The Shifting Pools
Page 18
There was nowhere to run, but we ran anyway. The Creatures were close. Under the cover of night, we hid in the ditch along the side of a road that ran through the forest. As headlights approached, we shrank back into the mud as far as we could, feeling it cold and sticky on our skin. With our eyes closed, our breaths caught in our throats, we waited to be found. The headlights seared through our eyelids. The engines did not stop, though, and the jeeps drove on through the forest, the Creatures searching endlessly for us.
Enanti: the present
The bottom of the ditch
We knew the forces of the Shadow Beast were edging closer and closer to where we were – striking now into the heart of Enanti. We had started to talk on some nights about heading for the Straits themselves – the northernmost point of Enanti, where, it was said, the Shadow Realm had split away, all those generations ago.
“Where are the Straits? Are they far?” I asked.
Raul turned to me. “They are – but they are where we need to go. There are no settlements in the Hinterlands around them; no one has lived that far north for many generations. People fear those black waters. But we know of some who have travelled there and returned with stories. And we know of a few who have managed to get over to the Shadow Realm itself, and come back alive. We don’t know how, but perhaps they were lucky enough to get in and out undetected.
“But we have differing accounts of how far the Hinterlands are; how many days’ travel. It is almost as if they are differing distances for different people; it makes no sense, really. And we know of some who have tried, but have never reached them; they bring back stories of going around in circles. But we can avoid that – we have expert trackers among us.”
“Why are the Straits so feared?” I asked next.
“Few have been there, and even fewer have been and returned. That in itself is enough to bring fear. It is said that they start at the very place that Eferon struck the ground all those lives ago – where he cleaved Enanti apart from what became the Shadow Realm. It is a place of death and division; few people want to go there.
“The Straits themselves are said to be wild, tumbling seas, with currents that will suck you down. Two ocean currents meet there; two bodies collide. It is a point of transition and flux. I think the only way we can get across is by flying. And there will be little to sustain us in the Hinterlands, if the stories are anything to go by. The land is sparse and windswept. Everything that remains has earned its place. Things are spare, streamlined, necessary. We need to travel that way ourselves. We will take with us only what we need,” Raul said.
“I knew a man who said he had been to the Hinterlands.” Silas chipped in. “He was as mad as a brush, but there was something about him that made me believe him. His eyes looked as if they had seen a great deal more than they should. And he kept saying that he would be going back. I think he must have done, because one day he just wasn’t there anymore.”
I chilled at his words. What had this man been like before venturing to the Hinterlands, I wondered? What had taken him there? How had he got back? Had he found what he was looking for?
Lara, Esker and I left late morning for a hunting trip, and had been going for less than an hour when we reached a ridge-line that gave us panoramic views of our new location. The light was still thin, but shot through with warmth now. I heard a dove calling, and listened patiently for a response. The rush of a stream was not too far distant. Behind us was virgin forest, thick with life noise. The tree line petered out further up the ridge - just a few stubborn trees still heading for the summit. The incline on the other side was too abrupt for anything more than scrub and grass to grow. As the land evened out again, though, little pockets of woodland were sprinkled though the more open, undulating landscape.
Our eyes were drawn immediately to the smoke. Billowing from what looked like a little settlement, huddled in a depression, it was rising high up into the air before the wind shook it to pieces. It was clear that the village had been attacked.
We crept into the ruins. Smoke was still rising from some of the piles of rubble that stood as tors; marking the dead and the depths of human experience. The silence was crushing. I had seen devastation like this before, and I closed my eyes as I felt the horror of what had happened here. As survivors began to emerge from the collapsed buildings. I looked in their eyes, and I saw myself. It was a horrible moment. I could see what they had seen, feel what they felt, know what they had known. And I knew that life had changed forever for them.
Esker, Lara and I rushed to help those still trapped amongst the rubble. One little baby was passed up to my arms as his mother was pulled free, and he looked directly at me.
“Laila.” I gasped as this solid little nugget of warmth lay in my arms.
“It’s Brecon,” his mother said, automatically, reaching for him.
“Sorry, I…” There was no explanation I could give. But I couldn’t hold him anymore, and I quickly passed him back to his mother, my arms trembling.
Esker would lead the people we had already found back to our camp. It was late now – the light fading – but Lara and I stayed a little longer, to ensure we had not missed anyone.
When dusk fell, Lara and I knew we had to leave. It was the hour of stalking shadows, where the strident uprights of the trees were in burnished gold on one side, and brushed in black ink on the other. As we walked back through the forest, the night so still, my senses suddenly pricked. I tensed and tried to tune in further. I could see Lara was feeling something too. I felt fear coming from the small creatures that were suddenly running towards us. And behind that, a great wall of desolation and darkness, on thundering feet.
Lara looked over at me. “Craven”, she gasped. “Fly, Eve! Fly!”
“I can’t! There is no wind tonight! I can’t take off. I can’t do it. I’m so sorry!”
We turned together, and ran.
The moon was more than half full, but dark clouds raced across its surface, creating constantly changing shadows. We were illuminated one second, hidden another. The strong verticals of the trees were occasionally backlit, then swallowed up by the night.
We ran deeper into the woods. Tangled roots occasionally slowed us, but the ground was thankfully clear of much thicket and undergrowth. The trees were too tall here to allow much to gain a foothold on the forest floor. I suddenly skidded as we ran straight into a ditch, slipping down the side to its bottom. It ran as far as we could see in either direction, and beyond it, raised up on a manufactured embankment, was an earth road, cutting right through the forest. The road carrying the Craven directly to us.
“We need to get right down, become just like this ditch, Eve. Roll in the mud with me. And keep your eyes closed – they will give us away,” whispered Lara.
We covered ourselves in mud, as the whole embankment above us reverberated with their footsteps. They marched in unison: The Craven, hundreds of them. Each stomp of their feet into the ground was a smash on to our shield of resolve. They paused just before they had drawn level with our hiding place, and we saw the arcs of light from their caught-beams searching through the forest. The urge to run was almost overwhelming. I gripped Lara’s hand and silently willed us both to resist the impulse. I felt the mud beneath us, cold and pliant, and I squeezed myself in further.
We shrank back as beams were angled down the embankment sides, scanning right over our area. I knew the lip of the ditch would impede their beams to some degree, but the side of the ditch furthest away from the road smashed into clarity. My foot, not pulled in tight enough, lay there, exposed. I pulled in my breath, and closed my eyes, half-hoping in that childish belief that if I couldn’t see them...
Lara and I stayed utterly motionless as their beams swept on, and over. We knew the fear of the fox at ground, the stag at bay. A tiny moan escaped her, but I would have missed it if I hadn’t been pressed right into her slight frame.
> And then it stopped. The lights were all pointed forwards once again, and the marching resumed. The reverberations held a different quality now. The very pulse that had terrified us with its thunder a few minutes before, now made me feel we had a chance. Sometimes things really are just a matter of perspective.
“Your foot! I thought they had seen your foot,” breathed Lara.
I could hardly believe it either. One thin layer of mud, less than a few millimetres, really, had saved us. Even down there in a ditch, you can find things to save you.
Enanti: the present
Fog
When we stumbled into camp that night, the whole place was on alert. Raul ran over and clutched me to him, gripping my shoulders painfully. There was no need for questions. We couldn’t stay there. We needed to act.
We rode out early that morning, before the sun was even up, the day just a thin grey promise on the horizon. We went as a group of six: Raul, Silas, Esker, Sorcha, Lara and myself – leaving Koni, Breven, Arno and the others to head up the camp while we searched out the land. We needed to know how pressing the danger was.
We rode in silence, only the gentle rhythmic thump of the horses’ hooves could be heard. It seemed unnatural. Where was the bird call that should punctuate this first light? The forest felt full of secrets, shrouded in a heavy fog. The upright lines of trunks loomed out of the mist before us, and I turned in my saddle to see them swallowed up again by the mist behind us. Our visibility was only a few metres, and this closing in pressed hard on my chest, shortening my breath. The horses sensed it too – this strange dawn. My senses felt on alert, and yet dulled by this heaviness hanging in the air. I could only feel ambiguity, and an inching sense of dread. I couldn’t read it, and as I looked around, I realised we were all feeling the same way.
Raul shifted in his saddle next to me and whispered low. “Are you getting anything Eve? This doesn’t feel right, but I can’t pick up anything specific.”
“No, I can’t either. I don’t understand.”
Esker joined in: “It’s probably just this mist. It’s so heavy that it is throwing out our… Shit!” We shot out eyes over to him just in time to see the spear embed itself in his thigh, causing him to jerk in agony and his horse to career off into the rest of us. In a split second, chaos erupted. Other spears followed the first, and we wheeled around, frantically trying to protect all sides. I heard a horse scream as something found a home in its flank.
“Up! We need to get up above this stuff! They can’t throw those spears much higher!” Raul shouted urgently, as we braced our shields against another flurry of shots. I knew he was right; it was the only way out; the only way to be free of the cloying ether that swirled around us. I didn’t want to leave my horse; the poor thing was utterly terrified, but I knew that it was we who were drawing the attack, that it would stop if we got out of the way. We rose as one into the air, Raul lifting me bodily from my horse to get me started. The forceful strokes of our wings was the only sound over the hiss of incoming spears. Esker rose with us, but with great effort; his leg was badly hurt. We kept going up, and suddenly we broke free of the mist, reaching the height of the canopy. The horses below us were swallowed up into the fumes, and disappeared. We turned west and flew urgently back to the camp, Lara flying close to Esker, expertly encouraging him with her voice.
As we landed, others ran over to see why we had come back so quickly, and on the wing.
Our nerves were taut as we strained to hear anything from outside the camp. The flurry of activity had stilled to a disconcerting silence, as we all listened intently. Nothing. That was wrong. And then, as we waited out the minutes, we heard the wondrous call of a wood thrush – solitary at first, and then another and another. We sank back in relief. The night was retreating, being beaten back by day as the misted air around us thinned, and lifted.
“They’ve never come that close to camp before,” Silas said. “What’s going on? Something has changed.”
“Yes. We must be getting closer to the Straits. Nothing is going to get easier from now on. We always knew that,” rejoined Raul.
“So what do we do with the camp? Shouldn’t we keep them further back? Go on with a smaller number? We can’t fight our way over the Straits, and look after all these people,” Silas said. It was true; the dilemma over whether we should travel as one to the Hinterlands needed to be addressed. Now.
At full light, we all gathered, chastened by the early morning’s events. Raul stood to speak.
“The group we formed out of necessity grew as we found more and more of you, dispossessed and fleeing. But over time, we have altered our path to one of confrontation with the Shadow Realm, and we can’t risk everyone in that venture. It must be a choice for each of us who can fight, but we also need to protect those who can’t.”
Others stood to voice their feelings. It was eventually decided that the main body of the camp would return to the relative safety of the central forests. It would be a long trip back, but they would be far further from the Shadow Beast’s forces, which, we knew, were amassing here now, anticipating our approach to the Straits. Several of our best fighters would go with them as guards – Arno and Breven among them. If other groups were found, they would join ranks, and any fighters amongst them would be urged to join us at the Straits, to help us spearhead our assault.
Some didn’t want to go. We had faced everything as a group, and breaking off felt like a betrayal. But most were aware that they could be a liability if we found ourselves in a full-out attack, and saw the sense of it. We all knew it would be a hard journey to the Hinterlands.
Sula didn’t want to go. I saw it in her eyes. I sought her out after the meeting, and hugged her close.
“It’s OK, you know. It’s OK to not want to go, and it’s OK to be scared. But you are going to be safe – and that is the important thing.”
She hugged me harder. I relaxed into just feeling her, to hear everything that she couldn’t say, and I heard it as clear as day. She wasn’t scared for herself. She was scared for me. I kneeled down in front of her and looked right at her, cupping her face with my hands.
“And I’m going to be OK too. I need to do this, Sula. You know that, don’t you?”
She nodded. Then she hugged me to her again, and with the tiniest of whispers, she conquered the world. “Yes.”
Enanti: the present
The flooded maze
As another thin grey dawn split the sky from the land the next morning, we set off – as two different groups. The great bulk of the Free was heading back inland, as far away as possible from the marauding forces of the Shadow Beast, protected by a few trusted hunters.
Our new, small group comprised just Raul’s closest band, Lara and myself. We were far too few, in my view, to achieve our aim, but we took heart from the fact that our departing group would be spreading the word that all fighters from other bands of the Free should head for the Straits and join us there.
We travelled all that day, and then for many more, in the direction of the Straits, but as the days turned into weeks, we seemed to be making no progress. I could have sworn that we were passing the same landmarks repeatedly. It began to feel as if we were walking in eternal circles. Frustration crackled increasingly through our group like an electric charge.
* * *
I knew that tree stump; without question we had passed by this exact spot two days ago. I looked at Raul in exasperation, and he nodded in acknowledgement.
“Shit!” Silas threw himself down on to the ground in annoyance. “What the hell is going on here?”
There is something at work here – something stopping us getting to the Hinterlands – bending this reality into a curve. I’ve heard of this, from people who have tried to reach the Straits before now,” Raul said quietly.
“Let me try?” I suggested.
“What does she mean?” Silas
asked Raul.
“I can speak for myself,” I snapped, and felt a surge of satisfaction as Silas’s eyes flew over to mine.
I continued: “We’ve been going around the same part of this forest now for weeks, and we keep ending up back here. That’s no coincidence. Something is warping reality to make it so. If we keep going in circles when we have seven expert trackers with us, then something is going on. Simply carrying on doing the same thing is a pointless exercise.”
“Agreed,” Silas said. “But that doesn’t explain what you meant by ‘let me try’. You have no idea what we need to do.”
“No, I don’t. But at least I know that. Watching you all crash around in the forest for another circuit isn’t exactly the answer. Surely you can see that it’s futile? If Lara and Raul think I have a role to play here, then let me try.”
“What did you have in mind?” asked Raul.
“Let me try going to one of the Shifting Pools. If they do take me where I need to go, then maybe I will find something we need.”
“It’s too risky; you’d be there on your own,” Raul said immediately.
I’d been in a lot of places on my own. Often surrounded by people, but very much alone.
“I can look after myself.”
“You have no idea where you will find yourself.” Raul shook his head adamantly.
“Again, that is nothing new to me. And you’ve told me the Pools will take me where I want to go. If I want to find a solution to this warping of space, then surely they will take me somewhere I can find that?”
“She is speaking sense, Raul.” Lara touched his arm gently, but I could see the tension coming off him. I knew he would let me choose for myself, but it would be hard for him. Every fibre of him wanted to be the one to protect me. I knew that feeling, and I respected it. But this was my choice.