by Chrys Cymri
‘Goleuadau!’ the snail called out.
Many tiny points of light flared in response. ‘Glow-worms,’ James said delightedly. ‘Just like in New Zealand.’
The glow-worms hung from the ceiling and clung to the walls. I was reminded of looking up at the stars on a moonless night, although admittedly stars didn’t dangle sticky snares from elongated bodies. The blue-white light revealed that we stood on dry and level ground. The cavern was about the size of my double bedroom at home. More glow-worms lit a passageway off to our right.
‘These only give light,’ Cornelius said dismissively. ‘Y’all come this way.’
Morey took one look at the low ceiling and fluttered down to the floor. It was back to single file as we went deeper into the complex. Bits of silky thread tangled into my hair. I shuddered as tendrils brushed across my face. Being the human at the front had distinct disadvantages.
‘It’s their poop, you know,’ James said behind me. ‘The bit that glows.’
‘No, it’s not,’ Morey snapped. He was marching just behind the snail. ‘Glow-worms convert waste into light. No excretion.’
The ceiling rose as we entered another cavern. The snail halted, and Cornelius angled his head towards us. ‘Y’all face the far wall.’ I obeyed. Six very large snail sharks stood on our left.
The cave plunged into darkness. My fingers searched for my iPhone, and I tried to remember when I’d last charged it up. My eyes ached at the lack of light.
A pattern formed ahead of us. Swirling blue-white dots flowed across the rock. ‘These are the deeds of the Ancient Leader, first of our Eternal Leaders,’ Cornelius intoned, using his more clipped accent. ‘The Ancient Leader brought her people to this fine land. But not all welcomed their arrival.’
‘I don’t get it,’ James complained. ‘What am I supposed to see?’
‘It’s the outline of a snail,’ Peter said. ‘See? That circle is the shell. Those longer bits are meant to be tentacles. I think the smaller circles are supposed to be other snails.’
‘It’s not very clear.’
Peter chuckled. ‘I think it’s amazing the glow-worms can do this much.’
The circle developed long lines, and the image moved up the wall. ‘Flying,’ I guessed. ‘Corneluis, the Leaders--’
‘The Eternal Leaders.’
I suppressed a sigh. ‘You’re using genders for the Eternal Leaders.’
‘The snail sharks find the whole gender thing pretty confusing. I decided to take turns between the Eternal Leaders, and they fell in with that.’
Morey added, ‘Clyde referred to his parent as mam, remember? The Welsh for mother.’
More glow-worms lit up the wall. I squinted. ‘It’s a dragon,’ Peter decided. ‘The lines from the head are meant to be flames.’
The tendrils of light wriggled across from dragon head to snail. The outline of the Ancient Leader collapsed in upon itself. Only a bright ball of light remained. Then even that was gone, leaving only the dragon shape spread across the wall.
‘The Ancient Leader died at the breath of a blue dragon,’ Cornelius said. ‘Bow in memory of the Ancient Leader.’
I placed my hands on either side of my head and obeyed. James sounded as if he were trying to stifle a giggle. Peter spoke low and urgently in his ear, and I hoped my brother took heed of the warning. The shells of the snails near the wall were the height of my waist. I didn’t want to risk antagonising them.
‘The blue dragon,’ Cornelius continued, ‘was hunted down by the Glorious Leader.’ A renewed circle formed. Smaller lines of light, which I assumed were meant to be teeth, ran into the dragon’s head. ‘The dragon’s corpse fed the Glorious Leader’s entire army for a week.’
Now I was very glad Raven wasn’t with us.
The insect’s mount moved off into another passageway. We followed. I held up my hands, pushing tendrils to one side. My skin was twitching as I imagined insects setting up home in my clothes.
As I stepped into the next cavern, light flared from thousands of glow-worms. A large stone, several feet high, had been placed in the centre. A blackened snail shell rested on the flat top. On another stone, nearly as large, was a pile of bones, with a skull balanced across the skeleton’s yellowed legs. The long head, white teeth, and wide eyesockets could only belong to a dragon. A dozen snail sharks lined the walls, their bellies split open to reveal their jaws. When the mantis and his mount bowed, I was quick to follow suit.
‘The Ancient Leader,’ Cornelius explained. ‘We honour her memory. She is an Eternal Leader, always alive in our minds.’
We made our way around the remains, down another passageway, and into a smaller cavern. And to another light show. ‘The Glorious Leader destroyed the blue dragon,’ Cornelius said. ‘He then established the Nation. Creatures came to bring him tribute.’ I decided that the hopping motions of the elongated circle was meant to represent a were-rabbit. ‘The Glorious Leader was also an explorer, and flew far and wide, carving himself thin places as he roamed in search of knowledge.’
Fortunately the statement seemed to pass the men by. ‘Lemmings?’ Peter asked as smaller shapes traced across the wall. ‘Maybe those lines are meant to be wings?’
‘The Glorious Leader went to a place of cold and snow.’ Sparks of light trickled from ceiling to floor as the mantis spoke. ‘The creatures there, these lemmings, realised that they were in the presence of greatness. They begged to become members of the Nation.’
The lemmings gathered around the circle which represented the snail shark. ‘But tragedy struck,’ Cornelius continued. ‘One night, as the Glorious Leader was resting, a bear attacked the group.’ The glow-worms formed a credible paw, curved claws slicing through the image of the snail. ‘The Glorious Leader was killed. The lemmings brought his shell and the tale of his death back the Nation. Bow in memory of the Glorious Leader.’
I obeyed, then asked, ‘And his successor killed the bear?’
‘The Noble Leader did just so.’ The mantis raised his forelegs. ‘She flew through the crossing place and tracked down the bear. Only his paws were left to rot.’
The bear shape could be made out with a bit of imagination. Oblong shapes, which I assumed were meant to be paws, moved across the wall.
We walked deeper into the complex. The next cavern, again brightly lit, contained another two large slabs of rock. The snail shell was surprisingly intact. The bear skull perched on the shattered ribcage, broken jaws angled towards the remains of the Glorious Leader. The snail guards watched as we bowed to the shell, Cornelius intoning, ‘The Glorious Leader. We honour his memory. He is an Eternal Leader, always alive in our minds.’
Another passageway, more glow-worm tendrils to weave their way into my hair. I wondered if I could convince Raven to take me back to my house in Northampton for a decent shower. The next chamber was smaller than the previous two. The temperatures had steadily dropped as we moved further into the complex, and I zipped up my coat. The sound made the snail guards growl, and I gave them a weak smile.
‘And now we come to the deeds of the Noble Leader,’ Cornelius recited. Glow-worms formed a new circle on the wall. ‘The Noble Leader took up the fight against the rebels, who had broken away from the Nation during the time of her predecessor. She led numerous forays into their territory, and followed their escapes to the sister world. She rejoiced when the citizens of our sister world branded the rebels and returned them to the Nation for judgement and death.’
I couldn’t help but glance at Peter. His face had paled. ‘Branded?’ he asked.
‘With markers of their criminal status.’ The glow-worms swirled into new patterns. Numbers took shape inside the circular shapes of shells.
‘You said they kept turning up dead,’ I reminded him. ‘That’s why you stopped painting numbers on them. By the way, did you ever repeat numbers?’
‘Never. Why?’
‘Many of the snails who attacked Caer-grawnt had the same numbers.’
A
new, much smaller circle had formed on the wall. ‘One terrible day,’ Cornelius continued, ‘the Noble Leader took her heir on one such trip to our sister world.’
I straightened. ‘Which leader was her heir?’
‘The Great Leader.’
Now it was my turn to pale. We were being told the story of Clyde’s mother.
‘The rebels summoned assistance.’ A dragon swirled between the numbered circles and those representing Clyde and his parent. ‘The Noble Leader fought bravely to defend her heir.’ The circle bumped up against the glowing outlines of the dragon shape. ‘Her shell was shattered, and for a long time we thought that the Great Leader was also lost to us. It’s now his task to wreak vengeance upon the rebels who killed the Noble Leader.’
I released my breath. No mention of scuttling chickens, a desperate clergywoman, or gardening tools. ‘My sorrow for your sorrow.’
‘The death site is now a place of pilgrimage.’ The glow-worms formed long streamers. ‘Wings are left in honour of the one who could fly.’
We were led into the next chamber. The broken remains of a snail’s shell glistened on the stone slab. I lowered my face into my hands, and somehow managed to suppress a groan. For on the second rock, metal gleaming in the shifting light, was a blue handled shovel.
Chapter Nineteen
Peter sidled up to me and gave me a slight nudge. ‘Is that the...?’
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
‘Bow to the Noble Leader,’ Cornelius reminded us. We hurried to obey. ‘The Noble Leader. We honour her memory. She is an Eternal Leader, always alive in our minds.’
My fingers twitched as I lowered my hands to my sides. I’m sorry you died, I thought at the shell. But you were trying to kill me, and you could have crippled Raven. I’ve done my best to look after your son. And he’s been returned to the Nation.
We followed Cornelius back through the chambers, pausing to bow to each relic in turn. The mantis changed mounts at the exit. The new snail was slightly larger, which gave better purchase for his middle and hind legs.
The two men passed me as I strained to climb back up the hill. Even Morey flew on ahead, choosing to land on Peter’s shoulder rather than bring up the rear. So it was only me and a mantis-laden snail picking our way along the gravel and on to grass. ‘The Nation’s grateful that y’all took in the Great Leader,’ Cornelius said. ‘They know lots of folks think snail sharks fell out of the ugly tree, and hit every branch on the way down.’
The imagery made my head swim. ‘Why are they called the Nation?’
‘That’s the nearest word I could find.’
The top of the hill looked a lifetime away. Once again I promised myself that I’d join a gym, or take up walking, or at least free my bicycle from the back of the garage. ‘Snail sharks invaded Caer-grawnt. The town I’m currently living in.’
‘Ma’am, snails from the Nation don’t go around attacking others,’ Cornelius asserted. I thought of Clyde’s mother chasing me around a back garden in Earls Barton, but said nothing. ‘Did these snails have numbers?’
‘Yes.’
‘The rebels.’ The mantis sounded glum. ‘The General keeps taking the army out against them, but he’s never caught them all.’
‘When did he last try?’ I puffed
‘Two days ago. Over yonder, to the east. He’d word that rebels were by the Top Rocks. Those’ll never bother y’all again.’
‘Two days ago?’ I was watching my boots, which was far less depressing than trying to gauge how much longer it would take to crest the hill. ‘Then those won’t be the same ones which attacked the town.’
‘They’re all part of the same group, and they all deserve to die. They tried to kill the Great Leader, those snakes in the grass. Did you find the Great Leader after his mam was murdered?’
‘Yes, I took him in. He was so much smaller back then.’
‘You care about him?’
‘I love him.’ My throat hurt from more than just physical effort. ‘I’m going to miss him. I’m just sorry I never managed to get him confirmed.’
The snail stopped suddenly. Cornelius turned to face me. His antennae were weaving frantically, and his forelegs snapped open and shut. ‘Ma’am, please, I’m begging you, never use that word.’
I stared at him. ‘It’s nothing awful. Just a Christian taking on his baptismal vows for himself.’
‘I know what it means,’ the mantis said. ‘Don’t go about using it around the Nation. Or anything to do with religion. Understand?’
‘Got it,’ I muttered.
The ground finally evened out. I wanted to do nothing more than flop onto the scraggly grass and catch my breath. But I forced myself to walk up to the two men, who didn’t appear to be even slightly winded.
‘James agrees with me,’ Peter said as I came to his side. ‘Kilts for the men in the bridal party. What do you think?’
‘We could have the Help for Heroes tartan,’ James added. ‘Part of the money goes to the charity. I like the idea that we’d be helping retired soldiers.’
‘Scottish blood?’ I asked, trying not to wheeze. ‘We don’t have any.’
‘Don’t need any for that tartan.’ James grinned. ‘Anyway, women go mad for a man in a kilt. Any lookers on your guest list, Sis?’
‘I think Rosie’s daughter, Emily, is coming. She’s single and about your age.’ Emily was also far too sensible to be entranced by my brother’s dubious charms. I turned to Cornelius. ‘Thank you for the tour. Where next?’
The mantis bent his triangular head. ‘The sun’s looking for her porch swing. I reckon we go back to the Great Leader for his say so.’
The downhill slope allowed me to finally regain control of my breathing. Morey deigned to transfer to my shoulder. ‘I’d like you to be part of the wedding party,’ I said to my Associate. The late afternoon sun glinted on the standing stones ahead of us. ‘But the service will be in St Wulfram’s. Hardly anyone would be able to see you.’
The rub of his cheek against mine told me more than words could ever have done. ‘I will guard your children as I do my own.’
‘That’s very kind of you. But there won’t be any.’
Morey stared at me. ‘Are you sure? I’m certain Peter thinks otherwise.’
We’d reached the edge of the gathered snails, which gave me an excuse not to answer. Cornelius launched himself from his mount, his brown wings carrying him over to the flat rock. I followed James and Peter through the snail-free gap, past the stones, and to the centre. There was no sign of Clyde, nor Jago. I felt Morey shift on my shoulder.
A sigh from the snails made me look at their eyespots. All of them were stretched upwards. I placed a hand over my forehead and followed the direction of their gaze. A snail was flying high above us, his wings bright white against the darker blue. He pulled up, and then went into a sudden dive. Now Morey’s claws dug through my coat to the skin underneath. Jago was clinging to the snail’s shell, his blue body shuddering under the speed of Clyde’s fall.
The long wings spread out again when snail and gryphon were only twenty feet above us. Clyde pulled up into a long glide. A sigh swept through the gathered snails. I glanced down, and saw their bodies glowing with blues, pinks, and purples. ‘Arweinydd mawr, arweinydd mawr, arweinydd mawr.’ The chant swept across the hill top. ‘Arweinydd mawr, arweinydd mawr, arweinydd mawr!’
Clyde circled down to the flat rock, Jago still clutching onto his shell. The small gryphon’s crest was raised high in excitement, and his tail lashed as the the snail backwinged. I felt Morey relax as Clyde landed. Jago looked up at us and laughed.
‘That boy,’ Morey said grimly, ‘is putting years on me.’
I glanced at James. ‘It’s called being a parent.’
Jago hopped down to stand next to the snail. Morey strode over to the base of the rock. ‘Time to go, son.’
‘No,’ Clyde said. ‘Stays.’
‘We have to go,’ I told the snail. ‘You ha
ve your reponsibilities here, and we have ours back in Caer-grawnt and England.’
‘Jago stays.’
‘I can’t agree to that,’ Morey said. ‘Jago still can’t hunt for himself. He needs care.’
Dark colours streamed through Clyde’s body, accompanied by a wriggling of tentacles. James looked at me, and gave a quick shake of his head. Cornelius interpreted for us. ‘The Great Leader insists that young Jago remains.’
‘Jago can’t stay here forever,’ I said. ‘He needs to be with other gryphons.’
Clyde swivelled his eyespots towards Morey. ‘One week.’
‘The lad,’ Morey said evenly, ‘comes back with us now.’
‘One week.’ Clyde’s belly split open, exposing his jaws. ‘One week!’
James took a step forward. The hundreds of snail sharks surrounding us reared up on their feet. The rasp of teeth against teeth made my neck prickle. Cornelius clicked his forelegs. ‘Sir, show the sense you’re born with. Best y’all agree to the Great Leader’s request.’
Jago looked very small against Clyde’s shell. But there was only trust in the way the gryphon leaned against the one he called ‘Uncle.’ James cleared his throat. ‘I could stay too. To make sure Jago’s properly fed.’
‘No,’ Clyde said before I could protest. ‘Only Jago.’
Morey leapt onto the rock. Ignoring the hissing protests from the nearby snail sharks, he marched up to Clyde. Snail and gryphon were nearly of equal height, and red-brown eyes looked into brown eyespots. ‘On your honour, Clyde, you will protect this son of mine. And in a week’s time, I will return to take him home.’
Jago bounced over and reached up to nudge his father’s chest. Then he rested back on his hindlegs and signed. ‘He’ll have a good time with Uncle Clyde,’ James translated. ‘You don’t have to worry about him.’
‘Keep yourself safe.’ Morey sighed. ‘Or your mother will have my ears for a necklace.’
Jago hopped over to the end of the stone. A leap took him into the air, and his wings held him in place for a moment. James caught him just before he lost altitude. For a moment, he held the small gryphon to his chest. Then he looked over at Cornelius. ‘Bits of meat about an inch long. About the size of your front legs.’ He gave Jago a quick kiss on the top of his beak before placing the gryphon down.
