The Power of Seven

by Peter R. Ellis

  “You must help the others,” Aurddolen insisted.

  September stood up and pushed forward through the struggling bodies to get a better view of the skirmish. She saw that the cavern was roughly rectangular, about five metres in width. The miners forming a line across the chamber waved short swords and poked spears at the manifestations pressing forward towards them. Most of the attackers were pale, thin creatures, the size of children but with lined, ugly faces and long, straight, white hair. They resembled the figures of elves and fairies that September recalled from picture books but these were not kind, benevolent creatures. They shrank from the scything cuts of the iron blades of the miners, but at every opportunity advanced on their spindly legs and spat at their opponents. Wherever their saliva landed it hissed and burned and gave off wispy fumes. The Tylwyth teg crammed the cavern and the tunnel beyond but amongst them and particularly at the edges were other creatures. The Coblynau were stockier and dark but barely taller, with round, whiskered faces. It was their hands that drew September’s attention. They were broad with long fingers that ended in claws. Some ripped at the rock of the walls of the chamber and flung the rough pebbles at the defenders. Others groped forward clawing at the bodies of the miners. September glanced up and saw Coblynau clinging to the ceiling and gouging out great shards of rock to drop on the people below.

  September took in the scene, lit by lamps of starstone, in a moment. The miners were hard-pressed, forced back shoulder-to-shoulder with little space to swing their weapons. Some, she saw, lay fallen, writhing or still. At the centre was Cynhaearn, roaring defiance and thrusting his sword. Beside him was a giant black rat that tore at the Tylwyth teg and Coblynau with its own claws and long teeth. In places the rat’s fur was burned by drops of the acidic spit and was bleeding from scratches made by the Coblynau.

  September had seen enough. Despite the heroic efforts of the defenders, she feared that their time was running out. She had no idea what effect the explosive power of the starstone would have in the confined space of the mine; nevertheless she raised her hand.

  “Be gone!” she commanded. The familiar blue beam shot from the stone, widening to fill the width and height of the cavern. The light dazzled her, and she saw the miners raising their arms to cover their own eyes. In a moment the blue light filled the mine and the tunnels into it and the Tylwyth Teg and Coblynau were transformed into clouds of fine powder. Dust devils curled in the air, settling to the rock-strewn floor. The noise was replaced for a moment by silence then the cheering began.

  The miners turned to face her, clustering around her, shouting out their thanks and admiration. September pushed through them to find the fallen. As many as half of the miners lay on the ground. Some were silent and motionless but others writhed and moaned. September held the starstone over their acid burns and gouged flesh and emptied her mind of everything but compassion. One by one the injured men were calmed.

  “We can look after them now, Cludydd,” Cynhaearn said, kneeling beside her, “Thank you. I don’t think the powers of Aurddolen or Isfoel or my own could have prevailed against such a force of Tylwyth teg and Coblynau.”

  “Your arrival was timely, Cludydd.” The speaker was a small, wiry old man. He was naked but covered in hair and rock dust. His face was hidden behind long grey whiskers which were flecked with blood.

  “You must be Isfoel,” September said, deducing the identity of the mercury bearer from his appearance.

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Cludydd,” he responded with a slight nod of his head.

  “You were a rat but I was told you often take the form of a bat.”

  “That is true, lady. A bat can flit through the tunnels easily but the form of a rat is better for fighting.”

  “I can see that, but you are injured.” Blood dripped from burns and cuts all over his body.

  “Just a few scratches and acid drops,” Isfoel said.

  “Let me heal them.” September passed the starstone across Isfoel’s face and body. The burns and cuts disappeared.

  “Thank you, Cludydd. You display a great deal of skill.”

  Aurddolen appeared at September’s side.

  “We should return to the surface and leave the miners to their tasks,” he said. Isfoel agreed and led them along the tunnels, dark except for faint pools of light around the widely spaced splinters of starstone. Neither heat nor cold affected September anymore but she was amazed at the high temperature in the mine. The miners worked stripped to the waist, hammering spikes into the rock face to shatter the stone. September commented on the contrast with the cold at the surface.

  “This is the deepest mine,” Aurddolen explained, “two thousand arm-reaches below the surface. The temperature rises the deeper you dig. Some say there is a fire at the centre of Daear that will burn for eternity. The metals are born as liquids which run through the cracks in the rocks.”

  They reached a vertical shaft with a basket hanging from a rope. It reminded September of the lift that had carried her up the cliff between the two towns beside the waterfall. Isfoel held the side of the basket and helped Aurddolen and September into it.

  “Aren’t you coming with us?” September asked.

  “No, Cludydd. I will resume my patrol of the tunnels but I hope your assistance will not be needed again.” He transformed into a bat and fluttered off down the tunnel. The basket jerked and began to rise.

  “It will take some time to reach the surface,” Aurddolen said, “A chance to talk perhaps.”

  “Yes.”

  “Your symudiad astounded me. I did not think it was possible to control that aspect of the Maengolauseren.”

  “I’m not sure how much control I have. I just pointed the stone at the Sun and hoped.”

  “It is just another indicator of how well you and the starstone respond to each other.”

  “Perhaps. I hope I can do it again. Anything that can enable me to reach people faster will help.”

  “You have seemed rather despondent when we have talked, Cludydd.”

  “Yes. Every day I see the results of the attacks by the Malevolence – more dead, more destruction – and that’s at the places where I arrive in time to help. There are other places being attacked which I can’t get to until the people have suffered a lot worse.”

  “I know how it seems, September. The Malevolence grows stronger and will do so right up to the Cysylltiad. The people know what is happening and are doing their best. Everything that you do helps them and gives them hope.”

  “But why does the Malevolence get stronger? I have destroyed thousands of manifestations.” There were tears in September’s eyes and a lump of misery in her chest.

  “That is true but the spirits that inhabit the manifestations cannot be destroyed, they are merely flung back to their realm above the stars joined by the spirits of those they have killed and those who have turned to evil. The Conjunction is not far off and already the planets are beginning to line up. Iau and Sadwrn have already disappeared in the radiance of Haul and the other planets approach it. The shielding influence of the planets is weakened and more of the spirits can descend from the dark reaches of space.”

  “So there is nothing we can do.”

  “We are doing all we can for now. The people must hold out – and they will.”

  “And at the Conjunction – what happens then?”

  “That is the moment when Daear is most exposed and the spirits of the Malevolence have their opportunity to descend in their greatest numbers, but you will be at the focus of their influx and you, with the power of the Maengolauseren and all the planets combined, will repulse them.”

  “Except there is the matter of my twin.”

  “Ah yes. You have not seen her?”

  “No, but I’m sure she is in charge and sending me here and there to deal with incidents she has planned. She won’t face me until she has the full power of the Malevolence to back her up.”

  “You will prevail, Cludydd. I know you
will and soon we will have enough aur to cast my new symbol of power. Then I will stand beside you.”

  “Why don’t the Cemegwr help?”

  September felt the Mordeyrn’s body stiffen.

  “Why do you speak again of them?”

  “Well, if they are the creators of this universe perhaps they have an interest in what goes on in it.”

  “No, that is nonsense. There are no such creatures. Whoever the creators of the world were, there has been no evidence for their existence since time began other than the silly stories people tell to make sense of what they see.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I am. Do not anticipate help from these imaginary beings. You are our salvation, Cludydd. You alone have the power to overcome the Malevolence – and your sister.”

  A draught of cold air signalled that they were approaching the surface. A spot of grey sunlight appeared above them, which grew until it was the size of the shaft. The basket slowed and stopped when it was level with the ground and hands grabbed it. September saw that the rope bearing the basket had wound around a great iron wheel connected to a huge heavy beam that rocked on a pivot. Clouds of steam emerged from below the contraption.

  “Is it a steam engine?” September asked.

  “A machine, driven by steam that is heated by the power of aur.” Aurddolen seemed to confirm her suggestion. He stepped out of the basket and held out his hand to help September. “I am sure other communities await you, Cludydd, but please come and see my daughter.” He guided her into the crowd of miners that parted to let them through. The dark skinned men gazed at her dazzling blue appearance in wonder.

  Aurddolen clutched his arms around himself. It was late autumn and high in the mountains it was already cold enough for a thick layer of snow to be lying on the ground. The grey shield overhead also reduced the amount of sunlight warming the town. Aurddolen took long swift strides down the street from the mining sector of the town to the living quarters. September kept pace with him.

  “How is Heulwen?”

  “Little changed.”

  A few minutes’ walk brought them to Aurddolen’s residence. Heulwen was in the same room as she had been on September’s previous visit. She sat upright on a chair, her eyes open but unseeing.

  “Hello, Heulwen,” September said. There was no response. Heulwen’s eyes continued to stare vacantly ahead. September bent to look closely into Heulwen’s face, but she did not flinch or avert her gaze.

  “She eats and drinks, sleeps and walks but still shows no consciousness,” Aurddolen said.

  “Do you think Malice is still linked to her?”

  “There has been no evidence of that but I fear that if called upon then she would do your sister’s bidding. Hence the door to this room is kept locked when my daughter is alone.”

  “I’m sorry, Aurddolen. I can’t think of anything we can do for her.”

  “Neither can I.” He fell silent.

  “Is there anything else?”

  The Mordeyrn looked thoughtful. “There is. As we expected, the shield over the town has acted as a beacon to the Malevolence. Manifestations are drawn to it.”

  “They can’t get in.”

  “No. Everyone inside is safe, but as you have seen, in the deep mines, beyond the safety of the sphere, we are beset by manifestations of the earth. More seriously the manifestations that besiege the town are interfering with supplies. Mwyngloddiau Dwfn and other mining settlements are unusual in the Land in that they cannot produce their own food. They rely on other communities to supply them in return for metals.”

  “I see. What is happening?”

  “We are running out of food. People are starting to go hungry. No supply caravan has been able to get past the manifestations this month. They are attacked when they approach the town.”

  “I haven’t been aware of these attacks.”

  “No, Cludydd. You have been answering much more important calls for help, but the townspeople are becoming worried and do not know how they will be fed.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Cari is in communication with the cludydd o efyddyn of the nearest settlement in the forest, from which most of the supplies come. We are planning a large caravan which will bring enough food to last us until the Conjunction is past. It will be escorted by warriors and a number of cludyddau, but your help will also be very useful.”

  “I’ll be ready,” September agreed, “just call me when you need me.”

  “Thank you, Cludydd. I knew you would help us despite all the demands on you. But now I have detained you long enough. Thank you again for saving us today.”

  “It seems to be all I can do at the moment,” she replied putting a hand to her head, “I am feeling a call for help. I will try to – what did you call it?”

  “Symudiad.”

  Aurddolen led her to the narrow space between the buildings. The Sun was not visible in the small patch of sky between the tall walls but nevertheless September raised the starstone and looked through it. She held in her mind the picture she was getting from the people who were appealing for her help.

  “Take me – there,” she muttered.

  Golden light poured from the starstone, spinning around her like a whirlwind, dazzling her eyes and obscuring Aurddolen and the dark rock. Her feet no longer rested on the hard cobbles of the town’s streets.

  September returned to her unending chore of defending the people of Gwlad. Now at least, her transport by symudiad was instantaneous on receiving an appeal for help. Each migration was unsettling – the dazzling light, the change of footing, the sudden immersion in a battle against various forms of manifestation or hordes of maddened people driven to evil. She quickly learnt to close her eyes at the moment of displacement and to be ready for action as soon as the light cleared. At first the people were astounded by her sudden appearance but they appreciated her immediate response to whatever was attacking them. The number of casualties and the damage caused by each incident was reduced but as the days went by there were more of them and the size of the force of manifestations increased.

  Each hour passed with September relocating from one part of Gwlad to another. She no longer knew where she was as she responded to the appeals in her head and barely had time to notice whether the community was in the hills or by the coast, under trees or on open plains. The different locations flickered past her eyes almost unseen.

  She found herself in a familiar setting. Around her there were low, round, thatched buildings surrounded by trees. She recognised some of the faces that clustered around her thanking her for destroying a swarm of Adarllwchgwin.

  “Berddig, Iorwerth!” she cried, “It’s you.”

  “Welcome back to Amaethaderyn,” the young, jovial bearer of tin said.

  “We are delighted to see you again, Cludydd,” the warrior agreed.

  September looked at them closely. They looked tired and worn. Iorwerth in particular displayed scars and fresh wounds on his arms and face. The other people around them were thin and their clothes were battered and torn. She looked at the buildings. While there were some that were new, many were damaged.

  “This was not the first time you have been attacked since I left,” September said.

  “No, it was not but it was the largest group of manifestations we have faced. We have managed to deal with the others ourselves,” Berddig said, “but on this occasion we needed your help.”

  “I can see you have had a difficult time.”

  “Life is hard under the threat of the Malevolence. Growing crops, looking after the animals, fishing, all have been disrupted by the attacks. Our food stocks are low and sometimes we are hungry, but we survive.”

  “Come with us. There are others that will wish to meet you again,” Iorwerth said.

  For the moment there were no cries for help in September’s head. She followed Iorwerth and Berddig between the round mud huts until they came to the village meeting area. The space now had a canopy of reed
s and was laid out as a treatment centre. A dozen or more men, women and children lay on bed mats and walking between them was the silver-haired figure of Arianwen. She looked up as September and her attendants arrived and smiled warmly.

  “Cludydd, you have returned to us.”

  “And driven off the Malevolence, for now,” Iorwerth said.

  “Hello, Arianwen.” September drew the older woman into an embrace. Arianwen held back at first, confused by September’s gleaming but insubstantial dress, but then hugged her.

  “We have heard so much about you,” Arianwen said as they parted, “the great deeds you have performed, the powers and skills that you possess. It is wonderful to see you again after all these weeks.”

  September lowered her head modestly.

  “It’s true that I’ve learnt how to do some things, but I don’t know about great deeds. The Malevolence still grows stronger and people are still dying just as they’ve done ever since I arrived here.” A picture of Tudfwlch appeared in her mind and a tear rolled down her cheek. Another image came to her; the prone figure of Eluned. “What about Eluned? Is she alright?”

  “Oh yes,” Arianwen nodded just as the white tiger bounded into the clearing and transformed into the naked bearer of mercury.

  “September!” she cried, “You’re here.” They too embraced.

  “You look OK,” September said, stepping back to look at the young woman.

  “I’m fine. Arianwen healed me.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “But you! You’re magnificent. I knew you would come into your powers.”

  “Thanks, but there is still the Conjunction to face.”

  “You will defeat the Malevolence,” Eluned said forcefully and the others nodded and agreed.

  “What about Catrin and Padarn?” September asked, “Where are they?”

  “They are here,” Berddig said, “Catrin is communicating with our neighbours. She keeps in touch as much as she can.”

  “Padarn is resting,” Arianwen said and September detected a sad note in her voice, “he is tired. He uses so much power to shield us from the Malevolence that he is weakened. We hope he will make it to the Cysylltiad.”