Tales From The Wyrd Museum 2: The Raven's Knot

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Tales From The Wyrd Museum 2: The Raven's Knot Page 27

by Robin Jarvis


  ‘Veronica?’ she called. ‘Where are you?’

  Sticking out from beneath one of the larger chunks of rock the child found a mangled mass of flattened lead—all that was left of the coffin and she could not help but think that somewhere, under all those tons of broken stone, the old woman lay similarly crushed.

  ‘Squashed into jam,’ she said sadly. ‘Poor, Veronica.’

  Suddenly an eager, delighted voice drifted to her from out of the darkness that lay beyond the reach of the magical lanterns.

  ‘I do hope it's strawberry!’ it cried. ‘Save some for me!’

  There, stumbling into the light, was Miss Veronica.

  The old woman looked only slightly the worse for wear after her hideous descent. Her already pale and powdered complexion was thick with dust, and splinters of gravel were caught in her dyed tresses. The silken robe was ripped and tattered but, although she had lost one of her satin slippers, Miss Veronica had managed to keep hold of her walking cane. Waddling forward, her stalk-like, knobbled legs bleeding with cuts and grazes, a great, glad smile was upon her face and she held out a trembling hand towards Edie.

  ‘Are there pancakes also?’ the old woman called. ‘How scrumptious! I do feel peckish.’

  Edie ran across the rubble to hug her as Miss Veronica peered hungrily about the glittering cavern.

  ‘Oh, but I can't see any,’ she muttered sulkily. ‘I hope you haven't eaten it all, Edith dear.’

  The girl shook her head impatiently. ‘There ain't no jam,’ she said. ‘But why ain't you killed after droppin’ all that way?’

  ‘The same reason you aren't, dear,’ came the amused reply. ‘We are the Fates, well, two of them anyway. I remember Ursula saying how there was very little that could actually do us serious harm. We have drunk of the blessed waters and the threads of our lives were never part of the tapestry, you see. We are outside of the web, even though we are enslaved to it.’

  Clasping a hand to her bosom, she stared up past the lofty heights of the glimmering pillars to where the darkness reigned and sighed wistfully.

  ‘I did enjoy that little fall,’ she confessed. ‘Do you think we might do it again? Celandine and I could have amused ourselves by leaping off the museum's roof when we got bored. She would have enjoyed that so. I wonder what she's doing now? Still practising the steps to one of her dances, I expect. What a pity there are no pancakes after all—I was dearly looking forward to them.’

  Edie stared at her. The old woman seemed to have forgotten why they were here and the seriousness of their predicament. It was as if she had regressed into the idiotic rambling of her former self, before the old memories and resentments towards Miss Ursula had surfaced in her fuddled mind.

  ‘Veronica!’ the girl snapped. ‘What about Woden? What about the bracelet? Don't go all stupid on me again!’

  The old woman pressed her arthritic fingers to her temples.

  ‘The Captain!’ she exclaimed, becoming lucid once more. ‘The healing treasure—it fell from my hand. Help me to find it, Edith! We must take it to him!’

  Separating, they each chose a section of the cavern in which to search, knowing that so long as the golden circlet was not buried under the slabs of granite it would be fairly easy to find.

  Passing between the enormous ice pillars, Edie's sharp eyes scanned the way ahead, hunting for both the treasure's pale, yellow glow and a possible way out of this great, wintry chamber.

  Yet there was no escape, there were no hidden exits and no steps to take them back to the destroyed tomb chamber above. Edie and Miss Veronica were trapped.

  Reaching the far, slippery wall where the soft beams of the silver vessels mingled with dim shadows, Edie began to follow it around as best she could.

  After several minutes of having to squeeze between the translucent stalagmites and constantly losing her footing upon the treacherous, frozen floor, the child suddenly saw a pale radiance ahead, where fewer of the titanic pinnacles jutted into the dark.

  Hurriedly, Edie slipped towards it, leaving the chill, glass-like forest behind her as she ducked beneath a draped formation of iridescent ice and slid to a wide area of white frost, ringed about by boulders of polished, black rock.

  In the centre of this strange circle, half buried in the snowy carpet, lay the golden ornament they had removed from Joseph's grave.

  Keeping her eyes fixed upon the wavering, buttery gleam which flowed from the precious, enchanted metal, Edie clambered over the bordering stones and quickly ran across to retrieve it.

  Kneeling upon the freezing ground, the girl lifted the bracelet and a cloud of vapour issued from her lips as she gasped and let it fall once more.

  The metal was horrible to touch. It tingled and stabbed her skin, and she pulled her hands up into the sleeve of her coat before attempting to pick it up again.

  ‘That can't be why Ursula was so scared of it,’ she pondered aloud, inspecting the brightly glinting jewels. ‘P'raps it's a magic wish-giver.’

  Balancing the circlet upon her head like a tiara, Edie closed her eyes and commanded, ‘Take me and Veronica out of this ‘ole and plop us back outside.’

  Nothing happened. The girl looked about her in glum disappointment, then when her gaze fell upon the place where the treasure had lain, she squealed in surprise and the bracelet fell from her pixie-hood as she fell backwards.

  ‘Bleedin’ Ada!’ she yelled. ‘Veronica! Over ‘ere!’

  From the far side of the cavern the old woman's answering voice called back, but Edie was already scrabbling at the frost beneath her, sweeping it wildly aside and peering down excitedly.

  Clearing a wide space around her, pushing the snow to the edge of the boulder-ringed area, she held the golden bangle close to the floor and breathed a great, steaming plume of amazement.

  The polished, black stones which surrounded her were the edge of a great pool and she was crouching upon its frozen surface. Down into the shadowy, ice-locked depths shone the pale glow of the treasure and the child bit her lip as she gazed upon the incredible sight it revealed.

  A pair of large, round eyes were staring up at her from the solid murk below and the girl burnished the ice with her sleeve in order to see more clearly.

  The eyes were mirrored globes and the light of the bracelet curved and glittered around them, burning like lamps filled with a cold, brumal flame.

  Endeavouring to see more, Edie squashed her nose against the frozen water and tried to pierce the dim dark.

  Yet the creature was too far down for the gentle, golden rays to penetrate. Beneath those uncanny, baleful eyes which appeared to be staring straight back at her, the unearthly face disappeared into the gloom and all the girl could make out was a wide forehead, crowned by a mass of hair which resembled tangled river weeds.

  Edie had never seen or imagined anything like it before.

  ‘Oh, well done, Edith, dear,’ came Miss Veronica's voice as the old woman approached the frozen pool. ‘Now let us find a way out so we may take the healing device up to the Captain. We've been gone such a woefully long...’

  Carefully climbing over the ring of boulders, Miss Veronica crept to the young girl's side where her jaw dropped open in bewildered astonishment.

  ‘Gracious me!’ she cried. ‘I don't believe it! It's impossible!’

  Edie tore her face from the ice, peeling a layer of skin from her nose in the process.

  ‘Do you know what it is?’ she asked eagerly.

  The old woman stared down at the unblinking, bulging eyes and backed away to sit down with an ungraceful bump upon one of the bordering stones.

  ‘I do indeed,’ she whispered. ‘Though I thought never to see its like again.’

  Edie slithered over to her.

  ‘Tell me!’ she insisted.

  Miss Veronica tried to calm herself but could not prevent a thrilled grin breaking upon her withered face.

  ‘It's an undine, Edith!’ she declared. ‘You have found an undine. And a male one at
that!’

  The girl grinned back at her then folded her arms, ‘What's one of them?’

  ‘Undines are water spirits, dear. I thought they had disappeared from the world ages since, I cannot quite believe that I'm seeing one now—I truly can't.’

  Rubbing her eyes in case they were deceiving her, the old woman took another look and clapped her hands together with child-like glee.

  ‘In the beginning of things,’ she told Edie, ‘before the lands were raised, undines roamed in the great oceans. They are the fount of all sacred wells and springs and, long ago, such a glorious being dwelt in the pool beneath Nirinel.’

  Edie turned back to gaze upon the frozen creature sealed within the ice. ‘You had one of them under the museum?’ she whistled. ‘What happened to it? Why ain't it there now?’

  ‘It left us,’ Miss Veronica replied. ‘The creature was lured away. That is why when the well was drained, the blessed water was never replenished. If only Ursula and Celandine were here now, I should love to see the looks on their faces. They will never believe my word alone, or yours either—if we ever go back that is.’

  ‘Is it dead?’ the child asked.

  The old woman sucked in her cheeks. ‘Oh no, dear,’ she said, ‘when a water spirit perishes it returns back to the element from which it is made, becoming a mighty wave or squalling tempest. No, there's nothing the matter with that fellow as far as I can tell, except that he's imprisoned in the ice, of course. This really is stupendous.’

  But Edie was no longer listening, her head was buzzing within the pixie-hood. Now she knew why she had insisted on accompanying Miss Veronica to Glastonbury. Scampering back to the centre of the pool the girl threw herself down and started to scratch and scrape the surface with her fingernails.

  ‘Edith!’ Miss Veronica called. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I want to let it out!’ she cried.

  The old woman's hands fluttered nervously before her mouth. ‘Oh, I'm not sure what Ursula would say.’

  ‘Stuff Ursula!’ Edie shouted. ‘I got me an idea. Will you help me or not?’

  Miss Veronica's high, painted eyebrows crinkled upon her forehead as she muttered to herself. ‘Stuff Ursula!’ she repeated. ‘Yes, why not—why should I care what she thinks anyway?’

  Gripping hold of her walking cane, she eased herself around the boulder and rose whilst clearing her throat.

  ‘Stand aside, Edith,’ she instructed.

  The girl obeyed and watched as Miss Veronica held out the cane and tapped it once upon the ice.

  A flicker of green flame travelled down the black rod, shooting out over the frozen water, and the old woman waited expectantly.

  The livid light of the emerald fire burned briefly over the surface of the pool, until a loud crack resounded throughout the cavern and the glow vanished as the ice split and shivered.

  Up through the deep crevices the thawing waters bubbled, and Edie leaned over the boulders to see a fine film of skin slowly close over the large, mirrored globes of the undine's eyes.

  ‘It's working!’ she gurgled. ‘Look! He's movin’!’

  As the splintered chunks of ice melted and dwindled, the creature within the pool began to stir.

  At first only the eyelids blinked, then as the dark hair began to swirl and wave in the warming waters, the head shifted and, choking back a cry, Edie saw at last the undine's face.

  It was like looking upon an ogre of the unlit deep. The undine's countenance was a frightening creation of scale and muscle. Between the great, staring eyes two slits served as nostrils and below them a wide, lipless, fish-like mouth opened to draw its first liquid breath for countless years.

  Edie could see no neck to speak of, the scaly chin simply joined on to the creature's chest, but the undine's shoulders were huge knots of shining, sinewy flesh, fringed with webbed spines and above them she saw a row of gills twitch and flare.

  With the inky cloud of its hair churning thickly about its face, the eyes of the water spirit swivelled within their frog-like sockets, glaring up at the rippling world above until they finally came to rest upon the two puny figures standing beyond the rim of its domain.

  Edie beamed and waved joyously, but Miss Veronica drew close to her and tried to lead the child away from the edge.

  ‘Careful, Edith,’ she warned. ‘Folk are never at their best when they have just awoken. There's no knowing what sort of mood he might be in. Besides, not every member of his race was benevolent, they were always apt to be untame and capricious. The undines were extremely powerful, they were here long before the land, long before Yggdrasill, long before us.’

  ‘You mean he might be bad?’ the girl asked.

  The old woman nodded fearfully. ‘The lords of the ice began as water spirits,’ she said. ‘Oh dear, what have I done?’

  But it was too late to repent of her actions now, for at that moment the pool boiled and seethed as, from the cold darkness, the undine rose.

  Over the polished black stones the icy water crashed, drenching the figures of Edie and Miss Veronica as they stared helplessly at the ancient power which came bursting to the surface.

  Into the upper air the undine erupted, throwing back its huge head to open the wide, razor-toothed mouth and roar in a voice like the pounding of the sea upon the shore and the full fury of the raging storm.

  As the bitterly cold waves smashed and battered over her, the girl could only splutter and gape up at the astounding, terrifying spectacle which reared from the pool like a dark vision dredged from a mariner's nightmare.

  Shaken by the bellowing blare of the creature's sonorous clamour, the massive icicles which filled the cavern began to resonate and chime, whilst the immense glacial columns vibrated and tinkled as fragments shattered and fell away.

  Edie jumped when one huge block of ice came tumbling down and exploded with a tremendous crash, then the clangorous din fell silent and she saw that the undine was glowering down at them.

  Deep ridges formed upon the glistening skin of the creature's wide forehead, as it considered them and Edie felt a pitiless, indomitable force beat down upon her.

  At her side, Miss Veronica caught her breath as she too felt the potency of the undine's overwhelming power.

  Like a mounting, destroying wave, the monstrous figure towered over them, a drizzle of rain teeming from the long hanks of dark green hair that hung heavily over the pulsating gills, splashing into the pool and against their upturned faces as they anxiously waited.

  ‘Your pardon, Lord!’ Miss Veronica suddenly piped up, her frail voice sounding rather comical before that lowering countenance. ‘Long has it been since I was privileged to encounter one of your noble, exalted race. I am Veronica, a Spinner of the Wood, attendant of the last remaining root and this is Edith, who my sisters and I have taken to be our daughter.’

  Resting her hand upon the child's shoulder for balance, the old woman executed a clumsy curtsey then dabbed the dribbling water from her face.

  Edie noticed that the furrows in the undine's brow had vanished and the tension in the wintry chamber was easing gradually.

  ‘Eldest of all things are you,’ Miss Veronica continued in her praise. ‘Only the rolling waters and the flame which burns at the world's heart are older. You were ancient when the Ash first took root and I honour you with great reverence.’

  Bowing her head, the old woman nudged Edie to do the same, but the child ignored her for the undine let out a long, rumbling sigh and began to sink back into the pool.

  Down into the dark water the massive bulk descended, until only the great head remained above the surface and the mass of hair snaked about the submerged shoulders like billowing fronds of pond weed.

  Then, as the pale lids languidly slid over the sparkling mirrors of its eyes, the undine spoke.

  A sound like the trickling of streams and the rushing of rapid rivers came to Edie's ears from the lipless, gaping mouth and, to her delight, she found that she could understand what the bab
bling, splashing voice was saying.

  ‘Grateful am I to you,’ the undine said, ‘measurer of petty destinies. The cold, binding shackles are undone at last and the time of my fettered captivity is over.’

  ‘Who did this cruel and wicked thing?’ Miss Veronica asked.

  A deep, rolling growl echoed from the creature's throat. ‘My brothers,’ came the dissonant reply. ‘They forged for themselves chill flesh in which they left the waters—seeking dominion over the new continents. Yet I would not join them, enamoured of the oceans as I was, the land held no fascination. My rebellion angered them and so they tethered me with the biting chains of their new raiment. Here have I remained, through the endless, lonely years.’

  The eyelids closed and the corners of the great mouth drooped despondently.

  ‘So alone,’ the undine lamented. ‘Forsaken and forgotten in the chill, bleak darkness without hope of light or companionship.’

  Miss Veronica tutted consolingly. ‘At least I had my sisters,’ she admitted. ‘However annoying they were, I was never alone.’

  ‘May the blessing of the deeps be upon you,’ the creature said gently in a voice like the rush of the foaming surf. ‘Now I am eager to return to the blue boundless seas, the grots and caves of this land I shall be most glad to leave. Farewell.’

  The old woman bowed a second time and the water spirit slid further into the pool.

  ‘Oi! Fishface!’ Edie suddenly snouted. ‘Don't you go yet!’

  Only the large bulbous eyes were now above the surface of the water and they turned upon her curiously.

  ‘Edith!’ Miss Veronica trilled in a fluster. ‘How dare you speak to him like that!’

  ‘Why shouldn't I?’ the girl answered defiantly, assuming a belligerent stance as she placed one foot upon the boulders and jabbed a ringer at the creature.

  ‘I think you're downright mean and ungrateful!’ she accused. ‘Leavin’ us ‘ere like this, after we went to all the trouble of lettin’ you go. Ain't you ashamed?’

  Miss Veronica threw up her hands, scandalised. ‘You impudent child!’ she gasped. ‘Button your tongue at once.’

  ‘Won't!’ the girl cried crossly. ‘He's not only selfish but daft as well. Ain't no point goin’ back to the sea, there's none of his sort left—you said so yourself.’

 

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