by James Nicol
Desert Queen began to play to loud cheers and whoops. But no one cheered louder than Salle, whose face was luminous in the flickering light from the screen.
Chapter 6
THE HIGH ELDER
rianwyn glanced up at the high black gates, the official entrance to the Civil Witchcraft Authority building. She was precisely five minutes late! She hurried through, weaving in and out of a group of young apprentices. ‘Pardon me, can I get through?’ she called. The apprentices spotted her silver star badge and moved quickly to one side to let through a fully qualified witch.
Arianwyn felt them all staring up at her as she dashed past. It was a strange feeling. She kept her eyes fixed on the doors ahead and hurried on, pulling her satchel straight, adjusting her jacket and giving her messy curls a few tugs, attempting to pull them into something that didn’t make her resemble a wild brunkun.
This was the first time she had been back to the Civil Witchcraft Authority building since her evaluation in January, but although everything was just as it had been then, Arianwyn felt she was a different person altogether. So much had happened in those nine months, lots of wonderful and strange things and lots of dark and terrible things. And now here she was off to meet the High Elder! Her stomach turned a somersault as she approached the receptionist who was just finishing a phone call. ‘How may I help you?’ the lady asked brightly, smiling up at Arianwyn.
‘I have an appointment with the . . .’ She faltered for a second, her anxiety bubbling to the surface. ‘The High Elder,’ she said quietly.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, did you say the Office of Clairvoyance?’ the receptionist said.
Arianwyn blushed and shook her head. She could feel the queue forming behind her and she felt a little sweaty. ‘No, the um . . . the High Elder.’ She managed to say it a little louder and the woman responded at once, sitting suddenly straighter, her pen poised.
‘Oops yes, of course. Sorry! Name please?’
‘Gribble. Arianwyn Gribble. From Lull.’ She handed over her witch’s identity card and the card the High Elder had given her the day before.
‘Just a moment, please.’ The receptionist lifted the heavy receiver of the telephone and quickly dialled. She smiled at Arianwyn while waiting for the call to be answered. ‘Hello? It’s the reception hall here. I have a Miss Gribble from . . . Dull?’ She looked up in panic.
‘Lull,’ Arianwyn said.
‘Sorry – Miss Gribble from Lull here to see – yes, of course. Thank you.’ She replaced the receiver and smiled again at Arianwyn. ‘Just a moment, Miss Gribble. If you could wait here . . .’ She handed back Arianwyn’s card.
‘Thank you,’ Arianwyn replied, but the receptionist was already helping the next person in the queue, a young apprentice clearly late for her evaluation ceremony.
Had it really only been nine months since she had been in that position? It felt like a lifetime ago, but at the same time it felt like it could have been just yesterday. Arianwyn could almost hear the gasps of shock at her evaluation ceremony as the gauge had fizzed and issued forth a cloud of smoke and all power to the whole C.W.A. building had suddenly been lost. It had been the shadow glyph and her connection to it – and indeed Arianwyn’s own high magical level – that had caused the blackout that day. She hoped none of today’s apprentices got off to such an inauspicious start.
‘Miss Gribble?’ It was the receptionist again. ‘The High Elder is ready to see you now. If you’d like to take an elevator to the fourth floor, someone will meet you there.’ She gestured across the lobby to the elevators.
‘Thank you,’ Arianwyn said again. She moved towards them, suddenly aware that she was hurrying. She paused and took a deep, steadying breath. ‘Just keep calm, Wyn,’ she told herself.
The elevator doors slid open and a narrow corridor opened before Arianwyn. A small bell rang somewhere nearby. Leaning against the wall opposite, flicking through a folder, was a young man just a little older than herself, with thick, brown hair falling into his dark eyes.
‘COLIN!’ Arianwyn called as she charged out of the elevator towards him, startling a man who was walking past. ‘Oh my goodness, it’s so wonderful to see you! Where’ve you been? What’ve you been up to? Do you work up here now? You didn’t reply to my letter. Did you know Salle was in Kingsport too?’ she asked all at once, her words tumbling into each other. She felt a sudden tightening of her throat.
‘I’m sorry I’ve not been in touch.’ Colin blushed and stared at the floor. ‘I’ve been quite busy. You can probably guess I’ve been moved from Miss Newam’s evaluation department and I’m now working for the Council of Elders.’
‘Oh, Colin, that’s amazing!’ Arianwyn smiled. ‘I bet you’re pleased not to be working for Miss Newam any more.’ She shuddered, thinking about the spidery, vicious little woman.
‘Well, your grandmother recommended me for it, didn’t she tell you?’
Arianwyn shook her head. ‘I’ve not seen much of Grandmother really, she’s so busy. She must have forgotten.’
‘The council have been meeting a lot just recently,’ Colin explained. ‘Well, shall we go? Don’t want to keep the High Elder waiting, do we?’
They headed along the corridor, Colin leading the way. Arianwyn saw glimpses of offices, banks of people sitting at typewriters or answering telephones. There were doors that led into rooms filled with books and folders, and even one holding a huge prototype of the spirit lanterns that the witches were using to catalogue spirit creatures across the whole of Hylund.
Colin suddenly turned right and headed through two massive open doors into a vast room that was flooded with bright autumn light. ‘This is the council chamber,’ he said quietly.
Long windows, the full height of the room, filled the space with sunshine. To one side a vast table waited, covered with various maps and charts. Beside the table stood the High Elder and, rather surprisingly, Grandmother, who kept her eyes fixed ahead. She hadn’t said that she was going to be here, Arianwyn thought. She’d left the house before Arianwyn and Salle had woken up.
‘Welcome, Miss Gribble.’ The High Elder smiled warmly. She had a broad face that was tanned and lined, as though it had been finely carved from oak. Arianwyn guessed she might be about the same age as her grandmother. Her hair was pulled back from her face and tied in a tight bun. In her severe white robes, a midnight blue talma pinned over one shoulder, she looked like someone you didn’t meddle with. The phrase no-nonsense stuck in Arianwyn’s mind. ‘Shall we?’ The High Elder gestured towards the table. ‘Mr Twine, the doors please.’
As Arianwyn crossed to the table, she felt she was being carefully studied by the High Elder, who didn’t take her eyes off her once. She heard Colin lock the doors and then he jogged across the room, reaching the table at the same time as Arianwyn. They peered down at what lay on the surface. A map of Hylund waited to one side with an assortment of blurred pictures strewn across and pinned to it.
The High Elder folded her hands before her and said, ‘Miss Gribble, I have heard great things about you and your abilities. What you succeeded in doing in Lull over the summer was . . . miraculous!’ Her voice was gravelly and steady. ‘Your assistance during the parade was also greatly appreciated. You acted quickly and decisively and that is a credit to you – and to your grandmother, of course.’
Arianwyn noticed Grandma smile a little in her direction.
‘I was happy to help, High Elder.’
The High Elder pursed her lips and looked towards the windows. ‘And now I have need of your help again, Miss Gribble.’ She gestured to the table and the map and photographs. ‘Do you recognize any of these?’
Arianwyn glanced down, looking more carefully. But the images were poor and blurred, revealing only half of an arm or leg, or the back of something moving away at speed. She started to shake her head but then saw something that made her pause, her skin chilled as though an icy breeze had blown through the room.
She reached out to touch the image,
her hand shaking. ‘That’s a night ghast,’ she said in a small frightened voice, pulling her hand away again as though it might bring the dark spirit creature into the room. She looked quickly at Grandmother and Colin, who both gave her reassuring smiles.
‘Like the one you encountered in Lull?’ the High Elder asked.
Arianwyn nodded.
The High Elder leant on the table, surveying the map and the photographs again. ‘We have a problem, Miss Gribble. A terrible, frightening problem. You see, each of these photographs, or points on the map here, indicate a separate sighting or report of a dark spirit creature since mid-summer. Far more than have ever been recorded.’
The room fell silent. Colin gave a low whistle and scuffed at the floor with his shoe.
‘Until recently no human had encountered one of these dark spirits for hundreds of years.’ The High Elder lifted up one of the photographs and passed it to Arianwyn. It was dog-like, but winged and had a huge head with sharp teeth. Its midnight-dark skin stretched tight across its bony frame.
A shudder ran along Arianwyn’s spine . . .
Chapter 7
THE SUMMONING SPELL
e believe it to be a razlor,’ the High Elder said, taking the photograph from Arianwyn.
‘And what’s that?’ Colin asked, leaning across the table and pointing to photo of a creature that was a jumble of limbs that looked human, but not. It was twisted and awful. It had a huge bony beak that looked like it could rip things apart easily.
‘That was recently identified as a skalk,’ the High Elder explained. ‘There have been no recorded sightings of this creature for nearly eight hundred years.’ The room fell silent for several long minutes as everyone looked at the photographs and the map.
Razlor.
Night ghast.
Skalk.
Arianwyn stared down at the photographs for a moment and then glanced away again, a chill crawling over her skin.
‘But all our spells, thus far, remain ineffective. And it is time for new ideas, new spells . . . or maybe old ones,’ the High Elder said. ‘We’ve long suspected that the cardinal glyphs were just the tip of the iceberg as far as magic was concerned. History books and legends indicate that the glyphs are remnants of a far more intricate magical language, long since forgotten. As we face ever more increasing threats from dark spirit creatures and now from countries beyond the Four Kingdoms, we need to understand this forgotten language more than ever.’
The flickering cinema image of the battlefield filled Arianwyn’s mind.
‘Your grandmother spent quite a lot of her time over the summer searching for anything that alluded to this greater magic.’ The High Elder moved closer to Arianwyn, until she was just centimetres away. The closeness felt too much; Arianwyn felt trapped but didn’t dare to move. ‘How ironic that you were the key all along. I, and indeed all the council, have been so very impressed with your control of the shadow glyph.’ Her voice was full of wonder, and Arianwyn noticed a slight tremble in her hands. ‘This glyph and others like it could help to ensure our safety, Arianwyn. Perhaps help win – I mean end – the war!’
‘The new glyphs could also be dangerous, especially if they fall into the wrong hands,’ Grandmother added. She tapped her fingers on the table, a sure sign of her annoyance.
The High Elder raised her chin. ‘Then of course I shall ensure that does not happen.’ She winked at Arianwyn. But Arianwyn wasn’t sure this made her feel any better. She was clearly formidable, and Arianwyn felt certain that she could achieve anything and everything she wanted and wasn’t used to being told ‘no’.
‘Don’t make promises that you are unable to keep,’ Grandmother said, a warning edge to her voice now.
The two elder witches looked at each other for a long moment before the High Elder spoke again. ‘From the reports I have read about the attack in Lull over the summer, the feylings claim to have in their possession a book containing more of these glyphs?’
‘Yes,’ replied Arianwyn. ‘It’s the Book of Quiet Glyphs, kept in the demon library in the feyling settlement.’
The High Elder’s eyes seemed to shine for a moment.
‘But we have no proof of that,’ Grandmother added quickly. ‘Nor that they will work against these new creatures—’
The High Elder interrupted. ‘That book could yield a whole new set of spells for the witches of Hylund. Their application could be beyond our imaginations.’ She turned back to Arianwyn. ‘You trust the feyling who told you of the book? You have no reason to doubt him?’
Arianwyn’s heart warmed as she thought about Estar. ‘He is certainly curious, mysterious even, but Estar showed me nothing but kindness and friendship.’ She had followed her heart and instincts and protected him – they had protected each other. She had no reason to doubt him. ‘I trust him with my life,’ she added.
The High Elder seemed to consider this for a while before speaking at last. ‘That will be of great advantage to our work today.’
‘And what exactly is it, the work?’
The High Elder stepped to one side and gestured to the floor. Arianwyn hadn’t noticed it before, but sprawling across the polished wood were a series of lines, markings and glyphs sketched with brilliant white chalk.
‘What’s that?’ Arianwyn asked, stepping carefully around the lines. She tilted her head this way and that in the hope it might all make sense.
‘Looks like a . . . summoning spell?’ Grandmother offered, peering closer.
‘A what?’ Arianwyn asked.
‘A summoning spell,’ said the High Elder. ‘They’re not always reliable, but I thought under the circumstances it was the best hope of reaching your friend.’
It took a moment for it to all sink in. ‘Estar?’ Arianwyn asked.
‘Indeed. He is our best hope of obtaining this Book of Quiet Glyphs.’
Can it really be that easy, though? Arianwyn wondered.
‘Summoning spells are dangerous, Constance,’ Grandmother said. ‘For the caster of the spell as well as the summoned.’
‘I’m well aware of that,’ the High Elder replied. ‘So I will need your help, Maria . . . and that is not a request.’
The two elder witches stared each other down for a few moments as Arianwyn looked on. She was worried about what this spell might do if it went wrong, but her concerns were swallowed up by excitement at the prospect of seeing her friend Estar again.
‘We should try!’ she said, looking at her grandmother and immediately feeling like a traitor. ‘We should do whatever we can to help, shouldn’t we, Grandma?’
There was a pause and then Grandmother said quietly, ‘Of course.’ She didn’t look at Arianwyn as she spoke.
A few minutes later and the chamber was thrown into semi-gloom as Colin and Arianwyn pulled the curtains half across the long windows.
Crossing back, Arianwyn could see that the two elder witches had positioned themselves amidst the network of chalk markings. She felt only the faintest tingle of magic, flowing somewhere outside, far beyond the building. But it was testament to Grandmother’s and the High Elder’s skills that they could work spells so easily with such a weak pocket of magic to draw upon.
‘We use Årdra for its strength.’ Grandmother explained as she added it to the symbols already on the floor using a piece of chalk.
At the opposite end the High Elder was drawing L’ier, the banishing glyph, but she had drawn it back to front.
The symbols complete, they flared and glowed red and dark purple. Arianwyn could feel the thrum of magic in the room and watched as Grandmother and the High Elder pulled the magic towards the luminous glyphs.
As they connected there was a brilliant, blinding flash; even Colin had to shield his eyes. A gleaming, pulsing circle formed in the centre of the room and a rushing wind whipped around the council chamber. Papers from somewhere began to whirl about. Arianwyn had to hold her hair back out of her eyes to see what was happening. In a graceful and speedy movement, Grandmother
threw her arms wide and muttered something quietly, over and over again.
Arianwyn stepped forwards, straining to hear her grandmother’s words.
‘We summon you, we call you forth. Hear us and return to us, creature of the Great Wood. Come forth, feyling. We summon you . . .’ Grandmother cast an urgent glance at Arianwyn. ‘Oh, boil it, what was his name again?’ she hissed.
‘Estar Sha-Vamirian!’ Arianwyn said quickly.
‘Come forth, Estar Sha-Vamirian. We summon you!’ She repeated the words and then the High Elder joined the chant.
After several minutes the floorboards of the council chamber started to rattle as if they had broken free of their nails. The spell circle pulsated rapidly, throwing out bright flashes of light. The wind doubled in strength, howling about the room.
‘Come forth, Estar Sha-Vamirian. I, Maria Stronelli, witch of the Council of Elders, summon you!’
‘Come forth, Estar Sha-Vamirian. I, Constance Braithwaite, High Elder of the witches of Hylund, summon you!’
They repeated the words over and over, their voices merging, combining into a low hum. The wind whooshed about the room wilder than ever, the curtains twisting and the autumn sunlight flashing briefly in bursts and snatches. Arianwyn staggered back under the force of the gale.
In the centre of the room the spell circle pulsed with a growing light, once, twice. The light was quite blinding! The wind pulled through scents of the Great Wood, earthy and damp. Arianwyn felt a sudden pang to be back in Lull, unaware until that very moment just how much she was missing her home there.
Suddenly bits of twig, small branches and leaves were whirling about the room. Arianwyn thought she saw a blue flash. ‘Estar!’ she called, reaching towards the light, her voice snatched away by churning winds.
There was a final burst of brilliance, then a smack of air that felt like a brick wall sent them all skidding across the floor of the chamber.
CRASH!
