The Unmaking: The Last Days of Tian Di, Book Two

by Egan, Catherine

  “I spec we learn not to dwell on it too much,” said Nell thoughtfully. “Or praps we get used to the idea. It’s just how it is. I hate to think that I’ll disappear from the worlds, not be Nell anymore, praps not be anything at all. But then, we wouldnay cherish our lives so much if we didnay know how short a time we have.”

  “How fragile and noble humans are!” said the Faery, deeply moved. He looked at her tenderly. “I cannot imagine it. While you are with me, I will do my utmost not to let you die.”

  Nell laughed but she was rather touched, too. “Thank you,” she said. “That’s comforting.”

  They were passing over the land of the giants. One of the unwieldy fortresses was under siege, smoke and fire pouring out of it. Brutish giants surrounded it, swinging great blades and hurling boulders at each other.

  “Look!” Nell cried, waking Charlie, who had gone to sleep.

  “Giants are always at war,” Charlie said, unimpressed.

  “True enough,” Jalo concurred, but Nell watched the battle until they had left it behind them.

  “There is a rarer sight,” Jalo said suddenly, softly, touching her arm and pointing out the window. She had to crane her neck to look up where he was pointing and saw only a streak of deep crimson flashing by them.

  Charlie looked pleased. “They say a sighting is good luck,” he said.

  Jalo nodded and smiled.

  “What was it?” asked Nell.

  “The Vermilion Bird of the Sparkling Deluder,” said Jalo. “It flies over all of Tian Xia. Nobody knows why. Keeping watch, perhaps.”

  The foothills rose up gradually into the ferocious mountain range that ran as far as the eye could see from east to west, ice-bound peaks lost in swirls of cloud. The Faery leaned forward and told Ander where to set down in a clearing on a snowy mountain.

  “There is a cave somewhere here!” Jalo shouted as they bundled out of the chopper. The wind was fierce and the ground slippery. “Wait for me by your helicopter and I will find it. Please be careful not to die.” With that, he disappeared among the thick pines.

  Ander wrapped himself in blankets and took a nap in the helicopter, while Charlie and Nell wandered about the clearing a bit to stretch their legs. They had been flying all day and the light was beginning to fade from the sky.

  “I dinnay know why you jumped on Jalo that way,” Nell told him. “It made for an awkward beginning.”

  “I saw him pointing a sword at you,” protested Charlie. “It looked to me like you were in danger and I was helping.”

  “I wasnay in danger. He was just a bit nervous at first,” said Nell. “You should check before you go leaping on someone, aye. He might have cut you into bits with that sword if I hadnay stopped him.”

  “Lah, that’s twice you’ve saved my life then,” said Charlie. He glanced at her from the corners of his eyes. “I’d resigned myself, you know. I couldnay have made the Crossing without you. I was just hanging onto your voice.”

  Nell shushed him. She had just become aware of a pair of bright eyes watching them from a dark hump she had, until then, assumed was the stump of a tree.

  “What?” asked Charlie, aggravated. “I’m trying to say thank you, lah.”

  “That tree stump has eyes,” Nell hissed at him. “Over there. Look.”

  Charlie gave the stump a long look. Then, before Nell could stop him, he scooped a handful of snow, packed it into a tight ball in his fist, and pegged it straight at the stump. The stump leaped aside with an angry cry and at the same moment reared up to its full, stringy height. It had brown crinkled flesh rather like a toad’s, but it moved so quickly, bounding towards them, that it was hard to make out much else except that it was bigger than them and had bright staring eyes. Nell turned with a shriek and ran among the trees. For several minutes she could hear the thing, whatever it was, galumphing after her, letting loose odd war-like shouts and yelps as it went. Then Nell realized she could only hear her own screams and footsteps crashing through the snow. She stopped running.

  “Why did you run off like that?” Charlie was at her side, having flown after her as a bird.

  “Why did you?” demanded Nell. “You could have turned into something scary and made it go away.”

  “I didnay want to lose you,” he said, laughing. “You took off at such a clip! Come on, we should get back to the helicopter.”

  But neither of them moved. They could see their breath pluming out into the cold, dark air as the last of the daylight faded from the sky and night fell and the trees soared up all around them, black and ominous. The silence and the falling darkness made Nell think back on her conversation with the Faery about how easily humans can die. A twig cracked somewhere nearby and she tensed.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Look!” Charlie pointed, and Nell saw that a wavering light was moving among the trees, coming towards them.

  “No, no, no,” she hissed at Charlie, who had started to go towards it. “Lights in forests are bad, nay? You always hear stories about travellers lured deeper into the woods by mysterious lights and so on.”

  “I’ve nary heard any stories like that,” said Charlie as the light came closer. A tall dark shape was following the light, keeping close to the trees so it was difficult to see what it was.

  “This time, dinnay go running off,” said Charlie. “Stay close to me.”

  “Why dinnay you change?” said Nell. “Become a dragon or something!”

  “Lah, I want to see what it is first,” he replied. The light emerged from between the trees, a glowing sphere, and circled them slowly as if it was having a good look at them. The dark shape following it hid behind a tree.

  Charlie called out something in the common language of Tian Xia. The light darted close to their faces and then retreated. A being stepped from behind the tree. It was the stump-thing, stretched out and gangly, with a black cloak pulled around it. It had a bit of colourless hair sticking out of its scalp in wisps but otherwise its face was like a long, shriveled bean with brilliant eyes. Mouth and nose appeared to be mere gaps in the face, darker than the darkness. It spoke in a rattling voice like autumn leaves underfoot and Charlie replied. Then the thing turned, its ball of light zipping on ahead.

  “Come on,” said Charlie. “She’s a witch. Prolly the one we’re looking for.”

  “She?” muttered Nell, but she followed them. Gradually the trees grew thinner and they came to a rocky outcrop with branches piled before an opening. The witch removed the branches and the light bobbed inside, then whizzed back out and circled the witch’s head in a panic. The witch began to gibber angrily. Jalo stepped out of the cave.

  ~~~

  The stump-like creature Charlie had thrown a snowball at was in fact the very being they had come in search of – a witch named Heilwig. The witch had heard the helicopter long before it landed and had been watching to see what would emerge. She was not at all pleased that Jalo had found her cave and made himself at home there without an invitation, but after many soothing apologies the witch calmed down. They all entered the cave after being formally and pointedly invited and Heilwig set about building a fire. The cave was a large, cool dome, insulated with woven rugs and straw mats. A sleek, bright-eyed mink bared its teeth at the visitors and then leaped to Heilwig’s shoulders, draping itself around her neck like a living fur scarf.

  “Get the other human from the helicopter,” Jalo told Charlie, keeping his eyes on the witch.

  Nell glanced at Charlie a bit nervously, for Jalo had said this in a very kingly way and, although he was accommodating, Charlie didn’t like to be bossed around. Charlie looked for a moment like he was going to refuse.

  “I’ll go,” Nell offered, although she didn’t want to miss a moment of what was going to happen in the cave.

  “No, it’s fine, I’ll go,” Charlie grumbled, and he disappeared out the entrance. Heilwig and the Faery conversed in low voices, not bothering to include Nell.

  Ander and Charlie returned with pr
ovisions from the helicopter, the last of the food that Nell had packed. Nell made sandwiches, which delighted Heilwig. She ate three in a row with great gusto, not saying thank you or even looking at Nell when she handed them over. The Faery declined politely, but Nell caught him giving the bread a look of quiet distaste.

  “I wonder what your parents are going to say to me when I get you back,” brooded Ander, rubbing his unshaven chin with his hand. “I reckon I’m going to be in a lot of trouble, aye.”

  “Dinnay be silly,” said Nell. “We had to help Charlie, and now we have to find Swarn and Eliza.”

  “And you’re sure they’re together?”

  “No,” Nell admitted, “but I spec they will be.”

  “And how are we going to help when we find them? Seems to me that you and I will just be in the way. You should be with your parents, aye. This is nay our fight.”

  “Of course it’s our fight!” protested Nell. “This is everyone’s fight. What will become of the worlds if Nia is nay stopped? It will be chaos, aye, and nobody will be able to stop Tian Xia worlders from crossing over. Humans will be like slaves again.”

  “Aye, sure it’s important,” said Ander calmly. “But what can we do here? We should be taking care of our families in Di Shang, Nell, that’s where we belong.”

  Nell stared angrily at the fire. She knew he was right. Now that Charlie was better and Jalo was involved, she and Ander were not going to be of much use to anybody. But she couldn’t bear to go home to make decorations and cakes for Winter Festival, all the while wondering if the dragon was still alive, if they had found Swarn, if Eliza was with her and safe. She knew herself to be powerless, but all the same she could not allow herself to be relegated to the sidelines yet again. She was involved this time and she would stay that way. Ander looked at Nell, her eyes bright with tears, jaw clenched, and he sighed.

  “We’ll stay with them until we find your friend,” he said. “Just so you can see she’s OK. Then we go back. We dinnay belong in this world.” With that he lay down on his side and went to sleep. Relieved, Nell turned her attention to the conversation between Jalo and the witch.

  “What are they saying?” she whispered to Charlie.

  “Swarn is still alive,” Charlie said. “Heilwig saw her two days ago, aye. Swarn is trying to get witches to join with her to fight Nia but none are willing.”

  “Why are they nay willing?” asked Nell, appalled.

  “Witches are pretty solitary. They stay neutral in most disputes,” said Charlie. “From their perspective, pitting themselves against Nia is just a form of suicide. Swarn is nay likely to find many in Tian Xia willing to join this fight.”

  “Is Heilwig going to come and help the dragon?”

  “She’s nay coming with us,” said Charlie. “But she’ll make a potion. She needs one night to gather and prepare the ingredients. Right now they’re negotiating payment. Jalo was offering Faery treasure, but she wants Magic, aye. Some kind of Illusion.”

  “Tell them the dragon is nay just hurt, he’s on fire – it’s a magic fire, I spec – green, and he had little burning bits all over him,” said Nell.

  Charlie interrupted the witch and the Faery to tell them this. It seemed to perturb Heilwig quite a bit. She muttered to herself, scratching at her head and wriggling in a strange way before resuming conversation with the Faery.

  Nell wasn’t aware of having fallen asleep, but she woke in the morning to find Charlie and Ander also sleeping on the floor of the cave. The Faery Jalo was watching the witch grind something to powder with a pestle and mortar, chanting in a low sing-song as she did so. Her singing voice was surprisingly lovely, altogether unlike the gravelly rattle of her speech. Nell sat up and watched, fascinated, as the witch took a little black kettle from over the fire and poured a liquid bright as quicksilver into the bowl of powder. She poured it in slow circles, singing, and stirred the mixture into a gleaming paste. She drew a circle with her finger on the stone floor, placed the bowl in the centre of it, then clapped her hands over it three times, making sharp, guttural exclamations with each clap. The paste began to steam. She drew the steam up with her hands and began to shape it. The paste was dissolving fast, becoming a silky white smoke that obeyed the movement of her fingers and the direction of her breath. She spoke to it as she shaped it and Nell saw that it was taking the shape of a dragon. Soon the smoke dragon was fully formed and spread its wings out. The witch threw back her head and began to bay like a hound, waking Ander and Charlie, who watched open-mouthed as she performed the rest of the spell. The Faery calmly handed the witch a jeweled gourd he’d had at his side. She took it and held it up to the dragon, speaking a command. The dragon disintegrated into elegant white threads that poured into the gourd. Heilwig stopped it up and handed it to the Faery. She spoke to him at length and he nodded, listening carefully.

  “We need some of the dragon’s blood and fire for this to work,” Charlie translated quietly to Nell. “We add it to the mix, say a spell, then we treat his wounds with the potion.”

  Nell touched Heilwig on the arm and said, “Thank you.”

  The witch looked at her like she was an unpleasant insect and did not reply.

  Chapter

  ~14~

  Alvar, Lord of the Faery Guard and Second Advisor to His Majesty, Malferio, the King of the Faeries, wandered through a fragrant garden, enchanted by the colourful songbirds his daughter’s mother-in law, Tariro, had sent as a gift. Tariro’s eldest son, Cadeyrn, was a gifted lad, quick with his sword and his wits alike. Alvar had approved of the match for his daughter. Indeed, he could not have hoped for better. His daughter was not a great beauty, nor was she particularly talented or clever. All she had was her rank and she was lucky it had been enough for the likes of Cadeyrn or, more accurately, for Cadeyrn’s mother. Tariro herself was not nobly born, but nobody remembered that these days.

  The garden was Illusion, though well done, but the birds were real, captured by Tariro’s servants from an island in the Far Sea. Their song was exquisite, their feathers far brighter and softer than any of the birds in the west. He thought he would like a coat made of such feathers and wondered if there was some way he could ask her for more birds. He would write her a letter, reassuring her that Cadeyrn was indeed moving up as quickly as was seemly, and include a subtle hint of how lovely such a coat would be. Perhaps a poem of thanks, with a line about how the birds wore feathered coats beyond what could be dreamed of in the humble Faery Court. Yes, she was clever, she would pick up on that.

  He left the Illusion of the garden intact, hoping he would have time to return later. A path appeared under his feet and he followed it downhill into a valley of towering ash-grey trees whose pale branches reached towards a stormy white sky. Wind lashed the trees but did not touch Alvar. Victims of Malferio’s insane purges were bound to the trees by silver chains. They hung their heads or shouted Curses they could not complete or moaned into the wind. Alvar walked among them, as he did every day. Some of them were old friends but he did not meet their eyes. He could do nothing for them now. He walked here as a reminder. As a warning.

  The sky flashed and shook and the trees groaned, their pale, leafless fingers shuddering. Something was moving further in among the trees. Alvar reached for his sword. No, it must have been a trick of the light, the wind throwing shadows. There was no one here. He walked further and then froze. There was a sound on the wind like a bright, ringing laugh. He saw the flash of a cloak moving behind one of the trees in the distance.

  “Show yourself!” he called. Again he heard the echo of sweet laughter, like a girl’s. He peered among the trees and the hanging bodies of old comrades. There, again, too quick for him to be sure – gleaming hair, a swirling robe.

  And a voice behind him. “Alvar.”

  Witchery. He did not turn around. How could there be a witch loose in the Traitor’s Wood? He should summon the Faery Guard at once, but....

  “Wait,” said a voice in his ear, a voice he kne
w.

  She stepped out from behind a tree several paces away.

  “Wait, Alvar. Hear me out before you act.”

  She was as beautiful as ever. So lovely that his heart seemed to stumble and pause. Her cloak was silver-white, her satin dress a brilliant green flecked with gold, like her eyes. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in shining curls and the look on her face was caught somewhere between pleading and laughter.

  “It would be treason to speak with you,” he said. “I could find myself hanging from one of these trees.”

  Nia looked around and shuddered. “I don’t know why you come here; it’s very morbid of you. But you won’t end up this way, Alvar. You’re far too clever. And if you listen to me, everything might be different.” She paused, her smile trembling slightly. “No more Traitor’s Wood.”

  “If I am so clever,” said Alvar, “why have I not yet summoned the Guard?”

  Nia shook her head. “I am a match for all of you now, Alvar. You should hear what I’ve come to say.”

  The trees swayed and the wind screamed around them, touching neither. Alvar felt strangely calm. So, Nia had come. To him. There were only two possibilities now. Malferio and the Faeries would destroy her at last or she would destroy Malferio. And he, Alvar, would fall with one or rise with the other. If he spoke to Nia now, his life would depend upon her success. Centuries ago he had been a member of a secret society in favour of assassinating the King and his dangerous Queen. The society had never gained the support it needed for an undertaking so vast as the murder of another Faery and it was disbanded altogether once Nia left the realm and the worst of the purges were over. The fact that Alvar was still free and in a position of prominence showed that the King did not know of the society. The fact that Nia was here now suggested that perhaps she did. Or perhaps she only knew that the thought of her death, even when he had worked for it, had always grieved him. Perhaps she knew he had seen nothing lovelier in all his thousands of years than the flash of her eyes.

  Alvar had done terrible things in his life, things he took no pride in. But he could never be called a coward. It had come to this and he was glad.