‘I think I am not that which you expected. I am the troll king. My name is Evelake. You do not have to bow, though I see you had forgotten to anyway.’
The children sighed. They had been particularly rude and, at the first opportunity when they should have remembered, failed their etiquette briefing.
‘I’m sorry, Your Majesty,’ said Niamh in an attempt to rally. The words she and Grady had been browbeaten into remembering came flooding back. ‘We thank you for your welcome and would welcome you to Avalon.’ She bowed now with an extended flourish before nudging Grady, who still stood open-mouthed. He copied Niamh’s bow as best he could, though with considerably less grace.
Evelake laughed loudly. ‘I see Murdock has given you instruction well. Please stand. You are among friends. Those are ancient words and honour the treaty.’
Niamh and Grady stood. Evelake, who moments before had looked imposing and alien, now stepped lightly down the steps towards them and extended a hand.
‘Welcome to our humble home,’ said the king, shaking first Niamh and then Grady’s hand. Niamh had expected to feel a metal coldness but a warmth pulsed through the king’s hand which took her quite by surprise. ‘You were not expected today though your reputation of being unpredictable means we should not be surprised. What brings you here?’
Niamh felt foolish at the king’s question. The adrenalin of hunting the source of the flashing light had worn off and hunger was starting to overtake them. The king noticed the look in Niamh’s eye and did not give her a chance to reply.
‘You look hungry. Come and sit.’ The king gestured to Hewn, who placed a hand on the children’s shoulders.
‘You may want to step back,’ said Hewn.
The troll dropped to one knee and thrust a fist in the hard blue stone floor of the chamber. The ground began to bubble and shapes began to rise from it. First a stone table flowed upwards, growing like crystals in a laboratory beaker. Then high backed chairs followed, and finally delicate crystal glasses and plates formed from the surface of the table.
The king smiled as Hewn stood up again, clearly enjoying the look of shock on the faces of the children. ‘Please, sit and be comfortable. I am sorry we do not have more suitable chairs for you but your arrival gave us little chance to prepare. I have water for you from our springs but again, as we had not expected you, we are a little short on food you might find palatable. Our tastes are a little more rocky than yours. However, there is someone I would like you to meet who may be able to help us.’
The children looked past the king as a bright shaft of light appeared from behind the throne. It turned out to be the smallest, most childlike troll the children had ever seen. Silver strips of brightly reflective crystal cut patterns across the creature’s skin making her sparkle in the light of the cavern. The figure stepped tentatively up beside the king.
‘This is my daughter, Modron. She has some special skills which I believe might help us with the food issue.’ The king nodded to the tiny troll who took from a pouch slung over one shoulder a single seed. She bent down beside the children and placed one hand gently on the ground. Around her fingers the rocky surface bubbled but this time instead of creating tables the surface turned to soil. Modron placed the seed in the soil and gently covered it over. She bent closer and sang a short sweet note that echoed around the chamber. Placing one hand over the small pile of soil she hummed gently to herself before stepping back. A small green leaf sprouted from the soil and began to grow rapidly. It thrust upwards at an astonishing pace, turning first into a small sapling and then onwards into a beautifully shaped apple tree. Blossoms appeared and then evaporated as if blown away by a breeze. Green apples burst from the branches and in moments bulged to full size and turned shiny and red.
‘I don’t have many tricks, but this is one of them,’ said Modron in a slightly bashful tone. Her voice was sweet and clear. She plucked two apples from the tree and handed one to each of the children. Niamh regarded hers with wonder before biting into the most juicy, most satisfying apple she had ever tasted.
‘Modron is unusual in our race,’ said the king. ‘Even by our standards she is a rare beauty. I am … unique. But Modron is rarer than a king. Now, tell me what brings you so unexpectedly to my kingdom? Your parents, I think, will not be well pleased when they find out.’
Grady wiped juice from his chin before reaching into his pocket to pull out the sliver of crystal. He held it up in one of the beams of light that flooded the chamber. A kaleidoscope of colours dappled the table top and a collective gasp rang out from the watchers in the chamber. The king stood slowly. ‘Where did you find that?’ he said, reaching for the shard. The sliver was exactly the same as the crystal streaks in Modron’s skin.
Niamh took a deep breath and decided to plunge into her tale. ‘Someone used a mirror to blind me in a competition yesterday. We found that on the ledge where the light came from. We saw the same flash of light again on this mountain this morning. That’s why we flew here today.’
The king turned to Modron. ‘Come here. Let me see you.’
Modron stepped gently forward and stood with her head bowed in front of the king. He took her hands in his, running his fingers across them.
‘Turn around slowly,’ he ordered. Modron did not say a word but turned as directed. The king scanned her as she turned and gave a satisfied grunt when finished. He gazed into the middle distance before turning a penetrating look on the children. ‘This crystal is rare. Modron is the only one of our kind who bears it. But somehow you seem to have found a piece of it in a place it should not be. There is not a fractured facet anywhere on her so I can tell you with absolute honesty it did not come from her.’
Niamh did not seem mollified but tried to restrain her temper. ‘Your Majesty,’ she said, taking a breath. ‘I know what I saw. I’m sure you believe what you say but something, or someone, was responsible for that flash.’
The king stared at the children without responding. He plucked an apple from the tree and held it in his hand. The juicy red flesh reflected the golden glow from the king’s hands but then darkened before turning a carbon grey colour. The king took a grating bite from the now dark fruit and sat down again. ‘I’m sure you believe what you saw. Your family has proven trustworthy over the years so unless your parents have raised two children who do not know the meaning of the word “trust” – or do not understand the gravity of what you are implying – I am inclined to believe you.’ He leaned back in his chair, chewing on the gritty fruit. ‘Modron. I need to think. Would you like to take these two to see some more of our kingdom. They may enjoy your company.’
Modron bowed to the king and took Niamh’s hand. Niamh was surprised again at the gentle touch and the warm pulsing energy from Modron’s hand. ‘Let me show you the crystal room. You will enjoy that, I’m sure. Leave your broomsticks here please. We don’t want you flying off into the wide blue yonder yet.’
Niamh reached back and took Grady’s hand. ‘I think we’d better do as they say,’ she thought. ‘I think we’re safe enough.’
‘You can share thoughts!’ said Modron quietly as soon as Niamh had finished her words.
Grady looked wide-eyed at Modron. ‘But … how did you …’
‘How did I know? It’s something all trolls can do. It’s a trick of the earth elements. I held your sister’s hand when she touched yours.’
‘Modron!’ said the king emphatically. ‘I think you should take your guests for a walk while I talk with Hewn. Now.’
Niamh was in no doubt the king had shut down that line of conversation. Modron had noted their secret quietly but if the king could hear it then she wondered who else might now know about it.
Modron smiled. The crystal patterns in her face sparkled as she did so. Niamh thought it made her look unusually beautiful. ‘Follow me,’ said Modron. A pathway appeared at the far side of the chamber. The roof of the tunnel down which it ran began to glow with the same light as the tunnel through which they had
entered. Modron walked quietly ahead and into the mouth of the passageway.
As the children left the king raised his eyes to the galleries. ‘Everyone out!’ he bellowed.
‘Majesty?’ said Hewn, looking confused.
‘Yes,’ said the king. ‘Even you, Hewn.’
Hewn bowed and retreated. The throne room was filled with the sound of shuffling feet and opening doors as the galleries and main floor were emptied of servants and officials. Eventually the sound of the last door closing echoed away and the king was left in the empty silence.
‘You did not tell me they had the power of silent speech,’ said the king to thin air.
An insubstantial sliver of fire appeared in the air far above him. It descended like an ember floating down from a forest fire. As it did it grew in length and intensity and began to form a swirling pattern in the air. Two wings grew from a body of flickering fire followed by a head and tail, then glowing talons. Brighid flapped her wings silently and landed on the floor beside the king with a click of talons on the chamber floor.
‘Until today I was not certain. And there are many things I choose not to share with you just as there are many things I cannot share with you. They barely know themselves what they can do.’ Brighid sounded grim but her eyes flashed a friendly glow at the king. ‘Thank you for your help. They needed to meet Modron on their own terms. I am sure the bonds of trust will grow between them. You have done wonderfully.’
‘I meant what I said to the children. I have never had reason to distrust their parents, yet at the children’s first meeting with me I have deceived them. Are you certain of what you are doing, Brighid?’
The phoenix laughed. ‘Who can be certain of anything these days? But we all agreed this is the right thing to do. We are on a path that crumbles behind us, Evelake. Right or wrong is irrelevant. We walk the path now. Together.’
Chapter 10
Schemes
The children walked through tunnel after tunnel. Each chamber was followed by another magical chamber – all filled with extraordinary treasures. Some like crystal grottos, others like jewelled vaults with hanging pendants of rubies and sapphires suspended by silk-like threads from glow worms. Others looked out over the mountains and lakes and seemed to be carved from the rock to allow light to catch the veins of crystal that ran through the heart of the mountain and illuminate other hidden ways. Always in the background was a hum from hidden rooms and the sound of hammering and voices, but not one other troll was seen as they wandered through the halls of the mountain king.
The children were completely lost – both in the mountain tunnels and in the conversation with the extraordinary creature that was Modron.
‘What do you mean you’ve never flown on a broomstick? What has you father been teaching you?’ asked Grady.
‘Ummm, Grady,’ said Niamh, as Modron looked on. ‘I don’t want to burst your bubble here, but if you recall it was only a year ago that you didn’t know our parents were a witch and wizard and your biggest concern was not doing well at the high jump at school. Perspective is a wonderful thing, don’t you think?’
Grady stared at his sister. ‘Well … yes. Perspective granted and all that but Modron lives in this world, so surely she must have had the opportunity to fly before!’
Modron stood serenely to one side. Niamh marvelled at how composed she was at every moment. She appeared totally centred and relaxed despite having never met the children before.
‘Your sister has good sight,’ said Modron, bowing to Niamh. ‘I am less than a year old so there are many things I don’t know yet.’
‘Sorry?’ said Niamh incredulously. ‘How old?’
Modron smiled her enigmatic smile again. ‘I was born on Samhain last year.’
‘But … but you … you can’t be that young. You’re nearly as big as we are!’ gabbled Grady.
‘Born maybe isn’t the right word,’ said Modron. ‘I was carved from the rock on Samhain.’
‘But why haven’t you flown before. Or used a wand for that matter,’ said Grady, confused. ‘In fact, why don’t trolls use wands? I’ve never seen any of you with one.’
‘Our magic is the magic of the rocks and land and stone,’ said Modron. ‘We don’t use wands or broomsticks or any of the other … devices that you humans feel you need to manipulate magic.’
‘You make it sound like we don’t have respect for magic,’ said Niamh defensively.
‘Maybe you don’t,’ said Modron, without the slightest trace of reproach in her voice. ‘Having power and control didn’t do you much good in the wars with my kind. But I know someone, a woman, who I’m told is better with a wand and a broomstick than anyone else in these lands. Better even than your mother was on a broomstick.’
‘How could you know about our mother?’ said Niamh. ‘I think you’re making it up!’
‘Why would I do that?’ said Modron, staring intently at Niamh. ‘The knowledge is in the rocks and bones of the land, the rocks and bones I was born from.’
‘So, do you know everything about our land?’ said Grady curiously.
‘There are things which are hidden even from us,’ said Modron. ‘Where cloaks of darkness are cast and people wish to live in the shadows, it is difficult even for the land to feel their tread.’
‘So who is this woman?’ said Niamh, feeling frustration at Modron’s enigmatic answers.
‘Her name is … Aoife,’ said Modron. ‘And she lives in the forests beside Morrigan’s Daughter. Would you like to meet her? I’m sure she could help you beat the girl who won the competition yesterday. I can feel how that loss hurts you.’
Niamh recoiled a little. This creature – younger than she was – was making her feel like an infant. Modron’s wisdom and knowledge was unsettling. But she knew that Modron was right. The loss hurt and anything that might help her win the next time would help. ‘Yes. I would like that. There must be something I can give you in return? Everything in this world seems to come with a catch, including introductions.’
Modron smiled again but bashfully stared at the ground. ‘You’ll think it’s silly.’
‘With a brother like mine you’d be surprised what I think is silly. I doubt there’s anything you could ask for that will be stranger than him.’
‘Hey!’ said Grady, shoving his sister in mock offence.
‘I would enjoy a ride on a broomstick. If it’s okay.’
‘That’s it?’ said Niamh. ‘A ride on a broomstick? I thought you said you didn’t need those devices?’
‘Just because we don’t fly them doesn’t mean we don’t admire them. But my father won’t let us use them. He says they were the makings of the dark wizards in the dim days.’
‘Well you’re going to have to ask him. I’m pretty sure Mum and Dad won’t be happy if we start another war with the trolls over the use of a broomstick.’
‘I will,’ said Modron. ‘Tomorrow?’
‘As long as your father lets us out of here today, I promise we’ll take you out tomorrow.’
The tunnel trembled, and a ripple ran through the ground to touch Modron’s foot. She tilted her head to one side as if listening to some voice. ‘Father wants us. Follow me.’
Modron turned and faced the tunnel wall. She opened one palm and held it against the rock face which disintegrated under her touch. Another tunnel ran ahead of them now. As they peered down it they saw the new opening continue to burrow through the rock before bursting into another tunnel running at right angles across it. ‘This will be a faster way back,’ said Modron, turning into the opening and marching away.
Niamh and Grady exchanged a startled look and followed after their unusual guide.
Modron continued to walk in a straight line on reaching the mouth of the tunnel. She held her hand out again and another opening carved its way through the rock on the opposite side of the tunnel from which they had entered. Time after time she cut new passageways before stopping at a massive stone door. ‘The throne room is through h
ere,’ she said.
‘But that only took minutes to get back,’ said Grady, startled. ‘We’ve been walking for ages. How did you know which direction to go in to get back here?’
‘In our kingdom we have no uncertainty. The rock knows exactly where it is at every time. And so do we.’ Modron reached into her pouch and pulled out a smooth unremarkable stone. ‘If you need to contact me, or I need to contact you, this stone will allow it.’ She handed the stone to Grady. ‘But it will need to be you who holds this,’ she said. ‘Your sister does not yet have the skill to use this properly.’
‘Pardon?’ said Niamh. ‘I am two years older than him so I think I can do anything he can, thank you very much.’
Azrael's Twins and the Circle of Stone: Book Two of the Nearworld Tales Page 13
