by Che Golden
“Will it hurt?” Maddy heard herself asking, her voice low and muffled in a suddenly silent world.
“No, child,” said the horse. “It will be as easy as falling asleep.”
“I’m ready,” she whispered, reaching out a hand. The water horse sidled closer, rubbing its slimy mane against her open palm. Part of her brain registered how cold, how wet, how dead the flesh of the water horse felt, as it got to its knees and allowed her to slide a leg over its back until she was sitting astride. But she felt no revulsion, no desire to cringe away from its touch. She felt calm, as if she were floating. It all feels so right, she thought, as the weeds of the horse’s mane waved in the air and wrapped themselves tight around her fingers and wrists. This is the only way.
Dimly she was aware of Danny and Roisin running alongside her as the horse began to trot to the water’s edge, George barking furiously somewhere.
“Maddy, what are you saying? Get down!” cried Roisin, as she desperately pulled at Maddy’s clothes.
“I said, ‘It can’t hurt,’” said Maddy as the horse began to canter.
“No!” screamed Roisin. “That’s not what you said! Please, Maddy . . .” Her voice broke into a sob as the horse began to leave her and Danny behind and canter into the icy waters, his mate following close behind. “Get down from his back! GET DOWN FROM HIS BACK!”
“It will be fine, Ro,” murmured Maddy, clinging tighter to the water horse’s back with her thighs and knees as Danny and Roisin tried to grab her. Spray splashed her face as the animal galloped through the shallows, out into the heart of the lake. The water rose higher and soaked her jeans, then her jacket. Part of her noticed that the water was bitterly cold, but she felt disconnected from her body. The horse turned to look at her, an evil glint in its eye, and smiled, showing the cool curve of its fangs. She smiled back as Danny’s and Roisin’s shouts were left behind her and the water horse plunged beneath the waves, the water snapping close over her head, cutting off all sounds from the shore.
It was peaceful in the lake. I can rest, thought Maddy. I just need to rest. It’s all too hard. The water horse curved its neck and took her deeper, its mate swimming alongside them, its back legs transformed into a long fish-scaled tail. Much better, thought Maddy. Can’t go swimming about with four legs.
She looked up at the surface, so far above her head. The horse’s muscles rippled beneath her, its mane streaming back into her face as the world got darker. Her chest was hurting now, real pain that was eclipsing the talon marks on her back. I’ll have to breathe out, she thought dreamily.
She pondered the problem for a moment as the pain built and stars bloomed in the corner of her eyes. And then something bit her leg.
Maddy panicked and cried out, as she watched the last of her breath escape to the surface in mercury bubbles. The lake poured into her mouth, and her hair floated around her face, blinding her. She thrashed about as the water horse bucked beneath her, her hands caught fast in its weedy mane.
The water boiled around her as dark shapes scudded through the gloom. For the first time since getting on the horse’s back, Maddy felt real terror, and it woke her up in a way the icy water had not. She could not see the surface anymore, and however much she pulled and pulled, she couldn’t free her hands. She opened her mouth to scream, and more water poured into her lungs. Her vision turned dark as huge black shapes writhed through a mass of bubbles, tormenting the horse, who snapped and lunged in every direction. Just as she thought she was going to black out, Maddy felt a tugging at her wrists and then strong arms about her as she shot to the surface.
Her head broke through, and she drew in a ragged breath, crystal clear air flooding her chest painfully. The night sky spun around her head as she coughed and spluttered, throwing up lake water as her rescuer sliced easily toward the shore with one arm.
Her feet scraped shingle, and she staggered on rubbery legs, stumbling through the waves and ice to collapse on the rocks. She gasped as a huge shape loomed over, blotting out the sky.
“Stupid child!” it hissed. “Next time you want to die, don’t do it in our waters.”
Maddy sat up and stared as the shape turned away and called a wordless cry across the lake. It was a man, tall and broad-shouldered. He had long hair that hung in tangles around his face and shoulders, a fur cloak was wrapped tight around him, and lake water ran off him in rivulets. He stared out across the water, and Maddy followed his gaze. There, on an ice floe, were Roisin and Danny, George tucked away in Roisin’s jacket, just his little head sticking out under her chin. George’s eyes stood out on stalks as he stared at what was pushing them. Seals, dozens of them, were nudging the floe forward with their blunt heads, pushing it toward the shore.
As soon they reached the shore, the man turned to look at her again, and Maddy cringed, even as her body shook with cold. The face was hard and wild—there seemed to be no human emotion in it. His eyes were huge and velvety brown, and his teeth were sharp and hard against his lips. He turned away from her and ran to the water, falling to his knees and wrapping the fur cloak tight around himself. Then he seemed to roll into the water and disappear beneath it. She stared and stared, waiting to see his head break the surface, but when it did, it was a seal’s sleek, whiskered face that appeared among the bobbing ice. It dived, and its broad tail slapped the water as it dropped from sight. She held her breath to see the strange seal man again, but the surface of the lake was as empty as the moon.
“Who was that?” she croaked, as Danny and Roisin scrambled up the beach toward her. They fell to their knees and hugged her, Roisin crying on her shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“Selkies, seal people,” said Danny. “Almost as soon as you went under, they appeared in the water and asked us what happened. When we told them what you said, and that we were trying to get to the White Tower, they offered to help.”
“I thought no one could help us,” said Maddy through chattering teeth.
“That’s the thing,” said Danny, grinning. “Letting Fionn help us means the contract’s broken so anyone can offer to help us, and I don’t think the selkies like Liadan much. We didn’t swear another oath.” His face darkened. “Of course, that can work against us as well, I think. It’s a bit confusing.”
“Never mind that, what did you think you were doing?” snapped Roisin at Maddy.
“What?” asked Maddy, puzzled.
“Those water horses, they are dark faeries,” said Roisin. “They tempt people on to their backs to drown them. The selkies said that only people who want to die get on the back of a water horse,” said Roisin. “You were trying to kill yourself. Why would you do that?” Her eyes filled with tears again.
“I didn’t!” said Maddy. “I was just looking for a way to get across.”
“We heard you,” said Danny, his face set and angry. “You asked that thing if it would hurt.”
“Did I?” said Maddy, searching her memories. “I . . . I . . . don’t remember.” She looked back at Danny’s and Roisin’s frightened faces. “I really don’t!” George wriggled his front legs free of Roisin’s grip and leaned forward to lick Maddy’s icy skin. His warm, rough tongue practically burned her, she was so cold.
“Is that what you want?” asked Danny, his voice harsh. “Is that what you’re thinking about all the time at home? Is that why you act like you want everyone to hate you?”
Stunned, Maddy could only stare back at him. “I don’t think that way,” she said as her body started to judder with the cold, and her teeth chattered so hard she had to force each word out. “I don’t act like that.”
“Whatever. We’ve got to keep you moving,” said Roisin, as they pulled Maddy to her feet. Her body juddered and shuddered, and her clothes clung to her.
“Where are we?” asked Maddy.
“Turn around,” said Danny.
The lumpen caves were dark as midnight beneath the frilly fantasy of the upper reaches of the tower. There were no steps or doors carved anywhere
into the white rock. They had reached Liadan’s den.
“How are we supposed to get in?” asked Danny.
“Do you think we can go through the caves?” suggested Roisin, but her eyes were fearful.
“I don’t fancy just walking in there,” said Maddy. “Let’s take a look around before we do anything.”
“We need to get you warm somehow,” said Roisin.
“Let’s just walk for a few minutes—that will warm me up, and we can see what we can find out,” said Maddy.
Chapter Twenty
The twisting tower leaned over them, staggering against the moon. It blocked what little comfort there was from the silver rays, and the damp from the stones crept into their bones. A band of moonlight lit up a slice of shore that ran to meet the waves, but none of them suggested moving from under the oppressive shadow of the tower to walk by the whispering water. After everything they had seen today, Maddy didn’t trust the lake anymore. Who knew what was lurking beneath its surface?
They had not gone far when they heard the stamp and snort of horses from behind a pile of rocks that rose from the sand like the spine of a long-dead leviathan. Maddy froze, her eyes widening with fear. Were there more water horses waiting for her on the beach? She grabbed Roisin’s hand in terror. Roisin looked at her, the same fear in her eyes, and she held a finger to her lips.
“Tack,” she whispered. “I can hear tack.”
Maddy clenched her chattering teeth and listened hard. Sure enough, there was the clink and jingle of buckled leather as horses shifted their weight on the pebbles. Whatever horses these were, someone had managed to saddle and bridle them.
They all looked at each other as the same thought flashed across their mind. Elven mounts!
Danny stooped and swept George up into his arms, clamping a hand firmly down on the little terrier’s muzzle. Slowly they all crept over to the rocks, their bodies bent double, and peeped over the edge to the beach beyond.
There, standing out as sharp and vivid as an ink stain, was a team of six enormous black horses, harnessed to a silent black coach. Its wheels were rimmed in silver that flashed and winced in the moonlight, while its wooden body was polished to such a shine that Maddy could see her face in its sides as clearly as in a mirror. The coachman seemed to be asleep. His body was bent over in the driving seat, swathed in a heavy black cloak, his head lost to view, no doubt hidden by the high stiff black collar. The horses were restless, and every time they snorted, sparks and little jets of flame flew from their nostrils. Where they pawed the ground the earth was left blackened and steaming.
“Do you think it’s waiting for us?” asked Roisin, her whisper hoarse in the silence.
At the sound of her voice, the coachman’s body stiffened, and he turned in his seat to look at them. But where his head should have been, there was nothing. There was a rustle, and looking down they saw the coachman’s hands turning his head in his lap.
A hideous, idiotic grin split the pale face from ear to ear, and the small black eyes darted about like malignant flies. The head didn’t seem to have noticed them, but the body leaned toward them with dreadful intent. It raised its arm, and with stiffened black-gloved fingers, it tapped the side of the coach, twice, before pointing to the door. It then stayed absolutely motionless, still pointing at the door, as if frozen in time.
“Anyone heard any stories about this guy?” Danny asked. Maddy and Roisin shook their heads, panting with fear.
“I think he wants us to get in the coach,” said Maddy, terror making her squeak. Her body had forgotten even to shiver.
“No way!” said Danny, his eyes wide. “Unless we know and like how his story ends, I’m not going anywhere in that thing.”
“He’s not making a move toward us though,” said Maddy. “I think Liadan may have sent him. He’s waiting for us.”
Roisin let go of Danny and stood looking at the coach, her hands clenching and unclenching by her sides. Maddy heard her mutter, “Right!” under her breath, before she marched across the rocky beach to the coach and climbed in, leaving the door open behind her. The gloom inside the black coach swallowed her whole.
Maddy and Danny looked at each other and then at the coach. Maddy felt the tension build up in her chest as she realized she had stopped breathing and forced herself to take a deep breath, waiting for something to happen. But the coachman still sat there, still pointing at the door.
“I think he wants us all in there,” Danny said.
Roisin’s face reappeared from the gloom. “Are the two of you getting in or what?” she demanded. “I don’t think he’s leaving without you.”
“Roisin, what are you doing?” said Danny in a strangled voice.
She frowned at him. “Liadan isn’t going to try to kill us until after we get to the tower, so I reckon we’re safer with this guy than with anything else that might be wandering around out here,” she said, before pulling her head back in. Her words sounded brave, but her face was white.
Danny looked at Maddy in shock. Maddy shrugged just as Roisin yelled, “Come on, let’s get on with it!”
Stung into action, Maddy and Danny half ran to the coach. Danny stepped up to the door, but as Maddy pushed a reluctant George into the boxy interior, she paused to look up at the coachman, who up close seemed to be as enormous as his horses. His body and clothes were an indistinguishable black, but his pale, bald head glowed with a sickly green light. His eyes never stopped darting in their sockets. It was as if the head and body had nothing to do with each other. The smell of musty clothes and decay washed over her, and she suppressed a shudder as she put her foot on the carriage step and vaulted inside.
As soon as she was in the coach, the door was slammed shut by an invisible hand, and she was thrown back against the black velvet seat as the horses lurched forward into a gallop. She would have screamed with fear had she been able to take a breath, but the coach bowled along the shore with unnatural speed. They were all thrust back against the seat, and as the coach rattled along, Maddy felt her internal organs sloshing around inside her, bruising against her ribcage. Now I know why Hobbs called me a meat bag, she thought.
It didn’t seem possible, but the coach was gaining speed. Maddy could see that Danny and Roisin were pinned to the seat with their elbows and necks at odd angles, the flesh juddering on their faces. George rolled back against the foot of the coach seat, paws splayed on the floor and his lips peeling back from his teeth from the g-force. The wind screamed as the coach sliced through it.
With every muscle straining in her arms, Maddy let go of George’s leash and pushed against Danny to propel herself to the window in the door. Pressing her face to the glass she could see sparks flying off the wheels. The scenery outside blurred past, but she could see that they were climbing higher and higher, hugging a road along the tower walls as they rose. The hoofs of the horses thundered through the yowling wind, but from the coachman there was not a single sound.
Soon they stormed through a gateway in the tower. Massive, ornate copper gates reared up in their path, and just as it seemed the coach would crash into them, they flew open. On and on they raced, higher and higher, images of ruined houses and crumbling streets flashing past the window.
Suddenly the coach stopped, throwing the three children to the floor. George yowled and scrabbled out from under their groaning bodies. With shaking fingers Maddy pawed at the door handle and the four of them tumbled out on to stone steps, staggering from side to side as they tried to recover. Maddy felt as if every bone in her body had been shaken to powder, leaving her with floppy arms and legs.
She straightened up and tried to still her swimming vision. Dimly she heard the coach rumble away at a more sedate pace. As her surroundings sharpened into focus, she became aware of a white-clad figure picking its way down some stone steps in front of her. The steps rose to a hall fronted by fluting columns that flanked vast wooden double doors black with age.
As Maddy looked around, she could see that they
were standing in a courtyard of broken flagstones. All around them the inner walls of the tower twisted upward, folding like petals around the hall at its center and turning in on itself until the distant sky was a small O far above. Beams of moonlight crisscrossed the tower’s interior, tumbling and bouncing off polished discs set into the crumbling walls before breaking against the hall. The hall itself was as neat and simple as the shabby and decayed tower was overblown and fanciful. It was as if a sophisticated marble temple had been set down inside a castle created by a child. Frost and snow lay over all the flaws and smoothed them to the eye, but Maddy could see that the tower was sick. She guessed that Liadan had created it to swallow the hall, which must have been the home of the Tuatha who had ruled before her. Look at me! the tower seemed to say. Look at how grand and tall and impressive I am compared to what the old queen built. Is the new queen not wonderful?
Nutter, thought Maddy.
The tip-tapping of a woman’s shoes on the stairs brought Maddy back to the present. She was beautiful and dressed in white furs over a flowing white dress that dragged in a train behind her. Jewels dripped from her ears and neck and crusted her elegant, tapering fingers. Her dress was embroidered all over with plants, birds, and butterflies, making her a promise of Spring in Winter’s home. Her hair was blond and hung in huge glossy waves to her knees. A smile hovered on her lips, and her green eyes were full of laughter. But her white hands were forced to hold up the edges of her dress as she carefully made her way toward them and it wasn’t high heels that made her feet ring against the stone. She had no feet, only the cloven hoofs and thick hairy legs of a goat.
With her teeth still vibrating in her head from the coach ride, Maddy could only gawp at the faerie. When she was a couple of steps from the children, the creature stopped and dipped in a slight bow.
“Lady Aoife, at your service,” she said. “My mistress, Queen Liadan, bids you welcome to the Winter Court.”
