Dark Embers

by R. L. Giddings

  The door swung open, a puff of dry air ruffling the queen’s hair. Macrory went first and I followed. The sense of dread, urging me to turn back was immediate and I had to take a moment to compose myself. Macrory gave me a nervous smile. He must have felt it too. But then Silas was there, his rich coat brushing against me in the enclosed space and the dread subsided to be replaced by a calm reassurance. The tower was the main source of power for the Sidhe. If we were able to harness it then there was a very real chance that Silas could be restored to his former self. It was a gamble but one that I was only too willing to take.

  “Are you sure about this?” Macrory muttered close to my ear. “The Dandelion Tower was not built to accommodate mortal man.”

  “Good. Because I am witch born.”

  “Which doesn’t make you invulnerable. If you ever hope to leave this place you’d do well to follow my lead.”

  I gripped his arm in the dark. “I will do as you say.”

  He led me along a dark corridor, much longer than should have been possible within the confines of the building itself. Eventually, I felt my shoe brush against a low step.

  “You’ll have to lower your head,” he said, his hand guiding me up into an echoing stairwell. The stairs were irregular and there was no handrail so, every couple of steps I would stumble and fall forward. Eventually, I discovered that I climbed more confidently if I braced myself against the dry stone walls. The progress was slow but steady.

  By the time I got to the first landing, my face and neck were slick with sweat. There was a narrow window set into the wall and, when I looked out, I was shocked to see how high we were. The palace grounds were laid out beneath us, parts of it now reduced to rubble by the earthquake.

  Then I got to thinking what would happen if the tremors weren’t over. Being at the top of the tower when the next quake hit didn’t seem like the most sensible place to be but there was no alternative.

  Macrory joined me at the window. He was breathing heavily.

  “Having second thoughts?” he gasped.

  “I’m worried about the earthquakes.”

  “That the only thing you’re worried about?”

  With that, he set off up into the darkness.

  A few minutes passed with us climbing in silence.

  I was the first one to speak.

  “She says Ib Ure’s at the top of these stairs. While I do want to believe her, she hasn’t said anything about helping transform Silas back into his human form.”

  Macrory stopped for me to catch up and then took hold of my arm.

  “I noticed that too,” he was struggling to catch his breath. “But you’ve got to understand: this is Aleena delle Shonosh Thirabitrubis you’re dealing with. Aleena the Stormbringer, Queen of the Cursed Crown. She isn’t used to sharing her toys. We’re going to have to tread carefully.”

  I started to protest but stopped myself. He was right. I couldn’t get her to help me simply because I’d returned Sigurdsil to her. I needed to find some another form of leverage.

  “Even if you do get her to help you and Silas somehow emerges with all his wits, there is something else you haven’t considered.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You might change him back into a man but – in the process – you may also rob him of his ability to turn back into a wolf.”

  “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  Macrory turned to regard me in the half-light.

  “He might not thank you for it. The pack would have no option but to cast him out in that case. And that’s a hard road. A very hard road. I’ve seen it before and a lot of them just can’t handle it.”

  “What do you mean: ‘just can’t handle it’?”

  “Can’t live with themselves. Know what I mean?”

  I just stared at him blankly. It struck me as likely that he might be speaking the truth, but I didn’t want to listen. Not then, at least.

  Macrory continued to climb, leaving me alone with my thoughts. It was only when I heard the sound of Silas’s breathing coming up behind me that I stirred myself into action.

  *

  After twenty minutes of climbing, we came to the first staging area: a large, circular room with a solid, mechanical core at its centre. I slumped against the nearest wall, simply too tired to engage in conversation. Instead, I took the opportunity to drink some water from the bottle I’d brought with me. There was a complicated mural running around the wall which seemed to represent some kind of hunting scene. I was trying to work out what the animals were that they were hunting, when Silas appeared looking like a malignant shadow.

  He began to move around the walls, his eyes fixed on me.

  I turned to Macrory who was squatting down, adjusting his shoelaces.

  “How much further?”

  “There’s another level like this about two thirds up then it’s a solid climb to the top.”

  A solid climb to the top. I didn’t like the sound of that.

  “And you say the other knives are up there?”

  “I’m not sure exactly what’s up there. A good few surprises, at least.”

  I made a non-committal gesture, then pointed to the mural.

  “Funny kind of hunt.”

  A satyr with an erection was pursuing a maiden into some bulrushes.

  “What did you expect? We’re the Sidhe. Far less bothered about impropriety than you humans. My favourite one’s over there.”

  I looked across at beautiful naked couple locked in an act of lovemaking. The figures were extremely detailed and somehow familiar.

  “Is that the queen?” I said in a stage whisper.

  “That’s right. You’ve got to admit: she’s aged well. And that fine specimen with her is Oberon.”

  “So, they were lovers? But I thought that he and Silesia…”

  “Also correct. He played the two sisters off against each another. He managed to get away with it for a long time and then, one day, Aleena turned on him.”

  “But I thought you said Oberon was killed fighting the Great Bear.”

  “That’s according to the myth. But which version do you think most likely?”

  We studied the mural for several minutes, it was a fantastic piece of work which had probably only ever been seen by a small handful of people.

  Aleena finally appeared a few minutes later, her forehead damp with sweat. But she had no intention of taking a break. She started up the next flight of stairs without so much as a backwards glance and Silas simply followed.

  I made Macrory wait behind to ensure that we wouldn’t bump into them on the stairs. The thought of my plan actually taking shape was beginning to frighten me. I’d always assumed that, if we ever managed to arrive at this juncture, Silas would simply comply with whatever it was that I wanted him to do. But the reality of the situation was markedly different.

  What if we managed to turn him back into human form only for him then to turn to Aleena for companionship? If so, then there was nothing that could be done about it. Ultimately, it would have to be Silas’ decision. I’d promised Carlotta that I would find a way to change him back and that’s what I intended to do.

  The air seemed thinner now and I had to stop every ten or fifteen steps through sheer dizziness. The stairs were becoming steeper and, after all we’d done to get there, it wouldn’t do to take a tumble now.

  We were even more exhausted by the time we reached the next level and I went and sat in one of the window alcoves. Over to the east, a pall of black smoke hung in the air. It looked to be the result of some enormous forest fire. I wondered what other natural disasters were manifesting themselves across Arcadia.

  *

  We took a long time climbing the next stage. By this time, our legs were beyond complaining and I was starting to walk with a stoop. The stairs seemed to stretch interminably ahead of us. Every time I detected a brightening of the light ahead, I told myself that we were only a few steps from the top and that we would be there before w
e knew it. But each time, I was disappointed to come across yet another recessed window. I grew so disconsolate that I couldn’t bring myself to look out at the countryside. I didn’t care what was happening in the rest of the country, I just wanted this to be over.

  And then we were there. I’d got so used to the steady rhythm of climbing that when we finally staggered out onto level ground, I was quite unprepared for the airiness of the space in which we found ourselves. From the ground, this section of the tower appeared to be slim, almost slender but, up here, my first impression was quite different. The room seemed enormous and I could only just make out the curve of the wall on the far side. The floor was a work of art in its own right, inlaid with a variety of woods and precious metals. I sank to my knees and marvelled at the whorls and designs which adorned it. I was in no doubt that the whole, when viewed from above, would make up some vast pattern but from my perspective, I could only guess at what that might be.

  “What are you doing?” Macrory hissed. “Get up.”

  “This floor. It’s beautiful.”

  “That’s nothing. Look up here. This is what we’ve come for.”

  I didn’t know what I was looking at initially. A huge, brass mechanism which reminded me of a badly lit art installation. A tracery of wires hung down, suspending a series of solid blocks at various heights from just above floor level to a height of about ten metres. Then, above that, bigger, more ponderous red granite blocks which appeared to be just hanging there. I imagined that this represented some kind of counter-balance system for the main clock mechanism above.

  “I can’t hear anything,” I said. “Could it just have stopped?”

  “No. This thing is powered by Old Magic. You’d have to destroy the tower completely to do that.”

  “What would happen then?”

  “No one really knows. Worst case scenario is that everything in Arcadia would be wiped out.”

  “Okay,” I said. “What about best case scenario?”

  “The seasons and the magical poles revert to their natural states. Order is restored.”

  “That sounds like it could be a good thing.”

  “For anyone who survives. No, our best bet is to try and re-start the clock.”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  “Well, if you look up you can see that some of those blocks are still moving.”

  I looked hard but I could see no sign of movement.

  “And is that significant?”

  “It suggests that part of the mechanism has been sabotaged in some way If we could free it up then we might be able to get the clock working again. Return everything to normal.”

  We were interrupted by the appearance of Silas and the queen who we had over-taken on the second level. The hem of her dress had been torn during her climb but the queen paid it no mind, just stood there staring straight up, totally enthralled by what she saw.

  “Magnificent, isn’t it?” she said, looking across at me.

  I didn’t know what to say so I merely nodded. But, if I’d hoped to break eye contact, I hadn’t succeeded. Aleena refused to look away.

  “Why is she looking at me like that?” I whispered under my breath.

  “Because you’re the one who bears the blade,” Macrory explained.

  “It’s quite simple,” Aleena said.

  She obviously could hear us then, even at this distance.

  She continued. “Whoever bears the blade bears the curse.”

  “There’s a curse?” I turned to Macrory. “No one said anything to me about a curse.”

  “It’s to ensure that no one wields it lightly,” he said. “Usually proves fatal. Which is why we’re all so surprised that you’re…”

  His hand swept me up and down.

  “Not dead?” I deadpanned. “So that’s the reason no one wants to touch it? Okay, I get it now.”

  “But there is a way of breaking the curse,” Macrory said.

  “Good,” I rolled my eyes. “You were starting to get me worried for a moment.”

  “You have to return the blade to its natural home. Which is…”

  He pointed straight up.

  “I see.”

  “And you want me to take it up there?”

  Macrory smiled thinly. “Not if you don’t want to.”

  Silas was pacing around the edge of the room. I couldn’t be certain, but he seemed greatly subdued, as if he had some inkling of what was to come.

  “But how do you know that returning Sigurdsil will re-start the clock? And what if me taking Ib Ure stops it again?”

  “Bringing the blades together again can only bring stability. And don’t worry about Ib Ure. The tower will only release it if it feels your claim is just.”

  So, no guarantees then.

  “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

  Macrory ushered me over to the queen.

  “Carry the blade before you,” she said. I could feel the unease coming off her. “The stones will block your path otherwise. And remember, the Dandelion Tower was not made for mortal man. It was designed to be used only by members of the Sidhe so, if you intend to survive this, listen carefully to what I have to say.”

  I opened my mouth as wide as possible, exercising my jaw, trying to concentrate.

  “Go on then,” I said, then quickly added, “Your majesty.”

  “The steps are all loosely connected, it might not look like that but they are. It should be possible to reach Ib Ure if only you can keep your nerve.”

  “Sounds simple enough.”

  The queen’s eyes flashed her annoyance. “It is far from simple. The blades are sentient. Were you aware of that? And all of them will be calling to you. So, you’ll need to be vigilant”

  She flinched slightly as I unwrapped Sigurdsil.

  She continued, “They’ll try to manipulate you. Don’t think that they can’t. They can be most insistent.”

  “Then I’ll do my best to ignore them.”

  Macrory went to say something but the queen warned him off.

  “They will try to unsettle you, trick you, confuse you. Anything to throw you off your chosen path and lead you to them. You must not deviate.”

  I looked down at the knife’s naked blade. They were both wary of it, even now.

  “Look, I understand about not getting distracted. But you haven’t told me the most important bit. How do I know which way to go? Which path to take?”

  “That’s the hard part,” Macrory inhaled, taking in a deep breath. “Keep going straight ahead unless you have no other option but then avoid taking the step to the left.”

  “So, you want me to take the step to the right?”

  “No. That’s not the same thing. Not the same thing at all.”

  He didn’t look at me then. He was keeping something back.

  “Oh,” I said. “And in the unlikely event that I get there: how will I know what Ib Ure looks like?”

  “You can’t know. That’s why it’s important to focus on why you want the knife. What do you want it for? Try to keep your mind clear otherwise you might end up with the wrong knife.”

  While I was still trying to make sense of this, the queen prompted him.

  “Don’t forget the other thing.”

  “Oh, yes. You must always go up, never down. And under no circumstances should you ever go back on yourself. Under no circumstances.”

  “Unless, of course, I’m coming down.”

  Macrory looked at the queen imploringly but then, when she refused to give her assent, shook his head in frustration.

  “No, not even then. You always have to be going up. Always!”

  From the way that he said it, I was aware that he was trying to give me some kind of clue. Some hint of what to expect, but it was completely lost on me.

  I didn’t want to climb the blocks. I wanted to lie down with my arms round Silas and forget about all this: the Sidhe, the magic, the impending war, my mother. But it wasn’t to be. I still had a job to do
. It wasn’t over yet.

  Macrory took me over to the lowest lying block. The queen stayed where she was.

  “Any last bits of advice,” I whispered without looking at him.

  “Don’t look down and try not to stab yourself.”

  Suddenly, there was a huge discordant sound from somewhere deep in the tower, like timbers cracking, and I felt the whole building tremble.

  “What was that?”

  “That was nothing,” he said but even as he was saying it, a low moaning noise was emanating from the staircase.

  “You had better hurry,” the queen said, loudly.

  “Okay,” Macrory took my arm. “Now remember: avoid the left and never frown. Always up and never down.”

  I laughed, despite myself. “That’s lovely! Did you just make that up?”

  “I’m not that talented. Now, repeat after me.”

  *

  I stepped carefully onto the higher step, swaying as I did so. They shifted slightly when you transferred your weight from one to the other. So far the steps had all been set an equal distance apart but I wasn’t sure how long that would continue. There was a randomness to their lay-out which I found intimidating.

  I’d had only had two moments when I’d had to make a choice between different steps. Each time, the decision had been fairly straightforward.

  Avoid the left and never frown,

  Always up and never down.

  I’d worked hard at staying focussed, resisting the urge to even look to my left. Macrory had said that they’d try and tempt me and I didn’t want to give them the opportunity of doing so. I was feeling fragile enough as it was.

  He’d also told me not to look down but that had been impossible. At one point, I’d glimpsed Silas moving across the floor and had made the mistake of looking at him. I was suddenly made very aware of the enormous volume of empty space below me and had almost bitten my tongue in half in my eagerness to look up.

  I’d started to sweat from very early on. The room itself was quite cool but I was sweating profusely after only a couple of minutes. I could feel my clothes clinging to my back and I had to keep swapping the knife over so that I could wipe the free hand against my clothes.