by James Nicol
Arianwyn thought she might burst with excitement. She was so pleased for Salle.
The mayor signalled for calm, and after another minute of noise, the market square fell silent again.
‘And now, Salle, as Winterthorn Queen, you have the great pleasure of choosing your Yule Lord from all of our fine young men in Lull.’ The mayor gestured to the crowd.
There were several long seconds of quiet.
Arianwyn wondered who Salle would pick. Perhaps Jonas Attinger? He had asked her to a dance a few months ago, Arianwyn recalled.
She watched as Salle whispered into the mayor’s ear.
The mayor’s eyebrows arched a little in surprise as he declared, ‘And Salle’s Yule Lord will be . . . Colin Twine!’
There was another bright chorus of cheering and rounds of applause. Colin was suddenly there and clambering up on to the back of the cart and standing beside Salle, completely red-faced, as she placed another, smaller crown on his head. Then they turned and faced the crowd again. The band started playing its bright tune and everyone cheered once more.
Arianwyn smiled as she watched her two friends taking a bow. Then she saw their hands linked together and it made her feel strange – rather like she had when she had found out that Colin had been to see Salle’s play twice. She suddenly didn’t want to be in the town square. She turned to leave.
‘Where are you going?’ her father asked, reaching out to catch her by the elbow.
‘I just remembered I have some errands to run,’ Arianwyn mumbled quietly.
‘But I thought you had to be on hand for this – isn’t it part of your duties?’ He laughed.
She felt a flash of annoyance. Was he making fun of her work now? He hadn’t been so quick to recognize her duties before when she’d had work to do – but suddenly, now that it suited him, he was trying to guilt her into staying. ‘Not now, Dad,’ Arianwyn snapped, and slipped away into the crowd.
Arianwyn hurried along Kettle Lane. There were only a few people wandering into the shops along the street and everyone was too busy with their own holiday preparations to notice Arianwyn hurrying off somewhere as usual.
As the Spellorium came into sight she saw Miss Delafield’s motorcar parked out the front. Her supervisor leant against the bonnet, studying her driving gloves. ‘Oh, there you are, dear,’ she said. But the usual brightness in her voice was gone. ‘I went to see you at the Blue Ox and I hadn’t a hope of finding you among the crowds in the marketplace. So I thought I’d wait here.’
Arianwyn unlocked the door and they both went inside. ‘Tea?’ she asked.
Miss Delafield shook her head. ‘I’m afraid I’ve got some news.’ She twisted her hands together. ‘Gimma Alverston has gone missing.’
‘Again?’
‘So it would seem,’ Miss Delafield replied gravely.
Thoughts and worries stormed through Arianwyn’s mind. What had happened? She wondered if she’d done the right thing in leaving Gimma behind in Kingsport, after all.
Chapter 20
The FROST PHOENIX
he next day, everyone gathered outside the town walls to witness the summoning of the frost phoenix.
The bridge that spanned the River Torr by the East Gate was full of people, with more hanging over the town walls and pressed in around the gate. The meadows were now too flooded for anyone to watch from there, even in long wellies. Arianwyn had imagined a Yule full of snow and frost, not rain and wind and flooding. The only frost so far had been due to the ice imps and that really didn’t count! But still, the mood was festive: the air rang with the sounds of bright expectation, greetings and laughter, all rising high up into the grey sky above Lull.
Salle rushed forwards from the crowd, dressed in a long green robe, with her Winterthorn crown in her hands. ‘There you are – what happened to you yesterday? Your dad said you had some errands to run.’ She looked as though she didn’t quite believe this.
Arianwyn nodded. ‘I had the charms to finish and there’s been another outbreak of nitherings.’ This was all true, even if it wasn’t the real reason Arianwyn had left.
‘Well, we missed you,’ Salle said. ‘I missed you.’ She reached out and took Arianwyn’s hand, squeezing tightly. Did she suspect Arianwyn had felt odd about Colin being chosen as Salle’s Yule Lord? ‘Ready?’ Salle asked.
Arianwyn suddenly felt like a fool for being jealous of Salle. She was her friend and she was pleased for her above everything else. ‘I’m nervous!’ she admitted as the two girls made their way along the path.
People called out excitedly as they passed:
‘Good luck, Miss Gribble!’
‘All the best, Arianwyn.’
‘We’re so excited!’
Arianwyn forced herself to smile but her nerves had twisted her guts into absolute knots and she felt sick. She couldn’t remember any of the words to the blasted song. She’d never felt more nervous in her life – she felt utterly ridiculous.
‘It’ll be fine, Wyn,’ Salle said, giving her a quick hug as they reached the centre of the bridge. ‘It’s just a silly song.’
‘That’s right. It’s just a boggin’ song!’ she muttered.
‘Ah, there you are at last!’ Mayor Belcher loomed out of the crowd towards them, almost but not quite shoving aside anyone who stood in his way. ‘I was beginning to worry you’d forgotten about the ceremony.’ Arianwyn raised her eyebrows at Salle, who smiled back, her eyes twinkling, full of their usual mischief.
‘Yule blessings, Mayor Belcher.’ Salle smiled and handed the mayor a small parcel. ‘All the way from Kingsport.’ She winked at Arianwyn and mouthed, ‘Miss Newam!’
The mayor quickly stuffed the parcel into his raincoat pocket, blushing a little, though his cheeks may have been red because of the cold. He turned and gestured to a spot by the wall of the bridge. A small wooden platform had been placed next to the stone wall and was swagged with voluminous purple materials that matched the mayor’s ever-present sash, everything now slightly damp and droopy. Winterthorn and miselberries had been woven around the purple material as well. And on the platform stood a gleaming microphone.
‘Is that really necessary?’ Arianwyn asked, her knot of worry tightening even more.
‘Goodness yes, Miss Gribble, of course. We want everyone to hear your beautiful voices! Besides, it will lend the ceremony a certain . . .’ He waved his hand in the air and smiled. ‘You know! Don’t you think, Miss Bowen?’
‘Oh, absolutely.’ Salle avoided Arianwyn’s burning gaze.
‘Traitor!’ Arianwyn mumbled under her breath as Mayor Belcher led them towards the stand and the microphone.
Miss Prynce, the mayor’s secretary, stood close by, holding a clipboard. She was dressed in a bright yellow rain mac and matching hat. ‘Yule blessings, Arianwyn, Salle.’ She handed the mayor a slip of paper.
‘Oh, snotlings, he’s making a speech as well – again!’ Salle said through gritted teeth.
But then the mayor glanced around and gestured to someone dressed in a long red-and-green tunic, wearing a funny hat with three corners that Arianwyn thought she had once seen in a museum in Kingsport. The unfortunate wearer of this outfit was Constable Perkins, Lull’s police officer. And he looked far from pleased to have been roped into the festivities.
‘Hello,’ he said quietly as he approached the small platform.
He raised his right arm and Arianwyn could see he was carrying a large handbell, rather like the one they had used at her old school at the start and end of the day. Constable Perkins gave the bell three loud rings and the chatter on and around the bridge died away as everyone turned, faces full of expectation, to the platform.
‘O yey, o yey. O yey! I command that the peace of our lord, the King, be well kept by night and day and that all manner of spirit and mischief-maker be welcome this day in Lull, whether they come late or early at the reverence of the Winterthorn Queen and Yule Lord’ – he turned and bowed to Salle and Colin, who had just stepped forwar
d from the crowd, all swathed in hisYule Lord costume – ‘till the feasting days be passed. God save the King!’
‘God save the King!’ everyone cheered loudly.
Mayor Belcher and Constable Perkins swapped places. The mayor coughed gently and then tapped the microphone with a gloved finger.
‘Ahem, good day ladies, gentlemen and children. Citizens of Lull, and dear friends.’
Arianwyn gazed out over the edge of the bridge wall. The riverbank was packed with people where the land rose up slightly and wasn’t flooded, almost like a small island. She could see Grandmother with her dad, and Estar bundled up in several blankets and scarves standing with them. Nearby, Colin and Miss Delafield stood with Uncle Mat and Aunt Grace. They all waved enthusiastically.
The mayor continued his speech. ‘After years without a witch of our own we have been unable to follow our traditions and celebrate Yule properly. But this year I am delighted to say that Miss Gribble – with able assistance from Miss Bowen . . .’
Aunt Grace, Uncle Mat, Colin and Miss Delafield gave a loud echoing whoop.
‘. . . has consented to lead our Yule celebrations in the traditional way by summoning the frost phoenix. Merry Yule to you all!’
‘MERRY YULE!’ the assembled crowd called back, along with a loud clatter of applause.
Mayor Belcher stepped down from the platform and tucked the speech away in his coat. Then he gestured to the platform.
Salle stepped forward first, taking Arianwyn’s hand in her own and squeezing tightly. Arianwyn followed, though her legs felt like lumps of iron. As they stood on the platform, the microphone between them, Arianwyn glanced down into the river below. It moved slowly, its waters heavy, full and dark, dark blue. She was almost tempted to throw herself in.
‘Ready?’ Salle whispered.
Arianwyn took one last deep shaking breath and nodded. She stood as straight as she could and smiled down at the crowds on the riverbank and then up at the people hanging over the high walls of Lull, grateful that all she mostly saw were the tops of umbrellas.
She reached forward and started to sketch Briå into the air before her. Once that glyph was complete she began to draw ʘru, the light glyph, over the top of Briå.
She didn’t have to reach far for the pocket of magic: a rich seam ran in the blue waters of the river, right beneath the bridge.
The magic surged upwards, naturally drawn towards the glyphs like electricity searching for the earth. The two connected glyphs fizzed and fused together, burning bold and bright for all to see, high above the river.
‘Now?’ Salle asked.
‘Now!’ Arianwyn nodded and the two girls stepped closer to the microphone and began the song.
‘Bird of ice and air and light,
Summoned here this Yuletide bright.
Awaken winter, bring the frost,
Return to us what once was lost.
Bird of snow and sleep and sorrow,
Fleeting, gone again tomorrow.
Pathways glisten in your wake,
To ice and snow tomorrow wake.
Bird of silent song and yearning,
Your ice-fire heart so deeply burning,
Bring us winter this Yuletide bright.
Come to the call of the good and the right!’
Their voices died out, replaced by the sound of the water moving under the bridge and the drumming of rain on the sea of umbrellas around them. The occasional call of a bird could be heard, or someone coughing in the crowd.
After what felt like for ever, Arianwyn heard a muttering behind her: ‘I don’t suppose she knows what she’s doing, poor love.’ She felt her cheeks redden as Salle glanced at her.
‘Did it work?’ Salle hissed.
The crowd were all staring up at the sky, but the clouds were still grey, the rain still falling.
‘I have no idea,’ Arianwyn replied, staring around herself. ‘Doesn’t look like it, does it?’ she mumbled. Could the day get more humiliating?
‘Look!’ a voice called, somewhere from the crowd high up on the walls of Lull. ‘Look – there it is!’
Arianwyn turned, almost falling from the platform. There, high in the air to the west of Lull, something was moving, something white, almost like a piece of cloud shifting on its own.
It was moving towards them.
It was fast and graceful and seemed to shimmer somehow in the weak winter light, as though it were lit from within, or as though it were made of crystal or ice. ‘Is that it?’ Salle asked.
‘I think so.’
‘It had better be,’ Mayor Belcher said gruffly, and then flashed a quick smile at the watching crowd.
And then a haunting song filled the air above them, echoing like a peal of far-off bells.
As the frost phoenix drew closer, people began to cheer and call and clap. Arianwyn could see the spirit creature clearer now, and she could also feel its immense power. Its wings were gigantic and, she guessed, easily spanned the width of the river. They were pure snow-white edged with brilliant ice-blue and they sparkled like diamonds, like ice!
Its long tail feathers fluttered out behind it as it flew towards Lull, following the line of the River Torr. It dipped down and its graceful claws disturbed the surface of the river, which rippled and then froze instantly, an icy pattern swirling out in every direction. There were loud gasps from the crowd.
Then from high above again came a second call to match the first. There was a gasp from the watching crowd as a second frost phoenix spun overhead before it spiralled down to join the first.
‘Oh my goodness,’ Salle gasped, clutching Arianwyn’s arm.
‘I know.’ Arianwyn giggled with delight and surprise, heart thrumming in her chest.
The two frost phoenixes spiralled together, flying high once more. They seemed to take in the watching crowd, turning this way and that to show off every feather, every breathtaking angle. The crowd cheered louder than ever as the two birds tumbled downwards, heading towards the bridge.
At the last second their wings spread wide and both creatures landed on the edge of the bridge wall, folding their shimmering wings behind them. The phoenixes’ eyes were sparkling blue-green like the now-frozen river water.
They studied the crowd which had fallen silent once more and then both birds leant forwards and bowed low before Salle and Arianwyn, who stood open-mouthed in wonder, unable to move.
As they did, the largest snowflake Arianwyn had ever seen, about the size of a small plate, fell through the air and tumbled into her open hands. Then another landed on the dark blue of her coat. It was joined by another and then another.
The rain had stopped, and the air was now filled with a bright, crisp winter chill. And snow, lots and lots of snow!
‘It’s snowing!’ Salle said, her voice full of expectation and excitement.
Chapter 21
The FEAST
he two frost phoenixes sat for a while on the bridge as townspeople moved forwards to gaze in wonder at the amazing birds. The mayor made sure that he was first to be photographed with the spirit creatures along with Arianwyn, and Colin and Salle, both wearing their crowns. ‘I expect the Flaxsham Chronicle might well include an article with the photograph,’ he said, puffing himself up and adopting his most regal pose as the photographer set up his camera. ‘Very well done, Miss Gribble; and Salle, of course.’
The rain had stopped and the huge snowflakes continued to flutter down around them. Already, the top of the bridge wall was dusted white. Perhaps they would have snow forYule after all, Arianwyn thought.
The phoenixes eventually appeared to grow bored of the attention. They each gave a low call before flapping their huge wings and taking off into the sky, where the grey rainclouds had lightened to a heavy white, promising more snow.
‘Where will they go now?’ Colin asked, glancing at Arianwyn.
‘I don’t know; I’m not entirely sure where they came from in the first place,’ she said.
They watch
ed as the two birds, who seemed to dance around each other in the air, flew out over the flooded meadow and high over Lull. As they disappeared, the snow seemed to fall thicker and faster behind them.
Somewhere a tune began to play, the sounds of an accordion and fiddle high and bright from within the town walls.
‘We’ll be able to go skating on the river tomorrow,’ Salle said cheerfully. ‘I can’t believe we’re finally going to have a real frost fair again! Come on, Colin, we’d better go and do our duties now. See you later, Wyn!’ Salle grabbed Colin’s hand and pulled him through the crowd by the East Gate.
He glanced back over his shoulder at Arianwyn briefly which only made her feel even more jealous that Salle had been chosen as the Winterthorn Queen. Not that she wanted to get dressed up in the silly outfit or have to do anything more – especially if it involved more singing! She had to admit that she was mainly jealous of how close her two friends had become.
‘Well done, dear!’
Arianwyn turned to see Miss Delafield in a bright green raincoat, with festive brass bells pinned to her collar that jingled as she leant forwards to hug Arianwyn. ‘That was superb!’
‘Thank you, Miss Delafield. It was good of you to come.’
‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world, dear. Though I have to go back to Flaxsham before the feast starts . . . so I’ll say goodbye now and Merry Yule.’
Arianwyn was aware that this goodbye was going to be for much longer than the usual few days before the next time she saw her supervisor. This was a proper goodbye.
She felt icy tears prick at the backs of her eyes. She sniffed and looked out across the frozen river. People were already taking careful steps out over the frozen water, loud whoops and cries of delight echoing back off the high honey-stone walls of Lull as the ice held firm.
‘I’m going to miss you so much!’ Arianwyn said, and reached forward to hug Miss Delafield. She really didn’t know how she would cope without her trusted supervisor so close by.
