by Aderyn Wood
“I was thinking about home.”
Ness nodded.
“My mother. She was cooking and there was a girl in our house – Prudence. She goes to my school. She hates me.”
Ness nodded again. “That girl is in your past now – at least I hope so.”
Dale continued, “What about my mother?”
“What about her?”
“I told her that I’d be spending the summer with my father. They don’t speak, so there’s no danger of her calling him. But, how long will I be gone? She knew nothing about Gareth. I never told her. She would have forbidden any contact with him if she knew. Mum’s a snob. She would never have allowed me to be friends with an old homeless man.”
“Or a sorcerer.” Ness smiled.
“Especially a sorcerer.” Dale grinned. It was the first time she had thought or spoken about him without crying.
Ness sat down again. “I wouldn’t worry about your mother. Once you are in the Borderlands, these things will be sorted out. You’ll see.” Ness touched her hand and she felt the warmth flow through it. Just like Rhys’s touch that day in the library.
“Tell me more about Rhys. Who is he?”
Ness raised her brow. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”
Dale sighed. “I should have expected that.”
Ness looked genuinely sorry. “I can’t tell you because I don’t exactly know. Well, not everything. But I do suspect, and no, I am not going to tell you my suspicions, because I could be wrong.”
Dale frowned.
“You’ll find out when you are there.” Ness looked at the fire and pursed her lips. “Still, I can’t help thinking your training could begin now.”
Dale raised an eyebrow. “Training?”
Ness nodded. “Yes, I think you must meditate, every day. I only wish we had more time so that I could teach you properly.”
“I could stay longer?” Dale couldn’t hide the hope in her voice.
Ness shook her head. “No, it is more urgent for you to reach the Borderlands. There, you will learn everything you need to know.”
14
At dawn they walked down to the boat. Cat sat at the bow, whiskers twitching, and stared off over the sea.
“He misses Gareth,” Ness said.
“Can you talk to the animals too?” Dale asked.
Ness smiled. “Can’t you?”
Dale thought about it. Could she? Sometimes animals gave her a distinct feeling, like she could detect their mood. She always did this with Cat, but maybe she imagined it. She shrugged her shoulders. Another mystery.
Ness had been right about the weather. The ocean sat like a mirror reflecting a cloudless sky. It would be slow sailing, but safe.
Brutus came close to Dale. He held something behind his back.
“What is it, Brutus?” Dale asked.
“Goodbye, Dal.” He brought his hand forward to reveal a crystal, the size of a large marble, attached to a leather thong. He tied it around Dale’s neck.
“He made it for you,” Ness said.
It was milky white with pale wisps of blue and lavender – like clouds caught in glass.
“I love it. Thank you, Brutus.” Dale kissed his cheek and the big man turned a deep red.
“You’re a beethead like me.” She laughed.
“Look after it; it will be useful,” Ness said.
Dale and Brutus walked Joy out into the water a little, and then Dale turned back to Ness and gave the old woman a long hug. “Thank you, Ness. I’m going to miss it here.”
“You’re welcome, child. We’ll meet again soon. You’ll see.”
Dale stood back and looked up at the old woman. “Really?”
Ness laughed. “Of course! It’s what friends do.” She reached out and wiped a tear from Dale’s eye.
“I sense the pain of your grief has already lessened. It will always be there. Sensitive, like an old scar. But like all wounds it will heal.”
Dale nodded and jumped into the boat. A gentle breeze came from the south, filling the mainsail. They glided away. Dale looked back and waved until Ness and Brutus became two specks on the horizon.
The albatross, Nancy, followed them out for a while, and now she flew just ahead, as though guiding the boat. Cat mewed and prowled the bow, looking at Dale every so often and then at Nancy, as though asking her silently to do something about the damn bird.
Dale tilted her head. “Nancy’s got every right to fly wherever she wants, Cat, there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Cat gave her a flat stare and returned to his prowling, like a lion in a pen.
About midmorning Nancy left them. She gave a single squawk before arcing round and heading back to where they had come from.
“Goodbye, Nancy. Tell Ness thank you, and that we are safe.” She yelled into the breeze and watched the bird disappear. When she looked around she realised they were surrounded by horizon. There were no cliffs, no shorelines, nothing.
“We’re all alone,” she whispered.
The wind continued to blow from the east and Joy had an easy downwind sail. Dale busied herself by patting Cat. She even got her sketchbook out and began doodling. She tried to draw the scene before her but the horizon proved rather uninteresting. Still, she let her drawing do its own thing and realised after a while that she had drawn a rather convincing sketch of the sprite.
She put it down, grabbed a muffin that Ness had baked that morning, and nibbled at it as she studied the sketch. ‘You need to believe in your imagination,’ Ness had said.
She took another bite of the muffin and thought about the previous week.
So Gareth was a sorcerer, and so was Ness. Dale herself held some special ability that Ness had been reluctant to speak of. She was headed for a mythical place called the Borderlands and was wanted by another sorcerer, the pastor, who had killed Gareth. It was so much to take in.
And what of Rhys? What was his mysterious part in all of this?
Cat prodded onto her lap and sniffed at her fingers.
“I fed you before we left. Are you thirsty?”
Dale poured some water into Cat’s little drinking bowl and watched as the feline lapped up his fill.
“Is it true, what Ness said? Do you miss Gareth?”
Cat stopped to swallow. He glanced at her with a look of disdain before walking over to the folded canvas by the bow and curling up for a sleep in the midday sun.
Dale squinted ahead. The horizon still surrounded them.
The golden wave was drawing her in again. Dale swam hard. Her arms ached and her legs kicked in vain as she tried to swim away from the current. She didn’t want to look back. She knew what was there. But she did it anyway, and she saw it – the golden eye.
She was closer now than she’d ever been. The detail of the iris was clearly visible; the flecks within blazed with gold. At the centre was the pupil, a deep abyss. When she looked at it she felt dizzy and tired. Her limbs, fatigued from the constant swimming, stopped their task to rest. She drifted with the current, toward the eye and the golden wave that dwarfed all others. The eye held its gaze, no longer sweeping the ocean, scanning. It remained still and Dale returned its stare as she relaxed and let the current take her.
‘Moaorr’ something called to her. Was it from above or beneath the waves?
‘Mooaaarrr’.
Sharp pin pricks stabbed her legs. It forced her to look away from the eye. She felt the stab again and the sound ‘mooaarrr’. The pin pricks, so sharp, they made her jump.
‘Moaaaaaoooorrr’.
Dale’s eyes opened and she bolted awake. Before her stood Cat, drenched. His sharp claws sunk into her thighs and he mewed loudly, shouting at her. The pleasant weather of the morning had gone. Rain fell sideways and cut through like bullets. The mainsail was fully released. She could see the rope firmly jarred in the cleat. Waves rose up all around them. Joy surfed them vicariously. It was a miracle they hadn’t capsized. What the fuck had happened?
&nbs
p; Dale jumped awake and began to take control of the boat. She turned the tiller until the main slackened but a fresh force of wind and rain filled it, and Dale fell backwards as Joy took flight.
Lightning flashed overhead and within a heartbeat thunder ripped through the sky. She looked up, squinting into the rain. The sky was charcoal, the ocean an inky black. Waves, the size of Ben Nevis, surrounded her. Dale gulped. Was this a dream too? Cat paced back toward her. He looked so small with his fur plastered to his skin. He looks scared.
Dale’s heart raced. Her hands shook as she tried to steady the tiller.
“Gareth,” she whispered.
“Gareth,” she shouted now, into the steel rain. “What am I supposed to do? I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know …”
Her vision blurred. Around her lightning and thunder filled the air, while watery mountains erupted in the ocean. Joy would climb one only to surf, dangerously down. Dale’s arm ached as she tried to keep the boat balanced.
Images of shipwrecks came to mind. Huge tankers broken in half. She wiped her eyes as spray dumped in the boat when Joy finally reached the valley of the wave.
“Cat! Cat?”
“Meoa.”
“Thank god! Stay with me, Cat.” She grabbed her little friend and held him in her lap. She could feel him shivering.
Her hands were tired, one trying to hold the main the other the tiller, and intermittently Cat. I need to lower the main, she thought. Let the boat ride it out. It’s the only way we can survive.
“Cat, let me do this one thing. Then, you’ll see, we’ll be safer.”
She moved him off her lap, but as she did so the boat sped up as a gust of wind caught the sail. It billowed and filled with terrifying wind, and Joy was off again, climbing yet another mountainous wave. She looked at the sail, her mouth open. How am I to get it down with such a force on it?
She tried to turn the tiller but the tension proved too great. She would have to wait till they had surfed down the wave. Another unwanted thrill ride awaited.
Finally it came. They broke the crest, foamy water leaped about her. Dale took a moment to look around. A rosy light glowed ahead. It was lit further by lightning; the crack of thunder filled her ears, but the glow was definitely there. That must be west, and she felt a small relief settle in her heart. We could make it.
Gravity took hold and they fell – fast. Giddiness swirled in her stomach. She’d felt it before on rollercoaster rides. Only now it was ten times the intensity she’d ever known.
Joy rode down the wave like an arrow. Streams of spray angled off the boat creating their own spectacle and drenching Dale and Cat as they formed.
The fall felt free, and terrifying. Finally the boat crashed into the valley of water below. Dale pushed the tiller, but to no avail. The mainsail ripped and snapped. The rudder broke under the force. Dale lost control. The boom flicked to the side before swinging violently toward her. She saw the grain of its wood as it rushed and heard the crack as it slammed into her head. Then everything went black.
15
Dale’s first awareness was thirst. Her lips were dry and cracked. She tried to lick them with her tongue but she had no saliva. A pounding headache throbbed at her temples. She opened her eyes to reveal blue sky.
What happened? Flashes of great waves and white water returned to haunt her.
She tried to sit up but the pain in her head shot through her entire skull and down her spine. She lay back again and closed her eyes, but that made her feel dizzy and nauseous. A sudden sickness came upon her. She sat up and leaned to the side, ignoring the bolt of pain in her head. She vomited watery liquid onto the sand beside her. Her stomach began to spasm until her abdomen hurt.
It’s the sea water. I must have swallowed it.
Finally her stomach settled and she slowed her breathing.
The sun sat high in the blue bowl of the sky. She seemed to be on an island. Scotland was miles away, it had to be an island. It had a sandy beach, not very big, bluffed by large rock cliffs. Where was she? Her legs were submerged in the water. The waves of the sea were calm now, barely waves at all. Flashes of the mountainous waves of the previous day returned to her. She put her head in her hands and rubbed at her throbbing temples. How was it possible? Such freak weather!
Dale touched her forehead and detected a large egg shape that was extremely tender. I must have been hit by the boom. If she had the energy she would have cried but she was spent. She managed only to crawl up the beach a little way and rest her head under the shade of a shrub. Within seconds sleep took her.
When she awoke the sun danced inches above the horizon, and her mouth was even drier. It hurt to swallow. She sat up and the pain in her head returned, but at least the nausea had gone. She squinted to examine her surroundings. The late afternoon sun reflected on the water; the shimmer made it hard to see, but there was no sign of Joy. Fear beat in her heart. Without Joy she was dead.
Then another thought struck. Where’s Cat? Panic gripped, but the adrenalin gave her the boost she needed to move, and on shaking legs she managed to stand.
“Cat,” she croaked. She swallowed. “Cat!”
She called a dozen times in different directions but there was no sign of him. It’s nothing unusual, she tried to reassure herself. He’s always going off. He’s probably munching on a caught mouse, or curled up fast asleep. Cat would be alright, he’d turn up soon. He had to.
Dale turned her attention to finding the boat. To her left, a wall of rocks jutted out of the sea. The waves crashed all around it. Maybe Joy was on the other side of that wall. With great effort Dale made her legs move. Steadily she climbed the rock until she was just above her own height. As soon as she reached the top she spotted the boat. She smiled as relief washed over her. I might survive after all.
Placing one foot below the other, she descended the short wall and walked along the beach to where the boat had banked. The outside hull looked relatively undamaged; there were some scratches in the new paintwork and flashes of indigo were revealed, but when she looked within the hull Dale sucked in her breath. There, near the stern, was a hole the size of her fist. The wood had shattered inward to make a gash that rendered the boat unseaworthy. Dale rested her hands on the gunwale and looked up to the sky. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes but she shook her head.
I’ve no energy for tears.
She looked back at the hole and stared at it for a long time, resigned to the consequences it wrought. There’d be no more sailing. She looked out to the wall of rock and realised she must have scraped against it during the storm. Such a collision, at high speed would have jerked Joy one way and Dale the other.
I’m lucky I’m still breathing, she thought. So why don’t I feel lucky?
She sighed and her head hurt. She ignored the sight of the offending hole and opened the nearest porthole. Her stash of food remained safely wrapped in the canvas bag. But how long will this last me here?
She tried not to think about what the future would bring. Just get through the night.
Grabbing one of Ness’s muffins, along with a bottle of water, she turned from the boat. I’ll survive this night.
She stumbled up the beach and wolfed down her meagre meal. The sun had just disappeared and the sea showed off its beauty, with rosy, shimmering reflections.
“Cat?” she asked the dusk air. But as before, there was no response.
16
When Dale woke her eyes focused on Joy, still banked on the shore, and she remembered. Her head throbbed, but she felt better. Standing, she found her legs were less shaky. She smiled, but then recalled that Cat was missing and her heart sank. There was still no sign of him.
“Cat!” she yelled. But the only answer was the shush of the waves as they broke on the sandy shore.
“Where are you, Cat?” she whispered.
Dale found more food in the porthole of the boat and ate the last muffin for breakfast. It was stale, but hunger m
ade it delicious. Washing it down with a warm cup of tea would have been nice. There was enough firewood around. Maybe if she lit a fire it would signal her location to Cat.
She spent the morning unpacking her possessions from the boat and brought all her food and clothing up to the tree line. She then made a lean-to with a piece of canvas tied to a tree. Looking through her possessions she guessed enough food remained to last about a week. But how long would she be stuck here? She unrolled one of her maps and tried to guess her exact location. From Ness’s place they had sailed due west, but anything could have happened during the storm. Had she passed the outer Hebrides? She ought to explore this island, get an estimate of how big it was. Maybe it wasn’t even on the map.
The last thing she got out of the boat was the repair kit. Gareth had stocked it well. It contained a range of tools, nails, glue, patching wood, silicon – everything she needed to repair Joy. Well, I know I can do it. I’ve done it before, only that was with Gareth. She breathed deeply and examined the hole in the bottom of the boat. I’ve got to fix it.
With her camp arranged, Dale set out to collect wood for a fire. It was noon and her hunger bit deep. The island vegetation was more dense than typical in the Hebrides, which made her think that she was further west than she had originally guessed. Oaks and elms stood like dark towers around her. Fallen branches and dried twigs littered the ground. Soon she had collected enough material for a good fire. I better keep the fire going. I might need it as a signal. She bent to fetch more wood.
As she walked through the thickening forest she called out for Cat, but there was no response. She couldn’t help the sadness that overcame her. Cat, her little companion had gone. She tried not to imagine what must have happened to him. A flash of memory came to her mind, in which he sat in the boat, his fur slick with rain and sea spray. He had shivered as she held him on her lap. She’d told him that they would be safe soon.
