The Serpent in the Glass (The Tale of Thomas Farrell)

by D. M. Andrews

  A squat, green-skinned warrior dressed in black leather armour jumped down from a rock, narrowly missing Thomas’s head. But the strange warrior didn’t seem to see him, and ran toward the mass of the battle, a curved sword swinging in its short arms.

  Thomas looked around. The grassy field, punctuated with large boulders and rocks, played host to a ferocious battle. Many of the green-skinned warriors dotted the field in groups of several hundred each, screaming and slashing at enemies with their scimitars. Every now and again Thomas saw large grey-skinned men with larger swords or maces who appeared to be on the same side as the green-skinned fighters. Their opponents seemed to be men, brown-haired men who wore little in the way of armour. These latter were falling back before the onslaught. Then there was a disturbance among the men and then a cheer. Others, taller than them, were pushing to the front line and, at their head, a man with long hair that shone the colour of the moon, and eyes like emeralds.

  But before Thomas could see any more, he was somewhere else. On the edge of the battlefield perhaps. The baying of dogs sounded in his ears, and then the beasts burst out from a wooded area up ahead. They were too far away to tell their actual size, but Thomas could see they were much bigger than normal dogs. Then, behind them, emerged a chariot driven by a figure wearing great antlers upon his head.

  The dogs stopped not a hundred yards from where Thomas stood clinging to a large boulder, as if it could defend him against such foes. The huge hounds bayed, but now their attention seemed fixed on something else, something behind Thomas. He turned and swallowed hard. The giant serpent stood, extended to its greatest height, not a stone’s throw away. It seemed larger now than Thomas ever remembered.

  The chariot paused momentarily before charging forward, flanked by the dogs. The serpent shrieked and thrust itself forward at tremendous speed, its wings flapping like great sails. Thomas could feel the rush of air they generated, he could smell the stale sweat of the massive dogs as they plunged toward him. He was trapped. Still gripping its broken form, he pressed himself against the boulder and awaited his doom.

  ‘And this is the end of the tale,’ Master Fabula finished as Thomas opened his eyes and found himself clinging not to a boulder, but to the large beanbag he sat upon. Everyone clapped as the torches and fire flared up again and chased away the shadows. Fabula stood, bowed, and sat down again. ‘Now, are there any questions?’

  Thomas pulled his hand from his marble bag and silently rebuked himself for being so foolish as to let his hand wander. He looked around. No one appeared to have noticed his daydream — if it was a daydream.

  One of the younger girls, a Humbalgog judging by her brown hair, put her hand up and asked what the horses looked like. Master Fabula answered and told her they were snowy white with mottled manes. Several other questions followed, most of them about how things looked. Then Thayer put his hand up.

  ‘Yes, Master Gaul?’ Master Fabula crossed his legs.

  Thayer put his hand down, but was slow to ask his question. ‘Were the Fomorfelk all killed?’

  Master Fabula frowned and paused before he answered. ‘I’m very much afraid they were if my memory serves me well, and it normally does.’

  Thayer nodded and seemed to accept the answer, but Thomas thought he saw a little sorrow in the boy’s normally expressionless face.

  ‘They were too dumb to run like the Hobs!’ Slayne Dretch’s voice cut through the room. Several of the cadets around him sniggered.

  Fabula’s black eyes settled upon Slayne. ‘Or too proud perhaps, Master Dretch?’ The laughing stopped.

  No one else raised their hand and Master Fabula, after exhaling one final large puff of smoke, dismissed the class, at which point the carved door swung open apparently of its own free will.

  Everyone headed for the door except Thomas. Master Fabula had turned toward the fire and seemed unaware that one of his students hadn’t yet left.

  Thomas coughed. ‘Master Fabula?’

  ‘Yes?’ The teacher turned around, smiling and blinking his eyes —

  eyes whose whiteness contrasted so completely with his coal-black skin and dark pupils that, even after knowing him for some time, Thomas still felt a slight aversion to the storyteller’s appearance. Was this how Mrs Westhrop felt when she saw Thomas without his contact lenses?

  Thomas brushed away his apprehension. ‘Why did Arghadmon have a serpent on his banner?’

  Master Fabula placed a black hand on the mantelpiece. ‘It was the symbol of his lineage. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Oh,’ Thomas said feeling stupid, ‘it’s just that there’s a lot of images of serpents about.’ He didn’t feel the need to tell Fabula about the Glass.

  ‘That is because this Academy, or the buildings we now call the Academy, once belonged to Arghadmon and were indeed built by him, young Master Farrell,’ Fabula explained. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must prepare my recounting of the Siege of Nieberheim for my next class.’ And with that he turned back to the fire and became lost in thought and billows of pipe smoke.

  ‘What were you talking about?’ Jessica asked as Thomas left the Hall of Tales, the door closing behind him of its own accord.

  ‘Nothing much,’ he said. He’d still told no one about his dreams of the serpent. ‘He was just telling me about the founding of the Academy. It was built by Arghadmon.’

  ‘I wonder how he died?’ Merideah asked as they made their way back toward Darkledun Hall.

  ‘In a battle I expect,’ said Penders. ‘It must be horrible to die like that. No guns or explosions I guess, just swords and axes. Imagine being hacked down and chopped into —’

  ‘Yes, Penders,’ Jessica interrupted. ‘I won’t imagine if you don’t mind.’

  ‘He was slain by Cernunnos,’ Thayer said.

  The Fomorfelk must have rejoined them once he’d realized they’d lagged behind after class. No doubt he felt it part of his duty to stay with them, even though they all knew where to go to meet Stanwell.

  ‘What are guns?’ Thayer asked.

  Merideah put her hand to her chin. ‘You know what a crossbow is?’

  Thayer nodded. ‘Yes, I have used one before. A good weapon!’

  ‘Well,’ Merideah continued, ‘it’s a bit like a small crossbow that can fire lots of bolts very fast.’

  Thayer nodded again, a spark of wonder briefly crossing his deadpan face. It wasn’t the most accurate of descriptions, but probably the best any one of them could have given in a world that apparently hadn’t yet discovered gunpowder. Or perhaps, thought Thomas, such things wouldn’t work here, or weren’t wanted. Maybe this Old Power was greater than the science of his world?

  Thomas watched Thayer’s unmoving form disappear into the distance as the carriage sped north toward the Inner Gate. He liked the Fomorfelk. Slayne Dretch was right: they were going to get on well together.

  — CHAPTER EIGHTEEN —

  The Blood Parchment

  During the following week the weather grew colder, and by Saturday a frost covered the ground. It still lay unmelted by the time Thomas and the others arrived in the Gardens of Arghadmon. The squat, grey-eyed Thayer Gaul stood waiting by the fountain. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the frost and chill air. Their uniforms had been complemented by thick fur cloaks, but Thayer wore none.

  ‘I hope you’ve not been here since we left?’ Penders joked with a smile on his face as he jumped from the carriage.

  ‘Oh, no.’ Thayer looked at Penders quite seriously.

  Penders stopped smiling and looked at Thomas and the others as they stepped out of the carriage and gathered around.

  ‘Thayer, I meant to ask you something that’s been bothering me,’ Jessica began, staring at Thayer’s stone-grey eyes. ‘You said you were a Fomorfelk, but Master Fabula described them as grey-skinned.’

  ‘He said ashen-skinned, to be precise,’ Merideah corrected.

  Thomas had no recollection of Fabula saying any such thing. Maybe he’d been d
reaming during that part? The images, sounds and smells in that dream still loomed as vivid in his mind as any waking memory. He remembered the grey-skinned warriors cutting their way through the Humbalgog warriors. Perhaps Fabula’s tale had fed his imagination and triggered the dream; maybe Thayer’s description of Cernunnos upon a chariot, and his giant dogs, had added to it? How else could what he saw have been accurate, even down to the grey skin?

  Jessica nodded. ‘Yes, that was it.’ She turned back to Thayer. ‘Well, your skin looks quite normal to me.’

  ‘When I am older my skin will turn grey,’ Thayer explained.

  ‘And mine’ll turn blue a lot sooner if I stand in this garden much longer!’ complained Penders as he pulled his cloak tighter about him. ‘Besides, breakfast’s waiting!’

  Merideah shook her head as they all moved off toward Darkledun Hall. ‘So, Thayer. Where are we today?’

  Thayer looked at the small girl, apparently intrigued by her spectacles. ‘It is a free Saturday. After breakfast you can do anything you want before the carriage returns, as long as you do not wander outside the Academy. The High Cap strongly suggested the library.’

  ‘The library?’ Penders said in disgust, as they walked through the wooden portals.

  Thayer seemed most intrigued by the silver bells, and the food and drink they summoned to the table. Clearly this sort of thing wasn’t common even among the natives of Avallach. Thomas had so much he wanted to ask Thayer, but right now something else needed his attention before Dugan came for the tray and the Hall became busy.

  Thomas whipped out the Glass. ‘I think we can trust Thayer, don’t you?’

  The others nodded as Thayer looked from face to face and then at the Glass. A slight look of concern crossed his broad features.

  Jessica put a hand on the large boy’s shoulder. ‘We’re not leaving the Academy.’

  Thayer nodded slowly. He looked back at the Glass as Thomas stepped up to the far wall between the drapes, and the concern in his face turned to wonder as the orb began to glow. ‘What is that?’

  ‘Thomas’s dad gave it to him. It has some interesting abilities.’ Jessica urged Thayer toward the back of the Hall where the others had gathered. Thomas touched the orb against the wooden panels and, as before, the outline of a door appeared, winking out after a few moments to reveal the hidden chamber.

  The children piled in, followed by a more cautious Thayer Gaul. The stone podium stood alone in the room. At its top sat the old parchment.

  ‘What are we doing here?’ Thayer asked as he glanced about the room nervously.

  Thomas looked up at the blank parchment. ‘Testing a theory. Treice, can you get a chair?’

  Treice nodded and dashed out. He was back in seconds. Thomas took the chair from him and put it beneath the podium.

  Penders shot a look back into the Hall. ‘What now? Dugan will be back soon.’

  ‘Now we find out a bit more about who we are!’ Merideah pulled something from her robes. It was her prefect badge.

  Penders rolled his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Oh please, you can’t wear that! It isn’t going to impress Dugan or anyone.’

  Merideah ignored him and stood on the chair. ‘I’ll go first.’ She opened the badge and pricked a finger with the pin so that a small drop of blood appeared. Thomas winced. After pressing her finger to the parchment, she stepped back on the large chair so that the others could see. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but then a thin red line began to appear, stretching up the parchment and expanding into a great tree of names. Then, finally, two names a little larger than the rest appeared in the blood writing atop the page: Lios and Svart.

  ‘What does it mean?’ Penders asked.

  ‘It’s a family tree. My father and grandfather are here.’ Merideah pointed to the bottom of the parchment. ‘I don’t know who Lios and Svart are though. Thayer, have you heard the names before?’

  Thayer frowned. ‘I do not think so, but I am not the best person to ask. My skill is with more practical things. You could ask Taelon.’

  A few seconds later the tree and names on the parchment faded so that it lay blank again. Merideah jumped down and wiped the pin with a handkerchief. ‘Who’s next? Thayer? We know your race, so maybe we could use you as a sort of control experiment?’

  Thayer didn’t seem to know what Merideah was talking about, but he volunteered all the same. Removing a small knife from his robes he cut a small gash in his palm as the rest of the children, except Merideah, screwed up their faces.

  Thayer got up on the chair and let a few drops of blood fall onto the old paper. Thayer’s ancestry gradually filled the parchment and ended at the top with the name Tethra.

  Thayer clambered down and Merideah offered him her handkerchief. He stared at it blankly.

  ‘It wasn’t that emotional,’ Penders said.

  Merideah shook her head at Penders. ‘It’s for his hand, silly!’

  Penders grinned.

  Thayer declined the offer. He held up his hand. It had already stopped bleeding. ‘Tethra was the first king and father of the Fomorfelk.’

  ‘I thought as much,’ Merideah began. ‘So that’s how we tell what race we come from.’

  Penders went next and the Parchment showed the name of Humbal atop his tree. There wasn’t much doubt that Penders had Humbalgog blood in him, and so Humbal must’ve been the father of that people.

  Treice went back to Lios, the same name that had appeared on Merideah’s tree. As Treice had blue eyes and blond hair, it was likely Lios was the father of the Alfar.

  Thomas and Jessica stood either side of the chair as Treice stepped down. Treice went to hand the handkerchief and prefect badge to Thomas, but Thomas indicated toward Jessica instead.

  Treice awkwardly handed them over to Jessica, who smiled in gratitude. Treice removed himself to the doorway. ‘I’ll keep a look out for Dugan.’

  Jessica watched as the small pinprick of blood faded into the Blood Parchment. She waited, but nothing happened. A disappointed look on her face, she stepped down.

  Thomas stared at the blank parchment once he’d climbed up onto the chair. Pricking his thumb, he took a deep breath and pushed it down onto the base of the parchment. He waited, but the canvas remained quite blank. Thomas felt a sudden emptiness. He’d hoped to find out not only his race, but how his parents had fitted into it all. Miss Prowse would’ve been impressed!

  ‘I wonder why nothing happened for us?’ Jessica said to Thomas as they stepped out of the chamber and the wall reasserted itself. Thomas didn’t know. It made no sense.

  Merideah slipped her badge back into her cadet robes. ‘Perhaps we should do as the Headmaster suggested? One of those books in the library must say something about the Blood Parchment or the fathers of the races of Avallach.’

  Dugan appeared moments after they left the hidden chamber. He gave them a look through narrowed eyes before piling the bells, bowls, plates and goblets onto the tray. The children exited the Hall as Dugan shuffled off grumbling something about his workload.

  ‘I don’t see why we can’t use the Anywhere Lift,’ Penders complained as he puffed his way up the stairs.

  ‘The Headmaster said we can’t use it unless we’re with a teacher,’ Merideah reminded him.

  ‘Yeah, but no one would know if we used it, would they?’ Penders grinned at Merideah. ‘I remember seeing a landing zone on the roof.’

  ‘It only responds to the voice of the masters and mistresses of the Academy. Cadets cannot call it.’ Thayer’s words weren’t laboured. He seemed unaffected by the climb. Perhaps he was used to it.

  Penders sighed. ‘Not much use it going anywhere if you can’t use it. What we need’s an Anywhere and Anyone Lift!’

  ‘Or perhaps some exercise?’ said Jessica with a hint of sarcasm. Penders didn’t reply but focused on climbing the winding stairs instead.

  There were only a few cadets in the Darkledun Library when they walked in. Engrossed in writing or reading, the cade
ts didn’t notice the new arrivals.

  ‘No eating in this library either, Mr Penderghast,’ said a thin lady rearranging several books on a nearby shelf. It was Miss Parley, the Manor librarian and English teacher. Her glasses had gone and she had donned a long, grey dress.

  ‘Er — no — Miss Parley,’ Penders replied, taken aback at her appearance.

  ‘Quite right!’ said Jessica

  Miss Parley raised an eyebrow. ‘And no loud talking either, Miss Westhrop; whisper if you need to say anything.’

  Jessica’s face turned from a smile to a look of shock, followed by a dark frown. Penders swallowed a laugh, a look from Miss Parley ensuring it didn’t come up again.

  ‘The whole Manor works here!’ whispered Penders when they had passed the teacher.

  It did seem that way. Thomas wondered if any of the teachers at the Manor didn’t know of this place. Mr Goodfellow had certainly not known. They eventually found a large table near the centre of the room where the boys promptly sat down.

  ‘Right,’ Jessica said looking at a long list of categories on a notice on the side of a nearby bookshelf. ‘Historical books seem the most likely to go for. They’re in aisle Eight to Fourteen.’

  She looked at Thomas and the other boys. They didn’t move. ‘Merideah and myself will go then.’

  Penders and Treice nodded their approval at the girls doing the legwork. Thomas wanted to have a look around, but after the climb thought he might just let Jessica have her way this time. Thayer, quite unaffected by the climb, had a blank look on his face. It was impossible to tell what he thought at all, except that books didn’t seem to excite him very much.

  Jessica and Merideah returned after about ten minutes, with a book so large that it took both of them to carry it. Thomas poked Penders who woke suddenly from a slight doze. Merideah flashed a sharp look at Penders as Treice stood up, apparently uncomfortable at seeing Jessica and Merideah struggle. But it was Thayer who approached the girls and took the large book from them, and effortlessly placed it upon the table.