by LJ Rivers
The sentry’s eyes tried to find Brendan’s. As they did, a hint of a smile crossed the dying man’s lips. “You’re a Don Hekal.”
“I am.”
“Your eyes tell me you have a strong heart still. My gratitude for your words.”
My magic, which I was still pushing into the soldier, suddenly reversed and snapped back inside like a broken rubber band. It caught me by surprise, and I had to steady myself to keep from falling. Death had claimed the soldier, and I didn’t understand why. Leaves of Eternal Sleep, he had said. Did my father poison him?
Brendan put the soldier gently on the sand and closed his eyelids with his fingers. I felt a jolt of love and pride shoot through my heart at how he had treated the dying man. Brendan smiled at me, and in the corner of his eye, a single tear balanced on edge, reflecting the glare from the phone’s flashlight.
“The sons of the Nether!” Halwyn spat.
He stood by the water, next to Jack and Erica, looking down at another decapitated sentry. As Jen approached, Jack pulled the dead sentry out of the water. The sentry’s green cloak, which I reckoned would look more juniper in daylight, folded out over a rock. Gold and silver threads had been embroidered into the cloak, forming a crest. The ornamented flowers and petals embraced an equally embellished—and quite familiar—letter.
M.
Chapter Five
“He said a Sorcerer sailed off with six others, a Changeling carrying an old Fae among them.” Brendan stared at the ink-dark water. “How far is Avalon, Halwyn?”
“Oh, not too far,” the Goblin replied solemnly. “When the wind is good, and the boat is not a pile of tinder, that is.” He inclined his head at the crushed boats. “Without a boat, you will have to walk. But not until the water is low again.”
Brendan nodded. “He knew how to slow us down. When is the water low again?”
“About six awrs from now.” He sighed. “Seems you will have to wait to keep your promise, Ruby. Best we go to my farm. You will need food and water for the crossing, and for your journey on the other side.”
“That is most kind of you, Halwyn,” I said.
He waved me off. “It’s how it has been done on Avalon for all times, so why not on my island, too?”
Charlie tapped his shoulder. “Excuse me, but shouldn’t we bury the dead sentries first?”
Halwyn furrowed his brow. “Bury? You mean dig a hole in the ground and all that?”
“Well, yes.”
“These men have served the queen well, and their spirits are on their way to wherever they believed they were heading. They have no more use for their flesh but, come daytime, there are plenty of others that crave it. So it is best not to fight them, I say.” The Goblin turned his pointy nose and short feet back to the path and started walking. “It is not customary to refuse a man’s hospitality, and I suggest you, a Don Hekal, don’t either.”
We had no choice but to follow, and I shuddered at the thought of who—or what—would take care of the dead sentries come sunrise, or whatever this dark sun of his was.
A couple of hundred yards up, the path forked, and Halwyn took a left, moving us away from the dark outline of the mountain, inside which we had entered this magical island some hours ago. From down on the shore, I thought I could hear some grunting or growling. Before I could be certain, though, the path crossed over a small ridge, leaving the shore, the lapping waves, and other sounds from the scene behind.
Kit had found his comfort in Jen’s arms, who in turn had joined Halwyn in front. He pointed straight ahead and said something to her, making her nod and lift her nose as if to draw in the scents. I glanced sideways at Erica and Jack, who also seemed to pick up on it.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Some herb,” Jack replied, his nose twitching. “Halwyn called it greengrains, but to me it smells like an outhouse, to be honest.”
I tapped the tip of my nose. “Sometimes, a regular human one is preferable.”
“Hold up,” Charlie said behind me. “You said human.” She took a couple of quick steps to fall in step with me. “Say something else, something from back home.”
“Uhm … like iPhone?” I flinched as the word left my mouth. “That’s weird.”
“I wonder if—” she began, then ran to Halwyn and Jen. She said something to him, to which he shrugged and replied.
Charlie smiled and returned to us in the back. “This is awesomesocks—which, by the way I can only say to you guys. We’re speaking English now, as Halwyn can’t hear us. Don’t you hear it, Ru? It sounds legit, too, doesn’t it?”
She was right. “It’s not the mimicked version of English. I don’t understand.”
“So, you’re saying we can speak English amongst ourselves, and Avalonian to anyone else?” Jack squinted his eyes at her. “How come?”
Charlie grinned and held her hands out like she was about to run across the field, singing about the hills being alive. “It’s magic, baby! Pure, magnificent, wonderful magic!” She almost did run out on the field. “Woohoo! I love this. It’s great, knitted foot garments!” Her mouth was agape, catching flies, and her eyes widened even further.
“What are you shouting for, you mindless Don Hekal?” Halwyn hissed. He stood next to Charlie, and grabbed her arm. “We are but moments from the dark sunrise, and you wish to announce to any and all that we are out here?”
“I—I’m sorry,” Charlie whispered.
“The night has many eyes and ears, as does the dark day. Some of these eyes and ears are attached to creatures that would find your flesh a nice addition to their morning meal.” Halwyn let his shoulders drop and drew in a breath. “Listen, Charlie the Don Hekal,” he said, his voice void of all anger. “You will be fine, as long as you take heed of old Halwyn of Crochan and his knowledge. The queen might have her erudites, but I bet you a sack and a half of barley that none of them have ever set foot outside the castle in Avalen.”
“Avalen?” I asked, happy to cut in on his scolding.
“The queen’s stronghold, yes. She fought long and hard to keep it from the usurper’s claws, so it was only natural that she gave it a proper name.”
“Is it a town, then?”
Halwyn let out a chuckle. “If Avalen is a town, then I am but three dark moons of age. A word of advice, should you ever set foot in Avalen. Never call it a town to anyone living there. Should be about forty thousand left there now, but used to be close to double. Avalen is the fairest, most prosperous city in all of Gwyn Fanon, even if it is not the largest. Now, young Fae. If you would be so kind as to let me get on with these stumps of mine, we might get home before—” He raised his chin and looked over my shoulder. “Or not. Let’s go.”
The Goblin moved at a brisk pace, not at all corresponding with his four-foot frame, and it was all we could do to keep up with him. I glanced over my shoulder now and then, looking for the sunrise—which I assumed was what he had talked about—but apart from a slight change from black to dark blue, the sky showed no sign of morning. I also noticed the lack of birdsong, but then again, there might not be any birds on this island, for all I knew.
We hiked for about twenty minutes, across fields of grains I couldn’t recognise in the dim light. At one point, my hand touched the thin strands atop some of the straws, and I guessed it might be the barley Halwyn had mentioned. A memory played before my mind’s eye, where Willow and I flew over a yellow sea of barley. I didn’t waste time asking Halwyn about it, though, as he was dead set on getting home before whatever the dark sun of his would bring.
The outline of a fence came into view on the other side of a brook. A stone bridge took us across, not unlike the King’s Crossing over the Nordee Brook back home in Chester.
Home.
It seemed a distant concept now that I had set foot on Avalon. Or at least a neighbouring island of the land I had heard about growing up. Mum and Dad were gone, and my only living blood relatives were no longer on Earth.
Still, it was home
, and as soon as I had settled my business on Avalon, or maybe in Avalen, I would go back to England. With my friends.
But maybe not with my grandparents. I couldn’t imagine what would make them want to leave this realm now that their lifelong dream was about to come true. Then again, they were in the hands of the one man who could kill their dream before it could be fulfilled.
My father.
Halwyn held the gate open for us, and we marched through like sheep to a pen. “It’s not much, but it’ll keep us warm and safe for a few awrs.” He pointed to a grove of trees.
The light had increased a smidge, and visibility was much better than when we left the poor juniper-clad soldiers by the shore. Among the trees, none of which were taller than ten feet, stood a cottage. As we drew closer, the texture on the wall became more pronounced. It was made of some sort of clay, with thick wooden logs supporting it in a timber-frame fashion. Dense grass sprouted from the roof, spilling over the edges at some places, almost brushing the ground. Kit jumped from Jen’s shoulder and ran in front, looking every bit the curious kitten he was when I first took him to Mum’s cottage in Chester.
“It looks cosy,” I said. “You are very kind to invite us here, Halwyn.”
“Think nothing of it. Out here on Crochan Island, we don’t have quite the same problems they have on Avalon. Or up north, for that matter. Goff, my closest neighbour to the east, went to Nidra’s Hollow last dark moon, and said he could have got thrice the pay for his goods.” Halwyn spat on the ground and rubbed his foot in it. “To the Nethers with anyone who would exploit a fellow like that.”
“This Goff,” Jen said. “He’s a Goblin, too?”
“None but Goblins live on Crochan Island, fair Changeling. None but Goblins would know up from down on a weeder, much less how to keep Sprygeons from eating more than their allowed share of the nightshade leaves.” He laughed again, louder than I had expected, given his shushing of Charlie earlier. “I would love to see the queen’s master of herbs mix a batch of Unsight without the Goblins’ magic to keep it from turning into eagle droppings.”
I smiled, not because I got the joke, but because he reminded me so much of my beloved Goblin friends back on Earth. Had it not been for the low, raspy voice, his words could have come from either Mari or her little sister, Tabitha. I liked to think of them as sisters, at least, and couldn’t help but swallow the lump in my throat at the thought of them. It still burned in me, the hope that Mari and Rhys made it past Travers and the Mag-Ops forces and all the way to Chester.
“Right, Don Hekals first for once,” Halwyn chuckled, pulling me out of my reverie. The sturdy wooden door, albeit only four feet tall, creaked as if it were the gates of some ancient castle. Maybe the queen’s, whoever she might be after all these centuries.
“Thank you.” Charlie bowed, both to Halwyn and to get through the opening. Brendan followed, and soon we were all inside. Brendan and Jack, both six feet plus, had to bend their necks to keep from hitting the solid beams that crisscrossed the ceiling. Kit scurried between my legs and almost made me trip before he vanished under a wooden bench. As I steadied myself, even I, at five-two, had to take care not to knock my head into anything, as all kinds of stuff was hanging from hooks on the same beams. There were gardening tools, pots and buckets, but also birds and other small game I assumed the Goblin had caught in snares or whatnots.
Halwyn closed the door and the minuscule light that had come through vanished. “I see the Changelings’ noses are working hard.” His voice moved through the darkness.
And the darkness contained something else. The call from the shadows was back. I hadn’t felt it since back in the cave, even though we had more or less been in the shadows ever since we came through the portal. Black, icy cold fingers wrapped around me, almost as real as Brendan’s arm around my waist. I shuddered, trying to ignore the pull, but it was harder than I had ever experienced before. As I felt the calling increase, its enticing song playing louder and louder in my head, I could see no other option than to use my magic. How would Halwyn react to me using fire? The townspeople of Perllanafal certainly hadn’t approved, and who knew how Avalonians would look upon a mixed breed like me?
But the shadows called insistently, and I was losing the fight. I wanted to join them, to go into what was already pitch-black surroundings. I had to stop them, so I summoned my fire. It responded in an instant, sending a warm glow through my veins and into my right palm. I let the tiny orb, no bigger than a pea, come out through my skin, casting a red glow from my hand.
The room lit up.
“My apologies,” Halwyn said, holding an oil lamp. “Have to keep it hidden when I’m not home during star-time. It’ll take your eyes a while to get used to the brightness.” He hung the lamp on one of the hooks in the ceiling.
I quickly retracted my burning pea, letting out a sigh of relief. The shadows’ song vanished as if someone had hit the mute button.
“What a beautiful home you have,” Erica said. “Please excuse my nose. It sometimes has a mind of its own.”
“Pay it no mind,” said Halwyn. “Changelings often disapprove of the quite pungent smell of greengrains. Particularly the children of Gwyn Tala.”
Jen sat on a low chair, her knees pointing past her chest. “We will learn to accept the scent.” She winked at the Goblin. “Might take a while, though.”
“During that time, you will all eat and rest.” Halwyn went through a door behind Jen’s chair, this one even lower than the main entrance. “I would offer you meat, but it takes too long. You will have to make do with bread and stew.” His voice grew fainter as he spoke.
I went to the door and crouched to look past the opening. A long hallway stretched inward, almost like a tunnel, with dozens of tiny doors on each side. Some twenty yards in, Halwyn came wobbling back, carrying a steaming hot cauldron.
“Do you need help,” I asked. “That looks scorching.”
“I’m fine,” he grunted, his face turning increasingly red from carrying the heavy load. “Just made the usual mistake of cooking for an army when I’m only me and myself.” He exhaled loudly as he dumped the iron cauldron on the floor. “Today, it was a clever mistake.” His grimace from carrying turned into a broad grin. “I will tell Goff about this, mark my words. He goes on and on about how a mistake is a mistake all the time. Well, today, he will eat those words. Just as you will eat my stew.” He nodded at Brendan. “Care to put this on the table while I get the thymebread?”
“With pleasure.” Brendan reached for the handles.
“Careful, Don Hekal. It’s hot. Take two towels from the kitchen, seeing as you haven’t any Leaves of Dullness.” Halwyn showed his hands, which were protected from the heat with two large, yellow leaves. He winked and returned to the door, which had a strange, greenish glow around the frame. It almost reminded me of the veil in the portal.
Minutes later, all of us had bowls of stew in our laps. Some of us sat on the floor, and some on tiny chairs. The stew itself was nice, though nowhere near Mari’s. Charlie was the one who found the right way to describe the bread, however.
“If one could capture magic and grind it into flour, it would be the first item on the recipe for this bread. It’s totally great knitted foot garments.”
This brought a storm of laughter from both herself and the rest of us. Halwyn, however, remained quiet, his head slanted and his eyes slightly narrowed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thank you for the kind words about my baking, which I would have to pay many sacks of barley to any of my neighbours to hear, by the way. But I fail to see the use of the knitted garments.”
Charlie, who was desperately wiping breadcrumbs off the table after spilling them when she burst out laughing, nodded. “It is no wonder, dear Halwyn. I have learned that we can speak your language, which I assume is Avalonian. That in itself is magical. But we also have our own language, the one we spoke back on Earth. In fact, when I was shouting and howling out in the field—and I’m very sorry for mak
ing all that noise—it was because of that very discovery. When I tried speaking my native tongue, it turned into Avalonian when you were within earshot.” She raised her shoulders and held her hands out, palms up. “At least that’s how I think it works.”
“Extraordinary,” said the Goblin. “If you make it to Avalen, you should tell this to the queen’s erudites. Her scriveners might have some more to say about it.”
Kit, who had been sleeping under the bench, came crawling out. He almost got caught in the narrow opening, which made no sense, as he had slid effortlessly under it earlier. As he trotted across the floor, he stretched his forelegs, extending his behind like only a cat could. He actually looked bigger, and his ears seemed slightly more pointy than before. I shook it off, focusing on the food again, as I was clearly energy deprived.
Also, there was something I had wanted to ask Halwyn ever since he first mentioned her. Dipping another chunk of the most amazing bread I had ever tasted into the broth, I couldn’t wait any longer. “Could you tell us about the queen? I noticed the embroidered M on the cloak of one of the sentries by the shore. Is she a descendant of Lady Morgana, perhaps?”
Halwyn froze, his own piece of bread suspended an inch short of his lips, it too freshly dipped in the broth. “A descendant? I don’t know what you mean.”
I cleared my throat and shifted on the uncomfortably low chair. “I just thought the M might stand for Morgana, but it doesn’t?”
The Goblin put his bread back on the edge of his bowl. “It certainly does. She is my queen, as she is the queen of Avalon and five surrounding realms. And the name Morgana reigns proud over all her lands.”
“You—you mean her ancestor, Lady Morgana?” I swallowed hard, somehow knowing what he was about to say, but nowhere near believing it. It simply could not be.
Halwyn stood, looking twice his height as pride seeped into his eyes. “I am Halwyn of Crochan, the queen’s loyal servant and cropkeeper. I have been so for the past twenty years and will be so for the next fifty if Nimue allows it. My queen is the first and only of her name, the Lady Morgana of Fay.” His voice boomed through the tiny cottage and would have impressed the most experienced speakers back home. “After all, only eighteen dark moons ago, Queen Morgana defeated the usurper king, Auberon, and banished him to the Realm of Shadows.”
