Pit’s voice cut through the loud clanging, “You need to go now, the spell on the entrance isn’t going to last much longer and I’m afraid in their great need to get you two, they will harm the cavern if the spell doesn’t dissipate soon. I’m not completely certain you could get back without the cavern.”
“Quick children, hold me in your left hand Gwenth and then wrap both hands around the Rowan staff. Now Briok, take a tight hold on both of her hands. Yes that’s right, intertwine your fingers. We must go so the spell will break. Pit take care of yourself.”
Pit waved to them. “Of course and come back soon. I will have the cave ready when you arrive. Go quickly, now while you can. I see they are getting ready to try and break through again!”
Suddenly the cavern room was empty and not a moment too soon for in the next instant the entrance was being stormed with all manners of creatures. Fairies, Trees, Birds of Prey, Stones all rushed through the doorway.
Fleeing
Briok felt as if he was flying, but the roar and the whoosh only lasted a split second. Briok, who had closed his eyes tightly against the rush in his stomach only a moment before, opened them and find they were standing at the sacred water.
“Hurry lad, take your flask and fill it quickly. I’m afraid stopping for any length of time is too long, but where we go the water is needed.”
Briok dropped Gwenth’s hands and ran to the water’s edge. Kneeling down beside the waters he offered a small prayer and lowered the flask so that the water would flow down its long neck. Standing up, he corked it, and placed it back within the sling at his waist. He ran back, and reached out to take hold of Gwenth’s hands. The Dembys unexpectedly cried out, and he felt a flash of pain rush through where his fingers touched Gwenth’s. The cavern suddenly went pitch black. Briok was just about to let go and step away when he felt the whoosh in his stomach again, he clutched tighter to Gwenth realizing they were no longer in the cavern, and must be traveling through time again. His ears were filled with the roar and whoosh. He wanted to keep his eyes open in hopes he would see something, anything that would help him understand the wonder of time travel, but it was absolutely dark, not even the faintest hint of light, not enough to see that Gwenth still stood before him, and so finally to keep himself from being ill he closed his eyes and clung tightly to Gwenth hoping that the Dembys and the Rowan branch knew what they were doing.
Of Baby and Arrivals
The cottage was hot, and the sleeping room was hotter still. James’ shirt was soaked through for he had stoked up both fire places as his sister in law had demanded, before she’d banished him to the outer room. For the life of him could not see how a woman needed so much heat to have a baby. He didn’t remember there being so much heat for Gwenth’s birth, but then come to think of it, he couldn’t really remember Gwenth’s birth at all. Still, he understood deeply that birth was a mystery to men in many ways, and he knew that Reval would take good care of his wife, so he had built up the fires as she had requested and brought her boiled water and clean sheets and left the room without argument, when it was demanded of him.
He now sat sweating miserably by the fire, sweating and cringing each time his wife’s voice rose in screams of pain. He had tried to smoke his pipe, hoping it would calm his nerves but that made him feel even more like retching, and so he sat on the stool like a great frozen block, not moving just staring into the flame, and trying to fight off the sense of dread that now ruled the center of his stomach. His fear of losing Meredith was so great; it felt as if it were choking him, it felt like a collar tightening about his throat. He could feel the fear wringing the very heart out of him.
Finally, he could take no more, and so he rose numbly and walked across the room and pulling the door open he stepped out into the dark night, and just as quietly pulled the door shut. He was bloody well wrung out; he had to get away from his fears. He would go down and muck out the sheep barn in the bloody dark if he had too. Slowly he headed down the hill to the shed, and tried not to feel like the coward he was as he ran from her pain.
James stopped to look up at the star strewn sky. He let the sky’s beauty sooth him. He had always felt particularly close to the night sky, though he couldn’t say why, and tonight was no different. The blue-black sky seemed to wrap around him like an old friend and he breathed a deep sigh of relieve. The soft breeze cooled his sweat drenched shirt, and he realized he would do his wife more good, by not spooking himself.
Overhead he saw a falling star; he felt a moment of alarm, for it seemed to be coming straight on toward him. Then he shook his head and laughed out loud, even though the star continued to grow in brightness, he remembered many such star falls none had ever landed near him. He took his pipe from his pocket and grasped the cold stem between his teeth. Above he could just make out the star’s shape as it began to pass overhead; he turned to watch as it passing but suddenly the light flickered out, and it was gone from his view. James stood considering the strange behavior of the star as he clicked the pipe stem between his teeth. Shaking his head in wonder, he turned and finished his walk to the sheep shed.
***
Reval and Hectain held Meredith’s barely conscious body in their arms. It had been an exhausting night for them all, but especially for Meredith and the baby. Even with the fires roaring away and the energetic help of many of the Corvine tribe, who were using the fires as a window into this world, the child was not yet born, and both she and her mother were trembling with fatigue illness and exhaustion.
“Sister,” Reval said. Nervously she wrung her hands together. “What are we going to do? They are both so distressed and worn down from the hours of labor. Perhaps we need to send for the human’s midwife, after all?”
Hectain wiped her sweating face and glared at her older sibling. “Why so they can both be hung by morning in a witch’s trial! No! The midwife can’t help them; we must remain resolved sister to save both the child and our sister. Stoke up the fire, and let’s call for father’s help. His power must be greater than the babe’s power to stay within the womb.”
Reval tired out from the long magical struggle, walked over to the fireplace. It took what seemed to her, a great deal of physical energy to throw the first log on the fire. Kneeling down she reached for the second log when there came a great whoosh in the room, and the flames was suddenly doused, filling the air with hot ash. As the pressure in the room changed dramatically, Reval felt herself pushed to the floor. She tried to rouse herself, enough to make a spell of light to see what was happening, but her exhaustion was too great and she fell unconscious.
Hectain had felt the pressure change coming, long before the fire extinguished and she had thrown herself over Meredith to save her from whatever was coming. Lifting herself off Meredith as gently as she could, she cast a spell of illumination and found that Gwenth lay in a jumble on the floor at the foot of the bed, along with what appeared to be a young male fairy.
Stepping quickly over the fairy, Hectain shook Gwenth by the shoulder. “Child, child wake up.”
Gwenth sluggishly came too. “What, where am I,” she asked? Just as suddenly, she became aware she was in her parent’s sleeping room. Gwenth jumped up, “We made it Briok! We made it!”
She turned to where Briok lay on the floor and stopped just as suddenly. Before her laid out on the bed was Meredith. Naked from the waist down, her night gown was pushed up around her bare waist. She was heavy with child. Gwenth turned to Hectain. “How can that be, I have only been gone two days.”
Hectain assisted Gwenth in trying to rouse Briok. “Oh dear he seems to have hit his head. Leave him for now. Let him rest. I sense he’s fine.” Hectain retrieved a clean cloth and wetting it, laid it on his head. “Don’t worry child his vitals are strong, he will be fine.
It was then Hectain noticed Reval’s crumbled body lying unnaturally still near the fire place. An unearthly groan escaped Hectain, as she hurried towards her fallen sister. Even before she touched her she knew Reva
l was gone. Even so Hectain wanted to turn her sister over and look upon her face one last time. Hectain tried to be gentle as she rolled her sister over.
“Well you sure took your time about that.”
“Sister, I thought for sure you were dead,” Hectain cried. Reaching down she pulled her sister to her bosom.
“I would have been, or perhaps I was, but I landed on this little friend and she helped me through it.” Reval opened her hand and exposed the translating stone. “Hectain, please meet Gwenth’s travel partner. She told me, she is called Dembys.”
Hectain looked down in awe at the small crystal. She could feel the stone’s liveliness, even from where she stood. “You can communicate with the stone, sister? She helped you? I’ve never met any traveling crystals, but father has spoken of them in the old stories.”
“Please convey my greetings to your sister,” Dembys said to Reval. She brightened a little as she spoke. “I see Gwenth and Briok are both fine, but as I feared it is not a moment too soon for our arrival.”
“Dembys you’re ok!” Gwenth hurried over to the sisters and reached out took the stone gently into her own hand.
“Yes I am child and we have arrived in time, but barely. Retrieve Briok’s water flask and pour several drops into Meredith’s mouth.”
Gwenth looked strangely at the stone lying in the palm of her hand, but she didn’t make any effort to move. “I don’t think I want to help her. She surely is a witch for one thing and who knows whose child that is, or worse what that child is.” Her voice grew cold, as she stared down at the Dembys.
Hectain and Reval stared at the audacious child. “Please, we beg you child, if you can help our sister, do it now.” they cried out desperately.
Dembys glowed hot in the young woman’s hand. “Gwenth, you need to save the woman and her child, she too has a part to play in saving both your and Briok’s future. If you are too angry for even that, let it be for the love of your father that you do this thing, remember always follow your heart child, not your fear. Now, please take the water to them. It’s nearly too late even now!”
Gwenth listened to Dembys’ words and tried to quell her fears. She knew this woman was loved dearly by her father. She remembered the sadness at the loss of her own mother, and realized that her father might not survive another loss so deep. She slipped Dembys into Reval’s hands and hurried to loosen the flask from Briok’s waist. Grabbing the flask, she ran to the head of the bed and saw the strain on Meredith’s face, the fight to birth this child had destroyed Meredith’s youthful vivaciousness. It was clear from her skin with its gray pallor that Meredith, herself was close to death. The sheets lay about her in a bloody sweaty tangle. Death had very nearly won and Gwenth could see that even now, Meredith was slipping away. Gwenth felt pity rise up in her heart for Meredith, and her unborn babe. Pulling the stopper that held the flask tightly closed, she poured a generous amount of the healing waters into Meredith’s slack mouth.
In the Land of the Dead
Meredith meanwhile had slipped away from the sleeping room and was carrying the small bundle, slogging through thick mud, up a narrow rocky pass, deep in the dark mountains of the world of Corvine. She knew it was the witching hour, and she knew she was late, she should have been through the pass by now, but she was so tired. The bundle was squirming and as she sat down, she laid it down on the muddy ground, so she could rest. Above her she heard a humming sound, it grew louder but she felt unafraid. Perhaps it was the end, she could not see clearly in the deep gloom of the night. She gathered the bundle into her lap. If it was time to go, then she would take the bundle. She already knew she could not be parted from it. The hum began to cause the air around her to vibrate. Louder and closer it came. The land began to vibrate as well and a light began to grow up around her, illuminating the landscape. She could see now, the mountainside and valley lay scorched and dead all around her. The color of the sky was ashen. She recognized the landscape and realized that she was in the land of the dying. The bundle in her lap cried out, and she pulled back the blanket to see a healthy pink skinned baby girl. The child smiled adoringly up at her. Even in the poor half-light, the child’s blue eyes twinkled. Tears ran down Meredith’s face, for she realized this was her daughter, and she had brought the babe, with her as she lay dying, but the child was vibrant, it was clearly not the child’s time to die. Meredith realized then that she would have to return the child to the land of the living before she traveled on. Meredith waited, gauging her timing to coincide with the next wave, she could feel it coming. The humming sound was peaking, washing all through the land of the dying.
Meredith took a deep breath then, and suddenly she was back in the cabin, lying in the tangle of bloody sheets.
“She’s back. Hurry help her,” Gwenth cried out!
Hectain and Reval raced to the foot of the bed. The babe was ready, emerging from the womb. The babe let go of her death grip upon her mother’s womb, as Reval pulled on the child’s feet, the babe slipped easily into her waiting arms.
Meredith lay crying. Silently the tears rolled down her cheeks. She ignored her sisters, as they worked to free the child; clearly some bit of her was still caught in the land of the dying. She cried for, she had been at the edge where pain no longer sings out its jarring melody, where it could no longer tear at the heart and soul of a woman, but she had returned for the child and now she was once again trapped in a world where pain would spend its power trying to separate her from her will and her joy. She didn’t think she had the strength to fight it, and she didn’t want to fight anymore. She only wanted to lay her head down and rest, forever.
Reval cleaned and swaddled the child with nothing more than a flick of her fingers before handing the child to Hectain.
Hectain received the dark haired baby, and carrying it lightly, she stepped close to the fireplace, and beseeched the embers to rise up, into another fire. The logs responded by leaping into brilliant blue flames. The fire snapped and crackled brightly and warmed the room, bringing all of it back into the light.
Hectain leaned down in front of the fireplace, and turned the swaddled bundle to face the flames. “They are safe and the child is born,” she said.
Gwenth felt a cold fear grip her when she saw what was taking place, but that fear compared to nothing like the fear she experienced when bird faces began to appear in the flames. The birds, they looked like crows to Gwenth began to cry out, stirring up quite a racket, but the baby just laughed and cooed at them. Hectain turned back towards the room then and made her way to the bed where Meredith lay exhausted. Hectain put the laughing child into Meredith’s arms so that it could suckle at her breast.
Meredith looked down at the pink skinned baby lying in her arms and as the child locked its mouth upon her breast, she felt the first pull of the suckling child, and Meredith recognized that the long glorious rest that death promised would have to wait a while longer. She looked from the baby to Hectain’s smiling face and she felt a giggle bubble up within herself.
Gwenth felt a pressure on her wrist and looking down saw Meredith had reached out to touch her gently on the wrist. Gwenth leaned down towards the woman. “Can I get you something? Is there still pain, I have more water with me. Perhaps another drop or two would help.” Saying this Gwenth reached for the flask.
“I don’t know whether I really need it.”
Gwenth stopped and looked hard at Meredith, considering. “Well perhaps not, but then again, another drop or two might help you to heal faster, so please take more. The child will want much of you in the coming days and you will need all your strength, and I have come back but only for a short time because I too, need ask your help.”
Meredith watched the girl as she spoke, and she listened to the undercurrent of the young woman’s voice as well. The girl had seen much, that was obvious, but she sensed Gwenth’s magic still lay sleeping deep inside her. Even so it was clear Gwenth had changed, or perhaps it was herself that had changed while the girl was gon
e. Just thinking on it all made her head hurt. “I think you are right, the child will need me, and I believe I am still partially caught in the land of the dead.”
Gwenth uncorked the bottle and handed the bottle to Meredith to take a drink. Gwenth watched, fascinated by the accelerated rate of Meredith’s healing. Right before her eyes, Meredith’s features softened, relinquishing the strain that had marked Meredith’s face. Her age lines simply disappeared. The lines were replaced with a brilliant radiance, a glow which seemed to originate from beneath her step-mothers pale skin. Meredith’s hair that had somehow gone grey, while Gwenth was away, began to darken, returning to its natural wavy blue-black highlights. A twinkle came back into Meredith’s eyes, causing the dark pupils to dilate, and her voice which had just moments ago sounded course and gravely from the strain of so many birth cries, healed completely. Gwenth heard Meredith’s laugh ring out, filling the sleeping room with a sound that was pure honey even to her ears.
“You were right, Gwenth. I did need the second dose. I don’t know what this magic water is, but thank you child, for bringing it in time to save my daughter,” Meredith said. Effortlessly she pulled herself upright in bed. “Sisters help me.” Meredith called out to her sisters, as she handed the infant into Gwenth’s arms.
Hectain and Reval turned and stood in shock as their youngest sibling rose from the bed, and pulled her soiled nightgown off over her head. Hectain understood instantly. She snapped her fingers and the bed was magically made up with fresh sheets, while the bloodied ones disappeared, leaving behind only a faint whiff of lavender hanging in the air.
Meredith rummaged in her trunk for a fresh nightshirt and pulling it quickly over her head she strode purposefully across to the older women, plucking the baby up from Gwenth’s arms, as she walked past her. Meredith gazed down on the beautiful child. Her daughter was perfect. She lifted the babe up to breathe on her; blessing her with her own breath. “We will name her as soon as James comes in. In the meantime she said looking down at where the fairy’s body lay crumpled on the floor, I think we may have to hide this young fellow’s wings,” and she waggled her fingers in the air.
REALM'S END (BOOK OF FEY 1) Page 15
