‘I believe so, I have heard that the meaning is the Old Tartar,’ she replied archly. I made a hasty exit.
*
The Triple Moons were enveloped by dark clouds when the tree woman walked from the cottage. She lifted her slender, leaf-lined arms to the sky and began her blessings to the earth. Instantly she was surrounded by a myriad of flashing lights as the Faery kingdom burst forth in primal response to her ritual.
‘Yi, Mother Earth, from a seed you gave me birth. Ray of light of moon and sun from your womb, my time has come. In my mother’s arms I lie. Yi! Yi! Yi!’
The earth elementals rose from the soil as the tree woman chanted. They writhed in their thousands around her, clothed only in mud and sticks and clay. They had come to pay homage from many worlds. There was an eerie silence as the tree woman raised her thin leafy branch-arms toward the triple moons. Nearby, hidden in the shadows, the Stag Man watched in silence. He sniffed the air with nostrils that flared golden flames. The Solumbi were near; the Dark Angels’ Queen was summoning their forces. His head turned sharply, sensing their presence, distracted from the tree woman’s ritual.
‘Before the Dreamers slept, I was!’ he bellowed in challenge to the darkness.
The breeze returned only a faint trace of female laughter, mocking him. The elementals and the tree woman began to dance faster, ever faster. There were only a few hours remaining before dawn merged with and overtook the night. They had to dance with the earth, communicate with it; they had to reach Persephone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
‘Come on, sleepy bones!’ Khartyn called. ‘Brighid awaits!’
I woke with a start. I had enjoyed the most relaxed sleep I had had since my arrival in Eronth. After a hasty wash in the tiny white bathroom, which was adorned with shells of a species I had never seen before, I dressed in the long, rose-pink dress that Rosedark had loaned me, feeling faintly ridiculous. Rosedark didn’t seem to mind sharing her clothes, but they suited her far better than me. I felt like an extra on a Star Wars set. Khartyn had promised that we would shortly visit the markets in Faia, the nearest village to us, where I could pick up a few pieces for myself. I wondered uncomfortably how I was going to pay for them.
I could feel my identity slipping further away from me in the unfamiliar clothes. What I wouldn’t give to see my faded old Levi’s now! I pinned my hair up on top of my head as best I could and joined Khartyn and Rosedark at the small kitchen table.
A delicious meal had been prepared: hot rolls with fresh honey and a warm brew that Khartyn called esteo. It was similar to coffee but had a flavour recalling hazelnuts and vanilla. From the wooden beams in the small kitchen floated the odours of an assortment of herbs. Khartyn and Rosedark, both dressed in red gowns, were finishing their meal as I entered. Khartyn was flicking through a newspaper as I sat down. From what I knew of the old woman, her love of reading newspapers and doing crossword puzzles seemed strangely out of character. As I ate they began to hurry back and forth, preparing the items they were taking with them, occasionally chiding me to hurry and all the while readying the ilkamas that would be used to transport us to the Blest Circle of Nine.
In the brief time I had spent in Dome Cottage I had become extremely fond of the five ilkamas that Khartyn owned. They were magical little beasts, gentle and very loyal. As I poured myself a second cup of esteo I tried to mentally liken them to a terrestrial animal, but couldn’t settle on one to my satisfaction. It hardly mattered. Everything that had existed for me before the present moment no longer seemed as important, or even as real.
Rosedark had already saddled up the ilkamas, who were standing in the garden waiting for us, looking self-importantly at the remaining two, who had not been chosen to carry us to Candlemas. The saddle was a strange contraption, made of thick foam and covered in red velvet, that was extremely comfortable to sit upon. I patted the neck of Jabi, whom Khartyn had imperiously indicated that I should ride. He was a loving little animal with a knowing look in his dark eyes, as if he recognised the emotional turmoil that I was going through.
‘In ancient times,’ Khartyn recited, as we began the journey to the stone circle that they had referred to as the Blest Circle of Nine, ‘there were nine powerful Wizards, who travelled to Eronth from a distant moon with the aim of overthrowing the goddesses. They came to Eronth to escape the wrath of the Dark Angels from the Web-Kondoell when they stole the Eom crystal, a magical crystal that the Azephem had stolen from the Webx tree people who inhabit Zeglanada.
‘But obviously their plan went awry. The angels followed the nine Wizards to Eronth, and they incurred the ire of the goddesses when they attempted to molest Aphrodite. They were therefore turned into nine stones. However, the people of Faia had become fond of the Wizards and, over time, they continued to care for them, trapped within stone.
‘The Dreamers have whispered, and it is recorded in the Book of Shadows, that when the masculine energy overthrows the sacred goddesses and when the last goddess admits defeat, only then may the Stone Wizards return to flesh and blood and rule Eronth.’
I was constantly stimulated and absorbed by the unearthly beauty of the valley’s landscape. The air was incredible; perfumed, sweet and healing. After a lifetime of living in a big city, breathing in the constant pollution, I couldn’t believe how intoxicating it felt to take such pure air into my lungs. The sky was a glorious vision of peach and gold and white, and on the horizon the landscape shimmered greys, greens and blue-mauves. Mist hanging daintily in the air only added to the breathtaking beauty.
I was continually halting Jabi, who had quickly become my favourite of the sturdy little animals. I felt awed by the countless spectacular sights along the trail to the Circle of Nine, and needed to stop just to help me take some of it in. From what I had been able to gather from Rosedark, Dome Cottage was situated in Moon Valley, outside of Faia village, which was a small agricultural settlement. Rosedark had been vague about the exact distance that we were from Faia. Time as I had known it didn’t seem to exist in this new world, but I gathered that it was roughly a two-hour ilkama ride to Faia, and that Khartyn and Rosedark often chose to walk it. After having spent only a short time with Khartyn, it didn’t surprise me that this fragile-looking old woman, who looked as if she could easily turn into dust, had the stamina to tramp for miles through the countryside. There was a lot more to Khartyn than met the eye.
The Circle of Nine stood in a small field just outside of Faia village, their every need apparently attended to day and night by special attendants chosen from the village.
In the sky above Moon Valley, the Triple Moons were a continual ornament. Regardless of whether it was night or day they emitted a peculiar translucent peach light over the abundant tropical foliage. The air was perfumed with jasmine and rose, and appeared to possess a life of its own, dancing and swirling around us. I now realised how Gauguin must have felt when his senses first surveyed Tahiti after the muted palette of a London that he had long dreamed of escaping. When I gazed upon Eronth, I gazed with the eyes and heart of a Gauguin. After a lifetime of blindness I could now see. The weather was pleasantly warm, with a crisp anticipation in the air.
The countryside was like an exaggerated version of scenery I had seen years before on a visit to England to see my grandparents. Rolling hills, with slopes covered in bracken and fern. Fernery with exquisite colours of gold, orange and yellow, and delicate soft greens. The colours brought an eerie glow to the landscape. Ancient forests stretched in every direction. Immense, primeval trees, many stark of leaves, were reaching into the sky with dark lace fingers.
We travelled briskly, through winding English-style lanes of high hedges, flanked with stone walls and overflowing with exotic pink and blue flowers.
I had been curious about the lack of other beings, houses, cars, but the nearer we got to the field that housed the Circle of Nine, I watched with open-mouthed awe as other creatures joined us on our pilgrimage. I couldn’t refrain from staring in amazement at
some of them. There was an astonishingly beautiful group of beings who were very tall, with a large, bulb-like pink head. Each head contained three violet eyes. Their auras radiated a shade of gold that I had never seen before. Their energy was radiant with gentleness and peace.
‘Islae,’ Rosedark explained to me, noticing my interested stare.
As I continued to stare fascinated into their beings, I received an impression of intense sadness and worry. I shared with them their horror at the destruction of their natural vegetation by angels with black wings, and even worse their pitiful terror as their own numbers were decreased as a result.
The Islae were joined by a large group of women who seemed to be a combination of human and Faery. They had the faces of humans, although their lips were silver and their ears were elongated. Some had glistening, iridescent wings on their backs. Many of them had leaves and flowers placed in their hair. There were also many Crones, riding solemnly to the festival on ilkamas, accompanied by either a young male or female apprentice.
Rosedark and Khartyn seemed to know many of these, and kept calling out to them.
‘Hail! Blessed Be! Prosperous Harvest!’ they shouted as we rode along.
Rosedark told me that they were from Faia. Many of them bore gifts of flowers, grapes, corn and other fruits. They were a cheerful and boisterous crowd, singing and chanting, riding, like us, on ilkamas or else on red deer, although some just skipped or ran alongside us.
Also from Faia was a crowd of people who looked to be a cross between bulls and humans. They were all dressed in purple tunics with fawn leggings, and when I first saw them I nearly fell off my ilkama in shock. Khartyn assured me hurriedly that there was nothing to be concerned about, that they were harmless. They certainly looked intimidating with their sharp, curling horns.
Even more of a mouth opener was the group of beings with double heads. They were on foot, and they were wearing pale-green tunics with black trousers.
‘They’re Janusites,’ Rosedark hissed to me, noticing my fascination. ‘They can see in all directions, past, present and future. The Janusites are common to Faia, and many travellers and Crossas come to Faia to consult with them, or to study them. But unlike the Oracles of New Baffin, they are not soothsayers and are forbidden to discuss the possible futures that they see. I think that they serve a purpose similar to your therapists on the Blue Planet.’
I was thinking how much I would love to consult with a therapist at the moment, as I gazed around at the assorted crowd. I felt totally out of my depth with all the fantastical sights around me, although nobody seemed to think it anything odd that I was there among them.
There was even a giantess towering above the crowd. She was so tall that I had to crane my head up to try to catch a glimpse of her head, which I could barely see. I had an impression of yellow curls, a doll-like face, a mauve gown. She walked slowly, carefully, among the throng of excited beings, whom she could easily have squashed had she trodden on us. I had never seen anything like it outside of a fairytale book. The sight was almost exhilarating. Khartyn explained that the giantess was representing the handful of giants who lived on the border regions of Faia. Only one giant was permitted to attend these ceremonies, for obvious reasons.
There were also Baffinites from another major city of Eronth, New Baffin. The Baffinites, Khartyn explained, were a people wholly dedicated to learning and creativity. They tended to be fair-skinned, with white-blonde hair and large eyes. The Tremite Scribes were based in New Baffin. The Scribes, who were rarely ever seen in Eronth, had their headquarters in the Hall of Records in New Baffin. Several of the women from New Baffin had shaved heads, and Khartyn explained as we rode along that Aphrodite was the goddess that New Baffin embraced, and head shaving was common among the women who worshipped her.
According to Khartyn there were very powerful artistic Muses that had embraced the energy of the sprawling coastal city of New Baffin. It was one coastal settlement which nearly always escaped the harrying of the destructive Sea Hags. Rosedark had told me that New Baffin produced beautiful art and literature, the essence of which eventually filtered into other worlds such as Earth.
As we approached the Circle of Nine the iridescent brilliance of the Faery kingdom’s lights, together with their tiny ripples of laughter, increased until it appeared we were surrounded by millions of excited tiny fairies. Khartyn referred to them as Winskis. They darted among everyone, turning somersaults and singing little nonsense songs.
Their mood was infectious, and I was easily caught up in the wild enthusiasm around me, grinning broadly and feeling joy surge through every organ of my body.
Every so often, a Winski would dart down and punch or pinch me on the nose, causing me to squeal, then they would all join hands together and sing. Some of their songs, as far as I could gather, were far from complimentary about me, with phrases such as ‘stinking Bluite’ and ‘decaying brown-haired sow turd’ forming part of their lyrics.
Realisation stirred in me that the Faery kingdoms of Eronth — Rosedark had told me that there were two main tribes, the Imomm and the Wezom — were not fond of Bluites. Lack of belief in them on Earth was causing their decline, weakening the thought pattern that was needed to give them life. Now I could understand why they seemed to favour pinching me, and why I was showered with gobs of Winski spit.
There were also larger Faeries, but they ignored me and held hands flying together in the light around us. Some of them rode stems of ragwort. One in particular stood out; she was larger than the others and it was obvious in the world of Faery that she had some significance, being surrounded by an entourage of screaming Winskis. Her long red hair streamed out behind her as she glanced over coldly at me, and I involuntarily moved closer to Khartyn. A word came to my mind: Diomonna. Then two more words followed: hiss, claw.
‘Here we are — the Blest Circle of Nine,’ Khartyn informed me as we drew nearer to nine megaliths standing amid a dazzling sea of fairylight.
The stones were a breathtaking sight in the field of silver and green grass. I stared at the towering bulk of the nine grey monoliths. They curved in an arc, seemingly in deference to the middle stone which was noticeably taller than the others. An offering of small blue flowers and various fruits had been placed at the base of the tallest stone. Even the smallest stone was three times larger than my own height, and silhouetted against the peach sky they were unforgettably impressive.
Faint visions of men came to me, huge men, human in appearance except far taller, and with skins glowing a golden tinge. They were clothed in the furs of animals and some wore the masks of their power-animals. I felt them realise the full wrath of the dark face of the Goddess for having dared to molest Aphrodite. They were screaming in panic and terror, but to no avail. Nothing could save them from the icy paralysis and the sensation of death as their living, warm flesh became cold, inanimate stone . . .
I forced my mind back to the present, aware that Khartyn was observing me closely. The aura that surrounded the Blest Circle was peaceful enough for now, but I could sense the malevolent rage and frustration that had solidified through the dense, cold stone. They were lit from within with raw emotion. I shivered. Centuries of rage was trapped in there. If they ever managed to break free of their living coffins the destruction they would wreak upon the Faiaites in vengeance would be savage indeed.
At the base of the Circle there was a smaller circle of fires tended by nine young girls. Their pleasing appearance — half-faery, half-human — bespoke their Faiaite blood. Eyes large and elongated, silver-toned lips and spidery hands combined with expressions both mischievous and wise. The nine girls were clothed in white silk gowns with golden cords dangling around their waists, around their heads they had flower garlands, and at the centre of the garland, a crescent silver moon. They stood protectively in front of the stones as they saw the large crowd approaching them.
Khartyn was again ready to enlighten me. ‘They are the nine virgins. The protectors of the Sacre
d Fires and companions to the stones.’
Upon spotting the old woman the girls let out squeals of joy and raced toward us.
‘Mother! Mother!’
Khartyn dismounted from her ilkama and bowed low, hands raised in the air in salutation to the virgins.
‘Greetings, my dearly beloved children. How are our men on this auspicious occasion?’
The tallest of the virgins stepped forward.
‘Bwani has been unusually restless this past week, Mother.’
She discreetly indicated the tallest monolith. ‘He has been unsettled all week — despite the continual love and reassurance we are careful to send him.’
‘There have been Solumbi near, Old Mother,’ another girl added. ‘Perhaps Bwani senses them.’
‘Perhaps.’ Khartyn’s tone indicated she was unconvinced. She strode over to the monolith in question, with the nine virgins following at a respectful distance behind. Focusing on the stone, Khartyn placed her gnarled, veined hand onto the surface of the rock.
‘Well, child, he’s peaceful enough now.’
At that point three young girls suddenly stepped into view from behind the stone magicians. I held my breath. They were human. I realised fully how different the Faiaite women were to humans. These girls lacked the silver lips and elongated ears of the women around me who were seating themselves on the ground, some perching on top of larger boulders, like humans at a pop concert. Memories of Earth came flooding back to me, and my mind began to reel. Rosedark sensed my turbulence and took my hand.
‘They are not from your world,’ Khartyn said evenly, reading my thoughts. ‘They are from ours. They are Crossas. We plant them on the Blue Planet to attempt to heal the cracks that occur between our worlds. These three Crossas will excel on Earth in their respective fields of politics, popular entertainment and religion.’
Their faces were human, if totally impassive, and despite their tender years their cool gazes regarded me with adult confidence. Their auric fields radiated sheer power. I realised that although they looked human they were something else entirely. As I felt them in my mind a host of scattered memories of Earth that clung to them penetrated my shining. It was a confused whirl of processed foods, television and mobile phones, traffic jams, the sun. I noted that when Khartyn greeted the Crossas she bowed very low to them. The Faiaites were similarly respectful, falling silent as soon as they spotted them.
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