Nocturne

by Louise Cooper

  Indigo tried not to think about Grimya as she considered her next move. Stead had whistled a message to Forth, telling him that all was well and that she had arrived safely, and Forth had acknowledged, adding two cadences that signified must join together and urgency. But how, Indigo asked herself, was she to get Forth and Esty across the gauntlet of the square? For Stead to cross to the Brewmasters’ Hall was out of the question; the burden of Chari would hamper him too greatly if the wolves chose to attack. Indigo must return alone, and find a way to bring the others back with her. The prospect wasn’t pleasant, but she believed she could do it, for the chimera had taught her a valuable lesson. If she could only pass that lesson on to Forth and Esty, then at last there might be hope.

  Stead was reluctant to let her go again, but finally acknowledged that there was no other choice. He hadn’t witnessed what had taken place during Indigo’s first crossing of the square, for as soon as Forth had signalled the be ready code, he had run down to the tavern’s main door and waited in readiness for her arrival. Indigo was privately thankful for that. She hadn’t attempted to explain to Stead the nature of this world’s illusions and how they might be controlled, and didn’t intend to, for she had a strong intuition that the less Stead understood, the more valuable his own as yet untapped abilities might prove to be.

  She persuaded him to whistle coming to you—be ready across the divide to Forth and, heart thumping, went down the stairs of the inn. This time, she had resolved not to make any attempt to face out the wolf-pack, but simply to change shape and run with all the speed she could muster straight to the Brewmasters’ Hall. She knew that she’d be able to call up the chimera again, but didn’t believe it would be necessary. The phantom wolves seemed to have gathered on this side of the square, which gave her a slight advantage; for there would be none to cut across her path or head to meet her. With luck, and the element of surprise, she believed she could outrun them without the need to call on any other powers.

  Again, the thundering of her pulse, the suffocating tension as she eased the door open. The image of the tawny-grey wolf formed in her mind—it came faster this time, as though it had been waiting for her summons—and her muzzle went up to sniff the air, her hindquarters braced—

  Indigo burst from the doorway at full speed, head down, legs powering her forward. She heard the clamor go up, and her heightened instinct recognised furious chagrin in the rallying cry. Grim pleasure at the wolves’ confusion gave her an extra edge, and even as the pack came howling after her she knew that this time she had been too fleet for them. Ahead, the door of the Brewmasters’ Hall was opening; she glimpsed the blurred white oval of someone’s face. The wolves were closing, but not fast enough; with a last, tremendous effort she flung herself towards the portal and went careering through, cannoning into a human figure which yelled out as they crashed to the floor together in a tangle of fur and limbs and—

  She was lying gasping, winded by the bottom stair which had broken her fall, and clutching at the banister rail as wolf-Indigo fled and humanity returned. She heard someone scrambling to slam the door, and the thud of the bar returning, then hands helped her to turn and sit, and she saw Forth and Esty staring at her wide-eyed.

  Esty made a religious sign, but couldn’t find her tongue. Forth, though, was looking at her in open admiration.

  “You controlled it!” He sounded awed. “Indigo, you controlled it! And that—that creature—” He gestured helplessly, unable to describe the chimera in words.

  “You saw it?” Indigo struggled to regain her breath.

  He nodded. “Esty wouldn’t look, but I …” his voice tailed off and the nod transmuted into a shake of the head. “Great Goddess …”

  Indigo hauled herself to her feet. She had breath enough to climb the stairs now, she thought; and so much to say.

  “Let’s return to the upstairs room. We must let your father know that I’m back safely. And then we have plans to make.”

  From the balcony Forth sent a new message shrilling across the square, which Stead acknowledged. Indigo suspected that Stead hadn’t witnessed her transformation, and was relieved: though how he’d react to what—if her idea worked—would return across the square to the inn, she didn’t dare imagine.

  But she was glad that Forth, at least, had seen both her wolf-form and the chimera, for it would strengthen his own will and resolve. Knowing him, she surmised that he’d be fiercely determined to match her in every way, and if it took the goad of pride to achieve what was needed, all well and good. And what she’d learned from her own experience had given her the key that would unlock Forth and Esty’s powers, as hers had been unlocked.

  And so she explained her plan. Forth and Esty listened with growing excitement, but that excitement was tempered with trepidation, and Esty voiced the doubt that was in both their eyes.

  “Indigo, it’s a splendid idea. But how are we to achieve it? You have the ability—we’ve seen that with our own eyes. But what about Forth and me? We’ve only achieved the most trivial changes so far. How can we hope to do what this will demand of us?”

  “There’s a simple answer to that,” Indigo said. “It’s what you said earlier, Forth. The goad of fear. It was fear that triggered my ability to conjure the chimera. I was cornered, trapped; I had to save myself, and there was no time to think clearly. So I just reacted.”

  “And the chimera appeared.” Forth’s eyes were sharply speculative. “Yes. I understand. So if Esty and I are in the same straits …”

  “It’s dangerous,” Indigo admitted. “But I can’t think of another way for the three of us to reach Stead and Chari. And if it works—”

  “If,” Esty interjected.

  “Esty, I’m not underrating the risk. But if it works, then it’ll break the final barrier.” Indigo hesitated. She’d been undecided whether to attempt this, but decided that it had to be done if she was to convince her companions. She only prayed that she was right about her own skills, but, as Stead would doubtless have said, half measures wouldn’t sway a hostile audience. Give it all, or get off the stage.

  “Look over there,” she said, pointing to the far corner of the room.

  They turned their heads, and Indigo summoned her will. For a moment nothing happened; she concentrated harder, then felt the quick spark of adrenalin—

  Esty uttered a high-pitched cry, and Forth gasped. In the corner, a tree had appeared; a birch sapling with mottled silver-grey bark and young leaves a vivid spring green. It seemed to grow out of the floor, and its slim boughs quivered as though in a breeze.

  She’d done it…. Elated, Indigo focused her mind once more. This wasn’t the dead shade of Bruhome, but a woodland glade in her own homeland. She could see it, feel it, smell it …

  Grass began to spread out from the tree’s foot like an encroaching wave. Small flowers patched the green carpet: they looked so real that she felt she could have reached out and plucked one, and her nostrils flared at a new, warm-hay scent that suddenly seemed to fill the chamber.

  “It’s incredible …” Esty’s voice was awed.

  Forth shut his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose then looked again, as though he expected the vision to vanish. But Indigo knew it wouldn’t vanish; not until and unless she willed it. Illusion laid over illusion: she had imposed her will on this unreal world. It was the final test, and it had succeeded.

  Very quietly but with great emphasis, she said, “Fear unlocked the door for me. And I think it can do the same for you.” Another pause, “I may be wrong, and I can’t make the final decision—”

  Forth looked keenly at her. “But you believe we can do it?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  There was a long silence. Then Forth said: “Well, then. That’s good enough for me.” He looked up, glanced a little uncertainly at the tree and then turned to his sister. “We’ve got to reach Da and Chari somehow, Es. And I reckon we could sit here forever and not find a safer way. So I say we try it.”

&nb
sp; Esty hesitated, then: “Yes.” She blinked, tossed her hair back with assumed bravado. “It’s the only way.”

  Indigo gave silent thanks, at the same time pushing down a worm of guilt. She had to trust her judgment, and believe that she wouldn’t be leading her friends into disaster. Otherwise, what hope did they have?

  “And when we’ve done it,” Forth said. “If our own abilities are unlocked—what then? Because it seems to me that if this does break down the barriers, it’s going to change the nature of the play. What d’you think our demon friend will make of that?”

  “I’ve an idea about it,” Indigo told him, “but I haven’t had the chance to think it through.”

  “Tell us.”

  She hesitated. “I’d prefer not to say too much until we have your father with us, for if this is to work, we’ll need him perhaps above all. But … well, you used the analogy just now, Forth. The play. That’s how the demon sees us: as puppets dancing on its stage and to its tune.” She smiled, and there was something lupine in the smile that sharply recalled wolf-Indigo. “I’ve been thinking that perhaps we should give the demon precisely what it wants—but not necessarily in the way that it anticipates.”

  “A play?” Esty was baffled.

  “Yes, and no.” Indigo glanced at the tree which still rustled gently in the corner of the room, then at the square of the balcony window. “I’d rather not say anything about it yet. Wait until we’re with Stead; then we can all talk more fully. For now, I think it would be better to concentrate on the more immediate problem. After all, if we don’t solve that successfully, there’ll be little point in discussing any further plans.”

  Reluctantly Forth and Esty agreed, and they began to make ready. The possessions that they’d brought with them into the demon world were now whittled down to a few sorry remnants, and they divided them evenly, ensuring that everyone would have as little as possible to carry. Their water supplies were dangerously low and food almost non-existent; and Esty said wryly that it was a pity they couldn’t conjure something to eat and drink that was more substantial than an illusion.

  At this, Forth froze. “Water …” he said. “Great Mother, how has Da survived without water?”

  Indigo stared at him. It hadn’t once occurred to her that Stead had entered the demon world without so much as a thimbleful of water in his possession: yet he’d shown no sign of thirst, and hadn’t even asked her if she had water with her. She recalled the fire he’d built with materials from the illusory tavern. The tinderbox which had worked; the broken chair which had fueled the flames … could Stead’s innocence have extended even to finding water simply because he believed it must be there? If that was so,‘ then Indigo had gravely underestimated the potential value of his abilities, and she felt the hot, shivering clutch of inner excitement as she thought of how such an asset might aid them in the final phase of her plan.

  Aloud, she said, “When we reach the Apple Barrel we’ll get to the root of the mystery. And the sooner we can do that, the better.” She looked at them both in turn. “Have you decided on the images you mean to fix in your minds?”

  “Bears,” Esty said firmly. “That’s what I think wolves are frightened of. Bears, and those great hunting cats that live in the northern lands.” She glanced at Indigo. “I’ve never seen such a cat, but I’ve seen pictures of them; and if I was a wolf they’d terrify me!”

  Forth grinned. “Anything that comes into my head will do. I doubt if I’ll have a chance to be that fussy!”

  Indigo returned his smile drily. “You’re probably right. And whatever comes most strongly will have the most power.”

  “And what of you?” Forth asked. “Will it be the chimera again?”

  She’d considered one particular illusion she might conjure, and the thought of it sent £ sensation like a cold spike through her stomach. But she didn’t want to reveal it; not yet.

  “No,” she said. “It won’t be the chimera. It’ll be something very different.”

  And so for the third time the breathless waiting, the tight-shut eyes and the silent prayers for good fortune. This time, though, Forth’s square, roughened palm was closed over Indigo’s right hand, while Esty’s smaller, softer ringers gripped her left. And for a moment of sheer fancy, in her mind Indigo was again a part of the Brabazon Fairplayers, standing ready with her good friends and co-performers in the last keyed-up moment before they stepped on to the stage.

  That was it. Hold to that; keep the image, don’t let it go. Suddenly she recalled a piece of doggerel that had become a long-standing private jest among the family when a hostile or apathetic audience awaited them, and on impulse she spoke the first two lines of it aloud.

  “We’ll take the stage and we’ll take a bow,

  And if they don’t like us, this we vow—”

  Forth smothered a laugh—taut and high-pitched, but a laugh none the less—and he and Esty joined in to complete the rhyme.

  “We’ll take their money, and when we’re done,

  Then we’ll take to our heels and run!”

  Fired by a rush of reckless confidence, Esty gave a high, yodeling cry as Forth wrenched the door back, and together, still holding hands, they rushed out into the square. For a dizzying moment Indigo almost believed that they were indeed running out on to a stage, under the glare of flamboys, with a sea of eager faces and applauding hands waiting to greet them. For a moment she felt the spring of wooden boards beneath her feet, glimpsed Esty in her dancing costume, tambourine raised; heard a ghostly snatch of the fiddle and the hurdy-gurdy—

  Then the howling went up from a hundred phantom throats and the images whirled away, too tenuous to hold, and she heard her own voice shouting a warning.

  “They’re coming! Drive them back! Drive them back!”

  Black shapes erupting from the shadows across the dark square, crimson eyes blazing, drooling, fang-filled mouths gaping wide in anticipation of the prey. Esty’s momentary defiance collapsed into a scream of fear and her fingers splayed rigid so that Indigo almost lost her grip on them. They were running, but the wolves were faster, surging towards them, cutting off retreat, spreading like an evil tide, a wave to swamp and overpower and drown them. Forth yelled as the first of the horrors swerved across his path and leaped to snatch for his unprotected right arm. He stumbled, evading the clashing teeth by a hairsbreadth, then lost his balance and his hold on Indigo’s hand and went staggering away, his own momentum spinning him helplessly around.

  “Forth!” Indigo cried desperately. But he couldn’t heed her, and then she had no chance to shout again, for another wolf came snarling at her and she was forced to spring to one side to evade it. There was no time for reason: her free arm swung in a wild, reflexive attempt to beat the monster off—and suddenly there was a sword in her hand, glittering with an evil sheen, and she felt the jarring of her arm, felt it as the blade smashed into flesh and through bone, and the wolf, shrieking agony, bowled and bounced across the cobbles with black blood spraying from its severed throat.

  Esty cried out and flung herself against Indigo, trying to hide her face in Indigo’s hair. In the chaos of darkness and milling, leaping forms Forth was invisible, but Indigo could hear him shouting in a fury of terror and desperation. And Esty was screaming, her legs giving way, threatening to drag Indigo with her down on to the cobbles.

  “No, Esty! The bear—call the bear!” Indigo was frantic; her sword had flickered and vanished, and she couldn’t rally her wits while the girl still clung to her. Everything was going wrong; she couldn’t control it—her friends would be borne down, torn apart—

  Suddenly a maniacal shriek split the air, a shrill, impossibly high-pitched screech that came from behind and above them. The wolves yelped, falling back momentarily, and Indigo whirled.

  From the balcony of the Brewmasters’ Hall, a living river of squat, ungainly creatures was swarming down towards the ground. More shrieks echoed in the wake of the first, and, hopping and jumping with a horrifyingly
bizarre gait, the creatures sprang to the cobbles and flung themselves into the fray.

  Indigo’s heart missed so painfully that for a moment she thought she’d lose all control and vomit with a mingling of revulsion and relief. She’d succeeded—the image she’d striven to implant in her thoughts had taken root, and out of the night, out of nightmare, out of her imagination, the Scatterers, grotesque, cat-like horrors from Southern Isles mythology, had come, yammering their ravenous greed, to aid her. She heard the first panic-stricken howl as six of them set upon a single wolf; glimpsed the flurry of blood and viscera as the phantom was disemboweled, saw, only moments later, shattered splinters of bone flying in all direction as the creatures hurled the stripped bones of their victim to the four winds. Their countless hundreds of teeth chattered and clattered with an awful sound that seemed to fill the square; and more were squirming like maggots from the very fabric of the buildings, streaming down the walls, leaping at their quarry in mad, insensate hunger.

  But the wolves were beginning to fight back. Three Scatterers went down under an onslaught of snapping jaws and were bitten in two before they could retaliate; and others, outnumbered, were ripped limb from limb. The pack was rallying, and, urging them on, calling them to turn on their attackers, the howling cry of one single animal rose above the din.

  Grimya! But Indigo couldn’t see her, couldn’t reach her mind. And now the Scatterers were falling back under the wolves’ renewed onslaught. They couldn’t hold their ground, the illusions were shattering, breaking apart—

  Suddenly a throaty roar sounded to her left. Two wolves, clear of the bloody melee, were turning to come at her, and in striving frantically to recreate her sword she had no chance to turn her head and look. The wolves crouched, snarling—the sword materialized but it was unstable, flickering wildly-then a huge, dark bulk barreled across her line of vision, and a massive, ghostly bear, jaws wide and bellowing in fury, charged at the wolves. It hit them like a battering-ram and they spun away, howling and disintegrating into tatters of smoke as the bear lumbered on across the square. Indigo heard Esty cry out again, but this time it was a scream of triumph: and the next instant the square seemed to erupt, as though the very Earth had opened, and from every side, every street, every house, a horde of phantoms came screaming and roaring and howling. Beasts, birds, chimerae—giant cats with the wings and beaks of eagles, horse-headed serpents, titanic, web-footed hounds—disgorged into the demon world and falling on the wolf-pack in a nightmare tide.