The Ladder: Part 1

by David Hodges

  “Step back, and I’ll show you.”

  She took off her jacket and handed it to Cameron. When she turned her back to him, Cameron saw two long slits in the back of her shirt. They revealed her slender waist which curved into an athletic lower body. Feathers enveloped the skin that was just there, and a pair of wings took shape. Their pattern and color was similar to that of the red kite. Alviva looked over her shoulder at Cameron as she spread her wings with a wry smile, then dropped off of the platform.

  He stepped forward and watched her as she glided gracefully down to the range.

  When she landed, she shouted up at him, “It’s all right if you can’t change right now. It can take some time, just try your best. Take off your shirt if you don’t want to tear it to pieces.”

  Cameron stepped closer to the edge of the platform and looked down. He felt his back beginning to tingle, then he remembered how he woke up with those wretched things scraping into the walls. He jumped back and took a deep breath as the sensation in his back subsided. He climbed down the ladder.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Alviva.

  “Look, despite what you all think I’m not one of you. Why would I want those...” Cameron stopped himself and noticed Alviva’s wounded expression.

  “Do you find me so repulsive?” she asked.

  Cameron looked to her lean yet feminine physique, framed by her folded wings.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Well that’s what I heard.” Her wings shrunk away until they were no longer visible. “Let’s retrieve the arrows.”

  Cameron walked down the range and began pulling arrows from the dirt. Alviva’s red kite was darting in and out of the woods with arrows in tow. Cameron made his way to the farthest target, picking up the odd arrow that had missed a block.

  As he approached the target, he noticed a large bird flying toward him. It looked like the kite at first, but when it was nearer, it was clear that it was much larger. Behind him, he heard the kite screeching.

  Alviva jogged toward Cameron. Her kite kept her distance, fluttering into a tree.

  When Alviva arrived, Cameron asked her, “Is that an eagle?”

  She nodded. “Iolaire Sùil na Grèine to be precise, Eagle of the Sunlit Eye... you might know it as a white tailed eagle. It’s the largest there is, the only other that comes close is the golden eagle.” The eagle perched on a branch twenty yards away. Alviva focused on it. The bird flapped its wings but remained on the branch. “He’s stubborn. Why don’t you try calling him, he seemed to be interested in you.” She handed him her glove.

  Cameron put it on and looked to the eagle. The eagle immediately flew off of the branch toward him. Cameron held out his hand as the massive eagle approached. He ducked his head out of the way of his wings as he came to a rest on his arm. He was astonishing. He had brown, defined feathers that puffed out from his head, a large yellow beak, and eyes that lived up to their reputation. The talons that gripped Cameron’s forearms were at least four inches long.

  Cameron slowly reached out to touch his wing. As soon as he made contact, he saw a flash of the forest canopy and a sheer rock face at the end of a vast field. He pulled his hand away and rubbed his throbbing temples. “Does that always happen?” he asked.

  “No, you’ll get more control over it. What did you see?”

  “Not much, he was high up over the forest, there was a field and a cliff too.”

  “Must’ve been the quarry.”

  Cameron lifted the heavy bird up and sent it away. He watched as it climbed high into the sky. “I know you can glide, but can Éan fly?”

  “No, there are only legends of Athraithe that could ascend.”

  Cameron looked up at the eagle that had become only a speck against the blue sky.

  Alviva said, “We should get back to the armory and go get something to eat.”

  “What about my new bow?”

  “Sorry, you’re expected at the Spheres, it’s probably best that you hold off anyway, you don’t want to become dependent on it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Alviva smiled. “I won’t spoil the surprise, another day.”

  Cameron followed Alviva back to the armory where they unstrung their bows and racked them. Cameron walked over to the leather case and opened it for another look. He was eager to find out what was so special about the heavy old bow.

  Alviva said, “For now, I think it’s best if we keep it in the armory.” She closed the case, “let’s go.”

  As they walked through the circular rings, Cameron spotted Hazel walking toward him with Faron. She had on a pair of tight, brown leather pants, a blouse, a vest, and her riding coat unbuttoned. “What are you wearing?” asked Cameron.

  Hazel replied defensively, “What’s it look like...”

  “What are you doing here?” asked Cameron.

  “Same as you, training.”

  He looked to the armory. “With weapons? Hazel, you’re a young woman, you...”

  He stopped when she directed a glance toward Alviva whose demeanor had turned stern.

  Cameron sighed. “Sorry, just be careful.”

  Faron said, “Don’t worry, we won’t get ahead of ourselves.”

  Hazel changed the subject. “So how did you do?”

  “Err…”

  Alviva said, “He’s solid on the range, he just needs a few changes to his technique and a good deal of practice making use of his new abilities.”

  Hazel patted him on the shoulder. “Good... you’ll have something to do while we’re here.”

  Cameron was finishing the last of his surprisingly salacious fish stew when he said, “This man, Einar... did you know him?”

  Alviva replied, “I did. It would’ve been hard not to. He was a well known Bheochantóir. He taught me how to cure.”

  Cameron was surprised by the close connection. It was indeed a small town. “Would he hurt Alexandra?” he asked.

  Alviva hesitated. “There was a time when I would have said he wasn’t capable of it, but after what’s happened...”

  “You mean stealing the Sphere?”

  Alviva sighed and shook her head. “No. There’s something else. I’m not sure I should be telling you.”

  “Please, I deserve to know.”

  She nodded. “Einar had a wife, they were deeply in love but the madness that drove him to stealing the Sphere, it caused him to do something much worse, something few thought him capable of. Alviva’s brow furrowed. “He murdered her.”

  16

  HAZEL

  Hazel waited in her flat as a servant went to get her new clothes to wear. The girl returned with a large stack of folded clothes. Hazel was surprised to see that there were no dresses or shifts in the pile.

  The servant deciphered her confusion and said, “You’ll be at the training grounds most days. It’s no place for a dress, all that dirt being thrown about. We’ve got you some leather and linen breeches to wear instead. Go ahead and try them on.” She handed her a pair of knee-length leather pants and a small piece of triangular cloth.

  Hazel examined the material of the small cloth; it was finely woven and elastic. “What’s this?”

  “Smallclothes...” she said, confused by the question. She looked down to Hazel’s shear shift.

  “Oh, of course you’ve never worn breeches, have you? You wouldn’t want to wear them without those. Go on, slip ‘em on, they’re very comfortable, made of silk.”

  Hazel pulled them on under her skirt. They were smooth against her skin. She took off her skirt and pulled the breeches on over them. She had to struggle to get them on. “They seem a bit tight.”

  “They’ll break in. I think they look quite nice.”

  “You don’t need that shift.” She handed her a cotton garment that looked like a shift that was cut in half.

  Hazel tried it on and felt as if she were wearing a man’s shirt that had been cut too low. She put a vest on and cinched it down.

  The se
rvant said, “Perfect, you’ll have no trouble moving in that.”

  After putting on her socks and riding boots along with her riding coat, she followed the servant outside to where Daniel and Fergus were waiting with another young man. He was about a foot taller than Fergus with twice his girth. He seemed to be getting along well with Daniel and Fergus judging by their full bellied laughter.

  When he noticed Hazel he approached with a big smile and said, “You must be Hazel. I’m Bjarke, I’ll be showing you to Zofia.” He extended a hand.

  Hazel shook it. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  Daniel said, “I see you’ve been given new clothes.”

  “Aye... I feel a bit ridiculous in them but they do seem more practical than a dress.”

  Fergus’s eyes drifted downward as he said, “Those breeches fit you impeccably.”

  Daniel glanced at him skeptically.

  He blushed. “I mean, they’re well suited to you... much more so than a dress.”

  Hazel smiled. “Thanks.”

  Bjarke said, “Sorry to pull you away, but we ought to get going.”

  “Can’t they come with us?” asked Hazel.

  “I’m afraid not. Ayalon wants to make sure you’re completely focused, at least while you’re starting out.”

  Daniel said, “We’ll be alright, Hazel, you can catch us up later.”

  Hazel followed Bjarke through a bustling corridor that opened into a large market square. Instead of the barren cobbled squares that she was used to, this clearing had large trees scattered throughout, giving shade to the area. There were walkways leading to dozens of tents and stands set up alongside them. In the closest stands and tents, Hazel saw several weasels and squirrels scurrying about and crawling up the tables where they sat confidently, unbothered by the crowds.

  Bjarke said, “We have market three days a week, most of our trade is done here... produce, clothing, furniture, anything you could need.”

  “Do you do any trading outside of the village?”

  “We still sell some of our finer products... silk, clothing, wood work but a lot of the goods we produce don’t return enough coin to take the risk of trading out. We make trips to Derby and some of the nearby villages on occasion.”

  “How do you stay fed?”

  “We produce all of our food on the estate. Within the village, we’ve got plenty who subsist on their own gardens and farms. Outside of the village, Ayalon’s fields produce more than enough for us to sustain ourselves. He used to sell a good deal of his crops outside of the village, now he just sells enough to manage the estate. It’s the same problem, crops just don’t sell the way they used to.”

  Hazel had not considered that the Athraithe might be facing the same problems as ordinary farmers and tradesmen all over England. Her own family had felt the effects.

  “So all the Athraithe are provided for then?”

  “No one is starving if that’s what you mean, and everyone has a place to call home, but it’s a free market in Talamh. Some Athraithe can use their gifts in more profitable ways than others, perhaps producing finer goods. Others, like myself and the rest of the Laochra, are supported directly by Ayalon and his estate.”

  “The Laochra?”

  “The village guard.”

  Hazel was reaching the edge of the market when she heard a voice call out. “Hazel!” She turned back and saw Fíodor waving at her. Elisedd’s little brother stood at his side biting into a roll of bread as he looked toward her.

  Hazel waved and walked toward them. “G’morning!”

  “G’morning, Hazel, Bjarke. Where are you two headed?”

  “We’re meeting with Zofia,” said Bjarke.

  “Ah, for a lesson?”

  Bjarke nodded.

  “Ayalon’s not wasting any time, is he? Hazel, if you’re free this weekend, we would love to have you for dinner. You can invite your lads if you’d like.”

  “I’d love to. I’m not sure I remember exactly where your house is.”

  “That’s all right, I’ll send Elisedd to get you. I’ll let you go now, good luck with your training, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

  Hazel and Bjarke continued past the market toward the village center. They walked through a gap in a large square building and entered a courtyard. A woman in a dark purple robe was sitting at a table, turning through the pages of a book. At her side, the light green leaves of a tall plant were rustling gently. Hazel thought it a curious color for the fall.

  The woman noticed Hazel and Bjarke and looked up from her book, then rose to greet them. The sheen of her robe flowed as she rose; it must have been silk. “Good morning, love. I’ve been eager to meet you.” She gave Hazel a light kiss on the cheek. She had a kindness in her eyes, and short creases formed at their corners with her smile. “I’m Zofia. You must be overwhelmed by all this. I told Faron it was too soon to be teaching you, but he and Ayalon insist that you start right away.”

  “It’s no trouble, I’m curious to learn more.”

  “Glad to hear it. That will make things easier today.” Zofia looked to Bjarke. “Thank you, Bjarke...”

  He nodded, then said to Hazel, “It was a pleasure, Hazel. I’ll be at the armory later. I might see you there.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  He smiled and left.

  Zofia took Hazel’s hand and led her to a chair. “Have you been told much about Trínasúile?” she asked.

  “I don’t recall the word.”

  “It’s the name for our communication with animals.”

  “Oh, yes. My brother Cameron tried it with a bird, he called it over to him. He said he saw its memories when he touched it, and that he could tell it what to do.”

  “It sounds like your brother has already dabbled in three of the four forms of Trínasúile. It’s easiest with your own Cineál, but it can be done with any animal if practiced. Thoghairm, summoning, is the first form you’ll learn.” She looked past Hazel and focused on something in this distance.

  Hazel turned to see Ollie dashing toward them. He stopped at Zofia’s feet and rubbed his sides against her legs. She reached down and petted him, closing her eyes for a moment. “He followed you from your apartment,” said Zofia.

  “Aye, that’s Ollie, he likes to do that. Did you see that when you pet him?”

  “Yes, Léamhmothu we call it. Unlike summoning, it requires physical contact as do the rest of the forms... with very rare exceptions. It’s more difficult to master. Many are never able to learn with animals that are too different from their own Cineál. It can be difficult to navigate the mind of an unfamiliar animal.” Zofia paused and looked at Hazel. “Stop me if I’m going over this too quickly.”

  Hazel smiled. “I think I’m following so far.”

  She smiled and nodded. “There’s a particularly useful application of Léamhmothu... it allows us to access specific memories that have been designated as messages. They are recorded in the presence of an animal.”

  Hazel remembered the servant from the manor who had seemed to be talking to thin air. “I think I saw that, when I was at the manor, one of the servants was speaking in front of a wren.”

  “Yes, birds are popular for Léamhmothu. They’re swift and discreet messengers.”

  Messages that could be seen and heard, delivered with the speed of a bird. It was marvelous.

  “The third form is Iarraidh. Your brother actually asked the bird to do something, he didn’t tell it to. Whatever it was he requested, the bird saw fit to oblige.”

  Hazel smiled at the thought of the bird delightfully relieving itself over Daniel and Fergus. “I see.”

  Zofia led Hazel toward the tall plant near her desk and said, “The fourth form of Trínasúile is Éirí... the ability to possess the mind of an animal. It allows an Athraithe to take the perspective of their Cineál in the present, and, with it, complete control. It takes years to master, even with one’s own Cineál. It’s almost unheard of with an animal that’s not t
heir Cineál.”

  Zofia held out her hand and one of the leaves detached from the plant and fluttered onto her finger. It was not a leaf at all. It was a butterfly.

  Zofia’s gaze became distant and her eyes turned dark brown, the whites of them disappearing. They had a uniform texture to them as if the surface was tightly woven and rough to the touch. Zofia’s face had become completely expressionless, and her body was eerily still.

  Hazel was alarmed by her frightening appearance. She spoke timidly. “Zofia?”

  The butterfly fluttered off of her finger and circled around Hazel until it came back to a rest on Zofia’s hand. Zofia’s eyes regained a normal appearance and she turned toward Hazel.

  “Were you... controlling it?”

  Zofia nodded. “Éirí is the only form of Trínasúile that grants us true control.”

  “So you could see everything, feel everything?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about your body... your actual body, are you still aware of yourself?”

  “No, and that brings me to my next point. Éirí is dangerous, and some never endeavor to achieve it. As long as one possesses the mind of an animal, their own body is vulnerable. Nothing can be felt, not even pain. Athraithe can become lost in the mind of an animal. Time might be skewed; it’s easy to be absorbed by their senses.”

  Hazel could not fathom what it would have been like to be in the mind of an animal, but she was itching to see for herself.

  “There’s one more thing we need to go over before we start. I consider it separate from the other forms of Trínasúile, but it works very much like Léamhmothu. It’s called Ag Léiriú. We can read people, only with their cooperation. Any resistance and it won’t work.”

  “You mean, you could show me your memories?”

  “Exactly, anyone could, Athraithe or not. It can be an incredibly insightful way of sharing experiences or a way to verify a person’s claims. Ag Léiriú doesn’t lie. We won’t practice it until we’ve gone over the other forms. Do you have any idea what your Cineál is?”

  “No. I haven’t changed yet.”

  “Have you noticed any differences with your senses? Sight? Scent?”