down. After long minutes, the murderous screech of the disused winch echoed overhead and the basket lifted off the ground in jerky movements. A flock of startled, squawking birds took flight.
Dougray grasped the sides with both hands as the basket swayed. It was a slow, tortuous ascent, swinging above the forest floor, at the mercy of anything crouched in the shadowy treetops. Navarre, too, appeared extra watchful, his hand clutching the hilt of his knife. Once the basket was level with the platform, Belle hurried forward and slid the plank underneath.
Tassie leaped out first, her deep, throaty purr the only indication of her presence. Her fur melded with the dark green backdrop of afternoon shadows.
Dougray looked around. Ruin was everywhere. Broken branches lay strewn about the tree path and dry piles of faeces attracted Tassie. Navarre muttered something dark under his breath.
‘Shrieks have been here, but not recently.’
They followed him along the deserted tree path, not venturing far. Signs of shrieks were evident in the ruins they passed. Nests, all torn apart, had the stench of death wafting in the air.
Navarre halted on a leafy platform that was not as rank. ‘We shall camp here for the night, but keep your voices low if you need to speak. We do not want to attract any unnecessary attention.’
Dougray looked at him. ‘Do you think Morgran’s soldiers will venture this far?’
The Healer nodded. ‘They may. But soldiers and shrieks are only two of many foes. Remember, Morgran is a powerful sorcerer. He has the ability to open the Abyss and release terrifying monsters into our world. Who knows what will come next.’ His dark eyes glittered. ‘So, we shall speak little tonight and perhaps we shall remain undetected.’
Belle’s bag landed with a soft thud at her feet. ‘A good plan. I, for one, wish only to sleep.’
Dougray looked at Robbie, who had spoken little since leaving, as if he’d shut and locked the doors to all and thrown away the key. His brother lifted his weary gaze and met his, just for a moment before he looked away.
What are you thinking? Share your thoughts.
They ate a cold meal that night beneath a sickle moon and then settled down to sleep, shielded by branches. Navarre rose to his feet.
‘I shall keep the first watch with Tassie. She will sense any presence long before it reveals itself.’
Dougray drew his cloak about himself and faced the dark, enigmatic figure of the Healer. He stood on the tree path like a pillar of stone. Another dark image came to Dougray’s mind, of the first guardian they had encountered at Gardenia, silhouetted against the wild, black jungles. Yes, that’s who Navarre reminded him of.
One moment he was staring at him, the next it was daylight and Navarre was shaking him. Stiff and sore, Dougray sat up and squinted at the unexpected sunlight streaming through the branches of the canopy. The day was clear of storms, the air crisp and cool for travelling. A hasty breakfast and then back down into the wood via the basket and on with their journey.
By mid-morning, breaks between thinning trees revealed a wide, gaping chasm. Beyond it, rocky grasslands stretched into the hazy distance.
Dougray frowned at Navarre. ‘When were you going to tell us about this? How do we cross it?’
The Healer gave him a sly grin. ‘Did I fail to mention it? Once you pay your stoles, the Sylph Queen will show you the way across. Stay here while I scout around. It is a good place for an ambush.’
He moved away through the trees with Tassie by his side. Dougray glared at him until he disappeared. Belle adjusted her bow on her back and stood beside him.
‘He keeps secrets, that one. He tells only
what you need to hear and not what you need to know.’
She was right, of course. Navarre was a keeper of secrets, a player of games, and a dabbler of magic. He had sensed that the day they had met him. There was a good side to Navarre and a calculating side where he used his influence as a Healer and magician to manipulate circumstances to his own advantage.
A sharp intake of breath came from Belle and her hand grasped Dougray’s arm, interrupting his thoughts. Then a sudden movement caught his eye as she pointed through the trees.
‘I see it too!’ Robbie said.
A profusion of orange-winged butterflies appeared between the trees and the chasm, soundless and beautiful as they fluttered about the sky. There were so many they couldn’t see anything else. Where did they all come from? Why were they there? Then Belle was moving forward and he and Robbie instinctively followed. They halted at the edge of the wood and stared at the butterflies for several minutes. They lifted into the sky, revealing a snowy cloud shimmering in the sunlight. Belle stepped forward but Dougray grasped her arm.
‘We should wait for Navarre.’
She nodded. ‘You are right.’
As his eyes drifted back to the cloud, the translucent outlines of a slender woman became visible, an ethereal being floating in the air. He froze at the extraordinary sight. Seeing her was so unexpected; it made Dougray’s breath catch in his throat.
The Sylph Queen; guardian of the subverted kingdom beyond the gulf.
She stared straight at him with eyes of topaz-blue as she hovered above the ground in a gleaming gown of white silk. Long, white hair floated around her face like mist and on top of her head sat a crown of glittering spikes of pale crystal. Behind her yawned the vast gulf that skirted Wyrm Wood as far as the eye could see, an unfathomable fissure with no way across except by her permission.
It was then that Dougray noticed her right ankle was tethered to something black—an iron cuff bound to a length of thin, black chain that disappeared into the earth.
Morgran’s curse!
Dougray jumped as Navarre materialised beside him. ‘What do you think you are doing? I told you to remain where you were till I returned.’
Belle frowned. ‘There is no need to get angry. We were waiting for you when we saw the butterflies—’
‘Do you not understand?’ he cut in. ‘It is dangerous being out in the open. I did not see any soldiers, but it does not mean they are not around, patrolling the wood.’ Sighing, he looked at Dougray and Robbie. ‘Who has the stoles?’
Robbie stepped forward. ‘I do.’
‘Give them to the Sylph Queen. She is waiting for you.’
Apprehension glimmered in Robbie’s eyes as he looked at the guardian. He took a deep breath and began to walk towards her. Her icy, intense stare held him, held them all. Without taking his eyes off her, Robbie reached into his pocket and pulled out the pouch of stoles. The Sylph Queen’s eyes widened as with intense longing at the sight of them in his palm. At once, she cupped her hands before her in eager anticipation, stretching them towards him with yearning eyes. Robbie dropped them into her hands and stepped back. Three blinding sparks of light flashed and then she closed her slender, white fingers over them. She drew them to her mouth, whispering something unintelligible, something that made Robbie stiffen.
Chapter 9
Bridge of Butterflies
As Robbie stumbled back from the Sylph Queen, the butterflies descended upon the chasm in a single unity of fluttering wings. Multitudes and multitudes of orange-winged butterflies seemed to appear from the air itself, if that were possible. It was clear to Robbie that, like the spiders in Gardenia, these too, were no ordinary creatures! The prophecy the guardian had spoken burned inside him as he stared at them in wonder and awe. He struggled with its encrypted meaning.
The rustling sound of their wings ceased as they began to meld together from wingtip to wingtip until they had formed a great arching wall—no!—a colossal bridge that spanned the entire gulf all the way to the other side. Robbie’s jaw dropped at the incredible sight as it shimmered like warm gold, as if the wings somehow still could flutter within the structure. Impossible! Rubbing his eyes, he peered down at the tiny-bodied insects which had solidified to create the astonishing bridge and shook his head. All in a matter of a few minutes. How can that happen?
Aware that he had his mouth open, he closed it and looked at Belle as she hastened forward, halting at the bridge. She crouched to examine it, poking it with her finger. A frown creased her brow as she placed her palm on its smooth surface.
‘It is as hard as stone! How is it possible?’
Hesitant, she placed her foot on it and then all her weight. ‘It seems the Sylph Queen is allowing us to cross on her bridge of butterflies.’
Navarre threw a cautious glance towards the trees, then turned back to Robbie, Dougray and Belle. ‘From here on, you travel alone.’ He cleared leaves and stones away with his boot. Then he crouched, and picking up a nearby stick, began to draw on the bare earth. ‘This will be the route you must take. We are here and Twendlemark is there, two days’ journey northeast.’ He indicated towards the grassland with the stick. ‘See that mountain range on the horizon?’
Robbie gazed across the chasm. Far away, a chain of mountains jutted up from the land with serrated peaks. One or two rose higher than the others and were tipped with white snow.
‘Can you see the lopsided peak?’ Navarre asked. ‘That will be your landmark. Keep it in front of your eyes; Twendlemark lies at its feet. If you keep to this course, you should arrive before dusk tomorrow. Do not travel on the roads; they will be watched by spies and patrolled by Morgran’s soldiers.
‘Remember, Twendlemark is a market town, so there will be many characters there from the plains selling their wares and produce. I have heard that soldiers are now deployed there, too, so be careful. Do not mention to anyone that you possess stoles—not ever! That will earn you a slit throat in some back alley. People are more desperate now than ever before and stoles are worth a fortune.
‘Once you arrive, look for a man named Kreon Meadows. He owns an inn called The Weary Horse—well, he did two years ago. He is sympathetic to the Resistance...and he is a friend of mine. He may be able to help you get some good horses. Others may try and cheat you.’
He glanced about at his circle of listeners. ‘Once you get your horses, cut up through here and head northwest. Morgran knows you are about and word of your journey is abroad; do not draw unnecessary attention to yourselves. Cover your heads with your hoods as often as you can. They may keep you hidden a little longer. Pretend you are travellers. Remember, even Brefale knew of your arrival in Wyrm Wood.’
A sudden smile spread across his face as he paused. ‘We may meet again, my friends, in less perilous times. Now you must trust in the Morning Star with all your hearts. Do not incline to your own understanding when things appear grim; give recognition to him and he will make smooth, straight paths for your feet. Farewell.’
As he grasped Dougray’s arm in friendship, there was a loud growl from Tassie. Navarre looked at her. His arm dropped to his sword hilt.
‘What is it, girl? What do you sense?’
Robbie shot a hurried glance towards the trees. He sensed something approaching, something dark...and dangerous. Tassie’s growl continued and her ears flattened as she stared at the trees.
Navarre faced Robbie. ‘I suggest—’
A sudden whining interrupted him. With a sharp cry, he whirled around and flung his arm up into the air. A dozen arrows flew wide of where they stood and landed on the ground either side of them. Then a company of soldiers appeared, running in their direction along the edge of the abyss. More bolts flew at them but Navarre raised his arm. An invisible shield sent the arrows once more short of their mark. He turned with a fierce look.
‘What are you waiting for? Get across the bridge! I will keep them busy! Hurry!’
Belle shoved Dougray in the back. ‘Run! Do not stand there
gaping!’
Robbie needed no encouragement and raced after them onto the bridge of butterflies. He was surprised at how solid it felt beneath his pounding feet, as solid as an earthen road. Behind him echoed the sudden clash of steel. Blade rang upon blade as Navarre engaged with the soldiers. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder and glimpsed three soldiers pursuing them on the bridge. One of them, garbed in the familiar black of a lead tracker, was out in front.
With a strangled cry, Robbie turned and willed his tired legs on. He had to reach the far side of the gulf before a bolt or knife found his back! He strained with all his might to outrun the man in black, and then—his feet landed on the hard, rocky ground on the far side of the bridge! As his feet touched solid ground, loud screams came from behind and a great flutter of orange wings took flight all around him. Thousands and thousands of butterflies. He spun around, gasping for breath. The bridge was no longer there! Nor were the soldiers who had been on it. They had tumbled to their doom, not having paid the obligatory stoles to the Sylph Queen, guardian of the land. The consequence of trespassing had been paid in full...with their lives.
Tisser’s fearful face flashed through Robbie’s mind and the terrible ride down the River Brix. He was beginning to understand the great power the guardians exerted, despite being cursed.
On the far side of the gulf, the ring of clashing steel rang in the crisp air. The butterflies began to disperse, unable to shield the sylph from all the action taking place so close to her. Robbie stared as the Healer deflected blow after blow in a fountain of snowy sparks. Many slain lay on the ground, but more were joining their comrades from the nearby trees. Some of the soldiers struck at something invisible, which had to be Tassie.
Robbie held his breath, wanting Navarre to overcome, to use his magic against them, to disappear—anything! Blood from a wound flared on the Healer’s left shoulder. He was beginning to weaken, to tire. Horror-stricken, Robbie dared not look away. Dougray and Belle came and stood beside him, watching the terrible battle in silence. But how much longer could Navarre hold them off?
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