The Moonshawl: A Wraeththu Mythos Novel

by Storm Constantine

  I could see this clearly in my mind’s eye and described it to my companions. The entity was sometimes like a serpent of smoke, close to the ground, at other times walking upright like a har, or on all fours like a dog. It filled the landscape with its presence, holding within its fabric the hurts of centuries. I could sense Peredur inside it, the part of him forever nailed and chained to a stake in the stableyard of Meadow Mynd. I could sense Vivi, a cold female presence, full of vengeance and righteousness, who saw herself as the righter of wrongs. But these were only two parts of an immense company, not simply those who had died terrible deaths during the Devastation, but humans from earlier times, killed by parents, lovers, siblings, strangers on the road, criminals, senseless justice, warfare and disease. All these despairing souls had been supped upon by the ysbryd drwg, for it believed they belonged with it.

  And now as the Dog Star ruled the heavens, and the heat conjured ghosts in the day, it had come to take what had been promised to it; the son of the Wyvachi. I did not believe this entity would suddenly manifest before us and hurt Myv physically. Its influence was more insidious than that. But it would come to taste, and leave its mark, and later some accident might befall Myv, perhaps weeks afterwards, when hara might think that nothing bad would happen. A scythe in the fields, a poisoned nail in the straw, a bolt of lightning, a maddened horse. There are many ways to kill a har. We might be strong, but we are neither invulnerable nor immortal.

  Verdiferel stirred upon the rock by the pool. I could see him at the edge of my vision even with my eyes open. He stood up, quivering, facing away from us. The ysbryd drwg was trickling through the trees, leaves blackening and falling dead as it touched them. Verdiferel stretched his body, his arms high, welcoming this diseased power.

  ‘Embrace it, my lord, it is yours,’ I whispered.

  In mind touch, but ‘audible’ to my companions, I asked Peredur, Is the water spirit with us and ready?

  Yes, he replied. Here as it always has been. There was no mistaking the affection in the flavour of his thoughts.

  To all of them I sent the instructions: When Verdiferel takes the ysbryd into himself, see the moonshawl tighten around him like bonds of unbreakable silk. Visualise that we get to our feet and push him into the water, that the spirit there takes hold of him and contains him. Try to visualise this without violence, that the spirit’s embrace is unbreakable but not harmful.

  Then...? Rinawne asked.

  I didn’t have time to reply because, at that moment, the force of the ysbryd drwg collided with Verdiferel. The impact sent a blast of sound through my mind, like clashing rocks and the discordant howl of a war trumpet combined. It took all my effort not to open my eyes. ‘Keep focused within the vision,’ I told the group aloud. ‘Don’t falter.’

  The force of the egregore pounded into the dehar, enlarging him. He stood as tall as the trees now and still that dark energy flowed into him. Peredur chanted softly words of the ancient language, that I could barely hear or understand, but we all caught the rhythm of it and joined our voices to his. Between us, our own power began to form and rise in a spiral of pale white light.

  I had to choose the exact moment for us to bind Verdiferel. I was sure it was nearly time, just mere seconds away – silver ripples had begun to form upon the surface of the pool – when suddenly Verdiferel emitted a roar, which sounded like an immense bell shattering. Before we could react, he bounded away from us through the trees.

  Our visualisation splintered like crystal, and the weave of our combined energy broke up and scattered.

  ‘What the...?’ Rinawne cried.

  ‘No!’ Myv cried.

  ‘Follow him,’ I ordered. ‘Now!’

  We had no choice but to open our eyes and pursue what in the waking world would most likely be invisible to us.

  ‘Peredur, you guide us,’ I snapped. ‘Myv, take Peredur’s hand so he doesn’t have to concentrate on the physical world. Lead him!’

  Without further delay, I got to my feet and ran after the dehar, pushing through foliage and shrubs that seemed to bend towards me to hinder my passage. Peredur was at my side, barking directions at Myv. I could hear the others following. Verdiferel must not get away from us, not now we’d helped him engorge with the power of the ysbryd drwg. There was no sense of the gentle, benevolent ysbryddon garedig during that desperate pursuit, only the hectic rush of our chase, and dark vortexes of power spinning round us. Ropes of dark purple smoke, sibilant hissing, the yelp of unearthly predators.

  ‘He’s making for the fields beside the river,’ Peredur said, ‘probably the Maes Siôl, the river field.’

  I could sense this too. As we ran, I glanced up and saw the white owl in the sky, its gigantic glowing wings spread against the night. ‘The owl is our guide,’ I yelled. ‘Follow it, Myv, it’ll lead us to its master.’

  The end of the trees was in sight. I could see a strange ruddy glow ahead.

  ‘Something’s burning,’ Arianne said.

  I could smell it – the reek of burned grass, which became stronger as we ran. We emerged from the trees and kept running. We had to clamber over two hedges to reach the Maes Siôl. I could see that it was on fire. There was, in fact, a ring of flame. I could just perceive, within the black smoke that issued from it, a shadowy figure in its midst. Verdiferel was slowing down. I could feel the pulse of his movement within me. I realised he hadn’t run away from us; somehar else had called him. Somehar, or a number of hara, were enacting their own rite in the Maes Siôl, and I felt sure this wasn’t a simple Reaptide event.

  I signalled for my companions to stop, spreading my arms to keep them behind me. ‘What can you tell us?’ I asked Peredur.

  ‘Another har summoned the ysbryd drwg,’ he said, as I’d known he would. ‘It feels like a Wyvachi.’

  ‘It’s Wyva!’ Rinawne cried. ‘Dear Aru, it is! I know!’

  ‘We must go to him,’ Myv said, in a panicked tone, and made to run towards the fire, but I grabbed hold of him and kept him back.

  ‘Not yet!’

  ‘It’ll kill him!’ Myv wailed.

  I shook him a little. ‘Hush, we’ll not help by blundering in. And it won’t kill him immediately.’ I looked at Peredur, then reached for his hand. ‘Well?’

  Peredur raised his other hand and pointed at the field, all the time his black stare on me. ‘Can you all see that? With your living eyes, I mean?’

  ‘Yes,’ Nytethorne murmured.

  ‘Dear God,’ Arianne whispered.

  Yes, they could see it. Ahead of us, the looming figure that was the transformed Verdiferel had stepped into the ring of fire. The flames cowered low before him. Our combined will, plus the potent mesh of energy contained within the ysbryd drwg, was strong enough to manifest the dehar in reality. I’d seen nothing like this before. Verdiferel was as tall as the greatest of oaks, with rags of clothing and hair whipping around him.

  ‘Peredur, help Wyva,’ Rinawne hissed. ‘For Aru’s sake, we must...’

  ‘Hush,’ Peredur said. ‘Go closer, but slowly. Join hands. Don’t let go of each other.’

  We obeyed his words.

  I saw Wyva har Wyvachi standing in his fragile temple of fire with the egregore looming over him. It was no longer merely our invoked dehar, but something far larger, far more distant, yet obscenely close. This creature turned to the side, so Wyva would not be able to see its face. Neither could we. Then it began to emit a roaring, booming sound that was the essence of fear, despair and hopelessness. This was a sound that nohar should hear; it made death seem benign. Everyhar in the county must be able to hear it.

  ‘Beansidhe,’ Rinawne murmured.

  ‘What?’ Arianne asked him.

  ‘The cruellest spirit. If you see her, if you hear her, she takes somehar. We mustn’t see...’

  As Rinawne spoke, the egregore began to turn around to face Wyva, all the while emitting that foul noise.

  ‘No!’ Myv cried, fighting against my hold.

  Unab
le to wait any longer, Rinawne released the hands he held and raced across the field, waving his arms in the air, shouting, ‘Verdiferel! This way! Look this way!’

  Myv struggled like a hysterical cat in my grasp and screamed, ‘Let me go, Ysobi. Those are my hara there. Let me go!’

  The edge of one of Peredur’s hands slammed down on my wrist, numbing it. Myv broke free. ‘Let him act,’ Peredur said. ‘It’s his fight.’

  Perhaps Verdiferel, deep within the egregore, this fully manifested ysbryd drwg, had heard Rinawne’s cry. He’d paused, his body stooped. But then, slowly, he began to turn once more.

  Arianne said softly, ‘Vivi’s in that thing. I can feel her. She’s here.’ She too ran after Rinawne and Peredur followed her.

  I glanced at Nytethorne, who shrugged.

  ‘Go after them?’ he suggested.

  We did so, but more cautiously. I needed to gauge what would happen. If the rest of them panicked, only Nytethorne and I could hold things together.

  Everything seemed to move in slow motion: the running figures, the silhouette in the centre of the circle of fire, held motionless in shock. I saw Wyva’s face through the smoke and flames, soot-streaked, wild, nothing like I’d ever seen him. I could see he had steeled himself to fight, perhaps die. Now he could see his chesnari and son running towards him, no doubt thinking this was an illusion and they weren’t really there. A trick to lure him from his protective circle.

  While all this was happening, Verdiferel turned to face us fully, but only Nytethorne and I, maybe Peredur, had our attention on him. He held to his features a white mask, expressionless, not fearsome at all. Behind him, it appeared Wyva had realised Myv and Rinawne were real and not deceiving phantoms. He was shouting at them, gesticulating, urging them to leave.

  Of course, they took no notice. Once they reached Wyva, they flung themselves upon him, protecting him with their bodies. The moonshawl, spreading from Myv’s body, seemed to cover them all, gleaming like mercury.

  The white mask of Verdiferel stared at me, ignoring the drama behind him. Then, almost casually, he drew the mask from his face. I was ready for anything but... There was stillness between us. Seconds that extended for hours. Behind the mask... there was nothing. Nothing at all. I saw a black void extending away forever. The hideous sounds issued from it, as if from a great distance. And yet even within that nothingness I perceived a cruel smile. The ysbryd drwg had shown me its face. I remembered the fear Rinawne had spoken of, that gut deep, primal fear. I could feel it scrabbling within me like a trapped animal. But then I thought: I’ve seen your face before. I’ve fallen into that void. Yet here I am. Let’s see what happens.

  The ysbryd drwg appeared to study me for a moment, perhaps curious in its inconceivable way, then, almost shrugging, it removed its attention from me, and turned to confront those in the centre of the flames. Easier prey. They seemed pitiful, helpless, a bundle of writhing bodies. Wyva was trying to fight off Myv and Rinawne; they were determined to hold him down.

  Arianne had paused at the edge of the circle. She had raised her arms, her head flung back.

  Peredur stood motionless just ahead of Nytethorne and me. He appeared to be assessing what he perceived before him. When we caught up with him, I grabbed hold of his arm. ‘What do we do?’ I snapped. ‘Peredur, ideas, something! Please, for Aru’s sake.’

  ‘We must...’ Peredur began.

  Then Arianne’s voice rang out, ‘No, Vivi, no! For the love of your children, hear me! Look at me!’

  I thought at first her voice would have no effect. For a few agonising moments: nothing. And then the towering ysbryd drwg straightened up, became motionless. It was listening to her: the dead that walked it did not own.

  You have its attention! I sent to her, hoping to all the dehara she heard me. Reach Vivi, call her from it.

  ‘Vivi, you know me,’ Arianne cried. ‘It’s Arianne. Look at me. Remember me!’

  For a moment, an immense flickering image of Vivi’s face appeared in the yawning maw of the ysbryd drwg. A wavering voice slithered from it. All women are dead... There is no Arianne. Then the image faded.

  ‘That’s not true,’ Arianne said, her voice steady. ‘Come forth, Vivi. Listen to me. Just listen.’

  I could sense Arianne’s compassion and calm, her determination to remain this way, not to falter. She had not been able to save her family from Wraeththu aggression, nor Peredur from mutilation. She had, once, not been able to save herself. But now... I was awed by her resolve, which was as hard as the ancient stone of the mountains. ‘See me here,’ she said in a low fierce voice. ‘Try to touch me, ysbryd drwg. But you cannot kill the dead, can you? I’ll take back what is mine.’ She raised her voice. ‘Vivi! Follow my words. See the shining rope of sound. Come to me. I’m waiting.’

  For a moment, only stillness, but then the flickering image of Vivi appeared once more in void of the ysbryd drwg.

  ‘The past is done, Vivi,’ Arianne said firmly, ‘yet our family lives on. Meadow Mynd still stands. The cows graze in the meadows. The crops grow. Our descendents thrive. There are still men and women, but just in a different way. And look how strong they are, how brave, how beautiful. A child would give her life for her parents. Would you destroy all this? Wasn’t peace what you really wanted?’

  Persuasiveness, and a simple, strong conviction of truth, rang out from Arianne’s voice. This was her task. Failing it was inconceivable to her; she gave over her entire being to victory. I admired the way she spoke of Myv as female, which of course, he half was. If Vivi could taste the essence of Myv, she’d find the feminine within him. But she wasn’t yet ready to try.

  Our family is gone... Vivi hissed. Only lies and misshapen abominations remain. I must kill them.

  ‘No,’ Arianne said. ‘You mustn’t. Our family isn’t gone, it’s simply changed, that’s all.’ She pointed at the group within the fire circle. ‘That’s your great grandson over there and his daughter too. And here...’ She turned briefly to Peredur, who was like a white statue at my side. ‘Here is your grandson, Peredur. After all you did to him, he survived, because it was meant.’

  I did not survive, nor did your daughters... All our people died.

  Arianne shook her head. ‘No, not all. What happened was horrific, a foul fever that gripped the world. We were done, Vivi. Humanity’s time was over. The world was dying, and so were we. We would have destroyed everything. Our ending was unspeakable – but did we not call this on ourselves? We had become a disease, an infection. The badness had to be let out, and it was. It exploded in a disgusting torrent. But then the wounds of the world could heal. We healed. Made new. Look into my heart and see this truth. See if you find any shred of anger or grief inside me.’

  Traitor! Vivi hissed. You joined them! You betrayed me!

  ‘No,’ Arianne answered firmly. ‘In fact, I died. I took my own life in Dŵr Alarch, because I could no longer bear to live, but my body was never found. You know why? Because the world, the universe, or God, or merely the simple pattern of life – whatever you want to call it – meant for me to come back and talk to you now. I was taken somewhere, stored like a prayer, a wish, a hope – then allowed back. Here I am.’ She held out her hands. ‘You can leave that painful nest, Vivi. You can be with me, and we can go somewhere else. Together. I’m here to free you. Break away from the darkness. Come to me!’

  For a brief moment, the form of the ysbryd drwg wavered, and then I saw a small, twisting shadow fall from its face like a rag. This scrap fell slowly, coiling on the air, before landing softly on the burned ground. Here, it rested, fretted as if by a breeze. Then slowly it rose up, inflated, until it resolved into the wavering form of a woman, who stood upon the field, just ahead of Arianne. Vivi: a disorientated, confused woman, her hands to her face. She appeared unaware of where she was and how she’d got there.

  The ysbryd drwg bellowed its rage at Vivi being pulled from its fabric. Its dire voice grew louder. I knew it was ready to pounce.
>
  There was one perfect moment of complete stillness, then the world exploded into chaos.

  The ring of flame flared up, its tongues of fire hungry and wild. Talons of flame scampered out across the field in strangely liquid trails. Verdiferel’s body exploded into a multitude of owls, not white now but black, with blood-red feet and eyes. Feathers burst from them in a storm of darkness and the voice of the ysbryd drwg became a hellish choir. The owls swooped around us, snagging us with their claws and beaks, uttering hoarse screams no bird could possibly make. The owl is traditionally a symbol of wisdom; these owls were merely cruelty.

  Arianne stood tall, heedless of the vicious strikes upon her. She was still calling Vivi’s name, holding out her bloodied hands. ‘Come to me, Vivi. I’m here. Take my hands.’

  Slowly, Vivi did so, taking the stumbling steps of an invalid.

  I saw Arianne grab hold of her, pull her close, protecting them both from the vicious claws.

  ‘Come’, Peredur said to me. In the weird light he appeared calm, sure, and gestured at the hara within the ring of flame. ‘It is they who need us.’

  I glanced back at Arianne and Vivi, who were at that moment taking on the full might of the attack. I couldn’t just leave them to deal with that, but knew also I had to trust Peredur now. All I could do was project to the women a blast of energy, a pitiful shield.

  ‘Come!’ Peredur commanded, and walked unfalteringly towards the group within the circle of flame. I followed him, Nytethorne at my side.

  When I reached the centre, Wyva stared at me with wide, wild eyes: furious. I could hear him thinking: You brought my son here! My chesnari! You! With a Whitemane and dehara know what other oddities!

  Myv saw me and tried to shout through the cacophony: ‘It’s time. We must turn the birds. Help me turn the birds.’

  Peredur took his hand. ‘Yes. Turn the birds.’ His voice was only a whisper, yet I heard it. ‘All of us,’ he said, louder. ‘Make the circle.’

  ‘Arianne!’ I called, but Peredur put a hand on my arm.