The Power of Seven
Page 26
“Neither do I, but first we must hope that we can protect this universe.”
“So my love, how do we get Mairwen to come with us to the desert?”
“I think she’ll come if she thinks she has a chance of getting hold of the starstone. We must get everything ready in secret and then draw her to us.”
Cari burst through the door followed by Cynhaearn and Heulfryn, the young cludydd o aur.
“You have a way of fighting the Malevolence?” Cynhaearn was barely through the door and breathless from his climb from the mine but he launched into his query.
“I hope so,” September replied, “but we need your help. We need help from all the cludyddau.”
“The others are on their way,” Cari said, “Isfoel is still in the mines, but he won’t be long.”
“Cari told us that you need our metals,” Heulfryn said, “here is mine.” He held out a gold amulet, the twin of one that he wore on his right arm. It was covered with symbols of the Sun. September realised that she already had her hands full with the starstone in one and the flask of Alkahest in the other. Breuddwyd took the amulet from the young man.
“We will need something to collect all the metals in,” she said.
“I know what you need,” Cynhaearn said, rushing out again.
“Here is mine,” Cari said, holding out a bracelet of thick copper wire. Breuddwyd took it from her.
The door opened again and Cynwal and Ariannell entered. They held out objects of lead and silver, which Breuddwyd gathered. Then Cynhaearn crashed in carrying a small black cauldron.
“Here,” he gasped through panting breaths, “You can carry all the metals in this and it will be my gift of haearn.”
“Thank you,” September said. Breuddwyd dropped the gold, copper, silver and lead in the pot.
“I’m not sure this will be what we need,” Breuddwyd said, “If all the metals have to be melted and mixed before the Alkahest is added, the pot will itself melt and leak.”
Cynhaearn looked dejected, his broad shoulders slumped.
“How stupid am I?” he said, “You need a material that can take all the metals and stand up to the heat of melting.”
“What can withstand such heat that even iron will turn to liquid?” Cari said shaking her head.
September wondered why they were all puzzled. Surely the people of the Land had materials that could stand such temperatures. Then she recalled that glass was not used in the Land, that buildings were made from wood, reeds, stone or baked mud. They wielded the seven metals but apparently had not discovered the qualities of clay.
Cynwal spoke, “Only the rock in the depths of Daear can withstand such heat, the stone we used to build Mwyngloddiau Dwfn.” The town was built from the hard dark rock through which the miners tunnelled. The others agreed that the rock could indeed stand up to great heat. Cynwal turned towards the door, “I shall find a piece,” he said, “that has been fashioned into a bowl.” He departed just as Ilar returned with the old, wiry bearer of mercury.
“Here is alcam,” Ilar said, passing over a folded sheet of the silver-grey metal.
“And Arian byw,” Isfoel added, handing to Breuddwyd a small vial made of dark, polished wood
“It is like what Eluned gave me,” September observed, feeling a sadness and regret that surprised her, “I left it at the Arsyllfa when I no longer needed it to transform.”
“That is all the metals,” Breuddwyd said, “Thank you, all of you.”
“But you won’t be needing a heavy old pot,” Cynhaearn said, “Not when Cynwal brings the bowl of stone.” He reached to his belt and drew out a short iron dagger. It was undecorated but its blade was a highly polished blue-grey “You must have this as your piece of haearn.”
Aurddolen rejoined the company, his face white and drawn.
“Ah, you are all here,” he said in a soft, sad voice. Ariannell went to his side and placed a hand gently on his arm.
“We feel your loss, Mordeyrn,” she said, “We all know of your love for your daughter. Her death pains us all, but at least she is now free of the Malevolence.”
“But is she?” Aurddolen looked at Ariannell with deep lines of anguish in his face, “She died in the power of Malice. I don’t know whether her spirit has returned to the centre of Daear to be reborn or has joined the hate-filled ranks of the evil.”
“Let us have hope,” Ariannell insisted. Aurddolen took a deep breath and seemed to draw strength from Ariannell’s grip. September knew she was passing her healing compassion into him. He drew himself up to his full height and seemed to shed a number of years. He looked at September.
“You have all that you need?”
September looked at the small heap of various shapes and colours of metal in the pot at Breuddwyd’s feet.
“Yes,” September replied, “We have all seven metals. Cynwal has gone to find a bowl that they can be melted in.” A thought came into her head, something that she hadn’t considered. “But how will we heat it? Will we have to build a furnace like you have in your workshops and carry wood to burn?”
“You have no need of fuels and fire,” Aurddolen said, “You control the power of Haul. That is power enough to melt the mountains if necessary.”
“Oh, yes, the energy of the Sun,” September said sheepishly, having forgotten the powers that she had at her disposal.
“And that in turn will give you the hope that your experiment will be successful,” Aurddolen went on, “Our hopes rest with you as I fear we have little time left.”
“That is my fear too,” Isfoel said, “The manifestations of earth are reducing the rock at the town’s foundations to dust. The protective sphere will not prevent us sinking into the heart of Daear.”
“The manifestations of fire, air and water crowd around the town biting into our defences,” Aurddolen added, “Soon it will dissolve and we will be lost.”
Cynwal staggered through the door bearing a lump of black rock. He placed it at September’s feet. It was a seven sided bowl, carved and polished so that the surface shone. Tiny crystals in the rock glinted and sparkled. September thought it looked beautiful.
“Where did you find it?” she asked.
“It is used as a bowl for washing hands in the Meeting Hall,” Cynwal said, “It was made by one of the miners long ago. Will it do?”
“I am sure it will,” Breuddwyd said, bending to place the seven metal items into it. She placed her hands under the broad rim and, with an effort that tensed the muscles in her arm, heaved it up.
“Thank you, all,” September said, “Now we must go to the desert and make our preparations to end Malice’s power.”
“You must hide yourself from the Malevolence,” Aurddolen warned, “or else your plan will be discovered.”
“Of course,” September said, again feeling foolish. She raised the Maengolauseren above her head and moved it in a circle thinking the now familiar mantra of sadness and joy. Ribbons of silver grey wound around her and her mother, enveloping them in the protective and concealing metals.
She looked to Breuddwyd, wrapping her hand that grasped the flask around her arm.
“Take us to Diffaithmawr, Mother,” she said, raising her starstone above her head.
“Farewell,” Aurddolen called, and the others added their best wishes as golden light swirled around September and Breuddwyd, obscuring the cludyddau from view.
21
They stood on a plain of glass. The air shimmered in the heat of the Sun shining from its zenith. The pale beige surface stretched in every direction reflecting the cloudless blue sky. September looked all around her, astounded by the desolation.
“Was it like this when you were here before?” she asked.
Breuddwyd bent to place the black bowl on the hard surface.
“No, it was desert covered in sand. There were dunes.”
“It’s like a nuclear bombsite. The sand has been melted.” September knelt to place the flask beside the bowl and then slid he
r hand over the vitreous surface.
“I suppose it was. Of course I wasn’t here when it was all over so I didn’t see what had happened,” Breuddwyd said, looking thoughtful, “The Malevolence was starting to descend from the black sky. I lifted the Maengolauseren and commanded it to go. There was a blast of light and that was it. I was back home.”
“You completed your task. The power of the starstone threw the spirits of the Malevolence back beyond the stars. You cleared Daear of manifestations. Your job was done.” September felt weighed down by the knowledge that was what she had failed to do on the night of the Conjunction. Now she had to make this second chance work.
“I didn’t have Mairwen to oppose me,” Breuddwyd said, placing an arm around September’s shoulder, “Now I have met her I understand how difficult your task has been.”
Her mother’s words cheered September.
“Well, let’s hope this plan works and that Malice and all the Malevolence are thrown off this planet. Do you think she’ll come?”
“I am sure of it. The bond between you twins is strong despite your separation and your different lives.” Breuddwyd was thoughtful. “Her hate is powerful and consumes her but she is also envious of you and covets the starstone. Now that we are out of the shield that you erected she will soon come after you. I think it would be better if you went to her and led her here rather than waiting for her to turn up.”
September could feel spirits of evil around them, not as many as in the north but growing in number as the Malevolence spread over the whole Earth. She looked again at the barren wasteland.
“You’re right. There was nothing here for the Malevolence until we arrived, but we will attract them - these thin ribbons of lead and tin will not hide us for long.”
“Take care my love. Mairwen is strong.”
“I know.” September raised the stone above her head and thought of the valley below the Arsyllfa. Light enveloped her.
She was there, standing on the grass at the base of the pinnacle of rock that bore the observatory. The last time she had stood here had been with Sieffre shortly after his escape from Malice’s attack. Spirits swarmed around her, unseen, but their hate battered against her and aggravated the pain in her birthmark. The spirits flocked down the valley and around the outcrop but they seemed to avoid the summit and the Arsyllfa itself, like the hole at the centre of the vortex of water flowing down a plughole. Perhaps Malice keeps some space around her, September wondered.
She transformed into her eagle and leapt into the sky. Her wings beat at the air and she surged into the heights above the ruined observatory. She looked down and saw Malice standing on the cracked paving of the rooftop from which the astronomers had followed the movement of the planets. Malice was staring up at her.
September circled down and as her feet touched the marble she transformed into the panther.
“You’ve returned then,” Malice said in a matter of fact tone, “I thought I had flung you out of this universe for good.”
“You flung me nowhere,” September growled, stalking her twin, watching her warily, “The Maengolauseren protected me. It took me back home. Home to our world. Home to Mother, our mother.”
“The Maengolauseren,” Malice said repeating her words almost absentmindedly, but September sensed her desire for the starstone.
“Yes, the stone that gives me power over all the elements of this universe.”
“It’s just a pebble. I have all the power I need from the Malevolence.”
“Do you? You thought you had defeated me but now you can see that you did not.”
“But you failed your task. The Malevolence possesses this world now and all that are in it will die.”
“Are you sure of that? While Mother and I are here, each with our pieces of the starstone, you suspect we could overpower you.” September’s careful goading was having success. She saw Malice’s face turn a shade of red that resembled the planet Mars. September returned to her human shape and thrust out the stone in front of her. It glowed a bright violet.
“No, I have the power,” Malice screeched, “The Maengolauseren shall be mine and I shall rule this universe for the Malevolence.” Malice reached for the stone with a hand and a shaft of black light.
September fended off the beam of darkness with a twitch of the stone. Its light grew brighter.
“You’ll have to defeat me to get the starstone,” September taunted, and went.
She stood on a beach. There was dry, loose sand beneath her feet, grass-topped dunes behind her, breaking rollers in front of her. The beach extended north and south as far as the eye could see. She’d been here just once before when the people of the eastern coast had needed her help. Now there was no sign of anyone, just the ever-present cries of the spirits that filled the overcast brown sky. She transformed into the iridescent blue cobra and slithered through the sand. She knew that Malice would not be long in following her.
“You can’t get away,” Malice cried, appearing in front of her, “I can feel you, you know.”
September became herself and stepped towards Malice, stopping just out of arms’s reach.
“I know. It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“We don’t have to be enemies. We are sisters. Mother still loves you, she loves both of us.”
Malice looked mystified.
“I don’t understand your words. I have no mother.”
“She gave birth to you.”
“I was born in darkness, alone; alone among the spirits of the Malevolence.”
“Your body was without life. Mother would have cared for you if you had lived. She would have fed you like she fed me.”
“I was fed by the hate of the spirits. They gave me power. Now I control them.”
“We can give you more; love, peace, happiness.”
“I do not understand those words. They mean nothing to me so I have no need of them. The Maengolauseren is all that you have that I want. Give it to me.” Again she reached out her hand, grasping and firing a blast of coal-black darkness at September. The force of it made September stagger back, but she recovered her footing, held her ground and opposed the light-devouring beam with her own violet light.
“No, I shall not,” September screamed into the maelstrom of clashing light and dark. Malice’s force was indeed stronger than hers. She could feel her wall of shimmering light being forced backwards. She moved.
She was standing among the ruins of Amaethaderyn. Around her the dust of mud walls and splinters of thatch swirled in little eddies. At the edge of the dried out lake, the reeds lay flat and desiccated. Dry soil blew off the bare allotments and the trees at the edge of the forest were grey and dead. Were the people still huddling under their shelter among the trees, September wondered? Was it really just a few hours since she had been with them?
“I told you. You can’t escape,” Malice bellowed, appearing in front of her, leering and renewing her onslaught of jet-black power.
September fended off the energies of hate and fired one or two blasts of her own at her sister, but she was driven back step-by-step.
“You will not win,” she shouted at her twin.
“And you cannot keep running away,” Malice replied, “Soon every spirit on this world will be of the Malevolence. You will have nothing left to fight for and I will have the Maengolauseren.”
“No!” September screamed, launching a lightning bolt at Malice. It guttered uselessly and Malice answered it with her own shadow beam. September was battered to the ground. She held the starstone above her, defending herself. Was now the time? Was Mother ready with the bowl of metals and the Alkahest?
“You will be no more and all of this Universe will be mine,” Malice roared, stepping forward to stand over September binding her with fingers of ebony. She reached down to grasp the starstone from September’s hand.
September moved.
22
September sprawled on the glazed gr
ound, the black stone bowl beside her and Breuddwyd standing over her.
“She’ll be here. We must melt the metals,” September cried, scrambling to her feet.
“It’s alright love, I have hope.” Breuddwyd held her half of the stone over the bowl. Brilliant yellow light, the colour and intensity of the Sun, shone on the heap of metals. Instantly the wooden vial containing the mercury disappeared in a puff of smoke and the silver droplets trickled into the bowl. The sheets of tin and lead, the copper bracelet, golden amulet, silver brooch, and lastly the iron dagger, softened, slumped and melted into liquid. The fluids swirled together mixing and merging into one. September grasped the flask of the Alkahest and pulled out the stopper.
Malice appeared on the opposite side of the bowl from Breuddwyd’s beam of energy. She advanced towards September then stopped as if noticing where she was and what Breuddwyd was doing.
“I know this place,” she said, a note of uncertainty in her voice.
“So you should if you and the Malevolence are one,” September called.
“Why?” Malice asked.
“This was where I faced the Malevolence at the last Conjunction,” Breuddwyd said, still focussing the beam of sunlight on the bowl. The liquid metals churned and glowed red-hot.
“The last time that the Maengolauseren defeated the Malevolence,” September taunted.
“It will be the last time,” Malice sneered, “Now the starstone will be mine.”
Malice stepped forward then stopped and looked at the bowl.
“What are you doing?”
“Cooking up something for you,” September said, indicating to her mother to move away. Breuddwyd’s beam of fire cut out and she stepped back. September stood up holding both the starstone and the flask directly over the bowl of glowing, molten metals.
Malice moved forward; now she was just a pace from September. September dropped her stone. It sank into the mixture and disappeared into the liquid. The surface boiled and violet vapours rose from it.